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In The Act

By: Edge23



'Dammit,' she thought. He had left the bathroom door open again while he was in there. Now, she loved him and all, but she had no interest in seeing him in the bathroom. She grabbed the basket of clothes from the counter and headed for the bedroom to put them away. Doing this took her past the bathroom door. She didn't think anything about it until she heard soft grunting noises from inside. 

She was a little worried about him. He had been in there for a few minutes and now he was making funny noises. She looked at the clock; it was seven forty-five and then needed to leave for work soon. She didn't want to, but she felt like she needed to check on him. She set down the basket and braced herself, in case anything was wrong. She poked her left eye and her nose around the edge of the door to see what was going on.

There he was, sitting on the toilet, cock in hand, his arm pumping away like mad. There was a bottle of lubricant on the edge of the bathtub next to him and he had a Playboy on the floor in front of him, the centerfold looking up at him and smiling. He was pulling it hard, the head dark purple, even under his darkened skin. His penis wasn't particularly large, but was just like the rest of him: lean and mean. There was almost no body fat on him, which was the way she liked it. She was always amazed by his strength and endurance during sex. At least now she knew part of the secret of his endurance.

She smirked and silently moved toward the living room to make a couple of phone calls.

---

'Oh yeah, Kalin' he thought, looking down at his favorite Playmate, her ass sticking up in the air. He was going to cum on her face this time, he decided. After all, it was his fantasy. His eyes darted toward the door. SHE never let him cum on her face, even after all the pussy eating he did. It only seemed fair, right?

He gritted his teeth and jerked even harder, his nipple rings bouncing off of his chest. 'Yeah, bitch! This will teach you!' He could feel his orgasm approaching. This was going to be a good one, he could tell.

---

She crept back up the small hallway of their apartment, trying not to make any noise. She got back to the doorway and peered in. She could tell he was close because of the way he was holding his shaft. Whenever he was about to cum, he held it straight up by his stomach.

She had never thought about it, but he made quite an appearance with his nipple rings and all of his Spider-Man tattoos. The Spider-Man mask on the inside of his right arm constantly changed shape as his arm moved back and forth. She could almost taste his seed as it began to boil in his balls.

She smirked again and pushed the door open.

---

She walked in and he started to cover himself out of reflex. She reached down and grabbed his hair and pushed his head back.

"What are you doing," she yelled. "I didn't tell you that you could play with yourself."

Josh started to push himself off the toilet only to have Faith push him back down. "You are going to sit there and keep your hands off of that. Do you understand?"

Josh started to argue, but saw the look in her eyes. It was the same look she used when she was going to tie him up. He knew better than to argue, so he only nodded.

"Good. Now put your hands behind your back." He did so. Faith then grinned as she pulled her shirt off, leaving her breasts bobbing slightly. She then turned her back on him and pulled down her shorts, bending over as she did so. She stayed in that position for a short time, showing off her freshly waxed pussy lips. She reached a hand back and twirled the tip of her finger around her clit, pushing it gently around in circles

Josh started to lean forward to lick her, but she stood and spun and pushed him back.

"You are not to touch me unless I allow it. Do you understand?" He nodded again. "Good." She put her leg up on the edge of the bathtub and cocked her hip out in that direction. His eyes were on her body the entire time. He didn't know what he was in for, but he was determined to see everything.

She closed her eyes and ran her hands over her neck and throat, moaning softly at the touch of her soft skin. She moved her fingertips down her neck to her breasts, lightly touching the sensitive skin. She pinched her pink nipples, causing them to harden slightly. Running her fingers around her aureole made them puff up and her nipples stand out. She licked her fingers and rubbing her nipples harder, causing Josh to make a high pitched whiny noise in his throat. She liked it when he did that. It meant he wanted her. Badly.

She moved her hands further south, though the valley of her breasts onto the plains of her stomach. From there, she rubbed her hands against the freshly waxed skin of her pubic area. She traced small pattern with her fingertips before moving her hands over her pelvis and into her pussy. One hand held her lips open while her thumb rested on her clit. The other pushed two fingers into her folds, moving slowly in and out.

Josh licked his lips, his tongue piercings clacking on his bright white teeth. He leaned his head forward slightly, hoping to taste her, but he knew if he did, she would hold out on him. He might not get any for months. He held still, his hands still behind him.

Faith kept up her motions, knowing that the rhythm she had set up would keep Josh on the edge of his seat, wanting to watch her cum, while gettin her on the edge of orgasm quickly. She gasped as she hit her hot spot just right, causing her body to jerk. She was not a passive person during masturbation. Josh had once gotten a split lip when she bucked while he was going down on her. She certainly didn't just lay there.

She balanced herself again and leaned toward Josh's face slightly, her eyes on fire. She starting pumping her fingers faster, looking down at his bobbing shaft. She could tell by the way he was leaning over slightly that he wanted to cum so bad that it hurt. It was almost like he was trying to rub himself with his stomach. He was leaning further forward, mere inches from her wetness, when she cried out as full orgasm hit. Her knees buckled and she fell back against he sink with a thump. None of this kept her fingers from moving, driving herself completely over the edge.

Josh almost went to her. Almost. He knew that she was an active person in the throes of orgasm, but also knew that she had told him not to move. If he did in circumstances other than an emergency, he was in trouble. She leaned there, her hands dropping from her pussy, he eyes still half rolled back in her head. She gathered herself with a deep breath and stood upright, with help from the sink. She took another deep breath and nodded at him.

Josh whipped his hands around him in an instant, grabbing his cock and jerking it like there was no tomorrow. He looked up at her and started making encouraging noises and telling him that she wanted it so bad, she could taste it. He groaned and stroked even faster, if that were possible. He kept running his thumb over the head on the upstroke, eliciting a deeper and deeper moan from his throat with each pull of the head.

Finally, he exploded, his breath catching in his throat. He shot his cum all over the edge of the toilet and onto the floor, while getting some on Faith's legs. He jerked and jerked for a full minute after orgasm, slowly reducing his pace. He leaned back against the toilet and sighed, trying desperately to catch his breath. His eyelids twitched as he fought to get his eyes to stay forward. After a good two minutes, he got his eyes open and looked at her, standing in front of him with hands on her hips.

"Look what you did," she ordered, pointing at the cum on her legs. He started to say something, but she cut him off. "We're going to have to take a shower to get this cleaned up."

"But what about work," he asked. "We're already late!" He was worried about losing his job.

Faith simply smiled. "Well, it seems that both of us were called in sick to work earlier. So, about that shower..."

Josh grinned and turned on the water...

In the Afternoon



Gen and I had been dating for some time, and were in love, though our relationship could be bumpy. Our sex life was adventurous, though not what I would describe as kinky. It is important to mention that I have a particular affinity for oral sex. I love the taste and texture of a woman's pussy - labia, clit, and the inner folds. Nothing is more erotic to me than a 69, when I can pause from eating pussy to watch her suck on my cock. Watching Gen nibble, lick, and swirl her tongue around me was nearly enough to make me ejaculate all over her face and chest.

We were in my bedroom, messing around in the early afternoon, the light pouring in shafts through the blinds. Lazily, we groped each other through our clothes. It had been a couple of weeks since we had fucked, and our play quickly grew more forceful as we went. I could smell her wetness through her jeans, and my dick grew hard from the scent. 

I could imagine what came next - licking her, hearing her breath quicken. I stuck my hand beneath her waistband, slowly running my fingers along her skin. She raised her hips to force my hand further down. She had already soaked her panties - her pussy felt slippery as I rubbed it through the silk-blended fabric. I loved this as well - rubbing her pussy through her panties. I almost wanted her to leave them on always; the texture felt so good to the touch.

She urged me to pull her jeans off, and I complied. I left her panties on, nibbling, sucking and licking at her knees, at the inside of her thighs, making her wetter and just shy of begging for my cock. At this point, she began rubbing my dick through my jeans. I could feel the spot on my boxers where my pre-cum had soaked through. I wanted to feel her mouth around the head of my dick, her tongue swirling around it. I pulled off my jeans and boxers, my cock standing at attention. She began stroking my dick as I continued to finger her through her panties and suck at her inner thighs. She pulled off her shirt, leaving her bra on, her nipples hard and tits heaving in time with her breath. I got on top of her, pulling us into a man-on-top 69. I yanked her panties down, exposing her dripping pussy to the air.

As I mentioned before, nothing is hotter to me than the position we were in. As I began to eat her pussy, I felt the head of my cock slip between her lips as she opened her mouth to receive it. It was incredible - her tongue swirling around the head of my dick while my tongue darted at her clit. I stuck two fingers inside of her pussy, to give her the sensation of being penetrated while I stimulated her lips and clit with my mouth.

Suddenly, she pushed forward on the backs of my thighs, snaking behind me to take my balls in her mouth. She didn't mess around. This was not the slow licking as I was used to when she played with my balls. She took both of my balls in her mouth, and was greedily licking and sucking on them as she pulled at my cock, which was now aimed at her stomach. The sensation nearly drove me over the edge. I regained my composure, not wanting to come yet, and I pinned her clit with my tongue, licking it furiously as I fucked her with my fingers.

This was not oral foreplay - we were fucking -- though entirely with our mouths and hands. I began to stick my tongue between her folds, fucking her with my tongue as she moaned. The harder I lapped and tongue fucked her, the more insistent her sucking and stroking became. Then, as quickly as she started, she stopped and pulled my balls out of her mouth. She began sliding down the bed, straining to get to my cock. She latched her lips fast to the head and didn't let go.

At this point, the head of my dick was rock hard and dripping into her mouth - I needed release. I sucked at her pussy as she began to shudder an orgasm, bringing a temporary pause to her oral attentions. It was beautiful, watching her pussy twitch and her legs shake while my dick was still buried in her mouth. She quickly recovered, and began sucking again in earnest. Now she was taking me all the way into her mouth, my balls lightly slapping the bridge of her nose with each upstroke. I looked down along our bodies to watch her thrusting her head up and down on the length of my cock. The visual was too much, and my cock began twitching as I exploded in her mouth, filling it with cum until I could see it begin to drip over her lips. She never once took her mouth from my dick as she drained me, swallowing my cum and licking her lips clean. As I rolled off of her, our eyes met. Slyly, she said "you came...?" 

We both laughed. "What gave you that idea?" was all I could muster in reply. 



In the Alleyway



She stood at the bar, an attractive lady who drew glances. My eyes traced er body slowly. From her feet up her legs, naked and black. To her skirt, short, red and wrapped around her tight ass like tape. Her waist, narrow and fine led to her breasts which were restrained only by a loosely-tied half blouse. Her face radiated amusement and joviality. She was obviously open to a lot of fun.

I watched as she made her way to the fruit machine and began to play. The lights flickered as two men walked either side of her to offer advice. She flirted with then and smiled as they brought a drink to her. 

There was a clatter of winnings and she bent down to collect. My eyes fixed on her fine ass, stretching the red leather of her skirt tight. She seemed to wiggle a little to make her point.

She took her money and sat down on a large sofa. The men sat either side of her. They talked a little until one man put his hand on her thigh. She smiled a little and then lifted her leg so her skirt rose slightly. From this angle I could just see her panties, white against the darkness of her skin.

The man's hand moved into the shadows of her skirt and began to caress her pussy. She seemed disinterested, even bored and soon stood up and walked away.

I watched her as she walked to me and held her hand out. I took it and she lured me out of my seat to the exit. 

We emerged into an alleyway and she turned on me, wrapping herself around me as her mouth engulfed mine and started to tongue me deeply. I responded, my hands running over her smooth back and feeling down to her ass, grinding her cheeks hard.

She was groaning now and rubbing her leg into my crotch, feeling my hardness through my trousers. I began to gasp as she stepped away. She pulled her half blouse off and stood before me, topless. She started to move to the beat of the nearby pub and took her marvelous breasts in her hands as she did so. She moved them in her hands as her head tilted back and she moaned. One hand then stretched down over her waist and into her skirt, feeling around her pussy and rubbing herself.

I moved forward but she whispered "no" and continued to play with herself. I watched, mesmerized, as her hands rubbed her tits roughly. Her skirt was bunched up round her waist now and her panties were around her knees. I could see her fingers fucking her cunt now, playing with her clit and juicing herself up.

She continued to dance for me, bringing herself closer and closer to a climax when she looked at me and whispered "now."

I unzipped my trousers and pulled them and my boxers to my ankles. I positioned myself behind her black, shapely ass and bent her over. She put both hands on the wall now and I placed the head of my cock at her pussy lips. She was groaning hard as I sunk my cock deep into her cunt. She thrust her ass back onto my, driving sensations of ecstasy deep into my.

I gripped her ass cheeks in my hands and started to pound her pussy hard and rough, feeling her cunt muscles contract around me as she came. I fucked her hard, watching her ass wobble with each thrust and hearing her gasp with pleasure at each entry. My balls were slapping against her and she reached one hand round to stroke them. At that, I thrust hard into her one last time and felt her collapse onto me as I came in my wife's sweet pussy.



In The Allotment Shed...



When Badger started to take a shine in me it all seemed a little bizarre.

I mean me with an older man? It didn't compute with my idea of a lusty liaison at all. In fact thinking about it, I would have thought the idea completely out of question.

But it is strange just what personalities can do and a little bit of attention. Badger showed me that and no mistake, for an oldie of about sixty he was well and truly well endowed as I was soon to discover in the privacy of his allotment shed, with the rain beating down outside cats and dogs, a good reason to be inside and leaving the allotment to the elements.

I'd recently taken up what seemed to be the new craze in our town, growing one's own vegetables and the like, much better for you I was told and great for the sex life.

Well I guess I was lacking that of late but Badger was about to remedy that with his own brand of vegetable which, come to think of it, bulging in his trousers like that, it could have resembled to a prize marrow, it looked absolutely huge and I was convinced he had some sort of padding in there.

He asked if I had ever done any 'pricking out' and me thinking naughty thoughts he was suggesting something I was at first apprehensive.

"Well come the spring, Pete - see all this mass of tiny Lobelia? - well they need to be thinned out and transplanted in boxes so that they will grow more sturdy and that's what they call pricking out right?"

"I am always willing to learn" I replied and he gave me the most wonderful smile, it felt I was thinking of him as my departed dad but it was more than that, I realised in a funny sort of way I was attracted to him, there he was making all those tiny holes with his 'dibber; a small thing like a pencil he used to make the holes to transplant the Lobelia seedlings.

Then to my surprise Badger started howling with laughter and said " I know what you be thinking' of lad with me talking about sturdy growth, and pricking out and dibbing!" I wondered how he knew that.

"It shows in your flushed face Lad, I do believe you are up for a bit of fun huh?"

All the time my mind was whirling, was this old guy really making up to me? but he was, that was evident - the way he was squeezing his crotch and I was feeling attracted to him.

I looked down,. My eyes focussed on the job he had in hand, he'd stopped showing me how to prick out and by the way he was talking he was about to get his prick out and no mistake "See what you think, lad - that's all I'm asking?"

I could almost see it growing as he levered it out between his open flies and I was confronted with a very appealing crimson and red knob and a very delightful shaft.

"What do you think, Pete?" he stuttered, I guess he was as excited as I was. I moved my hand down near it as if to feel it; "Go on, Lad be my guest" and I did. It was lovely to touch and feel and he prompted me to squeeze and stretch it back, and when I did I sensed the scent of him which oddly in itself was not repugnant but very, very stimulating and I had the urge to suck the guy.

I just stood there awhile enjoying the moment and then: "let me see yours" he said unzipping me and me sensing the feel of his rough fingers pulling it out half mast. "Don't be shy, lad, just let it go and it will grow, I tell you what let me suck you off then you can do the same for me, fair deal?"

For the next few minutes I was to enjoy the most wonderfully sensitive oral suck off I'd ever had, even from my first girl friend who sucked me off in the back of my car and let me fuck her for the first time. 

This was different though, guy to guy, a guy knows just what a guy feels and needs and Badger had all the qualifications, and when it came to he telling me it was my turn I was well and truly worked up and that very first sensation of sucking that wonderful throbbing cock was heaven on earth, the taste, the feel - it being so supple and flexible too, so good to hold and massage as I gave him the deepest of sucks, rolling that cock with my tongue and poking his p-hole. .

I felt so soothed and right with what I was doing, then, as I felt him surge, he stopped me saying he'd save that for later, his fingers teasing my ass cheeks apart, he kneeling and moving his tongue and teasing my very private part between, he was in a world of his own and I was not about to stop him, I'd been fucked several times of course by various guys but never by guy this age,, old enough to be my dad, but feeling him lick and sniff up me, and hearing his sexual sounds ,I felt an overwhelming need to be subservient to him and to give him my all, that it was doing some sort of good for this guy who told me he'd lost his wife with cancer two years back and was now venturing, as he put it, into something he always felt like doing, and I was the perfect guy to do it with.

"Will you let me fuck you,. Pete?" he asked so warmly and frankly. "You have the most beautifully fuckable ass and I could really go for that, tell me Pete you'd like too?"

I smiled openly and nodded and when he removed my jeans and boxer shorts from around my knees where they had been while he enjoyed me orally, I felt wonderfully attached to him, hearing those sounds of joy again, his compliments and the feel of his gentle touch beginning to rim me, it really felt like something out of this world.

"I have some Vaseline in my cupboard use it for greasing the shears, it would be nice to use it on you, may I?"

"Of course I said" feeling his big hand rest in my lower back as he prompted me to bend for him.

"Tell you what, see this cushion on my chair, well let's rest it on the bench and you lean over onto it, it will make the perfect entry."

Now I was getting really thrilled, bent over and revealing my ass for his perusal, feeling his tongue suck me up again, hearing him sniff up me and the feeling of his finger nails gently scratching the inside of my thighs leading up to my balls was sheer heaven.

He really stretched my cheeks so wide and I felt the smear of the lubricant and his eager fingers starting to enter and stretch inside, a little painful at first but soon wonderfully soothing after some more stretching , and his mouth nibbling my ass and slapping each cheek in turn gently but very sensually - as soon I started to feel the head of his throbbing cock begin to work its way up and into me, I felt myself moving side to side to help him put it deep up me and soon the feel of his throb right inside me sent wonderful sensations up and down my spine as he started to slowly at first fuck me thrusting and thrusting, those throat noises again making it all the more thrilling and wanting, I really wanted this guy's fuck, feeling him fuck me through a though I was in my element and I knew I would want him again and again, in his allotment shed!

The bench started to rattle as he really went to it and thoroughly fucked me.

I was well sore afterwards, Badger is so very big. He laughed at the way I walked and gave me a final slapping after he'd cum all over my ass.

He looked happy and so was I, It was the start of a great new relationship and I knew we'd be doing a lot more pricking out in the allotment shed.



In the Amazon



(The following story is the first work of fiction that I have created. It refers to a real life celebrity and as such should not be regarded as fact.)



Safely tucked away in comfort of the plane, the vast expanse of the Amazon jungle had been a magnificent sight, especially for Danny who'd never even ventured out of California before. It was exactly the experience he'd been looking for when he'd taken the opportunity to join a professional documentary crew with the famous British adventurer, Bear Grylls. For a junior cameraman who'd worked on nothing but a few commercials and local news spots, working on a globally successful survivalist show was too good to pass up and so he'd left his girlfriend and family behind for the three month expedition to the tropical South. 

When he'd first awoken to the sound of burning foliage and the intense heat of ignited fuel, it was immediately obvious to the inexperienced American that, up close and personal, the Amazon was more akin to hell. The charred remains of the aircraft had tangled intself in the canopy above, the force of such an impact throwing the lifeless bodies of his colleagues into the thick undergrowth. The horrors of such a gruesome sight had been so overwhelming that Danny wasn't even aware of someone else moving through the suffocating smoke.

If there was anyone Danny would have wished to survive, it would have been Bear Grylls hands down. He'd been a fan of the survivalist since his show made it to the US and had seen him successfully navigate his way through many dangerous situations. Dealing with the shock of losing people he'd befriended silenced his appreciation however, and the first few hours of their escape from the crash-site had been painfully quiet.

Now, as daylight slowly dwindled and their trek had temporarily halted, Danny found Bear's plan of action more than efficient,

"First, we need to create some shelter. Humidity is rising and it looks like we've got heavy rain on the way." Having no clue about such things, Danny only offered a quiet nod before the other man quickly set about hacking makeshift construction materials from the surrounding trees. It was impressive to see him work with such skill and the cameraman found himself surprised with how little time it actually took the intrepid explorer to design and build a single shelter across some low hanging branches. In contrast, Danny had always hated roughing it as a kid during their various camping trips and barely had a clue how to survive in his own apartment, never mind a wild and completely hostile environment like the deep south. 

With shelter and water accommodated for, Bear turned his attention to the need for food and after double checking their temporary camp, had set off further into the jungle to scavenge anything he could. Alone with nothing but the sounds of shrill animal calls and the light patter of rain on the canopy above, Danny found himself left with nothing but the camera and his own thoughts.

*** Video Log #1 - 1/4/11 ***

'I still can't believe that the others are dead. The flight was supposed to be simple - capture some aerial footage before heading back to the airfield...but for some reason, we hit a problem and the plane went down. I've tried to sleep since we started our journey towards the river, but I can't get the image of the others out of my head. I was nervous about this trip from the start and now I'm feeling guilty because I'm glad I have someone who knows how to get us out of here. If we ever get out of here. I try not to think about the possibility that no one knows we're stranded in the middle of nowhere, that they consider everyone dead. We managed to salvage some equipment from the wreck, including this camera and a few extra battery packs. I'm going to keep a diary as long as I can, for my own sanity if nothing else.'

*****

With visibility down to a few feet and the sound of heavy rain now drowning out any signs of life from the jungle itself, even the opportunity to process his own private thoughts was no comfort. Bear had been gone almost an hour and Danny soon felt hunger begin to weaken his resolve, the search for decent rations in their single backpack proving to be a fruitless effort. Even in those most dire circumstances the idea of eating whatever Bear found in the jungle was less than appealing and Danny soon found his gaze wandering. Above the shelter, on the branch of another tree hung a clump of dark berries, similar to blueberries but far larger in size. How dangerous could a fruit be? Danny was more than willing to put up with a little vomiting if it meant he could forego the beetle stew.

Taking a handful, Danny gave the berries a sniff before piling them into his mouth. Sweet juices began sating the rumbling of his stomach and the uncomfortable hunger began to fade. It took less than a minute or two for Danny to realise that there was something definitely wrong. The jungle began to spin and muscle movement became increasingly difficult. The berries he'd eaten seemed so normal, like any fruit you'd buy at the store, how was he supposed to know they were poisonous? In less than five minutes, the toxins had quickly taken hold of his motor functions, inducing a state of paralysis that was slowly but surely suffocating him. 

Aware of movement below, Danny felt a surge of panic as Bear returned to their shelter and felt the moist trail of a tear roll down his muddied cheek. The older man carefully sidled along the thick branch that made the floor of their shelter and was kneeling beside him now, concern clear in his expression.

"Those berries contain a neuro-toxin and there's nothing here that'll neutralise it..." The small satchel that Bear had been carrying was forgotten as the explorer examined the discarded fruit and Danny had no choice but to watch, helpless and certain that his cause of death was going to be a possibility he hadn't considered. Revealing itself slowly in his expression, an idea seemed to grip the older man and his next words came slow and hesitant. 

"There's one one option that I don't think you're going to like." There was serious doubt in them both now as Bear shuffled closer to his paralysed charge, his hand moving to check the younger man's pulse. 

"Certain tribes in this region have been known to ingest semen as an antidote for some poisons... right now, it's the only thing I can think of." If he could move, Danny would have recoiled in horror, but even shaking his head in refusal was impossible, the only sign of his disgust being a muffled groan. It was obvious that Bear sympathised, but it didn't deter him from hastily unfastening the buttons of Danny's fly.

There was a moment of clear doubt as his hand hovered over Danny's groin, before necessity forced it into the opening of Danny's shorts and exposing the American's limp flesh. Being unable to move was one thing, but Danny could still feel every touch and when the older man's hand wrapped around his cock, he let out another groan of panic and embarrassment. He wasn't the only one. Bear's gaze focused on anything but the actions of his hand, the only thing allowing him to continue being the desperation of their situation.

With no control over his automatic responses, Danny felt his cock harden against the firm grip and humid air, his eyes clamping shut in an attempt convince himself that it wasn't real. Even with his vivid imagination, it was impossible to ignore the familiar responses that accompanied stimulation of his sensitive flesh and Danny felt his heart-rate quicken. The rhythmic stroking along his shaft intensified the knot of desire in his stomach and soon his solid shaft begun producing clear, sticky pre-cum as his balls pulled tight against his body. Never in a million years would he have imagined receiving a hand job from another guy and his mind desperately tried to cling to the image of his girlfriend back home as reality sunk in.

Reluctantly opening his eyes, Danny watched Bear's free hand pull a large, flat leaf from one of the branches and expertly fold it into a makeshift cup within his curled fingers before placing it at the tip of the American's aching cockhead. Long strings of pre-cum slowly oozed from his piss slit before his cock spasmed, and with a burning ache radiating through his entire groin, Danny came thick and fast. Spurt after spurt of warm milky seed shot into the folded leaf, over Bear's hand and with his paralysed body caught in the aftermath of orgasm, Danny watched the other man quickly shuffle towards him, bringing the leaf to his lips. The hand that had brought him to orgasm now lifted his head and with no choice in the matter, Bear tipped the leaf's contents into the younger man's mouth. The taste was just as unpleasant as he'd imagined, the thick, jelly-like juices slowly flowing down the back of his throat towards his stomach and if it were possible, Danny would have wretched. 

"If it's enough, you'll start to breath easier and your heart-rate will slow down." Danny could barely concentrate on the other man's words as the last of his seed coated his mouth and Bear wiped his cum-covered hand against his lips. Their journey so far had been surreal in itself, but nothing in his whole life could ever compare to lying in the Amazon, another dude stroking his junk because cum was the only thing that would fight the toxin. It was definitely something he'd keep to himself and he only hoped that Bear would do the same. 

With the salty tang of his own juices now strong in his senses, Danny waited eagerly for the paralysis to wear off, aware that he'd most likely be dead in a matter of minutes if it didn't. Another silent moment passed between them as Bear saved what dignity he had left and carefully returned his spent flesh back to his underwear, though Danny was feeling more panicked as his condition only worsened and now, even Bear was showing signs of worry.

"It's not working, it must not have been enough." It didn't take a genius to work out what solution suddenly came to the explorer's mind and Danny watched in horror as Bear once again retrieved the leaf, this time reaching for his own belt. 

"I'm sorry, but I'm not going to give up and watch you die when there's something I could have done." The older man's tone was once again sympathetic, a sad attempt at a comforting smile aimed in his direction before Bear turned as much as the shelter allowed and reached inside his own shorts. No words were spoken as Bear retrieved his own cock, the soft flesh quickly hardening as his hand violently began stroking. Within a couple of minutes, the grunt of the older man orgasming cut through the dull thud of rain and Danny watched as the cup was once again brought to his mouth. 

"Close your eyes and don't think." The idea would have been a good one if there was any way it would work. Instead, Danny once again lay helpless as a new, musky aroma assaulted his senses. Surprisingly the scent was less unpleasant than his own and when his mouth finally received Bear's cum, Danny found the taste shamefully appetising. The warm sweetness of Bear's thicker and more plentiful load coated Danny's mouth and throat, managing to soothe the bitter after taste of his own essence. Feeling the semi-solid liquid traverse his oesophagus like he'd just eaten a yoghurt, Danny found himself horribly curious as to the copious amount of cum one man could produce. 

The pounding of blood rushing through Danny's ears was the only sound he heard as Bear studied him with apprehension. If the only idea the other man had didn't work, there wouldn't be a lot of time left to worry about how embarrassed he felt after having to down both their loads. Slowly, the thump of his heart slowed and the restriction in his chest slowly lessened, the sudden intake of increased oxygen making Danny light-headed before the younger man slipped into unconsciousness.



In the Arms of a Friend



I really had no good reason to go back to Baltimore. The woman that I thought I loved, that I thought had loved me, was past tense. (An icy telephone call, my words falling like snow, my emotions kept cool by distance and the warm memory of another woman). There was no reason to go, but when my aunt asked me if I would attend an estate auction for her, (a collection of fabulous Art Deco Egyptian Revival, my best period) – my pulse quickened even if my nod was calm. I had a number scribbled on a paper scrap, and a name that I didn't remember when she kissed me, Teddy... 

I waited until I had checked into the harbor front hotel that my family had used for generations, unpacked my suitcase, shook out and hung my clothes, before I dialed Teddy's number – I was making a point of saying her name to myself, not to forget. She answered on the third ring, "Teddy's tune-up!" 

I giggled (yeah, nerves) and quipped, "Is that a promise?"

Her voice shifted down to neutral, "Who's this?"

I said in a low voice, "A rainy night, the backseat of your car, a girl that needed."

"Oh yeah..." The brightness in her tone made my pulse quicken all over again. "You're in town?" I said yes. "Do you like to sail? I was going out tomorrow."

I took a rushing look at my appointment book. "I like to sail. I have a brunch that I have to do, but after 12?"

I heard a lazy laugh in my ear. "I'm a late riser myself." She gave me directions, and without asking anything else, only said before hanging up. "Thought of you." 

I hadn't thought of her, not much. Only when I was feeling grateful, only when I was feeling how empty my bed was, how empty I felt.

I showed up, feeling rushed, at the dock wearing a dark coral pink wrap raglan top and dark gray fleece shorts, with white tube socks and newly bought Sperry Topsiders. My unruly hair pulled back tight in a ponytail, some light base to protect my face, and lip gloss a shade to match my top. She beamed at me front the helm of the boat as if I were best thing she had seen that day, kind of smile that makes you feel flushed, that makes you want to be the best thing.

It was a totally beautiful wood cruiser, something you might imagine out of a Fitzgerald novel; long and slender like an arrowhead, all shining red vanish and glowing brass. I could only say, "Awesome."

Teddy laughed, 'Ain't it? Not mine, I did some work on the engine, there was a bitch of a problem with the manifold that I managed to fix, and now the owner lets me use it when he's out of town."

Only a few words, but it told volumes about her. That she was damned good at what she did, more than good – boating folk don't lend out their boats casually, and this was a special boat, the kind that people are protective of – the owner appreciated and trusted her. I was beginning to do the same.

Teddy stood and gave me her hand to help me board. Her fingers felt warm, good, on mine. I glanced around and said, "I should be wearing a flapper dress and carrying a pitcher of martinis."

"You look great, and no martini – but will this do?" She bent down into a hatch (the curve of her thigh as she leaned caught my breath) and took out a tall glass from an ice chest. A daiquiri. She had remembered the drink I had ordered when we met. It was a store bought mix and the rum was cheap and too weak, but as I took a taste, I felt the first moistness between my legs. It's the little moments, gestures that do that. 

If you don't understand how that happens, you'll spend your life not understanding anything.

She flashed me a killer smile and suddenly hugged me a little awkwardly. "God, I'm glad to see you," she murmured on my neck, "and that is a great scent."

Her lips hovering on my neck felt like warm oil on my skin. I sighed and replied, "Patchouli and jasmine with a little vanilla bean." 

Teddy laughed as she released me, "Patchouli? A hippie chick? Far out!"

I stuck my tongue at her as she stepped away and she winked at me, saying, "Save that for latter baby."

Aphrodite and Artemis, I hated blushing, still do.

I watched her cast off the lines, thinking of how she had a wonderfully proud gait. How fine-looking she was without trying, her steely leanness of muscle that accented the proud loft of her small breasts, the wonderful curve of her hips. Smiled at the jet black streak that had replaced orange in her pompadour (so grateful that it wasn't a mullet). How a woman looks isn't as important as how her looks reflected who is was, and I did like that reflection... 

She came back to the wheel, started the engine and we backed out of the slip and headed out to the bay. I stood beside her; she wrapped her arm around my waist, and I placed my hand on her shoulder. The clear sky was so blue that it bit. The wind was a zephyr, smelling of salt and rich life – I shivered a little, but not from cold, the scent reminded me of the perfume of a woman wanting.

When we passed the breakwater, Teddy opened up the engine and we flew across the sparkling water, bow rising, a fine mist of spray dancing in the air. She asked me to get her sunglasses from her leather jacket lying nearby. I fetched them and slipped the Raybans over her eyes; my fingers touching for a second her lips, she kissed them and grinned at me. My smile back was a little shy. This was different from being with a girl when storms raged inside and no names, no questions, only lust, was the hot, desperate, game. 

We ran south for about an hour, until she turned into an empty, tree crowded little cove. She asked me if I knew how to get an anchor down, I nodded and went forward, her hand lightly patting my ass I climbed to the deck, and after I threw the anchor over, she backed the boat until it was set.

When I returned to the cockpit, she had poured me another daiquiri, had a beer in one hand and a smoke in the other, and was leaning back in the pilot's seat. I sat down near her, and raised my glass in a silent toast. 

We sat, drank, and told each other some history.

I: Women's college (went because my aunt went and my grandmother), getting laid three days after I came out – she giggled at that, and I laughed at her giggle. Breaking my heart three times the first year – she nodded, understanding without needing details. Having to be twice as good at everything to be taken half seriously – she nodded once more and drawled, "know that road..." Summers in Europe; days spent in museums and galleries, nights spent dancing with girls who didn't understand what I was saying, but knew what I wanted. An aunt whose love of her life had been a Danish operatic soprano, who know what I was before I did, who gave me a lifetime of support, and a job. 

Her: Growing up tomboy. A grandfather who raised her like the son he had lost in Vietnam. A disastrous six-month marriage at eighteen – my turn to nod understandably knew too many girls that had tried that road to run away from what they were. Being the only woman in an automotive technology program, and almost thrown out when she floored the cracker that patted her ass – my turn to giggle and share the time I kneed a guy who tried too hard, Teddy whistled appreciatively, "A tough hippie chick!" Then, her taking over her grandfather's garage and turning it into a specialty shop for classic motors. 

We stopped talking and looked at each other. She was waiting with a little curl of her full lips. I listened to the waves on the water, on the shore, the waves inside me. "Let's go below."

She sat on the edge of the triangle shaped bunk up at the bow and kicked off her deck shoes; I stood in front of her, just out of reach, and did the same. She pulled over her head her mock turtleneck; underneath she was wearing a black sports bra; I took off my wrap top, no bra (yeah, hippie chick). She unbuttoned her Levi's and raising herself tugged them and her black jockey shorts off; I slid my pants off me and started to take off my taupe sheer mesh shorties when she said, "Keep those on baby, for now...." 

We tangled into each other. My arms circling around her wiry back, her hands on my hair and waist. Our legs twining and untwining, fastening the back of a knee around the bend of her hip. Our mouths meeting, feeding from the sweetness of her mouth. Our breasts sliding, two on two; my ripe apples on her firm small pears. My moan, her groan, as her slippery wetness rubbed hard against my thigh. Rolling together on the gently rocking bed. Above her, biting her neck as her hands suddenly squeezed my buttocks through my shorties. Below her, my arms around her neck as her hands found and not so gently kneaded and stroked my aching breasts.

She retook my mouth with a hungry urgency, her tongue darting repeatedly; my arms tightened around her neck, her sweet invasion making me moan. She pinched the hard little rose beads of my nipples and I throbbed deep inside. She brought her hand down and gathered the side of my panties and pulled hard, the mesh tearing as she ripped it off me – gestures, beautiful, hot, gestures, this woman knew how to play my song that day...

She turned me around until we were spooned, her hips on my cheeks, her mouth a wet fire on the side of my neck; her arm around me, a hand clasping and squeezing my breast; her other hand running slowly down to my mound, as if she were playing chords on me. I felt her fingers touch me, not gently but not too rough – that perfect leisurely determined caress that made me tip my hips up and mewl like a cat in heat. I was in heat, in delirious, delicious, luscious, heat.

When she cupped her hand, her fingers going into me, her palm rosining on my pearl, I arched upward on her fingers to take her further, found what I was seeking, and cried into my ecstasy, cried out her name, "Teddy...Teddy...Teddy!"

She held me, holding me close to her until I stopped shaking; her smiling mouth soft on my neck. Then she leaned back on the thin mattress of the bunk and in an echo of her words months ago, Teddy said, "Do me baby, now."

Kisses. Feathery kisses on her mouth, tasting her lips as if they were made of sweet chocolate. Kissing her neck, where it met her shoulders, tip of tongue susurrous over a tiny mole. Our hands taking each other, clasping fingers between fingers. Kisssing her breasts, soft curve sending me spiraling towards her nipples. Wetting each lush rosy nipple from right to left, from left to right; hearing with delight, "Awwh god baby." Kisses down her stomach, over orange freckles, over her curly down. Her hands becoming tight on my mine, her knees coming up, giving me her sex, her center, my jubilance. 

My tongue lapped her; swirled over her as if I were painting her with my tongue and lips a fine sable brush and she was a watercolor. Lingering on her bud until it swelled and her nails pressed in to my palms and moving to her tight depths, provocatively plunging all of my tongue into her and rasping back up along the roof of her. Her entire body shook and she let out a stuttering sigh. I did it again, and again, and again; my tongue making searching sweeps deep in her and slipping back out. Until, her voice breaking, she cried out, "Please, oh fuck, please baby, please..." and I held her hands tight in mine beneath her thighs and I thrummed my tongue on her swollen bud and on the skin of my face I felt her falling, falling, into a blazing release...

When it isn't pride that makes you happy, when it's knowing that you made her happy that makes you euphoric, you know that something has changed, that you've changed.

I let go of her hands and climbed her, my wet swollen lips seeking hers. We kissed, slowly, softly, Her palms stroking my back as I rested on her. Her eyes were bright and her mouth so tender. The rumpled bunk lifted slightly and fell as the tide moved underneath us. It was a wonderful moment, the motion of the boat matching the motions of how we felt, the salty smell of the bay matching the ripe perfume of our sex, the way our bodies breathed together in a rhythm that was perfect. Her palms slipped down me and lazily caressed my cheeks. I moved my hips on her, our mounds grazing, her downy hair feeling like soft grass on me.

I looked down at her impishly and said, "I want you to do me Teddy."

How quickly we create private languages, how meaningful the pauses... She started to say something, swallowed it, and looked at me and with her hands on my hips started to turn me over. I kissed her, shook my head, cooed, "No, this way," and slide like a snake up the slender tree of her body. All sinuous – hips and legs curving on and around her until my thighs were on either side of her head and my hands bracing on the bulkhead. I heard a strange sigh, almost a whispered wail, and then her face was on me.

Like the way she used her fingers, her mouth wasn't hesitant; she parted my lips with her tongue and plunged as deep as she could. My hips rose and fell with each sweet drive of her tongue. She clutched my buttocks almost desperately as if she would fall, holding onto me as her face pressed so tightly against every fold, every petal of me, as she tried to bury all of her tongue in me.

She was falling, giving me what I wanted, doing what she usually didn't, falling out of whatever boundaries she had set for herself. That thought flooded me, made me writhe on her, made me hear my blood flowing, made my stomach tremor, made me pant out her name, "Teddy, Teddy, fuck yes!"

A muffled cry and her mouth sweetly covering my bud. That was all it took. For my entire body to ripple, for my thoughts to dissolve, for that blinding release to undo my heart.

As I finally slipped down her, had her arms around me, saw her smile – half arrogant, half shy – it came to me, like unwrapping a present, that she was going to be more than a friend.

I shivered a little at that. She thought I was cold and pulled a blanket up to cover us. I nestled against her, exhaled slowly, and promised to myself not to lie about how this time it would be different, only be true to this time...



In The Arms Of A Sadist



It was the summer of 81, and I was living with my grandparents in Lafayette. My grandparents lived in what was historically referred to as "the servants quarters" which was basically a 3 bedroom shack located about a football field away from the mansion that the guy my grandfather worked for, owned. The owners were heavy into real estate and owned a great deal of land in the city. For being rich, they were really nice. They had a below ground pool which was not too far from my grandparents house. I always thought it was odd that the pool was so much closer to the servants quarters than to the actual mansion, but that's neither here nor there. 

I was 18, single, and probably in the best shape of my life considering that I'd just had my first child less than a year prior. I had made the stupid mistake of getting drunk and letting the guy I'd had a crush on since childhood have his way with me. My parents adopted the child, since I was little more than a child myself. Six months later I made the decision to go live with my grandparents for a year to save up for a car. 

I had cart blanch to use the pool whenever I wanted, and I did. Whenever I wasn't working, you could find me at the pool. I was in such good shape, that despite the fact that I smoked, I was still able to swim 50 laps without resting. I did this for almost the entire summer and I'd never felt stronger physically, but emotionally, I was lonely. 

My days consisted of working 2 jobs so that I could save up enough money for a car. I had been at it for about 6 months before I met the guy who would change my life forever.

His name was Bob. I met him one night at my second job where I was a bartender for a restaurant. I'd met plenty guys before working there, but I wasn't interested in dating. I was working on a goal, and the last thing I needed was to hook up with anyone. In fact, knowing I would only be there temporarily kept me from even wanting to meet anyone, but there was something about him that attracted me, and before I knew what happened, I'd agreed to go out on a date with him to shoot pool. We had a great time. He had such a great sense of humor. He had me laughing the whole night.

When he brought me home, he asked if he could kiss me. I wanted to kiss him, so I leaned in and we met in the middle. Although I hadn't kissed a lot of guys, his kiss left me breathless. Reluctantly, I told him I had to get inside, since I had to work the next morning. I had given him my number, but wasn't sure I'd hear from him again. To my surprise, he called me the very next morning before I headed off to work. Just to let me know he had a great time, and to ask if he could take me to lunch. Before I knew it, we had been on 3 dates. 

Everything seemed to be going great except for one thing. Bob was very vague about himself. I began to notice we talked mostly about me. Anytime I tried to find out what he did for a living, or where he lived, he always seemed to find a way to not answer the question. Told me he was between jobs right now, and that he was staying temporarily at his folks house. I had only known him a couple of weeks, so I figured maybe it was just too soon for him to feel comfortable confiding in me. 

In the meantime, he knew everything there was to know about me. Where I was from originally, where my parents lived, where I grew up. The fact that I had a child that my parents had adopted. Everything. He even knew that every Sunday my grandparents had a standing appointment at the dance hall from 5:30pm-10:pm and they were never home before 9:pm.

After we had been on about 4 or 5 dates, he asked me if it would be all right for us to use the pool on Sunday. I told him we could use it whenever we wanted, so long as the owner's weren't using it, and they never did the whole time I was there. He suggested the first Sunday I had off, and I agreed. Looking back, I don't see how I could have been so blind. The red flags are glaring in hindsight, but at the time, nothing really set off any alarms. 

That fateful Sunday finally rolled around, and he drove to my house. It was around 5:pm when he got there. We went right to the pool and disrobed. He was wearing loose-fitting swim trunks and I had on a bikini. It wasn't a string bikini, they didn't have those then, but it was pretty skimpy nonetheless. I had been bragging about how many laps I could swim, and of course, the first thing he does is challenge me to prove it. Like an idiot, I took the bait. I don't remember how long it took me, but I know I was exhausted by the time I was done. I swam over to the shallow end where the steps were and reclined against the edge of the pool trying to catch my breath. About that time, I hear my grandparents leaving in the beat up El Dorado that my grandfather refused to sell.

He comes over to where I'm resting and tells me that since I did so well, I deserve a reward. He starts trying to kiss me and I had to push him away because I was still trying to catch my breath. He seemed hurt, and I explained that I wasn't rejecting him, I just wasn't ready for his tongue in my mouth. So he slips his hand between my legs and starts rubbing my clit. We had never gone this far before, and I wasn't sure we should be starting anything now, and I told him that. I was terrified at the thought of getting pregnant again. 

He kept insisting that it would be alright. That he just wanted to make me "feel good" He told me he would stop if I told him to. Like the young naive idiot I was at the time, I believed him. It had been a long time since a man touched me, and although sex had never been much pleasure for me in the past, what he was doing felt good, so I didn't stop him. He slid my bikini bottoms to the side, and slipped a finger inside me.......then two.....then he laid me back against the steps so that my head was resting on the top step, just out of the water and began kissing me while he was fingering me. I could feel my body start to respond and I started moaning while his tongue was still in my mouth. 

He started telling me how hard I was making him, and put my hand on his cock so I could feel for myself. I jerked my hand away as if it had burnt me, it felt so huge to me. He was a lot bigger than I had expected. Then he started kissing my breasts through the thin fabric of my top, teasing my nipples until they were rock hard. His hand reached behind me to untie my top. I've always been big-breasted, at the age of 11 I was already a 36-D cup, so I always had to double knot my bikini tops. Frustrated, he began to yank it over my breasts, which hurt, and I told him so. 

For me, that kind of broke the mood, and I told him we should probably slow down. He began to pull my bottoms off and that's when it first started to dawn on me that this was getting serious. That's when I started to get scared. I didn't really know this guy, and he was moving way too fast for me. I told him to stop and tried to push him away, kicking myself mentally for letting it get this far. He had already decided that he wasn't going to be stopped, and to convince me, he yanked me down the steps until i was underwater and held me there for what seemed like an eternity, but was probably only a minute or two. I was fighting for my life with everything I had in me, but I could feel myself getting weaker with each passing second. Finally I stopped struggling and he pulled me up out the water. 

I swear, in those few minutes, his whole persona changed. Gone was the guy I had dated for the last few weeks, the one who made me laugh, the one who held doors for me and treated me like a queen. In his place was someone I'd never met before. Surely my terror at the time colored my perspective to a degree, but I'm telling you this guys face was a study in pure evil.

While my whole body was heaving, my lungs desperately trying to suck in the air I was deprived of for so long, he yanked my bottoms off, and none too gently, penetrated me. I tried to scream, but that requires air, and I didn't have any to spare. He had me by my hips, holding me up against the side of the pool, where I couldn't use my legs. I started swinging my arms wildly, hoping to connect with his face. His response was to grab me by the hair and slam the side of my face into the concrete wall of the pool. That pretty much took all the fight out of me..........he continued to pound himself into me while I laid there and looked up at the sky. ..trying to escape the reality of what was happening to me I guess. At that point, I just wanted it to be over with. .......but it wasn't......not yet.

I know now that this guy was a sexual sadist, but back then, I'd never heard the term, much less met anyone like that. I could tell from his increased thrusting and heavy breathing that he was just about ready to cum. In my shock, I hadn't noticed before, but now I was just beginning to feel the edge of the steps cutting into my lower back and shoulders, and with every thrust, it seemed to cut deeper. I started to cry finally, and that seemed to get him going even more. He told me he wanted me to beg him to stop. At that point, I would have done anything he wanted to just get him off of me. I was crying, begging him to stop, all the while trying to move my position just enough to ease some of the pressure off of my back and shoulders when he yanked me down the steps, cracking the back of my head on the second step, until I was back underwater. With no warning, and no time to hold my breath, I swallowed water within seconds. 

You know how they say your life flashes before you.......it really does. I knew this was how I was going to die. I was struggling with every thing I had left in me, but I knew he was stronger, and it wasn't going to be enough. That's when he finally came inside me. He held me down while he slammed himself deep inside me one last time, his body convulsing as he spilled his seed in me. Then, amazingly, he backed away from me, letting me get up out the water. 

I sat on the steps, choking and coughing for what seemed like forever as he pulled his swim trunks back on. Then he threw my bikini bottoms at me and warned me not to go to the police. With one last reminder that he knew where I lived, he took off, leaving me sitting there on the step, knowing my life was forever changed. 

My original plans had been to stay with my grandparents for at least a year while I saved up for a car, then I was going back home to New Orleans. Instead, I quit my jobs the next day, taking the $800.00 I had saved up in the 6 months I was there, and bought the first piece of junk I saw in my price range. Two days later I was back in New Orleans. I never told anyone what happened that day. I thought about calling the police. Dreamed about it in fact, wanting this guy to answer for what he did to me. It didn't take me long to figure out how that would have played out though. I didn't know his last name, didn't know where he lived, or worked. Never met anyone who knew him. Every time we went to eat or shoot pool, it was in a different place where no one seemed to know him.

Plus, there was the fact that I had invited him to use the pool. ....and the poor judgment I used in letting him finger me. Back then, there was no such thing as "date rape" but there was such a thing as a "cock tease" and I knew the police would look at it that way. They may have pursued it based on the fact that he tried to drown me, but since he didn't, it would probably be a much lesser charge. 

That's assuming they could find this guy to begin with, and I had my doubts that they ever would. For a long time I blamed myself for this. Until time and wisdom let me understand that this guy was going to do what he did regardless of anything I did first. He took full advantage of my youth and inexperience to get me right where he wanted me. My only comfort comes from knowing that as awful as it was, I was lucky. This guy could have killed me. Why he didn't, I'm not sure. Maybe I was his first, and he chickened out. All I know is, I'm positive I wasn't his last. He's not the kind of guy who will be happy with a willing party. That doesn't do it for him.

Naturally, the story doesn't really end here. The aftermath was a whole other story, and one really too long to tell. Maybe at a future date I will share that as well.



In the Arms of a Stranger



Here I was, in the huge backseat of a restored '57 Chevy Bel-Air with a woman whose name I couldn't remember; her mouth, tasting of whiskey and tobacco, kissing me, her callused, sure, hands slipping off my panties. My wide hips tipping up to let her, my mouth slack and open to her demanding, slippery, tongue; my head tilted, eyes open, staring at the rivulets of rain streaking the fogged side window. Zippers of her leather jacket rasping on my breasts naked underneath my shaker knit sweater; leather seat slick underneath my bottom. My mind in another place; my body indifferently in here and now.

How did I get here? Deciding to surprise my three-month new lover. Flying up to Baltimore. Seeing her leave her apartment with her arm around the waist of another woman. Crying in the taxi, telling the cabby to just drive, somewhere, anywhere. Going to the waterfront and staring out at the bay for hours. Thinking how I was twenty-three, feeling sixteen. Then, going to a bar, a dive of a place that a friend told me about. Knowing that showing up in a snug, off the shoulder hot magenta sweater and a frothy lace edged denim mini that barely covered my rear and high-heeled open-toes was a screaming invitation. Brushing off nice girls, shy-smile girls, girls with manicures, girls with hopes and dreams in their eyes. Crossing my legs and smiling arrogantly at the baddest girl, the one in sleeveless leather, with a James Dean sneer and orange-streaked punk pompadour; watching her clear the pool table effortlessly with one stroke after another, until she finished, patted the loser on the ass and swaggered over to me.

Small talk, hot talk, the kind that releases butterflies in stomachs. Sending her every goddamn signal that I could: Crossing and uncrossing my legs, keeping eye contact, hand touching her hand when she passed me the daiquiri she bought for me, playing with my hair – all the cues that I learned from magazines, movies, what all blue-grass girls are born with, what women that I fell in love with taught me. Until she leaned over and whispered huskily in my ear, "Let's go for a ride."

She opened the door of the bar for me, she opened the door of her car – I made noises about how cool her vintage blue and white Bel-Air was, and I saw in her eyes a new look, that I was more than a casual pick-up, that there was a person behind the body. The cold ice in me thought, "Great, maybe she'll be a better fuck."

She asked as I got in the front seat, "You know cars?"

I replied casually, "My daddy collects them," and shrugged in a way that said I didn't want to talk. I didn't want to say that my ineffectual Kentucky Colonel of a father mostly collected antique Dusenbergs and Cords – a lady doesn't name or money drop. 

She drove with one hand competently on the large steering wheel, one hand capably on my thigh. I put my hand on the back of her neck as if we were old lovers. She smoked and I didn't ask her not to; I wasn't going to ask her not to stop at anything. She had Patty Cline playing on the radio, "Tho' you try you can't conceal it, Love has brought us only storms, I can see your eyes revealin'..." It took more than I knew I had not to start crying again.

We parked on a tree-lined road that overlooked the dark bay. Her hands pulled me to her; my hands went to her shoulders. My lips parted, an unambiguous come-and-get-me, her mouth got mine, her tongue a sweet invasion. I sighed and thought to myself, "She knows how to kiss." A long, wanting kiss. The radio playing, the beginning patter of raindrops on the car's roof, the soft fricative sounds of our clothes, leather on wool, the denim of her tight jeans on the denim of my skirt; a background of notes, a soundtrack for lust.

As her hands began to caress my breasts over my sweater, I broke off our kiss and gazed into her caramel brown eyes and said evenly, "The back seat."

A drawn out, "Okay baby." We got out, the rain splattering on us, and as I went to the back door she ran to the trunk, popped it and took out a wool blanket. She entered the car and slid over to my side, and there I was.

My panties off, my skirt hiked up, my thigh thrown across hers. Her tongue swirling in my mouth, her hands riding up underneath my sweater, touching the underside of my breasts. My body replied in demiquavers, so slowly, as torpid as my heart. She wasn't a fool, her hands stopped, and her mouth left mine.

She cocked her head and said lowly, "Something happened to you today?"

Today...goddamn, I hated women with intuition. I shook my hair and said, "No."

"You want to talk about it?"

Goddamn, I hated being a lousy liar. I drawled, "Nothing to talk about."

"You want me to hold you?"

Kindness is the flame that draws you in, that consumes you. I whispered, "Yeah."

She pulled me close to her, wrapping the blanket around both of us, her arms hugging me. I put one arm around her shoulder and leaned my head against the curve of her neck. She held me silently while the rain outside echoed the rain I felt inside. Until both stopped falling and I kissed the side of her neck underneath her ear. She shifted and took my chin with her fingers, tipping up my face to hers. 

She kissed me. Sensually, slowly, fully. Her tongue questing with a silky touch. Taking her time, seducing my mouth. Capturing my bottom lip, sucking on it; hearing me cry softly in response. Silencing me with her tongue finding mine, sweeping over it.

Hands on my waist, pushing my sweater up over my breasts. Simply cupping them with her strong fingers, as if testing the weight of them, as her tongue made searching strokes deep into me. Her fingers velvety on my stiff nipples.

Those fingers left my chest, she shifted, and I felt her arms going down and the faint sound of a zipper being tugged. Her mouth trembled against mine for a heartbeat and then her fingers were back on the pebble points of my nipples – sticky wet. I moaned.

Her fingers wet from her womb rolled over my nipples, whiskering, pinching, until my hands grabbed her hair and I mewled on her ripe mouth. Then she leaned me back against the seat and her hand went sliding like hot silk down my stomach to my mound.

She wasn't gentle, I didn't want gentle. Two fingers found me, entered me as effortlessly as if she were entering her key into the ignition of her car. She went in me until her fingers were buried and the ball of her thumb rubbing on my swollen bud. Igniting me. I arched against her hand. Tipping my hips to meet each possessive thrust of her fingers. I moved against her fingers, slithered, writhed, as she stroked and stroked and stroked. Arching in a frenzy of yearning, bucking my hips as she delved deeper into me with each rhythmic push.

Instinct overwhelming thoughts, obeying my body and matching her as she surged and ebbed inside me. Hissing on her mouth as her fingers fucked me. Her breath ragged gasps on my lips as the cadence of our sex built a craze within her as well. Then that unconscious moment, turning into stormy water, into a wave that crashed, once, twice, and again. My head hanging back, my ecstatic cries falling out of me, her exultant laugh as she felt me contract, rippling around her fingers... 

She slowly took her fingers from me, feeling her leave made me sigh at the loss. She pushed herself back to the other corner of the backseat and tugged down her jeans and black Jockey briefs. She raised one long leg – I noticed the pink scar on her kneecap – and rested her ankle on my shoulder. She threw me a wolfish grin and said, "Do me baby, do me now."

I curled my legs under me and bent down. I looked at freckles on her stomach, a curly mound of tawny hair, inhaled her musky, acrid scent. How all my life was a yes to the question posed by the beauty nestled between a woman's legs. My face went to her, to her slippery softness, to her heat, to my haven.

Every woman is different. You rely on instinct, on her sounds, her quivers. I ran my tongue over her from the curls down, tasting, feeling every fold of her, sensing her with my lips and tongue, finding what made her fingers tighten on my hair, what made her say, "yes baby, there."

Discovering that slipping my tongue into her and lapping back out up to her bud made her voice pitch higher, made the back of her knee on my shoulder quiver. Learning that strumming my nails on the inside of her thighs, while the tip of my tongue flipped over her swollen bud in insistent beat that made her hips shake, made her whiny, "Please baby, oh fuck, please..." Finding inside me, a kind of peace, as I took her to that place that was both a release outside and a bonding deep within. That moment of heeding happiness as she held me so tight to her and came with a loud groan that sent echoes into my womb... 

She drove me to the airport, glancing at me now and then with flushed cheeks. I kept my hand high on her thigh, capably. When we got to the terminal, she stood beside me, her hands in her back pockets. A small crowd streamed around us, the island that we made with our emotions. I took her in my arms, she stiffened for a moment – whether shy or afraid I don't know. I kissed her, felt her mouth soften, heard her sigh.

"Forget her," she whispered, "remember me?"

I did.



In the Arms of an Angel



Author's notes:

Trying something different with this story. This is a straight forward Romance. As always, I hope you enjoy it and are welcome to make comments and vote. Yes, this is a copywrited work of adult fiction and all legal disclaimers apply.

Enjoy.



What happens when you're hurling toward your thirtieth birthday and you figure out you're un-loveable? It sucks, let me tell you. How the hell did it ever get this far? What the fuck did I do wrong? Why does God hate me?

Oh fuck this.... Enough of this being pitiful bullshit! I'm stronger than that. So what I'm bigger than most women. I'm use to it by now. No matter how much I hate it, I've become used to being called "Large Marge". I prefer Maggie. But, in this little farm town, trying to change your name, is as about impossible as making the sun come up in the west. 

So what... I'm six two, two hundred and thirty pounds of Mid-West farm girl. Yes, I have tossed my fair share of hay bales. It's not my fault that my grey eyes freak most guys out. Oh sure, once my 44DD chest started growing, I caught some of the boys attention. Not that they didn't learn to keep their wandering hands to themselves. No woman likes to be groped like they're checking melons in the field. 

You're also totally screwed once you get a ball-buster reputation too. Yes, I once thought I was in love. I even let him convince me that sex between lovers is okay before the little trip down the aisle. Not that it was anything to shout about. It felt okay, but no fireworks, no explosive orgasms, like they describe in books. It was just okay. It filled the void and reduced the urge for me to reproduce.

I guess I was lucky I missed that bullet. I didn't know he thought it was also okay to be 'in love' with more than one woman at a time. If it wasn't for my best friend, I might be spending the rest of my life in prison. I know I had homicide on my mind, when I learned Sherry Simpson was bragging about being pregnant by my supposed future husband. 

Thinking back on it, I should thank Sherry. From what I hear, Mr. Wandering Prick; has gotten three other women pregnant, while he was 'visiting' other towns. He could be a millionaire and still be broke; he owes so much back child support. I never understood how someone with such a small dick, could get so many women pregnant?

Anyway, enough of this prattle. I have chores to get done before I headed to my 'cute' little sisters baby shower. Oh, I don't blame her. She got all the little girly genes and I got all the stocky farmer genes, from our parents. She has the perfect little life as a doting wife and teacher in town. More power to her I say.

Hell, we both knew once our parents decided to buy that house on wheels and see the country, that I'd be the one keeping the farmstead going. I sure the hell wasn't going to sell it. I even like the work on most days. When it snows or on really rainy days, it can be a real bitch. But you have to take the bad with the good, or the whole thing will tip out of balance.

As I pulled up to the house, I was met by Manuel. He's my onsite help. In olden days, he is what was called a share cropper. But since he did so much more on my two thousand acres, I usually just called him the yard boss. His wife kept their kids and kitchen tended and I made sure they had enough money to live comfortably. It all works in the end.

"Miss Maggie, My wife, she get the mail. There is a letter for you." He said to me in his corny false Mexican accent. 

"Manny, you know that pisses me off. Your family has been farming this land longer than mine." I scolded him. "Just wait until I tell Wilma..." I left the threat hanging. I knew Manny was one of the most intelligent people I'd ever met.

"Oh, you're no fun...." He complained. "Anyway the beans are doing okay, as long as the locusts don't come. The feed corn is getting a slow start and you're going to have some white faced Angus again. Satan's Ass, got lose and now we know what he was up too. If we don't get enough rain, we're going to have to tap the well again if the pond goes dry."  

"And...?" I asked, knowing he knew I already knew all this. "I've got to get to Charity's damn shower, cut to the chase!" I dusted my jeans and boots before going into the old farm house.

"And the hay is infested with mold and I have someone coming to visit." He said so fast and muttered I had to listen hard to understand it all. 

"Who, and how in the hell did they cause moldy hay?" I asked, trying to untangle his mutterance. 

"John didn't cause the mold.... Those stupid college kids didn't stack it right, and caused the mold. Fucking idiots...! It looks like we'll lose at least half." He made a face and changed his voice to a higher pitch. "I've got a degree; I know what I'm doing." He spit in the dirt. "If they had a brain they'd be dangerous!" He ended, kicking the dirt with his worn boot. 

"Half... that's over twenty tons... We've already got buyers." I cussed under my breath. "Who the hell is this John? I know you wouldn't even think of trying to set me up again with some wandering asshole." I gave him the evil eye, knowing his tricks. Hell half the town kept trying to set me up. Couldn't they just leave me well enough alone?

"NO...! I promise.... John is a friend of my brother's. He needs a place to stay for a bit, a new start. They were in the same unit together. He came home to his wife having an affair with his best friend and six months pregnant. My brother wrote me about it before he...." He looked down.

"Why the hell didn't you say so...? Have some of those over educated idiots, you keep telling me are such a great idea, clean out the old bunk house." 

We agreed after the funeral, we wouldn't get all sappy, thinking about how Manny's brother, Michael died. Yeah it really sucked that he didn't make it back from that godforsaken Desert. But dead is dead and there isn't a damn thing we can do about it.

"Right after they clean the baler." Manny said, still not looking up. 

"Just get it done... I'll be home after the baby shower. Tell Wilma not to fix me anything for dinner. I'll get something in town if Charity doesn't feed me." I turned and headed into the house. I had to hurry or be late... again.

Outside, Manny looked up at the big farm house and sighed. "There needs to be a heard of children running around, making noise and getting into the hay loft." He shook his head, knowing if his boss and friend didn't slow down and take the chip off her shoulder, she'd never allow anyone to love her. 

Looking at his watch, he saw they he needed to get his people busy, or he would be late picking up John at the bus station. 

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



John Nelson looked out the window blankly as the flat farm land passed. He had no idea where the hell he was even going. He didn't care either. All he knew is that he couldn't subject his family to his demons any longer. He knew they didn't support the actions of the government, but he was still proud to have served his country.

He was tired of listening to his brother's Jeremy and Jimmy bitch about the deficit and all the money wasted in blowing holes in a useless desert. How the hell he ended up with a buddy like Mike was another question he pondered, while his mind wasn't trying to forget the hell he had lived through. 

Mike was a short, smart mouthed, pain in the ass, half breed, Tex-Mex. He would tell just as many wetback jokes as whitey jokes and pissed every one off. That was until you needed back up in the field. His nickname was the Tasmanian devil. He was fucking fearless, dependable, and just too good at his job.

It cost him his life. John absently scratched the side of his face, ignoring the long ugly scar. He felt the stiff paper in his pocket. He knew ever word on it. He just didn't know why the hell he listened to his dead friend and was on this damned, hot, overcrowded, bus headed to the middle of nowhere Oklahoma. 

"John, if I don't make it back I want you to go to where my brother lives and tell him that I love him. He has made a life for himself away from all the shit we grew up with. I just couldn't spend all day shoveling cow shit and picking beans like so many of our family. He loves it though and is far enough away from the border where his half Mexican decent will not be an issue." 

"I want my only real friend to find a small slice of heaven after all the hell we've been through. I know my brother, and he will give you the fresh start you need. Just don't put up with his bean dip bullshit and everything will be fine." 

"Thanks for putting out all the fires I started and being there for me when I needed it. If you weren't such an ugly man, I'd say I love you. But you're just too fucking ugly to love. I'll be laughing my ass off at you from the other side. Taz." 

In the middle was a folded piece of scratch paper with a faded address. He didn't have to look at it any more. He had them both memorized. He wondered if all of Oklahoma was so brown and flat. 

The bus pulling away covered John's six five frame with dust kicked up by the engine. He yanked up his duffle and looked around the backwater roadside depot that didn't even to bother paving the parking lot. It smelled of cow shit and rust.

"You must be Mr. John. I am here to pick you up, Senior." A fawning voice came from behind him. John turned, ready to pounce. He held the eyes of the thin guy and he knew who it was. He had the same smart assed look his brother did when he was trying to pull the wool over your eyes.

"You must be Manuel. Mike said you'd try some 'bean dip' shit. He also said you were smarter than most college graduates." John dropped his bag again and held out his hand. "Nice to meet you, I'm John Nelson. I owe you my life." 

Manuel felt like shit for trying to pull a joke on the big man. He saw the scar and knew the story. But until right then, it was just another story. Now, he could see the evidence, it made the story all too real. 

"You owe me nothing sir. From what Michael's letters said, it is I who is in your debt. Please forgive my attempt at humor." He shook the big man's hand. "The truck is this way. Is that all you have?" He pointed to the green duffle bag. 

"Yep, lead the way." John just shrugged and followed his buddy's brother. There was silence during the half hour trip out to the farm. Both men were trying to size up the other. John knew this would be totally different than anywhere he had ever been before. He was used to his family's urban home, not the wide open spaces of farm country. The weather was calm, without the unrelenting heat of the Afghan desert. 

"How long have you been out of the service?" Manuel asked as he pulled onto the farm.

"About six months. This all yours?" John looked around impressed.

"No, I only have about one hundred acres. The rest belongs to Miss Maggie and her family. She took over from her parents when they retired." He stopped the truck in front of the old bunk house. "You can stay in here for now. It's a bit rustic, but you'll have it all to yourself."

"Works for me. So, what goes on around here? You know, for food and stuff. I have a little bit of money, but I didn't see a store as we came out." 

"Don't worry about it. Just come a running when the bell rings. Breakfast and dinner are served at seven in the morning and at six at night. Lunch is usually some sandwiches and soft drinks about noon. Once a week we take the hired hands into town for anything else. Don't be caught drunk and we can go over the rest tomorrow."

"You know I don't know shit about farming, right?" John asked being honest.

"You'll learn." Manuel smiled, liking the plain spoken man.

"Who the hell is that?" John asked when she saw the woman rush from a truck into the main house. Manuel heard the sound of awe in his voice as he turned. She could see the attraction and lust filled eyes. He wanted to smile.

"That's Miss Maggie. She just got home from her sisters baby shower. You will meet her sometime tomorrow." Manuel looked up to see his reaction

"That's a lot of woman." John breathed. He had never liked the skinny frilly model types. He always feared he would hurt them if he actually got involved in his love making.

"And one of the hardest workers. She does twice the work as most of the hands."

"Is she married?" He didn't want to step out of bounds on his first day.

"Only to the farm."

"Are the men around here crazy or something?" He shook his head. "I'd better shut up before I'm eating toe jam. I must be tired. I didn't mean any disrespect." He looked down at Mike's brother and saw the hooded look on his face and wondered what the hell he was cooking up. 

"You settle in, I have to go to the hay barn and make sure something is getting done. I'll be there if you need anything." He pointed to the big metal building. "That's where I'll be working tomorrow."

"Works for me." John opened the door and tossed his duffle on the first bed. He poked around and found a box on the last bed. It had a note on it in neat girly script.

"Here is some food in welcome. I know you had a long hard trip. Welcome to the farm. I hope you find peace here." It was signed Wilma. Inside he found two stacked sandwiches, a bag of chips, a chilled soda, and a slice of homemade lemon pie. 

"Damn, better grub than the mess-hall any day." He said as he took his first big bite. 

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



The next morning, he woke up at five. He got up and put on some shorts and a shirt. He went outside and went through his morning routine. Since he didn't know his way around yet, he stuck to running around the yard and the barn. He figured each lap was about a half mile so after six, he should be fine. 

Maggie heard something out her open window as she was getting up. She looked and saw someone doing laps around her yard. She wondered who he was, but nature called and she had too much to do to stop and worry about it. It was obvious that the idiot wasn't hurting anything, so she'd ask Manuel to look into it.

John saw the flicker of light, but ignored it as he ran. Just some other early riser, he thought. He had heard life started early on the farm. He went in and showered and dressed for the day. At six forty five, a loud bell rang and he walked in the direction of the sound. 

He took the piled plate of sliced potatoes, scrambled eggs and four pieces of sausage. He balanced his plate as a full cup of hot coffee was shoved into his other hand. He found the closest empty seat and dug in. He ignored the whispered conversations around him. He was too busy eating. 

When he finished, he watched to see what to do with the empties. He walked to the big barn that Manuel pointed out and waited. Seeing no one, he started looking around. The first thing that hit him was the fetid smell of mold. He flipped a bale and saw it. He heard some people talking as they walked up

"I don't know why he's so upset. I do know what I'm doing. Stupid wet-back, he should go back to where he belongs."

"Tim, he is the yard boss." A timid girl voice answered.

"So, I have a degree in mathematics, engineering and animal husbandry. I calculated the exact square foot area of the barn and stacked the bales to get twenty percent more in that they were doing before."

"You forgot to account for the air." John said; well under impressed with the boastful man.

"What air? There is air all around." He waved his hands trying to make a point.

"The dry air, that keeps the mold from growing between the bales." John said talking to him like he was an idiot.

"Who are you? I haven't seen you before. What's your name?" The young man asked affronted.

"John... John Nelson." John said hooking his thumbs into his belt. Manuel had heard Tim and was ready to rip him a new asshole when he heard John's reply. He hid behind a stack to see what would happen next.

"Well John, John Nelson; A fungicide will do just as well to keep the mold at bay. You have to maximize your space if you want to increase your profit margin." He said in a superior tone.

"Well buddy, somewhere in that fancy education you've been spouting about, someone should have taught you the first rule of keeping a job." John rocked back on his heels with a cocky smile.

"And what rule is that?" Tim was irritated that this new guy was questioning him. It was bad enough that he had to take orders from that wet-back illegal.

"The 'The boss is always right, so shut the fuck up, and do your damn job like you were told' rule." John wondered how much the over educated dunderhead had cost the farm.

Manuel had to step back so they couldn't hear him laugh. For someone who didn't know shit about farming, he knew more than the college kid who he just slapped back. When he could gain some of his composure back, he stepped out into the light. 

"Mornin boss," John greeted him, "so tell me, how much of this feed has the Professor and Maryanne over here, ruined?" John was irritated, but saw the mirth in Manuel's eyes.

"About twenty tons give or take." Manuel looked at John with new eyes. 

"You're lucky he don't take it out of your pay." He held up his hand to stop Tim from speaking. "How would you like it if they fed you rotten food? I mean that is what this is, cow food." The young girl who John had called Maryanne, even giggled as the Tim stalked off in an insulted huff. 

"So how do we fix it boss?" John looked at the full building and wondered. He had never seen so much hay in one place before. 

"We break down every stack with the loader. We bust open one bale out of every ten and see if the mold has gone into the bale. If it has, the whole stack is ruined. We restack the rest, leaving room for the air movers to circulate and keep it from molding more." John knew his back was going to be killing him before the day was over.

"Well my momma always said, 'it don't get done by praying over it'. You show me what you want and I'll get it done." John shrugged. He was used to hard, hot, heavy work. After fifteen minutes of instruction, John waved Manuel off. 

"I've got this. You go do the other stuff I know you got to do. My granny could follow your instructions." Manuel looked at him and shrugged. If he fucked it up, he could fix it later. It was time to let the greenhorn get his feet wet.

It was noon before he remembered that John was working by himself in the hay barn. He looked over and saw two stacks of hay sitting outside, and could hear the loader running. He was about to go over and check on the progress, when Maggie came up. 

"What don't I know Manny and why don't I know it?" She looked at him and he knew she wasn't in a good mood.

"About...?" He knew better than to back down. "Sorry Mag's, I don't have time for guessing games today." He stood flatfooted and waited for her to unload.

"Tim Holland just quit and asked me to sign off on his internship paper. I told him to take it to you. He's cooling his heels in the kitchen with Wilma glaring him down. What the hell happened and who is the new hand you've hired?" She had her hands on her hips and daggers in her eyes.

"Oh, that." He sighed. "No new hand. Our guest decided to school that arrogant boob in the hay barn first thing this morning." He told her about the conversation he overheard and made her laugh with the 'first rule of keeping a job' comment. 

"He didn't...? He told that ass-hat what? You know I was wondering...." Maggie liked this John and she hadn't even met him yet. 

"Yeah, just fire him, and refuse to sign his ticket. He'll have to repeat his internship. Set him back on his ass a bit." Manuel knew his boss lady so well. 

"I'd like to meet this friend of your brothers." She looked at the barn and wondered just who this guy was.




In the Arms of an Angel



"Right this way Ma'am." Manuel tipped his hat and followed her as they walked to the barn. As they got closer, they saw the Veterinarian intern standing there with a lunch box in her hands. 

"You can eat your lunch with the others' Maria." Maggie said wondering why she was standing there like a moon struck idiot.

"Oh, it's not for me. Miss Wilma said to bring this to the new guy. I've tried to get his attention, but he hasn't stopped yet." Her eyes followed every move of the man in the barn. 

"We'll take it." Manuel smiled, ignoring the sigh and look. 

Maggie just shook her head. "She needs to go see her boyfriend soon. I think she's getting man crazy...." She stopped as John climbed a stack without his shirt. He made it look so easy and those muscles. She was a woman, and well, John was all man. 

Manuel smiled as he put his fingers to his lips and whistled loudly. "Break time John!" He called out over the noise of the loader and held up the lunch box. John nodded and stopped what he was doing.

Maggie looked on, unable to close her eyes, as he jumped from stack to stack until he hit the floor. She was used to looking down at men, but for once she actually had to look up to meet his eyes as he approached. She saw the scars, but they didn't detract for his overall pure maleness. If he was breeding stock, he would be one prime stud. 

"Hey boss... I've got only about a third done. I went every five bales. There is a lot of just surface mold and only a few with mold all the way through. I figured you can make the final yes or no, but why waste it if you don't have to. The surface mold will die in the dry sun and air. Ma'am" He acknowledged Maggie with a nod and a quick look. 

John knew if he didn't want to make a fool of himself, he needed to focus on Manuel. If he took the time to look at Maggie, he'd be lost. She was better looking up close than from a distance. 

Manuel saw the way he refused to look at Maggie and how Maggie was shuffling her feet. He smiled knowing if he let these two alone, it would be spontaneous combustion. But he also knew not yet. They needed to simmer a bit before they would throw caution to the wind. Then, maybe Maggie could settle down and start having the heard of kids he thought she needed. 

"Well, take thirty and have some lunch. They didn't build Rome in a day." He handed John the box.

"Who is Wilma anyway, she's one fine cook." John said looking into his lunch.

"Wilma is Manny's wife." Maggie said and grinned as John's head popped up and looked at her friend.

"She cooks like this and you're still so skinny. Imagine that. Mike could out eat three of us and he was a shrimp too." He smiled and walked over to a short stack and started eating.

"We'll see you at supper." Maggie waved and turned away before she could start drooling. "He knows he isn't expected to work doesn't he." She asked in a quiet voice. 

"Are you going to tell him not to work? He might even be able to keep up with you." Manny smiled at his internal double meaning "Not bad to look at either if you look past the scars." 

"No and NO...! Go fire that idiot and bill him for ten tons of hay. I've got work to do." Maggie stomped off, knowing Manny was laughing at her.

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



So set their schedule for the next month. Maggie would wake up fifteen minutes earlier to watch him take his laps, try and avoid him as he outworked everyone there but her, and act like she wasn't looking at him during supper. 

That all changed one hot, dry, night at two o'clock in the morning. She heard the screaming and it woke her out of a nice dream. She ran to her window and looked out. In the middle of her yard stood John, but it wasn't the John she knew. He was screaming and yelling. She grabbed her robe and headed to the front door. 

"Get down; get the fuck down... incoming. God damn it Taz, watch your back. I'm coming. No you don't, mother fucker." John was lost in his past. To him he was in the middle of a firefight in the desert again. He ran and jumped, not caring he was only in his boxers. "Tony, Billy, watch the flank. Taz stay clear. Grenade...!" 

Maggie went out to get him, but was stopped by Manny and Wilma. "Don't, he might hurt you. He isn't here right now." Manny said with tears in his eyes. "I know where he's at, maybe now I'll really know how Michael died."

"Medic...! I need a fucking medic. God damn it Taz, I told you to watch your back. Die you fucker!" There was an evil glint in his eye as he pulled a trigger that wasn't there. "I got him buddy you just fucking hold on. We got them all! Don't you fucking die on me. You can't die. Mike, you stay right here, you hear me Taz. I need a fucking medic." John was trying to hold in the blood of a man, dead over a year. 

Maggie couldn't stand it. She could feel his pain. She didn't care. She ran out and tackled the hysterical man. "I've got you John.... I'm right here... John, JOHN!" She shook him as he fought his demons.

"I need a medic... I need, don't die. Take me... just take me...."He was crying and holding on to Maggie. 

"I'm here John, I'm right here." She rocked him as the tremors got weaker.

"Let's get him back into the...." Wilma started saying. 

"No, the house... we'll take him to the house. I don't want him alone right now." Maggie ordered. 

It took all of them to get the big man into the house. Maggie pulled the cushions off the long couch and laid him down. "Grab some blankets." She told them when John wouldn't let her go. 

"Just take me... I don't want.... just take me instead." He was still talking in his sleep. 

"I'm right here. I've got you John. Just sleep. I've got you." Maggie kept repeating as she rocked and stroked his hair. 

"You've got... me. You've got... angel eyes." John sighed and slumped against her breasts. 

Just for a second, Maggie thought he was looking at her. She thought he was seeing her. She has heard many comments about her grey eyes, but no one ever called them angel eyes. She hoped he wouldn't remember. She hoped he could forget the terror that haunted him, even though she knew she never would. 

The next morning, John woke up at his usual time. It didn't bother him that he was on a lumpy floor. He had slept in worse places. He turned as saw Maggie laying there in her robe. He noticed that one breast was exposed from her open robe and twisted nightgown. He realized he was in her living room. He covered he eyes with one hand and rubbed hard.

'Shit, I must have had a bad night.' He thought as he noticed the mud smears on his legs and feet. Sighing, he softly pulled her robe up to cover her, and quietly walked out of the house. He wondered if it was time to cut and run or if he should suck it up and face the consequences. He was never any good at running away, so he went to the bunk house and got ready for the day.

Maggie felt him cover her up, but kept her eyes closed. She heard him move and wanted to call him back. She was watching him as he stood in her dooryard and made up his mind. She had tears in her eyes, realizing just how strong John was just to live with the pain he felt every day. She wondered how many of these nights he had had to live through.

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



"How is he doing?" Maggie asked a week later. 

"If he works any harder he'll kill himself. Sometimes I think that is what he wants." Manny said sadly.

"Any more bad nights?" She asked concerned. John had stopped coming to supper and she was starting to get worried.

"Just the one and some yelling in his bed. Wilma thinks he is close to some kind of break or breakthrough. She spends most her time on the computer looking things up." He shrugged.

"He calls you boss all the time. Just make sure he comes to supper. Tie him down if you have to. He'll take it from you." She sighed and walked away. She got three steps.

"Manny, Maggie come quick." Wilma shouted.

"What's wrong?" They started running.

"The hay barn... John is in the hay barn." She pointed. Halfway there they heard John yelling. 

"Come on you son of bitches... come get some. Mother fucking rag heads; Come fight like a man. Come on; you fucking cowards. You'll pay for this shit. COME ON...!" 

"I think he fell asleep while eating his lunch." Wilma said her eyes wide. "They say that sleep can trigger one of these flashbacks. That and any kind of stress. John has been working so hard." They all had come to respect the quiet efficient man.

"You think that hurt. Well fuck you in the ass." They saw him on top of the hay stack, shirtless and wiping his arm across his scar. "I'll show you some fucking hurt, you stupid camel fucker." Maggie almost froze. She knew one wrong step and John would fall thirty feet to the concrete floor. Some reason she remembered his last time and shouted.

"John get down... incoming!" She watched him and saw his instant reaction. 

"In coming... get down... everybody get the fuck down! In coming...!" He took horrific leaps as he bound down the stacks. "Billy, get that Ma-duce up and running, we'll show these fucking bastards. Tony... call it in... come on damn it, come get some." 

Maggie was waiting. She knew it was going to hurt. She was ready for him as soon as his feet touch the ground, she tackled him again. "I've got you.... It's okay John, I've got you." She yelled as he tried to strike at her. John's eyes went unfocused for a second as Maggie's voice started to penetrate the fog of his brain. 

"I've got... you're okay. I've got you." She repeated and rocked him like a baby. He shook his head and looked at her blankly.

"Angel eyes... you've come for me... just take me instead." He said with a blank look on his face. 

"I've got you... you are okay. I've got you... sleep... go to sleep, I've got you." She kissed his brow and rocked him until his body went lax. She stroked his face as tears clouded her eyes. She felt him slip into sleep and then back to wakefulness. 

"What...?" He asked wondered why he was in the hay barn.

"Shhhh, I've got you." Maggie was still stroking him. The words reverberated in his head. He looked up and those eyes were looking down at him.

"I know you." He said his brow wrinkling. "I know those eyes... those Angel Eyes.... Maggie...!" He tried to sit up. 

"No you don't, you just lay here. You're exhausted. You're taking the afternoon off, if I have to hold you down to do it." She told him and pushed him back down to prove she meant business. 

"Yes Ma'am..." he sighed, "how bad was it this time?" He asked afraid that he might have hurt her. He didn't think he could stand it, if he hurt her. 

"Not as bad as the other night, but you still scared the shit out of me." She smiled at him. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Depends... I really don't remember much afterwards. You'd have to tell me what I was doing...." He shrugged noncommittally. 

"I'll tell you what. I have to go to the pond and clean out the filter. Meet me at the truck in ten minutes. We can talk about it and get something done at the same time." She helped him up and dusted him off. 

John changed into some shorts under his pants and waited. He knew he couldn't keep doing this. He didn't even know why he was doing this. All he knew is that Maggie and the rest, just like his parents, wouldn't have patients for putting up with it for too long. 

Manny watched as they headed down to the big pond that fed the farm's backup water system. "I hope she knows what she's doing." He said to himself.

"She is the only one who has been able to get through to him. What she did, shouldn't have worked, but it did. Some of the things he says, point to survivors guilt, some just call it all PTSD. He needs a release. You said yourself there is heat between them. Maybe she is his release valve. I just hope she doesn't get hurt when he runs."

"Why would he run?" Manny didn't understand. John wasn't the running kind. He was a stand there and gets the shit kicked out of you, fighter kind. 

"He will if he thinks it is to protect her. If he falls in love with her, he will run to protect her from his evil." She touched her husband. "PTSD doesn't make sense, but they have done quite a bit a research recently. Retuning vets have an eighty five percent divorce rate. The highest group known. Most say they are doing it to protect their family, once you can get them into counseling." She tried to warn her husband. 

"John is a good man; he will do what is right." Manny was sure of John. John wasn't a coward.

"He will do what he thinks is right to him. He rather be dead than hurt the ones he loves. They think that is why the suicide rate is climbing for vets too." She warned Manny. 

"I'm betting on Maggie. She'll take care of him." Wilma just nodded her head because she knew how stubborn her husband could be.

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

"Who are Billy, Mike, Taz and Tony?" Maggie asked as she drove.

"Taz and Mike are the same, he was Manny's brother. Taz was for Tasmanian devil. Billie was the M60 or 50 cal gunner, Tony was the radio man." John looked out the window.

"How long were you over there?" Maggie though if she could ask the easy questions, he might not balk at the harder ones.

"I was in country seventeen months, two weeks, five days, and nine hours." He shrugged. "I have it calculated down to the minutes and seconds, but that just irritates most people."

"I can see why you did it though." She looked at the road and knew this was going to be a hard one. "What was Michael like?"

"Mike... he was a short, foul mouth, pain in my ass, trouble maker, that drove me crazy. He was also my best friend." John smiled. "His mouth used to get him in so much trouble, but he figured it was my job to get him out of it. We had some great times." He smiled fondly at the memories. 

"How did he die?" She knew she was close to the wound.

"We were in a firefight. Some idiot made a bad throw with a grenade. He jumped on it to save all of us. Stupid fucker; I was just about ready to boot it out of the way when he jumped on it. We were taking fire so I couldn't get to him in time."

"What happened after?" She could hear the pain and anguish in his voice.

"We went after the bastards that did it. Fucking chicken shit assholes. They hide in villages since they knew we try and not harm innocent civilians." He face went tight and his eyes flat and lifeless. 

"That's when you got your scar?" She knew it. She just lived it less than an hour ago.  

"Yeah, Mr. Taliban asshole couldn't shoot straight." He sighed. "I take it this was what I thought was happening back there?" 

"Parts of it. Here we are." She pulled up to the far side where she knew she could have some privacy. She knew she was tempting the devil, but the man she saw, was worth it. She pulled out the towels and the bar of soap. 

She knew by the time they were done, they'd need to clean up in the creek that ran out of the pond. She also pulled out the blanket and the two boxed dinners she picked up from the kitchen. She started pulling off her clothes. This was going to be the interesting part. She didn't bring a suit, other than the one she was born with.

John politely turned his head as he stripped down to his shorts. He caught glimpses of her as she stripped. He had a raging hard-on by the time he was ready to look at her. He was shocked that she stood completely naked in front of him.

"What are...? Ahhhhh um errrr." He stammered as he took in her naked form.

"You might want to lose those shorts. They'll be ruined by the muck on the bottom of the pond, by the time we're done." She walked out into the water, bringing up her arms to cover her hard nipples as the cold water hit her crotch. "Come on, daylight is burning and this is going to take some time." 

John thought of all the maximum effective ranges of every weapon he ever used. He thought of the stock market and the national debt. He thought of anything to try and get his dick to go down. When he got it at least half way, he pulled down his shorts and quick stepped it into the water.

Maggie smiled as she saw him. She knew instantly she couldn't call him a pencil dick. Either that or he had one big pencil. She turned and started looking for the pipe in the water with her feet.

John was glad for the cold water. It let him get a little bit of control. Not much, but a little anyway. 

"What are we looking for?" He asked not able to take his eyes off hers, or what control he had would disappear like a kite in a thunder storm. After awhile, they got busy with the chore, and tried not to think of the naked person standing there.

It took them over an hour to pull up the clogged filter and replace it. They were head to toe muck by the time they let it drift down to the bottom again. Maggie didn't even try and rinse off in the pond. She just grabbed the soap and headed for the stream. 

"Come on, we don't want it to suck in the muck and reclog. We can clean up over here." She said and walked behind a screen of foliage. "Come scrub my back, and I'll do yours." 

He walked around the bush and saw her bend over, opening a water valve. Nothing could stop him from getting hard as he saw a peek of her pink sex pouting at him. Part of his mind screamed at him to burry himself into that waiting cleft.

"The soap is over there." She pointed trying not to look down at the eight inch pole sticking out in front of him. She turned her back and waited. "You can scrub harder. I'm not going to break." She said over her shoulder as he stood back softly rubbing the soap on her back. She mewled in pleasure as he increased the pressure and went from top down. She was biting her lip when he didn't stop at her back and had his hands full of her butt cheeks.

John was in a haze of lust as he scrubbed Maggie. His cock couldn't get any harder. He didn't want to stop when she said "My turn" and took the soap form him. He stood under the small spray as she cleaned his back. He wanted something to hold onto as she cleaned his ass. He closed his eyes as she cleaned the rest. His eyes flashed open when she started cleaning the front.

Maggie wanted nothing more than to lie down and let John fuck her silly. She knew he was just the man to do it. But she also knew with his wide streak of nobility, he wouldn't make the first move. That was up to her. She kneeled down and started on his legs. She moved around and couldn't ignore the bobbing phallus in front of her eyes. The head was purple and throbbing. 

She dropped the soap when she reached his balls. She stroked him and saw his legs flex. She let the water rinse him off and then leaned forward. She wasted no time as the heavy glad passed her lips and sat on her tongue. 

She locked herself around him and sucked him in as far as she could take him. She felt him grab for her head. She knew this wasn't going to last that long, but he needed to shoot in the worst way. 

"OH GOD...!" He exclaimed as his first rope of cum shot out of him and into the back of her throat. She sucked and flicked her tongue over the tip as she tasted him for the first time. 

She knew if she did this right, he wouldn't go soft. As the last big surge left him, she reduced her suction as just let his cock slide in and out of her mouth. She was able to take him all the way in. Then he started hardening again. When he was hard again, she stood up and told him. 

"I'm not some fragile china doll, I won't break." She looked at him and waited for his reaction. 

John's head was still roaring from his first orgasm in over a year. He had hoped she didn't mind that he didn't have time to warn her. When she stood up and told she wouldn't break, he picked her up and looked for a softer spot to lay her down on. 

Holding her up brought those fabulous tits into his reach as his mouth found a hard nipple as he walked to the sandy part of the pond. He set her down, never letting go of her nipple. He licked and kissed every inch he could get into his mouth as she started moaning. He switched to the other one when she begged. 




In the Arms of an Angel



"Equal rights." And moved her other breast over to him to give attention to.

After he had sucked both nipples until they were red and puffy, he started down to her chest and stomach, stopping to nibble and lick her navel, making her squirm. He followed her pressure on his shoulder and nipped and pulled the wiry hair on her Mons. He could smell her and couldn't wait. He opened his mouth and cupped her sex, sucking lightly. 

Moving down, he started at the bottom of her outer lips and started kissing and licking until they opened. He added more and more pressure until she was completely opened to him and he tasted her musk. 

"Damn it, stop teasing... I can't take anymore. Eat me damn it!" Maggie hissed and pushed his head into her pussy. He found her hooded pea and sucked it into his mouth and softly flicked it with his tongue, sending her over the cliff. 

"Ohhhh yessssss." She hissed as her hips flexed and washed his face in her juice. "Come here." She bucked and pulled him up. "I need you in me, NOW...!" She pleaded as John guided himself between her legs.

His throbbing cock didn't need any assistance in finding her opening and slipped right in. John didn't stop until he was fully engulfed and they were pubis to pubis. Maggie wrapped her legs around him and urged him on.

"Oh yeah, fuck me. So good, fill me John. Come on lover take me. I'm so close.... What are you waiting for? FUCK ME!" She lunged up to meet his thrusts and he cock slammed in and out of her vey wet and hungry pussy. 

John was reduced to animal grunts as he slammed himself into her over and over. He never wanted it to end, but knew that all too soon he would fill her with his cum. 

"Here... here it... comes." He panted while his hips flexed and their bodies smacked together.  

"Oh yeah... give it to me... Oh yeah yes, yes, yes.... YES...!" She clutched in orgasm just seconds before he started shooting inside of her. He would shoot and she would clasp. Time and time again, as they rocked hip locked together. 

John's toes were clutched into the soft sand as he felt like everything from his feet up was contracting to push his cum into, and filling her. John collapsed down, partially being held up by her sensitive tits as she hugged him close as the last few spasms of her orgasm rippled through her body. 

"We needed that." Maggie gasped out satisfied. 

"Where do we go from here, Gorgeous?" John asked and leaned down to kiss her.

Maggie's head spun. It was the first time that anyone called her gorgeous and made her feel like he meant it. 

She wasn't bothered about tasting herself on his lips or that she still had the vestiges of his spunk in her mouth. She figured since their fluids were mixing inside of her pussy, this just made the connection complete. She was gasping again when they broke apart. Looking up at him, she sighed.

"Well lover boy," she sighed, "as soon as I can move my legs, I think we need to go rinse a bit and then go over to the truck and get the dinner Wilma sent for us. I don't know about you, but I'm famished." She groaned as she unhooked her heels from around his muscular legs and let them fall limp, to the ground. 

"Don't rush on my account." He lifted himself up to give her more room to breathe and looked into her eyes as his cock twitched inside of her. 

"Get up you sexy oaf. I got to pee." She laughed and then hissed as he pulled out of her. She went behind the bushed and relived her full and abused bladder. She heard him start the water again and joined him under the narrow flow of the small shower head she had put up here years ago.

"Here, let me do that." He stepped back out of the water, so he could rinse the dirt and sand off her back. He could already feel the tingle of his tired cock as it tried to rise to the occasion. 

He could think of nothing better than staying there and having sex with Maggie. They fit so well together, it was like they were made for each other. 

Maggie saw his dick flex and giggled. "I'm hungry." She smiled as she cupped his growing member. "Let's eat first, then we can see what comes up." She flicked a finger over the red head and walked away. She knew he wouldn't be far behind all he had to do was follow his deveining rod. 

John groaned as he watched her walked away. She was just so perfect. She had a real shape with lush curves, a tight ass that was a double handful great for holding onto as he pumped into her, and her pussy felt like it was made just for him. He had been attracted since he met her, but over the intervening weeks had come to respect her too. She just might be the one. 

"Coming, Lover boy...?" She smiled over her shoulder as he stood just watching her. 

John watched as she spread out the blanket and set out the food. He shook his head as she made no attempt to cover her body. His eyes caught every giggle of her breasts, with their pointy nipples, and every swish of her ass that he dreamed of burying himself into. He knew if he kept looking, he might never eat again. His feet finally moved when she patted the place next to her on the blanket and beckoned him with her finger.

Maggie could feel his eyes on her. The way he looked at her made her feel truly sexy for the first time in her life. She knew she was halfway in love with John and hoped that he felt the same. When she moved her finger and he came to her in instant compliance, it was such a rush.

They ate in silence, each just looking at the other. Maggie noticed halfway through the meal, that something was standing at full attention again and begging for her to notice. She wondered if it ever went fully down since the second shower. She could feel her pussy get wet at the thought of riding it like a wild bronco. 

After they finished eating, John pushed the plates out of the way and tried to pull Maggie to him. Maggie, in a playful mood, pulled back. That started a tug of war, with each of them giggling and acting like kids. Maggie suddenly reversed her momentum and ended up on top of him.

"Tickle torture." She laughed and started going for his ribs. She was straddled over his stomach and went for broke. She knew sex was a foregone conclusion. It was just that she had never been able to relax and have fun with it before. 

"No fair...!" John laughed and tried to unseat Maggie as she bounced on him, making those fabulous tits bounce everywhere. He flexed his strong legs, but she had a death grip on his hips. He could feel her wetness and he knew his dick was a bar of blood filled steel. He tried to buck her off and pushed her down. As she tickled him in their love play. 

Maggie was laughing and having a great time. She refused to let go. She gasped and bit her lip as on one large lunge, John's cock penetrated her and didn't stop until he slammed all the way home. 

"Oh god..!" She moaned. John just growled as they became hip locked again.

Taking control, Maggie started flexing her hips, making him go deeper and all around inside of her. She could feel the tip of his cock hit her cervix and she twitched in response. She couldn't take it. She lifted herself up and slammed back down again.

John reached up and cupped her breasts in his big hands. He let the hard nipples fit between his middle and ring finger. He would squeeze with every lunge. Her nipples got bigger as their breaths starting coming out in gasps. 

"Oh yeah... so good. Oh pinch them, squeeze my tits baby." Maggie said as sparks fired between her nipples and her pussy. She reached down and held onto his shoulders as they rocked and thrust against each other. "OH please lover...fuck me." She gasped out.

"Trust me sweetheart I am...." John grunted as their hips slapped together again. "Never want to stop."

"Suck my nipples." She begged. "Oh yeah... harder... oh fuck that so feels good." She panted as John sucked on one nipple then the next, as her hips flexed on his hard cock. 

"Oh shit...!" She gasped when he pushed her tits together and sucked both nipples at the same time. "Harder... please harder.... OH FUCK YEAH!" 

She egged him on as the fire was building between her legs. She wanted to lean back up and fuck him for all she was worth, but the sensation his mouth was giving her nipples was driving her crazy with lust. 

John finally realized that she just might be a person he didn't have to hold back on. He nipped and bit her nipples and grabbed her ass hard, as his cock would piston in with each of her thrusts. He could have sworn they were going to be bruised from how hard their groins were smashing together. He could feel the tingle in his nuts that told him he was almost there.

"OH FUCK!" She lurched up and really started to ride the cock that was sending such great feelings through her body. 

"Pinch them, pull them... come on baby, I'm so close, grab my tits baby! FUCK ME JOHN, OH FUCKME!!!" She screamed as she started climaxing. She shoved down hard and started rotating her hips as she felt his glands expand. 

"Cum in me... cum in me... cum in me." She chanted between clenched teeth while his hands mauled her tits and nipples. She came harder than she had ever accomplished before, even with her special friend of the nightstand. Orgasm exploded behind her eyes and shattered her body as she shoved with all her might, down onto to John's boiling cock and balls. 

With an inarticulate roar, John lifted her off the ground as his balls flexed and his dick started spurting deep inside her. He could feel the clenching pussy, milking him as each glob left his dick and was sucked into her body. Maggie was holding on for dear life as they rode the wave of orgasm together. After the third spasm, her hips flexed and his balls responded. Over and over again they would counter each other moves, blind to anything but the haze of their bodies need to complete the mating ritual.  

It seemed like an hour, but less than a minute later, John's legs gave out and Maggie's arms went lax. They ended up in a heap of hot sweaty limbs and tangled blanket. Somehow he was still plugged into her, while she was trying to breathe but unwilling to let him go. 

It was the worst time in the world for Maggie to remember that she had stopped taking any form of birth control over six months prior. She never thought she would get pregnant, because there was no one to have sex with. So, why waste the money on the expensive pills. She was having second thoughts, but was too stunned by their lovemaking to worry about it just then.

John didn't know or care about any of that. He was still coming down from the best sexual experience of his life. He never thought he would meet someone who could take his unrestrained sex like that. His ex-wife always complained that he hurt her because he was too rough. Maggie seemed to relish in the wild nature of it. He hoped this wasn't a one time thing.

"For someone with such pretty angel eyes, you sure have a naughty nature in you." John gasped out as he was still trying to catch his breath.

"Oh, my...!" Maggie sucked in air as her body responded to his words.

"So, what happens now?" He asked as his hands softly rubbed her back and the side of her legs as she lay on him not moving other than taking deep breaths.

"We wait until we can move..." she gasped out, "then we crawl over to the truck and try to drive home before the bugs come out and try to eat us alive." She was still breathing heavy as she tried to talk. "Once we get there, we drag ourselves to either your or my bed and sleep." 

"Um hmm... and then?" He asked, as his hands continued to roam, familiarizing themselves with her plush body. 

"And then, you wake up at five and I watch you run your sexy ass around the yard for fifteen minutes before I jump into a cold shower. After breakfast, we can go into town and get some stuff I've noticed you need. If you want to go that is." 

She looked into his eyes. She hoped this wasn't a one day romp. If she had her way, John would never leave. She knew she could easily get used to doing this on a regular basis. 

"Works for me." He hugged her, as his finally his softening dick, slipped out of Maggie, making both of them shiver. 

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



Meanwhile, back on the farm, Wilma kept looking down the road to where the truck should have been coming back a long time ago. 

"Mina... what is wrong?" Manny asked his wife.

"They should've been back by now." She sighed. "Do you think you should go looking for them?"

"No... they're fine. Maggie told him to take the afternoon off. She's just making sure he does." Manny had a suspicion what they were doing, but he wasn't going to tell her that. 

"What if they're hurt? What if the truck broke down? It's five miles to the pond. They could be helpless." She turned on her husband.

"Sweetie, Maggie is never helpless. I think John can take care of things too." He patted her back in reassurance. 

"What if he goes into another flashback? What if he hurt Maggie?" She paced. "I'm getting our truck." She took of her apron and headed for the key hook.

"Honey... don't, they're fine... trust me." He tried to reason with her.

"And if they're not?" Her foot tapped.

"Honey, what happened the last time we went to change the filter together? Remember about nine months before our last one was born?" He raised an eyebrow. "If they are doing that.... I don't want to see it." He looked into her eyes and wiggled his brows.

"Oh... oh... OH...! They couldn't... they wouldn't... would they?" She asked, her eyes going big and her face turning red.

"Maggie packed four things. Towels, soap, blanket, and food. We both know what changing the filter is like. They are healthy adults that have been sparking off each other since John got here. Hell, he might just be able to get a handle on her." He hugged his wife. "And that wouldn't be such a bad thing now, would it?" 

"What about the PTSD stuff? A romp at the pond won't cure that." She added as she blushed.

"No, but it might be a good start. Start healing a wound that runs deep. Remember love, the military isn't the only thing that has caused him such pain." 

"What do you mean?" She pulled back to look at her husband. 

"I mean according to my brother before he died, John went home on leave and found his wife pregnant with one of his brother's kid. It might have been a best friend, Mike didn't know for sure and he knew better than to push. John was a different man after that. Mike said there was a viciousness that hadn't been there before."

"And he's falling for Maggie, no wonder he's having flashbacks. Why didn't you tell me? I would've told you to keep them apart. If he thinks she might do the same thing. There is no telling what could happen."

"Tsk, tsk, tsk... you know Maggie better than that. Today is the first time in over a year that she has taken any time off. She'd no more cheat on John as the man in the moon. If they didn't become lovers today, it will happen soon. Those two were made for each other. John will give her big strong babies to settle her down. Take my word for it." He smiled.

"Didn't you listen to a thing I said? If he thought he might hurt her, or if God forbid, she got pregnant, he will have a violent reaction to it. This is not a good thing. This is bad... very bad. I've read...."

"A bunch of mumbo jumbo by a group of idiots who think they know better. Maggie is just what he needs and John is exactly what Maggie needs. They will be good together.... Just look at them and tell me I'm wrong. I've seen...." He huffed irritated. "Mina... I love with my whole heart, but in this you are wrong. Once they are together, there is nothing that will pull them apart." They both turned as they heard the truck. "See, I told you so." Manny smiled and waved as they passed.

Maggie pulled the truck to the back door. She wasn't going to flash the hands anymore than necessary. She had on her shirt, pants, and boots. Everything else was wrapped in the towels. John had his shirt and shorts on. She swung the door open and pulled John in behind her. She held her shirt closed with the other hand as her boobs bounced freely, trying to get out.

They ran upstairs like children and slammed her door behind them. Within seconds, they were both naked and falling on her bed as he slipped into her and she moaned into his kiss. 

"I'm going to be sore for a week if you don't stop... and I'll kill you if you do." She kissed him again and settled her legs on the back of his, as they found their rhythm with her hips meeting his thrusts.  

"Damn, I can't get enough of you." He kissed her as she locked her legs around him again.

"Shut up and fuck me." She ordered and gasped as he increased his thrusts in and out of her white and frothy pussy. They clutched and pounded at each other for ten more minutes as Maggie continued to come in waves. John stiffened up and shot what was left into her core and heaved down on the bed exhausted. Within a minute, they were both asleep. 

A couple hours later, Maggie was woken up when she felt him start twitching. She moved his clenching hand away from her tender nipple and stroked his arms. Turning over she kissed his head.

"I'm right here sweetheart, you're home now... it's okay, go back to sleep." She hugged him and felt him relax.

"Love you..." He murmured, and started snoring.

"I love you too. Go to sleep John." She snuggled in and sighed. She knew she could get used to this, as she lay there wrapped in his strong arms, sleeping on his chest. 

She woke up an hour later feeling him slide in and out of her from behind. As the fog of sleep started to part, she pushed back into him. "Mmmmnnn. That feels so good baby." She moaned as his hips started moving faster.

"Oh yeah, harder... take me there lover. Take my pussy. Make me yours... oh yeah, oh, baby fuck me." She was now awake and gripping the edge of her headboard, giving herself some leverage to shove back against him as he slammed into her again and again. "Oh yeah, oh yeah right there... harder... oh yeah HARDER JOHN!" She pushed back as her pussy clamped onto the invading pole as he made her cum again.

John was having a great dream. He was making love to his wife in the middle of the night. She was begging him to fuck her harder. He was confused... Tabatha had dark hair, but this wife had light. He felt his hips flex as the dream became real. He was fucking Maggie and she was telling him to go harder.

It was hard, fast, and intense. As soon as her pussy clamped down on him, he was shooting off into her depths. Where it came from he didn't know. He thought his balls would have been empty by then. They lay there fully connected and panting. As she snuggled back, he reached around and found his new favorite handholds. In seconds they were asleep again. 

It was the first time in forever since she slept past six o'clock. It was the first time since she had her period since she slept past seven. The last time it was past nine, she was a kid sick with the influenza. 

Maggie kept reaching out to turn off the light. She needed a few hours of sleep if she was going to be worth a damn in the morning. She had to get a bunch of stuff done if she was going to take John into town and get him good work boots and other stuff he'd need to move into the house.

When her mind flashed John's name, she reached back and found him behind her. Sighing, she realized it hadn't been a dream. Her lover was solid muscle and spooned behind her, sticking her in the butt with that blunt stick that she had learned to enjoy so much in such a short time. 

"Afternoon, Angel Eyes." John kissed her neck, giving her goose flesh.

"Mornin love." She yawned. "Who left the light on?" She stretched and found she was a mite tender in a few places. "Time is it?" She asked opening her eyes to his smiling face.




In the Arms of an Angel



"About ten. You didn't want to get up earlier." He moved back as she sat straight up.

"Ten, you let me... ohhh." She breathed as parts of her body complained about the quick movement. 

"Problems...?" John asked with a smile.

"Feels like I was rode hard and put away wet." She said automatically, and then grinned at what she said.

"Yep, that about sums it up." He laughed. "To be fair though, you did start it." He pulled himself up and sat behind her. 

"Which time? I remember waking up to being completly ravished late last night... not that I'm complaining. You can wake me up like that, anytime you want lover." She leaned back into his chest and sighed. 

"I might just take you up on that." He nibbled her ear and kissed her neck.

"Damn, it's a shame you let me sleep in so long. That means... hhmmmm I'll give you a year to stop that; we can't go into town today." She shivered against him. "Jeb Dawkins is coming to buy fifteen tons of feed and I have to talk to Troy Leman about using the harvester."

"Yeah, Manny told me when he brought up breakfast. He also said something about talking to the Sherriff about letting inmates help pick the melons because the migrants have thinned out lately." He held her from behind as she stiffened up.

"Talking to my yard boss about my business already?" 

"Nope, he said to remind you. Sweetheart, you're the farmer, I'm just the lumper labor. Unless you wanted him to come in here and see you spread out in your altogetherly altogether? I mean I enjoy the view, but I'm not into sharing it, even with Manny." He squeezed her and nipped the other ear. 

"Oh... okay, I'm sorry." She sighed again. "I guess we'll both have a few things to get used to. Unless you want to stay out in the bunk house?" John heard the fear in her voice.

"Well, if you don't let me get anymore sleep than last night, I might have to.... Can I take these with me?" He lifted her breasts in his hands and wiggled them.

"Just like a man, only interested in my boobs." She huffed with a laugh in her voice.

"And your ass and your...." He was silenced by her lips.

"Come on smart ass, time for a real shower." She got up and walked, swishing her sore hips, into the bathroom.

"Better than a dumb one...!" John followed her and watched as she started the water and adjusted it to warm enough not to be cold. "Is there room enough for two?" He asked wiggling his eyes.

"I'd have to ask my parents. I seem to remember them taking some pretty long showers when I was a little girl. That was about nine months before my sister came along." She stepped in. "Get in here before we run out of warm water." She crooked her finger and John instantly complied.  

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



If anyone had a complaint about John moving from the bunk house to the big house, they knew better and kept it to themselves, if they wanted to keep working. It helped that John got out in the fields and worked most of them into the ground. 

Summer was fading into harvest season and the farm was getting ready to go into full production mode. The only real changed was that you wouldn't find John taking so many runs in the morning. Not that the crew didn't know how he kept his aerobic rate up. He and Maggie acted like two minx in heat.

They had been spotted in the truck, in the hay barn, even in the combine. Wherever they might find enough time to take the edge off, until they could get home and get really busy. Manny smiled good naturedly as the harvest got closer and John was again taking his morning laps. 

Maggie was feeling like death warmed over. She hated not being able to make love to John. But, getting sick every morning, and every evening, was a bit inconvenient. She knew she was stressing about the harvest. She had over a hundred people praying for a good harvest and good market prices so everyone could keep food on the table and a roof over their heads.  

John's bad nights were getting less frequent and less intense. Now, as soon as the nightmare started, all Maggie had to do was touch or sooth him, and he fell right back asleep. How they skipped over the whole dating phase and right into the loving couple phase, she didn't know or care. She did know that she was in love with John and he swore he was in love with her. Only time would tell. If John could put up with her bitchyness during harvest, they might have a chance. 

John knew Maggie was stressed and only worked harder so she didn't have to. So what if they went from having sex over ten times a week, down to six or less. It was still the best feeling he could ever have as they would get into it and she was the one to push it farther and harder until they were both gasping in complete exhaustion. He also enjoyed the soft slow times where they would make love for hours and fall asleep in each other arms. Each time was different and each time was fantastic. He couldn't ask for a sexier, more loving or more giving person, to want to share his life with. 

Everyone on the farm had become instant weathermen. All it would take is one early cold storm and it could take out half the crop. They had missed all the tornados, but everyone was talking about the predicted early winter. 

Wilma had other things on her mind. She had seen all the changes and was worried about Maggie. She saw the weight loss, the pale face most of the day, and other changes. She knew she had told her that she needed to go back on the pill as soon as she knew John and Maggie were having sex, but she didn't know if Maggie had taken her advice. 

She didn't want to see Maggie hurt, when John decided it was best for all of them to leave them for their own protection. She knew it was going to happen. According to her research it happened in eighty seven percent of the cases. She jumped when the phone rang.

"Hello... yes Allen... really... I'll get her there as soon as I can. Okay Allen... thanks. Give Charity a kiss from all of us." She put the phone back in her apron and yelled for her husband. "Manuel...!"

"Yeah Mina...?" He asked, hoping she didn't find his stash of cherry pop-tarts. 

"Get Maggie, Charity's in labor." She told her husband, knowing he could find her if anyone could.

It took Manny a half an hour to track her down and another fifteen minutes for John to convince her to let him drive. Maggie was giving him fits as she tried to tell him all the short cuts into the hospital. An hour later, he pulled up to the entrance and stopped the truck. 

"You go in and find what room she's in and I'll park." He kissed her soundly and sent her on the way.

Maggie ran up to the information desk and blurted. "OB/GYN... it's an emergency." She couldn't help it. This was her sister and she was late... again! As Maggie was running down the hall, the little old lady at the desk called down to let them know an excited person was headed their way, with an OB emergency.

The nurse was looking for her. She saw the woman, and noticed the signs of what could be a distressed early pregnancy. She waited for Maggie to come up. 

"I'm here...." Maggie panted.

"Who is your doctor? Are you in your first or second trimester? Where does it hurt? How much blood is present?" She asked quickly "Calm down now sugar, we've all been doing this for a long time. You aren't doing your baby any favors by getting all riled up." She was trying to get Maggie to take deep breaths and sit down. 

"What...? Not me... my sister... I was told my sister was in labor." Maggie gasped out, wondering what the hell the batty woman was talking about. 

"Whew, okay you still need to calm down though sweetheart. Your baby will appreciate it. We thought you were having an early pregnancy emergency. How far along are you? It will be nice to have little cousins to play together." She smiled kindly.

"But I'm... not... um, where is my sister?" Maggie was shaking her head, trying to clear it. "I'm here for my sister, Charity Wilcox."

"She's in delivery room four... I'll walk you down slowly." She looked at Maggie's face. Yes, she had been doing this for a long time, and she knew all the signs when she saw them. "If you didn't know, you might want to talk to the doctor as she swings around. The sooner you get into prenatal care the better." She patted Maggie's arm and opened the door. "You've got visitors."

"Hey Mag's... you come to see the balloon pop?" Her sister Charity asked in a dreamy voice.

"They just gave her the epidural. She's feeling much better now." Allen, the worried father, said as Maggie came into the room. 

"What's up with the people here? They got pregnancy on the brain or something?" Maggie asked looking around the room.

"They're some of the best in the region Mag's. That's why we came here. The next best place is all the way in Oklahoma City. Why?" Charity asked trying to see what was so different about her big sister. She could see it, but not understand it with the drugs flowing through her system.

"Am I interrupting?" John asked from the opposite side of the slightly opened door.

"Can John come in Char?" Maggie asked her sister.

"Sure... it will be hours yet, or so they tell me." Charity waved expansively and grimaced as another contraction rippled through her body.

"Come on in babe." Maggie opened the door and blushed. She forgot she hadn't really talked to her sister about their relationship yet.

"Hey angel eyes... what's wrong?" He asked and went to hug the fear out of her eyes.

"Who is that...?" Charity asked her husband.

"From the look of things, he looks like a friend of Maggie's. Maybe even a little bit more." Allen looked up at the big man and hoped he never pissed him off. He was so big; he made Maggie look normal. Maggie made him look small and he was normal sized. 

"Margret Marry Tyndale... have you been keeping secrets for your little sister again?" Charity put her hands on her hips and started puffing through the next contraction. 

"Noooo, not really." She said slowly, "Well, with you being pregnant and working over the summer, and it's getting to be harvest time, I just haven't had the time to stop and talk." She shrugged it off. "Charity and Allen, this is John Nelson. He's been staying at the house and helping on the farm." She made the introductions.

"Why are you blushing honey?" John asked trying to translate the hidden sibling communication. 

"Because I just caught her in a big fat fib. She could never lie worth a hill of beans." She pointed at her red faced sister. "Take a good look John... if she telling a whopper, she gets that exact look on her face. Do mom and dad know yet?" 

Charity teased her sister, knowing there was much more than just a helper in John, if Maggie was having that kind of reaction. Had she finally met the one, she wondered?

"No...." Maggie bit out.

"Maggie's got a boyfriend. Maggie's got a... ooohhh that was a good one." A sharp kick stopped her teasing. 

"Um, why don't I take John to get some drinks while you two catch up?" Allen laughed a bit at the look on Maggie's face. "Um yeah, your folks are on their way, they were already heading this way before we called. Um, John you want to help carry some stuff?" 

"Um, yeah... sure." He turned Maggie's face to him and gave her a soft kiss. "Play nice sweetie. I won't be far away." He wanted to make sure they knew where he stood with things. As a matter of fact, he wondered what it would be like waiting for Maggie to give birth.

"So, is this serious Mag's?" John heard the question and Allen walked him down the hall where he couldn't hear the answer. 

As anyone who has been through it knows. Once the adrenalin wears off, there isn't much to do at a birthing but wait around for the baby to decide when to make their auspicious appearance. John wasn't a talkative person to begin with and sitting there in the coffee shop didn't push him to answer question that he felt wasn't any of their damn business anyway. 

He would bring Maggie something to drink every twenty minutes or so and make himself scarce every time one of the nurses or doctors came in for one of what he started calling the girl huddle. 

You know, when all the girls gather around the pregnant woman, and huddle to try and coax the little bugger out of his or her warm sleeping place. If he heard 'it's progressing' one more time, someone was getting hit. Only once did he forget to knock and came into the doctor talking to Maggie.

"You're going to have to start taking it easy for awhile. You need to make an appointment as soon as you can, but you can go and get some over the counter vitamins with iron, until we can check everything out." She rubbed Maggie's arm in reassurance. "You are young and healthy so you should bounce back fairly quickly once the nausea calms down."

"Um, Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt. Is everything okay?" He stammered, wondering why Maggie was talking to the doctor. He figured it had to be about her feeling so sick lately. 

"Yes, everything is fine... congratulations, Maggie is a really good person." The doctor passed and went back out to the nurse's station. 

"Thanks doc, I kind of think she's special too." He smiled and hugged Maggie.

Maggie sighed... he listened in and didn't go running for the hills. At least that answered the question about what he'd do when he learned about the pregnancy. Now, if she could get the commitment out of him before her parents found out. 

"So, how are your sister and the baby?" He rubbed her back and held her close.

"The doctor said things are progressing. I'm sorry it's taking so long. They say the first takes the longest." She wondered if he would be this calm and supportive when she went into labor. 

"I feel about as useless as a rowboat in the middle of the desert." He kissed her neck and made her giggle. "I guess I'll go take another walk and bring you some more coffee in a little bit." He hugged her before letting her go.

"Babe, make it juice. The doctor said I need to reduce my caffeine and soda intake." She smiled at him and walked back into the labor room as he waved, letting her know he heard her request. As he walked by, he heard two guys talking.

"Hey, wasn't that Large Marge? I wonder if I could convince her to do the dunk tank this year for the harvest festival." He asked pointing down the hall.

"Why...? All she would have to do is stand up to keep herself dry. I want to see her in a wet T shirt. I'd love to get a look at them hooters." He wiggled his eye brows. "Make the water really cold, it might be my only chance before she kicked my ass." John wondered who they were talking about since the hallway was empty. 

John walked another lap around the hospital and stopped to get a bottle of juice for Maggie. He passed one of the guys who was talking and didn't pay attention. He saw Maggie come out of the room and smile at him.

"Hey, Large Marge, can I.... ack erk gook." He found he couldn't talk because something or someone had a hold of his throat.

"What the hell did you just call my girlfriend?" John asked in a deadly quiet voice. He saw the hurt look on Maggie's face and that was all it took.

"John, don't... they've called me that almost all my life." Maggie called, surprised on how fast he had moved.

"Have I been here all your life?" He asked with raised brows. "I didn't think so. I think the sod stomper owes you an apology, isn't that right?" He moved his hand up and down to make the idiots head move. "Go ahead and apologize to Miss Maggie and make it good."

"I can't breathe..." He gasped out. 

"If you couldn't breathe, then you couldn't talk, now get to talking." He had him pinned against the wall, his eyes bugging out. "And no, she will not be going into the dunk tank or be putting her breasts on display for the immature." 

"But everyone calls her that." He tried to reason with the unreasonable.

"I'm someone and I've never insulted her like that. Now say you're sorry." He lifted the guy by his jaw until he was on his toes.

"Sorry Margie... I won't do it again. I promise!" He gasped out.

"Good, now you can go tell everyone else in this mud-pit that if I ever hear that name again I'm going to get irritable. Trust me partner; you don't want to make me irritable. We clear?"

"Yes clear...!" He tried not to wet himself.

"John... its fine; you can let him go." Maggie put her hand on him. "He doesn't know any better. They called me Marge in school. I changed to Maggie years ago."

"Fine... you hear that? I'll let you go now as long as you don't try anything stupid. Beat it sod buster." John dropped him and faced his lover. "Yes...?"

"You big oaf... I do love you." She hugged him as she watched as Randy Gellman ran down the hall to the restroom. 

"What's going on here?" a huge man shouted as he stomped down the hall. Next to him was a woman the height of Charity but with the build of Maggie. 

"Mom... Dad, I didn't know if you were going to make it." Maggie smiled at her parents.

"Timed it just about right, I'd figure. Remember I've been through this a time or two. Besides, I had to find a place to park the rig. Who's been hurting my little girl?" He asked as he gave her a bear hug. "So, who's the man you were hanging all over like some love sick fool?" 

"Maggie, it's time!" Allen poked his head out and saw hiss. "Mr. and Mrs. Tyndale...." 

"I'll be out here. This is for family only." John said and headed to the waiting room. 

"Quit looking all cow eyed at him and take me to see your sister." He ordered and scowled at John's back. 

If he hurt his baby, he'd have to kick his ass. It might take some doing he thought, but it was the principal of the thing. No one but him seemed to understand how fragile his Margret was. She might have gotten his size, but she also got her mother's tender heart.



It amazed him how the girls were opposites. Charity, who just a mere slip of a thing, got his manners, but her mother's height. He used to call her, his tempest in a teacup. She was mean when she lost her temper. 

Randy, who was coming out of the bathroom, kept holding his neck and rubbing it. "I should call the Sherriff and report him." He hissed, leaning against the wall. "All I was doing was asking a simple question." 

The nurse, who saw the whole thing, came up to him. "Here, let me look." She lifted his jaw and looked for any damage. "He didn't even bruise you. Quit being such a wimp. If you called my pregnant woman that, I'd done worse." She turned her back on him and stomped off. She had more important things to do. 

Forty five minutes later, John looked up as Maggie came in with tears in her eyes. "It's a girl." She said quietly. "A perfect little girl, with rosy cheeks and blonde hair. They haven't named her yet. Allen had insisted it would be a boy and was going to name him Allen Junior."

"Come here Babydoll." John held his arms open to her. "You look tired. Did you get all the particulars for Manny and Wilma? I'm sure they'll want to know." He kissed her head and rubbed her back and she leaned against him. 

"Mom and dad will bring it when they come. I have enough for now. Seven pounds and six ounces and sixteen inches long. She's so tiny." She was sniffling into his shirt. She couldn't believe that in less than eight months she would be doing the same thing with their first. 

"Okay, why don't you go and say goodbye so I can take you home and put you into bed." He pushed her back and kissed her nose.

"Sounds like a capital idea. Pick me up at the entrance. I don't know where you parked the truck. We can get something healthy to eat a Carl's on the way home." 

"Your wish is my command, oh sexy one." John bowed and patted her butt to send her on her way. She bit her lip as she watched him walk away. She didn't know how she could love someone so much in such a short amount of time. Sighing happily, she went to tell her family goodbye.




In the Arms of an Angel



Maggie was nodding off against his shoulder as he pulled up to the house. John had to nudge her awake. "Come on sweetheart, time to give Manny a quick briefing and get into bed." She helped her out of the truck and held her in his arms as she told Manny the particulars. Manny went to start asking questions, but was stopped by John.

"She's done in. The doctor said she needs some rest. Her folks will be here in the morning. They have the rest of the information. I'm putting her bed now." He waved and took Maggie into the house. As soon as he laid her down, Maggie pulled on his arm so he was sitting next to her.

"Honey, I need you to make love to me. I need you right now." She put her fingers to stop him from accepting automatically, like she knew he would. "We have to take it easy for a little while. I'll miss the urgency of our lovemaking, but I need you to love me softly until after my stomach settles. The doctor said it might take a few weeks. Is that okay with you?" She moved her hand to let him speak.

"For you... anything." He kissed her fingers. "Let me go wash and I'll be right back Babydoll." He kissed her and brushed back her hair tenderly. "My beautiful Angel eyes." He breathed and went to take the world fastest shower. 

When he came back, he softly held her still as he kissed every inch of her skin he could reach. When he tweaked her nipples, she hissed. "Softly, they're tender." She moaned as he adjusted and loved her so tenderly.

John wanted to show her just how tender and loving he could be. He took his time moving down to her sex. When he was there, he kissed and licked all around it. As her scent grew, he noticed it had a heavier, muskier texture. It didn't bother him. Maggie was his lover and this was just another part of her to enjoy. 

He didn't tease her. He licked and sucked her pussy until he felt her get moist enough to make love to her. He moved her onto her side and cuddled behind her. He took carful aim and let himself slip into her softly. It was slow torture for him, but he would give her what she asked for. 

Maggie clutched his arms to her, as he hugged her from behind. She was overwhelmed by the tender care in which he loved her and protected their child. She could feel his love as his gentle rocking stimulated a tingling spot deep inside of her. All she could do was moan and succumb to his gentle loving.

There was no heated rush. All that existed was a warm glow, as they moved together as one. There wasn't a mad throbbing climax, but a series of rolling orgasmic contractions. No slamming rush to the finish, but a slow gentle probing as they mated. 

"I love you so much." Maggie groaned as she felt him reach his peak.

"I love you too." He breathed into her ear as they rocked and held each other. They dozed with him still embedded inside her. With a soft sigh, they hugged and fell asleep. 



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

The next morning, while John was making sure he didn't wake Maggie as he slipped out of bed, Manny was dealing with the former owner.

"Okay Manny, what and the hell has been going on since I went on vacation? Who's this clown who moved into MY house and is trying to take over?" He demanded and ignored the rolled eyes. 

Manuel wished that Mildred was here to keep Jason in check. But, she was helping Wilma in the kitchen. 

"Sir, John isn't a clown. He is a friend of Michael's from the military. They served together over there." Manny tried to tell Jason what was going on, but wasn't surprised when he was interrupted.

"And that makes him qualified how, to run a multi-million dollar farm?" Jason knew he was going to lose. He just wanted to make sure his farm was in good hands. He figured at least this guy was someone he could respect.

"It doesn't." John came up, hearing the conversation. "And I don't. Maggie and Manny run things. I just put my hand in wherever it's needed." He nodded to Manny and stood flatfooted in front of Maggie's father. 

"Where is my little girl?" He demanded.

"Still sleeping. She needs the rest." John glared back.

"Jason, I see you've met John. He's one of the hardest workers...." Manny tried to defuse the open hostility that was brewing. 

"Sleeping... It's almost harvest time. There isn't time for sleeping. Am I going to have to take over this operation again?" Jason put his hands on his hips in challenge. 

"The doctor said she needs rest. She's been sick for weeks. I'm not going to make her sicker for something that we can take care of while she gets some sleep and feels better." John took a step forward.

"Jason... we know what to do. This isn't my first harvest." Manny tried to step between the two hulking men before they came to blows. 

"Jason, you leave those two men alone. They've got work to get done and it still needs doing as long as you keep them here, badgering at them. We're supposed to be in Niagara Falls next week; you promised. Then we're supposed to go down the coast during the changing of the leaves. We're retired... get used to it!" Her hand was on her hip and her toes were tapping, while she pointed down her husband. "Good morning John." She said in an aside.  

"Ma'am... Wilma." He nodded. "Wilma, could you bring something light for Maggie to eat around eight. She should be done with her morning bout of getting sick. Please stay with her so she doesn't rush. It might help settle her stomach. One of the nurses said keeping some soda crackers around might be helpful too." 

"Okay... I know what to do." Wilma smiled at the tender way he was treating Maggie. 

"Okay boss, what needs done today?" John asked Manny, ignoring Maggie's father. He respected the man, but he didn't put up with bullshit from anyone. 

Three days later, Maggie was ready to scream as he parents pulled out, headed to the north with promises of coming back in the spring. She loved her mother, but if she had to do anymore shopping for the baby, someone was going to get hurt. 

Thinking about that, she knew she had to thank John for the last three days of pampering she had to live through. Even Manny and Wilma had gotten into the act. Wouldn't that man get it through his thick head that she wasn't some kind of wilting Lilly or the first woman to ever get pregnant? 

She sighed as her stomach grumbled and she nibbled on a cracker. 'Why the hell do they call it morning sickness, when I'm still sick at night?' She griped to herself as she headed to the bathroom just in case the stale offering didn't appease the child, who had seized control of her system. 

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



Something was eating at John, and he didn't know what it was. He couldn't put his finger on it, but he knew something was wrong. The more he thought about it, the farther it was for him to grasp. At first he put it down to worry over Maggie. Nope, that wasn't it. Next he just thought he was working too hard or something was wrong with the farm. Still it eluded him.

He was having dreams. He knew they were dreams. But for the life of him he couldn't remember what he was dreaming about. It had been about a month after the baby was born, and life had gotten back to semi-normal. They were mid harvest and he was working every hour he could to help get things done. 

Maggie felt him start to flail in his sleep again. She tried to sooth him but for some reason it wasn't helping. She tried to understand what he was saying, but it was just coming out in a jumble. She knew he was still asleep even with his eyes open. He had a handful of her hair and was starting to call out.

"Answer the question. I need an answer." He demanded in his sleep. 

"What question love?" She asked confused. 

"Just answer the damn question. Answer me." He demanded, getting irritated.

"Um, red... blue... twenty seven...?" She started tossing out random answers as he got more agitated. 

"GODMIT ANSWER ME? ANSWER THE FUCKING QUESTION!!!" He shouted.

"I don't know the question. How can I answer you?" She reached out and held his face. "Babe... It's okay. I'm right here, but I can't answer the question." 

She felt the jerk rip through his body. "What... huh? What's wrong babe?" He asked concerned. 

"I don't know the question love. If I knew...." She saw that he had fallen back asleep and sighed. She wanted to hit him as he cuddled her and started rubbing her nipples in his sleep. The next morning, she was even more frustrated. John had no memory of what she was saying. He just gave her a blank look as she tried to go over the events. 

"I don't know babe. It isn't anything from my past. I don't know what to tell you. I'm sorry if I kept you awake." He kissed her and hugged her while rubbing her back and butt. 

"You're lucky that I love you. You can be the most frustrating man on the face of the earth." She huffed and melted into his embrace. 

The harvest was almost over and Maggie knew it was time to start thinking about converting one of the room's upstairs back into a nursery for their baby. She wondered if John knew how to do drywall work. 

She remembered there was a doorway hidden in the wall between their room and her office. She could move her office then start working on fixing up the rooms before she got too big to want to move. She knew the fall and winters were slow times on the farm and it would give her something to do other than count calves. She wondered if she should go out and ask John what he thought since he was working in the yard on an old busted bailer. 

John was glad for something to do in the yard. He knew he wasn't any good at bringing in the harvest and felt useless in the fields as even the children out paced him. Fixing stuff, now that was something he could do and it kept him close to Maggie.

"Come on you rusted piece of shit!" He griped at the stuck bolt. "Where's my bigger hammer. I'll show you who the boss is. Ouch, you cum sucking slut. I'll make you pay for that." He sat up and sucked his scraped knuckle. 

"How's it going?" Manny asked with laughter in his eyes. "I don't know why you're bothering. That thing hasn't worked in years."

"Cheaper to fix it than buy a new one. Besides I like a challenge and this bucket of bolts has met its match." He stood up.

"You've got some mail. Good luck with that." Manny laughed and walked away.

John flipped the fancy envelope and wondered who was getting married. He knew someone from home sent it. It had his parent's address on it. Shrugging, he opened it with his knife and started reading.

Seconds later, he wanted to kill someone. "What the fuck did I ever do to them to deserve this shit?" He asked the air. He was done. It was time to face down his family. 

Putting action to thought, he stomped into the bunk house and gathered up the stuff he left there when he moved into Maggie's bedroom. He shoved a few things into his duffle. He knew he was too mad to say goodbye, so he scribbled a quick note on the back of the invitation's envelope.

"Maggie, I have to go home. Sorry; I love you, John." He went out and found one of the hands to drive him to the bus depot. Before he left, he gave the note to Wilma and said to give it to Maggie at dinner. Ten minutes later he was driving off the farm and headed back home to confront some of his demons.

Back in the kitchen, Wilma read the note and paled. She wondered when he was going to run. She knew from her research that he would. How was she going to tell Maggie, and with the baby coming?

"What's wrong Mina?" Manny asked as he walked in.

"See, I told you so." She showed Manny the note. "He's running home. I tried to warn you. What are we going to do?" She was angry and sad at the same time.

"It is not what you think. John was in a good mood when I gave him that letter. There must be something bad happening at home that he couldn't wait. He'll be back. Mark my words and then you'll owe him such an apology." Manny told his wife. 

"What about Maggie, and the baby? What do we tell her? This is going to kill her." She said looking up at her dense husband.

"We tell her that there was an emergency and John had to rush home and give her his note. You see he says he loves her." He pointed at the note. 

"No, it says he's sorry he loves her." She debated the point. 

"Manny, have you got her pregnant again?" Maggie barked out. "You two are squabbling like a couple of guinea-hens over scratch. The last time I saw that, she was pregnant with Juan." 

"Oh, I'm so sorry Miss Maggie." Wilma shoved the note into Manny's hands and fled crying. 

"What's wrong with her? Have you seen John? I wanted to ask his opinion on something." Maggie watched the crying woman run into the kitchen and slam the door.

"Sorry Mag's, but John had an emergency. He had to rush home. He left a note. It is from his family. I gave it to him a little bit ago." He handed her the note and watched her slam into depression.

"I see. And he couldn't say goodbye?" The tears were starting to flow. She knew what Wilma thought was going to happen. She didn't believe it but here it was. "I'll be in my office if anyone really needs me." 

"Maggie, he does love you. He said so in his note." Manny didn't try and convince her more. He knew they would all be eating crow when he came back. He trusted John and knew he wouldn't fail them. 

Maggie went into her room and collapsed crying into her pillow. She didn't know how she was going to cope with being a single mother. Would she hate their child, because the father ran off like a coward? Damn these surging hormones anyway.

Maggie walked around like a ghost for two days feeling sorry for herself. Then she felt a flutter in her abdomen, and that changed everything. 

Now, she was pissed. She'd have an explanation from that oaf, or his balls on her wall as a decoration. She griped, yelled and screamed as she threw the brand new maternity clothes, she had to start wearing because their child needed more room, into an overnight bag. 

"Leave me in the middle of a harvest to run home to mommy. What about our children? They need a father. You got some explaining to do buster, when I get my hands on you, you'll be sorry." She threw her bag, a box of saltines and a cooler of juice into the front of her truck. 

"Maggie, where are you going?" Manny asked stunned.

"I'm going to go get him back or kill him. I haven't decided yet." She slammed the door. "Get the last of the beans and the last cull of the barley in for me. I'll be back!" She shoved the truck into drive and left in a cloud of dust. Pinned to her dash was the address and map to get to the object of her ire.

After three days on the cramped bus, John needed sleep before he faced off with his family. He knew that they would all meet for dinner. They always did on Saturdays. It was just the place to face them all down. If he faced them without sleep, someone would die and he couldn't go home and ask Maggie to marry him. 

It took Maggie a day and a half of straight driving to get to Portland Oregon. She stopped at a hotel and slept before the last hour of driving. During her trip, she only stopped for potty breaks and to get something to eat. She was running on adrenaline and it had run out. 

All during the trip, she tried to figure out if John loved her and was sorry he had to leave, or sorry that he loved her and left. She woke up at four, and started the last leg of her trip.

John was standing at the foot of the table and staring down his family. "What the hell did I ever do to make you hate me like you do?" He asked them.

"We don't...." His mother tried to answer.

"Then why the fuck did you send me this?" He pulled out the invitation. "It wasn't bad enough that you supported them while they cheated on me? You have to send a fucking invitation to their baby shower?"

"I didn't send that!" His mother turned pale.

"John, Jan is your brother and Tabitha is your sister. You should be happy for them." His brother Jimmy said in a snide voice.

"She was my wife when they started fucking and he knocked her up the first time."

"What do you expect? She's been in love with him since first grade. It wasn't her fault you decided to leave her all alone and go blow up the sand." Jeremy added.

"I didn't have a fucking choice. I was in the military. You don't get a choice and don't even dare bring up politics. This is about my fucking family stabbing me in the back."

"If it wasn't him, it would have been some else. At least she's still family."

"And I'm not?" 

"I'd never leave my sexy wife to do something stupid and useless." Jimmy spat out.

"I've noticed not a one of you have answered my original question. What did I ever do to you to deserve this shit?" He stared them down.

Maggie was standing at the door and heard John yelling. She felt a chill go down her spine as she heard him yell.

"Well, answer the fucking question. Who said it was okay for them to screw around behind my back in my own home? Who said they were right to break my marriage up just because they could keep their cheating hands off each other. What did I do so bad that you allowed it, and supported them while I was watching my friends die? Where is the family loyalty? Fucking answer me! Then to send me this, to rub my face in it. Who do I get to thank for that? Come on; FUCKING ANSWER ME!" 

"Shit...!" Maggie said to herself. She never knew that PTSD could work both ways through time. She remembered the night a few days before he left. She also knew that someone's life was in danger if John didn't regain control.

"If you were here to take care of business, it would've never happened." An older voice said and Maggie knew she had to act and fast. First she knocked, and then she pounded. She wanted to kill who said that to her lover. Emotions were boiling inside of her and she couldn't make all the changes she needed to.

"WHAT...?" John flung the door open. "Maggie... what are you doing here? I was only going to be gone a week." He said, stunned to see her.

"And how was I to know that?" She asked looking at him as her heart broke for him.

"I left a note...." He said and opened the door to let her in. She looked fuller and rounder but oh so sexy. 

"You mean this note? It was a pit sparse on details; Dear." She took out the note and shoved it at him. "You leave me four months pregnant with a hasty note and I'm not supposed to...?" 

"You're pregnant...? You can't be. I haven't been able to ask you to marry me yet." He looked at her and saw where the extra bump was and was flabbergasted. "Oh my god... you are! When did that happen?" She saw the wide eyed look of astonishment and wanted to laugh 

"About four months ago... probably at the pond. You knew. You had to know." She said confused. "You were there when the doctor told me."

"I thought that she was just giving you advice because you had been so sick." He started pulling her toward a chair. "You need to sit down." 

"I'm fine John. So, what was so important that you had to run off with a lousy note?" She asked resisting his urging to sit down. Her butt was still sore from the drive. "Manny said you got a letter." 

"They sent me this." He showed her the invitation.

"So, you haven't kicked their ass for being stupid yet?" She knew by the card and the shouting, who these people were. 

"Who's that brass bitch and why is she in this house?" Jimmy asked just seconds before he found himself against the wall.

"That's the mother of my children and if you ever...." Maggie saw John's brother's face start to turn blue. 

"John... JOHN! He's not worth it. You have a family to raise and you can't do that from prison." She put her hand on his and looked at him.

"My Angel eyes." He sighed and relaxed his grip. Flicking his brother to the floor he went to Maggie. "Sweetie, you need to sit down and take it easy. No wonder...." He was instantly solicitous. 




In The Arms Of Another



Tony Hammond drummed his fingers lightly on the wooden surface of the kitchen table as he waited. He checked his wrist watch for the third time in the same half hour; it was after midnight now and his apprehension was mounting fast. Earlier, Linda - Tony's wife of just two years - had called to say that she was going out after work and wouldn't be home until late. She hadn't said where she was going or whom she was going with and this simply added fuel to Tony's paranoia. He was convinced that she was having an affair.

Although he had been expecting it for some time, the sound of the front door opening still jolted Tony from deep within his thoughts.

"Is that you, Linda? Where the hell have you been?"

As Linda walked into the room Tony's heart raced as it always did on seeing his young wife. As always, her make-up was perfect; just the right amount applied with great care and precision. Her long overcoat was open revealing a smart designer business suit and black nylons. She pulled the clip that held her blonde hair piled up on her head and shook the tresses free allowing them to fall in a golden cascade around her shoulders.

"Not now, Tony. I'm tired." she sighed, turning to leave the room.

Suddenly, Tony gripped her arm, pulling his wife around sharply towards him.

"Who is he, Linda?" he shouted angrily into her face, "I know you're having an affair, I can see it in your face! Just tell me his fucking name!"

"You want to know a name? You really want to know?" Linda spat back. "Okay, I'll tell you. HIS name is Jennifer!"

For a moment, Tony felt as though he had been hit by a freight train. He slumped down silently onto the chair and gazed uncomprehendingly at his wife.

"Yes, that's right, Tony. I have been cheating on you, but not with any man!"

Linda looked down at her husband, hands on hips, and awaited his response. She could almost see his mind trying to work out what she had just told him.

"Well, if you're just going to sit there with your jaw hanging down, I'm going to bed." she said.

The bedroom was warm and Linda left a trail of clothes across the floor as she disrobed on the way to the shower room. After her usual bed-time preparations and a quick shower, she slipped gratefully between the sheets. Within a few moments she could hear her husband's foot-steps on the stairs and she prepared herself for his arrival.

"I want to know what happened tonight." said Tony as he sat on the edge of the bed. "I want all the details and then I'll decide what to do."

Linda smiled, she had almost expected this. She knew from experience that if there was one thing that was guaranteed to arouse the interest of a man, it was the thought of two women together!

"It started this afternoon at work," she began. "Jennifer and I work in the same office. She had been flirting with me all day and I had started to feel really horny."

"What do you mean, flirting?" Tony interrupted.

"You know, brushing her hand up against my thigh as she passed. Looking at me and licking her lips, that sort of thing. It was all quite subtle, but I knew what she wanted and by the end of the afternoon, I wanted it too! When Jennifer suggested a drink at the end of the day, I'm sure she knew that I wouldn't refuse."

Linda smiled again as she noticed the bulge that had begun to form in the front of her husband's robe. He was starting to become excited as she related her evening's adventure - and, to be honest, as she continued with her tale, she could feel her nipples becoming harder and a moistness begin to develop between her legs.

"I had expected her to take me to a bar somewhere for our drink," Linda continued, "but when she pulled up outside a motel, I realised that drinking beer or wine was the last thing on her mind!

"I watched her as she checked us in. You know I've always liked brown hair on a woman, and Jenny is a tall, striking brunette with a great figure. She took my hand and led me into the room. I was a little nervous but as she closed the door behind us she squeezed my hand a little and smiled warmly at me. She put her lips to my ear and whispered for me not to worry, that she would take good care of me and that everything would be fine. I believed everything that she told me and found myself melting into her arms.

"Very slowly, she tilted my head up towards her. My eyes closed and my lips parted as she kissed me. I felt light, feather-like pecks on my lips and then her soft tongue licking and probing gently into my mouth."

Linda looked over at Tony and saw that his hard penis had now escaped the confines of the robe and was standing firm and proud. She grinned, pleased that her story was having an obvious effect on him.

"Why don't you stroke it a little?" she asked with a lopsided smile, "I know you want to!"

Tony smiled back. All thoughts of jealousy were now vanquished from his mind as he slowly began to toy with his erection. He watched his wife, mesmerised as she let the sheet slip down over her nakedness and revealed her firm, young breasts. The nipples were red and swollen and Tony felt his cock leap further to attention as Linda began to roll the hardened buds between her fingers in a display of pure, unadulterated lust.

"The kiss seemed to last for ever," she began again, "and when we finally broke, I found myself almost gasping for air. I was tingling all over and as Jenny led me gently towards the bed, I have never been so ready for anything in my life!

"I was still trembling as I sat down on the edge of the bed, and Jenny kissed me again to relax me. But this time, her hands began to unbutton my blouse as her tongue probed deeply and urgently into my mouth. I could feel her fingers popping buttons and then cool air on my chest as she exposed my lacy white bra. For a moment she broke the kiss and reached behind me. With expert fingers she released the catch and pulled the garment off and threw it on the carpet with a giggle. Her lips returned to mine and she began to gently massage my hard nipples as she tongued my mouth."

Linda smiled at her husband as she watched him slowly masturbating. She let the sheet fall down further and expose her trimmed, blonde pussy. She licked her finger and slid it effortlessly through the damp folds of her labia, gasping slightly as she felt the exquisite contact with her hard clitoris.

"Mmmmm, would you like me to go on?" she whispered sexily.

"Oh God, yes!" Tony cried. His tool felt so hard in his hand as he played with himself. "Please, tell me more!"

"Well, by this time my nipples felt like they were on fire and Jenny was also starting to breathe a little faster. She suggested that we both strip down to our panties so we could get a good look at each other. I agreed quickly; I was longing to see what she looked like naked!

"We both stood up giggling like a couple of kids and began to take off our clothes. I watched Jenny all the time as she stripped and I gasped when I finally saw her nude for the first time. Her body was absolutely gorgeous! A golden tan coloured her smooth skin. Her legs were long and tapered, her belly flat and her breasts firm and pert. Her red, swollen nipples stood out proudly from her tits and throbbed as I gently touched them.

"Suddenly, Jenny grabbed me and kissed me hard. Much harder than before and we both lost our balance and toppled in a heap onto the bed kissing and fondling each other."

"Our hands roamed each others bodies; touching and teasing with long fingernails. I gasped again as I felt her hands on my panty covered mound and then sighed in relief as she tugging the garment over my bottom and down my legs. 

"I was naked and I wanted Jenny to be the same. Breathlessly I sat up and, looking deep into her eyes I hooked my fingers into the waistband of her thong. The panties rolled off easily over her lithe buttocks and I threw them over my shoulder onto the floor."

"Oh Damn, Linda," moaned Tony as he continued to squeeze and rub the head of his cock, "This is making me so hot!"

Linda could see that he was telling the truth; pre-cum was oozing from the tip and he was smearing the clear liquid over the shiny knob. Her own fingers were busy in her pussy; opening her moist lips and stroking her engorged clitoris vigorously as she continued.

"My pussy was so hot by this time and Jenny seemed instinctively to know this. She started to slowly push me back on the bed. She was in complete control of me and my mind seemed to have no choice but to let her do whatever she wanted. I couldn't have resisted even if I had wanted to! She kneeled down beside me and gently placed her hands on the inside of each of my thighs. Slowly she parted my legs - almost an inch at a time - until she had me completely spread open with my pussy exposed for her inspection.

"I felt her fingers on my wet labia, prising me open, widening me. Her head dipped slowly and I closed my eyes. I could feel her hot breath draw closer and closer as she neared my vagina. I was leaking fluid in torrents now, and I almost screamed when I felt her hot tongue swipe eagerly over my throbbing clit. Again and again she laved my juicy pussy; tasting and drinking my juices and gently nibbling on my clitty as I climbed higher and higher towards my climax."

"I cried out as she tipped me easily over the edge. Her tongue lapped lovingly over my clit while her fingers probed deep into my pussy sending bolts of electric-like excitement coursing through my body. My toes curled involuntarily and my nipples felt like pieces of flint.

"But Jenny was not going to be satisfied with providing just one orgasm. Whilst I was still in the throes of ecstasy, she pulled my legs straight and opened them again whilst she lay between them with her head resting on my mound. I looked down and could see her sticky face smiling up at me with a look of pure lust.

"And then her tongue was back inside me again. I had still not relaxed from my last massive climax and my hips bucked up from the bed as she began to eat me hard and fast. Her tongue probed deep and then swiped the length of my slit for my butt to my clit as I continued to shake and tremble. Her hands were under my buttocks and I could feel her long index finger gently pressing against my tiny asshole. I was almost cumming again and I knew that I wanted to feel her digit probe my back door so I lifted my bottom off the bed to give her better access to me. I gasped as I felt her finger enter me. It felt so tight; so hot; so sexy and I crashed into my second orgasm immediately. 

"As I opened my eyes again I looked down to see that Jenny's butt was high in the air and she had a sexy tattoo imprinted on her buttock."

"But Jennifer still wasn't finished with me and I experienced yet another smaller climax before she finally arose from between my trembling thighs with a broad smile on her face. I didn't know if I should thank her or kiss her, but as she slowly lay back on the bed and let her long, tanned legs fall open, I knew what she wanted. I knew how she needed to be thanked!

"I have never tasted a woman before - down there - I know that I fooled around a bit at college and that we were all girls together in the dorm at night, but apart from some kissing and a little fingering, I was still quite inexperienced. But I was determined to learn tonight. Taking a deep breath and inhaling Jennifer's heady, sweet aroma, I lowered myself between her spread legs. Jenny's hands went straight to her breasts and she squeezed them hard, teasing the turgid nipples and moaning loudly as I pushed out my tongue carefully and tickled the tip of her large clitty. 

"Her hand left her breast for a moment and I felt it pressing the back of my head. I knew that she wanted me to enjoy her taste and I obliged willingly. With my nose pressed up against her shaved mound I began to tongue-fuck her instinctively. I really had no idea of what I was doing other than it felt good to me and, by the way that Jenny was moaning and kicking her legs up and down, it must also have felt good to her too.

"I wanted to do the same for her; give her as much pleasure as she had given me, so wetting my finger in her dripping pussy, I pressed it up against her asshole. I have never seen anyone react the way that Jennifer did then. Her whole body tensed and trembled and she cried out so loudly that the people in the next room must have wondered if there was somebody being murdered!

"Her juices flooded my face as she climaxed hard, her muscular thighs gripping my head tightly as I continued to finger-fuck her butt and eat her pussy. Her climax seemed to last for ever and she told me later that she had actually cum three times but that the orgasms were all sort of joined together in one big cum!"

Linda gasped as her fingers flashed in and out of her gaping pussy. She was still looking at Tony as he masturbated; rubbing one hand up and down his shaft whilst cupping his heavy balls with the other.

"Come to me now, darling!" she cooed

She didn't have to wait. 

Tony practically leapt onto the bed and dived between her open legs. He sighed deeply as he felt his throbbing manhood slide effortlessly into his wife's soaked pussy and began to pump away frantically. 

Within a few minutes Linda felt her husband's sperm explode up into her vagina. She wrapped her legs tightly around him and whispered into his ear, encouraging him to empty himself completely within her.

When he eventually rolled away from her exhausted and sated body, Linda smiled to herself and wondered what her husband would think if she every actually DID have an affair with another woman rather than just using her very vivid imagination! 

Perhaps, one day, she might actually go through with it, she thought. She guessed as long as she related her experiences to him later, that Tony wouldn't mind at all and, besides, it would probably beat all these visits to her mother that she had been making whilst she was supposed to be in the arms of another!

The End 



In the Arms of Fenris



This story takes a bit of time to build. Give it time to set the scene, and I think you will enjoy it.

*

Marty never thought about them really. Werewolves that is. Never figured they would be a reality or an issue. Granted, she use to think that they were fairy tale monsters and characters for fright movies. Ranked them right up there with witches, ghosts and vampires. She ought to have known better. You can't have whole genres of literature without a little bit of fact hiding somewhere. Never thought she'd ever meet one, let alone date one.

Marty met Graydon at a party. A 'bring a friend and a bottle' type. One of those parties where the real objective is to get laid. She didn't have a friend, but she had a lovely bottle of brandy. Marty never dressed up. There wasn't even a dress in her closet anymore. They were just impractical in her life. So, Marty wore her usual jeans, flannel shirt and moccasins expecting to be comfy and drunk by the end of the evening. 

She walked in and found Jessie doing her best to be the hostess, which is really funny. Jessie loves people and parties and is hopeless at organization. She was trying to get everything out and as usual had botched it. Marty smiled, stuffed her coat in a corner and started to straighten out the table of glasses and paper plates.

"Thank goodness someone knows where I keep things!" Jessie said.

"Yeah, and good thing you throw parties where I can practice these skills." Marty smiled as she plunked the last of the plasticware into a large cup.

Jessie looked Marty over and just shook her head. "Glad you had time to shower before you came over."

"Hey! I do my best not to smell like my charges. It's just difficult sometimes when I'm in a hurry," she said trying to defend her damp hair and general sloppy appearance. Marty worked at a fancy kennel and stable outside of town. Lots of big dogs and horses. 

"She still hasn't forgiven you for the time you brought the Great Dane to that picnic," said Dirk as he came out of the kitchen with a tray of cheese, crackers and sliced meats. Dirk was Jessie's lover. One of those tall, dark and handsome types that walks right by Marty like she was invisible. Jessie is blonde and thin. They make a beautiful couple. 

"Well,... I couldn't help it. And he was well behaved right up until he ate that potato salad." Even though it was the truth, it sounded so lame. The dog loved Marty and had escaped the dog run at work and followed her. "I was at the park by then and had figured it would just be easier to wait for Nick, our vet, to come pick him up. Silly me."

"It's okay Marty. I just had to tease you," Dirk smiled. 

Everyone else leaves their jobs at the office and Marty's has the darnedest way of following her everywhere. She pulled her hair back again into a scrunchy. Damp brown curls that had a mind of their own were doing their best to escape. She keep threatening to chop them short, but never had the time or the guts to do it. Plus, she hadn't graced the inside of a beauty parlor since she was five years old.

Marty got the last of the foodstuffs from Jessie and had just set them on the table when the door bell rang. Dirk got it and she didn't notice who came in. 

"Graydon, I'd like you to meet Marty," Dirk said as he tapped her on the shoulder to get Marty's attention. She turned around to see a man with dark hair, slim muscular build and broad shoulders. Most of the crowd are desk jockeys and cubicle rats, so to see someone so physically fit was a change.

"Um... Hello, I'm Marty," she said as she held out her hand. 

He took her hand and gave it a firm shake. "Graydon Roche. Nice to meet you." 

Marty smiled and then suddenly felt set up. She looked over to Jessie who was smiling. Marty was being set up! Well, she wasn't going to play this game no matter how nice this guy was. She had her mind set on just getting drunk tonight. Horses and dogs are so much safer. "Excuse me a minute, I need to talk to Jessie."

"No problem, where do you want this?" Graydon asked. He had a bottle of red wine in his hands. Marty took it and placed it on the table where other bottles had been left earlier.

"Jessie, can I speak to you in the kitchen?" Marty moved towards her, put her hands on Jessie's shoulders and pushed her into the small kitchen before she could protest.

"Just what do you think you're doing?" Marty asked.

"I was trying to find you a date! Or don't you care if you ever get laid?" Jessie asked.

"Well, of course sex is important, but I'd kind of like to find my own guy. I don't even know this man!"

"No, but you know everyone else who usually comes to our parties and I thought a bit of new blood might actually interest you. You've picked over and turned down most of the guys. The ones you've actually taken to bed could be counted on one hand. So what's wrong with Graydon?"

"I don't know him!" she hissed.

"No, but you could get to know him. Talk to him. Give it a chance. Worse that could happen is that you could bore him to death with talk about horses and dogs," Jessie finished with her hands on her hips. She was getting pissed at Marty. 

"You... you... oh! Okay, where did you find him?" she asked, trying to calm down and not walk straight out the door.

"He works in Dirk's office. New guy, transferred in from Idaho or Montana. Been there about a week, and Dirk likes him. Says he really knows his stuff. Has a brain and all that," Jessie was trying to calm down too. She was running her hand through her hair. "So, I had Dirk ask him to the party. He doesn't have any expectations. So relax. Just have a good time okay?"

"Fine. I just don't like having dates found for me. Let me do my own hunting, okay?" 

"Okay," Jessie said as she ran her fingers through her hair again and then left the kitchen. 

There was only one door and Marty looked around to grab something that might need taken out. She saw the salt and pepper shakers, and grabbed them. The last think she wanted to do at the moment was talk to Graydon. Marty put the shakers on the table, grabbed a glass of brandy and started to head out to the back yard where most of the guests were mingling. No Dirk or Graydon in sight. She found a bench under the back trellis and curled up on it. 

People were bringing in more food and Jessie was beginning to fret again. Marty just sat and ignored her. She could just stew for a bit. Marty was still not feeling very party friendly, but the brandy was helping. Somewhere between the kitchen and the bench, She'd lost her scrunchy and her hair was doing it's best to take off on it's own in every direction except down. One curl kept falling right between her eyebrows. Marty tried tucking it behind her ears and it wasn't working. Her glass was empty, and the food was beginning to smell good. Marty left the bench and ventured forth for provisions. 

When she returned with a full plate of food and more brandy, Marty found her bench occupied by two giggly blondes and a couple of guys from Jessie's office. She turned to try and find a new place to sit out of the way and almost ran face first into Graydon who had a plate in his hands.

"Oh! Sorry."

"No problem. I didn't mean to startle you either. Is there some place we can sit and talk?" he asked.

Although it was the last thing she wanted to do, Marty didn't feel she had much choice at that point. Marty looked around and saw that the compost bin had a decent sized lid on it and pointed in its direction. 

"I think we can sit over there if you don't mind grass cuttings and apple peelings," she said.

"No, I don't mind. It looks like a table to me." He moved to set his stuff down and then took her plate as well while she settled down on top. 

"Thanks."

"You're welcome. Marty, I wanted to apologize about earlier," he started.

Marty took a deep breath. Jessie must have ratted her out. "It's okay. I just have a bit of a temper, and I'm tired of people trying to set me up with dates." Marty took a drink of brandy and then picked up her plate. 

"I understand. I'm the 'new guy' and everyone is trying to match me up too."

"Hadn't thought about it that way. Frustrating isn't it?" She took a bite of a burger.

"Yes. Almost as much as getting all the shitty jobs so that you can prove you know your stuff."

"What?" Marty asked around the half chewed mouthful. 

"I don't know where you work, but when you are the new guy in the tech pool, you get all the stupid routine jobs just so that everyone can see if your resume really represents you," Graydon said. 

Marty laughed. "All my jobs are 'shitty jobs' and it doesn't matter if you're the boss or the newest person there."

"What? Where do you work?" Graydon had a puzzled look on his face. He obviously thought that she worked in a cubicle like most of the people here. Dirk worked in the computer industry with a huge telecom/Internet company. 

"I work at Greenwold Acres. It's a boarding kennel and stable," she said with a smile. As Marty took a drink, that unruly curl pulled free of her ear and plopped back between her eyebrows.

He laughed. Marty wasn't sure if he was laughing at her choice of work or that curl. Marty didn't care, because his laugh was infectious. She laughed too. "You really do have the shit jobs. I didn't think that any of this crowd knew anyone who actually worked outside of an office."

"That's me. Marty the oddball." She blew air up at the curl to try and move it off her face. It didn't work.

"I don't think you're so odd," he said as he reached forward to take the curl in his fingers. Graydon tucked it behind her left ear. His fingers were warm as they touched the curve of her ear.

Marty smiled. "It's okay, I'm use to being the odd one out, especially at Jessie's parties."

"Then why do you come?"

"We've known each other since high school. We use to have a lot more in common," Marty started to add something and then just let it go. She didn't need to vent her frustrations on a guy she'd just met.

"Ah, that would explain a lot. Is that why you were determined to get drunk this evening?" he asked as he pointed to her glass.

"Guilty as charged. Most people come here to find someone to screw around with if they don't have a partner. I just come for a bit of company that doesn't bark or neigh and to end up sleeping on Jessie's couch for the night," Marty said as she picked at the food on her plate and ate a bite of salad.

Graydon sat there for a minute while he ate some of his burger. Marty could tell he was trying to figure something out, but wasn't sure where he was going. She looked up towards the house and noticed that someone had turned on the stereo and people were dancing.

"How would you feel about leaving a bit early?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" Marty looked at him, trying to figure him out.

"You don't want to be here. I don't want to be here. However, I'm new in town and don't know where else to spend a Saturday evening. How about you show me around. No strings, just friendly companionship." 

"Yeah, but Jessie will see us leave and figure we've done exactly what she hoped for. Then I'll never live it down," Marty said in frustration.

Graydon looked around. The party had forgotten this end of the yard existed. He looked at the back fence and then turned back to Marty.

"Care to climb over the fence?"

"What? No. Besides, my coat is in the house, along with my car keys."

"Hmm... Well then. You go through the house and I'll go over the fence. What are you driving?" he asked.

"A Volvo. Why?"

"I don't have a car yet. I caught a cab over here," Graydon explained.

"Oh. Blue Volvo sedan. 240 series. I'll see you there in a few minutes," she said as she stood up and headed towards the back door. She left her plate of half eaten food on the compost bin. Rather ironic she thought.

Graydon watched Marty walk up the yard, and as she moved through the dancers, he hopped the fence. Trotting down the alley he was out onto the side street and rounding the corner before Marty had a chance to walk through the house. Graydon liked her and figured it might be easier to get to know her away from the party. He never did like crowds. Too many pretentious people. She was the first person he'd met in weeks that seemed real. Most of the women around the office reminded him of fashion dolls. All plastic, makeup and idiotic clothes. Marty had a personality that interested him. 

Inside the house, Marty almost made it out the door when Dirk walked up to her.

"Where you off to Marty?" he asked. 

"I'm going home. Just don't feel in the party mood. Tell Jessie I'll come by and help her clean up tomorrow," she yawned to try and make her excuse convincing.

"You two had a bit of a spat earlier. Everything okay?"

"Yeah, I'm just tired." Marty reached up and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Give her my love and I'll see you tomorrow."

"Okay. Bye Marty," he said as he held the door.

Marty ran down the steps and headed towards her Volvo. She almost hoped that Graydon had changed his mind and she could just go home. However, there he was, sitting on the hood of her car, arms wrapped around his knees. 

"What took you so long?" he asked.

"Dirk stopped me at the door and I had to give an excuse."

"Okay."

Marty fumbled the keys as she tried to unlock the door. She realized that she should have eaten more. The brandy was hitting her way too fast.

"Are you going to be okay to drive?" Graydon asked with a tinge of concern in his voice.

She looked at him, a bit annoyed that he had noticed her being a klutz with the keys. Then she thought about it. "No, I'm probably not okay to drive. Too much brandy and not enough food. Can you drive?" she asked.

"Yes. I didn't have any alcohol."

"Then you drive and I'll give directions," Marty said as she tossed him the keys. Marty headed around the front of her car and the wind caught her hair, dumping it in her face. Marty brushed it out of her eyes and realized that he'd been watching. 

"There once was a girl, who had a little curl, right in the middle of her forehead," he started.

"And when she was good, she was very very good, and I think that I'll just be horrid," Marty finished out the rhyme.

Graydon smiled and got in behind the wheel. She was feisty and that intrigued him. The car started up for him on the first turn of the key. 

Great, she thought. The car liked him. Marty got in and buckled up. 

"So, where do you want to go first?" she asked. Marty was racking her brain for places to take this guy she hardly knew. Where do you take a geek on a date? 

"How about someplace to eat?"

Marty looked at him like he had two heads. "What? We just left a party with enough food for thirty and you want more?"

"I didn't eat much, and neither did you. Where to?" He was stopped at a corner waiting for her to give him directions. 

"Fast food or a sit down place?" Marty asked. She didn't have many choices to offer as she usually ate at the same place all the time. Marty just hoped he wasn't too picky.

"Sit down food, but nothing fancy."

"Okay, turn right and take a left at the first light." 

Graydon turned and realized that the first light was probably a mile off. They were heading out of town as far as he could tell. He turned at the light and slowed down, waiting for her to speak.

Marty was thinking too hard about how he must have read her mind and spaced out until he slowed way down. It suddenly dawned on her that he didn't know where he was going. "Oh! Sorry. We have about two miles before we get to the Dirty Spoon." Marty felt herself turning red. 

"The Dirty Spoon?" It was his turn to give her weird looks. 

"Yes. It's really called that. It's a Mom & Pop diner that serves good food. They have a warped sense of humor, so be prepared. Oh. Turn left here." She'd almost missed the turn because she was too busy talking and looking at Graydon. Gotta slow down those thoughts.... 

"You weren't joking about the name," he said as he looked at the diner. It had a large spoon for a sign with what one hoped was gravy dripping off of it and the words 'Dirty Spoon' on the handle. 

As they opened the car doors, smells from the kitchen wafted across the parking lot. It made her mouth water and she realized just how hungry she was. They walked up to the entrance and Graydon opened the door for her. Marty saw that the place was packed. Her normal corner was occupied. Vicky, the waitress waved them over to a booth on the far side. 

"Here ya go hon. Haven't seen you in a bit. Been busy with the ponies?" she asked as she put a menu down in front of Graydon. "Gonna have yer usual?" 

"Yes, it's been busy at the stables. The usual would be fine." Marty ate there often enough that they usually had her food ready before she cleared the door. 

"What is your usual?" Graydon asked. "I take it you eat here a lot?"

"Oh yeah. She eats here three or four times a week," Vicky said before Marty could open her mouth.

"The usual is chicken fried steak, mashed potatoes, green beans and gravy. Iced tea to drink," Marty said once she managed to find the words. Why did she feel so odd? Must have been too much brandy. She couldn't be reacting to Graydon. He was nice looking and polite and she had just met him.

"Hmm... That sounds good. I'll have the same," Graydon said as he handed Vicky the menu. 

Vicky smiled and turned towards the kitchen. "Two cluckers covered, with whips and sticks!" she shouted. 

Graydon just looked at her and started to laugh. Marty was turning red in the face, because although she'd warned him that they were odd, it was still embarrassing until you got used to it. Vicky breezed by with iced teas and silverware and was gone again before they could even say thanks. 

"You said they were different. I just didn't expect to warp back into the Fifties. I take it you don't bring Jessie and Dirk down here too often," he said as he looked around. The diner was a Naugahyde, chrome and neon dream. The Henry's had refitted it to look like the diner had when it was first built in the early Fifties.

"Oh no! They love the food, but would never be caught dead in here. It just isn't posh enough. They have been known though to have me pick up food for them and bring it over. Especially breakfast. Ma Henry makes the best biscuits and gravy." Marty dunked her lemon slice into the tea and took a sip. 

"Alright. Next question. Why do you eat here so often? Not the domestic type?" he asked.

"Well, I try to be, but I'm always running late. So, it's easier to stop here and eat and then head to work. And most nights by the time I get done with the horses, I'm too tired to cook. If I don't eat here, I stop at a pizza place near the house. I can cook, just never have the time." As soon as Marty said it, she knew it sounded daft, but it was the truth. "I'm organized at work and around other people, but when I get home, I turn into a grade A space case." 

Graydon just smiled. "We all have to have our down time. When I get home, I park in front of my computer and the next thing I know, my tea is cold and the clock says 2am."

He was about to say something more when Vicky came with their plates. Right behind him was Ma Henry. It said so right on her name tag.

"Well, I guess I owe you a dollar Vicky. I didn't believe you when you said our Marty brought a date in with her," Ma Henry said with a smile.

"He's not a date Ma, just a friend," Marty said trying to salvage what was left of her dignity.

Ma Henry gave Marty that look that said she thought Marty was full of it and then smiled at Graydon. "You just make sure you take care of our Marty. She's a good girl. Best person I ever saw with a dog or horse. Keeps our Kenny every summer while we go on vacation. Wouldn't leave him with anyone else." Ma Henry looked back at the door of the kitchen and let out a whistle that would stop a train. From the kitchen, they could hear the click of nails on the floor. The door bucked and a brindled Great Dane came loping out into the dining room. He saw Marty and woofed. Next thing she knew, he was up in the booth with Marty, dropping his head on top of hers with a sigh.




In the Arms of Fenris



"Kenny, get down," Marty said. His head weighed a ton. Kenny sighed again and settled for putting his head in her lap as he stretched out across the seat. Marty looked over at Graydon and he was laughing. 

"Don't worry Mrs. Henry, I'll be good to Marty. Anyone who can withstand the attentions of wee Kenny deserves my respect." 

Ma Henry smiled at Graydon. "You can call me Ma," she said and turned to go back to the kitchen. 

Vicky set the plates down finally and smiled as she turned to see to the customers at the counter. Kenny lay there quietly knowing Marty was pinned and all his. He knew if he was good that she'd save a bite of steak for him.

"I take it that this is the dog that ruined the picnic Dirk was going on about?" Graydon asked.

"Oh gods! He told you about that?" Marty asked wondering what else Dirk had told him.

"Yes. And about the horses you work with. I actually got a bit more information about tonight than you did. Dirk was covering his bets. Not only was I to be introduced to you, but a gal named Shelly."

"Oh... The office slut. Aren't you the lucky one," Marty said.

"One of those eh? Well, I'm glad I got introduced to you first." Graydon took a bite of his steak and got a look on his face that proved that Ma Henry had just secured another customer for life. "Oh my, this is good." He took another bite and just smiled.

"Told you it was good food. Breakfast is better though," Marty said. "You need an active lifestyle if you eat here often. Otherwise you'll stop fitting through the door. Ma Henry doesn't believe in low calorie anything."

"I understand. This is just wonderful."

Conversation died off while they ate. Marty didn't dare pause too long, because Kenny would pop his head up looking for a bite the moment her fork stopped moving. The first time he did it, Marty thought Graydon was going to choke trying not to laugh. She got down to the last few bites and put the plate over to where Kenny could have his share. He very politely cleaned the plate. Then he looked over at Graydon. 

"Oh no. You don't get any of this," Graydon said. He finished his last bit and then slid the plate with bits of gravy on it over to the dog. Kenny cleaned that plate too. 

As if on cue, Vicky collected the plates and put two pieces of cherry pie in their place. Graydon looked at me with a question on his lips.

"Yes, this is part of the 'usual' too. Do you want ice cream?"

"No, this will do just fine. Will Kenny want any of this?" he asked. 

"No, Kenny doesn't like cherries." Marty took a bite and held it towards the dog. He turned his nose up at it and laid back down across my lap. 

Graydon just smiled and took a bite of his pie. "Kenny, you don't know what you are missing. This is wonderful pie." He took another bite and savored it. "Is this going to cost us an arm and a leg? Or will you just have to babysit Kenny for free the next time they go on vacation?"

"No, it is very reasonable. Otherwise, I couldn't afford to eat here all the time. Just make sure you tip Vicky well. She'd never seat you again if you short tip her." 

"Ah. Thanks for the hint." Graydon finished the last of his pie and looked for Vicky to get the check. She saw him and waved. Graydon looked at Marty with a puzzled look on his face.

"She'll be over in a minute. That guy at the counter is a regular she's been dating. Neither one will commit. I've got a dinner bet on when they will finally go to bed together. Ma says Christmas and I say New Years."

"But that's months from now. How long have they been dating?"

Marty thought about it for a moment. "Two years this April. Vicky's been divorced three or four times, so she's being cautious this time."

Graydon just smiled. He looked over just in time to see Vicky drop a slip of paper on the table. He picked up the ticket and looked from it to Marty and back again. "This says we owe $18.75. Are you sure that's right?" he asked and handed over the ticket.

Marty looked at the ticket and saw nothing wrong with it. "Yes, it's double what I normally pay. Make sure you tip Vicky about $6. Any less and she'll lock the door on you," Marty said. 

"This place is a real find. Thank you. I appreciate you sharing."

"No problem. Here's my share of the bill," she said handing him $10. 

"Put it back in your wallet. This is on me," he said. He put $8 on the table and then went to the cash till to pay for dinner. He looked back to see that Marty still hadn't moved. Kenny was asleep on her lap. He walked back over to the table. "Need some help?"

"No, I just have to get his attention." Marty grabbed Kenny by the ear and gave it a tug. "Off you go Kenny!" she said. Kenny didn't move. She shook his head with no change. 

Graydon bent over and scratched Kenny on the ribs. He sat up so fast that the table shook. He looked at Graydon and then stepped off the bench seat. Kenny took a last look at Marty and then Graydon and walked back through the kitchen door.

Ma Henry had been watching through the hatch. She came up to Graydon. "You must be good with dogs. Normally Kenny would have had your hand for a snack," she said.

"You've got to be joking. He's a sweet dog," Graydon said.

"Kenny is their watch dog and to be honest he doesn't like many men. You've been given a real compliment. I was a bit worried to be honest when we first sat down and he came out. He won't let Dirk come near him, let alone pet him," Marty said. As she said that, Marty wondered if the dog saw something in Graydon she didn't. Maybe she aught to give him a chance before she wrote him off her list of acquaintances.

"Nice to know that someone has a good first impression of me," Graydon said. "Thank you for a wonderful dinner Ma Henry. I will be back. Good night."

"Good night. See you in the morning Marty," Ma Henry said as we headed out the door.

"Probably! Good night."

In the parking lot, Marty was standing on the drivers side when she remembered that she didn't have the keys. She turned towards Graydon to ask him for the keys. He smiled in anticipation of her request, then tossed them across to her. Marty caught them and almost had the door open when her cell phone rang. Marty dug the phone out of her coat pocket and answered it. 

"Yes? Oh, hello Nick. What? Can't you handle it? I just finished having dinner and ... Fine. I'll be there in ten minutes. No, make that thirty. I have someone to take home. No, I'm not telling you who. Just wait for me. I'll be there." Marty closed the phone and stuffed it back into her pocket.

"What's the matter? You didn't sound too happy."

"It's my boss Nick. One of the horses is having a fit and he wants me to come down and see if I can calm him down. Wants me there ten minutes ago," Marty said. Marty was pissed. She wasn't ready to climb into bed with Graydon, but realized she would like to get to know him better. Taking care of Nick's mess wasn't the ending to the evening she had envisaged. 

"Well, I don't mind going with you. We had horses back home, so it isn't like I'm afraid of getting shit on my shoes," he said with a smile on his face. 

"Okay. It will make things easier that I'll be there sooner rather than later. Nick can be a good boss, but he doesn't like this horse and the horse knows it. Thanks."

They got in the car and Marty pulled out into traffic. Heading out, she turned onto the loop road and headed almost back towards Jessie's. She took a road off to one side and drove out into the countryside. Greenwold Acres was located just inside the county line. It was one of the few places that Nick could still have horses and be near enough for the city crowd. They headed up a small valley and just as it seemed it would dead end, the stables loomed in the twilight. Marty parked the car in her spot behind the stables and got out. 

"Graydon, you can stay with the car or come with me as long as you're quiet. This horse doesn't like strangers or dogs," Marty said as she moved towards the lighted stall at the end of the stable block.

"I'll come with you," he said as he followed quietly behind her.

Nick was standing on the outside of the stall while Whiskey was kicking the stall door to bits. The cracking wood noise was growing louder and if they didn't stop him soon, there'd be no door.

"About time you got here. He's been at it for almost an hour," said Nick.

"Then why did you take so long to call me? I brought my friend with me so I'd be here sooner." Marty was pissed. Just because Nick didn't like this horse was no reason to let the horse be injured. She looked into the stall and saw that Whiskey was still clipped to the far wall. That was a bonus as he was a big horse and if he got loose, it would be trouble. "What the hell set him off this time?" she asked over the thudding hooves.

"Sheppard came and picked up his dog. Didn't take it out the kennel area like I asked, but let Max run through the stable. I was just bedding down everyone and had barely left Whiskey's stall when the damn dog started barking. Whiskey took exception to the dog and you see where we've been ever since. Can't get a hold of his owner either," Nick finished.

"You won't get a hold of Cate on a Saturday. She works up at that dude ranch in Clover county. Even if you had, she wouldn't come. Whiskey isn't that important to her," Marty said with disgust. She walked over to the stall opening and tried to get Whiskey's attention. Marty whistled to no affect. The noise level was increasing. Marty couldn't get into the stall either with him pounding the door to splinters. 

"Marty, can you climb into the stall from the next one over?" Graydon asked in a soft voice. Nick and Marty both turned, as they had forgotten Graydon was even there. Nick looked from him to Marty and gave her a puzzled look. "If you can get to his head, maybe you can settle him down," Graydon finished. 

Marty figured she'd better explain quickly. "Nick, this is Graydon, a friend. He and I were having dinner at the Dirty Spoon when you called," she said.

Whiskey kicked the stall hard enough to rattle the whole wall. She looked at the stall and realized that there was room to slide over from the other one. The big question was whether Whiskey would try to pulp her once she was in there. 

Nick held out a hand and the two men shook. "I think that idea that might work. If Whiskey stays hitched, we could open the stall door when you climb over and we might save it," Nick said.

"I agree. Graydon, there is a bin of sweet feed across from you. Would you get a bucket and be ready to hand it to me?" Marty asked. She was frustrated that Nick was more concerned about the stall than the horse.

"Sure." He moved to get the feed while Marty took off her coat and went into the next stall to climb over. Good thing she was small enough to fit. Neither of the men would have managed. Marty saw that Graydon had the bucket and Nick was standing near the door ready to flip the latch. 

"Hello Whiskey, How are you boy? Calm down fella," Marty said to the horse as she slowly moved into the stall. He kicked the door again and the whole area shook. There wasn't much time until there was nothing but splinters. Marty clucked at Whiskey and he finally turned his head towards her. This brought his back hooves against the wall opposite her rather than against the door. It didn't give as much when he kicked and this slowed him down a bit. Marty felt a touch at her shoulder and found Graydon behind her holding out the bucket of sweet feed. Marty took it and brought it around so that it was between Whiskey and herself.

"Hey Whiskey, Want some of this?" she asked as she shook it nearer him. He shied away and then sniffed the bucket again. "Come on big boy, you know you like this." Marty shook the bucket again and held it lower. Whiskey whuffed air just above the bucket which sent the smell of sweet feed into the air. Marty moved it a little lower and tried to keep the rest of herself as far from him as possible. Graydon put his hand over hers that was holding the stall wall. Marty wasn't sure if it was there for comfort or to yank her back if she fell. Marty didn't care. 

Whiskey sniffed the bucket again, and then stopped kicking. He stepped forward and stuck his nose in the bucket. While he was distracted, Nick opened the stall door. There wasn't enough of it left to save. Stepping back, Nick accessed Whiskey's fetlocks. From where Marty was, she could see blood on the stall and some on Whiskey. This wouldn't be a fast clean up. Marty watched Whiskey as he ate the sweet feed. He was calming down, but his withers still twitched as did his ears showing that he was not as calm as he could be. 

"Graydon, let go of my hand. I need to move farther into the stall."

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"Yes. I've got to get my hands on him. You can go help Nick find another door," Marty said as she moved down off the hay rack to the straw below. This put her level with Whiskey's withers and closer to his hooves than she really wanted, but there wasn't any choice. Marty reached up and rubbed his ears. Whiskey brought his head up out of the bucket and blew molasses breath across her face. Marty resisted the urge to wipe her face and kept rubbing his ears and worked down his mane to his withers. She could feel him calming down. Marty grabbed some straw and started rubbing him down. Whiskey turned from the empty bucket back to his hay and started munching. It was Marty's turn to breathe a sigh of relief.

She was still rubbing him down when the men came back. Nick had the vet kit and Graydon a bucket of water and some rags.

"I'll hold his head while you two treat his scratches," Marty said quietly.

"Fine by me. We have a door ready and will replace this one when we have him fixed up," said Nick. Nick moved into the stall and Graydon started to follow when Whiskey pulled up and tensed. His nostrils flared and his eyes went wide again.

"Graydon, back out slowly. He's still nervous," Marty said.

Graydon nodded and set the bucket down and moved out of the stall. He started to remove the old door while they dealt with the horse.

It took twenty minutes to treat Whiskey's scratches and get the door back on. When they were finished, Marty was sweat soaked and smelled of sweet feed. The guys didn't look much better. Whiskey was quietly eating hay like nothing had happened. 

"Thanks for your help Graydon," Marty said as they walked over to the office. 

"Yes, thanks. I really appreciate your help with the door and the horse," said Nick.

"No problem. Hope you plan to charge the dog owner for the door and surgery bill," Graydon said as they reached the office.

"Oh yes, and it wouldn't be the first time. I just wish that Cate was a better owner. She rides Whiskey a couple times a month and that's about it. He needs more attention than we can give him," Nick said as he sat in his chair. 

"You and I both know that will happen about the same time as the next ice age," Marty said bitterly. 

Nick nodded. Graydon gave her that look she'd begun to recognize as an unasked question. 

"Cate got a horse because she works at a dude ranch, and not because she likes horses. Whiskey was a range horse that got attacked by dogs and should have lots of care and handling to bring him all the way back. He doesn't, and that is why he is still such a mess when a dog barks too close to him," Marty explained.

Graydon nodded. "I see."

"Well, you two can head home. I'll call and leave a message for Cate and bill that idiot Sheppard for the damages. Want me to include your dinner in the bill?" Nick asked.

Marty smiled. "Sure. It was $20. He won't even bat an eyelash at the cost."

Graydon looked from Nick to Marty and started to ask a question. She grabbed him by the hand and turned to Nick. "Talk to you in the morning," she said as they went out the door.

When they were clear of the office, Marty stopped and answered Graydon's look. "Sheppard is another guy with too much money and not enough sense. When we don't have his dog, the pound does. He's use to paying out fees for the damage his dog does. So, adding our $20 to the ticket will just be business as usual."

"Still doesn't seem very fair or ethical."

"Probably not, but you haven't dealt with that dog for weeks on end. Max is an Alsatian and mutt mix. He isn't house broken and no amount of training has fixed it. He's spoiled rotten and all we can do is cope with him. Max is one of those dogs that will never be a good pet, and that frustrates me. I like dogs and enjoy working with them. However, Max is a pain in the ass," Marty said as they headed back towards the car. She stopped mid stride. "Since you're here, do you want to see the rest of the place? I might as well bore you to death with it all at once."

"I'd love to see it. And you aren't boring me to death. Who said you would in the first place?" he asked.

"Jessie. It was one of the things she said in the kitchen when I confronted her with setting us up. She doesn't like horses and hates it when Dirk wants to come out here. She still thinks I need to grow up and get a real job," Marty said as they headed towards the kennel. It was across the paddock from the stables. Street lights lit the way. When she opened the door, they were greeted by various howls, barks and baying. It quieted down a bit when the lights flickered on, but a few were determined to let them know that Graydon and Marty had interrupted their night.

There were twelve pens per side and one large run on the back wall. Each kennel had it's own run as well. Marty went down to the dog biscuit barrel and grabbed a handful. She figured that while she was here, she'd give them a treat.

"We only have eight dogs at the moment. One just had a litter and is in the back. Bubbles the poodle. Her owner can't cope with the mess of birth, but won't get her fixed either."

"That's responsible ownership," he commented sarcastically. 

"Yeah, but at least she only lets Bubbles breed with other poodles." Marty didn't think much of the owner, and actually felt sorry for the dog. They came to a stop in front of the maternity pen. Bubbles was a black standard poodle. She came up, took her biscuit, looked at Graydon and then went back to her pups.

They continued around the pens and handed out treats. Some of the dogs were okay with Graydon and others acted like they were spooked. Marty just figured that it was because he was a stranger. They walked past a pen that was trashed. On the slate was a name that explained it all. Max. Graydon looked and just shook his head. 

As they got to the last pen, Ashka started to howl. A deep long noise that Marty had never heard her make. The closer they got, the more Ashka howled. 

"Ashka, what's the matter hon?" Marty tried to reach in to hand her the treat and she backed farther into the kennel. She tried one more time and ended up dropping the treat in her food bowl. Marty shook her head and walked over to Graydon who had walked back over to the door. 

"I've never seen her act like that," she said. "Wonder what's wrong."

Graydon shook his head. "Who knows? Maybe I didn't smell right to her. She didn't make a noise until we passed close to her. What breed is she?" he asked.

"She's a wolf hybrid. The owners transferred from Alaska and they haven't found permanent housing yet. Poor thing. I'll have to check on her in the morning to see if she's okay. Oh, I want to check on Whiskey once more before we go." 

"Alright."

As they walked back from the kennel, Marty could still hear Ashka howling. She hoped Ashka would quiet down soon. Marty left Graydon to go warm up the Volvo while she peeked in on Whiskey. He was asleep in his stall, Fetlocks wrapped and blanket over his back. Marty closed the stable door and headed for the car.

Graydon had started the car and then moved over. Marty climbed in and buckled up. "Where to now?" she asked.




In the Arms of Fenris



He looked at his watch and then at Marty. "It's late and you have to work in the morning. I guess you ought to take me home."

"Yeah." Marty put the car in gear and headed back to town. When they got onto the main road she turned to Graydon. "Where do you live?" 

"Hennisy and Fifth in the apartments on the corner. I can't give you directions from here. Still too new around town," he said apologetically. 

"I know where they are. It's about a fifteen minute drive," she finished and headed off. When they got to the apartments, he pointed to his. It was one of the ground floor single units. Marty pulled up and parked. Now what, she thought? A handshake? Or a good night kiss? She always feel so awkward at this point. Marty got out of the car when Graydon did. They stood for a moment at the front of the car. It was sort of nice to see he felt awkward too.

"Thanks for being such a good sport and coming out with me to the stable. Most men run when they find out I work with animals. Worse yet, that I'm better with dogs than men," she said staring at the ground. Marty scuffed her foot on the cement and realized that her hair had straw in it when that curl fell on her face. Before she could move, Graydon reached out and pulled the straw from Marty's hair and tucked the curl behind her ear again. 

"Thank you for a wonderful dinner and probably the most interesting evening I've had in weeks," he said.

"Um.. You're welcome," she replied, not knowing what to say next.

Graydon held out his hand and Marty took it in hers. Okay, a good night handshake was a start she thought. But that wasn't what happened. He took her hand and pulled Marty slowly in until his arms wrapped around her. They kissed. Kisses come in a variety of flavors. The quick pecks you give elderly relatives, little kids or your friends. Then there are the ones that sweep you off your feet or scramble your braincells. The kiss started out as a sweet peck that slowly became a brain melter. Their lips separated at last and they came up for air. Marty had no idea of how much time had passed. She stepped back, not sure if she wanted to continue the kiss or drag him into his apartment. Her body was screaming go for it, while her mind was putting on the brakes. Graydon must have noticed her hesitation and he slowly let go of Marty. 

"Good night Marty. I'll call you soon," he said and walked to his door. 

"Good night." She turned and got back into her car. She realized that they must have been kissing for some time as the engine was cold and didn't want to start when she turned the key. Marty drove off as quickly as she could once it finally started.

Graydon stepped into his apartment and watched Marty drive off. He closed the apartment door while he thought about Marty. Her lips had tasted so good that he almost hadn't let her go. However, he didn't want to rush. Marty was the nicest and probably the most interesting person he'd met in months. What he didn't want to do was scare her off. He'd had that happen more than once. That dog at the kennel almost gave him away. Poor thing was hollering for help and confused all at the same time. He could hide everything except his scent. As it was, he'd wait a week or two before he called on Marty.

Marty got back to her house and crawled in the shower. Hot to rinse off the horse smell and cold to cool her off. As she washed, her mind kept thinking how Graydon's hands would feel on her. Damn, not even the cold water was helping. No matter how much water ran over her face she couldn't get the feel of Graydon's lips off hers. 

Morning came way too early. Marty was running too late to stop for breakfast and hurried in to see how Whiskey and Ashka were doing. Whiskey was fine, but Ashka was still sulking in the back of her kennel. That afternoon she was still too quiet, so Marty called her owners. Afterwards, she told Nick what they had said. They both thought it odd.

"So, they said the only time she ever acted like that was when there were wolves around?" he asked. 

"Yes. That's what they said. I'll check around the kennel for odd prints, but I haven't seen any feral dogs or coyotes in months. As for wolves, I don't think there are any left in the whole state, let alone this area." Marty grabbed her coat and headed out the door. The afternoon air was brisk, and the ground hard. She walked around the kennel and stables. No tracks that didn't lead right back to known animals. Marty had a mystery on her hands and that bothered her. She let it play over her mind as she headed over to Jessie's to help her clean up after the party.

Ashka's owners picked her up the next afternoon. Life got busy with new animals and old chores. It was almost a week before Marty realized she never gave Graydon her phone number or address. Oh well. If he really wanted to find her, he could always ask Dirk. 

Graydon spent the next few days getting his house set up more to his liking. The apartment was furnished which was a good thing. The only things he'd really brought with him were his clothes, a few books and his computer. He found a car too. It was an older Saab. Still worked well and got good mileage. It gave him the freedom to go where he wanted. That included the Dirty Spoon where he and Kenny were becoming fast friends. 

It had been busy at work, and Graydon figured he'd contact Marty on the weekend. He hadn't seen her at the diner which he'd thought odd at first. Then he realized that his own schedule ran opposite hers. Dirk had been good enough to give him her phone number. It wasn't really necessary though, once he'd gotten a good smell of her. He still had her scrunchy that he'd picked up the night of the party. It was in his pocket. 

On his first night off, he'd gone for a run and found her house without too much effort. Dirk had given him general directions. That and a gentle breeze had him in the right neighborhood within thirty minutes. He knew he had the right place when he found the Volvo parked out front. Graydon had marked the spot and then gone home. There had been no lights on in the house and he had guessed she was asleep. He'd also gone out to the stables a time or two. He'd gone when there was no one around, and he had been careful not to upset any of the horses or dogs.

Sitting at his computer emailing a cousin, Graydon realized he was hungry. He looked in the fridge even though he was pretty certain that the only things in there were butter, milk and a few eggs. Not enough to slake the empty feeling in his stomach. Looking up at the clock, he realized it was only 8:15pm. The Dirty Spoon would still be serving for at least another hour. Graydon grabbed his jacket and headed for his car. 

When he got to the diner, he was surprised to find that the dinner crowd was still present. Vicky gave him the back booth that he'd shared with Marty the first night. She didn't bother with a menu for him, but brought a glass of iced tea and his silverware. She smiled at him and chit chatted for a few minutes. Kenny peered around the corner and when he saw Graydon, he bounded to the booth and took over the opposite bench. 

"Hello Kenny. How's life? Lots of left overs tonight?" Graydon asked the dog. Kenny just cocked his head at the sound of his voice and then lay down. He knew he'd get some bites of food from the man. If not, the kitchen was close by with his bowl. 

Vicky brought Graydon his steak, biscuits and gravy a few moments later. He thanked her and began to eat. He heard the diner door open and Vicky exclaim "Oh you look exhausted" about the same time Marty's scent hit his nose. He turned in his booth to get a visual lock on her. Vicky was right. She did look worn out. He stood up and started towards Marty only to realize that Vicky was bringing her his way. Marty wasn't even watching where Vicky was going and was surprised when Graydon suddenly appeared before her.

"Oh! Graydon! I didn't expect to see you here," she said in a tired but surprised voice. 

Vicky shooed Kenny off the bench and literally seated Marty at the same time she took her coat. "I'll be back with your dinner in a minute," she said and disappeared into the kitchen.

Graydon sat down, moved his plate aside and took her hand in both of his. She not only looked tired, she smelled tired. What on earth had she been doing?

"Marty, what have you been up to? You look worn out," he said with concern in his voice. 

"I have been chasing horses for the last six hours. Max, remember Max? He got out of his kennel and ran straight to the barn. Whiskey was in the corral and went nuts. In the panic that followed, five other horses got out. We had kids there, half the staff and one or two other owners all trying to catch Max or one of the horses. Whiskey was actually the easiest because he was in the corral. I just shut the gate and decided the fence would hold till later. Max got kicked by one of the horses and Nick had to do some patch up work. We can't get a hold of the Sheppard's to let them know either," she stopped to take a sip of tea and catch her breath a bit. "The worst one was Kimmy, an old stock show horse. When she broke loose, she just went. I grabbed my saddle and tossed it on Butters and headed out. Have you ever dealt with a ranch-trained cow pony?" she asked.

"Oh yes. Had one as a kid. Best horse in the world as long as no one else tried to ride her." Graydon was still holding Marty's hand. He put it down as Vicky came up with her dinner. Vicky had decided that she needed a steak and French fries with brown gravy and peas on the side. Marty thanked her and started eating without even looking at the food. 

"Kimmy loves to run. Still thinks she is running the cattle. So, it took every trick I knew to slow her down long enough to catch her halter." Marty stopped long enough to chew a bite of steak. "God this is good. I am so hungry."

Graydon remembered his own plate and decided he'd better eat before Ma Henry glared at him again from the kitchen hatch. He could hear Kenny whining on the other side of the door. Apparently, the Henry's decided that Marty had had enough of animals for a bit. Maybe they'd let him out for dessert.

"It took me an hour to get back to the stable. Then I had to rub down both Butters and Kimmy and then finish the general clean up. I still have the fence to repair in the morning. Oh, and Nick decided that I get to tell the Sheppard's that they can't bring Max back until he's passed some sort of obedience training or has a major attitude change. What I am afraid of is that the Sheppard's will just have Max put to sleep." She picked up her fork and ate some more of her dinner.

Graydon was trying to decide what to say that didn't sound condescending when Kenny broke through the kitchen door and made a beeline to their booth. He didn't bark, but the slobbering kisses were distracting enough.

"Kenny! Get down. Down boy," Marty was saying. Marty tried to get him to sit or lay down and it wasn't working. Graydon tried and he too was failing. Finally, he gave up and a low growl rose out of his throat that was barely audible over Marty and Kenny. Marty didn't hear it, but Kenny did. The dog sat down so fast that Marty pitched forward and bumped her forehead on Kenny's. She sat up rubbing her forehead.

"Wow! Guess he was concerned about you too," Graydon said to cover up any chance that she had heard the growl. Kenny was still watching him and hadn't moved.

"Yeah. Just what I need at the moment. An over-exuberant dog the size of a horse," she said as she patted him on the head and then gave Kenny a bite of her dinner. Kenny looked to Graydon before he took the bite. Graydon nodded and Kenny licked her fingers clean. 

Graydon hadn't wanted to do that, but there wasn't any choice. Hopefully there was enough confusion and Marty was too tired to notice. Kenny would certainly be obedient for a while. Graydon finished his dinner and had given his plate to Kenny when Vicky appeared with dessert. Cherry pie for him and an ice cream sundae with extra hot fudge, nuts and whipped cream for Marty. 

Marty managed to smile and took the dessert. She ate one last bite of steak and put the plate in front of Kenny. He finished off her dinner before she had gotten past the first layer of whipped cream. She was slowly melting into place on the bench across from Graydon. He could feel her finally relax. He finished his pie and signaled Vicky for the ticket.

She brought it over and he looked at it twice before he realized that they hadn't given him Marty's bill. "I'll be right back Marty," he said and walked over to the register. 

Vicky saw him coming and smiled. "Honey, just go back to the table. You read that bill right. I'll come by for your money in a bit. Just go take care of that girl," she said.

Graydon sat back down. He pulled $8.50 out and a $5 tip for Vicky. By this point, Marty was trying to figure out what was going on. She got her wallet out and Graydon just shook his head. "Kenny bought your dinner tonight Marty," he said softly. 

"Oh. They didn't have to do that," she said.

"No, but they think a lot of you and it's their way of helping you out when they can. Especially when they see you come in as tired as you did tonight," he explained.

"I know. They are so sweet," she yawned. "I'm so tired that I'm not sure I can drive home."

Graydon nodded. He had been trying to figure out how to get her home without her driving. "How about I drive you home? I'll pick you up in the morning and we can come back and get your car then," he suggested.

Marty looked at him for a moment and then nodded. She was too tired to care.

Graydon got her into the car and made sure she had her safety belt on. He started to drive off and then remembered that she hadn't told him where to go. "Marty, how do I get to your house?"

She blinked at him and then realized what he was asking. "Down two blocks, left at the light, four miles down Race to Stevenson. Left on Stevenson. Number 465. Brown house, blue roof," she said, almost falling asleep. 

Graydon started off and was going to continue to ask directions when he realized she was asleep. He drove straight to her house and parked where the Volvo had been the time he had visited. 

"Marty, wake up. Is this your house?" he asked.

She yawned, stretched as best she could and looked out the window. "Yeah."

"Do you have your keys?" Graydon asked, hoping she hadn't left them in the Volvo.

Marty nodded. She pulled a set of keys out of her pocket and held up a skeleton key. "Old key for an old house," she said as she got out of the car with a bit of help from Graydon.

They went up the steps and he opened the door. It was a Craftsman bungalow, something he hadn't noticed that night he had followed her scent. The door was heavy and led into a wood-floored entry hall that opened into a large living room. There was wood flooring and paneling everywhere Graydon looked. There was also enough general chaos to let him know that he really was in Marty's house. A saddle was hooked over the staircase railing and various bits of horse tack and dog harnesses hung where coats should have. Graydon closed the door behind him and then turned back to Marty.

"Marty, where is your bedroom? You need to shower and get to bed," he said quietly. 

She looked at him, trying to figure out if she was missing something and decided she was too tired to think. "It's upstairs," Marty said pointing. 

Graydon started heading her upstairs and when they got to the top, she veered left. He kept her going until she was at the bathroom doorway across from the bedroom door.

"Marty, take a shower. I'll be downstairs. If you need help, holler," Graydon turned and went downstairs. He could hear her dropping clothes on the floor and the water starting. His nose told him that she used some apple scented shampoo. She also used a fruit scented body wash. When he heard the shower go off, he went into her kitchen and found stuff to make a cup of tea. There was only one cup in the sink and a package of herbal tea next to the stove. He didn't see any honey or sugar bowl, so he guessed she took it straight. The house was cold, and he looked around to see if he could turn on the heat. Graydon gave up and grabbed her teacup. When he got to the bottom of the stairs, he hollered that he was on his way up. Marty said something, but it didn't make any sense. When he got to the top of the stairs, he called again.

"I'm in bed, it's okay to come up," she called sleepily.

"I brought you a cup of tea. Hope it's to your liking." Graydon found her in bed in an over sized plaid flannel shirt, propped up on the pillows. He handed her the teacup.

Marty took the cup and a small sip. "Oh this tastes good. I'm just cold now."

"Not surprised, your hair is still soaking wet and I can't seem to find a heater thermostat to turn any heat on," he said as he headed towards the bathroom for a towel. He started to hand her the towel and then changed his mind. Graydon slowly started toweling her hair dry. She held very still and carefully took sips of tea as he mopped the water up out of her curls.

"Now, where is the thermostat?" he asked.

"Won't do any good. The furnace isn't lit yet," she said.

Marty, it's September, why haven't you lit the furnace?"

"Money. I'm never here, so why should I heat the house?" she asked.

Graydon just shook his head. "Okay Marty, how do you turn on the furnace?"

When he wouldn't relent, she explained how to go down into the basement and where the panel was as well as the matches to light the pilot. She also told him where the thermostat was located. He headed downstairs, expecting a mess, but was surprised to find it well organized and fairly clean. Graydon got the furnace lit and running in about ten minutes. He went upstairs and started checking for the floor vents he knew these bungalows had and made sure that they were clear. Only one was blocked, and that required him to move a pile of Horse and Rider magazines. Then he turned the thermostat to 70 and went back upstairs. The smell of hot dust began to course through the house as the heater began to work.

When he got to the bedroom door, he realized that Marty was asleep. Her cup tipped precariously off to one side with the dregs of her tea in the bottom. Not enough to make more than a wet spot, but he carefully took it and placed it on the nightstand. He tried to cover her up and she curled into a ball. He walked around the bed and knelt behind her on the edge to reach over her to finish covering her up. Just as he got the blanket up around her shoulders, she reached out in her sleep and grabbed the covers which were wrapped around his hand. 

Oh gods he thought. What am I going to do now? He tried to move his hand out and she just held on tighter. Graydon thought about it for a moment, kicked off his shoes and then slowly lowered himself down on the bed and the pile of pillows. She snuggled up closer to him and sighed in her sleep. Graydon smiled a wry smile. She smelled good and he felt things stir. No, now was not the time for that. He took a deep breath to settle down. It wasn't exactly what he had thought would happen if and when he finally got in bed with Marty, but it wasn't a bad start. It didn't take long for him to fall asleep either.

Graydon wasn't sure what woke him, but he looked over to the clock to see that it was 6:45am. Marty had let go of his hand sometime in the night, but was still curled up with her back to him. Very slowly, he got up off of the bed and put some of the pillows up against her back. It gave the illusion that they had been there all night. Graydon tipped toed downstairs and put his shoes on in the living room. He could either say he slept on the couch all night or sneak out the front door and then knock in an hour or so. He had already decided to call her in sick. The stables could just do without her for a day. Now to just decide how best to handle it.




In the Arms of Fenris



After a moment, he quietly left her keys in her coat pocket and let himself out the door. The Saab rolled down the street quietly for a block before starting it. Graydon drove back to his apartment. He showered and changed his clothes and then headed out to the Dirty Spoon to pick up breakfast for the two of them. There had been nothing in her fridge besides ice and a couple of carrots. She really didn't cook. 

Vicky smiled when he came in the door. "Did you get her home alright last night?" she asked.

"Yes, got her tucked up in bed and then went home. I came by for breakfast for the two of us. Figured she could just take a day off of work for once," he said. "I'd like two orders of biscuits and gravy to go please."

Vicky smiled. "Sure dear. We'll get it ready for you. "Two orders of covered slabs with porky on the side and a couple of raw cluckers!" she hollered into the kitchen. "And don't forget the side of George!"

Graydon just blinked and tried to figure out what on earth she had just ordered for them. Even after all this time he wasn't use to the eccentric slang they used for orders. He sat at the counter and Vicky plopped a cup of coffee in front of him.

"Hot joe's on the house deary," she said as she breezed off to seat some other customers. 

Graydon wondered if Vicky just came with the diner when the Henry's bought it or if they searched for her. He could just see the ad. Must be able to obscure the food choices on the menu into indescribable gibberish, walk 90 miles per hour in a twenty foot area and call everyone 'dear', 'hon' or 'sweetie' without rhyme or reason. Also must have eyes in the back of beehive hairdo and gracefully carry off a 1950's uniform.

Before he could imagine anymore, two large Styrofoam cartons in a cardboard soda case tray were plopped on the counter. "That'll be $8.50, and Ma Henry says don't argue," Vicky said.

Graydon put $16 on the counter and said his thanks as he went out the door. When he got to the car, he had to look to see just what it was they had ordered. In the first container were biscuits, gravy in a container, two eggs over easy, 8 sausage links and a piece of cherry pie. The other one was just the same. He smiled and made sure that they were safely seated on the passenger side. Now to see if he could wake Marty up by knocking on the door. 

He pulled up in front of her house and got the breakfasts out. He knocked on the door three or four times before he heard Marty's feet moving across the floor.

She opened the door and looked at him with a confused look on her face. "Graydon? Um... is it time to go get my car?" she asked standing there in her nightshirt. She looked sleepy and sexy at the same time.

"No, it's time to let me in so we can eat breakfast. I've been down to the Dirty Spoon and Vicky as well as Ma Henry said to eat your raw cluckers or else," he said with a smile.

For a moment she thought he was serious and then realized he was smiling. She stepped out of the doorway and closed it behind him as he headed to the kitchen table. He put the cartons on the table and got some silverware out. They sat down to eat.

"Thanks for bringing me home last night. I was so tired, I barely remember showering. Did you turn on the furnace? I woke up and it was so nice and warm, I thought I was dreaming."

"Yes, I lit the furnace. You were so cold when you got out of the shower that I was afraid you'd catch a cold. Not that you wanted me to turn it on. I had to worm the information out of you. By the time I got it lit, you'd fallen asleep. I covered you up and then went home," he said. Not a total lie, but he didn't want to upset her too much. Not at this point.

"Okay. I dreamed I slept with a great big dog. He kept me warm all night," she said as she yawned.

Graydon about choked on his cluckers. He covered it with a cough. "That's some dream. Was it Kenny? He was worried about you last night."

"No, it was a big furry dog, like a Shepherd or a wolfhound. He smelled really good too, sort of spicy like mocha which I thought was odd. Dogs don't smell like that," she said. Marty had finished her eggs and was working on the sausages and biscuits. 

Graydon was doing his best not to choke or turn purple. Oh gods. She had seen him somehow. He didn't remember shifting in the night, but that really wasn't abnormal. All he has to do is be tired enough and he'd shift. Last night he was concerned enough for Marty that he might have shifted in the night and missed it. 

"This is a good breakfast. I've only eaten dinner there. And I certainly couldn't figure out what it was she was giving us. I had to look in the boxes," he admitted. "The side of George threw me for a loop."

"I know. Vicky enjoys using obscure descriptions for menu items. Pa Henry encourages her too," Marty said. "If I hadn't ordered the tuna melt one day with French fries I'd never have figured out what it was by Vicky's order."

Graydon shuddered. "What did she call it?"

Marty took a deep breath. "One chunk of Flipper with hot cow cooked twice and greasy Frenchmen on the side."

Graydon just groaned. "That is just so bad. Do they sit back there when its slow and think these things up?"

"I never dared ask. They probably do." Marty took her nearly empty container over to the trash and put her fork in the sink. "Are you done yet?"

"Yes, I've eaten plenty. Can I save my pie on a plate though? I just can't finish it," he said.

"Of course." She turned and got a plate out of the cupboard. He slid the pie onto it and then Marty got some saran wrap out of the drawer. After she wrapped it up, she put it in the fridge.

"I'd better get ready for work. I'm already late," she said.

"Marty, don't go into work today. You are still worn out and I think that the place can do without you for a day. I'll even call you in if you want me to," he offered.

Marty shook her head. "No, I've gotta go in. There's Max to see to and the fence and..." 

"No, you don't need to go. In fact, if you try to get dressed, I'll... I'll..." He thought for a second. "I'll just take your clothes and not take you back over pick up your car." He figured that would be enough to make her stop and think. He was wrong. Instead, she got pissed.

"Graydon! You will take me over to my car or..." she said, and then ran out of breath. Graydon had picked her up and was kissing her. It dawned on him that the best way to stop her yelling was to kiss her. It worked. She felt wonderful in his arms.

A moment later, he put her down and stepped back. "Are you going to listen to reason? Or, do I have to carry you back up to bed so that you rest?" he asked in a quiet voice. 

Marty just blinked again and looked up at him with a puzzled look on her face. "I, umm.... I'll call Nick and let him know I won't be in today," she said as she walked over to her coat and pulled out her cell phone. She was giving Graydon an odd look that he couldn't puzzle out. He hoped he hadn't scared her in some way. 

"Nick, this is Marty. Yeah, I'm worn out. If you don't need me, I want to take the day off. I'll be in on Sunday to deal with the stuff if that's okay," she was saying as Graydon took the phone out of her hand.

"Hi Nick, this is Graydon. Marty was so tired that she couldn't even drive home last night. I brought her home and checked on her this morning. She is still worn out. How about she comes in on Monday? Good. If you need help with the fences or such, I can come by and give a hand, but she needs to stay in bed for a day or so. Sure. No problem. Call me at 655-9737 if you need me. Bye for now." Graydon closed the phone which ended the call and handed it back to Marty.

"What were you doing? You'll get me fired!" Marty was getting upset again.

"No, you aren't. In fact, he whole-heartedly agreed that you should have the whole weekend off. He said they have things under control and the other stable hands are pitching in because they all recognized just how much you did yesterday. If he needs me, he'll call. He has my number," Graydon finished and realized that she was still trying to be upset. He uncrossed his arms and put his hands on her shoulders. 

"Come on, either curl up on the couch or head back to bed. It's barely 9am."

Marty realized that he wasn't going to relent. She was also still trying to puzzle out something that was nudging the back of her brain. "Okay, Bed sounds good. My room is warmer than the kitchen," she finished. "Oh, and you can go home now. I'll call Dirk to come get me and pick up my car."

"Oh no. You aren't getting rid of me that easy. Besides, Jessie and Dirk are out of town. I ought to know, as I processed his day off paperwork," Graydon said.

Marty visibly shrank. Dammit! She wasn't used to anyone outmaneuvering her. Or better yet, having anyone even try to take care of her. Once she moved out at eighteen, it had been her and only her. Now there was Graydon to deal with and she wasn't sure if she liked this or not. She just shook her head and started upstairs. 

Graydon followed her and saw to it that she really climbed in bed. He excused himself to use the bathroom and when he came back, she was out of bed and nearly dressed. 

"Oh no you don't! I said rest, and you will."

Marty just shook her head. "No, I have stuff to do around here, and if I have a day off, I might as well get it done."

Graydon stepped over to her and picked her up. Gads she was a small and squirmy handful. Her curls were tickling his nose, so he hitched her up higher in his arms as he carried her towards the bed. Marty's own nose was stuck next to his ear and almost under his hair. The scent struck her and she stopped wiggling. Graydon figured that she had finally come to her senses and set her down.

"You! It was you in bed with me last night. Or at least I thought... no, I remember a dog. A big dog, but you smell just like that dog. All spicy and..." she stopped. "I don't understand." 

"Marty, sit down on the bed and we'll talk." Graydon sat on the edge of the bed within arms distance. Got to tread lightly he thought. Can't mess this up. Don't want to change jobs or leave town. Not now. Besides, if he hurt Marty, Ma Henry and Kenny would flay him alive.

"Marty, I want to talk to you about something and I need you to have an open mind. If at any point you want to stop, just let me know and I'll leave."

Marty wasn't sure where this was going, but she was too curious to stop. She grabbed a pillow off the bed and hugged it to herself, resting her chin on the top. "Okay, go for it."

"First off, I did spend the night with you. You grabbed the covers when I tried to cover you up and trapped my hand. So, I laid down with you. Slept with you. That's it," he cleared his throat, preparing to explain the rest when she interrupted.

"So, where did the dog come from and why do you smell like the dog I dreamed about?" she asked.

"Umm..." Graydon hesitated and then decided to just say it. Worst she could do is laugh or scream. "Because, the dog was me. And it wasn't a dog, it was a wolf." He stopped there, and waited.

Marty gave him a look that combined confusion, puzzlement and incomprehension all at once. "Wolf? You?" She thought for a moment more. "You're the reason Ashka went all funny! But how? I don't understand," she said.

Graydon thought for a moment and couldn't figure out an easy way to say this, let alone explain it. In fact, he had never figured out an easy way to discuss the other side of his life. "Marty, I'm a werewolf." 

Marty just looked at him. She didn't know whether to laugh or just shake her head. "You're a werewolf? Like in the stories? Turn furry when the moon is full and all that shit?" she asked not sure is she really believed him.

Graydon nodded. So far, she was handling this much better than he expected. For the moment. She could still start screaming any second.

"Do you eat people?" she asked. 

Graydon felt the smile play over his face. "No, I don't eat people. Nor do I bite and turn others into werewolves. It's genetic, not contagious. I go furry when I want to, but the urge to do so is stronger at the dark and full moon. My dad is a werewolf and some of my siblings are. Mom isn't. She's totally human. Oh, and I keep up on my shots and wear a collar if I go out at night in the city." Graydon sat back and watched her face and body language. She hadn't panicked. He'd have smelled that. In fact, she looked rather thoughtful, as if she was taking this all in and wasn't bothered by it.

"Marty? What are you thinking? Do I need to leave?" he asked.

Marty had a thousand thoughts racing through her head. He'd been the dog she thought she'd dreamed. He was also the reason the animals had acted strangely that night. But, Kenny loved him. Thought he was great and listened to him so well. Well, maybe that was because he was a wolf. He had been a gentleman when he could have taken advantage of her. He seemed to care about her too which was nice. She wasn't sure exactly what to think. Marty wasn't sure what to make of the way her body responded to him either.

"Marty?" he asked again. 

"Oh. Sorry. Just putting all the pieces together. I know that this may sound funny, but I'm okay with this. I think," she went silent for a minute, and Graydon waited. "Okay, let me get all of this straight in my head. You're really a werewolf?"

"Yes. Have been all my life."

"It's genetic."

"Yes."

"You don't eat people. Or shred them like in the movies?"

"No. I'd much rather go eat at the Dirty Spoon. As for movies and the way they portray my kind, it's inaccurate in all sorts of ways. Most of us are not homicidal monsters who think of men as cattle. We might forget that we are human, or not communicate well with our human side, but that is a different matter," he said.

"Okay. How much control do you have over shifting to wolf?" she asked.

"I can control it ninety percent of the time. In moments of danger or panic or sometimes in my sleep, I shift without active control," he explained. 

"Which is why I dreamed that I slept with a big dog."

"Yes, otherwise, the most you might have noticed is what the dogs at work did. That I smell different."

Marty put her pillow down and came closer to Graydon. She put her nose next to his ear and sniffed. There it was, that spicy mocha scent. It had been all over the pillow she had been clutching. "You do smell good. Very good." She moved closer to Graydon and kissed him on the lips. 

He kissed her back, and although he felt his heart begin to race, he was doing his best to control his emotions. She hadn't panicked. She hadn't screamed. In fact, she was being more intimate with her kisses than any woman he'd been with in months. Slowly, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. They kissed for a long time. Then Marty pulled her face away from his.

"Graydon, you honestly care about me?" she asked. 

"Yes," he said, his voice going husky. "It's not just lust either. I like the way you work with animals and people. You treat them the same. And I love the crazy place you eat most of the time. Besides, you smell good to me," he kissed her neck as he finished speaking. It sent shivers down her spine.

"Oh,... that feels so good," she said.

Graydon smiled at that and took the kisses down around to her collarbone. Her shirt was in the way, and he unbuttoned one button, kissed her skin there and then looked to her face for a reaction; for permission to continue. Marty smiled at him and arched her back to bring the next button closer to his hand. It was Graydon's turn to smile.

He undid her shirt, and kissed his way down to the waistband of her jeans and then back up to her cotton bra. Graydon snuffed his nose around the edges of it and kissed her nipples through the cloth. Marty moaned. He ran the tip of his tongue up the skin between her breasts until he reached her throat. Marty shuddered with pleasure.

Graydon moved the shirt off of Marty's shoulders and then down her arms. It fell to the floor, followed by her bra a moment later. Marty sat astride Graydon's lap, and pulled at his sweatshirt. He helped her pull it off between snatching kisses. That started them both giggling. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled them together until they were skin to skin. The heat of their bodies felt so good. Marty started to push them over and Graydon held her tight and rolled both of them until they were nearly in the middle of the bed. Marty was sitting astride him still, her curls hanging down around her face. She was tracing her fingers over the hair on his chest and giving small kisses. It was his turn to moan. 

"It's so soft," she said.

"What?" 

"The hair on your chest. I expected it to be wiry. Most men I've dated have been like sleeping with a hairless boy or a Brillo pad. You're just soft," she said as she continued to run her fingers across his chest.

Graydon's hands cupped her breasts and he moved his fingers enough to roll her nipples back and forth. They stiffened. Marty moaned and ground her butt against his crotch. He felt so hard that he thought he'd burst. "M-marty, I..." he started and got no farther. Marty felt him press against her and moved down the bed. Graydon let go of her breasts and lay there in anticipation.

Marty undid the buckle of his belt and then slowly eased the button and zip on his jeans. She didn't want to catch him in the zip as he was pressed so hard against it. She moved farther down and as he lifted his hips, she pulled his jeans off, leaving him in cotton bikini underwear. His erection stretched the material taut. 

Standing up at the end of the bed, she dropped her own jeans and then her undies to the floor. She crawled back up the bed, caressing his legs with her hands. Graydon sat up on his elbows to watch her move up his body. The curls tickled his legs, but he didn't care. When her lips got near the top of his thighs, she stopped to kiss the skin right at the edge of his underwear. Graydon almost sat straight up. Marty looked up at him and smiled. Then she kissed the top of him as he strained against his underwear. 

"M-marty..."

Marty took the top of the underwear in her fingers and pulled them down and off. His erection sprang free and she looked at the fine hair all around it and his balls. Not hair, fur. It was soft and fine, like that on his chest. She kissed his balls and the base of his shaft. 

Graydon groaned. He wanted to grab her in his arms, but she kept just out of reach. If he sat up, she stopped. He leaned back on his elbows and waited.

Marty kissed to the top of his shaft and then as slowly as she could, lowered her mouth onto him. She ran out of throat before she got down towards his balls. She'd never mastered the art of opening her throat enough to take someone all the way in. It didn't matter though. The way Graydon was built it still wouldn't have worked. She was running her tongue over him and felt him shudder. 

Graydon grabbed her shoulders. "Marty, stop. I don't want to go so fast. Please," he said in a throaty whisper. 

Marty slowly let him out of her mouth. Graydon then pulled her up to him and started kissing her lips. She eased onto the bed. His hands went to her breasts, playing with her nipples. Then one hand drifted down her belly until it found her triangle of curls. His fingers went farther and felt how wet she was. 

"I see that I'm not the only one with soft hair," he whispered in her ear. His fingers played over her lower lips. Marty shifted her hips so that he could touch her more readily. His fingers slid into her and she squirmed against his hand as he moved his fingertips over those sensitive inner spots. His fingers moved in and out matching the rhythm of her hips. Graydon brought his fingers up and in until he reached that small tender button. He gently caressed it and she arched off of the bed in pleasure.




In the Arms of Fenris



"Ohhh..." escaped her lips in a whisper.

Graydon brought his lips down around her nipple and sucked on it. He enjoyed the feeling of it getting harder under his attentions. His hands continued to caress her lower lips as he moved his mouth from one nipple to the other. Then he kissed his way down her belly, letting his lips replace his fingers. She tasted sweet and salty. His tongue moved over her lips and clit until she grabbed his head and wrapped her fingers in his hair as she came. He kept it up as she shuddered again and again. Graydon lowered her back onto the bed and moved back up to the pillows where her head lay in a pile of curls. 

"Gray,... Oh gods... I want..." she tried to speak, but was still breathing fast. Giving up speech, she pulled him to her until he was between her legs. The tip of his erection brushed her lower lips in a light teasing motion. She arched and he held back.

"Are you ready?" he asked in a hoarse whisper.

"Yes." 

She arched her hips towards him and he slowly entered her. It took all of his control not to explode right there. She was so hot and wet that they slid together easily. Graydon was trying not to bury himself to the hilt, as he didn't know how she was built. The last thing he wanted to do right now was hurt her because he plunged too deep. They started to build a rhythm and he felt himself go deeper and deeper. Marty didn't flinch, and so he let go of a little bit of control and brought their hips together with his next stroke. 

"Oh... oh... oh..." Marty moaned.

Graydon wasn't sure if that was pain or pleasure. "Are you okay?" he asked as he slowed down his thrusts. 

"I'm fine. It feels so good. Oh... gods... don't stop..." she thrust her hips tighter against him as she spoke. 

Graydon smiled and moved faster. It did feel good. He had rarely found a woman who was comfortable with all of him inside of her. Their bodies moved together faster and faster. Marty began to arch up off of the bed as her orgasm built. Graydon too felt the heat build from the base of his spine and realized that he could hold off no longer. Thrusting hard enough to shake the bed, he came arching and shuddering. Marty orgasmed seconds later and the two of them collapsed to the bed in a pile of hot sweaty flesh. Graydon rolled them to their sides so as to not squish Marty. 

"That was wonderful. It has been way too long," Marty whispered in his ear.

"I agree. Even longer since I didn't have to keep a tight control on my own body."

Marty gave him a puzzled look. "What do you mean?"

"I'm not exactly small, and that plus the extra strength natural to my kind, makes sex a bit dicey at times," he admitted.

Marty thought about it for a second and then looked down towards his penis laying soft between them. "Okay, so you're a bit big. It isn't the biggest I've ever seen, but you felt really good inside of me."

"You may be a petite woman, but you are built fairly deep. You aren't some frail wispy woman either. All those years of horses and dogs have given you muscles that don't show under those flannel shirts and jeans. You have no idea how nice that can be," he said and kissed her lips.

"You're welcome, I guess. I know that not many men have ever brought me that fast or sweetly."

Graydon just smiled. He reached over and pulled down the covers so that they could slide under them. Marty snuggled against his chest and within a few minutes they were both asleep. 

He woke a few hours later to find her hand snuggled between his thighs, and her head on his chest. Thoughts of earlier woke him up in more ways than one. Graydon gently moved her hand and kissed the top of her head as he moved her off his chest. He was thinking of sneaking out of bed when Marty woke.

"Where do you think you're going?" she asked.

"I thought about getting up, but other things woke up too," he said with a smile as his erection bumped her hand and wrist. 

She smiled up at him and then snuggled under the covers. Next thing he knew, he felt her lips slide down his erection. A groan escaped his lips. He couldn't figure out how she was doing it, but it felt as if she were purring. Her mouth seemed to vibrate against his skin. His hand traced down her back and reached between her thighs. He barely touched her lips and she moaned. He tried to concentrate on touching her while her lips played over him. It was a losing battle. Before he totally lost all control, she came up out of the covers and moved herself over his erection. Slowly, she lowered herself onto him until their hips met.

Graydon looked up at her. Marty was smiling a lovely giddy smile as they moved together. His hips thrust up to meet her as she rocked back and forth.

"I... thought... it felt... good... be-fore..." she moaned.

Graydon started to answer her and all that came out was a groan of pleasure as her body moved with his. Before he could do anything, he felt his orgasm build and explode within her. He was doing his best to continue to thrust as she orgasmed. Marty nearly bumped heads with him as her body contorted in pleasure. She gasped and then collapsed against his chest.

"Oh... my... gods..." she moaned as she slowly slid to one side. She grabbed the covers and Graydon helped pull them up. She looked over to see a lovely silly grin on Graydon's face. She didn't need to ask him if it had felt good. It felt so nice to lay here in his arms. 

The phone ringing dragged Marty from a deep sleep. She reached over to where it was sitting on her nightstand. "Hello?" Marty wasn't totally awake. "Oh. Hi Nick. Yeah, I was asleep. No, I'm feeling better. Still tired, but better. Oh. No, please don't. Will you hold him till we get there? My car is down at the diner and Graydon will have to bring us out. Yes, we will be there in about an hour. Okay. Bye," she closed the phone and looked over to Graydon who had woke up when he heard his name.

"What's the matter and why are we going down to your work?" he asked.

"The Sheppard's have been by to see Max and have decided to put him down. Nick won't do it even though he told them he would. He asked me if I wanted Max. So, I said I'd be down in an hour," she said as she climbed out of bed and headed towards the shower. 

Graydon followed her. "What the hell are you going to do with Max? You said he was just about useless. Wouldn't it be kinder to just put him down?"

"No! Just because they couldn't control him, doesn't mean that Max should die. I'll give the dog a chance in spite of himself. You can either help or get the hell out of my way!" she growled as she turned to get into the shower.

Graydon stepped into the shower with her, took Marty by the shoulders and turned her around. "I won't interfere. However, if you are willing to give that dog a chance, maybe I can help."

"How could you help?" Marty couldn't figure where Graydon was going with this.

Graydon moved his jaw from side to side a bit and then smiled. The fangs that showed were not what they would be when he fully shifted, but they were enough to make a point. Marty's eyes grew large and she stepped back.

"What... what... are you going to do?" she asked in a gasping voice.

"I'm going to talk to Max, wolf to dog," said Graydon in a growly tone. It was hard to partially shift and still keep his voice. 

"Oh." Marty looked at Graydon and realized that he had partially shifted to make his point. It drove home a fact that she had been letting lurk in the back of her mind. He really was a werewolf. "Umm,.. Can you go back to normal?" She watched him with curiosity.

Graydon nodded, shuddered and then answered. "Yes. It takes a minute, but I can. Lots easier though than from full shift." The growl was still there in his voice, but not as pronounced as it had been a few minutes before.

"Okay. That was weird. Cool, but weird," she said and turned to the water taps. "We'd better get showered fast."

He nodded as the water hit him in the chest. He was still surprised at how well Marty was coping with the werewolf issue. 

They cleaned up as quickly as possible. If he stayed here he'd have to bring over some of his own shampoo. The apple scented stuff was overpowering his nose. Marty stepped out of the shower first and grabbed towels for the two of them. 

As Graydon toweled off, he looked around for a hair dryer. "Do you have a hair dryer?" he asked finally.

"Umm, Nope. Don't dare with all these curls. I'd have an afro," she said. This made Graydon laugh, because her hair practically did just that. The length gave it just enough weight to not totally circle her head. "Alright, then I'll just towel it really dry. Unless you don't give a rat's ass as to who knows we just bonked ourselves silly, I'd rather not advertise it with two wet heads showing up at the stables."

Marty thought about this and nodded in agreement. "No, I'd rather keep it between us for at least a day or so," she smiled and then went out into the bedroom to dress. 

They were on the road in less than twenty minutes. Neither one of them realized that they had slept for so long. It was nearly 7pm. Graydon pulled into the stable yard and parked his car where Marty pointed. Nick saw them pull up and opened the door to the surgery. They stepped into the waiting area and started heading towards the treatment room. Nick stopped in the doorway.

"I had to call you. There was no way I'd have let them take Max. So, they wanted him put to sleep. Right then. We brought him in, and I did exactly what they said. I put him to sleep," Nick finished and opened the door. 

Marty was getting worried, especially when she saw Max on the dog bed next to the treatment table. She hurried over to Max. Putting her hand on his chest, she realized that he was asleep. "Oh Nick! You clever bastard!" she said. 

Graydon was looking from one to the other and trying to understand just what went on. The dog looked dead, but obviously wasn't. Then it hit him. "I get it! They said 'put him to sleep' and you took them literally rather than euphemistically. So, they think the dog is dead and Max gets a second chance." 

"Exactly!" Nick was smiling as he walked over to Max and Marty. "I figured that if there was anyone who could turn this dog around it would be you Marty. He has always been better when you're around. It was just going back and forth that screwed him up. You will have to take him home though for a while. Can you handle that?" he asked.

"Yes, I can cope. My yard is fenced and there is a dog run in the back. Remember, I keep Kenny during the Henry's vacations," she said.

"Oh! That's right. I've got his kennel stuff here in a box, and you can take that bed. I've put some food in a bag for you too," Nick said as he started putting stuff on the table.

"You were pretty certain that I'd take Max," said Marty.

"Yes. Certain enough to take you off the work schedule for the next week. I figured you'd need the time with him," said Nick.

"Nick, I can't afford to take a week off!" Marty protested.

"You can. You're just off the schedule, not the payroll. I figure that bringing Max back was worth the vacation time you never take. So, get him out of here and go play mom. See you a week from Monday." Nick smiled and headed out the door. "Oh, and don't forget to turn out the lights!" he hollered as he left.

"Why is he leaving so rapidly?" Graydon asked.

"Simple. Plausible deniability. If he isn't here when the dog is taken, he can honestly say he put it to sleep and that a stable hand must have buried the body," Marty explained.

Graydon thought about it for a moment. "I take it that this isn't the first time Nick has been a clever bastard and rescued an animal."

"Nope. However, most of the animals were a lot easier to place than this mutt. First time we did it it was an entire litter of puppies. AKC registered puppies. The mother died and the owner didn't want them. Told Nick to drown them for killing their mom. So, we bathed them, and gave them to another bitch to nurse," she explained. 

"I think I underestimated Nick. Smart man even if he isn't the best with some animals." Graydon knelt down to pick up Max. He realized it would be easier to pick up the pillow at the same time. Marty was getting ready to help him and then realized that he was stronger than he looked. Graydon picked Max and the pillow up easily. "Go get the back hatch open Marty."

Marty grabbed the box of stuff and headed out to Graydon's car. He followed behind her with Max. After settling Max and his stuff into the back, Marty went back in and closed up the clinic. She turned the lock and pulled the door shut. "Let's go!" she said.

Graydon started up his car and they pulled out of the parking lot and back onto the road. Twenty minutes later, they were back at the house. Marty opened the doors and Graydon once again carried Max. They set him on the back porch. Marty brought the rest of the stuff in from the car and set up his food dish and water bowl. They removed anything that might get damaged and then closed the door. 

"How long will it be before Max wakes up?" he asked. 

"Probably within the hour. Nick wouldn't have given him too heavy a dose. Why?"

"Well, if I'm going to have a talk with Max, I want to have time to get ready. I don't want to be in the middle of kissing you," he said as he leaned over and kissed Marty on the top of her head.

"Silly man!" she smiled. "I have a request for you."

"Yes my dear?"

"Would you go pick up a pizza for us? That piece of pie isn't going to hold us for long and I really don't want to go to the Dirty Spoon tonight."

"I can understand that. Will you call it in, or do I just head over?" he asked, trying to remember exactly where he had seen the pizza shop. 

"I'll call it in. What kind of pizza do you like?" she asked.

"Pepperoni and mushroom is my favorite, but I'll eat just about anything," he answered.

"Alright," Marty took her phone out of her pocket and ordered a large pizza. "They said it would be ready in fifteen minutes."

"And where do I go?"

"Down two blocks and turn left. You can't miss it." 

Marty was right. There was no missing the pizza place. Not only did it smell good, but it had a huge revolving pizza for a sign. Graydon paid for the pizza and was back before it steamed up his windows. 

"That smells so good! I didn't realize how hungry I was," said Marty.

"It's all that sleeping," Graydon said with a grin on his face. 

They sat down at the table and ate pizza straight out of the box. Marty did tear off a couple of paper towels for napkins, but that was about it. Graydon had just finished his third piece of pizza when they heard a whimpering coming from the back porch.  

"I think the baby is awake," he joked.

"Yes. I'll go let him out in the back yard to do his business. Are you going to... you know... um..." she hesitated.

"Shift? Yes. I'll meet you out there in a few minutes." 

"Alright," Marty turned and went into the porch where she was met with joyful barking. He heard the back door open and then close. Graydon picked up the pizza and put the leftovers in the fridge. Then he walked out to the living room and up to the bedroom. 

Once upstairs, he took off his clothes and left them in a neat pile. Taking a deep breath, he relaxed and started to shift. A moment later, he shook himself and started downstairs. When he got to the kitchen, he realized he had a problem. Marty's house had doorknobs. He couldn't open the door to the porch. Shifting back and forth to just open doors would take more energy than he had at the moment. So, he did the only thing he could think of. He yipped. It was a high pitched noise, but it was enough to get Marty's attention. She came in and realized he was stuck in the kitchen. Smiling, she opened the doors. 

Graydon walked out and looked around. Max was over in a corner of the yard trying to dig a hole. He walked over to him and growled. It got Max's attention. Marty watched the two animals from the back porch. She had been surprised by the size of Graydon in wolf form. He was much bigger than she had expected. Having seen real wolves, Marty thought she had a clue as to what he'd look like. In some ways, she was right. In others, she had been way off. His fur was dark gray with lighter highlights along his chest and belly. His shoulders were higher than her waist, and although she was only 5'4", that still made him a big animal. When he had yipped, she jumped. Then it made her laugh to realize that something as little as a doorknob had stopped him.

Out in the dark, Max was getting an unexpected lecture. He knew he was with the lady from the place with the horses and other dogs. He had smelled the wolf and panicked. Still groggy from the sedative, he could only whimper and lower his head. Finally, he rolled over on his back in submission. He knew he was beta to the wolf. The wolf growled one last time and as he turned, kicked grass and bits of dirt over Max's prone body.

Marty wished she had some way to interpret what was going on in the back corner. Max went from happy tail wagging to rolling over on his back in a matter of moments. The wolf,... she had trouble thinking of him as Graydon at the moment... was definitely being the alpha male. He kicked dirt over Max and then headed back to the porch. Not knowing exactly what was proper, Marty held her hand out to the wolf to let him sniff her, just like she would with any strange dog. He sniffed her hand and then butted it with his head. Marty smiled and petted his head. She knelt down and ran her fingers through his fur from his ears down to his ruff. It was so thick. He leaned his head against hers and then licked her face.

"Paaugh! You have bad breath!" she said.

The wolf looked like he was laughing. Then he butted against her and moved through the door and into the kitchen. Marty stood up, wiped her face on her sleeve and then called Max. 

Max hesitated. He saw the wolf interact with the woman and understood that she was alpha too. He came up to the door with his head lowered. 

"Come on Max. It won't be too bad," Marty said as she scratched his ears. Max wagged his tail slowly and went into the porch. He went over to his pillow, turned around a few times and lay down. Marty watched him, closed the back door and then after walking into the kitchen, she closed the door to the porch. Max was still on the pillow. 

Wow! She thought as she headed up the stairs. Marty walked into the bedroom to see a large wolf sprawled on the bed. Marty was rather surprised. She had figured that Graydon would have changed back already. There were some things she would have to ask him later then. Looking at the clock, she saw that it was nearly 10pm. She grabbed her nighty and stripped off her clothes. It was a bit difficult to get him to move over, but she managed to wrangle a section of the bed complete with pillow and covers. Marty snuggled next to the wolf and was asleep in a few minutes. As she drifted off, she thought to herself that she could get use to this.

Morning found her wrapped in Graydon's arms. It was a lovely feeling. Then she recognized the sound that had woken her up. It was whining coming from the kitchen. Max! Oh gods! He'd probably torn the back porch to bits or messed all over it by now. 

"Graydon, let me up. I need to go let Max out before he destroys the porch," she said as she crawled out of the bed.

"More like before he explodes. I made it as clear to him as I could that there was his territory and mine last night," he said.

"Okay, I'll let you know what I find." Marty headed out of the bedroom and downstairs. She reached the kitchen and found Max with his head peeping in through the porch door window. She opened the door expecting him to jump all over her like he did at the kennel. Instead, when he saw her coming, he moved towards the back door. She opened it and he shot out towards the back of the yard. A moment later, he was a very relieved dog. 




In the Army



Hello, everyone. One more story on gorgeous hunky gay guys.

-Elenia

Lieutenant Rafe Firehawk arose from his cot where he had been writing a letter. It was time to go check on the disposition of his men. His Captain had told him there would be an announcement tonight that he was to pass on, so he wanted to be there early.

He pulled his boots on and headed out of the officers' barracks. As he walked he reflected on how nice it was to actually be in a barracks for once, rather than camped out on the field. This time their battalion had gotten here first, and so they had priority on the barracks.

He went inside the front room of the soldiers' barracks, and found his four sergeants playing cards there. They started to get up, but he waved them back down. "At ease, boys. How're the men?"

His senior Sergeant, Sergeant Graham Warwick, spoke, smiling. "They're doing fine, sir, but hoping to get out in the town." Graham had been his best friend from childhood and just about managed to show Rafe some respect in front of the others. Rafe returned the grin.

"Captain's on his way. I get the feeling he's on the way to give them some leave, actually."

Graham nodded. "Sounds good, sir. I must say I could use some myself."

"We all could, Sergeant."

"Pardon me for saying so, but will you be taking any, Lieutenant?"

Rafe shook his head ruefully. "I'm afraid not, Sergeant. No doubt the Captain will have work for me." Just then he noticed the Captain coming in, and said, "Officer in house!"

The five men rose and turned and snapped out sharp salutes. The Captain returned it, and said, "At ease, men." 

Captain Julian Tiberius was a man to be reckoned with. No one, not even Rafe, knew much about his past – he was a career soldier and most of the people in the room had joined up because of the war. But he was a powerful warrior and a brilliant tactician. He had promise in the ranks.

He was a big man, but moved with a surprising grace. Long blond hair and a jaw to crack iron completed the look, but he smiled easily and was a very good leader. He was probably ten years older than Rafe, and showed a distinct fondness for his first lieutenant – Rafe had served under him since the beginning of the war, starting out as a private. 

Rafe on the other hand was dark-haired and dark-eyed, but not much smaller. He had been raised on a farm after all, or more correctly, a vineyard. The man that had been almost grown before the war had had the finishing polish put on him by the constant fighting and marching everywhere. He was twenty-five years old and no longer an innocent farm boy. Every day he realized more and more that the world was an incredibly large place. 

"All right, men. Carry on." The Captain gestured to Rafe and they stepped just outside. 

"I think you know why I'm here, Rafe. We're in town and the town guards can do the guarding for a night. Let the men have a night of leave. But listen – I want civilized, decent men out there, and you pass that on."

"Yes, sir."

"As for you, Rafe, I don't think I can let you go. We have some work to do. I want you to report to my room tonight, at say, 10 PM. I need to go over the new troop roster with you."

"Yes, sir. I'll be there, sir." 

"Right. Carry on." And the Captain was gone.

Truth be told, Rafe didn't mind. He took his responsibilities very seriously and he knew Graham and his other sergeants would keep the boys in line. 

He had hoped for a little alone time with Graham, though. Graham and he had not only been childhood friends, they had shared everything with each other – money, food, entertainment, and most of all women. And there had definitely been times where they hadn't even bothered with the women. After all, it was a farm and available willing women were sometimes in short supply. As a result they were very close indeed. 

Oh well.

Lieutenant Firehawk went back inside and relayed the orders to the Sergeant. "You're going to have to make it clear they must get in on time. Anyone who doesn't will be on PT, right? And I don't want to hear of anyone bothering the townsfolk."

Graham nodded. "No problem, Ell Tee," he said, in his affectionate, insolent manner, and sauntered back in. "Oi! You men! You've got some leave but I want you to hear this from me before you go. If I hear one of you sodding idiots causing trouble out there it's me you have to deal with!"

Rafe listened to his berating them for a minute or two longer, then, grinning, returned to his own barracks. Graham had fit right into the role of sergeant and obviously loved it. 

It was gone 8 PM now, so he took a long bath – ah, the pleasures of a bunkhouse – then finished his letter, before nodding to the other three lieutenants in his battalion and heading out. 

He found the Captain's quarters easily enough; it wasn't far from his room but a little more segregated. He knocked on the door.

"Come in."

Rafe stepped inside and shut the door behind him. "It's me, sir."

"Ah, Rafe. Come on in. Have a seat. I'm just finishing up on this correspondence."

Rafe took a seat in front of the desk, The room was small, but surprisingly cozy. A fire was burning in the hearth. The room included a small desk and two chairs as well as the Captain's bed, still narrow but somewhat wider than his own. And of course he had it all to himself – Rafe still shared a four-man room with the others. If Rafe achieved the next promotion he would be given quarters like these, at least when they were available. 

But Rafe wasn't sure if he wanted to be Captain. Look at the responsibility, after all. Under Rafe was A Company – 48 men, including himself. Under the Captain were no less than four such companies, or almost 200 men.

Captain Tiberius finished what he was doing and sealed it up. "All right, Lieutenant. On to the next thing. We're getting replacements for the men we lost at Pharos Pass. A lot of them are new, though, fresh out of training. I want you and the other lieutenants to make sure they split them up somewhat evenly, dividing the veterans amongst the new ones. Try to make sure all of your corporals are veterans."

For a while they just discussed troops, deciding whom to move where. They then went to some discussion of the veterans and who to promote to sergeants in the other companies. The other three lieutenants had already given Rafe their recommendations to take to their Captain, and the Captain after looking them over, approved them all. 

Afterwards he sat back. "I'm sorry to take you off leave, Rafe. I'm sure you wanted to go, too."

"It's all right, sir. There was work to be done."

He grinned. "You're a good soldier, Rafe. Care for a drink?"

"Thank you sir. Uh...sure, sir. If you don't mind."

"Nonsense. If I minded, why would I ask?" The Captain went to a small cupboard off to the side and opened it. "I brought some of this with me last time we had an opportunity to go into town." He brought back a graceful bottle and two glasses. "It's just a merlot, nothing special, but I thought it would be nice for nights we had to work."

He poured out two glasses and handed one to Rafe. Raising his glass, he said, "To the end of the war."

"I'll toast to that, sir!" And Rafe drank. The merlot had a sweet taste to it, and it reminded him of his father's vines, grown heavy with grapes. He tasted it carefully and rolled it around his tongue, and the Captain noticed.

"That's right, Rafe, you know something about wines, don't you?"

"A bit, sir. After all, it is my family business."

"From the Misty Farms, yes?"

"Yes, sir."

'Come a long way from there, haven't we?"

Rafe had originally joined up as a militiaman from the Farms themselves. His first commander, Duke Barrington, had had no military experience and had taken 80 militiamen up into the mountains against a band of 120 corsair pirates. The Duke had not given them proper training and had not set up defensive positions but had ordered a charge at them, up hill. Out of the 80 militiamen, only 10 had survived. Out of those 10, Rafe, Graham, and one other young man were the only ones that had taken the chance to join up with the military after that. The other seven returned home.

"Yes, we have sir. Sometimes I still feel like a militiaman, though sir – I don't think that feeling will ever leave me."

"Ah, but you're a fine soldier, with promise. And quite good-looking, too."

Rafe looked at him in surprise. The Captain was looking reflectively into his wine glass.

"Sir?"

"Don't look at me so surprised, Rafe. You know what I'm talking about. I've seen you watching me, wondering. Let me ask you a question – you and Graham are a lot closer than you let on, aren't you? Don't lie to your Captain."

Rafe hesitated, stuttered, and took the plunge. "Yes, sir. You're right, of course. How did you know?"

Captain Tiberius met his eyes. "It takes one to know one, Rafe." He set his glass down and came around the desk. "Stand up, son."

"Yes sir." Rafe stood, setting his own glass down.

The Captain eyed him for a minute; his blue eyes looking into Rafe's own brown ones. 

"I've had my eye on you from the start, Rafe. I've been waiting for you to get to a rank that was close enough to my own. But you had to earn it, and earn it you did, so don't worry about that at least."

He reached out and to Rafe's surprise, stroked a finger down Rafe's cheek. "These scars you have prove you've earned it." Rafe shivered.

"All right, Rafe. Let me put it to you straight. You can walk out that door right now. Our work is done. There's no coercion to anything that happens from now and there'll be no punishment. But if you stay, we might just enjoy ourselves."

Rafe took a deep breath. The Captain was not wrong. Rafe had found him very attractive, and had often had fleeting thoughts about him. He had not been with any other man than Graham, though, so he hadn't any idea of how to approach him or even if he was interested. But did he want to do this?

He nodded firmly, and stepped out from behind the chair, and walked to the door. He turned and looked at his Captain, who was looking at him impassively. Still watching him, he reached out...and locked the door.

The Captain gave him a half-smile. "Good decision, lieutenant."

"Yes, sir."

Captain Tiberius walked towards him, across the room, until he was standing right in front of him. He reached out a hand and put it on Rafe's shoulder. "Good heavens, are you frightened of me?" For the shoulder was trembling a little.

"Not really, sir. Well, perhaps a little."

The Captain chuckled. "No need to be, Rafe." He put both his hands on Rafe's shoulders and gently pushed him back against the door. "I'll go slow, if that's what you like."

He held Rafe at arm's length and looked him up and down. "My, you are quite a good-looking young boy, aren't you? All those years on the farm? I'm going to enjoy this."

Rafe blushed a little but simply said, "Thank you, sir." The Captain's eyes met his again, and Rafe found himself pinned to the wall by those ice-blue eyes.

"Ah, Rafe." And the Captain leaned forward and kissed him. The kiss was gentle but startling as Rafe had never had a man other than Graham kiss him before, and the Captain kissed much, much better than Graham's clumsy kisses. The Captain obviously had a great deal of experience as his mouth gently covered Rafe's. 

As the Captain's tongue found its way into his mouth, Rafe felt the Captain running his hands up his chest, and finding his way to his buttons. He began to open each one, after the other, and Rafe felt his fingers caressing his skin.

To his surprise he felt the Captain – he still couldn't think of him as anything other than his Captain - lean on him, and felt the unmistakable bulge in the Captain's pants rubbing against his own – and he realized just how turned on he was. He couldn't resist any longer and put his own arms around the Captain's neck, and returned the kiss.

The Captain chuckled. Whispering softly, he said, "We'll have to teach you how to do that better, Rafe. Like this." And his mouth guided Rafe's, a little more roughly now, and Rafe followed his example.

By now Rafe's shirt was open all down the front, and the Captain pulled it up out of his pants and pulled the sides apart. He planted one last kiss on Rafe's mouth, and began moving down his neck. Rafe felt a hand squeeze his cock through his breeches. "I'm looking forward to seeing this, lieutenant."

"Whenever you want to, sir." Rafe gasped as the Captain's teeth scraped down his neck. 

"Whenever I want to is right, soldier."

Captain Tiberius continued down his body, running his mouth and sometimes his tongue over Rafe's muscular chest, eliciting little groans of pleasure from him. Rafe thought his cock was like to burst from his pants. 

He felt the Captain's teeth close gently around his right nipple and his hand closed around the back of the Captain's neck. "Captain..." he said urgently, not sure what he was asking for.

"All in good time, Rafe."

The warm wet mouth continued down to Rafe's belly, and licked down the trail of hair on his belly. Rafe felt the Captain kneel. "Not often you get your Captain kneeling to you, is it, Rafe?" he said, undoing the drawstring and Rafe's waist.

"No, sir."

The Captain undid his pants, and gently slid them down. Rafe was not wearing anything underneath, for comfort's sake in the barracks, and his cock came into view, fully erect and throbbing.

"I'm glad to see my ministrations have had effect, lieutenant. Due to your lack of dialogue, I wasn't really sure." There was a twinkle in his eye that Rafe knew meant he was joking. 

"I'm sorry, sir. I'm just a little overwhelmed." The Captain listened, nodded, and said, "Well, I'm nowhere near done," and opened his mouth and engulfed Rafe's cock in it.

Rafe's head hit the door as he leaned back. How long had it been since anyone had taken him into their mouth this way? Some weeks, that was for sure. And to think of his own Captain, his superior officer, the man that had brought him up from private, on his knees, with his head bobbing on Rafe's cock as it was doing even now, was incredibly arousing.

He looked down to see the Captain's blond head moving back and forth, and felt the warm wetness on his cock. The Captain's hand slid between his legs and gently fondled him, and began taking even more of his cock down his throat.

Suddenly Rafe felt an iron grip around the base of his cock, and realized the Captain was using his other hand. The Captain began to pump, sucking at the same time, and Rafe realized he was already close to orgasming.

"Sir!" he said, desperately, but the Captain was strong and simply pushed him back against the wall. His hands and his mouth were all combining to make Rafe lose his mind, and it didn't take long at all before Rafe completely lost control and came, right into his Captain's mouth, spurting forth and moaning and clutching the door.

The Captain did not remove his mouth but swallowed it all, sucking on him gently and holding onto him. He gently sucked him clean, and standing up, kissed Rafe on the mouth again. Rafe tasted his own come and eagerly and obediently licked it off the Captain's mouth.

The Captain leaned his forehead against Rafe's, looking into his eyes with fondness and a great deal of lust. "I take it you liked it, Rafe," he said, smiling.

Rafe could only nod and gulp. "That's all right. You're young yet, and you'll come back quickly. In the meantime, I'd like to have some of the same, do you mind?"

"Oh, no sir. I'd love to." And Rafe started to drop to his knees, but the Captain stopped him. 

"Not here." And he led him back to his chair, where the Captain sat, and spread his legs. "Come here, boy."

Rafe knelt between his legs and moved eagerly up to the offered kiss. The Captain roughly opened his own shirt and yanked it off, and Rafe followed suit, removing his shirt and dropping it on the floor. The kiss was much more urgent now, and he felt the Captain's teeth, and he bit the Captain's lip experimentally. Captain chuckled.

"Getting feisty, are we? This is what you want," and the Captain opened his pants. Out sprang a sizeable cock, jutting out from its nest of silken blond hair – what a difference from Rafe's own – already erect, and even leaking a little.

Rafe didn't hesitate, but immediately licked the fluids off the tip, and quickly took it into his mouth. The Captain groaned and leaned back in his chair. Rafe found this unbelievably hot, kneeling at the Captain's desk, work spread out all over the top, both of them half-dressed, Rafe's cock still hanging out, and going down on his Captain. He licked and sucked and took the massive cock into his mouth, and did everything he could to please his Captain.

The Captain just sat back and enjoyed it, "That's it, Rafe," he murmured. "Do you know how long I've been thinking of this? How long I've been wondering what your sweet mouth feels like?"

Rafe made a noise in his throat but continued sucking him down. The Captain put his hands on the back of Rafe's head and began pumping him up and down at his own pace. Rafe simply let go and let him.

Just when Rafe thought the Captain was about to come, the Captain stopped pumping him. Rafe's mouth was full of the Captain's cock, and he his nose was pressed into the blond hair. Still he breathed shallowly and waited. Gently the Captain lifted his head off. Looking into Rafe's eyes, he said, "I want more. Do you know what I'm talking about? Have you ever done that?"

Rafe nodded. "A few times, sir." He stood, and slid his pants down his legs. He was already erect again, from taking the Captain's cock in his mouth, and from the wanting.

"Hang on a moment, Rafe. Let me look at you. Turn around."

Rafe did so. He felt the Captain's hand across his back, his ass, and across his legs. "All those years of farm work..." He felt the Captain stand, and press his body against Rafe's. Rafe felt his cock pressing against his ass, and the Captain's arms roaming over his body. "Very nice," he sighed.

He kissed Rafe's ear and stepped around him. With one sweep of his arms, he cleared the desk of papers. "We'll clean it up later. Bend over the desk, Rafe."

"Yes, sir." Obediently he did so. The Captain adjusted him so his waist was against the edge of the desk and his cock pointed into the air under the desk. He heard the Captain kicking away his pants, and then he felt his ass cheeks being spread.

"I'm afraid I don't have quite the right thing for this, Rafe, but I do have some grease meant for cleaning weapons. I've used it before, it will do."

Rafe felt his asshole being covered with the grease. "All right, Rafe. Are you ready?"

"Please, sir. I want you to do whatever you want to me."

Groaning, the Captain pressed his cock up against Rafe's willing asshole and began to press inwards. It had been even longer for this for Rafe, and it took a bit, but slowly the Captain's cock began to slide in. Rafe felt some discomfort but no real pain, and just gripped the edge of the desk.

It was obvious the Captain was larger than Graham, though, and Rafe moaned as he began to be filled up. The Captain did not hurry, and applied liberal amounts of grease, but still, it was an incredible feeling. It seemed to take forever before he bottomed out in Rafe's asshole, and Rafe felt his hips press against him.

He felt the Captain's hand snake around his middle and wrap around his cock and Rafe's cock jumped a little in his hands. The Captain chuckled. "Still so eager, are we?" And he began to fuck Rafe in earnest. He started slow, as he had the kiss and everything else, but this time he built up quickly and in no time was pounding Rafe against the desk. Their grunts were soft and low, aware that much louder and people would hear them, but their pleasure was exquisite. Rafe's cock was being pumped mercilessly and the Captain kept up the timing perfectly, and it was incredibly hot to think of being fucked up the ass by his own Captain.




In the Army



The Captain began slamming ever harder into Rafe's ass, pulling out almost all of the way before pounding back in again. Rafe's nails dug into the desk as he bit the back of his hand to keep from crying out, and suddenly the Captain did cry out, and slam deep inside, and Rafe felt him coming. The thought and the feeling drove him over as well, and he spurted, through the Captain's hand, all over his floor. 

They stood, panting for a moment, and then the Captain leaned over and kissed the back of his neck. He withdrew, and helped Rafe stand up and turn around. He put his arms around Rafe, and Rafe responded, leaning his head on the Captain's shoulder.

"Stay the night, Rafe."

"Anything you want, Captain."

He heard the Captain chuckle. "I think, under the circumstances, when we're alone - you can call me Julian."



In the Attic



Characters in this story are over 18 years of age. Please, bring constructive criticism.

~~~~~~~~~~

Seven o'clock came, and I still couldn't sleep. Nikki was lying next to me, facing the opposite wall. I couldn't really tell if she was asleep despite her slow, even breathing. At least she had stopped sobbing. With the end of our lovemaking came a renewed calm, and my sister and I had turned from one another to sleep.

We had been trapped in the attic for nine days, most of which we spent looking for zombies out the slatted window. Zombies. There was simply no other word for them, and as we watched the street below, they continued shambling by in a slow and steady progression, though I don't think they were headed for the mall. We had sustained ourselves for five days on preserves before we dared to make a kitchen run.

Mom and Dad were dead. They had been eaten alive, my father screaming, "Run! Run! Get to the attic!" as the undead tore through the door. The house was loosely barricaded even at that point. We had been watching the news for three days as the outbreak spread, and so we had prepared the attic as a fallback shelter in case we lost the house. Now that shelter was our prison, and there was nothing Nikki and I could do but wait.

Wait for what? Well, that we didn't know. I was trying to be as rational about this as possible, but the only material I had to go on was fictional. Life imitates art and everything, but stuck in that attic with my sister, I couldn't be sure how much Night of the Living Dead mythology I could rely upon. And Nikki was not adjusting well. She didn't eat the first two nights, and didn't speak for the first four. She was never outside of four feet from me, and only at that range when one of us was using the rough "toilet" we had cordoned off in the corner. We slept together on an old mattress, lying in an old green sleeping bag. This was our pattern, and it continued unbroken for nine days. That night it happened.

We had readied the bed and lay down to sleep, facing the wall with the round slatted window. Nikki was lying in front of me, her petite frame nestled into me. There had never been any weirdness about it, even when I awoke several days with my erection pressed into her thighs, just below her ass. She never mentioned it, and so I never said anything. She was my sister, and "morning wood" was a normal bodily response to the unconscious urge to urinate. There was nothing funny about it. I had never even thought of Nikki that way.

So we were spooning, and she soon slipped into a seemingly peaceful sleep. Her left hand was over mine, resting on her ribs below the swell of her breasts, fingers gently entwined. She had on an old sweater, my mother's, and the old fabric was worn and soft, and reminded me of a shirt my girlfriend Melanie had owned. I supposed she was dead now, or would be soon, like Nikki and me. It was Melanie I thought of as I drifted to sleep, and it was Melanie in my dreams.

Melanie had been a beautiful girl. She had a sweet little heart-shaped face, her smooth, pale cheeks converging on a cherubic red smile. Her hair stood out second-most, hanging to her middle back, shining and hazel brown. It was so natural looking, it curled around her face, and the light always seemed to shimmer through it. Her eyes were light blue, bright and round; Innocent eyes that squinted so sweetly when we were intimate together. She had eyes that retained their innocence even while I fucked her. And that was my dream; no prelude, no story, just me and Melanie as we had been before the world came off its hinges.

It started with kissing. Her soft, supple lips pressed into mine, whetted, and pressed again. Her hot breath tickled my bottom lip as or necks craned together, and we were lost to passionate kissing. Our tongues rolled together like lovers in the dream, and gradually I became aware of my nudity, and our bodies pressed together. We were on a bed, and Melanie lay on her back, stripped completely bare. As I broke from the kiss, I arched my back and could see her splayed out below, her beautiful round breasts, the soft sweeping curves of her stomach, the gently curling pubic hair that marked the point where our bodies met, though I had not penetrated her yet. She looked at me with those beautiful eyes, rolling her hips against me.

I could feel her pussy, pressing against my shaft. It was warm, and so wet that each time we made contact it felt like a desperate, wanting mouth kissing gingerly at my cock. I looked at her. The light was blue, and everything was softened with the darkness except her eyes, and her mouth. There was a flash of white, two of her front teeth bit down on her bottom lip, beckoning me to enter her, and so I did. With a rough thrust, I slid my throbbing cock into her slick, welcoming canal. My thrust was punctuated by an odd sound, which seemed to come from somewhere else, but my sleep-addled brain could not comprehend or question, and so I continued thrusting into my sweet Melanie. The sound continued, and I felt an odd pressure on my left hand, when suddenly my perspective changed.

From being on top of Melanie, between her legs, I had somehow shifted to being behind her. And we were both now clothed. So it seemed to my nearly-conscious self as I continued thrusting, now to be greeted by an odd grunt coming from Nikki. Coming from Nikki. I was suddenly very awake, and felt Nikki's clenching grip on my hand as I pressed my throbbing cock at her, and so I stopped immediately. 

"Oh God, Nik', I'm so, so, sorry!" I stated emphatically, despite my grogginess. I tried to pull my hand away, but she held it tightly. Everything was dead silent, and as I was barely conscious, I nearly passed out again when she pressed her ass back into me and said desperately, "Don't stop." My hand, though still below hers, had migrated to her left breast, where she held it fast while gyrating her ass against me.

My cock had softened from embarrassment, and was still reluctant to rise so near my sister. She continued her hard, undulating grind, however, and her ministrations were definitely going to cause my cock to swell again. "Nikki," I groaned, "I... I can't do this... you're my sister." She made an aggravated moan as she continued, muttering a breathless, "Please..."

Her body just kept moving, and as my member solidified, and as she would not release my hand, I was in no real position to argue. I began to thrust in time with her, the friction of our mutual grinding eliciting a much greater response from Nikki. She had turned her face towards the pillow, and was growling, "Oh god, Oh god," repeatedly as we mimicked fucking. That was when she started crying. Her words became dragged out sobs, accompanied by tears and sniffling, and once again I tried to stop.

For a moment she was still as well, though she held her grip on my hand. She cried unashamedly, her breath coming in loud, ragged gasps, and harsh, noiseless exhalations. My penis was softening at a steady rate, and I tried to pull my lower body away from her, pulling my hand down onto her ribs in the same motion.

"No... no!" she growled, her voice heavy with frustration. "Don't stop, Leo... please don't stop. I need... I just need to feel something... not... not this. Don't you want some kind of release? Please, I want you to be inside me... I just need to feel something..."

"Nikki..." I muttered halfheartedly. Her grip loosened on my hand, and I slid it away from her. I propped myself up on one arm. She began sobbing again, wild, racking sobs, and unable to lie and watch her, I reached over with my left hand and pulled her face towards my own. I kissed her lips unexpectedly, and she failed to react, a second later voraciously kissing me back. As we kissed, she pulled with both hands to remove the shorts she had been sleeping in, dragging down her panties with them. I reached down and pulled off my jogging pants, and boxers.

She spread her thighs, and I knelt between them. She looked up at me nervously, her face glimmering with tear stains in the dim light. She looked beautiful. As if in slow motion she said, "Do it."

So I did.

With one arm supporting my weight, I used the other hand to guide my cock to her pussy. She was soaking wet, and as I pressed the tip against her it slid effortlessly toward the goal. I looked at her face as I penetrated her, her mouth opened in a gasp, her eyes half-lidded and rolled back, and I was buried in her. I began to move slowly in and out, now supporting myself on my elbows. She wrapped her arms around my neck, her eyes closed, an intermittent twinge of pain on her face as she adjusted to my width. As these subsided, I began fucking her harder and faster. Her gentle moans became halting grunts as I slammed the length of me in and out of her. She started crying again, but instructed me not to stop well before I even considered it, and as I slid into her, crystalline tears rolled down her cheeks.

"Come close..." she said, pulling on the back of my neck to bring me closer to her. I moved in, and as I fucked her, she began sobbing "I love you, I love you," in my ear.

"Nikki," I warned her, "I... I'm gonna cum."

"Okay... stay... stay inside me."

I thrust harder and faster than before, concentrating on the feeling of her pussy enclosing my cock, the friction as it ground against the walls of her, the heat of her there. I fucked her for everything I was worth, when there was an explosion of light in my head, my balls tingled and my shaft tightened, and I unloaded into her. I held my breath, clinging to my orgasm as swirling patterns of colored light invaded the periphery of my vision. And she held me throughout, coaxing me to breathe, and soothing me with the touch of her hands.

It became blurry what happened after that. We were somehow disengaged, and wordlessly held each other for a time, eventually turning to face opposite directions. I only remember after, as I settled in to face away from her, I heard her softly say, "Thank you."