0 comments/ 6848 views/ 0 favorites Memories By: Jazzbaby Slipping down the narrow hallway I turn off the light as I pass. The dark advances and I see that the room ahead is lit only by the television set, the volume set on low. I set my purse on a table and proceed to the kitchen with a handful of wild-flowers that I picked along the road. I see an empty beer bottle sitting on the counter, I rinse this out and put the flowers into the neck. Can something be warm and cozy and yet amusing at the same time? If so, then this is it. I take a glass out of the cupboard and draw myself a tall glass of water. I'm parched from the long hot drive. Taking the glass to the fridge I open the freezer, the cold air pours around me in an icy embrace. I reach for the ice trays and take the last cubes, plopping each into my glass one at a time. I drink the water down in nearly one long swallow. As I close the freezer door I feel your arms slip around my shoulders and your head rest against my neck. A comforting embrace from a very special friend. I thank you with a kiss to the top of your head. A gesture I've used with you many times before, always thanking you. You release me and we walk to the couch to settle in. I remove my shoes and curl my legs under me. I breathe a sigh and rest my head against the cushion. You reach for my hand and take it in your own. Stroking softly the back of my hand and telling me that you're glad to see me again. I smile at you and give your hand a squeeze. We fall silent. I can't help but stare ahead into nothing...but my mind is full of sights and sounds. My pain ebbs and flows through my heart and mind. You see this and move closer to put your arm around me. I lean against you, trying with all my might to hold back the tears that fight their way to my cheeks. You stroke my hair slowly and softly. A comforting gesture I've craved for weeks. I feel like a child being cuddled. I just need to be close to someone, to know that someone cares for me on any level. To have my burden of pain eased. I need to know the comfort of touch. To feel the pure physical. Making me feel as if I'm close to being alive. The phone is ringing and you rise to answer it, leaving me alone on the couch. I stretch out, pulling a pillow under my head. Closing my eyes the visions creep in again, invading my memories. I can't fight these and don't wish to. I sometimes feel that if I allow myself to feel as much pain as I can then I will finally heal. I hear you stepping up behind the couch and open my eyes to see you standing above me. Looking down at me. No expression on your face. You lean over the back of the couch and place a lingering kiss on my lips, putting your hand under my neck to raising me closer to you. The cushions I'm lying on sink under your weight as you place your hands on either side of me and climb over the back. Lying on top of me, we kiss again, the familiar savory kisses I once loved. Our lips become more insistent, urgent in the need for sensual pleasure. We pull away and I take your head in my hands. "Tell me....tell me what you're thinking...I need to hear it." "Tell me that I'm beautiful, sexy, desirable beyond control. I don't care if it's true...I just want to hear the words," I whisper to you. "I need for you to tell me what to do...what you want and when you want it. I want to fulfill your desires for tonight." You lower your head to my neck and kiss me, nipping my flesh and whisper the words I begged to hear. Your hand slips the straps of my dress down over my shoulder, pulling my dress down to expose my waiting breasts. Your kisses travel slowly down my neck to my nipples, taking each one in, in turn. I turn my mind off and let myself feel, just feel. Using the sensations to know life again. Your hand slips down my leg and draws my dress up over my thighs, slipping beneath and grasping my panties. Sitting up, you take my panties in both hands and pull them off, tossing them aside. While you're still kneeling over me, you remove your shirt and open your jeans. I sit up and take them by the waist and lower them to your knees, you stand and I take off the rest of your clothes. I raise my head, bringing my hands up to your hips and pull you closer to me. I kiss your belly and move down to bring your cock into my mouth. The taste I remember so well fills my mouth. I massage my tongue along your shaft and nip the head of your swollen dick. A few drips settle on my tongue, I spread the liquid around your head and draw you deep into my mouth. Closing my lips tighter around you and sliding them in steady succession. Your hands are in my hair, guiding my head, keeping me stable in my movements. Stopping me before you cum, you push me back onto the couch. Kneeling between my legs, pushing my dress up once again, you lower your head between my thighs. I moan and close my eyes, your warm moist tongue taking me away to places I haven't been in a very long time. I feel you exploring me, tempting and teasing my senses. I stroke your hair while you take your time in creating delectation. I can take no more...I know that I need to feel you inside of me...I pull you up and lay against the cushions, you climb between my legs and lower yourself with ease and we come together. The strong pressure I feel is heaven to me for now. Your heat between my legs is filling me. I wrap my legs around you and grab your shoulders, digging my nails in. I can't help myself, I raise my head and bite your shoulder. The sensation that overtakes my entire body is indescribable. I feel as if I'm being pushed and pulled into another realm. I can't seem to get close enough to your body. We rock to each others' rhythm, your heart beating against my chest is pounding hard and strong. We kiss, tongues tasting, lips pressing and I feel myself cumming, slow at first as if unsure, then like a wave that washes me away. You pull away and turn me over...pushing your cock into my ass and pulsing rhythmically until you reach your own climax. I had nearly forgotten how sexy this fete was, how much I had missed it. You lie on top of me, arms along my sides, hands against my hips. I feel your rapid breathing against my shoulder, your heart beating hard and steady against my spine. I realize that your courage has it's limits and that you couldn't bring yourself to be as rough with me as you once were. Knowing this type of loving is often what I crave. But this time you held back. Being as gentle as you dared, yet making sure I knew I was being made love to by a strong vital man. You ease off of me, sliding between me and the back of the couch. You take me in your arms, holding me close. We fall asleep this way, your soft snores once again against my neck. Tomorrow when we wake, we will love again, in a long extended "kiss" good morning. Memories Slipping down the narrow hallway I turn off the light as I pass. The dark advances and I see that the room ahead is lit only by the television set, the volume set on low. I set my purse on a table and proceed to the kitchen with a handful of wild-flowers that I picked along the road. I see an empty beer bottle sitting on the counter, I rinse this out and put the flowers into the neck. Can something be warm and cozy and yet amusing at the same time? If so, then this is it. I take a glass out of the cupboard and draw myself a tall glass of water. I'm parched from the long hot drive. Taking the glass to the fridge I open the freezer, the cold air pours around me in an icy embrace. I reach for the ice trays and take the last cubes, plopping each into my glass one at a time. I drink the water down in nearly one long swallow. As I close the freezer door I feel your arms slip around my shoulders and your head rest against my neck. A comforting embrace from a very special friend. I thank you with a kiss to the top of your head. A gesture I've used with you many times before, always thanking you. You release me and we walk to the couch to settle in. I remove my shoes and curl my legs under me. I breathe a sigh and rest my head against the cushion. You reach for my hand and take it in your own. Stroking softly the back of my hand and telling me that you're glad to see me again. I smile at you and give your hand a squeeze. We fall silent. I can't help but stare ahead into nothing...but my mind is full of sights and sounds. My pain ebbs and flows through my heart and mind. You see this and move closer to put your arm around me. I lean against you, trying with all my might to hold back the tears that fight their way to my cheeks. You stroke my hair slowly and softly. A comforting gesture I've craved for weeks. I feel like a child being cuddled. I just need to be close to someone, to know that someone cares for me on any level. To have my burden of pain eased. I need to know the comfort of touch. To feel the pure physical. Making me feel as if I'm close to being alive. The phone is ringing and you rise to answer it, leaving me alone on the couch. I stretch out, pulling a pillow under my head. Closing my eyes the visions creep in again, invading my memories. I can't fight these and don't wish to. I sometimes feel that if I allow myself to feel as much pain as I can then I will finally heal. I hear you stepping up behind the couch and open my eyes to see you standing above me. Looking down at me. No expression on your face. You lean over the back of the couch and place a lingering kiss on my lips, putting your hand under my neck to raising me closer to you. The cushions I'm lying on sink under your weight as you place your hands on either side of me and climb over the back. Lying on top of me, we kiss again, the familiar savory kisses I once loved. Our lips become more insistent, urgent in the need for sensual pleasure. We pull away and I take your head in my hands. "Tell me....tell me what you're thinking...I need to hear it." "Tell me that I'm beautiful, sexy, desirable beyond control. I don't care if it's true...I just want to hear the words," I whisper to you. "I need for you to tell me what to do...what you want and when you want it. I want to fulfill your desires for tonight." You lower your head to my neck and kiss me, nipping my flesh and whisper the words I begged to hear. Your hand slips the straps of my dress down over my shoulder, pulling my dress down to expose my waiting breasts. Your kisses travel slowly down my neck to my nipples, taking each one in, in turn. I turn my mind off and let myself feel, just feel. Using the sensations to know life again. Your hand slips down my leg and draws my dress up over my thighs, slipping beneath and grasping my panties. Sitting up, you take my panties in both hands and pull them off, tossing them aside. While you're still kneeling over me, you remove your shirt and open your jeans. I sit up and take them by the waist and lower them to your knees, you stand and I take off the rest of your clothes. I raise my head, bringing my hands up to your hips and pull you closer to me. I kiss your belly and move down to bring your cock into my mouth. The taste I remember so well fills my mouth. I massage my tongue along your shaft and nip the head of your swollen dick. A few drips settle on my tongue, I spread the liquid around your head and draw you deep into my mouth. Closing my lips tighter around you and sliding them in steady succession. Your hands are in my hair, guiding my head, keeping me stable in my movements. Stopping me before you cum, you push me back onto the couch. Kneeling between my legs, pushing my dress up once again, you lower your head between my thighs. I moan and close my eyes, your warm moist tongue taking me away to places I haven't been in a very long time. I feel you exploring me, tempting and teasing my senses. I stroke your hair while you take your time in creating delectation. I can take no more...I know that I need to feel you inside of me...I pull you up and lay against the cushions, you climb between my legs and lower yourself with ease and we come together. The strong pressure I feel is heaven to me for now. Your heat between my legs is filling me. I wrap my legs around you and grab your shoulders, digging my nails in. I can't help myself, I raise my head and bite your shoulder. The sensation that overtakes my entire body is indescribable. I feel as if I'm being pushed and pulled into another realm. I can't seem to get close enough to your body. We rock to each others' rhythm, your heart beating against my chest is pounding hard and strong. We kiss, tongues tasting, lips pressing and I feel myself cumming, slow at first as if unsure, then like a wave that washes me away. You pull away and turn me over...pushing your cock into my ass and pulsing rhythmically until you reach your own climax. I had nearly forgotten how sexy this fete was, how much I had missed it. You lie on top of me, arms along my sides, hands against my hips. I feel your rapid breathing against my shoulder, your heart beating hard and steady against my spine. I realize that your courage has it's limits and that you couldn't bring yourself to be as rough with me as you once were. Knowing this type of loving is often what I crave. But this time you held back. Being as gentle as you dared, yet making sure I knew I was being made love to by a strong vital man. You ease off of me, sliding between me and the back of the couch. You take me in your arms, holding me close. We fall asleep this way, your soft snores once again against my neck. Tomorrow when we wake, we will love again, in a long extended "kiss" good morning. Memories ... She closed her eyes as she remembered his touch. She loved the way his hands felt on her bare skin. She could feel his fingers running along her sides, her hips, her legs. She also loved the way his lips felt on her neck, her ears, her lips. As she layed there remembering, chills ran up and down her body. She didn’t realize that her fingers were running lightly over her hardening nipples. She vividly remembered him kissing her neck and ears; his hands trailing down from her collar bone to her hips; fingers tracing down over her inner thigh. With these thoughts in her head, she let her hands retrace the steps she was remembering so longingly. She imagined his hands as her fingers ran across her neck lightly... lightly trailing down she let her fingers trace small slow circles around her hard nipples. She arched her back toward her own hand. But it wasn’t her hand, not in her minds eye. He was there with her; alighting every single one of her nerves on fire; just like he always could and did. She wanted more. "Touch me, please.” She delved further into her subconscious and there he was, lying next to her, his hands softly yet firmly exploring every inch of her. His hands cupping her breasts as his lips trail light teasing kisses along her neck and chest. He pinches her nipples between his strong fingers, rolling them gently as she moans softly. Slowly, almost agonizingly so, his hand slides down from her breast to her stomach, inching, inching, across her stomach, her belly, over to her hip. His hand rests there for a moment as his lips meet hers. Her hands run up his chest and over his shoulders, she intertwines her fingers in his hair as their kiss deepens. She feels his hand slide down her thigh, the only memory of his touch being the burning feeling in every nerve ending. He gently urges her thighs apart slightly. He then traces her lips with the tips of his fingers. She whimpers softly against his lips. VERY gradually, his fingers find their way to her moist center. He runs his fingers up and down slowly, feeling her wetness. she moans softly as she gyrates her hips against his hand. He teases her relentlessly until she's begging. But begging for what? "What do you want Susan?" She breaths deeply and says ".. please.." "Please?" he asks. "Please what?" She shudders and says "I want... " He smiles and asks "what does Susan want?" He trails light brushing kisses along her neck. She shivers and says: "I want to feel you inside me.." She closes her eyes as his finger penetrates her slowly; her breath catches as he thrusts deeper, curling his fingers up. She thrusts her hips toward his hand, aching to feel him more fully. Her legs quivering, her breathing more labored she breathlessly whispers "Please.. I want you to fuck me..." He continued thrusting his fingers inside her wet pussy. Her body quivering, her hips thrusting back toward him. Suddenly she felt empty. She opens her eyes as he spreads her legs further and positions himself between them. She shivers as she anticipates what is going to happen next.. She reaches down and parts her lips for him to enter. She feels the head of his cock against her opening. She gasps as he slowly slides inside her. Her hands run up his chest to his shoulders where her fingers dig in. She arches toward him as he fills her completely. Her head goes back as he at first slowly slides his hard cock in and out of her tight pussy. Her breathing becoming more labored as she meets him thrust for thrust. She loves the feeling of her pussy around his cock; the feeling of being completely filled by him. Her hands running over his back, her fingers digging into his ass as he fucks her harder, almost splashing in her wetness. Her head was rolling side to side; gasping, moaning, begging him to fuck her harder; to make her cum. He fucks her harder, his sweat dripping onto her breasts and chest. "Your hard cock feels so incredible.." she says between breaths. "Don’t stop.. I’m gonna cum.. " He begins to thrust harder and faster; his breathing labored. "That’s it baby.. cum for me.." he pants. She tilts her head back as her fingers dig into his back; feeling his hard cock in her wet pussy, it begins to contract. Her body tenses and her breath catches.. "Oh god.. I'm cumming...” He feels her pussy contract hard around his cock, almost making it impossible to move, her body bucks up toward him. She shivers uncontrollably as her orgasm rips thru her entire body. He thrusts harder. "Your pussy is so tight; feels so good.." He feels his balls tightening, he cant hold it any longer. Seeing her writhe with passion and her intense orgasm, he pulls out and begins to jerk off; her orgasm subsiding slightly as he shoots hot thick stream after stream onto her breasts and stomach. He collapses against her as they catch their breath. She continues to lay there, her breathing slowly returning to normal. Her fingertips lightly running along her wet pussy; her last thought before she falls asleep: "I miss you.." Memories Weary from the last battle, alone after witnessing the deaths of my comrades by sword and spell, I trudged onward, picking my way carefully through the moonlit forest, attempting to remain as silent as possible and avoid detection by anyone on the nearby roads. My own reserves of power were faltering after the day-long battle, and the visions of the near-massacre in my mind kept draining more and more of my own energy. I doubtless needed to renew myself, but that required food, drink, and rest; the best I could do was to snatch berries from the bushes as I fought my way along the crowded forest floor. Those were luxuries I could not afford while still within King Harmend's territory. By instinct, I suddenly froze, nearly holding my breath. My ears strained, my eyes attempted to focus clearly, my nose silently sniffed the air for signs of others. For several minutes, I held my position, a hand on my dagger, a spell of self-protection on the tip of my tongue. Just as I was about to relax from my nerve-straining posture, I heard it clearly. Off to the left, I heard a strained whimper. Whispering a spell of night-sight, I slowly picked my way through the brush and around the huge trees in the direction of the whimper. As I approached, I realized that it was a Human whimper, probably female. Most likely a captive. Instantly, memories flooded my head. Repeatedly violated. Flogged for hours. Open cuts and other wounds all over me. Cut open for blood for dark rituals. Nibbled on by rats and other small rodents. Ropes tightly bound around me. Shackled to the never-washed stone wall of the dungeon cell. The spits, the leers, the evil smiles, the pawing, the smacks, the fists... Two months of hell which gave me the inner strength necessary to become a notable mage, notable even despite the birthright which my body would no longer allow me to claim. Clearly, I could see her: a beautiful young woman, fairly clean (either held for a while to be readied for the slave trade, or just captured hours before), nude, hair flowing over her shoulders to her lower ribs, gagged, ropes wound intricately around her body in strangely-beautiful patterns, arms chained above her head to a sturdy tree branch. Clearly, I could see him: a handsome young man, sitting upon a log or a rock, his back to me, most of him hidden by a thick bush, simply watching her struggle. When she whimpered again, he gave a low chuckle of amusement. I whispered a spell of silence about me, drew my dagger, and mentally prepared a halting spell. Waiting, I watched as the slaver stood, nude, and slowly walked over to the helpless young woman. He reached out slowly, caressed her cheek, then turned back to the thick bush. Moments later, he approached her with a small whip in his hand, and her eyes grew large. Taking this as my cue, I rushed toward the helpless young woman and her captor. Yet when her eyes glared at me, I stopped. Following her line of sight, the young man - still nude - turned to face me, eyes narrowed. "Why do you disturb us?" he challenged, his desire to be left alone very clear in his strong voice. My presence now known, the spell of silence had terminated. I could hear myself step upon a twig as I took a step backward. I looked at the young woman and again fell victim to her angered glare. My mind was racing, trying to figure out what was truly happening here. "Leave us." Not a command, but a definite threat. "Do you intend to sell her?" I demanded as best as I could through my confusion. The spells I had just cast had further lowered my energy levels, and I could hear the difference in my voice. "I sell no one." Said with strong authority and deep conviction. "Leave us." "Let her speak," I counterchallenged. "If you have nothing to fear from me, allow your captive to speak freely." Without hesitation, the young man returned to the young woman and loosened the gag so that it hung about her neck. "Leave us," the captive ordered, eyes narrowed, anger in her voice. "We are here of our own free will. Go." I again thought of my own experience, those two months of hell, so long ago. Feeling myself on the final dregs of personal power, I cast a spell to determine if what the young woman said was the truth. She was not lying. "Please excuse my intrusion," I said as graciously as possible, adding a small bow for a minor flourish. With that, I continued hacking my way through the forest, grabbing berries from the bushes as I progressed back toward my father's kingdom, an important lesson learned. Memories The house stood in a quiet suburb of Paris. It called itself a house of assignation rather than a brothel. In the salon, an aging man quietly played the piano. Madam walked into the salon. "Monsieur, what is wrong? Can we do anything for you?" The man continued playing. "Thank you madam, but I do not think there is anything you can do." "Perhaps … let me see … perhaps a nice Chinese girl?" The man paused in his playing and raised his eyes from the keys. Her name had been Kim … ----- He had met her at a conference in Singapore. They used to call them sarong girls, because a sarong is so easy to take off. He had walked into the bar alone. He had ordered a bottle of champagne and asked for two glasses. Then it was just a matter of making eye contact. She walked over and perched on the bar stool next to him. He poured her a drink, which she sipped slowly. Her eyes never left him, devouring his rugged good looks, his Armani suit and his Rolex watch. She finished her drink and inclined her head towards the elevator. They had not exchanged a word. He left his drink and walked over to the elevator. He did not look to see whether she was following. He got in the escalator and pressed for the 14th floor. She was close behind and pressed against him as the escalator door closed. She wore a cheong sam – high at the throat but the side of her skirt was slit to her waist. He ran his finger, very lightly, up her thigh. She started to breath more deeply. He slipped his hand under the front of her skirt. Her pussy had been shaved and her slit was moist. She was not wearing panties. She turned towards him and he felt her hard nipples pressing through the thin fabric of her dress. She reached for the zipper on his trousers, but he put his hand on hers to stop her from opening his fly. The elevator seemed to take hours to reach his floor. She began to moan gently as he finger fucked her. His room was opposite the elevator and they were inside in seconds. Suddenly, a look of mischief crept into her eyes and she moved away from him. Slowly, teasingly, she began to undo the buttons of her cheong sam. He watched avidly as the garment slipped to the floor, revealing her golden body in its full glory. She moved back across the room and slowly undid his belt, then the waistband of his trousers, then his zip. Her eyes widened as she saw the size of his erect prick. With a sudden, sharp movement she pulled down his trousers and underpants. She dropped to her knees in front of him. Taking his prick in both hands, she began by nuzzling and kissing his balls. Her tongue slowly moved up his scrotum until she was licking the base of his shaft. Cupping his balls with her hands, she continued to move her lips and tongue higher until she was able to take the head of his prick into her mouth. Meanwhile, he took off his jacket and tie, and slowly unbuttoned his shirt. A less practiced debauchee might have torn his buttons in his haste to undress. Monsieur knew he could take his time. He draped his clothes over a chair. The warm softness of her mouth was starting to excite him. He reached down and gently removed her mouth from his prick. Taking her hand, he raised her from the floor and led her towards the bed. Once again, she surprised him. With a sudden twist she turned him round and gently pushed him on to the bed. She climbed on top of his erect prick. He watched her dark brown nipples as she bounced up and down on top of him. She was moaning deeply now and the scream as she came released his own, explosive orgasm. He could feel the muscles of her pussy tightening and loosening as she sucked him dry. She collapsed across him like a doll, and for a while they lay in each other's arms. They talked then. Her name was Kim and she was a graduate, working in an office. Her job was very boring but she was paid well and had a good chance of promotion. She did her job, then she dressed up and went out to look for a taste of good life. But Monsieur was holding a beautiful, young girl naked in his arms and he did not plan to spend the evening in conversation. He raised her from the bed and led her to the shower. They soaped each other gently. His prick again grew hard as she rubbed it. He spread a towel on the bathroom floor and laid her down. The he entered her once again. Her hips bucked against him as he thrust and lunged. Her back arched and she screamed as she came once more. His balls contracted violently as he again shot his load into her pussy. ----- He turned to the Madam. "Thank you madam, but I have had a Chinese girl." He resumed his playing. "Perhaps a nice Dutch girl?" she said. The man paused in his playing and raised his eyes from the keys. Her name had been Anna … ----- He had been in Amsterdam, sitting in a brown café enjoying a coffee. In those days you could buy marijuana quite easily in the brown cafés and the girl at the next table was obviously high. She was strikingly attractive. A cap of brown hair framed a pale face with a small nose and lambent green eyes. She was well-built, although no-one could call her fat. Her tits were magnificent. She noticed his eyes upon her. The moment of truth – how would she react? She walked over and asked if he had a light for her joint, which had gone out. She noticed that he lit it with a gold Dunhill lighter. She sat down at his table and ordered a coffee. She was a student and had broken up with her boyfriend about three months ago. He had wanted commitment, but she had wanted to have some fun before it was time to take on any responsibility. She had had a few one night stands since then, but it was a couple of weeks since she had last had sex. As she told him that, her eyes met Monsieur's and she moistened her top lip with her tongue. He paid the bill and they left the café. They walked by the canals, talking softly. They sat on a bench and kissed with increasing passion. Her tongue pushed deep into his mouth. He slipped his hand under her wraparound denim skirt. Her panties were soaked in her juices. He slipped his finger under her panties and into her pussy. Suddenly she stood up and pulled his arm, looking towards a canal-side hotel. They took a room at the very top of the hotel. Canal-side hotels in Amsterdam are built tall and narrow, with steep narrow stairs. His fingers explored her pussy and asshole as they lurched up the stairs. Before they reached their room he pushed her to the stairs, pulled down her panties and fastened his hungry mouth on her eager pussy. She laughed and moaned at the same time, as she told him they had to be quiet. She tried to muffle her screams as she came. They heard footsteps on the stairs and, laughing, she grabbed his arm and pulled him into their room. Her panties were still around her knees and he pulled them off as he pushed her onto the large, old-fashioned bed. Tearing off his trousers and underpants he jumped on the bed and rammed his prick into her wet pussy. They both urgently wanted it, and he thrust into her even though both were still wearing most of their clothes. Her moans grew louder until she screamed as she came. He came at the same time. She went to the bathroom and brought back a towel for them to clean themselves up. He took off her skirt and top. She was not wearing a bra and her wonderful tits stuck out in front of her. He took off his jacket and tie while she, with teasing bites and pinches, undid the buttons of his shirt and took it off. When they were both naked he started kissing and nibbling her nipples. The aureoles were large and pink. While he played with her tits, she gently stroked his prick until it started to get hard. She went down on her knees by the bed. Instead of putting his prick in her mouth, as she expected, he put it between her tits. Holding them together, she titty fucked him until his prick was once again rock solid. Only then did he release her tits and offer up his prick to her eager tongue, pausing only to touch each of her nipples in turn with the head. She licked and sucked him until his climax came near. Then he stood and lifted her from the floor. Bending her over the bed, he entered her from the rear. She gasped as he thrust into her. The bed shook as he slammed into her faster and faster. She was gasping and moaning until she finally came with a great shudder. He took his prick out of her pussy and came over her back, in a great jet of cum that reached to her shoulder blades. ----- He turned to the Madam. "Thank you madam, but I have had a Dutch girl." He resumed his playing. "Perhaps a nice American girl?" she said. The man paused in his playing and raised his eyes from the keys. Her name had been Alicia … ----- He had been at a party in New York. When she walked in the room, every man's eyes turned to her. She was very tall, blond and suntanned. She had the longest legs he had ever seen. She wore a white blouse and a short black skirt. She sashayed to the cocktail bar and insolently surveyed the men in the room. Monsieur was amused but not very interested – she was trying too hard to be the centre of attention and he was talking to a rather cute black girl. But her eyes stayed on him and, when the girl he had been talking to walked away, she strolled over. "I'm Alicia," she said "and I want to fuck you. Lets split". Now Monsieur was intrigued. She was absolutely beautiful and she had chosen him as a bedmate out of a room full of wealthy men. The honey-coloured hair was natural, as were the white teeth. She had blue eyes. Her tits thrust firmly forward over a slim waist. The legs went on and on. "Satisfied?" she said. "Come on." She took him by the arm and led him to the door. His limousine pulled up and her eyes showed her surprise at its size and luxury. He helped her into the back of the limo and she lowered the privacy screen separating the driver from the passengers. Then she was all over him. Her left hand snaked under the waistband of his trousers to seize his stiffening cock. With her right hand, she impatiently undid the buttons of her blouse. Meanwhile, her black skirt had ridden up to reveal a white lace thong. Monsieur undid his belt and the waistband of his trousers. Ignoring the zip, she pushed his trousers and underpants down to his knees. Monsieur inserted his finger in her pussy. It was deep and very wet. She pushed her clit against his hand while massaging his shaft. Monsieur was not used to such an aggressive partner but decided to play along. He eased off his trousers and underpants, and removed his jacket, shirt and tie. Meanwhile Alicia had gone down onto her knees and taken his prick into her mouth. Monsieur took off her blouse and bra. Holding her shoulders, he pushed himself forward until he was kneeling over Alicia, who was lying on the floor of the limo. Allowing his prick to remain in her mouth, he slowly turned his body until her pussy was in front of him. Ignoring her skirt, he pushed her thong to the side and fastened his mouth on her pussy. She arched her body upwards as her lips and tongue worked even faster on his prick as his rough tongue brushed across her clit. Taking her mouth away from his prick, she cried "God, I am cumming!" She put both hands on his prick as her pelvis bucked up and down. She screamed as she came. Monsieur followed, shooting his load all over her face. She ran her tongue naughtily round her lips to lick off the cum. Monsieur rose and helped her off the floor. He took off her skirt and thong before helping her into the seat. He reached into the mini-bar and took out a couple of martinis. He gave one to her. She took a quick gulp. "I needed that," she said, "so what is your name anyway." Monsieur sipped his martini as they talked. She was from California. She was Personal Assistant to an executive in a Wall Street firm. Her boss liked her to wear short skirts and asked her to bend over a lot to pick things up or to get papers from the files. Which was fine – she enjoyed showing herself off and she sometimes gave him a thrill by not wearing any panties. She would not let him do anything else though. He was too fat, too sweaty and too married. None of which stopped him trying to corner her in the office. He sometimes tried to get her hot by talking dirty to her. That was why she was so horny today. Her boss had called her into his office to take dictation and then told her how he wanted to take her down to his beach house, strip her naked on the sand and fuck her in her pussy and ass until she screamed with pleasure. She had become aroused even though she had no interest in him. Then he had taken her with him to the cocktail party. Picking up Monsieur had given her a chance to deal with her sexual arousal as well as revenge on her boss. They finished their drinks and dropped the glasses on the limo floor. Monsieur pushed Alicia back onto the seat. He teased her nipples with his lips and teeth, while rubbing her clit with his finger. She moaned under him. He moved his mouth higher, nuzzling her throat. She reached for his hand, pushing it hard against her clit. Removing his hand, he spread her legs apart. He entered her and those wonderful legs wrapped themselves around his hips as he thrust his prick in and out of her pussy. He slammed into her faster and faster until they came together. ----- He turned to the Madam. "Thank you madam, but I have had an American girl." He resumed his playing. "Perhaps a nice Japanese girl?" she said. The man paused in his playing and raised his eyes from the keys. Her name had been Kiko … ----- It had been in a bathhouse in Osaka. Many bathhouses are entirely respectable, but this one had a certain reputation to those who knew about such things. He went in, got undressed and put on the brief robe offered by the attendant. In Japan you have to wash before getting into the bath and the attendant led him through to the washing area. She was wearing a very short robe that gaped open at the front, offering him a tantalising glimpse of the small tits inside with their hard nipples. He undressed and lay face down on the slab. She started to soap him, starting with his arms and shoulders and gradually moving down his back. She smelt of soap and sweat with a sexual overtone. As she reached his buttocks, she flashed him a teasing smile and moved round to wash his feet and legs. Her hands moved up his calves to his thighs. She finally reached his buttocks, and her finger gently played with his asshole. Then she stood up and indicated that he should turn over. She smiled broadly as she saw his erect prick standing up like a flagpole. She returned to his feet and started to wash them, again moving slowly up his calves and thighs. As she reached the top of his thighs, her fingers fluttered around his prick. Sometimes she would touch his scrotum or his prick, but this always seemed to be an accident. Her smile got wider as his prick got harder. He could see her excitement as her nipples hardened. Then she stopped and moved round to his head. She started by washing his shoulders and chest. As she moved lower down his body, she climbed onto the slab and straddled him. The further she moved down his body, the more her robe fell open. Finding her small tits pointed at his face, he opened his lips and started to suck on her nipples. She moaned softly as he flicked her nipples with his tongue. She moved further down his body and he put his tongue into her navel as she washed his stomach. Her body started to writhe with excitement. At last she reached his prick. As she gently lathered his balls, her pussy came level with his mouth. Her pubic hair was thick and dark. He gently took a grip on a single hair with his teeth and pulled it out, causing her to start suddenly. Then his tongue reached her clit and she gasped and took his prick into her mouth. Her pussy tasted of honey with a touch of salt. He found the smell of her womanhood very erotic. Meanwhile, she licked and sucked his prick. After a few minutes 69, she slid forward and inserted his prick in her pussy. As she thrust against him, he put his finger into her asshole to tighten the pressure. She gasped and her movements got faster and faster. Finally he shot his load into her. After his climax, she got up and returned to washing him. She gently sponged his prick and balls until they were clean and then she bowed to him. However, Monsieur was not finished. He got up quickly and bent her over the slab. She gasped as he again put his prick in her pussy and his finger in her ass. When his prick was wet with her juices he took it out of her pussy and put it in her asshole. She reached under her body and fingered her clit as he rammed into her. She pushed back against him and her moans grew louder. Finally she climaxed with a great scream. As he pulled out, she leant on the slab for a moment. Then she recovered herself and smiled very prettily at him. She went down on her knees and once again she washed his prick and balls. Then she engulfed his prick with her hot mouth and sucked and licked him to another orgasm. She swallowed his cum before cleaning him up one last time. ----- He turned to her. "Thank you madam, but I have had a Japanese girl." "Monsieur," she said, "I am sorry but I do not know what I can do for you." The, suddenly animated, he turned to her. "Perhaps, I do not know if it is possible, perhaps if I could have a goat?" Madam was shocked. Monsieur had been a good customer for many years and she felt for his pain. But her girls would not like it, the neighbours would not like it and the police – les flics – would not like it. She spoke to him, her voice suddenly strict. "Monsieur, what you ask is not possible. I must ask you to leave immediately or I will call a gendarme." His shoulders slumped and the light went out of his eyes. He stood slowly and shuffled towards the door. Before opening it, he turned to her and spoke one last time. "Madam, … … I have had a gendarme." Memories Damn you Victor! I shot my husband of almost ten years an accusatory glance. Why did he have to mess this up for me? The worst part was; he was doing this in good faith, the sweetie. I mean, how many wives wouldn't want their husband to hire an artist to paint their portrait? But, I wasn't just any wife. Portraits and other art I had solicited littered the house and bedroom already. These paintings were by artists I picked out. They were all slim, delicate, pretty boys I picked up from the art shows around town. It wasn't really cheating. They were just dalliances; only lasting as long enough for them to realize their potential. It wasn't sex. I thought of it as my contribution to the arts. And this new artist, Thomas, was so sexy I could eat him up. His hair was a little shorter than I liked, but he kept it wild and unruly, which more than made up for its shortcomings in length. He was slim with dark eyes that seemed to drink in all the surroundings as if he were seeing everything for the first time. His skin was pale from spending too much time in the studio. His clothes and hands were marred by brilliant blues, oranges, and yellows. His fingers were long artist's fingers I yearned to feel on my body. I should have been seducing him. Instead, I was sitting primly. Posing- while my husband watched from the corner of the room. I fumed and stewed, all the while wishing there were some way to get my husband out of the room so I could seduce this little pretty. Sitting there, I imagined half a dozen ways to do it. If my husband would go out for lunch, I would have given the young artist a blow job before he returned. I wanted much more than that of course, but the thought of it, of doing it under my husband's very own nose with an artist he selected, was making me wet. I was so turned on, that my nipples were pressing out from the thin silk robe I was wrapped in. I had to hold my pose, so I couldn't move. I glanced at my husband out of the corner of my eye to see if he'd noticed. Oh God, he was staring right at them. Yeah, he'd noticed alright! "You know Thomas," my husband said. "I think this pose you have her in, seems to be lacking something that's in the other paintings of my wife." "I don't think so." Thomas glanced at the other pictures then back at his canvas. His look was haughty and dismissive. No artist wants to hear someone say their work is inferior. Victor stood up and walked behind Thomas, looking at me over the young artist's shoulder. "Yes," he said. "I'm quite sure. Something's definitely missing." What was going on? Did he know? Had this all been an elaborate ruse to expose my infidelity? I could feel my face growing warm as Victor came behind me and tilted my chin so that I stared into Thomas's gray eyes. "Now arms up and run your fingers through your hair," Victor encouraged. "Great . . . keep them there. And only one last thing." I couldn't believe what he did next! He moved in front of me, took my knee and placed my leg over the arm of the chair, fully exposing my sex to both he and the artist. My husband stood back, framed my body between his fingers and said, "Perfect. I think we've captured what was missing now. The 'I'm seducing the artist' look." To Thomas: "Don't you Thomas?" I felt dizzy and my face was beyond warm, it was hot. There was only one explanation. He had found out. This was exactly the pose I used a few months ago with Pierre, the last artist I seduced. I was scared, mortified, and yet I was also wet. I took a deep breath, exhaled in an attempt to relax, steeling myself for whatever lay in store. Victor stood behind Thomas, watching the young man paint. And Thomas, the poor kid was oblivious to our interaction. He should have suspected something was wrong . . . but all he cared about was the painting. Victor stood there for a moment, started tsking, and then shook his head and muttering, "Something's still not right. The bottom of your robe should be open more." I moved to reach down, but he stopped me. "No, honey, hold your pose. Thomas, be a good fellow and open the bottom of her robe a little more." "But sir, I. . ." Thomas stuttered, clearly uncomfortable. Victor took the brush from his hand and gave him a little push. "Be a good fellow now." Thomas walked slowly. He was slightly stooped and the reason was quite obvious, judging by the bulge in his pants. Not touching me, he carefully pulled the bottom of the robe apart. "That's great Thomas," Victor said. "But drape the upper part against her hips so it's a little more seductive and less obvious. This is going up on the wall, and I don't think I want the world to think my wife is a slut." The part of the robe Victor was having him move, was inches from my crotch. Thomas tried, but the slick material of the robe kept sliding down. His trembling fingers weren't helping matters either. "Having problems," Victor asked, causing Thomas and I to both jump. My husband had moved so quietly and quickly behind Thomas, that neither of us had been aware of his presence. "There's a trick to that you know." Victor reached around Thomas, trapping the small framed young man within his huge arms. He delved his thick finger in my sex, causing me to gasp. Victor smiled and withdrew a wet finger from my sex. Drying his moistened finger on my pelvis, when he put the robe in place, it stayed. Thomas was doing his best not to look, his scared eyes darted around the room. "You seem stressed Thomas," Victor asked, hiding the young artist shoulders beneath his palms. "Be a good fellow and stand up for me." Thomas blushed and stood. "Dear," Victor said. "Why don't you help Thomas relieve some stress? I know you know how." I knew quite well, but I had no idea what kind of game my husband was playing at. He was clearly in charge of this, that much was certain. After undoing Thomas's pants, I pushed them and his underwear down to his knees. His balls had drawn up, so I pulled at them until they lay cradled in my hand. His beautiful smooth cock was hard and begging for my touch. I couldn't resist sticking my nose into his pubic hair and smelling his spicy scent, momentarily forgetting where I was and the situation with my husband. "I'm much larger, you know . . ." It was Victor whispering in my ear. He didn't sound mad . . . just curious. And it was obvious he knew of some of my prior dalliances. It was time to come clean. "I know honey," I said. "But, just look at it. It's perfect." And it was. It was smooth and slender, and fit easily in my hand. Its purple plum shaped head was bared with no foreskin to protect it. It had a delightful curve. "It's so hard to take you in my mouth, and I can't take you all the way. But with this . . . it's just the perfect size. I can do anything with it I want. Watch. . ." I took the plum shaped head between my lips and sucked, teasing the underside with my tongue. And then I grabbed two handfuls of Thomas's smooth tight buttocks, and then pushed him all the way in my mouth. The curly dark hair of his pubes tickled my nose and the head of his cock rested gently against the back of my throat. I could have sucked him all day. A living lollipop. I went up and down his shaft a few times and he grew harder in my mouth. When I popped it out of my mouth, it stood at attention like a good little soldier. "See," I told Victor. "No way could I do that to yours." Victor didn't look mad at all. Instead he looked amused by the whole thing. "I believe my wife loves your cock," he said to Thomas. "Are you enjoying your little blowjob?" "Yes," Thomas replied, his voice husky and wavering. "Yes, sir..." Victor said. "Yes . . . sir," Thomas stammered. I resumed working on Thomas's cock, determined to bend it to my will. The poor young man was grunting even louder than I expected, so I stopped sucking his cock for a moment to investigate. It was strange. Thomas was still grunting, even though I had stopped my oral ministrations. I looked up and instead of the look of need and lust, painted on my artist's face, it was wincing with anguish. And then I saw the source of his anguish. Victor spooned up against the handsome fellow, attempting to shove his large cock up Thomas's ass. "Stop it Victor," I said. "You're hurting him." I resumed my young artist's blowjob. Teasing his tiny peehole with my tongue and wrapping my hand around his balls. I licked my other index finger, getting it wet, and then pushed it against Thomas's tight asshole. "Fuck," he moaned, his cock growing harder in my mouth. I teased his long thin cock, licking the underside, nibbling on its bulbous head. All the while, I wormed my index finger all the way into his ass. Each time I pushed it in, his cock would bob in response. "You like that Tommy?" I asked. "You like my finger in there? Fucking your ass?" The look on his face said he was in heaven. His cheeks were slightly flushed. I spit on my fingers again. This time I pushed two fingers inside him. I spanked his cock against my tongue. He was harder than ever. "You do like it," I said. "You like it in the ass, don't you. Are you going to be my fag? My little fag artist?" I reached between Thomas's legs, grabbed my husband's thick meaty cock, and pulled it forward so that one was under the other. Lifting Thomas's cock out of the way, I showed him my husband's. "It's big isn't it?" I asked. "I remember when I first saw it; I thought; no way was that going inside me." I spit on Victor's cock, making sure to get it good and wet. I went down beneath Thomas's legs, pulled his bottom cheeks apart, and spit on his tight asshole for good measure. "But don't you worry baby," I said, grabbing Victor's cock, and steering it to Tommy's entrance. "You've got me here to steer it right in. I'll make sure Victor is gentle with you." Victor's large fingers wrapped themselves around Thomas's narrow hips for support. I moved the head of my husband's cock around in a tiny circle at the entrance of Tommy's ass. "Here we go," I said, wrapping my hand around Victor's cock so that only the head was free. "It's going in now. It's going in that tight little artist's ass." Victor pushed forward. My hand only allowed the head to go in. "Ow-ow-ow-stop-" Thomas cried. "I'm not going to be able to do this." "Sure you are," I said. I reached up and pinched his nipples and sucked his cock back to hardness. "Just relax." I moved my fingers back, exposing more of Victor's cock. Thick cock that Victor forced into the artist's tight ass. "Oh," Thomas cried. "I can't - I can't!" "Fuck he's tight," Victor said, his voice raspy from arousal. "He's so fucking tight." "You're not relaxing," I warned. "Don't fight it. If you must fight it, try to push it out from here." I tapped his stomach muscles to show him where. That must have worked, because Victor was now halfway in. His thick head and even the thick middle were now buried in Tommy's tight ass. My artist's unruly hair was matted and damp from sweat. His cock was deflating, only at quarter mast. "Oh no you don't," I said. I rolled his balls around in my palm and sucked his cock all the way into my mouth. I felt it stirring again. "That's it," I urged. "Get it hard for me again baby." I kept working until it was hard enough to go inside of me. I sat back in the chair, scooted to the edge, and spread my legs, each one dangling over the armrest. I grabbed the curved and perfectly shaped cock of my new artist and guided it to the entrance of my hot sex. "Push it in him Victor," I said. "Push it all the way in." Thomas gave a cry of anguish. His face screwed up in pain. I pulled at his nipples. He began fucking me, or more like Victor began fucking him, and through him, me. "Oh fuck," Thomas cried. His arms flailed about and grabbed at the back of the chair and armrests for support. If he tried to escape his anal deflowering by my husband, he plunged deep in my cunt. If he tried to pull back, his ass was filled with cock. Seeing the helpless look on his face and knowing that he was literally between a rock and a hot place pushed me over the edge. My orgasm poured through me like molten lava. I wrapped my legs around Thomas, placed my feet on my husband's hips, pulled him forward and pushed him back. Driving my husband into my pretty artist. "Oh fuck- oh fuck" Thomas began to repeat. He was no longer trying to escape his violation. On the contrary, his body began to slip into a rhythm. They were so sexy, my husband and my lover. Our lover. I took him by his chin and tilted his head back. I caressed my husband's rough cheek, and turned him toward Thomas. My pretty artist gave a guttural whine. His pouting lips parted. Victor was not quite as eager. He looked at me, his eyes questioning. I never said a word, but in my mind I was thinking kiss him you big galoot. Kiss him. Kiss him. Oh please kiss him. I would like to think it was telepathy. My will overwhelming my husband's reticence. But, more than likely it was his own desire from the fires of his loins. Victor kissed him. He kissed my pretty artist. Pushing his tongue into his mouth. Biting his plump lower lip. His face screwed up in pleasure. He broke the kiss. "Fuck oh fuck!" he exclaimed. Victors hand grabbed the back of Thomas's neck, pushing him down on top of me. He was pounding Thomas. Really pounding him. I could feel through Thomas and I could feel his cock twitching inside of me. "Are you coming lover?" I asked. I tightened my pussy around him. Felt his cock jump in response. "You are coming, aren't you?" "Now squeeze my husband, just like I squeezed you." "Oh I can't. It's too much." Thomas gasped. "I just can't." "Yes you can." He bit his lip. His brows knit in concentration. "Ouch" he panted. "Goddamnit- fuck - fuck" my husband cried. "I'm coming. Fuck I'm coming." I grabbed Thomas's ass. Each hand grabbing a handful of his sexy bottom. "Again," I urged. "Owww. . ." he cried. I could feel his cheeks beneath my palms. I could only imagine what he would be feeling right now, with my husband's big cock up his ass, pumping him full of come. I had tried to take it before, but it was just too painful. My ass was now off limits. "Again." My breath was driven out of me as Victor slumped down on top of us. I stroked his sweaty muscular back. I could feel Thomas's come leaking from my pussy, ruining my chair. The joints in my legs ached. I was satisfied, and still feeling tingly from my orgasm and the hot sex. My heart was brimming over with love for my husband. Oblivious to my intense feelings of love, my wonderful husband, my big strong man, and my new lover, both of who were in the process of crushing the life out of me. "Get off," I wheezed. "Get off - you're killing me." We did manage to extricate our tangle of bodies from the chair. "Do you happen to have an extra canvas?" I asked Thomas. "Yes," Thomas said. "I have one in my car." "Would you mind getting it?" He winced several times while dressing. His poor ass must have been killing him. "Did you plan all this?" I asked my husband. "Not everything," Victor said. "But some of it. I mean, here I am paying for all this art and not getting anything for it. It's an expensive hobby." "Baby," I said, kissing him, and unbuttoning his shirt. "We help to support the arts, but this isn't charity. These paintings are worth much more than we paid for them. Trust me, one day people will be fighting to put them in a gallery somewhere." I unfastened Victor's belt, and began to slip it out of its loops. "What are you doing?" he asked, catching my hand. "You picked this artist," I said. "It's only right that you pose for him." "But. . ." "No buts," I insisted. "You picked him out. You fucked him. You shoved your big prick into his tight little ass. He'll never be what he was before. He's a different person that when he walked in here today. And now you are going to sit still and let him paint you." "But I don't. . ." ********* The finished painting was wonderful. It was one of the best of our collection. I was right about Thomas painting my husband. He captured him in that moment - so powerful - yet so serene. I was also right about galleries knocking at our door. Twenty-five years later and now my paintings hung in several galleries - enjoyed by thousands. Besides, I didn't have room for them anymore, now that I moved into a smaller house. Victor passed from a heart attack many years later. I still have his painting in my bedroom. I sit and stare at it sometimes and think about the memories. Memories I sighed as I looked in the bathroom mirror. 'Girl, you look old and tired today. What's the matter with you?' I thought as I stared at this person staring back at me. There are times when I look and I don't even recognize me anymore. Today was one of those days. Old and tired. That's how I've felt since he left. I haven't been dating him long, but yet, this one has gotten under my skin in a very real way. Trouble was, fate just intervened with a job offer too good to pass up: a great job that was 1200 miles away. Twelve hundred thousand million miles away or at least that's how it felt to me, and it's hard for me to find the good in that. Other than the fact that my friends think his new home will give me somewhere to run away to. What they don't understand is that his arms are the only escape I need. My thoughts turn to how I feel when he holds me. I feel his strong hands on my body as I take my own and caress my skin. I am lost in the thought of his mouth on me as my hands travel to the places that send shivers up my spine when it is his hands that visit there. I feel the texture of my skin, and wonder how it feels to him. I try to step out of myself, to not focus on my flaws as I usually do but merely feel. My mind travels back to the last time he touched me, and I feel that familiar tingle in my pussy return as my fingers dance there. I remember how his mouth sucked my nipple into it and his teeth nipped, as my own fingers roll it between them. My breath begins to come more quickly now, as my fingers once again travel down the soft roundness of my belly toward my pussy, now pulsing with anticipation. I recall the last time his fingers were there. I remember how he plunged one into me, and then drew the dewy fluids out to coat my clit. I remember the way he carefully swirled his fingers just so over the bud while asking, "How's this, baby? Does this feel good?" His voice fills my head now. I can almost smell him, feel his warmth against me as he softly whispers in my ear, "Cum for me, baby. You know I love it when you cum ..." My own fingers pinch and roll my clit in a pattern I know so well. I know my body; know what it takes to bring it to a peak. So does he. He has become an expert in a very short time: bringing me to the brink and over, over and over again. Just his touch on my body lights a fire deep in my soul. I'm getting close now, just thinking about him. I feel that familiar throb beginning and I know it won't be long. I recall his cock: how I love the heaviness of it on my tongue and how it fills my pussy perfectly. I think of how it feels sliding in and out of me as I slide my own fingers in and out with the same rhythm. I am aware that my fingers don't carry the same heat, but I try to block that with more thoughts of his voice encouraging me to cover his cock with my cum. Suddenly with a flash, I peak; my pussy spasms against my fingers in a gentle cum. I hear his voice once again in my head: "Oh yeah, baby ... that's it. Cum all over my fingers. Good girl ... yesssssss .... God, that feels good, doesn't it?!" I never cum as hard as I do when it is he who brings me to this point, but this satisfies my need for the moment. I suck my nectar from my fingers and think of how it turns him on when I do that in front of him. I bask for a moment in the glow of the orgasm and memories; then I rise from the bathroom floor and turn on the shower, now anxious to start my day. Anxious to forget that after we make love, we cuddle and talk for hours. Anxious to forget that I miss that intimacy the most: to forget how I miss having someone as a part of my soul as well as my body. I look again in the mirror, and this time I see less "old and tired" but more longing in my eyes. But I must shake free of all of those feelings. Responsibilities await me and, for now, that longing will have to be put aside until later when I can get him on the phone and hear the voice that quells my longing and gives me more memories to visit tomorrow morning. Memories I'm sure that we all remember our first time. We remember with fondness the guy that made us feel accepted and special. We remember our first love, so deep it hurt to be apart and nearly killed us when it ended. So many memories, tucked neatly in the files of our minds waiting to be savored like a fine wine in a passing moment. I shared the story of my first time with you awhile back and received so many wonderful comments. After that, I shared a fantasy and again enjoyed your approval. Today, I want to share another memory. This one is from slightly later in life, Jeff and I have split and I have started to move on. I hope that everyone enjoys my tale, maybe it will trigger a memory for you. I stepped out of the shower and began toweling myself dry. I had gotten home from work, gotten a bite to eat and was cleaning up to go out. My eyes traveled to the mirror and I looked at my naked body. My summer tan, bronze and dark, with no lines thanks to my nicely private balcony where I caught my sun. I quickly finished drying and moved to the bedroom to dress. I stood in front of the closet for a minute before pulling out a pair of tan slacks and a black button down shirt. I thought about work as I slipped into a pair of skimpy yellow bikini briefs. Pulling on the slacks, I pushed that out of my mind and began to concentrate on the evening ahead. I had been so busy for the last few weeks that I hadn't gone out at all. Work, my recent split with my lover and other things had been more important. Today at lunch I had decided that tonight, I was going to bust loose and enjoy life again. I slipped into a pair of black loafers, looked in the mirror and smiled. I looked good and I was on my way to dance and enjoy a night on the town, look out world. I got to Ziggity's about 30 minutes later and ordered an Absolute and tonic from the bar. A very cool place this is, lots of neon, plants and an art-deco kind of feel. There's a large dance floor in the middle and several small seating areas spread around the room as well as a balcony area that circles above. I scanned the room and sipped my drink, beginning to relax at long last. After awhile I started dancing, moving around the floor and letting the movement wash away my tension. Occasionally, someone would join me for a moment and then move on. Everyone was just warming up on a warm April evening. After quite a few songs, I went back to the bar and got another drink before finding a seat in a small alcove just off the dance floor that had a view of the fountains outside. A few friends stopped by to say hello, a couple of them stayed to talk for a bit and went back to the dance floor or some other place. I sipped my drink and watched the room, my mood getting better all the time. I was looking out the window at the fountains, listening to the music when his voice startled me, "You looked thirsty over here". I turned, smiling as he sat a fresh drink on the table. I thanked him and invited him to join me. He told me that his name was Bill and that he was in town on business. We talked for a bit and I looked him over discreetly. He was older, maybe 35, with short, dark hair and deep brown eyes. His t-shirt wrapped around a tight waist and thick chest and his occasional smile was warm and inviting. We talked for a bit and I found myself enjoying his company. I had never been with anyone older than 22 or 23 before, so talking to someone who was wiser was refreshing, almost invigorating. He had a quick wit and....something else. He leaned in toward me and I took in the aroma of his cologne as he spoke. "I don't dance and I'm not sure how you feel, but I have a hotel room up the street and would love to get to know you much better." He said. Then I felt his lips brush my neck and I knew that I had to say yes. We left the club and walked out into the warm spring night. Since his hotel was only a couple of blocks away, I decided to leave my car. We walked up the street, talking and laughing. We came to an art shop and I stopped to look at a picture. As I stood looking, Bill moved in behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and pressing against me. I sighed softly as he kissed the back of my neck. After that we, we quickly finished the walk to his hotel and got into the elevator to his room. I watched as he pushed the button for the 40'Th floor and felt the car start to rise. I smiled as he moved closer and placed his hands on my hips. I sensed that he was getting a bit nervous and I leaned forward, kissing him softly. I felt his hands tighten and we came together in a full embrace as our mouths moved roughly together. We pulled apart as the car stopped and a young couple entered. My mind raced, as I grappled with the fact that I was going to a hotel room with a guy that I had just met for the first time in my life. Up to now, I had only been with friends. Jeff and I had occasionally invited a guy over to join us and on a few occasions, I had been with guys that I knew from the area alone. This was different. First, I had only known Bill for an hour or so and second, he was quite a bit older than I was. Both facts combined to send a rush of excitement through me. We got to his floor and quickly moved down the hall to the room. Once inside, I looked around, taking in the king-size bed, a balcony looking out over the city and the smile on Bill's face. I accepted his offer of a drink and excused myself to the bathroom. I came back into the room to find Bill on the balcony. I joined him and we talked while sipping our drinks and looking out over the city. I was feeling very relaxed and warm with him and was wondering if he was ever going to make a move. Just then, he sat down his glass and turned toward me. I sat my glass next to his and looked into his eyes, smiling reassuringly. I gasped as he took me in his arms and began kissing my neck. Not in the soft, gentle way from the street, but more forcefully, almost desperately. My arms wrapped around him as his lips came down hard on mine and his tongue began to probe my mouth. We broke our kiss and he began to take off my shirt, his fingers fumbling with the buttons as I pulled his shirt over his head, exposing his thick hairy chest. I moved my hands to help him with mine and slipped it off my shoulders, letting it fall to the ground. My hands moved to his belt and he started to lead me back into the room. I smiled as I un-did his slacks and knelt at his feet, wanting him right there on the balcony. I helped him out of his shoes then returned to the slacks. Taking the zipper down and pushing them down. He stepped out of them and I moved my hands up his legs until I came to his boxers. I kissed a thigh and then moved higher. My nostrils took in his lovely aroma, a combination of him and a trace of cologne. My hands pushed up and stroked his very nice bulge through his boxers. I looked up and saw a smile on his face, "Do you like that Bill?" He nodded and I pulled the underwear down to expose his lovely cock. I let my eyes travel slowly down his now naked body, taking in his oh so sexy masculinity. He was square-jawed and handsome in that rugged, 1950's kind of way. He had short, dark hair and was clean-shaven although he did have the stubbly growth of the day. His chest was covered with a mat of hair that thinned as it grew down his flat belly before coming to the thick thatch at his crotch. His cock was nicely long and a bit thicker than most with a pair of large balls hanging beneath it. I reached up and cupped his cock and balls in my hand for a moment, loving the heaviness of him. I heard his sigh as I gently kneaded him. I looked back into his eyes as I wrapped my hand around his cock and stroked it slowly from base to tip. I leaned forward and kissed his balls gently before sucking one into my mouth. I heard a deep groan as my tongue rolled it then sucked the other. I could feel his cock beginning to thicken and I left his balls to move on to more interesting things. I let my tongue and lips slide up his shaft, going ever so slowly, relishing the feel of his flesh. "God, I love your cock." I whispered as my lips came to his tapered head. "Mmmm, and I love your mouth...oh yeah." he groaned as I kissed and then sucked the head between my lips. Slowly, I rolled my tongue around him, moving back and forth, as I sucked only the head of his sweet cock. "Nooooo." I groaned as I felt his hands grabbing my shoulders and pulling me up into his arms. I moaned as his lips found mine in a long gentle kiss. Our tongues played and we both ran our hands over the others bodies, his stopping to cup my ass. I was almost giddy at the feel of his body against mine, the hair of his chest rubbing against mine. We broke our kiss and he took my hand leading me back into the room. We came to the bed and I smiled as he gently guided me onto it. His hands removed my slacks and then slid my briefs over my hips. "Oh Jesus, you're so hot." He said as he slid onto the bed next to me and pulled me into his arms again. We kissed and stroked for several minutes, enjoying the closeness. After a bit, he pushed me onto my back and began kissing down my body. I sighed and relaxed as his expert mouth teased me. He would kiss here and lick there, sometimes stroking a spot before his mouth got there. I felt him pull a nipple into his mouth and groaned in approval as he nibbled on it. He continued and I just spread out, giving him access to anything that he wanted. I felt his mouth pass my erect cock and then he was kissing my thighs. He licked my balls and then began sucking my cock, taking the whole shaft deep into his mouth. A hand massaged my balls as he moved up and down on me. I flipped around on the bed so that I could suck him, quickly engulfing his cock in my mouth. I felt like I was in heaven with his rock hard shaft in my mouth as his fucked me. I was getting very close to shooting when he pulled back and flipped me over onto my belly. His hands grabbed my hips and pulled them from the bed and I gasped as I felt him kiss my exposed asshole. "Mmmmmm, such a sweet ass." He said and then began to probe with his tongue. I pushed back toward him, moaning as he kissed, licked and slowly probed me with his tongue. I felt his hand move over my ass and then took in a deep breath as he slid a finger inside me. "Oh God yessssss." I hissed as the thick digit slid deeper and then began to move in and out of me. He worked slowly and gently, taking his time to spread my tight anus. I was tingling all over, my cock throbbing from his attention. His finger began thrusting in a bit faster and then he slowly inserted a second, spreading me even wider. He began thrusting in and out and then pulling out to tongue me. I moaned and groaned, loving every second. I was so hot, my cock throbbing and my ass tingling and I knew that I had to have him. I rolled over onto my back and pulled him to me. I kissed him then took his face in my hands. "I want your cock Bill, fuck me please." I said, my voice quivering with excitement. He smiled and then moved to kneel between my out-stretched legs. He took them in his hands and lifted them to his shoulders. I watched as he took his cock in hand and sighed as I felt the head press against me. Slowly he pushed forward, the head slipping easily into me. I gasped as I felt him push another inch into me and he stopped. I saw a look of concern on his face and I could tell he was concerned about hurting me. I focused on his eyes and my hands grabbed his hips. I smiled and pulled on him, urging him to take me. "Take it baby, fuck my ass." I growled. Then I stifled a cry as he gathered himself and buried his hard, fat shaft in my willing ass. "Oh my sweet God." I whimpered as I felt his balls come to rest against my butt. He stayed there and I trembled beneath him, my ass slowly relaxing around the invading cock. I felt him slowly pull back until just the head remained and then begin to thrust in and out of me. Again, he worked with a skill that I was not used to. One minute he was slowly moving in and out and then suddenly, thrusting into me hard, fast and deep. I moaned and groaned and whimpered beneath him. "You like that cock in your ass baby?" he asked as he thrust into me. I groaned deep in my throat, "Oh God yes, I love your cock," I gasped, "Now fuck me, use me, fuck my sweet ass!" I was quickly rewarded, as he began to slam his cock into me. His cock was like a piston, ramming deep into me with long, steady strokes. Then he pulled out and rolled me over. I quickly raised my hips and felt his cock slide in from the back. I cried out as he found bottom as the new position allowed him to go deeper. He started to thrust, driving himself into me with abandon and I groaned in approval, begging for more. I lost track of everything except his shaft and I cussed and whimpered, more aroused than ever before. "Oh yessssss Bill, fuck me!" I cried, wanting him to know how much I loved it. I felt a hand wrap around my chest and he pinched a nipple...hard. That was all it took and I felt my cock swell and my balls tighten. "Cumming! Oh God, yessssssss." I cried and then groaned as I felt my cock explode, spraying a huge load of cum onto the bed below me. I could feel my ass clenching his thrusting cock as I came and each thrust pushed even more cum out of me. Then I heard him, a deep, throaty growl and his body tensed behind me. "Gonna cum...Oh yesss...gonna cum." He said. I looked back, "In my mouth Bill, cum in my mouth." He quickly pulled out and I rolled over. He was stroking his cock and I quickly took it in my mouth, wanting his load. "Yessssssssss" I felt him swell and then a huge blast of cum shot into my mouth. The force of it surprised me and I pulled back instinctively. I was rewarded by another, even larger shot splattering on my face as he grabbed his cock and stroked quickly. Two more streams coated my face and then he stopped stroking. I moved forward and took his cock in my mouth, feeling the sticky cum coating my face as I sucked the remaining drops. Finally, he collapsed to the bed and I rolled next to him. I smiled at him and started rubbing his cum over my face, stopping occasionally to lick a finger. We kissed and caressed and at some point, I fell asleep in his arms. I woke up in the morning to find a note lying on the pillow. "Last night was wonderful. Sorry I had to go, but I had to get to a meeting. I'm flying out right after so this is good-bye. Thank you so much for a wonderful trip." I showered quickly and headed home. My thoughts were sweet as I remembered the night before. I only regret that I never saw him again. Well, that's my story. I hope you enjoyed. I hope that it will trigger a happy memory for you. Oh, and Bill? If you happen to read this and remember a night in Chicago, drop me an E-mail at this site. Memories The pool underneath Lucy slowly grew as she stood drIpping wet after stepping out of the shower. She looked herself up and down in the full length mirror on her bathroom door and quickly wrapped a towel around her lower half. She hated the way her legs looked, thick and milky white. She always admired the women she saw in jeans adds with their thin legs and "perfect" heart shaped asses. She looked at her full breasts, cupping them in her hands and squeezing them tightly. She tugged gently at her nipple ring and shivered at the twinge of pain that ran down her spine. She would never have imagined herself with a piercing, but she was certainly glad Kris had convinced her to get it. They had been friends for such a long time, spending every day together, but she had never thought of him as anything more. She remembered the night they had spent together, playing it over and over again in her head. Turning slowly she looked at herself in the mirror again, this time over her shoulder. Her eyes fell to her love handles and her heart sank. She turned away. Drying herself off quickly with a towel, she stepped out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. She fell back onto the bed, loving the way the soft down comforter enveloped her as she dropped into it. Starring at the ceiling, she couldn't get the image of Kris's face out of her mind. She remembered everything about that night. They had been at a house party and she had had way too much to drink. That last thing she remembered was having a Tequila drinking contest. Then she was opening her eyes, in a strange bed. Panicking she rolled over and saw Kris fast asleep. Her heart had been racing, what had happened? This was her best friend, had she ruined their friendship by pushing herself on him? Had he taken advantage of her when she was passed out? She couldn't remember anything. She had racked her mind trying to come up with the answers. Laying there in what she assumed was his bed, fearing the worst, she still couldn't help but wonder. "What is he wearing underneath the covers?". She had never seen him naked, but had always thought about it. She gently slid the comforter down from his chest, exposing his matching nipple rings, then his muscular stomach. She had stopped when she reached his hips, not knowing if she dared go any farther. He moaned deeply, and her hand shot back from him. He moaned again, scratched his chest and dropped his hand to his side. Summoning up all her courage she reached for the covers, grabbing them tightly, and slowly slid them down to expose what lay underneath. Laying in her bed, remembering him, she put her hands on her breasts and massaged them gently. They felt warm and soft in her hands, her nipples hardening and becoming more and more sensitive. Her breasts began to tingle slightly, and she pinched at her nipples. The tingling increased and spread down, over her stomach, and down even further to groin. She let one of her hands slide down, following the soft contours of her body, to rest between her thighs. Her pussy was warm to her touch, and as she slipped a finger between her pussy lips she could feel how wet she was. She parted her lips with two fingers and slid her middle finger a little deeper inside, moaning slightly and tilting her hips. She couldn't believe how wet she was. Pulling her finger out she brought it to her mouth and tasted her sweet juices. She sucked her finger, sliding it in and out of her mouth, picturing Kris's perfect body. As the covers slowly came away from his body, Lucy couldn't believe her eyes. Every centimetre that she uncovered she kept expecting him to stop her. Finally, she tossed the covers off of him and uttered a low, almost inaudible moan. There he was, out in the open. She had never expected anything like this, and she could hardly resist reaching out to touch him, to know that it was real and not just a dream. He moaned again and she quickly withdrew back to her side of the bed. Her dripping wet finger slid from her mouth with a wet sucking sound. She rubbed her wet finger against her nipple making it even harder, then quickly thrust it back inside her. She rubber her clit slowly, and her whole body grow warm. She tingled with anticipation. Her hips began to thrust upwards as she felt the explosion growing inside her. Peeking over her shoulder, she could see that he was still asleep, and that he was still uncovered. She licked her lips looking at his manhood, imagining what it would look like when it was hard. As she stared at him she could see it slowly getting bigger. She blinked, and it shrunk to its original size. The next thing she knew, the tip of her finger was resting at the base of his cock, a tingle running up her spine as her finger ran up his shaft. When she reached the head she moaned and arched her back, almost cumming with the anticipation of what was to come. He mumbled something and put a hand on his dick, rubbing himself gently. Lucy could only watch transfixed. Her one finger was sliding in and out of her pussy so fast now she could feel a cramp coming on in her forearm. She slowed to a gentle pace, and inserted another finger alongside the one already deep inside her. The extra girth almost put her over the edge. Her other hand tugged at her nipple ring, the pain holding her back from cumming, she loved it. Kris stroked himself slowly. Lucy couldn't believe what she was seeing. He was growing right before her eyes. She had never seen a man that big before. She had always loved the feeling of a big dick stretching her out. She needed to feel him inside her, NOW! She grabbed his cock with both hands and began to stroke it. He moaned pleasurably, and moved his hips. She felt it get even bigger in her hands. "Lucy?" He had asked, half asleep, "is that you?" She didn't answer him, but instead rolled on top of him and began to kiss him. Kris didn't resist, he pulled her even closer to him, the feeling of his strong arms around her made the kiss even more passionate. She reached between her legs and grabbed his warm, throbbing, pole guiding it between her dripping wet lips. His eyes closed in ecstasy as she slid down his cock until it was buried deep inside her. "What are you doi..." She put a finger to his lips before he could finish. "Shh," she whispered, "don't talk." Thinking of him inside her made her explode, grinding her hips against the palm of her hand. The butt of her hand rubbing against her clit. She screamed in ecstasy, running her hands through her long hair, and pulling it as she came. Every part of her body was so sensitive now that as she ran her hand over her face and down her neck, she could feel every nerve ending. As her fingers danced over her nipples she felt a tremor in pussy, squeezing her fingers tightly. She slid her fingers slowly in and out of her, fucking herself gently. Her body twitching as they went in and out, her eyes rolling back into her head as she came again. Pulling her fingers out. she felt empty as she squeezed down on nothing. She lay there, staring at the ceiling, as her orgasm faded. She had begun to fuck him slowly, sliding up and down his enormous rod, he felt so good. She watched his face, his eyes were closed, but she could tell by the look on his face that she was doing it just right. She took his hands and put them on her bouncing tits, he squeezed them tight and held them. Suddenly she felt his body jerk, and saw his mouth open, she knew he was going to cum. She slowed herself down, but it was too late. His hands tightened on her breasts, squeezing them so tightly she winced. Then she felt it, he pushed his hips up so that he was as deep inside her as he could be, and held himself there, lifting her completely off the bed. The first burst of jizz was amazing, she felt it as it exploded out of him, filling her up. She clamped down on him, and now she could feel every movement as more cum exploded into her, thrusting his hips with each burst. When he stopped cumming, she felt him relax, lowering her back down to the bed. He rolled her off of him, and they lay beside each other. She watched as he grew flaccid, his penis glistened with her juices. A shiver ran down her spine as cream oozed from between her legs and between her cheeks. She suddenly felt very naked, and pulled the covers over her, to hide her shame. Seconds later she heard snoring from the other side of the bed. Looking over she saw Kris, mouth half open, covered in sweat, sleeping. Staring at the ceiling, she touched herself gently, and her body shuddered. She hadn't had an orgasm like that in a long time. Suddenly there was a knock at the door. "Are you all done in there?" Kris asked. She couldn't believe that she was laying in his bed, letting her juices drip onto his sheets. "Just getting dressed, hang on a second!" she answered. Jumping up from the bed, she threw on her clothes which were crumpled up in a pile on the floor next to the bed. She looked back at the bed, her body was imprinted on the sheets in sweat, and she smelled like smoke, and beer. She opened the door to see Kris smiling back at her. "How are you feeling this morning?" He asked her. "That must have been some hot shower, you're all red and sweaty." She looked at her feet, "Thanks for taking care of me last night." "My pleasure," he said, "I had a good time. I haven't slept that well in a long time." Memories It is a cold winter night here in the upper mid-west. But not so cold that my friend Barb and I can not get together for our weekly get together for some fun. Either she comes to my place or I will go to hers. Whoever travels brings fast food. Before we eat, we get comfy. By that I mean we strip, put a remote butterfly in place, put on tight body hugging panties which help secure the butterfly at that magical spot. We also insert a panty liner before securing everything in place for good reason. We put on terry cloth robes that have been pre-warmed in an oven to make them so cozy when touching our aroused senses. We get the table ready for the fast food before it gets cold. At the time we sit down to begin eating the food, we turn on each other's butterfly, which are remotely controlled. The one that has an orgasm last from the butterfly gets to be eaten first as a reward for being able to hold out the longest from having an orgasm. It has become a game with us. We really struggle while we are eating because the other person is controlling the vibrations of the butterfly. We giggle and laugh at what is happening to our bodies as the toy vibrates and works up our passion for more intimate pleasures as we are trying to eat. This particular night Barb orgasmed before I did meaning she would do me first with her hot tongue. As soon as a person had orgasmed the units would be shut off but left in place. After the meal we clean up the meal mess and giggle while doing the chores. Our state of arousal was increasing knowing the time for some real fun was approaching. Feeling our hardened nipples rubbing our robe, keeping our tension up also. The person that is the first to be treated has the choice of sofa, chair, bed, floor, table, or any other venue of choice to have the pleasure take place. Since I was the person that was going to be treated first, I opted to use the chair where I could drape my legs over the armrest, have my butt at the edge and everything fully exposed. Another thing we had agreed on, is that the person doing the dessert snacking may use any and all means at her disposal to bring the other person to an orgasm in the fastest possible time. Everything was fair game. This particular evening I placed myself into the chair and readied myself for the mouth, lips, tongue, fingers and toy action that would bring me to a big "O". We always kiss when we are in position to play, to kind of get things started, feel each other's breast pressing into each other and to make sure the other persons nipples are hard. This pretty much sets the stage for the story. Barb decided to start our session after the preliminary playing by licking from my knees, up the inside of my thigh to the magic button but not touching it. I was pinching my nipples and massaging my boobs. My mind drifted back to my teenage days and the first time I ever experienced girl on girl sex. I knew that I would get boobs sooner or later because all girls did. I never realized what pleasure they could bring until my buds started to appear. God they were sensitive. I tried to get my tongue to them while messing with them but could not reach them. I filled out as I was maturing. In high school, I did what most of us girls do and enjoyed my time there but never experienced girl/girl sex It was not until I was invited to a sorority party in my second year in college that I was introduced to it. I was invited to a sleep over at the sorority house by one of my classmates in Spanish class. She indicated that it would be sophomores and up through grad school and no boys. I had been to sleep overs in high school. I also felt it would be a great way to make new friends, so it was no big deal. At the sleep over, we watched popular videos, snacked, danced and talked about the boys. My gender reading this knows, so no details are necessary. As we got tired, we would one by one drift off to the area we had chosen to sleep. We had spread our sleeping bags around earlier. We got our favorite cuddly friend (yes, still used mine), pillow and zipped ourselves in. There were not enough beds for all of us, we were asked to bring sleeping bags. I must have fallen asleep when my head hit my pillow because I heard nothing more until hearing, "Mmmm...mmmm...mmmm." It was quite for a few seconds, then I heard, "Yes...Oh god...Yes!" next. Then silence again. The room was dark except for a little night-light. I did not make a move but my heart was racing wondering who and what was going on. I was so wide-awake by then as if I had 100 cups of coffee or cans of soda. I strained to hear more and then, I heard a much softer, "Mmmmmm...mmmmmmmmm...oh...mmmmmm." This was followed with a more audible, "Use your tongue, Jean." My heart leaped into my throat and my heart started to race. I knew Jean was two sleeping bags over but... I squinted in the dark and could see the outline of a head, as if looking downward, moving and rocking slightly. My God, Jean had gotten into the sleeping bag of Erin and was doing something pleasurable to her. Was Jean licking Erin's boob like I lick mine and wishing it was a boy's tongue and not my own? This went on for some time. All the while my heart was racing and I was getting wetter and wetter in my panties and could smell my leakage. What was happening to me? I had read about girls doing this but to me they were slutty girls in a story not my classmates. The soft sounds of enjoying the pleasures of what was happening continued until Erin said, "Let's use our fingers on each other's clit." I knew I inhaled a large amount of air upon hearing that. I lay there frozen. Jean and Erin must have started to use their fingers on each other because the moaning from both of them was very pronounced. Who else was wide-awake listening? Where they getting wet? I then heard from one, "I'm there, Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh!" About a minute later I heard, "Me to, Mmmmmmmmmmmm!" My God they had gotten each other off. What was I going to do? My clit was protruding from its hiding place. My lips were so swollen, just like if I had been masturbating. I decided to slide lower into my bag, bury my face in my pillow, reach into my panties and rub that button that made me always feel good. I slipped my hands into my panties, rubbed my clit and muffled my moan in the pillow. I drifted off to sleep and next awareness was smell of coffee and hearing chattering. I opened my eyes and Erin and Jean were gone and others as well. They must have been in the kitchen. I reached for my robe and put it on while sitting not wanting to show my stained panties to anyone. I went to the bathroom, showered and went to the kitchen dressed, smelling fresh. I avoided Jean and Erin as much as I could the rest of the day. Things seemed normal which relieved me. That evening then we made Bar-B-Que chicken along with hot dogs and hamburgers. Everyone had brought something so it was a spread of all kinds of deli foods from the super market. We shot pool downstairs, danced and watched more movies Saturday evening. By the way I found out later Jean was in Erin's English class and they were roommates at a dorm since their first day on campus. When it was time to hit the bags again I selected the spot I had from the previous night and I noticed Erin did the same but did not see Jean. Erin asked me if I was having a good time. She said she regretted not having been with me at other functions. We chatted about the party and the fun of being out away from dorm life and being with friends. I was lying on my left side looking at Erin and she was on her right side looking at me as we were talking. I noticed her raising her face to someone behind me and said, "Hi Jean, I thought maybe you had selected another place to park it tonight." Jean said, "After looking for a space this seemed to be the better of the choices. I see you are getting to know Amy better." The lights went out and Jean was struggling to get her bag in a position next to me on the other side. This caused my heart to pick up some extra beats. Then Jean asked, "Are you having a good time Amy? Erin and I think this is a great sleep over." "Yes Jean, its a nice break from the books." Then Jean said, "Did you enjoy yourself after the lights went out last night?" My heart almost stopped. Was she referring to me playing with myself or did they know I was watching and listening or both. "What's wrong Amy, too embarrassed to say, yes." My mind was spinning, what part of last night or all of it? I then heard from Erin. "You do not have to answer her Amy but just so you know, we both know you made yourself feel good. We saw you bury your head and enjoyed listening to those wonderful soft moans you were making into your pillow. We all do it so relax, your with friends, isn't see Jean?" "Yes, Erin she is. Amy, did listening to Erin and me get you hot?" "Quit teasing her Jean," came from Erin. We were speaking softly but I was wondering if anyone else was listening. "Okay Erin, okay but I love to tease innocence." "We all know that, Jean but you do not know when to button your lips sometimes." "Okay Erin for that I am going to get in my bag and ignore you two, good night." I was lying on my back looking at the ceiling and my brain was spinning. I felt Erin sliding closer next to me. "Ignore her big mouth and relax. Amy, I want to show you what Jean and I was doing last night. I have wanted you in my arms more than once when I am alone playing with myself." My heart had to go to 100 beats or more a minute. I could hear and feel it thumping. My mouth went dry. Erin's fingers went to my lips, brushed them, "please," as she lifted up to kiss me on the lips. I froze. I never kissed a girl like this. Erin lowered her head and placed her mouth next to my ear. "Amy, I will bring you more pleasure than you can using your fingers on yourself. I want you to play with me. Let's make each other cum. Believe me, you can still enjoy boys but this adds variety. Please let me teach you and show you." As she was whispering into my ear, one of her hands had slipped up my pj's and was already massaging a boob and occasionally soft pinching a nipple. Who was I kidding if I said no, with my nipple rock hard? "God I love the feel of your breast and nipple Amy. I think they like what I am doing. Do they?" "Uhh huh!" "Relax Amy, close your eyes and enjoy." She slipped her hand out and leaned on an elbow and was undoing my buttons. I was getting hotter and hotter, my mouth was getting dryer and my panties were getting wetter. She had all the buttons opened and then laid her mouth next to my ear and said, "Don't let out a scream but Jean is going to suck one boob and I am going to suck the other." I opened my eyes in shock. Jean was ready to lower her mouth to a boob and Erin was lifting up to do the same. When I felt the warm wet lips clamp around my hard nipples I opened my mouth to moan but Jean stuffed my mouth with something, which I found out later, were her panties. More on that later. They were getting me hotter and hotter. I knew I was leaking terribly. I could smell myself. They had to be sensing the same odors. Jean broke the breast contact and lowered her mouth to my ear and whispered, "The aromas from your pussy smells so sexy and are turning me on." My temperature must have climbed up 5 degrees from embarrassment. I did not say it at the time but the perfumes that they were wearing and the shampoo residual was further turning me on with their hair near my nose. With my mouth stuffed I just laid there bugged eye and hoping one of them would reach into my panties and play with my clit and make me cum. God I needed to cum. They kept at my breast with their warm, wet mouths and soft hands for a long time. I wanted to touch my clit but was to embarrassed at that moment in time. Erin lifted up, pulled the stuffing from my mouth and replaced it with her mouth and began French kissing me. I reciprocated the kissing. My God, I never knew girl to girl kissing could get so hot and be such a turn on. God, the tonguing we were giving each other was causing us both to grasp for air the best we could. I did manage to get my hands on the back of her head and hold her tight to my mouth. I knew then and there that I was a changed person. As Erin and I were kissing I could feel Jean's one hand slipping into my panties and moving fingers to my pussy. God, Jean was going to where no girl had ever been before and I was more excited than if a guy had been doing this. She was so slow not in a rush like guys. Oh God I wanted her to hit the switch. I heard Jean whisper, "Hold her tight Erin I'm there." In a second or two Erin pressed harder to my mouth, a finger of Jean's touched my clit, I lifted up to get more and exploded with an orgasm I will never forget. It started in my toes which curled and moved up to my thighs, butt, stomach, chest, chin, ears and hair. I saw lightning along with stars in color. Erin relaxed the mouth pressure enough so I could start using my mouth to get the much-needed air as I wrapped my arms around Erin and pulled her tight to me as I orgasmed for the first time from a girl's finger. After having settled a little but not by much because Jean was still massaging the clit, Erin said, "Okay, Jean my turn." Jean's mouth replaced Erin's at my lips and Erin's hand went into my panties. A few strokes with Erin's fingers produced another orgasm as intense as the one by Jean. Was it because it was new person messing with my pleasure bud? Erin then slowly was massaging my clit and let me come down easily. When I was almost back to normal I heard Erin say, "God, Jean she is hotter than either one of us had guessed. She really gushed on that cum. God I want to go down on her so much and drink that awesome flow." Jean then answered, "Yeah Erin, I am so wet and horny thinking of eating her. She was that way when my hand was there." I lay there trembling wondering if they were going to do that there in front of everyone. Jean lowered her mouth to my ear and whispered, "Relax Amy, just think Amy, we both want to eat you someday. Just that thought should keep you wet and horny until we decide to initiate you. We know you are going to love it and you will love doing us also." Barb brought me back to my real world because I was going over the edge with her induced tongue cum. It seemed so much better this time than on previous occasions or so it seems. Barb asked, "Jezz Amy, you gushed more than normal and seemed to have a harder orgasm." I did not explain the reason why it might have been possible. Maybe I will write more about my further development in the girl to girl activity after that sleep over depending on the interest from the readers. Memories It had been years since I had last seen Ellen and I was a bit afraid it might be awkward first seeing her again, but I took a chance and came. Ideally, we'd have gotten together in a smaller, more private setting but these sudden, last minute things can never be properly planned. When I first saw her that evening there was a crowd massed around her and yes, of course she was the obvious center of attention. I stayed in the background, watching her from afar, hoping sometime during the evening we could be alone, if only for a few moments. Even from a distance her beauty was radiant, her casual smile so strangely warm. She always had a sharp wit and piercing sense of humor and I could see that in her expression as I looked at her. Of course what I remembered even more was her outright perverse, passionate love of sex. No, this was no ordinary sexy woman simply looking for a romantic evening, a nice room and good sex, no, she wanted to rewrite the book. No place, no time and no position was too kinky for her. At times I actually feared her, like the time we had been to a picnic near a playground. As late afternoon passed and the sun was beginning to set the park had cleared out, everyone except Ellen and I. While sitting on a park bench I told her how I loved swinging when I was a child, how I swung the highest and the longest of anyone I knew. She merely smiled and then jumped up running to the swings. By the time I caught up to her she was in a swing, so I sat in the one next to her, just easily moving from side to side, lightly bumping into her. On one of the bumps she suddenly grabbed the chain to my swing and held it as she swung her head around. She kissed me hard on the lips and got that look in her eyes so I immediately knew what she wanted. I knew what she wanted but I still had to ask, "Where?" "Right here," she answered, standing up and pulling off her shorts and panties. "Here?" "Yes," she demanded, unbuttoning my shorts. I quickly stepped out of them and then slipped off my jockeys. My cock was hard by then so I stood in front of the swing, my cock basically swinging in the wind as I wondered what she wanted next. "Well, sit down silly," she said, and after I sat down, she slipped one leg between the chain on the swing and my right hip and then slipped her right leg on the other side. Reaching down she guided my cock as she lowered herself into my lap. We sat there for a moment, my cock buried to the hilt inside her sitting on the swing, motionless. She slowly began to rock back and forth a bit, grinding herself against me as the swing began to move a bit. My hands her locked firmly on the chain and I was listening for any strange sounds that might signal that the chain was about to snap. "Come on, let's swing," she said, kicking her legs out as I felt the swing move backwards some. "But the swing, it's not built for our weight," I replied nervously. "Oh come one, these are chains," she said, continuing to lean and sway with the swing. Leaving my fate to the swing designers I lifted my feet off the ground and began to lean and kick, driving the swing in the ever increasing arc as I drove my cock in and out of Ellen's pussy. The motion of our bodies on the swing, combined with the sensations of my cock easing in and out of her wet pussy was exhilarating. By the time we got about halfway up the height of the swing, she came, her juices soaking me, actually wetting the seat of the swing. As we continued I had to hold on tight to keep from sliding off the swing altogether, but I didn't stop. We kept going higher and higher and by the time we were about three fourths of the maximum height, she came again, screaming loudly as we moved up and down while soaring in the magnificent arc of the swing. As we approached full height the swing could reach I felt the pleasure building inside me and with one final thrust forward, the swing soared up, up, up and then suddenly fell back just a bit as I came. The swing arced back downward as my cock spurted again and again, filling her with my cum. We remained tightly embraced, my cock slowly shrinking inside her as the swing moved back and forth in its shrinking arc. By the time we came to a stop my cock slipped out of her and she was ready to head out for another adventure. I followed her with a sense of excitement tempered with some dread. Moving a bit closer to her but realizing my memories had inspired an erection, I held back some trying to conceal my untimely excitement at seeing her again. Funny, most of the time I was with her I was either erect or I was just recovering from an improbable sexual escapade. One particular nightmare I had when I was dating her was the one I called the "Thelma and Louise" as Ellen and I are riding in the car, locked in our passionate, sexual embrace as we plunge into the Grand Canyon with the song "Born to Be Wild" blaring on the radio. Finally close enough to see her face to face, one on one, I am suddenly mesmerized, standing in complete silence, lost in the memories. "The flowers are so beautiful," I hear. "Yes, so many of them." "I just love flowers," "I know," I replied, pausing, "they are so nice." "Yes." "How did she die?" "It was such a surprise, her heater had a problem and leaked carbon monoxide. She was on her back in bed and simply didn't wake up." "So calm and peaceful," I replied, feeling my heart breaking at the sheer injustice of it all. My erection immediately began to subside as I felt the tears running down my cheek. Of all the times Ellen and I had made love I couldn't remember a single time she remained on her back and here she dies, in bed asleep. My erection completely gone I walked to the back of the chapel, signed my name to the guest list and walked out to my car. There were storm clouds in the distance, but I took the top down, searched through my CDs for the perfect one and pulled out of the parking lot. It didn't start raining until I was well into New Mexico, but I didn't care, I was singing "Get your motor runnin' Head out on the highway Lookin' for adventure And whatever comes our way" and I wasn't stopping until I made the Grand Canyon. It was the least I could do for Ellen, for the memories.   (Note: lyrics from Born to Be Wild by Mars Bonfire, MCA Music (BMI)) Memories This happened when I was about 50 and single. I have been a nudist for years and belonged to a non-landed nudist club here in South Texas. At one meeting I met Millie, a single woman that was about 35 and a teacher. In conversation, I shared that I was going to a city that had some unique items she would love to share with her class and I volunteered to get one for her on my next trip. When I returned, I called her up and arranged to take the item to her place in the country. She was a nice looking lady, but her personality was what made her most enjoyable. This was my first time to visit a nudist's home one on one and I did not know what to expect, but I took along a towel and sure enough, she answered the door nude and invited me in to chat. Of course I shared about the gift for her class and I had no intention of letting her pay for it, but then our conversation steered to normal everyday topics. As it often does with single folks, gender, sex, and similar topics began to emerge and before we knew it, there we were on her couch talking about masturbation! We both admitted to be avid masturbators and we also both wanted to avoid getting into sexual relationship. As we spoke of all this, I realized I had become pretty hard. I was not quite at full erection, but I was headed there quickly. Of course, I took the end of my towel and started to drape it over my lap to hide my penis. Millie leaned forward and stopped my arm. "Don't cover it, it is so natural and I love that it has gotten hard because of our talk. I love to see penises and erections are just that much more fun." "I would never want to offend, though," I responded. But I allowed her to stop my arm movement, leaving my cock aimed directly at her. As I noticed her erect nipple lying on her thigh because of her leaning, I realized that she was also feeling arousal. We had each been sitting with one foot on the floor and the other leg bent on the couch so that we faced each other. I had noticed that although her labia would be visible, her pubic hair pretty well hid her actual vulva. "It feels sort of strange to kind of break the norms of nudism, but it sure does feel good, at the same time" I said. Millie responded that her home ran by different rules and I had nothing to worry about. She asked "May I look at your erection without offending you?" "Of course," I replied "in fact I find this feeling very nice." Now, my penis is nothing huge or anything, it serves me well, though. Hard, it is probably just average or a tad less. But my head swells quite thick, I am circumcised, so it shows well. I shave my pubic hair, shaft, and balls, so it is all very visible, too. Millie was leaned forward slightly - not like when she stopped my arm moving, but to get a good view and all the attention only made me that much more excited. I was very hard by then. I also felt that I had the okay to openly look at her body, but I wanted to ask, both for courtesy as well as for the eroticism of talking openly about it. "Is it okay if I look at your body as well?" "Oh, I'm sorry, of course you can" and she sat up straight, thrust her breasts out and then she reached to her pussy and opening it, brushed her pubic hair to the sides with her finger tips. She was so pink, moist, and looked so inviting. Without even thinking what I was doing, I gripped my cock in my hand and absent mindedly pumped it about three times. Millie's deep breath and whispered "Oh my!" brought me back to reality. She continued to use the fingers on her left hand to hold her outer lips apart. As she used her right hand to pull her inner labia outward and separate them, she said "I have always been nervous about my inner labia showing, I hope they don't bother you." "I think generous labia are absolutely gorgeous, don't hide them ever!" Millie smiled and leaned back even more to show off her vagina clearly. I could also see the nub of her clit under her hood and it seemed very erect, though covered. "Millie, the next step is obvious; we are going to masturbate for each other. Would you like to do it one after the other or both at the same time?" "Same time, if that works for you." I began pumping my cock in earnest now and said "catch up with me when you can." I stroked myself and watched her as she used her left middle finger in her vagina for her G-spot while she used her first two finger of her right hand in circles around her clit. All this was happening while she stared intently at me stroking my cock. "Warn me before you cum, I don't want to miss it, I love seeing ejaculation" she pleaded. Millie and I spent several minutes watching each other bring ourselves off. Finally, she got there first and cried out, leaned to the back of the couch and back upright. She was wracked by shivers and shakes and her breasts had a blush cross them from her belly up to her neck and ears. Her orgasm was beautiful. And it drove me over the edge. As I neared the point of no return, through gritted teeth, I uttered "cumminggg . . ." and then began to spurt straight in the air. I shot four good ribbons and then continued to flow out of my cock and over my hand. Millie sighed and laid back, as did I eventually. We both shuddered a bit with aftershocks and finally, Millie said "you don't happen to like massage by any chance, do you? I lost my massage buddy and I'm looking for a new one." Of course I love massages, both giving and receiving and I smiled when I told her, because I felt a new friendship developing that I was sure we would both enjoy! Memories Kevin Reilly unlocked his front door, kicked off his shoes and walked down the hallway to the kitchen. He had just taken his wife Keri to the airport where she was going to be catching the 8 a.m. commuter flight to the state capital. It was her biweekly three day trip to perform secretarial duties for her boss, Bradley Knox III, or as Kevin always referred to him, Trey. Every time he used that nickname for her boss's pretentious official name Keri would remind him that her boss hated it. Although he never admitted it to his wife, it was one of the reasons that he always found a way to bring the nickname into a conversation. She might think that Bradley Knox III was a great guy, but Kevin didn't really care for him; there was something about him he simply found phony. He looked at the clock and saw that it was only 7:30 a.m., which left him a lot of time to drive to the shop by nine when it opened. There was time for another cup of coffee, and as he poured it he realized there was also time for him to check his email and maybe do a little surfing around the Internet. He was not big on computers or the Internet, but he did find that email was a good way to keep in touch with some of the guys that he'd been in trade school with. There had been four of them who had stuck through it as a group, learning the intricacies of diesel mechanics together. The other three had all taken jobs away from the city, while he had been fortunate to catch on with one of the major heavy equipment sales and service firms right here in his home town. At the age of 30 Kevin was now one of three head mechanics and had a crew of five men working under his supervision. Being the head of the group didn't mean that he didn't have to pull wrenches with the rest of them; he still got just as dirty as they did, although he primarily worked on fuel systems. Kevin enjoyed his job even though it could mean unexpected overtime and the occasional need for out of town work. At least he didn't have to travel as much as Keri did with her job. She had only been at the Crosby and Knox law firm for six months, getting the job the week after she completed the upgrading courses necessary to move from a job as a real estate secretary to a better paid one as a legal secretary. She and Kevin had met at the college while each was learning their craft. That had been over eight years ago, and the two of them had been married for the last six. When they married Kevin had just started at the shop and Keri had been hired as a secretary for a local real estate firm. With the two of them working they had been able to make a down payment on this home they now lived in. Being able to move into their own home had occurred less than two years after they started their respective careers, something they both took pride in. With his coffee in hand Kevin headed down the hall to the spare bedroom where their computer was set up. He hoped it was still on because he had noticed Keri use it for a few minutes after getting dressed and packed. At least he wouldn't have to wait for it to boot up if she left it on. As he entered the room he could see the picture that they used as a screensaver slowly moving across the screen in its random journey around the face of the monitor. "Damn, we're a fine looking couple," he said to the empty house as he watched the photo of them move in front of him. They were side-by-side on lounge chairs surrounded by nothing but white sand, with the blue of the Gulf behind them. Both of them were nicely tanned, smiling and wearing the briefest of swimwear. It was one of many pictures they had taken during their vacation to Cancun 18 months earlier. They both had sunglasses on so you couldn't see his gray eyes or Keri's blue ones, but there was very little left beyond that that you couldn't see. Keri's shoulder length blond hair was lighter than his sun bleached light brown hair, and their tans were almost a matching shade. With the two of them lying back in their chairs you couldn't tell the she was 4 inches shorter than his 6 foot height. This wasn't the picture that he wanted to use as their screensaver, but Kerry wouldn't let him use one of the photos that had been taken when they spent a day on the nude beach at the resort. She was afraid that her parents, or someone else that she wouldn't want to see the picture, would somehow walk in while it was on the screen. In deference to her fears he had left those pictures in a secure folder, hidden behind a password. Maybe if he had time he would take a quick stroll through that folder before heading out to work so he could pay homage to Keri's luscious 36Cs. Then again, with having to spend the next two nights alone in their bed, he decided that perhaps it wasn't such a good idea. After watching their photo travel from the right margin diagonally to the top of the screen, he finally moved the mouse to clear the screensaver. The photo and the black background dissolved, and he could see that there was an email on the screen from Keri's email account at Crosby and Knox. He wondered why she left it on the screen, as she had told him their corporate system had to be kept secure for a multitude of legal reasons. She was always paranoid about him seeing her messages when she got onto her corporate account from home. After a second of thought he glanced to the top of the screen where he could see the familiar hourglass figure hovering over the Logout command. He realized then what had happened: their flaky high-speed modem was acting up again. Every week or so it would quit communicating to the equipment at the cable company, and the only way to get it working again was to cycle power to the modem. This brute force reset would always get it going. He was just reaching for the modem so that he could turn it off when a phrase jumped off of the screen from the email that Keri had left showing in her haste that morning. The phrase that caught his eye was 'bra and pantie', and as he stared at it he couldn't quite understand why it was there in an email on her work account. It was at that point that he pulled his hand back from the modem and sat transfixed reading the email that his wife had received that morning from her boss. It wasn't very long but the words went through him like a spear. Keri Hope I catch you before you leave. I really want you to bring that black bra and pantie set I got you on our last trip; the one with the teal accents. You never had a chance to wear them for me. My first appointment isn't until 2 p.m. with the Governor, so maybe we'll have enough time for you to put them on and for me to take them off for you this morning. Bradley He reread the message three times, hoping that it would somehow make some sense to him, beyond the obvious. He was left with only the obvious, however; Keri was having an affair with Trey, her boss. Kevin didn't realize it but had there been a witness to him sitting there at the computer, their description of him would have been that he was staring at the screen, intermittently opening and closing his mouth like a goldfish in a bowl. Finally Kevin shook his head and staggered to his feet, pushing the chair hard enough that it bounced off the wall as he left the room. He knew which black bra and pantie set Trey was talking about; he had seen it in Keri's lingerie drawer when she packed, and it had still been there when she closed and zipped her suitcase. He prayed that it was still there now as it might mean that the email had been a joke, some kind of sick joke. His hand was shaking as he pulled the drawer open, and it was quickly obvious that the black bra and pantie set, the one with the light blue-green bows decorating the front clasp of the bra and the thin ribbons at each side of the pantie, was no longer there. He quickly checked all of her drawers, praying she had simply moved them, but they weren't to be found. As the realization that his wife had returned to the room and taken the missing lingerie with her sank in, Kevin sat down on the edge of their bed and tried to think of what Keri had told him about them when she had brought them home. Kevin had seen them as she unpacked that day, and had taken them from her hand saying, "For me? I mean, for you to wear for me?" He remembered grinning at her like a fool. Keri had smiled at him coyly as she took them from his hand and said, "Not for tonight. I wouldn't want you ripping them off me in your haste to get me naked. I got them on a half-price sale at Victoria's Secret, but they were still expensive." He remembered her putting them into the drawer and they hadn't come back to his mind until this very morning. They had made love that night, just as they always did when Keri returned from her biweekly trips. She didn't need sexy lingerie to turn him on; she could always accomplish that by simply being near him. Kevin sat there for several minutes thinking about the email and the lingerie. He finally decided that it couldn't mean what it seemed to mean. There weren't any of the signs or signals he had always assumed would be present if a wife were cheating on her husband. She was as loving as ever, eager to be with him. He couldn't remember the last time they had a serious disagreement let alone a fight, and if anything their lovemaking was more frequent than when they enjoyed their Mexican vacation. There simply had to be something he was missing that would explain that message. He returned to the computer and after manipulating the browser stop button, and moving forward and back from screen to screen, he was able to get back to a normal cursor. With any luck her logout command hadn't gotten through, and he would be able to look at her email account to see whether there was anything else there from that bastard. Mentally he crossed his fingers as he reset the modem and waited for the green lights to reappear on it. When they did he took a closer look at her email and the folders displayed on the web page behind it. After minimizing the lingerie message he looked closely and could see that the only open folder was her Inbox, so he clicked on it and found four other messages. He opened them one by one and discovered that each was related to legal cases that meant nothing to him. He was beginning to fear that perhaps there wouldn't be anything else for him to use in his attempt to figure out what, if anything, was going on between Keri and her boss. It was when he began looking through the titles of her folders that he got lucky. Tucked between folders named for two local businesses was another labeled Personal. He didn't hesitate before clicking on it, hoping it might be the one that he was looking for. There was a screen full of message headings in the folder, and he could see that about half of them were from her boss. The folder was sorted by date, and he opened the first one apprehensively, scared of what he might find. The first message was very long, and as he read through it the color and emotion drained from his face. He read it a second time, clenching his teeth as he did so. When he finished the second reading he reached over and turned on their printer and printed out the entire email. While the message printed he happened to take a glance at the clock and saw that he would be late if he didn't leave immediately for work. There was no way that he was going to be able to concentrate on his job now, so he grabbed his cell phone and called in sick, a statement that was not so very far from the truth. The printer was finished now so he closed the message he had read and printed and went on to the next one. For the next hour he moved mechanically, selecting and reading messages, printing most of them and then forwarding copies of all of them to his own personal email account. By the time he was finished with the messages his eyes were filled with tears, and he knew that his marriage was over. After taking one last look at Keri's email account at Crosby and Knox and not finding anything else that appeared relevant, he logged her off the corporate web site and went to his own email account. He set up a separate folder and moved all of the forwarded messages into it. The last thing he did was change his password since he couldn't remember if Keri knew what his old one had been. He wanted those emails to remain available in case he needed to print more copies. After he shut down the computer he picked up the printed messages and his now cold cup of coffee and returned woodenly to the kitchen. He grabbed a beer from the fridge and then sat down at the kitchen table and reread the messages once again. He was surprised by how much they told him, especially when they were placed in context with what he remembered of the past six months and Keri's trips with Trey to the state capital. Keri had only been at her new job for a week when they told her that she would be required to accompany her boss to the capital to take statements, find and print whatever he might require from their corporate files and generally provide whatever assistance he needed. Their firm was doing some lobbying with the governor's office on behalf of local businesses and business people, as well as making representations at the state court level for other clients. It all seemed so above board when she first told him about it. He could see now that Trey had probably targeted his wife and that some of the trips hadn't really required her presence for business purposes. He could also see that Keri had soon been a willing participant in her encounters with Trey. Reconstructed from the emails and his memory Kevin knew that it was likely on their second trip that Trey had seduced his wife, although it was not impossible that it had happened on the first trip. The first email in her private folder was a reply from Trey to an email of hers in which she thanked him for the lovely Gucci handbag he had given her and for the lovely supper they had enjoyed together. She also mentioned how much she enjoyed 'everything else', although what that meant wasn't specified in her message. His reply, though, had mentioned their night together, so Kevin knew pretty much what she had been referring to. That first message also explained the handbag she had suddenly appeared with months ago. When he asked her how she had managed to afford it, she had laughed and called it a $40 knock off she had purchased from a kiosk in the mall. Knowing that her cheating had started so long ago and how easily her lies had come to her sickened him. This didn't seem to be the Keri he remembered and loved. The emails had continued regularly, usually just before or just after one of their trips. He assumed that between trips they would be speaking in person, with no need for email, or that the messages she had saved were more important to her. There was no way to tell, and in truth, it was irrelevant. It was in the third or fourth email that he discovered how they hid their trysts from him and the corporate office. They always stayed at the same hotel, and reserved the same two rooms. Kevin hadn't realized it, but every night when he phoned her around 10 o'clock in room 612 of the Hyatt Inn she was only there waiting for his call. After he had called her she would join Trey in his room for the night. It seemed that he had become so predictable that the two of them were able to play him like a trout. Their jokes to the effect that they wished there was a way to get him to phone a little earlier so they could get together quicker had cut him like a razor. He had never seen that side of Keri before, although it fit with his impressions of her boss. Another email explained the expensive looking diamond earrings that Keri had worn for the Crosby and Knox Christmas party. She had told him they were cubic zirconium, but the email showed him that they were real, a very expensive Christmas gift from her lover. Once again the message in her folder was a reply from Trey to her original message thanking him for the extravagant gift. It seemed to Kevin that she was overdoing the thank you, but it did make him wonder how she thanked him in person. He couldn't believe that the only time they were together was every two weeks for two nights in the Hyatt Inn. He was sure they must be meeting occasionally at other times and finally on his second reading of one of the more recent emails he got a clue when Trey mentioned working at the condo. After some concentrated thinking Kevin remembered that Keri had told him once that her boss was on the 9th floor of the condo building overlooking the river park. It now seemed likely that the two of them met during the day at his condo, either on the pretext of doing work there, or perhaps meeting there at lunch time. As much as Kevin tried, he couldn't think of a single instance where Keri had seemed freshly fucked. If she was screwing Trey during the week while she was in town, as he was now certain had happened, she was very careful to remove any evidence of it before she came home. Of course it might just have been a case of him fitting into the mold of the blind and trusting cuckolded husband. It was almost noon when he finished rereading all of the emails and put them aside. He knew he was going to have to decide what to do before Keri came back into town with Trey. She usually got in early in the afternoon on Friday and came directly home by taxi from the airport. Most days she would phone him at work to let him know that she was safely home. As he thought about that, the irony was not lost upon him that the biggest danger had already caught up with her while she was out of town. Kevin got up slowly from the kitchen table and grabbed two more beers from the fridge before heading into the living room where he sprawled on the sofa with the first of the bottles in his hand. He had noticed that it was already noon and he wondered where the time had gone. It didn't seem possible that almost five hours had passed since he had walked in the door after dropping his wife off to join her lover at the airport. He realized that the two of the must have planned a lot of things carefully because he rarely saw Trey when he walked Keri into the airport. A couple of times he had been visible standing in the departure lounge, but he had always ignored the two of them completely. By six o'clock that evening Kevin was barely conscious. During the afternoon he had made a number of trips to the bathroom and then back to the kitchen, bringing two more bottles of beer back to the living room each time. His last trip had come up short though, as the fridge was now empty of beer. He paused for a moment to look at the row of empties on the kitchen counter and realized that there were 12 of them, the full contents of the two six packs he had purchased only the day before. They were supposed to last him for at least a couple of weeks and under normal circumstances they would have. Now, having drunk the whole dozen and without having had any food, he was sorely in need of sleep. He managed to make it to the bed before passing out fully dressed on top of the covers. It was 10:15 when the ringing of the phone stirred Kevin from the place where his mind had taken him when he passed out. It had been a place full of images of Keri and him doing the things they had enjoyed since meeting eight years ago. As he struggled to stand, a glance at the clock told him that it was probably Keri phoning to find out why he hadn't called her at the Hyatt Inn. Everything that he had found out came rushing back to him, and on the spur of the moment he decided to wait until she returned home before confronting her. The answering machine was just starting to take the call when he picked up the phone and said, "Hello. Is that you Keri?" "Yes, it is. Why haven't you called? You always call by this time. Is something wrong?" He could tell there was a bit of concern in her voice, and he wondered why. Memories In his anger he almost said he was sorry for keeping her from getting into Trey's bed on time, but he held back and replied instead, "I'm sorry, Keri. I fell asleep." The hope that the tone of his voice didn't give away his true feelings crossed his mind, but then he wondered why he should even worry about it. "You've never done that before. What happened?" Her voice betrayed a bit of displeasure with him, and he almost decided to make a reply that would tell her that he knew, but again he decided against it. Instead he answered as nicely as he could, "I had a couple of beers after work and I guess they knocked me out." He thought he would go on the offensive and asked, "So how was your day? Were you busy this morning? I hope Trey doesn't work you too hard." He almost said ' work your pussy too hard', but had been able to hold himself back. Keri hesitated for just a moment before she answered with, "No. I wasn't very busy. Why do you ask that? You hardly ever ask me about my work here." "No reason, just making conversation. Everything here is as good as can be expected. How about you? Are you being good?" He had decided to toss another loaded question her way, just to see what her reaction would be. She answered very quickly, "What do you mean? Of course I'm being good. Why would you ask me that?" He could tell there was a little bit of concern back in her voice. He took his time answering, "I'm just kidding you. I know you would never be anything but good. I've trusted you completely, and I know my trust is safe with you." She was a bit flustered as she answered, "Well, of course it is. I just wonder why you would come out with that. You've never said anything like that before." "Just forget it. I didn't mean anything by it." He waited a few seconds before continuing, "I should probably go and get to bed. The beer seems to be putting me to sleep." "OK, Kevin, I will let you go. Be sure you get a good night's sleep. Love you." There was no way that Kevin was going to repeat those last two words to her, so he said, "OK, I will. Goodbye Keri." He hung up the phone and headed for the bathroom where he rid himself of the last of the beer. He was feeling a little better now after having had a few hours sleep, although he certainly would have been in no condition to drive. He returned to the kitchen and sat beside the phone, waiting stoically for 15 minutes to pass. When the time had elapsed he dialed the Hyatt Inn, the number burned into his memory from the many times he had called her there previously, and asked for room 612. It came as no surprise to him when the phone went unanswered for a dozen rings before he finally hung up. He wondered if they were joking about some new plan to get him to call her earlier in the future, and he also wondered if his failure to call Keri would have a detrimental effect on their screwing tonight. He finally decided that he really didn't give a damn, but then he realized that they would probably be screwing while he sat here thinking about it. That realization brought tears back to his eyes as he stumbled to bed, this time getting undressed before he crawled beneath the covers. He was surprised the next morning when he didn't feel too badly for his overindulgence of the night before. After he had showered he felt good enough that he was actually able to go in and spend the day working, although his mind was taken up with thoughts of Keri instead of fuel filters, injectors and precision fuel pumps. He went through his tasks robotically, and more than one of the other employees looked at him questioningly when he seemed to misunderstand what they had told him. He was extremely happy when the day was over. All of his thoughts about Keri and the fact that she was cheating on him with her boss solved nothing for him. On his way home he picked up a couple of burgers and some fries, not the kind of food that he normally would eat. He had no appetite, though, so it didn't really matter what he ate. He washed them down with two beers out of the six pack he had picked up on the way home. He knew he wasn't going to be able to drink a dozen beers every night, and had purposely put back the second six pack he had started taking to the checkout counter. At eight o'clock he called room 612 at the Hyatt Inn but there was no answer after 10 rings. The emails had suggested to him that Keri was only in the room from about 9:30 to 10, the normal window for his nightly calls. As a test he called the room every half-hour, making the fourth call at 9:25. None of the calls brought an answer and after 10 rings he hung up each time. His last call was at 9:45, and Keri answered on the second ring. "Hello, Kevin. I guess you didn't fall asleep tonight. You're calling right on time. I was just about to crawl under the covers to get a good night's sleep, but I thought I'd better wait until you phoned." She laughed. "I'm wide awake tonight, Keri. I've just been watching TV and waiting until it was time to call you. What about you? How did you spend your evening?" He hoped that she wouldn't be suspicious with his question. He knew he had asked her the same type of thing before on more than one occasion, so he didn't think that she would be wondering why he asked. "I've been doing the same as you, Kevin. Just lying here watching TV. I just turned it down in fact. Before that I had a nice long hot bath." She was being very chatty, and it seemed to Kevin that she wasn't suspicious of him at all. "That's nice, Keri. You should be well rested for tomorrow night then. We'll have to see what we can do to keep you busy when you get back." She giggled and said, "So you're making plans already, are you? I can hardly wait." They talked for another five minutes without really saying anything of importance. Kevin realized she was telling him one lie after another, and he finally said, "I should go. I have a couple of things to do before I get to bed. I'll see you tomorrow. Bye for now." "Bye, sweetie. I can hardly wait for tomorrow night. Love you." Kevin hung up the phone without saying anything further to her. Once again he waited 15 minutes, patiently watching the clock before calling room 612 at the Hyatt Inn, and once again the phone went unanswered after 10 rings. Kevin went in to work at the normal time the next day, but booked off early for the afternoon. He wanted to be at home when Keri arrived from the airport, ready to confront her. He had no idea how that was going to go, but he did know they weren't going to spend the night under the same roof. One of them would be finding a new place to live before nightfall, and it didn't matter to him which of them it was. He was at home just after 1 p.m. and knew that he would probably have close to an hour's wait before she arrived. Considering how lousy he felt when he discovered what had been going on, he was quite surprised at the way he was patiently waiting for her now. He felt like there was an empty hole inside of his chest, and he knew that the tears weren't too far away, but he willed himself to get through the next couple of hours with his dignity intact. He had spent hours going over their entire life together, and all he could remember were the good things. The emails and what had happened after he found them seemed to belong in another universe. They didn't fit with any of the memories he had of Keri. He was standing there by the kitchen sink when he heard her open the front door. A moment later he could hear the wheels of her luggage rolling along the hallway, coming closer to him and their final seconds as a couple. As she walked into the kitchen it almost seemed as though she didn't see him there at first. "Kevin! What are you doing here? Why aren't you at work?" There had been surprise on her face when she had seen him, but now it was replaced with concern. "I was waiting for you, Keri." He spoke very flatly, without any emotion, his face in the same state as well. She looked at him with more concern and said, "You were waiting for me. Why?" He didn't answer her and instead picked up the stapled sheaf of emails and tossed it onto the table in front of her. She took another glance at him and then reached for the papers. Her look of concern had shifted to one of curiosity, but soon it was replaced with shock. Her face lost its color as she looked from the first sheet through the remaining pages, glancing at each one only for fractions of a second. When she had finished the last of them she tossed them back onto the table and stood there for a few moments while the color slowly returned to her face. She didn't look at him as she said, "So you know." She hesitated another few moments and continued, "How did you get these? These are from my email at work." "The modem...." It was all he could get out as he had to stop to get his emotions under control. Keri caught on quickly though, nodding her head as she said, "The modem crapped out again and my email got left on the screen, didn't it?" Once he was able to speak with control Kevin said, "Yes. If it wasn't for that I would probably never have known. You've been very good at keeping this whole affair secret." Keri didn't say anything more and seemed to be thinking before she slowly turned as she took her cell phone out of her purse. In a few seconds she was speaking into the phone, her back to Kevin. "Kevin knows.... It doesn't matter how he found out, does it?.... Yes.... I'll call a taxi.... I'll meet you there.... Bye." She closed her cell phone and turned partly towards Kevin before saying, "I'll leave. I'm so sorry you found out this way. Tomorrow I'll come back for the rest of my things." She turned again to walk away, pulling her travel bag with her. Kevin looked at her back in disbelief and angrily shouted. "That's it? No explanations? You're only sorry that I found out this way?" Still facing away from him Keri said, "What is there to explain? I've been with Bradley enough in the last six months that being with him completely should become normal very quickly. He's been so good to me. You can't compete, Kevin. I'm sorry." The tears that had been close to the surface came out now as Kevin said, "Good to you! What's this about; the money that he's been spending on you? I know about the handbag, earrings and a few other things. Is that what this is about?" He had to stop speaking because he was starting to lose control of his words. Keri hesitated before answering, "The gifts are only part of it. Bradley does everything first class, and I'm ready to live first class." When she finished speaking she walked down the hall to their bedroom and went inside for almost five minutes while Kevin struggled to control himself. He was having a real problem believing that this was all about what Trey was able to give her. He knew that they were still years away from any semblance of an affluent lifestyle, but the Keri he knew had never complained. Had he misread her that completely? When she returned from the bedroom she was carrying a garment bag that was filled to capacity. She must have called for her taxi from the bedroom because just as she reached the kitchen there were two short blasts from a car horn in front of the house. Without any further conversation Keri gathered up her travel bag and went out the front door. Kevin followed wordlessly and watched as the cabdriver rushed up the sidewalk to take her luggage. She got into the cab and waited for the driver to pull away before taking a quick look back at Kevin. He wasn't sure, but he thought she might be crying. As he walked back to the kitchen Kevin said, "What the fuck just happened here?" There was no one there to answer though, so he sat at the kitchen table and tried to make sense of his once loving wife. The next day, Saturday, Kevin was still in shock and disbelief that Keri had so easily walked away from their marriage, their home and him. Just after noon she phoned to say that she was coming for the rest of her things. When she arrived she was with her father, who had brought their van and some empty boxes. While the two of them took the boxes into the bedroom Kevin walked into the living room and sat quietly on the couch. After a few minutes Keri's father, Joseph Kane, joined Kevin. They sat there quietly for a few minutes before Kevin spoke. "Has she told you what's going on?" Kevin asked. Her father seemed a bit embarrassed, but finally answered, "I'm sorry, Kevin. She seems to have made up her mind about this. Her mother and I don't understand why she would want to leave you for her boss. We've never met the man, but he would have to be truly remarkable to be a better choice than you." Kevin was still confused and said, "It almost seems that it's just about what he can give her. It's all she's said that makes any sense at all, and it doesn't make sense." He looked up at his father and continued, "I know that doesn't sound right, but it's all I can make of it. She hasn't told me that she loves him, or that she stopped loving me." Joseph was quiet for a while, but finally said, "Does it really matter?" Kevin thought about it before replying, "No, I guess not. She's been sleeping with him for months now on a regular basis. I can't forgive that even if it seemed that she wanted me to." The two men continue to sit there in silence until Keri came out and said, "I have everything I want to keep. Anything else you find you can do whatever you want with it; give it away or put it out with the trash." There were tears in her eyes as she took a quick look around the living room before she continued walking outside with one of the boxes. Her father followed her with another before returning for several more trips to take the remaining boxes. When they were gone Kevin returned to his bedroom and noticed that there were still a few of her clothes in the closet that Keri had used. He pulled open the dresser drawers that had been hers and saw that there were a few items there as well. Her lingerie drawer still contained several of the sets that he recalled having given her for birthdays and Valentine Days past. He picked up one of the bras that he had given her and then threw it back into the drawer in disgust. "She could have at least taken them with her and then thrown them out. It's almost like she wants to rub it in." He went out to the kitchen and got a couple of green garbage bags. Within minutes he had put the rest of her clothing into the bags and tied them, ready to be dropped off for donation to the needy. Another bag that contained cosmetics and toiletries that she had left behind in the bedroom and bathroom went into the garbage. An hour later those two rooms showed no sign that Keri had ever lived there. He knew he would probably find other items, but for now he felt satisfied with having gotten rid of the last obvious traces of her. He spent the rest of the afternoon lying on the bed they had once shared, thinking of things he should be doing and a variety of revenge scenarios. In the end he realized that even though he was angry he wasn't a violent or vengeful person, and that he'd be better off devoting his energies to simply forgetting about her, as difficult as that was going to be. The weekend was soon over although Kevin couldn't really remember a whole lot about it. He'd picked up a couple more six packs, and they were all sitting in the trash now, empty of their original contents. He knew it wasn't his style to drink to excess, but it was the only way he felt that he could get through the weekend. Trying to understand why Keri had done what she had done was driving him crazy, and the only solution was to make himself stop asking the question. By Monday morning he felt a bit better, more resigned to the facts of what had happened regardless of whether or not he could explain them. He was not really with it on Monday or Tuesday at work. On Tuesday he phoned the Crosby and Knox office to get a forwarding address for Keri's mail. They didn't transfer him to her when he asked; instead the receptionist came back a few minutes later with the information that Keri would email him what was needed. Later that night when he checked his email there was one from Keri's work account containing only the forwarding address she was using, an address he recognized as the 9th floor condo where Trey resided. Wednesday started as a normal day at work for Kevin until he got paged to the office for a phone call at midmorning. It was his bank, anxious that he should do something about the mortgage payment that had just failed to clear his account. After a few minutes of heated discussion with the loans officer at the bank Kevin discovered that both of the bank accounts he and Keri had shared were now showing zero balances. A few more questions revealed the fact that a total of almost $20,000 had been transferred out of the accounts on Monday. Kevin was now in a bind for money, and although he could scarcely afford to do so he booked off for the time necessary to try and straighten out this mess. His first action was to go directly to the law offices of Crosby and Knox. He was furious with Keri and was going to insist on getting half of the cash back into the accounts. As far as he was concerned she had stolen almost $10,000 from him. He had a full head of steam when he entered the law office, bypassed the receptionist and headed straight for Keri's desk. She didn't see him coming and looked up in fright when he started talking loudly to her from 10 feet away. "What the hell do you think you're doing clearing out both of our bank accounts? I want half of that money back, now." Bradley Knox III chose that moment to step out of his office to see what was going on, and as soon as Kevin caught sight of him he made a change of course toward the lawyer in the three-piece suit. Kevin was able to get within 2 feet of him, but was met by the slamming of his office door. He could hear the deadbolt being turned as he rattled the doorknob. Obviously he wasn't going to be getting to speak with Trey anytime soon. He quickly turned back to Keri just in time to cut her off from leaving her desk. She quickly sat back down again, her face and neck very red and a look of embarrassment on her face. "Well, where is my money, Keri. What do you think you're doing? Is all of this so much about money that you're willing to take what doesn't belong to you?" Kevin was practically shouting now and there were people throughout the office listening to him and starting to gather discreetly nearby, wanting to see what was going on. Keri finally found her voice and said, "I'm taking the money and you can have the car, house and furniture." She reached into a pile of envelopes and packages that was awaiting pickup by their courier and pulled out an envelope that she jammed into his hand. "It's all in here, and if you want to argue about it get a lawyer. I'd really hoped you would get this before you found out the money was gone, and I think you'll find out it's actually quite fair." Before he could open the envelope two security guards rushed up, both of them with a hand on the Taser holstered on their belt. The burly one said, "You had better leave right now. If you fail to leave immediately you'll be charged. We are authorized to use these Tasers, so don't challenge us." Kevin realized that not doing as they said would result in nothing good, so he turned to leave after saying, "You have turned into one money hungry bitch. I don't understand how you could change so completely. The Keri I remember wouldn't have acted like this." He took one more look towards the locked office of Keri's boss and shouted, "You stay locked in your office Trey, you coward." He noticed that a couple of Keri's coworkers chuckled at his remark, obviously enjoying getting to see the timid lawyer's reaction to Kevin's visit. Memories When he got back to his car he tore the envelope open. He soon realized that Keri had given all of the details of their assets and liabilities to Trey, and that he had put them into a spreadsheet that seemed to show things working out equally between the two of them if she took the cash and he kept the car, house and furniture. They had very few liabilities besides the mortgage and their outstanding credit card balances. The spreadsheet showed that each would be responsible for their own credit card debt so at least he didn't have to worry about that. As he looked more closely at the figures he realized that the whole thing depended on him accepting his share as being the equity in an overvalued house containing furniture that was not likely worth what the two of them claimed. He realized that if he were to try to get his $20,000 share in cash it would never happen as their figures did not include realtor and legal fees for selling the house for starters. It looked good on paper and was just the kind of thing he would expect from a shyster lawyer. After jamming the papers back into the envelope Kevin drove to his bank where he managed to secure a line of credit that would cover his outstanding mortgage payment and anything else that could show up before he collected his next paycheck and deposited it into the account. He only hoped that he would be able to financially handle the mortgage as well as the new loan and all of the household expenses until he could get caught up on things. He had always been able to rely on their savings to tide them over any fluctuations in their income or the unexpected expenses that came up from time to time. He knew it would take him a couple of months at least to get things under control. The next two weeks were a seesaw of emotions for Kevin. The day after his visit to Crosby and Knox he got an official letter warning him to stay away from Keri and Bradley Knox III or he would have a charge of stalking laid against him along with an order to maintain a minimum 100 yard distance from the two of them. It got him angry enough that he almost decided to call their bluff on the issue, but eventually realized that that was likely to work against him. A week later his anger returned when he received notice that Keri had filed for divorce using the terms for settlement that the two of them had sent him in the spreadsheet. $200 and another couple of hours of lost wages resulted in having another lawyer in a three piece suit tell him that while the settlement wasn't perhaps totally fair, he would spend more than it was worth to fight it. When he wasn't being aggravated by letters and notices from Keri and Trey, life was beginning to settle down for Kevin. It was three weeks after Keri left that he realized he needed to do more work to erase some of the memories of her from his home. Every time he walked into the bedroom he could see her image seated at the makeup table she always used, or lying on the bed reading a book, one of her favorite leisure pastimes. He began changing things around the house to create a new atmosphere, first removing the makeup table and putting it in storage in the basement. He found he was able to rearrange the bedroom furniture enough to give the room a new look, one that hadn't been used by he and Keri. In the bathroom he was able to remove several of the decorations she had placed on the walls, giving that room a new feel as well. When he was finished he felt better about it, more able to call the house his home. While he was making changes to the house he realized there were more obvious reminders of Keri that he was going to have to deal with. These were the pictures of her, or the two of them, that were hung on several walls and sitting on the end tables and mantle in the living room. He finally decided one night that he would remove all of these images and reminders of her, and made a tour around the house removing pictures from their frames and putting them into a box that he had found in the basement. When he finished that he moved to their collection of photo albums that were kept in a bookcase in the living room. The first album he picked up contained almost nothing but pictures of the two of them and after removing several that were of him alone, or friends he still valued, he put the book with the remaining pictures into the box. The next album was from their wedding, and the only photos that he kept from it were of him with his parents. They had both passed away since the wedding and the photos were some of the last records he had of them. The rest of the book went into the box. He continued leafing through the pages of the remaining albums, leaving most of the pictures before adding the books to the box. The last album he took from the shelf contained primarily photos that he had brought into their marriage. Many were of his childhood and high school years, although there were a few of Keri that he removed and added to the pile in the box. As he leafed through the book of memories of his younger years, he came across one that caused him to pause. It was a picture of him with Carol Reese, his girlfriend through most of his high school years. He wondered what she was doing now and what had happened to her after she left for University. They had broken up when she left, and he had eventually gone on to trade school and Keri. This entire book of photos was carefully placed back on the shelf, and the small stack of photos that he had kept from the other books was placed on top of it ready to be added to it at a later date. For now he felt he had done quite enough, and he would return to the pictures another day. He had been able to cut away the last obvious reminders of Keri although it didn't eliminate the many times that he would think of her during the day and especially at night as he lay in what had been their marital bed. Before he went to bed that night he took out the local phone book and looked up the entries for Reese. There was none for Carol, which he didn't find surprising, but he also didn't find one for her widowed mother, Marianne Reese. He still remembered their address, and it wasn't listed under any Reese. There were only a few Reese entries, none of which connected with his memories of Carole. His curiosity satisfied, he put the book away and didn't think any more about the only other woman who had ever meant anything to him. About six weeks after Keri's hurried departure from his life Kevin was disturbed by a knock at his front door that took him from his time-killing nightly appointment with the boob tube. Night after night he had sat there watching shows that had absolutely no importance to him beyond being a means to fill the hours between supper and bed. When he answered the door he was surprised to see that it was Keri's brother, Robert Kane. "Hi, Robert. Come in. I wasn't expecting to see you." Kevin stepped back to let Keri's older sibling step into the house. Once he had passed by Kevin, Robert turned and clapped his brother on the shoulder and said, "How are you doing, Kevin? I tried to call you but the message said your number was no longer in service." "Oh, yeah; I canceled my regular phone service and just use my cell now. I didn't see the need for the extra expense." Kevin led the other man into the living room where the two of them sat in separate chairs. "Can I get you a beer Robert?" "Sure, Kevin, I don't mind if you do." Kevin left for a moment and returned with two opened bottles, passing one to his longtime friend. "I don't imagine you want a glass with that." "No, this is fine." The two men each had a drink from their bottles before Kevin asked, "So, what brings you here? I wondered if you'd ever be around again, what with Keri having split." Robert shifted a bit uncomfortably in his chair before saying, "Actually, that's why I'm here. You know that she's been my wife's best friend for ages, and two days ago Keri came by for a visit with her. I told Keri what I thought of her cheating on you with her boss, and after that Keri and Susan went into the kitchen to talk alone. I went out into the garage because I was too pissed at her to hang around." "Thanks for the vote of confidence, Robert, but I don't want to come between you and your sister. What's done is done, and I'm trying to carry on with my life." "Well, she is my kid sister, and I know this will eventually pass from between her and me, but right now I don't have much use for her. I know my parents aren't happy either, but they'll stick with her no matter what." Kevin looked glumly at his beer before saying, "Family comes first." Robert carried on, "Anyway, I left the door to the kitchen ajar when I went into the garage, and I could hear the two of them talking. Even though I wasn't interested in talking to her, I decided to listen to what Keri had to say for herself. I went and sat by the kitchen door and just listened." Kevin was clearly interested in what Robert would have to say as he leaned forward and said, "Did she have much to say about it? I'm still trying to figure out what she sees in the guy, besides his money." "I think you sort of hit the nail on the head. I won't be able to quote them word for word, but I can give you the gist of their conversation. When you caught her through her emails, she made a quick decision to drop you and go for broke with her boss. She figured you'd never forgive her, so she took plan B." "Wasn't she already committed to him?" asked Kevin, looking a little puzzled. "Apparently not, from what I heard. She told Susan that although the gifts and lifestyle with Bradley are great, she said you had him beat by a mile in the bedroom. She made it sound like she would have broken it off with him very soon, perhaps even as soon as the next week if you hadn't caught her." "Woulda, coulda, shoulda. It doesn't matter now." Kevin took another drink from his bottle and sat back further in his chair. "She realizes that; she knows it's over. I just figured you might like to know that she's expressing a lot of regrets for the whole thing now." "It sure hasn't stopped her from proceeding full speed ahead with the divorce. I got more papers from the court today. I guess Trey must have a friendly judge expediting things for her." "I never heard anything about that from her. I did hear the two of them use the expression 'starter husband' though. It sounds like they had talked about it before, and when she first got involved with him she figured he'd be a step up for her. That's another thing; Susan was apparently aware of all of this right from the beginning. I'm so upset with Susan I haven't dared to bring up the subject with her, for fear of what I might say." "So she thinks of me as her starter husband; isn't that just great?" Kevin paused to get his anger under control before continuing, "I don't want you to get into an argument with Susan on my account, Robert." "It wasn't just Keri who was thinking that way. From the tone of their conversation it sounds like Susan might have toyed with the same ideas as Keri. I'm going to talk to her about all of this soon, as soon as I think I can talk to her without losing my temper. My wife has a few things to answer for." The two men carried on their conversation for another half hour before Robert got up to leave. He had added a few more minor details from the overheard conversation, but nothing of significance to Kevin, who was still thinking about the whole starter husband thing as he finally drifted off to sleep a couple of hours later. After work the next day Kevin stopped at one of the major grocery stores that were on his route home. He had decided that it was time to start eating more healthy foods; something better than the fast food he'd been living on for the last six weeks. He had just emptied his cart onto the checkout belt when the cashier asked, "Aren't you Kevin Reilly?" Kevin looked up and immediately recognized her as a former high school classmate. "Hi, Wendy; I didn't realize you worked here. It's been a long time." They carried on a pleasant conversation while Wendy checked out his order. After paying for his purchase Kevin asked, "Say, Wendy, you were quite friendly with Carol Reese; have you heard anything about what became of her or her mother?" Wendy thought for a moment before saying, "I remember hearing that she got married, but that was years ago. Her mother still lives in the same house, although she remarried a few years ago." "I hadn't heard that. Do you know Mrs. Reese's new married name?" Wendy thought some more and replied, "I think it was Smith something; Smitherman or Smithson maybe." The two old friends finally exchanged goodbyes after agreeing to meet for coffee one day. As he returned home Kevin was in a better mood than he had been for quite some time. Meeting an old friend had brought back a lot of pleasant memories to his mind, and he was grateful for anything that took his mind off his soon-to-be ex-wife. After he made himself a healthy supper for the first time in weeks, he went out for a short jog, a warm up for what he had decided would become his new nightly routine; proper meals followed by regular exercise. Shortly after returning from his run he decided to look for Carol's mother's phone number and soon found it listed under Smithers in the phone book. Knowing that there was no time like the present, he dialed the number. Kevin was soon speaking with Marianne Smithers and got right to the point. "I was hoping to get Carol's address. I thought I might write her just to say hello." "I was just going out the door to her place. Her name is Carol Janzen now, and you don't have to write her; you can just phone her." She proceeded to give him the phone number and added the information that Carol was now a widow. Since she was in a rush to leave the two quickly exchanged goodbyes. After he was off the phone Kevin looked up Carol Janzen in the phone book and noted that her address placed her in an area of the city best-known as a troubled neighborhood of low income housing. He was quite surprised at that and wondered why Carol would be living there. He decided that one day he would give her a call. The next few days saw quite a change in Kevin. His new healthier lifestyle rubbed off on his attitude, and he was now much more cheerful at work. He could actually begin to imagine that life without Keri would be possible after all. Just as that new mindset was taking hold a new email from Keri gave him more to ponder. It was a very short email comprised of only one line that simply stated "I never thought of you as a starter husband." It was evident that Robert and Susan had had the discussion Robert was contemplating when he left Kevin's a few days previously. Susan had apparently passed on the information that Robert had overheard the women's conversation and had given the information to Kevin. The message brought everything back to Kevin that he had been trying to forget. After considering her message for several minutes he sent her a reply, "Actions speak louder than words." She never replied to that comment. ++++++++++ Almost exactly three months after Keri had walked out of their house to join Trey, Kevin received his final divorce papers. The apparent ability of Trey to rush these papers through the system surprised him. After he returned from his now routine jog, he celebrated his status as one of the newly divorced with a single cold beer. When he had finished drinking it he went to his computer and sent Keri the message "You got what you wanted." It was the last email between them, and she never replied to it. Later that night, after rereading and filing away his divorce decree, Kevin decided it was time to call Carol Janzen to say hello. He had considered calling her several times over the past weeks since he had been given her number, but he simply hadn't yet been ready to take that step. Since he was divorced and she was a widow he thought that perhaps they could share a dinner or a couple of drinks one night for old time's sake. With that in mind he dialed her number. When she answered he had just identified himself when she said, "Kevin! I'm so glad you called. Mom told me that you had phoned, and I was beginning to think you had decided not to call me." The two old friends spent the next hour bringing each other up-to-date on the major points of their lives since high school. Kevin found out that Carol had been married to Frank Janzen during her last year of university. He was in the National Guard and had been called up for service in Iraq. Three months after he arrived there she was told that a teenager on a bicycle had self detonated at the checkpoint her husband was manning, and he and another soldier had been killed. It had left her a widow with a now four-year-old daughter, Chrissy. The two of them were living on the survivor's pension she was receiving from the Army, but once her daughter was old enough to attend school Carol intended to go back to work in her field as an Occupational Therapist. Kevin in turn told Carol of his new status and some of the details of how and why he had become newly divorced. Eventually it was time for them to say goodbye, as Carol had to put her daughter to bed. Kevin decided now was the time to see whether Carol would be interested in getting together with him. "So, Carol, what do you think of getting together for supper or a couple of drinks one night?" Carol hesitated before answering, "I'm sorry Kevin; I don't think I'm ready for that yet. My daughter is my big concern right now. Maybe another time." Kevin was quite disappointed as he had thought they were reconnecting after all the years. "That's OK Carol; I hope I didn't upset you by asking. Goodbye and good luck Carol." He was finding that her reaction bothered him quite a bit, and so he had quickly hung up. Being officially divorced and then rejected by his old girlfriend combined to take him back to the refrigerator for another beer and when he had finished it he went straight to bed. It had turned into an emotionally hard day for him. +++++++++ The next two months passed by quickly. Kevin's routine had become what kept him going, and he knew that eventually he was going to have to decide what to do with the rest of his life. He knew that there was no point in jumping into another relationship so he had put that part of his life aside, wanting to wait until Keri was banished to the very fringes of his memory. He was still finding it difficult to spend more than a few hours without thinking of her although he could tell these recurring memories were becoming less troubling to him as more time passed. Kevin had canceled his newspaper delivery months ago when he had eliminated his landline phone and premium cable channels in an effort to cut his expenses. He was now dependent on reading the papers left in the lunchroom by his coworkers who infrequently brought one to work. He would sometimes listen to local news on the radio, but again it was not on a regular basis. It was in this uninformed state that he went to work this particular morning. During the morning coffee break he was engaged in a spirited work-related conversation with another mechanic when one of the other men tossed a newspaper in front of him and said, "You better read that, Kevin." Kevin picked up the newspaper and read in the headline, "One Dead, One Critical." The accompanying story told of a fatal single car accident that had occurred the night before on the road leading from the local country club. The driver had lost control of his car, and it had gone into the ditch where it rolled several times. The driver, identified as Bradley Knox III, had been thrown from the car which then rolled over him. The passenger, Keri Reilly, had been critically injured and was now in intensive care in the local hospital. The police report indicated that alcohol may have been a factor in the accident. Memories Memories are all I have left now. I'm eighty-five years old and live in an assisted living home where I have everything I could want except for a hot pussy in my bed at night. My cock doesn't even get hard anymore what with all the drugs the doctor has me on for high blood pressure just to keep my ticker going for another day or week or month or so. As if I were concerned about dying...hell, I've been living with death as my only faithful companion for a long time now. Doesn't that quack with all his many degrees know that. We all die sooner or later. Right now I'd settle for sooner, but that isn't what this story is all about. This story, my story of my one true love, started almost thirty years ago right after my wife, Sandy, died of a very fast acting cancer. Thirty years ago...it seems like it was yesterday. I was in my mid- to late-fifties and enjoying life. There was this real dyed in the wool Southern-bred lady at church who had caught my eye five years earlier and we had carried on a mild flirtation over the years that had us both wanting for more, much more than we could reasonably hope for from each other. She was divorced, but I was still a married man and things like that were not the proper way to go about doing things. Still the pecks on the cheek and the hugs lasted just a little bit longer than was proper, what with me being married and all. Kate was the name of this woman and while she wasn't the youngest single woman in church, she was the one with whom I clicked almost from the beginning. Ours was a platonic lusting relationship carried on at arms' length over that period of five years. That changed shortly after my wife died. Still, we were discreet around the church and at church functions. Before I go on, let me give you some idea of what kind of a couple we were. Kate was 5'6" tall and thin as a fence post having at best a A-cup set of tits though most of the time she had little or no need for a bra to hold them up. Small as they were, they stood up proudly and just begged to be suckled. I on the other hand was 5'8" and rather overweight at 225 pounds...some people, including my doctor, would say that I was obese, though they would have to admit that I was a solid obese with little flab on me. In other words, Kate and I were the "odd couple" in the parish. Her Stan Laurel to my Oliver Hardy, but we did love each other for the people we were. It took us three months or so after Sandy died for Kate and I to finally get each other undressed and in a common bed. How it happened was almost comical in retrospect since we were still being discreet and had no intention of fucking each other's brains out that Sunday afternoon. We both liked to imbibe a bit from time to time and on that particular Sunday, we had gone out to lunch and then ended up at my house. After we got there, Sandy finished half a bottle of wine in almost the blink of an eye and I had a total of about nine fingers of good single malt Scotch to wash down the remnants of my lunch. "Dick, is it getting warm in here or is it just me?" As Kate asked this question, she unbuttoned to top two buttons of her light summer dress. "Yeah, it is a bit warmer than it was. Want me to turn up the air conditioner?" "If you want to." I stood up with an obvious bulge in the front of my trousers and Kate's eyes lit up like a Christmas tree going into overload. I turned the air conditioner to a more comfortable setting and walked back to my chair. Instead of sitting down, I picked up my drink and turned towards Kate. What I saw shocked the hell out of me. The top of her dress was around her waist and her braless tits, the same ones I had tried so many times to see, were on display. "You'll get cold dressed liked that." "Nope." "Why not?" "You are going to keep me warm." "Are you sure?" Now, I wasn't talking to some eighteen year old virgin on her first date. Kate and I were both in our mid-fifties at the time and had both been around the block a couple of times having both been married before. Her's had ended in divorce and mine, well we know how it ended. Still, my mouth took on a cottony feeling that refused to go away despite repeated efforts on my Scotch's part. I drained and refilled my glass as Kate stood up and let her dress fall to the floor. Then she slowly slid her panties over her slim hips and let gravity take them to join the dress. She then picked up her glass of wine and sipped as I admired her naked body for the first time. Kate's breasts while small were perfectly formed on her chest and the coal black hair between her legs was something I had hoped to see since I do enjoy a hairy woman much better than a bald woman. I guess my eyes bulged just a bit at the magnificent sight that was standing not six feet away. I felt as if I had died and gone to heaven and could not believe that after all this time I had finally seen this beautiful woman without any clothes on. It was literally a dream come true. "Do you like what you see?" I nodded my head still unable to speak due to my cotton mouth. "Your turn." "W-w-what?" I managed to stammer out after a particularly large swallow of some awfully mellow Scotch. "I've shown you mine. It's your turn to show me yours." Again, I merely nodded. As I stood there looking at Kate's nakedness, I pulled my polo shirt over my head and dropped it at my feet. Kicking my shoes off while never taking my eyes off Kate, I also loosened my belt and undid the clasp that held my trousers up. With only a gentle push from me gravity took the hint and deposited my trousers at my feet. I was now dressed in only socks and jockey shorts which were bulging almost indecently with my very hard cock. I took off the socks next after putting my glass on the table. My eyes still hadn't left Kate's, but her eyes had drifted to my crotch. I hooked both thumbs inside the waistband of my jockeys and pushed them down. My cock was a major impediment that I finally managed to overcome. I bent over at the waist to clear my feet and straightened up to find Kate standing right next to me. Without a single word being said by either of us, we fell into a deep passionate kiss. My hands traveled down and cupped Kate's ass cheeks. Her's went for pay dirt and clasped my cock in almost a stranglehold. Slowly, Kate started pumping my cock as I reached between her legs searching for an entrance into paradise. I found that entrance and inserted a finger into her pussy while rubbing her clit with another finger. She was already sopping wet to the touch and moaned her appreciation of my finger fucking her while she continued pumping my cock with even more vigor. Now Kate may have been Southern bred to be a demure lady, but I was soon to find out that she had a wild side second to none. Southern demureness and being a lady had nothing to do with her incredible sexual appetite. Kate broke the kiss and moaned "God, but you don't know how long I've wanted this to happen." "Probably just about as long as I wanted it to happen" was my response as I nibbled on her earlobe. I brought a hand up to her right breast and rolled the nipple between my fingers before cupping the entire tit in the palm of my hand. "I wish they were bigger." "Why? I like them just the way they are...anything over a handful is a total waste." "So you like my tiny tits?" "They're perfect--just like the rest of you." "Are you trying to flatter your way into my pussy?" "No." "No? You mean you don't want to fuck my dripping pussy with that hard cock of yours?" Her words both shocked me in their vulgarity and thrilled me with the thoughts of what they might portend. "Oh, I want to fuck it all right, it's just that I'm not flattering you when I tell you the truth. Let's go to someplace more comfortable to continue our show and tell, shall we?" I picked up my Scotch bottle and her half empty second bottle of wine and started towards the back of the house. "Grab the glasses and follow me. The bedroom is back here." My cock led the way to where I hoped all my fantasies were to come true. After we set the bottles and glasses down on the bedside table, we met each other by the side of the bed and kissed passionately as our foreplay continued. I finally, after what seemed like seconds but were probably minutes instead, broke the kiss and gently turned Kate to the bed pushing her backwards until her knees caught on the mattress and she fell back onto the covers. I immediately dropped to my knees and started to kiss the insides of her thighs traveling up each side without touch her cunt lips with my mouth or tongue. I soon had her squirming on the bed as I reached up and pinched her nipples between my fingers. Kate's breathing was getting ragged and I kept up my assault still without touching her pussy. "Please, Dick." "Please, what?" "Please stop teasing me." "Why? I want you to really enjoy our lovemaking. I want you so hot that your pussy juice will scald my cock." "Dick, just stop it and fuck my cunt!" I ignored her plea and lowered my mouth to her pussy and let my tongue trace the inside of both of her nether lips before capturing her elongated clit between my lips and sucking on it like I hoped she would suck my cock. Kate let out a long loud scream of joy as my mouth and tongue put her over the top into the first orgasm she had as a result of my lovemaking. My cock was now as hard as a steel rod and I stood up over Kate. She looked at it with glazed eyes and smiled knowing what was coming next. I reached down and draped her knees over my arms exposing her pulsating opening to my gaze. It always had amazed me how such a small hole could first open enough to take almost any size cock and then open enough to give birth to a baby. I only gazed for a few seconds before lowering myself into contact with that wonderful hole that all women have and that few truly know how to use...come to think of it, most men don't know how to use their cocks either. I slowly played my cock in the folds between her magnificently large pussy lips until they were coated with her slippery fluids. With each pass, my cock head went just a millimeter further in until I had gone as far as I could without penetrating her dripping pussy. At that point, I slowly and agonizingly inserted my fleshy steel rod into her blast furnace cunt. It must have taken me at least a full two minutes before I bottomed out in her carnal cavern. I could feel my cock head bumping into her cervix just as Kate started a slow fucking movement. I matched her slow pace determined to make her take the lead and to prolong this experience for as long as I could. Not a word had passed between us during this entire process of insertion. We locked our lips into a passionate and sloppy kiss using a lot of tongue. I knew she could taste her pussy juice on my tongue and that just served to excite me even more. I could feel Kate's hands on my back, her finger nails drawing lines wherever they made contact with my skin. In turn, I kneaded her tits making sure to pay attention to what I was finding were her super sensitive nipples. Kate moaned her appreciation into my mouth and picked up the pace of her humping against my cock which was now pistoning in and out of her pussy at a moderate pace. Her back arched as I felt the convulsions ripple through her cunt. I slowed my pace trying to keep my impending cum under control. "Goddamn it! Give me your fucking cum, Dick. I'm ready for it. Fuck me and give it to me." "Where do you want it?" "Deep in my fucking cunt where it's supposed to go. Where the hell else would I want it, Dick?" "I was thinking of some alternative places." "Not this time! Fuck me in my cunt this time and there may be other places for you to fuck me later. I've waited too long to feel you spurt your hot cum into my cunt. Fill me up. Make my cunt overflow with your seed. Fuck me, you bastard. Fuck me!" Once again my pumping went into high gear and the squishing sound coming from where we were joined only added to the excitement of the moment. My cock ballooned just a little bit more and Kate felt it. "Give it to me. NOW!" And I did. I'd like to remember that it was the most fantastic cum in my life, but it wasn't. It did, however, come in a very, very close second to the time I had taken my wife's cherry when we were both teenagers and much more frisky than I was thirty years later. Still, I filled Kate's cunt to overflowing without too much effort shooting six or seven ropes of my seed deep into her clasping pussy. As the final shot of my thick cum trickled out of my cock and into her cunt, I fell beside her on the bed and almost literally passed out. It was only a few seconds later that I felt Kate's mouth wrapped around my cock. She was sucking and licking it clean of both of our juices. I pulled her up and swung her around so that we went into a sixty-nine position and proceeded to lap up the combination of my cum and her slick juices from her cunt. Kate went back to work on my cock and when I told her that I was miraculously going to shoot another load she only doubled her efforts until I released my sperm into her sucking mouth. As my sperm spurted into her mouth, I felt a shiver as more juice trickled into my greedy mouth. "Hmm, Kate, you taste good." "So do you. How do you like the taste of your cum?" "I like it, but not as much as I like your pussy juice." "Well, I like your cum much better than my pussy juice." Looking down, I could see Kate's pubic hair matted with the combination of our juices. "Quite the mess, isn't it?" "You could say so." "Was I worth the wait?" "Yes, and I only hope I was worth the wait for you." "You were, Dick. I love you. Have I ever told you that before?" "A couple of minutes ago by your actions. And, by the way, I love you, too." "Good, now that is settled, where do we go from here?" "I don't know, Kate. I know that I want to have you in my life forever, but I'm not too sure about marrying you." "Well, I wasn't planning on getting married again. I just want to be your best friend, a best friend with bedroom privileges." "Done!" "Seal it with a kiss, Dick." And we did seal it with a kiss. That was thirty years ago. We kept our own houses, acted discreet at church, and were wild with one another in bed. Kate died six months ago and now I am stuck in this "assisted living" home. I've lost the two loves of my life and, at my age, there isn't likely to be another one. Now, I'm afraid you have to excuse me. That pretty young aide is coming down the hall to give me an all over bath. She uses a sponge on most of me, but her tongue does wonders for my cock and balls. So what if she is young enough to be my granddaughter? She has a hairy cunt and small tits, just like Kate did...and, I'm just a dirty eighty-five old man full of nothing but pleasant memories. Memories "Fuck off!" "Now don't be like that you miserable old bastard." "Don't try to sweet talk me you interfering biddy, can't you see that I want to sleep?" "Sleep? That's all you ever do. If you moved your miserable arse out of that bed and walked to the bathroom I won't have to drag you there. Or would you prefer me to give you a sponge bath?" I grumbled out of bed. Fuck these nurses are a bloody nuisance. You'd think they had nothing better to do than disturb an old man, such as myself, a senior citizen if you please, but no, in they come, all smiley faced and happy. It's almost as if they were looking forward to inflicting misery on me. And this one in particular, something about her disturbed me, her smile, to a lesser person than me, would have been infectious, and those tits of hers, they stood out from her chest like a couple of battering rams. I was so tempted to reach out and touch them, and the bitch knew it, she would lean over me to do something that the normal nurse would walk around the bed to do, just so that she could wave those magnificent tits in my face. And when I was in the shower there was never any privacy, I couldn't lather up the 'old boy' for fear of her catching me at it and accusing me of jacking off. She would wash it for me and lather him up and make snide remarks about his former prowess. "I bet that this fine fellow has seen the inside of many a pussy in his time." Things like that. She would even kiss him on the head and tell me that she would like to take him in her mouth and give me a blow job to remember. The problem with that was, and she was well aware of this, that she could tell me that one day, and, when she told me again the next day it would be a new experience for me. One of the problems of my age is that my short term memory is, is, I can't even remember what I was about to say. But my long term memory was fine, and that's the reason why she disturbs me so much. I was stretched out in a hospital bed, there was a traction frame hanging off my left leg, the result of the driver of a car not seeing me as I rode my motor cycle through an intersection, resulting in my left leg being badly mangled. The initial prognosis was that I could wave good-bye to it, it was gone for all money. But the Doctors in that hospital didn't take into account my fighting spirit. There was no way that I would part with the part of my body that stops my left bum cheek from dragging on the ground. "Hi Tommy, how are you today?" A vision of starched white apron, blue shirt, also starched, funny little cap, also starched, perched on her pretty blonde head, a smile to die for and a pair of tits to live for. They were rebels those tits, they pushed against the starch of her apron as if to say, 'you ain't gonna hold me in check!' A wicked grin would arrive on her face as she leaned over me to stick the thermometer in my mouth and take my pulse. How she ever got an accurate measure from either procedure beat me, after all I was young and there was an abundance of testosterone galloping around my body. "If you keep doing that, when I get back on my feet you'll never be able to run fast enough the get away from me." "You're all talk, you are. You're like the dog that chased the car, he had no idea what to do with it if he ever managed to catch it." "I know what to do with you if I catch you." "Yeah, right. I bet you're still a virgin." She chuckled when my reddened face confirmed her supposition. "I might still be a virgin but I know what to do with you." I tried to sound experienced, she didn't buy it. I reached out my hand to grab her, but she easily avoided it. There was a chuckle in her voice as she admonished me. "If you keep that up I'll have to get Sister to look after you and she won't take any nonsense from you." "No, please don't do that, I'll behave." I didn't succeed at sincerity. She gave me a quick peck on the cheek as she left. We had become friends in a strange way, the constant banter whenever she attended to my needs was infectious, and some of the other patients in that ward began to get involved in it. Jenny Martin was a third year student Nurse, she had a few months to go before she graduated and would be let loose on the world at large, so I felt that I would have to make the most of our short time together. She, while she was always full of fun and humour, was a very good nurse, she was efficient without being an automaton, and she had a caring nature. Her humour took my mind off the pain from my slowly healing leg, while she was with me I felt no pain. I even helped her get back at one of the other nurses who had done something to upset her. This other nurse was of the opinion that she was the best nurse on the floor, and, while technically she might have been right, she was such a miserable bitch that none of the other nurses, or the patients liked her. Jenny discovered that when she was tired, like at the end of a night shift, she would panic if something wasn't right, so when she was going around our Ward doing the early morning ob's, I rolled up a handkerchief and shoved it into the pit of the arm on which she would be taking my pulse, by squeezing my arm hard to my side, surreptitiously, I effectively stopped my pulse. In her tiredness she didn't think to use the other arm, or investigate why I had no pulse, she just raced off to find the duty Doctor. Of course by the time he arrived my pulse was beating normally again. One night, when the other patients in the ward were asleep I heard the screens being pulled around my bed. Not expecting any treatment or ob's at that time of the night I was a little concerned until I saw Jenny slip into the space next to the bed, My immediate thought was that I was about to become the victim of one of her jokes, but no. She pulled my bedclothes down and raised my gown up over my waist. She took my cock in her hand and began to stroke him into life. Then I felt the warmth of her mouth engulf him, it was all that I could do to stop myself from moaning out loud. But there was more to come. She climbed onto the bed and straddled me. She was wearing no underclothes and she had hiked her skirt up around her hips. I could just make out the shadow of her pubic hair against her pale skin. She fed my spit slick cock into her pussy and began to ride him, slowly, sensuously. Taking my hand she slipped it behind the bib of her starched apron, I undid the buttons and my hand moved inside to cup her breast. It was firm, and the nipple hard, and as I fondled her I could feel the juices begin to flow more strongly from her pussy, my cock slid more freely in and out of her. I had never felt anything like this before in my life, I was no longer a virgin and this would have to beat the usual amateurish fumbling in the back seat of a car at the Drive In Movies, the traditional way to lose your virginity at that time. Just as I was about to explode in a torrent of testosterone charged come, she collapsed on my chest and kissed me, passionately, on the lips. "Wow, you did know what to do. That was the best screw I've ever had." We lay there for some time, until he had shrunk and fallen out of her, before she moved. She climbed off the bed and began to strip the bottom sheet from it. "Why are you doing that now?" "Silly, we've made a mess all over it and we can't have the day shift finding out that you've been entertaining someone in your bed, can we? I'll just shove it down the laundry chute and no-one will know where it came from." She had obviously come prepared because she already had a clean sheet waiting to go on the bed. Despite my not being able to get out of bed, within five minutes all trace of our tryst had been erased, even the remains of my come that had run down her leg, and the mess that was still on my cock, had been wiped off on the soiled sheet. The next day I discovered that Jenny had been transferred to another Ward and that was the last that I saw of her until her graduation day when she came in to say good-bye, she would be leaving the hospital for good. There was sadness in her eyes and no promise to come and see me again. I couldn't understand this at all. Life became dull without her to keep me amused with her good natured insults. I found out from one of the other nurses that Jenny had got married a week after her graduation. I was heart-broken, I had planned to find out where she was and go and see her. I lapsed into a depressed state that had the Doctors worried. I was eventually released from hospital and spent the next six months in a Rehab centre preparing for my return to the real world. I would not throw my leg over a motor cycle again, ever. But that injury would plague me for the rest of my life. I now walked with a limp and the bone is not as strong as it once was, which brings me to the reason that I am here in this hospital so many years later. I had climbed a ladder to retrieve a tennis ball for the kids next door, when the ladder slipped and I fell awkwardly, breaking my leg again. The Doctors decided that I needed to have an operation to put a pin in the bone so that it wouldn't break so easily again. I hate hospitals. I hate the smell of these places. I hate the food that is bland and tasteless. I hate the boredom of the place when you are confined to bed with nothing more than a TV for company. I hate visiting time when your friends and relatives arrive with nothing to say and hog the TV that you didn't want to watch in the first place. The only redeeming feature is when the nurses are like this one. She is much like Jenny, who I fell hopelessly in love with so many years ago, only to have her disappear and then find out that she got married. This one, as if by coincidence, was also called Jenny, Jenny O'Connor. She was in so many ways so much like my previous Nurse Jenny that they, no it couldn't be possible. I had one of those new fangled fibreglass casts on that meant that I had to have a shower every day, and this Nurse Jenny made the whole experience fun, but not too much fun, we didn't want to run the risk of me falling down and breaking something else, so I was lathered and rinsed and dried with only the small diversion of the comments about my sexual prowess to spice up the occasion. "I wish you were fifty years younger, imagine what it would be like making love to you with a twenty year old body and fifty years of sexual experience to call on, a girl could swoon just thinking about it." "I just wish I was fifty years younger, fuck the experience, the best part of sex is the gaining of experience. I bet that you could teach me a thing or two, even at your tender age." When I was back in bed the teasing and sexual innuendoes really flew around. I had a private room this time and we often found ourselves alone with each other. "I remember," "Here we go again with the remembering." "I remember the first time I was in hospital, I had just had my leg smashed into a million pieces and after the Doctors had solved that particular jigsaw puzzle, I spent several months being looked after by a Nurse not unlike you. She was cheeky too, Always having a go at me about my sexual prowess, or lack of it, until one night she came into my bed and virtually raped me." "Yeah right, all of you guys are the same, you have this fantasy about some gorgeous Nurse coming in to your bed and making mad passionate love to you. It's always the best sex that you guys have ever had." "Have you ever thought that occasionally, just occasionally these stories just might be true?" "Nah! We Nurses are a little more discriminating than that. If we're going to have it off with a patient, he'll be rich, handsome, extremely handsome, and single, he'd have to be single, not some wizened up old fart like you, with a wife and three kids and I don't know how many grandkids. You probably haven't had sex for ages because you can't get it up, so you fantasize." "For starters, I am no longer married, my wife died some years ago. I have one son who is living overseas with his lovely wife and three adorable kids that I have seen just once. You are right, I haven't had sex for a while because since my wife died I haven't felt the urge to go looking for it, but if I had the opportunity I'd still manage to get it up." "I'm sorry if I upset you, I wasn't aware that you'd lost your wife. I just thought that the woman who comes in to see you was your wife." "She's my Sister-in-Law and I can't stand the bitch. I've never really liked her and since my wife died she has thrown herself at me shamelessly. She's my wife's sister, but there the similarity ends. It'll be a cold day in hell before I ever succumb to that particular woman." "You are an angry old fart aren't you? We're going to have to change that, but don't even think that I'm going to jump your bones in the middle of the night. You'd probably have a heart attack and die in the middle of it and I'd be in the shit big time." "I might have known that you'd be thinking about yourself. Here I am dying in this mausoleum of a hospital, with my only company a mean heartless bitch of a nurse who can only think of her career." I said this with a smile on my face and this Jenny realised that I was pulling her leg. "You are probably right, I couldn't care less about the patients under my care, I'm only in this for the magnificent salary that I'm paid and the chance to meet some handsome Doctor who'll marry me and let me live a life of luxurious indolence in a mansion somewhere." "Hey, don't get so snippy. You are a very good nurse, and I'm not just saying that to appease you, I really believe it. If you find my comments somehow offensive we'll stop right here and our future relationship will be strictly one that is expected from a patient and nurse, deal?" "Nah! If you think that your feeble insults upset me in any way, you've sadly misjudged the thickness of my hide. Water off a duck's back to me. I'd be bored out of my tree if we didn't have this rapport. I love it!" As it was moving into summer, Jenny began to take me, in a wheelchair, out into the courtyard garden so that I could enjoy the sun, the warmth of it on any of my exposed skin, which wasn't much although she did hike my gown up over my knees, the smell of the flowers, the sounds of the birds and the babbling stream running over the rocks into the artificial pond on which ducks swam. Very idyllic it was, made even more so by the company of my nurse. We talked a lot about our lives. She told me that her parents had wanted her to get into the Legal profession like her father, but she had no heart for the Law. They made several other suggestions, none of which she had a heart for, eventually bowing to her wishes and allowing her to pursue a Nursing career. She couldn't work out their reluctance. I told her of my life after the almost loss of my leg, of how I had to hobble around on crutches for some time and the feeling of frustration at not being able to do the things that I'd been able to do before the accident. The driver of the car was found guilty of negligence and I received some compensation, not enough to live comfortably on, but enough to purchase a business that allowed me to indulge in one of my other loves, music. I owned a record store, and this was where I met my future wife. Mary was a nice enough girl, she was pretty, she was kind, and she sort of infiltrated herself into my life. She knew a lot about classical music, she was studying Music Performance at the time, and she was in my store when someone came in and asked about a classical recording that I hadn't heard so was unfamiliar with. Mary walked over to the bins in which the albums sat and extracted the Album, "Is this what you're looking for?" "Yes, that's it." The customer held it, and turning it over began to read the cover notes. "Would you like to hear it?" "Yes, that would be nice." Mary took the disc from its sleeve, wiped it with a static cloth before placing it on the turntable. Soon the store was awash with the beautiful sounds of a Mozart Symphony. The sound wafted out into the mall where it beat down the muzak and attracted a small crowd of people who, following the sound like so many Hamelin rats, entered my store and began to buy. Two major things happened as a result of that. The first was that I began to play music all the time in my store, and my sales sky-rocketed, and secondly, Mary began to work part-time in the store, fitting her hours into breaks in her studies. We began going together and eventually, inevitably, married and lived happily until her death. I had known, in the Biblical sense, only two women in my entire life. As it inevitably would, this Jenny was transferred to another part of the hospital and her replacement was all efficiency and no sense of humour. In one day she took from me any pleasure to be found in this place. My recovery suffered, I had lost some of my will to get better and the doctors were a little concerned. All that I wanted to do was to get out of that place, whether I was well enough or not. But the bastards wouldn't let me go until they were satisfied that I was well enough, so a further three months of stultifying boredom followed before I was allowed home with a carer. Life took on some sort of normalcy, I would get out of bed and limp to the kitchen to a magnificent (not) repast of cereal, usually a plain muesli with no fruit, dry toast and coffee (weak, instant, yuck). This was followed by me sitting at the dining room table reading the daily newspaper while she, the carer, tidied up, a cleaning lady came in once a week to take care of the heavy stuff. The carer would help me shower, no funny business there, and then change the dressing on my leg before she sat down to watch daytime TV trash either side of lunch that was almost as exciting as breakfast. I, not wanting my brain to atrophy watching this garbage, would take myself to my study where I would read a book while listening to some classical music. In the afternoon I would take a walk around the garden and, by using specially designed long handled implements, potter. A little cultivating here, a little pruning there, a bit of compost from my compost bin, some worm castings, to feed the plants and keep them happy. I had espaliered fruit trees that provided me with fresh fruit in season, a raised vegetable plot that provided fresh produce for the dinner table. All of this was part of my therapy, designed to keep me active and occupied. I had been home for about three months when there was a knock on the front door. My carer answered it and walked into my study leading an excited Jenny. She rushed into my arms and gave me the biggest kiss. She was in tears, but they were tears of joy. "It's so good to see you again! I was devastated when I was transferred, apparently someone felt that you and I were getting too familiar. Anyway, it has taken me some time to find you and then get the courage to come and see you. How are you?" "I'm fine, even better than fine, now. Sit down and tell me the latest, what are you doing, have you graduated? I want to hear it all." "I'm going to have to be quick, I have someone waiting in the car." She saw my joy drain from my face. "Hey, it's not a boyfriend, or a husband, don't worry. Yes I've graduated, yes I'm still Nursing and enjoying it, although nowhere near as much as when I was nursing you, you made it so enjoyable, I didn't have that after I was moved. I don't have any prospects on the romance front at this time, although I haven't given up all hope, yet. But life's pretty cool right now. How are you getting on?" I got to me feet and closed my study door. "I don't know how much more of this I can stand. I'm not allowed to leave home without the prison guard coming along, I'd really like to be able to go to the mall and wander around looking at the shops, getting a cup of decent coffee and maybe even seeing a movie, but no, I have to drag her around with me. I do have my music and my garden to keep some sort of sanity happening." Memories "Hey, I have an idea, if she would let us, would you like me to take you to the mall, we can do whatever you want to do, would you like that?" The look on my face was answer enough for her, She opened the door and disappeared towards the living room where the other 'she' was engrossed in the daily dramas of some fictional 'normal' family. "Come on, get your best gear on, we are going out to party!" Jenny rushed back in and dragged me to my bedroom where she began rummaging through my closet and throwing clothes onto the bed for me to wear. All of five minutes later we said good-bye to an unhearing and uncaring carer and walked towards Jenny's car. I noticed a grey haired head sitting in the passenger seat, who could this be? "Tom, this is my grandmother, her name is Jenny too. Grandma, this is the patient that I've been telling you about." The woman got out of the car and stood facing me. "Hi Tommy, how are you today?" "Jenny? Is that really you?" "Yes, it's me." Nothing more was said for some time as she came into my arms and I held her to me, we kissed, we looked at each other and our lifetimes flashed before our eyes, memories flared, memories of the time we had together so long ago, so vivid in our minds that they could have been yesterday, memories of the intervening years fading to black as the old memories too control. She was different from the girl that I remembered but at the same time she was the same. Her body was exactly as it should be at her age, her tits were still full and even with the help of a bra, they still hung a little lower than I remember. Her face had lines, as you'd expect, but they were not worry lines, they pointed the way to those eyes that were still as young and mischievous as they were when she was a student nurse. "I've heard so much about you from your grand-daughter." "My what?" "Your grand-daughter. You do remember the night that we made love in your bed, just before I was transferred to another ward? Well I fell pregnant to you that night." "But you got married." "Yes I did. I was engaged to be married when I knew you, and the wedding was set for just after I graduated. I went ahead with it, but it didn't last long. My husband mightn't have been the brightest bulb in the box but he could add and subtract. He worked out that my daughter, Jenny's mother, couldn't have been his, so he divorced me." "Why didn't you tell me?" "I had to make a new start, away from there. My parents arranged for me to move to the country with my Aunt and Uncle where I could help them and bring up my daughter. As soon as she was old enough for high school I moved back into the city. By then you were married with a family of your own. I would have been a distraction that you didn't need." "This explains a lot. All of the time that I was in Hospital being nursed by Jenny 2, there was something familiar about her, and it wasn't just the looks and the way we interacted. When you were nursing me, you used to lean over me and tease me with your tits, it made me so horny it hurt, and you loved it. Well, Jenny 2 would do the same thing to me, and let me tell you, it made me feel so young and alive again. It must be something in the genes, this nursing thing, you both have it." "That explains it!" "Explains what?" Jenny 1 asked. "Why Mum and Dad were so against me going into nursing. They obviously knew the story of how you, just before you got married, made love to a patient and bore his child. They would have been aware of the shame that you brought on your family back then. They weren't happy about history repeating itself, given that you and I have similar personalities and appearance." "What they didn't tell you was that the reason Tommy and I made love that night was that I was in love with him, and I was sure that he was in love with me. I had been told that I was to be transferred the next day, so I had to see him before I left. I wore my uniform so that if anyone saw me they would think that I was on duty. It was my last chance, and I had to do it before I had to leave him for good. Things were different in those days, unwed mothers were frowned upon, and there was pressure from my parents and his for us to get married as soon as I graduated. Back in those days I had to give up work when I got married, so this was to be the end of my life as I knew it. Nowadays it is different, if you were to fall in love with a patient and he returns that love, I say go for it, but don't do what I did, and that is to forget about taking precautions. Freud would have said that I wanted to fall pregnant, wanted to have Tommy's child." Jenny 2 drove, Jenny 1 and I sat in the back of the car chatting away like a couple of school kid lovers, holding hands and whispering stupid things to each other. We walked slowly, I couldn't go any faster, through the mall until Jenny 1 suggested we get a wheelchair from the Centre Admin desk so that Jenny 2 could wheel me while Jenny I walked beside me holding my hand. We laughed at anything and everything, especially the stares from other shoppers, we had good coffee and decadent cakes at a coffee lounge and sat through a decidedly non-elderly movie. I was young again, maybe not in body, but certainly in spirit. It was the best day of my life until then, and it only got better. I got to meet Jenny 1's daughter and her husband, that's Jenny 2's parents, and a brother, Jenny 2's that is, and we became instant friends. I had a new family, I had life given back to me. The carer went at around the same time as the two Jennies moved into my home, our home. My son and his family are on their way home as we speak, after all I have to have someone to stand by me at my wedding. It'll be great, Jenny 2 is going to be the bridesmaid and will look after the house while we are on our honeymoon. Much as we would have welcomed her company, we don't want her close by as we attempt to relive that night so very, very, long ago. Memories Note: This is a story about adult sexual activity intended for adults. Everyone in this story is over eighteen. While the events in this story are based on true experiences some names have been changed and times have been compressed for this format. The events took place prior to the need for safe sex due to current epidemic of STDs. * Recently I was in a mood to down size and organize some of my "stuff". A large section in one of my bookcases held all my high school and college annuals, which I had not touched in more than thirty years. Why do we keep such stuff? Hell, why do we even buy them in the first place? As I thought about it I reached over and pulled out the one from my senior year in college. As I flipped through the pages it opened to the freshman class section where a napkin from Tony's Pizza rested. The napkin held a lipstick print and the message; "I'll miss you! Susan". It had been placed there in late May of 1967, more than 40 years ago, our last time together. My finger and eyes searched the small pictures looking for her. I could not remember her last name but I did remember the small mole on her right thigh and the first time I kissed it. It was late on Friday afternoon by the time I left class and cut across the campus of the small teacher's college in the mountains of western North Carolina. A cold October wind was stirring up the leaves as students hurried to the cafeteria. I was surprised to see Susan come out of her dorm and head toward me on her way to the cafeteria. We said, "Hello" and I expressed my surprise at seeing her. Susan was my roommate's girlfriend and I had assumed that she had gone away with him for the weekend. She informed me, with obvious irritation in her voice, "I'm not allowed to go with him when he goes home to see his mother." She was angry about the issue and stated that she had to stay on campus the entire weekend without a car. I told her, "I'm going to stop at Tony's to pick up a pizza then head home. Why don't you join me and we won't have to eat alone?" She hesitated for a moment and I was sure she was going to turn down the offer but then she smiled and took my arm; off we headed to Tony's. We picked up the pizza and headed out of town. For almost two years I rented a nice cabin on the side a mountain about five miles from campus. I could not afford it on my work-study and GI Bill income alone so I rented one of the bedrooms out to a roommate. Nelson, Susan's boyfriend, moved-in in September but it only took a short time to see that we were really the "odd couple". We got along the best we could by staying busy and out of each other's way. He brought Susan by from time to time to study and for some reason on Wednesday nights for a quickie. I teasingly referred to this short session of moaning and headboard banging as Wednesday night prayer meeting and Nelson would walk away mumbling his disapproval. Susan vented her anger on the way home and I just listened and let her vent. Once home I lit a fire in the fireplace and put on some music while Susan put a salad together and set the table. I noticed that she did not set our plates on opposite sides or ends of the table but side by side. We drank several glasses of wine with our dinner; Susan relaxed and our conversation moved to my finding out more about her. She was a tall, pretty girl with long, straight, black hair and bangs-sort of an early Cher style. Her style of dress reflected her catholic girl's school background with saddle oxfords, knee socks, a short, pleated, plaid skirt and a white, oxford cloth blouse-almost a uniform. She had lived a rather protected life before starting her freshman year. Nelson had been her first and only boyfriend, her first and only lover. At home she had only been allowed to date at school functions and only with supervision. As we drank more wine the conversation became more personal and Susan would blush at some of my more intimate questions but answer them anyway. Her only experience before Nelson took her virginity a few months earlier was necking and petting with some of her high school girlfriends, "practicing" what to do with guys on a date. She became concerned that since she enjoyed the "practicing", she would become a lesbian. She found that she enjoyed the male contact with Nelson but also found that she was left unsatisfied by his quick "wham bam thank you mam" approach to sex. She wondered if that was just normal or that Nelson was just inexperienced; he pretty much did "his thing" and was through. Her roommates told her about all sorts of sexual things she wanted to know about but he was not even interested in discussing them. She mentioned reading about oral sex in Cosmopolitan magazine and he became very upset with her. Susan asked, "Why do you tease us about the Wednesday night "thing"? I tried to reassure her with, "Susan I was not teasing you but rather Nelson. I just thought he should be more considerate of your needs; I doubt that you were getting the most out of that time." She agreed with me and thanked me for considering her feelings. We cleaned off the table then took turns using the bathroom so we could move into the living room close to the fire. As I came out Susan was standing against one of the kitchen counters sipping her wine. I walked up close to her putting my hands on her hips and leaning in to kiss her lightly. We looked into each other's eyes and exchanged smiles. I moved closer to continue our kissing then moved my hips forward and pressed my pelvis against hers'. To my delight she did not withdraw but rather pressed back against me. We stood there for a moment almost grinding our pelvises together as we kissed and looked into each other's eyes knowing where we were headed. "That was nice." She stated. I dropped to my knees and moved my hands from her hips to the backs of her bare legs. I looked up at her, "Lift up your skirt." After a brief hesitation she reached down to the bottom of her skirt and lifted it to her waist. Like any proper catholic schoolgirl she was wearing full-cut, white, cotton panties; I pressed my face against her and inhaled deeply as I took in the beautiful sight. There was a hint of the dark triangle of her pubic hair showing through the front of her white cotton panties. I moved my hands up the backs of her smooth thighs to the cheeks of her firm, well rounded bottom. As I moved my face closer to kiss her I noticed a small mole high on her right thigh and targeted it for my first kiss. Kissing my way along her panty line toward her crotch I moved my nose across the soft cotton space between her thighs lingering long enough to inhale her aroma. From her musk scent I could tell that she had had a very busy day and that my invitation for pizza had caught her unprepared for our evening together. It was a rich aroma which enflamed my passion and increased the rigidity of my already erect cock. I moved my hands to the waistband of her panties and slowly pulled them over her hips, kissing my way down the line of soft dark hair trailing between her navel and the thick dark triangle which hid all her feminine secrets. The crotch of her panties held firm in the hollow between her thighs as the waist band moved easily down her thighs before the crotch almost popped loose and quickly caught up at her knees. As she lifted each foot to step out of her panties I leaned forward and kissed her downy soft pubic mound and again inhaled her scent. As I stood up with her panties in my hand I raised them to my nose and inhaled them deeply so she would know that there was no reason for her to be concerned about her scent. I stood up and we kissed passionately for several minutes; my hands caressed the bare cheeks of her sweet ass. I guided her to the table and stood between her knees as my hands unfastened the buttons of her blouse exposing her small, perky breasts for my lips to kiss. Her nipples quickly responded to the licks of my tongue and the suckling of my lips and hardened from the stimuli. Her breathing increased as I guided her backwards so she could lie on the table. I pulled a chair up close to sit between her legs and lifted each foot to place it on one of my shoulders. She was now completely open to me; there were no secrets to hide. The thick, dark, pubic hair covering her vulva from thigh to thigh parted just enough to display her protruding butterfly shaped, pink labia. I had to resist the urge to just bury my entire face in her, to taste her juices, and inhale her scent. I kissed the outer edges from the top to the bottom before capturing the butterfly's wings in my lips and gently tugging at them. I spread the wings with my fingers to uncover the most beautiful rainbow of pastel colors glistening with her juices. I could no longer resist a taste and moved my lips and tongue closer. I was almost intoxicated by the sight, the taste and the aroma of this young woman. I kissed, licked, sucked, and probed every part of her undercarriage. She let out a yelp as my finger slipped deep into her tightly puckered ass and began to move within her bowels. She lifted her ass off the table as she sought to grind her cunt onto my face. Within minutes Susan had had several screaming orgasms and my face and hands were covered with her juices. Every breath I took I inhaled her scent. We stood up and started kissing again. "Do you like the taste of your pussy on my lips? She did not answer but resumed her passionate kissing, her tongue lapped at my face and lips. I guided her hands to the front of my jeans, "Open them up and see what you can find." She smiled as she wrapped her hand around my engorged cock and freed it from the confines of my jeans; it was the first erect cock she had held in her hand. I sat down in the chair and pulled her to me; she straddled my legs and guided me into her cunt. She played for several minutes sliding up and down on just the bulbous head then she slid all the way down completely impaling herself. As she moved up and down on my cock her small perky breasts moved over my mouth then she settled down completely on my cock and began slowly grinding her cunt against my cock and pelvis. My lips captured her nipples and suckled each one in turn. She closed her eyes and began to moan as she increased the motion of her hips. She was well on her way to her first orgasm while impaled on a cock. I quickly caught up to her, "Cum with me baby! Let go and cum with me!" I grunted. Susan did let go. Her nails dug into my back, her teeth bit my ear as a scream escaped her mouth and her cunt squeezed my cock. "Oh God, I thought I would die!" she gasped trying to catch her breath. I moved her back onto the table where I lapped up the cream pie which oozed from between her butterfly lips and ran down through her thick pubic hair to her tightly puckered ass. I shared some of the white creamy liquid on my tongue during a kiss; Susan sucked my tongue into her mouth. I took her panties off the counter and patted her wet cunt dry then wiped my slimy cock then tossed them back on the counter. We poured another glass of wine and moved to the living room where we removed all our remaining clothes. She may have looked prim, proper, and innocent in her Catholic girls' school clothes but naked she was a sensuous and sexy woman. Susan spent lots of time examining and playing with my half hard cock; she was like a kid with a new toy. She covered my shaft with licks and kisses before she worked up the courage to put the engorged, purplish head in her mouth. She certainly had more to learn but she had an excellent start. "That was my first time without using a rubber." She told me. She added that she was going to surprise Nelson that very weekend by telling him that she had seen a doctor and he had put her on the pill. Then she added, "He will never the chance now." "When did you decide that?" I asked. "When you kissed me down there." pointing toward her pussy. I chuckled then asked, "You mean when I kissed your pussy?" She blushed somewhat then stammered, "Yes, when you kissed my pussy." I had teased her about her cute euphemisms to get her to change them to something more adult and vulgar. It took a while to get "fuck" and "pussy" to roll off her tongue but as we got back to our adult activities she was able to look at me and say, "Fuck me". Susan found out that her favorite position was "doggie style" with her ass high in the air with her head on the floor but she was uncertain if she prefered taking my cock in her pretty ass of her sweet juicy cunt. We would have to practice more for her to make that decision. It was almost 2:00 AM before Susan finally admitted that she was tired and that we should go to bed. I thought she would never quit. We had tried just about every position that I could think of and the rest times between them got shorter. The last time I came I was sure my nuts were going to come right through the head of my cock. When I offered my toothbrush to Susan to use, she quickly objected, "I can't use someone else's toothbrush." I laughed and reminded her, "I have licked you from ass to pussy and you have had my slimy, semen covered cock in your mouth. I think it will be okay to use my toothbrush this once; tomorrow I will buy you a new one." We brushed our teeth and splashed water on a few parts and went to bed. I think I was asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. It was after nine o'clock the next morning before we even moved. Susan sat up in the bed, "I'm starved! Wow, my bottom certainly is tender, I wonder why." I couldn't help but laugh at her comment; we had tried to fuck each other to death. With the condition of Susan's clothes scattered over the floor I put her in a pair of my bib overalls and flannel shirt and off we went to a café in town; she decided to forgo her semen stained panties. We got a number of stares from people but were quickly seated by our waitress who introduced herself as, Lynn. She was a pretty young woman about our age, early twenties, and was very friendly as she took our order. As she walked away to get us coffee we could clearly see her panty lines under her uniform dress. I was trying not to look but one side was clearly riding in the crack of her very pretty ass. I looked at Susan as she commented that it would drive her crazy. We both laughed as I reminded her that she did not even have any panties on. When our food came we ate like we were starved half to death. We did take time to talk about our previous evening and how much we were surprised by our getting together and how much we enjoyed it. Patting her stomach, Susan made the comment, "Fucking makes a girl hungry." She had no more gotten it out of her mouth when we heard a reply from behind us, "I wouldn't know about that." Susan turned three shades of red as Lynn walked up to the table laughing. She refilled our coffee cups and apologized for ease dropping. We chatted briefly as she wrote out our check; she told us that she was a widow raising a child and she didn't get out much. I told her that I was making lasagna for dinner and that she should get a babysitter and join us. Susan also encouraged her and she agreed to call and ask her mother to keep her daughter. We arranged to pick her up at work when her shift ended at three o'clock. It was such a nice autumn day that we decided we would hike the mountain behind the house. We packed our lunch into a daypack and headed off up the mountain. By noon we were hot, tired, and hungry. We stopped at a small stream and soaked our feet and cooled off a bit then moved over to a sunny south facing meadow where the north wind was blocked by the mountain. We looked at each other and almost immediately knew what the other was thinking. Within a few minutes we were enjoying our lunch completely naked in the warm sun. We said we would just rest a short while then head back down to the house so we could shower before picking up Lynn. The plan did not work. Seeing Susan stretched out nude in the sun caused a swelling and a pulsing in my cock. That got her attention and one thing led to another. We were soon fraying about in the throes of passion on a high mountain meadow. By the time it was over there was no time to either rest or get a shower before rushing off to pick up Lynn. We hopped into the Scout and headed off smelling of sweat and fresh fuck on top of yesterday's sweat and stale fuck. We pulled up to the café just as Lynn walked out. She climbed into the front seat with us; we immediately began apologizing for our condition. She helped to put us at ease by commenting on the greasy café smells she could add to the mix. Once back at the house Susan poured the wine and I got started on the lasagna. I watched the girls on the sofa as I cooked and listened to them talk as if they had been lifelong friends. When I put the lasagna into the oven I joined them by sitting on the coffee table in front of the sofa. Lynn was commenting on how tired her feet and legs would get working on her feet all day. I reached down and lifted one of her feet to my lap where I untied her shoe and slipped it off along with her sock. She looked surprised and almost shocked as I started to massage the bottom of her foot with my thumbs. She relaxed, let out a sigh, and almost went limp. She smiled at Susan and told her that that's the way to a girl's heart. After repeating the massage on the other foot I lifted her foot up and sucked her big toe deep into my warm wet mouth. This time she did go limp and moaned a long, low sound. Her legs were open and her pink panties clearly visible; she made no effort to hide from my prying eyes. I smiled and winked at Susan. I checked the stove just to make sure dinner was cooking then moved to the bathroom to draw bath water. My tub was a large, old style, claw-foot tub with plenty of room for at least two. I went ahead and shaved while the tub was filling. I added some bath beads to the warm water then called the girls to come get their baths. Once they came into the bathroom I just starting unbuttoning Lynn's dress. I let it fall to the floor then reached around her and unfastened her bra. She had a beautiful body and showed no sign of having had a child except that her nipples did show signs that she had breast-fed. She was shorter than Susan and had a larger chest, maybe a C cup. By the time I slipped Lynn's panties off, Susan had dropped her bib overalls and shirt in the floor and was also ready to get into the tub of warm sudsy water. Lyn took the front and Susan took the back end of the big tub. They both slid neck deep into the bubbles but I was unable to see where their legs went. I collected their clothes and put them into the ringer washer on the back porch. From time to time I stopped by to "check" on them while I finished in the kitchen. I stood at the door and watched these two beautiful women as they washed and talked. After their bath they took turns drying each other and I moved in, undressed and got into the tub for my bath. Yes, in the same water. With the small water heater I had it would have taken hours to heat enough for me. Besides, what could have washed off their bodies that I wouldn't want on mine? As I bathed they stood nude at the counter drying and brushing each other's hair and talking a-mile-a-minute. Susan got them each one of my army night shirts to put on for dinner; the sun was going down and there was already a chill in the air. Dinner was a very erotic event with playful touching, above and under the table, flashing, and very naughty conversation. Everyone had to tell a secret that no one else knew about. Susan told about getting her pussy eaten for the first time the previous night. Lynn told about giving her first blow job and Susan quickly asked her to teach her how to give a blow job. Memories I told about my first sexual experience with my best friend's step-mother. The story continued after dinner and as we moved into the living room. Susan had been the focus of all activities the previous night but that night she made sure Lynn was the focus of everything. Susan played director and saw that I met Lynn's every need; she sat beside us as Lynn rode my cock. She kissed and licked my face after I ate Lynn's pussy. She opened the cheeks of Lynn's sweet, firm ass and rubbed her back as I entered her from behind; she watched intently as my cock would withdraw glistening with Lynn's juices. Several times Susan would hold my cock in one hand and with her other hand she would spread the lips of Lynn's cunt and guide me into them. Susan did get Lynn to teach her some tips on how to give a blowjob. Thank goodness, Lynn, after a long day at work and a few glasses of wine did not last as long as Susan had the night before and we got to bed about mid-night. We got up early Sunday morning to get Lynn's clothes ironed and get her home to spend the day with her family. Susan and I stayed at the house doing some studying and resting until mid afternoon when I took her back to the dorm. Before leaving, however, she had one request. I hugged and kissed her and asked what she would like for me to do. She looked into my eyes and asked, "Will you fuck me in Nelson's bed before you take me back?" Of course, I could not refuse her. But we did remake the bed before we left. That autumn weekend began a wonderful relationship that lasted until I graduated seven months later. Nelson left school at the end of the semester and Susan found out it was cheaper to help me with groceries and rent than to pay for room and board at the school. I put Susan's lip stick napkin from Tony's Pizza back in my senior yearbook, closed it, and slid it back onto the shelf. That must be why we buy the damn things in the first place. Memories Many thanks to LSEiland for all the hard work in editing and improving this story from a previous version. * "Your sister is crazy," said Wendell as he hung up the phone. "What did she say this time?" said Jane. "It wasn't her," said Wendell. "It was Cal with one of his wild stories, but when he told me Joan was going along, I couldn't believe it." "I could see your eyes getting huge," said Jane. "Cal told me he and Joan wanted to film a video of themselves making love, and they wanted me to be the cameraman," Wendell said. "I told him there was no way you would agree. Wait a minute? Why are you looking at me like that? Do you know all about this already?" "Yes, Joan told me about their plans a few weeks ago," said Jane, "And I thought she was crazy, just like you, but she's been working on me -- and I finally gave in." "Hold it!" said Wendell. "You told me before we got married that you didn't care about all the crazy and disgusting things I did before the ceremony, even including the bachelor party, but once the ring was on my finger, you wouldn't share me with anyone else. "As hot as your sister is, I'm not even that excited about filming her and Cal. They think they're the greatest sexual athletes on the planet, but the stuff he's told me is pretty tame compared to what we've done." "Well, we don't need to prove anything, do we?" said Jane. "I don't tell Joan much about our love life, but I think she realizes that we're way ahead of them, and she's jealous." "I thought you and Joan tell each other everything," said Wendell. "Well, she tells me almost everything," said Jane. "And I tell her --well never mind. In this case, I decided it would be safer for her if you were the cameraman, rather than some professional video person. I'm sure most of them are legit, but I've heard some stories about private videos ending up on the Internet. "While you're there, I'll be sitting here at home thinking about your threesome. When you get home I want to hear all the details, unless you get me so hot that I have to interrupt you so that we can make some memories of our own." "Did you say threesome?" said Wendell. "Is there more to this than Cal told me?" "I didn't say that right," said Jane. "I just meant the three of you. I'm still holding you to your vows. You can watch them, but don't you dare so much as touch anything with any part of your body unless you want that part cut off." Wendell laughed. "That's more like it," he said. "For a second, I was worried whether you were feeling well. So you really want me to do this on Saturday morning?" "Yes, and then I want you to come straight home," said Jane. Joan and Cal lived just a half-mile from them, but Wendell took his time getting there because his mind was racing and he needed to calm down. He was surprised that this was actually arousing him, but he figured it was because the whole scene would be the most bizarre thing he had ever been involved in. When he walked in, he could tell his sister and her husband were even more excited than he was. They were dressed in sweats as they eagerly explained the set-up in their master bedroom. There were so many bright lights shining from stands around the room that Wendell blinked until he got used to them. There were also four video cameras set up on tripods around the bed, some high, some low. Cal handed him a fifth camera and said he was to move around the bed getting close-ups of the action, especially their faces and genitals, and he explained how the other cameras were synchronized and would record the action from a variety of angles at the same time as the handheld camera. He and Joan would edit all the footage. When everything was explained, there was an awkward moment where Joan and Cal looked at each other, and at Wendell. He figured they were thinking the same thing he was: Was this really going to happen? But then Joan started taking off her sweats. At first, she turned her back to Wendell as she began pulling her top off. But then she stopped herself and pulled the top back down and turned to face him. She was smiling a big lascivious smile at him as she began a slow dancing motion and turned her clothes removal into a striptease. Cal was already naked and sitting in the middle of the bed watching her, but Wendell barely saw him. Was it his imagination or was Joan putting on a show for him, rather than Cal? He raised his camera, but she motioned him to put it down. No, the striptease was for him, not the camera. She turned a few times in her dance and faced Cal, but her focus was on Wendell. And when he could pull his eyes away from her voluptuous body for a moment and looked at her face, he could see that her eyes were cutting into him like a laser. He felt himself getting red in the face. He was so aroused that he had to adjust his shorts. When she was totally naked, she stood facing him, her legs spread, hands at her hips. Her eyes were telling him to come and get it, but then she laughed and turned around and joined Cal in bed. After that, she never looked at him again. He tried to concentrate on doing his job, but his job was to get close-ups of two bodies having sweaty, energetic sex in unusual positions -- and he had to do a lot more shifting inside his shorts. The action was almost nonstop and he couldn't tell which of them was the most aroused and enthusiastic. She came with the same short breaths and little sighs that Jane did, and she did it often, exciting him even more. Finally, they seemed to be exhausted. Joan had been riding Cal and had just come again. She had collapsed down on top of him, and Wendell was shooting some come trickling out of her as Cal became soft. He heard Cal's voice saying something. "Only one more thing," Cal said. "We're going to do a DP." "What?" said Wendell. "I can see you're hard as a rock," said Cal. "It's always been a fantasy of mine to do a DP with Joan, and I know this is the only chance I'll ever get." "First of all, I can't believe Joan wants me to do her ass," said Wendell, "and even if she did, Jane would kill me. What am I talking about? I know it would hurt Joan, and I'm not going to hurt her, even if she wants me to." Joan raised her head from Cal's chest. "What are you guys talking about?" she said. "Cal wants me to do you in the ass while he does you on the other side," said Wendell. "It's called a double penetration, and they do it on porn videos. You must have seen it." "No, I never have," said Joan, "and there's no way I'm going to do that. I only did anal with Cal once, and I couldn't walk right for a week, so he knows that's out of bounds. I'll admit I've fantasized being with you, Wendell. Yes, Jane knows, and she knows I'd never do it. This thing is over, Cal. Let me up." She tried to remove Cal's arms, which were wrapped around her back. "Not on your life," said Cal. "You're going to tell Wendell it's okay to screw you in the ass. I'm already hard again thinking about it, and I know you can feel it." "You're crazy," said Joan. "I will never tell Wendell that, and even if you hold me, I know he won't do it." "You're right," said Wendell. "No matter what you say, Cal, I'm not doing this." "I'm not going to persuade you," said Cal. "Joan is, because unless she does, I'm going to tell you a couple of things about your wife." "What?" said Joan. "You bastard!" She managed to get her arm free enough to slap Cal hard on the face before he grabbed her hand. She began sobbing hysterically. "What are you talking about?" said Wendell. "Ask Joan," said Cal, calmly. He began moving in and out of Joan with his penis. He didn't say another word. Joan stopped crying and lifted up her face and looked at Cal, who looked back at her with a stone face. "You really would do that, you asshole," she said. "Just for your stupid fantasy, you would hurt my sister and Wendell? And you don't mind that your wife would experience horrible pain? After four years of marriage, I don't know you at all." "Nothing you can say will change my mind," said Cal. "I've thought of this a long time. I don't know how big Wendell is, but I figure you will be fine in a week or so. "I know you're going to make me pay for this. And I'm prepared to make this up to you in many ways. It's just that this is one of those once-in-a-lifetime things, and I know I'll always regret not giving it a shot. "As for what I'll tell Wendell, I don't think it will hurt him as much as you and Jane do. He'll get over it. It's not going to ruin anybody's life. But I promise I won't say a thing if I get my DP." "There's nothing Joan can say to me that's going to make me do this," said Wendell, "so you may as well tell me your secret." "No!" Joan cried out. "Don't say anything, Cal, or so help me, I'll scratch your eyes out." She began sobbing again. Cal continued to slowly move in and out of her from below as she cried. Wendell couldn't believe his eyes and ears. "You have to do it, Wendell," she said quietly after a few minutes. "I'll be able to handle it." "Not on your life, Joan," he said. "I'm not even that hard anymore. I'm not going to hurt you no matter what you say." She looked up at him. "Take your clothes off, Wendell," she said quietly. "You have to trust me that what you're going to do to me will hurt me less than what Cal is threatening. Whenever I've asked you for a favor, you've never hesitated. I know this is the biggest favor I'll ever ask, and I promise you that I'll never tell Jane. But you have to do it or I don't know what I'll do to myself." "How can you let her talk like this, Cal?" said Wendell. "I never realized you could be such a bastard." "Don't be stupid," said Cal. "Yes, I'm a bastard, but she's a drama queen. Doesn't Jane ever pull that stuff on you? She's not going to kill herself over what this. It means nothing in the long run." "Shut up!" screamed Joan. "If I'm going to do this for you, Cal, you better not say another word. Just enjoy your sick fantasy that I'm giving you. I'll be thinking of how you're going to pay for it." She turned to Wendell. "Please," she said. "Let's take this slowly, Wendell. First, just take off your clothes and come over here." "Before you do," said Cal, "place your camera on the stand just to your left and turn on the switch to start all the cameras. I've got everything all set up to shoot the DP." Wendell was trying to think of what to say. He was sure Cal was right. Joan wouldn't do anything foolish because she wasn't that kind of person. But she seemed awfully distraught, and what if she did hurt herself? Jane wouldn't blame him for not taking her ass, but that would always be there between them. He felt sure Jane wouldn't want him to take any chances with her sister's health -- or her life. He put the camera on the stand and aimed it where the three crotches would come together, and then he stood still for a moment. The room was quiet. He heard the sound of Cal's penis going in and out of Joan. It was a gurgly sound, because his member was moving through a lot of semen that Cal had deposited inside her. When he started taking off his clothes, he did it quickly. He wanted this over fast. He heard Joan gasp. "Oh my God," she said, "It's even thicker and longer than yours, you bastard. No, no Wendell, don't stop. It won't be that bad. Now come over here. Cal, you can loosen your death grip now. I'm not trying to get away, but I need to be able to move." When Wendell stood by the bed, she moved her body toward him as Cal continued to pump her. Before Wendell knew what was happening, she swallowed a large part of him and was sucking him like a vacuum. She was as good as Jane, he thought as he became hard in less than a minute. She lifted her head and said, "Okay, Wendell, you can do it now." "I'm not doing anything unless there's some lube," Wendell said, and even before he finished he saw Cal reach under the bed and pull out a squeeze tube. "When I put my finger inside with the lubricant, I want you to relax as much as you can, Joan," Wendell said. "Then I'll put a lot more in with two fingers to get your muscles back there to loosen up so it won't be as painful." But despite his suggestion, he saw her tense up the moment she felt his finger, and she stayed that way. When he inserted two digits, she screamed for a moment before she could control herself. He put the lube away and positioned himself. He went in slowly, but she gasped and squirmed and moaned and shrieked at every movement. A couple of times she stopped him so that she could calm down, but as soon as he started again, so did her sounds. When he was completely in, he felt Cal's hands touch his balls. "You did it," he said with glee in his voice. "Now get started. I'm going to try to hold off coming until you do." Wendell didn't move until he heard Joan sobbing and saying, "Do it, Wendell! Please. Please finish fast." Wendell started moving in and out of her slowly. He didn't feel excited, but her tight muscles clenching around him kept him aroused. He didn't feel like he could come. Joan couldn't stop crying, except when she was gasping. After a few minutes, she screamed at him, "Faster, Wendell. I don't think you are going to come going this slow. Every second you take is making my agonizing. The worst thing is my feeling of total humiliation. Cal has turned me into something that isn't even human. Please finish before I go out of my mind." Wendell began moving faster. He looked down at his penis going in and out of the small, tight hole in the middle of her beautiful rear. He pulled it out further as far as it would go without coming free and plunged it all the way back in. As he was doing this, he felt himself becoming aroused. He went faster and started to bump her rear. She was shrieking in cadence with his thrusts. Cal was matching his rhythm. He felt the urgency beginning, and a minute later he was blasting his semen into her bowels. He waited until he was completely soft before pulling out, and then he did it as slowly as he could. Joan still cried out a couple of times. He got up and went to the bathroom, washed up, and then got dressed and went home without saying another word. He didn't look at either of them. At home, Jane was boiling over with excitement. She didn't ask him anything but dragged him straight to bed. At first, he didn't respond, but she wouldn't be denied. They went at each other for over an hour before she stopped to catch her breath. "That was good," she said, "but I thought it would be even wilder. You seemed a little more subdued than I thought you'd be after watching Cal and Joan. Now let's eat something, and I want to hear all about it." Over lunch, he told her of every position Cal and Joan had demonstrated, and she stopped him frequently to ask details. When he finished, she looked at him. "There's something you're not telling me," she said, "and now I know why you weren't so enthusiastic when you came home. Something bad happened, and you're not telling me because you don't want to upset me. But I need to know. What did Cal do to Joan? No matter what it was, I will accept it because it was between the two of them. But you have to tell me." Wendell tried hard to hold back, but she wouldn't give up. Finally, he told her everything and watched her face go from curiosity to shock to anger. "I'm so sorry about what I did, Jane," he said. "I hope someday you can forgive me." "I'm not angry at you, Wendell," she said through clenched teeth. "I'm glad you did what Joan asked you to do, rather than take any chances. But I don't know if I can ever look at that bastard Cal again. Excuse me, but I have to call Joan right now." She was holding back her tears while comforting Joan on the phone. She wanted to go over there, but Joan told her not to. After she hung up, Wendell said, "What were those secrets that I wasn't supposed to hear. I thought we didn't keep secrets from each other." Jane looked at him in a daze. "Secrets?" she said. "Oh, yes, Joan was protecting me. Damn her. I wouldn't have cared if Cal had told you. Damn her!" "So what were they then?" Wendell said. "It's so stupid," she said, talking to herself. "Secrets! Horrible secrets! You know what one of them was? Remember that time I surprised you after I blew you and let you come in my mouth? It was a huge amount of semen because you had just come home from a trip. "Remember how upset you were when I forced my mouth over yours and pushed all of the come into you so that you were choking and swallowing and sneezing it out all at the same time. Then you ran to the bathroom and retched for 10 minutes. I just said that I wanted to try it one time, and I promised I'd never do it again." "How could I forget that?" he said. "It was horrible." "Well, what I didn't tell you was that Joan had told me about doing that. She said it was called giving the man a snowball, and that she had mentioned it to Cal, but he was deathly afraid of come, so he wouldn't do it. She said you wouldn't do it either. We had too much to drink, and I bet that I could get you to do it. She said I'd have to prove it, and so we agreed that she could hide a video camera in our bedroom. I turned it on before I began blowing you and positioned you so that the camera got a good shot of the snowball and your reaction. She wasn't supposed to, but she told Cal about it -- after he swore he'd never tell you. "I didn't tell you because I knew how angry you'd be, but mostly because I wanted to spare you the humiliation. I can see I was right." Wendell's face was white, and his words were terse and robotic. "She said secrets," he said. "There was more than one." "I'm not telling you the other one yet," she said. "That's enough anger and humiliation for one day. I'm suddenly exhausted, and all I want to do is go to bed and hold you." She wept in his arms a long time, occasionally saying, "Poor Joan," before falling asleep. He pulled free of her and got up, but she didn't wake up until almost dinnertime and went to bed early that night. For a week or two she was not herself, but then she snapped out of it. One day at dinner, she said, "Cal is going all out. He's taking Joan to an expensive resort, and you should see the ring he bought her. They've patched things up, but he doesn't know Joan like I do. She takes a long time to forget things, and until she does... she can be dangerous." "What do you think she'll do?" said Wendell. "I don't know," she said. "But you will," he said, "because she tells you everything." Six months had passed from the night of the DP, when Wendell got a phone call from an excited Cal. "We need you for another video session," he said. "I don't believe you," said Wendell. "It's all Joan's idea this time," said Wendell "If you think last time was wild, you ain't seen nothing yet. For the past three months, she's been researching the Internet and finding the most strange and exotic sex practices from all over the world. And then she's taught them to me, and we've been doing them. Some of them are crazy exciting, and some of them are just crazy, but now she wants to make a video of us doing them. "I wasn't so eager because it took a long time for her to forgive me for the DP, but she said that if I promised not to pull any more tricks, she'd do the video. Then she shocked me, and you know I'm not easy to shock." "What are you talking about?" said Wendell. "She told me she would toss my salad," said Cal. "She what?" said Wendell. "Toss my salad," said Cal. "You know... she would eat out my asshole. I almost fell over. I've seen porn videos of that, but even I would never have thought about asking her to stick her tongue in my asshole." "She's pulling something over on you," said Wendell. "She would never do that." Memories "Well, she promised," said Cal. "But even if she's lying, and she doesn't do it, the rest of the stuff will be amazing. I watch the other video all the time, but this one will make it seem tame. Wait until you see what we do?" "Somehow, I don't think Jane is going to let me do this again, even if I wanted to," said Wendell. "After she heard what you did, she wanted to go over and castrate you. Because of how you've treated Joan since then, she's feeling better about you, but this dredges up the whole nasty thing again." "But Jane already agreed," said Cal. "It's all set for Saturday morning." "But I haven't agreed yet," Wendell said. "I've got to go," said Cal. "Please talk to Jane." When he told Jane what Cal had said, she said, "Yes, I want you to do it. I talked to Joan about it, and she convinced me. She's crazy, but she's my sister." "What about that salad tossing thing?" he said. "Yes, when she told me, I almost barfed," said Jane. "But she said that she would absolutely do it. I've seen the other video, and I couldn't watch the end of it. I don't know if I want to see her face in Cal's ass. But --" "Yes," said Wendell, "I know -- but she's your sister." When Wendell arrived at Cal and Joan's Saturday morning, the setup was just like before with the lights and cameras. This time there was no hesitation. As soon as he said he was ready, they went to it and pulled out all the stops for almost 40 minutes. Wendell had never seen some of the strange contortions they got themselves into. Some of them were only bizarre, but some of them were exciting, and he found himself adjusting things inside his pants again, especially whenever Joan had an orgasm. This time she didn't ignore him, but stared at him with a lascivious expression every time she started coming. He tried not to show how much this aroused him. Cal and Joan were lying next to each other taking a break when Joan said, "I think we've just about covered everything, Cal. We're getting close to the salad course. Wow! As tired as you are, that got you to attention pretty fast. "Don't look so disgusted, Wendell. Did you know that before you came over, I gave Cal two deep enemas? That was the really disgusting part, but he was eager to have them as a condition of me tossing his salad. Now he's sparkling clean and fresh inside. So I won't be tasting anything gamey when my tongue is in there. "First, though... I want you on your back, Cal, in the Viennese Oyster position that I was in a little while ago. There was a reason why I had you practice it. You love how it opens me wide and makes me look like a contortionist. It's going to open you wide, too. "That's it. Put your legs up in the air and move them back. I know you're tired, but I'll help you. Let's do it slowly, so Wendell catches everything on camera. That's it. Get your feet back behind your head. Careful. We don't want to pull any muscles. But I know you've got the hang of it. "Now put your arms straight up in the air. That's it. Now bring your right arm down over your right leg and push your hand under your back. That locks your leg down so it stays put. Now do the same with your left arm. Down it goes over your leg, and your hand goes under you. "Wendell's camera is now capturing your ass sticking up into the air and spreading wide. I must say, it looks really obscene and disgusting, your open asshole. Now I'm going to get on the bed in this position." "What are you doing?" said Cal as she sat down on top of his thighs, which were pushed into his chest, doubling him up with his legs stretching out behind him. "There's one thing we need to do before I eat you out, Cal," said Joan. "I have to tell you where I came up with the idea. It was after what you did to me at the video session. I was so angry at you that I got into some weird places mentally -- even weirder than my normal weird. "I was looking for a way to get back at you that would humiliate and hurt you as much as you did me. For a while, I got all involved in cuckolding. I went to the sites where women talked about how they betrayed their husbands and the excitement when they told their husbands and watched their reactions of anger and humiliation. "From those sites, I found out where there were actual videos of cuckolding. They weren't as good as the true stories, because the husbands participating in their humiliation in front of the camera were probably getting off on it. But sometimes it looked realistic, and I wondered whether some of the wives might actually have forced their husbands to be on the videos. "The most degrading thing these husbands did came after they watched their wives have sex with another man. Some of the wives ordered them to eat the come out of their vaginas and even their anuses. A lot of the cuckolds did it enthusiastically, but I would swear that some of them were really reluctant. In a couple of cases, where they looked like they were going to throw up, the video ended abruptly. "As I watched those, I kept thinking about how I could cuckold you, Cal, and then force you to eat the come out of me. A lot of times, the guy in my fantasy was Wendell here, because if I ever cheated with anybody, it would be with him. Jane knows how much he turns me on, but she also knows I would never do that to her. "I thought about finding someone else to cuckold you and how I would do it, but finally I had to give up. I wasn't going to hire someone or seduce someone to have sex with me one time just to punish you. And then I'd have to tie you up or something to get you to participate. Too many things could go wrong. "One day I was still fantasizing about how I could do it, and the answer came to me. What if I were the cuckold? Instead of you watching me having sex with another man, I would watch you have sex with another man. And then I would eat the come out of your anus, just like the male cuckolds. I thought about it, and that's when I decided I would toss your salad. And I will, I promise. "But the salad's going to have some creamy white dressing, lots of it, because Jane promised me that she's been making excuses for the last five days and Wendell hasn't had any sex. And I remember from last time how much come he shoots." "Wait a minute," said Wendell. "I'm not having sex with a man, no matter what you and Jane planned." Cal started to struggle, but Joan immediately raised up from where she was sitting on the back of his thighs and came down hard on him, driving his thighs into his stomach and knocking he wind out of him. She did it quickly three more times, and Cal went limp. She raised her hand and whacked him hard on each of his buttocks. "Quiet down, Cal," she said. "You're not going anywhere." He cried out when she spanked him, but otherwise didn't move. He was gasping and barely conscious. "She can't make you do this, Cal," he said. His voice was barely above a whisper. "Don't listen to her. Pull her off of me." "I'm sorry, Joan," he said, "but he's right. It felt creepy enough last time, feeling his dick moving almost right next to mine as I was in your ass. I'm just not into the gay thing at all." "Don't worry," she said, "I've got it all figured out, Wendell. You'll do just fine." "No," said Cal. His voice was hysterical. "I'll tell him about Jane. I promise you I will, Joan." He moved his body slightly. As soon as he did, Jane raised up higher than before and came down really hard on him again. There was a whooshing sound, and he didn't try to move again. "I already know about one thing," said Wendell. "The snowball that she filmed for Joan? What are the other ones?" "There's only one other one," said Joan, "and Jane gave me permission to tell you. I wanted to spare you, but Cal is making it impossible. If I tell you, will you cooperate?" "I'm not promising anything," Wendell said. "You say you've got it all figured out, but I was hard as a rock a few minutes ago and now I'm down to nothing. I don't think there's any way for me to get aroused enough to screw Cal in the ass even if I wanted to. It was different with you." "Just leave it to me," said Joan. "Here's the secret: Cal fucked your wife." "What!" yelled Wendell. "You bastard! How the hell --?" "Wait a second," said Joan. "It was bad, but not that bad. It was before you were married. The way Jane told me, you had just started dating. She really liked you, but she wasn't sure how much you liked her. She was dating several other guys, and then Cal came along -- and you know how he is. He doesn't give up. So she slept with him before she slept with you. "Later on, she found out that you had told him about meeting her and how much you liked her, and for some reason, this made him want to have sex with her before you did. So he was a bastard. After your third date, Jane never went out with anyone else, including Cal. When she discovered he was your friend, she didn't want to tell you what happened. She couldn't believe it when I fell in love with Cal, but she told me he's changed a lot from what he used to be. Not enough, though, because that's why he's getting it in the ass tonight. You should have a lot of motivation now to make him suffer." "It's not that easy," said Wendell. "Sure I'd like to punch him in the face, but I still don't think I can do him in the ass." "Wait a minute, Wendell," said Cal. "Joan thinks she's hidden that video of you getting the snowball from Jane, but I found it on her hard drive and made a copy. If you do anything to me tonight, it's going viral on the Internet tomorrow." "No, it's not," said Joan, "because something that despicable would mean that half your assets would be mine. I couldn't stay married to you if you pulled that, so you're going to have to think long and hard. And just like you... once I finish our video tonight, I'm going to make it up to you. Maybe you've been lying when you tell me you've never found someone with a body like mine who's willing to do the things that I do with you. But I don't think you're stupid enough to throw that away. So you're not going to do anything with the snowball video." "Oh, yes I will," yelled Cal. He began screaming at her and occasionally at Wendell at the top of his lungs, threatening, pleading, begging and cursing in turn. But he was so weak and out of wind that his screams weren't any louder Joan was speaking. Joan smiled at Wendell and motioned for him to come close to her. She pulled his head down to hers and spoke in his ear. "Let him go on for a while," she said. "When he's had a chance to let off some steam, I'll tell you what to do." She bounced a couple of times on Wendell, and he had to stop to catch his breath, but then he began screaming again. After a while, his voice got hoarse, but he didn't give up until his yelling was barely above a whisper. Joan sat quietly on him, bouncing a couple of times every few minutes and smiling at Wendell. "I think we're ready," said Joan. Cal started squirming under her, but she bounced on him once again and he stopped. "I don't think I can do this, Joan," said Wendell. "I want you to stop thinking right now, Wendell," she said. "Put everything out of your mind except what I'm telling you. Look at me. Come around here in front of me at the foot of the bed. Cal's feet are back over his shoulders and you can't see them or his face. All you see is me sitting here facing you. Move a step to the right. There. Now, you can't see anything but me. Don't look down." "But I know it's there," said Wendell, "and I know it's Cal's ass." "That's okay for now, Wendell," said Joan. "Now please turn around and put your camera on that tripod over there. Then move the tripod to the letter "A" that I marked on the floor with crayon, and aim it behind me so it will shoot Cal's facial expressions. Now move the other tripods to B and C and aim them where I show you." When the cameras were positioned, she said, "Okay, now turn them on with the master switch and go to that easy chair and lift up the blanket that I put there. You'll see, under the blanket there's a plastic pouch with a long tube attached. Bring it over here, please." "Thanks. This is usually for an enema, but Cal is already cleaned out. I filled the thing with lubricant, and I want you to hold the pouch high in the air and just look at my face. Well, maybe close your eyes for a minute, because I've got to bend down and stick this tube as far into Cal as I can. "I just saw Cal's face for a second, and he looks horrible," said Wendell. "I don't know if he can take this." "Don't look at him," said Joan. "Open your eyes now and look at me. This isn't hurting him at all. He's just anticipating. I'm protecting him. He'll be so full of lube that he'll be inflated like a football. When your long, thick hose is all the way inside, there will be plenty of lube to keep it moving smoothly." At these words, Cal began squirming again, but his efforts were feeble. Joan didn't bounce on him. She lifted her head and looked at Wendell and smiled. "The lube seems to be flowing in nicely," she said. "The pouch is almost half empty already. Don't look so worried. You're going to be fine, Cal's going to be fine, and I'm going to be very happy. "It looks like it all went in. Now hand me the pouch please. I'm putting it on the bed and slowly pulling the tube out of Cal. There. Please take the bag and tube to the bathroom and put them on the counter. Then you can wash your hands and come back." When Wendell returned, she had him stand in front of her again so that she was blocking his view of Cal. "Now I want you to take all your clothes off, Wendell," she said, "But I want you to do it slowly. I'm sure this is the first and last time we will ever make love, and I want to savor every second of it. Look straight into my eyes as you are getting naked. Yes, like that. You look like a frightened rabbit, but I'm going to change that. "Your big thing is sad and droopy when you aren't excited, isn't it Wendell? Don't get upset. I'm just taking it all in so I can enjoy the contrast later. Now that you're naked, I want you to crawl onto the bed and face me on your knees. That's it. I know you are afraid to come too close, but you're not touching anything right now. "Listen to me closely, Wendell. This is the last time I'm going to mention Cal. He isn't here anymore. Today you are making love to me, but it's special, because you aren't going to say anything. You will just follow my instructions. You aren't going to think of anything except following those instructions. "I want you to scoot forward a little until we're almost touching. That's it. Now I want you to lean forward and kiss me." There was silence for nearly a minute, and then Joan said. "Wow! You are some kisser. When I stuck my tongue down your throat, you really perked up. Or was it when I started stroking your penis and testicles with my hands covered in lube. No, don't look down. Look straight at me. "I'd like you to stroke my breasts with your hands now. That feels so good. Do you like my breasts? Are they as sexy as Jane's? No, don't say anything, just keep stroking. You see how hard my nipples are? Is that why you're getting so hard in my hands? "I've wanted to make love to you for a long time, Wendell. I never thought I'd have the chance. I'm so excited about this, but I'm worried that you're so big now that you're going to hurt my pussy. So I don't want you to do anything except stroke my breasts for now. I'm taking hold of you and slowly putting just a little into my pussy. "There, you're in me. You're so tight I can barely stand it. That's why I'm squirming like crazy. But ignore my squirming. Don't I feel good inside. Move closer and push in a little more. I want another kiss now, and while we are kissing, I want you to slowly move deeper and deeper into me. Don't hurry this. Let's make it last a long time." There was silence again except for some fast panting and barely audible hoarse moans from Cal. "That kiss was even better, Wendell. I'm out of breath. And you're starting to feel so good inside me. Just look at my breasts while I look down at my pussy. Move in just a little more now... There, you're all the way inside. It looks so exciting to me. Let's just stay like this for a second and enjoy it. Do you mind if I stroke your chest a little? "I think I'm ready now, Wendell. I want you to move out of me an inch or two. Just guess because I want your face focused only on mine. Then move back all the way in, and as soon as you're in, begin pulling out again. "Each time you pull out, I want you to pull a little further, and then each time you push in, I want you to pick up the pace just a little. Keep looking at my face and my breasts. That's it. Don't rush things. Just a little faster and farther each time. Perfect. "Now you're going at a good pace. Don't speed it up anymore, but stay in that rhythm, and yes, work my breasts with your hands in the same rhythm. That was a great idea. But keep pulling out further each time. I want to eventually feel you pulling out of me completely and then plunging back in. That will be a special feeling for me, and I'm sure it will make my body really jump. There, you did it. Did you feel how my body went wild? What a feeling to have that huge thing rip out of me and then push in all the way to the bottom. There's nothing like that. Do it again! Again! Again!" She was looking down as she said this, and there were shrieks of pain coming from Cal, but they were weak. Joan's voice was getting louder, so all Wendell heard was her. "Okay," she said. "I think I've had enough of that. Now I want you to do something else for me. I'm going to lean back a little, and I want you to lean forward. I'm going to move closer to you also and hug you until I feel you crushing my breasts. I want that feeling. There. Now I want you to think of your lower body as a machine. I'm holding your upper body tightly, and I want you to hold me, too, but your lower body is a sledgehammer, and I want you to start pounding it into me as hard as you can, slowly at first. "That's it. Do you feel how my body is bouncing off you as you slam into me and then bouncing back to meet yours. When we collide, you're slamming into me twice as hard. It's making me squirm and move even more than before. Okay, keep holding me tight. I hear your breathing, and it sounds like you're ready to come. "I'm going to make it even better for you because I'm reaching one hand down to your balls and grabbing onto them as you pound me. I'm going to squeeze and pull them now to heighten your excitement. It's working, I think, because your breath is getting crazier and you're almost out of control and pounding me even harder. "Now I'm going to reach around you with my other hand and grab one of your buttocks. I can barely hold on because you're going so fast. Make some kind of sound to let me know when you think you're almost there. Already? That was quite a sound. Like a wild animal. "Okay, now listen. When you come, you can pound into me once or twice more, but then I want to you really smash down and stop completely while you are all the way inside me. I want all that come to go deep into my pussy. And then I want you to just lay on me until Mr. Big Man becomes Mr. Little Man. There. You're coming. I can feel you spurting into me. I'm putting both hands around your ass and pulling you in as deep as I can. What an amazing feeling! "Now rest on me, Wendell. I love the feel of your sweaty body on mine. You did it. I knew you could. You don't have to focus on me anymore. I see you're soft, so you can get up if you want to. You sure did that fast. Okay, run to the bathroom. It's all right." When he came back, she said, "I know this may be tough to watch, Wendell, but I need you to focus on getting this last part on video. So try not to think about what you just did or anything else. You are now a professional videographer and just doing what the customer wants. You aren't involved in any way." Memories She bounced on Cal a few times, but other than a soft whooshing, there was no sound. "I think he's too worn out to give me any trouble," she said as she got up off him. He had a horrible expression on his face, but he didn't say anything as she gently lifted his arms away and grabbed each foot in turn and slowly brought it from behind his head back down to the mattress. "I'm going to need your help turning him over, Wendell," she said, and after they rolled him onto his stomach, she had Wendell lift him up so that she could crawl under Cal in the 69 position. Cal was collapsed on top of her, but she directed Wendell to push a thick pillow between them where her breasts were touching Cal's stomach. The pillow propped up Cal so that it looked like he was on his knees with his rear in the air. From below she spread his legs and then asked Wendell to position some small cushions under her head. Cal still didn't move. "That's perfect, Wendell," she said. "My mouth is just below his anus. Now get the camera ready and when I tell you, push my head just a little more forward with the cushions so I can get my tongue inside him." "Why do you want to do that now?" said Wendell. "I don't even think he can appreciate what you're doing the way he's lying there like he's dead." "I'm doing it for two reasons," she said. "The first one is because I promised, and the second one is that even though he may feel nothing now, he'll get to watch it on video. Okay, push the cushions forward." He filmed her licking around his anus and then pulling it open and thrusting her tongue in as a little semen began to come out. He filmed her catching some of the semen with her tongue and swirling it around a little in her mouth and then swallowing it. She began thrusting in and out of Cal's slimy anus as if she were banging him with her tongue. Finally, she stopped. "One last thing, Wendell," she said. "Please listen carefully and remember, because I won't be able to remind you. I'm now going to attempt to get every drop of semen you deposited in Cal into my mouth. After that, I'm going to wake him up. And after that -- well, you just need to capture everything I do close up with your camera. Remember, you're no longer involved. You're just the cameraman. Now bring me that bulb syringe. It's on the same chair where the enema bag was." "I don't see a syringe," he said, "just a rubber ball." "That's it," she said. "Turn the ball over and you'll see a long tapered snout. Give it to me, please. See, it's full of air. I'm pushing the spout deep into Cal and then squeezing all the air into him. "The only way to get all the come out is for him to push it out like he's going to the bathroom. But he's too exhausted to do that. And even if he could, he wouldn't because it's painful. I remember how much it hurt on the toilet for a couple of weeks after you ravaged my ass. "There, I just squeezed a second ball of air into Cal. He's out of it, but his body is starting to squirm. I think he'll wake up after the third air injection, because he's going to be extremely uncomfortable. Four should do it. "He's too exhausted to keep control for long. Eventually, he'll have to fart out the air, and with the air, he'll fart all the come you deposited into him. He'll scream from the pain, but he won't be able to stop, and all the come is going to shoot into my mouth. That's why you've got to be ready now, because as soon as that stuff fills my mouth, I won't be able to talk. So just focus in close on the action and keep following me no matter where I go and what I do. "There, that's the second bulb full of air inside him. I can feel him starting to react. And there's the third one. Look at him now. The discomfort is waking him up. After the next one, I'm going to hold on for dear life so that I can keep his anus lined up with my mouth." When Cal let loose, he screamed, but his scream was almost drowned out by a sound like a gun firing, and a huge wad of come flew right at Joan. She got most of it in her mouth, but some of it splattered over her face. Then there were smaller eruptions, and more screams, and the come began flowing out of Cal like running water right into Joan's wide open mouth. After a while, the come slowed to a trickle and then to drops. Joan pulled herself free from Cal. Because the pillows were elevating his lower body, she easily pushed him over onto his back. Wendell kept filming. She crawled onto Cal and sat on his stomach. Cal had his eyes open but wasn't totally awake. He was blinking, but seemed to be in a trance. Joan's cheeks were bulging. Joan leaned over Cal and slapped him hard on the face. He shook his head, but his eyes were still somewhere else. She slapped him hard a second time, and this time he began blinking faster and then focused on her. He tried to move, but she bounced on his stomach again until he stopped. He stared at her as she raised her hands to both sides of her face and pointed at her bulging cheeks. His eyes widened in horror and he began squirming again. After a few more bounces quieted him, she moved forward onto his chest and then leaned over and kissed his eyes. At least that's what Wendell first thought as he filmed her face and Cal's close together. But when she raised her head, he saw that what she had done was open her mouth enough to dribble semen onto each eye. It had caused Cal to squeeze them tightly shut. She looked over at Wendell, and he thought she was smiling. He couldn't be sure, because she looked so grotesque with her cheeks bulging out. Then she lowered her head for a few seconds to Cal's nose. When she lifted it again, there was a large gob of come on his upper lip. She moved her index finger to it and started to push the come into his nostrils. Cal's eyes were still tightly shut. He tried to move his head away from her fingers, but she just followed him. She didn't stop until she had pushed all the come from his upper lip into both nostrils. Wendell could see they were filled with the thick white fluid. She lifted her head and looked at Wendell again with that expression that might have been a smile. Then she leaned over to examine Cal's nose stuffed with come. She pointed at Cal's mouth. His lips were tightly sealed, except for slight cracks at the corners where he was trying to breathe. She gently placed one hand over his mouth and then slowly pushed down, sealing his mouth. He began moving his head in every direction again, but her hand stayed with him. No air could get through it. Though they were covered with semen, he opened his eyes wide in fright. Now his body was starting to move around, too, and he was kicking his legs. They were weak kicks. Joan watched him with her strange expression as he struggled. His struggles gradually got weaker, and it looked to Wendell like he might pass out. Joan motioned to Wendell with her other hand for him to get closer. She pointed at Cal's face, and he knew she wanted a close-up of what was about to happen. Finally, she took her hand off Cal's mouth and there was a sound of desperate gasping. Cal's mouth opened wide to pull in air. While he gasped, Joan took his head gently in her hands and turned him so he was looking directly at her. Her face was about six inches above his. His mouth was wide open as he gasped. She slowly opened her mouth and a huge torrent of come fell from it directly into Cal's mouth. Then Cal's sound changed to a mixture of choking, gasping, sputtering, gulping, spitting and sneezing. Most of the come went down Cal's throat as he swallowed fast to keep from choking. But a lot of it was sneezed out through his nose and onto his face, and some was spit out as he gasped. His face was soon covered with a thick coat of semen. Joan got off of Cal and took the camera from Wendell. She filmed Cal for five minutes until he was breathing normally again. He was shaking and sobbing as she turned off the camera and went into the bathroom. She didn't close the door, and Wendell heard her gargling three or four times. Then she was back with a hot wet towel. She turned to Wendell, who was standing like a statue with his mouth hanging open. "You can go now, Wendell," she said, and then she began gently washing Cal's face. As he got dressed and left, he didn't look at them. He heard Cal sobbing, and he heard Joan kissing him and soothing him with soft words, like a mother soothing a colicky baby. "Joan told me you made her come twice," said Jane the next day. "Just your hands on her breasts and watching you going in and out of Cal. She said that Cal is getting over it, but she suggests that we keep the two of you apart for a while. I should be getting my copy of the video next week. Do you want to watch it with me?" "No," said Wendell. "Once is enough for that kind of weird stuff." "Okay," said Jane, "but I'm warning you that when I watch it, well -- you know what it will do to me, so you better be ready for some heavy action that night." Memories It has been an extremely long time since I have written anything, and I am really hoping to get back to it soon. As such, criticism is welcome, however let's keep it polite please :) Hope you like it. ***** While you are not here, I find myself thinking of you. I am not whole; I am a half without my corresponding other. My body yearns for the feel of your skin against my skin; my mind misses the connection of yours. I miss the connection and sensation of skin to skin contact, feeling full and surrounded by you. My whole world narrowed down to one person - you. The memory of your hand against the softest skin of my lower back sends shivers down my spine. Its such a sensitive spot that I long to feel this touch again, though you don't know just how much it affects me. I remember how it feels as you glide your hand up to cup my breast, feeling my nipple get hard under your caressing palm. Tormenting me by only slightly moving your palm you make me wait and want for a far more firm touch, perhaps a firm pinch of my tight, throbbing and swollen nipple. The heat of your body as you lean over me, covering me with your strength, your hardness. I writhe, feeling your hands tease me, slowly sliding over my curves. Your breath against my neck sends me to a place I have never been before. Filled with longing and anticipation, my nerves are on edge, waiting, hoping for a gentle rasp of your teeth against my neck. As I feel your teeth gently close on my shoulder, I spasm, gripped tight in pleasure. I hear little whimpering moans and as I surface back to sanity, I realize that it is me. I find I cannot hold still, my hips are slowly grinding against yours, and my body feels as though I will burst apart into flames. Under my palms I can feel your heart racing, this teasing you are so fond of, affects you as much as I. Your breathing quickens, and I can feel your tension radiating through your body. You lean back to look into my eyes and we are caught in a moment of time. The world stops around us as we see into the soul of the other, seeing hunger, desperation and passion. I am caught in your intense gaze, at this moment I am a fly caught in a carefully woven web. I cannot get free, and find that I do not want to. At this time I am pliant in your arms, willing to do anything and everything that you wish, if it will bring me ever closer to you. Your lip quirks into a cocky smirk as you see what you have done to me with naught more than a few caresses and a kiss. I feel your palm sliding down my side and around to my inner thigh, teasing the sensitive flesh with light strokes of your fingers. I lift my hips up toward you, silently begging with my eyes for you to continue what you have started. Begging you to slide your fingers over my pussy lips and caress my hot folds. As you grant my wish, my eyes flutter shut, I cannot bear the pleasure that you give me. Light drifting touches from your fingertips glide over my wetness, grazing my clit. Suddenly pleasure explodes and my eyes fly open as you plunge two fingers deep inside my clenching pussy, deeply. You start finger fucking me hard and fast, my head thrown back and my eyes sightless, as I feel the tension increasing. I beg you to let me come this time, to not tease me. I feel you stop right before I come, and my body jerks with denial - still trying to find the completion that only you can bring me. Once more you plunge you fingers into me, and I can tell this time you won't stop. Your eyes hold the devils glint as you curve you fingers, roughly rasping over my g spot. I am gasping and writhing as you hold my thighs open, plunging not only two but three fingers into me. As you feel me reaching my peak you lean down and suck my clit into your mouth, feeling me fall over the edge of the cliff. I open my eyes as I hoarsely scream out your name, blinded to everything around me by the feeling of bliss inside of me. When I see again I look at you only to discover that I did not come by your hands - nor mine. I have reached this bliss merely by the thought and the memories of what you have done to me. Memories It seems a long time ago now, the legendary long hot summer of '76. The country basked in endless sunny days without a cloud in the sky, hose-pipes were banned and the grass died whilst the TV broadcasted messages about saving water and showed clips about empty reservoirs with dry cracked mud and old drowned villages accessible once more. I had just finished school, had turned eighteen and wondering what the future held. I absolutely had no idea what to do – except that I knew what I wasn't going to be. I was not going to be a teacher, not in any lifetime; I had had enough of classrooms and looking at the dead look in the eyes of a middle aged man recounting endless drivel that had no use to kids who had little interest in learning it. I had no intention of turning into that middle aged man with leather arm patches. I didn't want to work in a boring office like my father, shuffling paper covered in figures. I might work in retail or industry – except that I didn't want to be a salesman paid in a competition against my colleagues. Other than that, my prospects were an empty book. I remember the ride on the school bus every day, now finished. I had been regularly distracted from my dilemmas by Adele, a pretty girl from my village who shone with golden blonde hair and a ready smile. Silently every day I had gazed on the waves of radiant locks, never having the courage to start a conversation although she lived in my street; indeed our gardens overlooked each others'. Adele had always sat in the same seat on the bus, in front of me and alongside her friend Julie. Julie was somewhat plumper and had developed breasts somewhat earlier - to the excitement of the rest of the village boys. However it was Adele, the more athletic of the two who always had my attention. At school she had been a member of the hockey team and did wondrous things to a pair of tight white shorts. Hmm, happy memories... She was in the same year as me so like myself, she would be considering her future. I knew that her parents were hoping for her grades to be sufficient to go to university, escape the village and make something of her life. A regular entertainment for us village kids was to swim at the pil. No 'Proms' were held in those days; we entertained ourselves. We lived on the coast and 'pil' (pronounced 'pill') was a local word, meaning a gully where a stream had cut a deep path across the flat muddy grassland of a local estuary as it joined the sea. Our village was on the side of a steep hill overlooking the estuary, where the tides were notorious and could flow faster than any of us could swim. For this reason we would only go there when the tide was incoming so that we would not be swept out to sea but instead we'd eventually end up safely on dry land. One Saturday morning, knowing that the tide was suitable and that several of my friends would be there, I wore my swimsuit under my jeans and strolled down the hill to the pil. It was conveniently near to an old wartime gunnery range platform which provided a raised area out of the incoming tide with a safe track back to the village. The tide had ebbed but was now starting to come in, perfect. The others were gathering and I saw Adele wearing a green one-piece costume that showed off her hair shining in the sunshine, long slim legs and her bright smile. I had known her for many years of course but now I saw that womanhood had at last blossomed and a firm pair of breasts had developed along with widening hips. I stripped off my jeans and T shirt and jumped into the stream, which had steep muddy sides. The seawater was cold despite the sultry weather but as there was no option but to jump straight in – which avoided the bracing shoulder-duck, I quickly became adjusted to the temperature. After a while the tidal current picked up and we had races, challenging each other to see how long we could swim between two points before being swept backwards onto a beach where we could climb out to run back and start the fun again. Afterwards we lay down talking in the sun on the grass bank of the gunnery platform. One by one the others drifted away and disappeared along the track until only a couple were remaining. I realised that I had forgotten a towel and anything to change into, so I decided to stay until I dried out enough to put my jeans back on. I closed my eyes and dozed off. When I woke I found that Adele was lying close by, still wearing the green swimsuit. Her eyes were shut against the blazing sun. As we faced the sea we were hidden from the land, seemingly alone in the world. All the others had left. I checked out her slim body with young breasts bursting against the cheap skin-tight material,the outlines of her nipples clearly defined. I noticed that a wisp of blonde pubic hair had escaped from the side of the swimsuit where it was cut high around the thighs. Fascinated by this sign of sexuality, my world went suddenly quiet. As I watched the hairs fluttering in the breeze I noticed that her eyes had opened and she was watching me as I studied her crotch with its slight groove disappearing into the shadowy cleft. I blushed but she made no attempt to clamp her legs together as I expected, nor to snap abuse at me. Instead she put her hands behind her head and looked up at the clear blue sky, where a jet liner passed silently high above leaving a trail of white vapour scarring the clear deep blue. Slowly I saw the thighs separate even more to allow me a clearer view of the mound of her pussy. After a while she stood, quickly pulled on her clothes over her costume and with a single word "Bye" strolled off towards the village along the track. * * * At that time my parents were building an extension to our house and I was expected to help with labouring jobs; shovelling, barrowing and carrying building materials. A couple of days after that day of the swim we had a delivery of sand which was tipped from a truck into a massive pile blocking our driveway. Throughout the afternoon and evening I shoveled sand into a wheelbarrow and dumped it around the other side of the house. As the light faded into dusk and I continued to shift sand I noticed bight lights switch on inside the bungalow across the street - where Adele lived. I could see clearly into a bedroom and Adele was inside, walking around the room alone. I stood still for a moment, wondering if she could see me in the gathering gloom. As I watched, she removed her T shirt to show a white cotton bra. Then she stooped and when she stood upright I saw that she had also removed her jeans to reveal a pair of tight white cotton panties with a floral pattern. She was holding the jeans, which she tossed onto a chair. She turned away, reached behind her back and unfastened her bra which she removed and also placed on the chair. She slowly (painfully slowly) turned to face the window, whilst I held my breath lest she notice me watching. She was showing to the world a pair of alabaster white breasts contrasting against the brown skin of the rest of her tanned body. Her pink nipples were clearly visible as she walked around the room just wearing a pair of girl's panties on a woman's body. The next moment she stood right in front of the window, held both arms wide apart without any consideration of her privacy, grasped the curtains in each hand and closed the curtains across her front and I could see no more. * * * The summer went on – and on. It seemed that the weather would never break. I found myself a job working in the stockroom of a large store in the nearby town while I figured what to do with my life. Then one evening a couple of weeks afterwards I met a friend who said that the tides were about right for another gathering at the pil. The next weekend we all gathered again for a swim and as usual had races against each other and the tide. Because of the times of the tide it was during the afternoon rather than the morning of the earlier trip and the hazy heat shimmered across the marshland. Soon the others began to drift away as before and again I found myself alone with Adele. She was wearing the same costume, as was I – in those days people didn't have a different swimsuit for every day of the week. As we lay basking in the sun of the afternoon I noticed Adele sit up straight. "What do think of Julie?" The random question caught me off guard, "She's OK. What do you mean?" Adele squinted at me, "You were always staring at her on the bus, do you fancy her?" I stammered, for she had obviously noticed my glances but apparently misunderstood them. "No, I don't. I mean she's nice and she's pretty, but I don't particularly fancy her like some of the others do." "She's got big tits. Boys like big tits." I could feel my face reddening, "I don't, I never thought much of them." She leaned forwards and twisted towards me, "Do you like my breasts? They're not as big as Julie's, but do you like them?" I was too embarrassed to make any intelligent answer but nodded stupidly. Then without warning she pulled the material of her costume forward, so that I could see right down her cleavage. She bent down to show me the entirety of her boobs, including the pink nipples that I had admired previously, "Well, what do you think, are they nice?" This was a loaded question obviously. What did she expect, detailed criticism? "They're lovely, beautiful." "Are they too small? Boys prefer big ones don't they? Are you sure they're OK?" I tried to assure her that I liked her breasts no matter what others thought. She relaxed and lay back on the grassy bank. Then after a minute she reached up to her shoulder-straps and nonchalantly pulled down the top of her costume, exposing her smooth pale breasts and pink puffy nipples. The swimsuit was ruched around her trim waist as she looked into my face, judging my reaction. I was stunned by this exhibitionism and said nothing, as she lay back on the grass in the blazing sun. Then she closed her eyes and spoke. "Do you want to stroke them?" I wasn't sure if my ears were working correctly so just lay still taking in the sight. My body quickly reacted though and I could feel my costume getting very tight around my growing erection. She spoke again. "I've never had a boy touch my tits, I want to see what it's like. Julie said that she loves it, I've tried stroking them myself but it didn't do anything for me." Cautiously, slowly, I reached out and brushed the warm, velvety soft skin of her left breast. As I did so the nipple rose and her breathing stopped. My fingers moved down around and past the nipple without touching it, continuing to her flat stomach. I clumsily reached up, grabbed the breast and squeezed it, feeling the surprising firmness of the flesh. Her hand came up and caught hold of mine. "Don't do it like that, it was nice the first time." She replaced my hand at her shoulder and let it trickle gently down over the delicate skin, "Like that. Do it like that." Following her instructions I stroked the breast with a feather-light touch as she lay still and closed her eyes and breathed gently again. After several minutes she spoke again, "Julie was right, it's very nice." On the next brush I let my hand wander down over her belly, feeling the gentle swell of her belly near to the folds of her costume. However she was having none of that; firmly my hand was returned to the breast. So I continued for some twenty minutes carefully caressing the soft mound with its bright pink summit. Eventually the nipple softened and Adele's breathing became steady as she gazed at the scenery on the further side of the estuary. Only my erection had sustained as my arm was tiring. I stopped stroking and gazed at my topless neighbour. After a couple of seconds however she stirred and looked into my eyes, "You've stopped." She quickly pulled her costume back up, securing the straps over her shoulders. "It's very soothing, I love it." She paused. "Do you want to meet me here again tomorrow?" I was still dumbfounded but managed to reply with a simple "Yes." With that, Adele was up and dressing as she walked back along the track. * * * So the summer continued to the end. Most afternoons I met Adele at the pil, no matter what the state of the tide. She enjoyed having her breasts stroked and I enjoyed obliging her. She generally wore tight jeans and a T shirt, which was always quickly discarded along with the white cotton bra that was underneath; the low earth bank of the platform afforded us privacy from any prying eyes but it was an isolated spot, far from the village. I became bolder with the passing weeks and she allowed me to cup her breasts and circle her nipples with the tip of a finger, which would make her tense and bring the nipple instantly to attention. Sometimes I circled both nipples simultaneously, one clockwise the other anti-clockwise. She enjoyed this and would sit up leaning back on her elbows. For variety once I tried circling both in the same direction but she preferred the symmetry of opposite circling. I found that a caress from her breast across her ribs and under her arm-pits made her shudder. A lightly trailed fingernail over the top of her shoulder and down past her breasts to her stomach, below her navel was another favourite, also down the inside of her arm and the crook of her elbow. Sometimes she rolled onto her stomach and I stroked her back, muscled from the gym and hockey pitch. Once she even removed her jeans, lay on her front and let me run my fingernails delicately over her bottom covered with those inevitable floral panties and then down the backs of her thighs and knees as far as her calves. Together we explored her body and found the spots that made her sigh – and I learned how to touch those sensitive zones. But strangely perhaps the contact never progressed further for the whole summer. She would normally only remove her top, lie back with her hands clasped behind her head and I would start stroking. There would be no suggestion of taking the relationship any further. She never touched me in return – which would have probably caused a very embarrassing episode. Every night though, alone in my room my imagination would fill in the blanks to a swift fulfilment. Then inevitably one day in September the weather broke with a vengeance. Dark thunderclouds rolled in from the ocean,across the estuary and torrential rain fell. This event coincided with me finally deciding on a career and Adele leaving for university. On the last day before she was to leave I saw her in the village shop. Water dripped from her furled umbrella hooked over her arm as she finished making a purchase. "Why don't you come over my place," she said. "My dad needs a hand with some stuff." She left the store quickly and shut the door behind her. I followed her out and made my way back to her house. I saw straight away that the family car was absent. This meant that her parents were out but I didn't understand the significance immediately. I went around to the back door and shortly after Adele let me in. She had removed her coat and was wearing just a T shirt but had removed her lower clothing; however the length of the garment was such that I couldn't see her panties - or whether she wore shorts. "Everyone's out, gone to town. They'll be a couple of hours yet. Take off your shoes, don't get the carpet dirty." I bent down to untie my shoe laces, which gave me a brief opportunity to study her bare feet and long legs with her T shirt still maintaining her modesty. She turned and led me across the deep carpet through the bungalow to a bedroom. I recognised the room as the one which I had observed her in previously. She sat on the bed and indicated to me to settle next to her. The bed was covered in a deep, soft quilt with a pattern of roses and smelled of feminine scent. "I'll be going away in a couple of days to Uni." With that she raised the T shirt to her waist and lay back on the quilt showing me a full mop of golden curls, "Stroke me here this time." I was shocked and disconcerted to realise that she had removed her panties and was showing me her private area. She took my hand and placed it on her flat belly and slowly moved it down through the downy pubic hair. Her thighs were slightly parted and the lips of her pussy were visible. A pair of crinkly inner labia protruded slightly as my fingers gently parted the locks, with her legs moving further apart as I did so. "I want to know what it feels like to be touched down there before I go." She closed her eyes and spread her legs widely, letting me stroke her pubes just like I'd caressed her breasts many times before. She allowed me to smooth and part the hair gently, with my fingers on her outer labia either side of the precious opening. I was permitted to explore the commencement of the vagina with its tiny clitoris but any movement between the lips was firmly discouraged so I settled down to stroke the flesh between the thighs. It seemed hours later when she looked at me again. "Julie was right, it is wonderful. She said it was, she's much more experienced than me. Adele sat up, "Can I touch you, I want to feel a boy. Take off your jeans." In some confusion I undid my jeans and removed them along with my pants. I sat back on the bed, just wearing my T shirt and socks with my cock sticking right out in the air. To me it appeared ridiculous but she studied it seriously. With a gentle touch she wrapped her fingers around it and held my penis still. "It's warm, I never really expected that. How stupid. What do I do with it now?" My cock was twitching fit to burst as she gripped it, so I showed her how to hold it more loosely and move rhythmically over the glans and shaft. It didn't take long of course, within a few seconds I was spurting uncontrollably across the quilt and her thighs. When I breathed again and looked at her she was looking puzzled and horrified all at the same time. "That's disgusting, Julie didn't say it was like that." She was inspecting her hand and the semen that was running and dripping from it. Then she gagged and ran from the room. I could hear a tap running and feeling embarrassed I got dressed again. Soon she returned carrying a roll of toilet paper and wiped the mess from the quilt-cover. "Ugh, I can smell it." She scrubbed the wetness with bundles of paper. "I'm sorry, it caught me by surprise. I wasn't expecting that. You'd better go now." Embarrassed, I quickly left her house and within a couple of days afterwards she left the village. So my summer of exploration came to an end. I had started that year as a fumbling kid and ended it with worthwhile life-skills. The next time I became close to a girl I managed it better, plus she seemed to enjoy how I touched her. Some years later I heard of Adele and found what had become of her. She had quit university early and returned home, pregnant. She later married a local farmer and bred prize-winning pigs. A couple of years ago she suddenly divorced her husband, left everything behind including her now adult son and moved to Spain. Julie became a hairdresser in the village but suffered from obesity and back problems. Nowadays several grandchildren and pet dogs are her world. Myself? I left for a city job, married the bosses daughter and later inherited the firm. I like to think that the skills I learned during that long hot summer have served me well in life. Memories I remember the first time you spread my legs open wide and pushed that huge rubber dildo into my pussy. You were gentle but firm and the more I squirmed and squealed the more you pushed me, mentally. You knew I had never felt the touch of anything but skin… and maybe a few idle phallic-like objects I had found around the house. Only later did I learn that the dildo was branded with "Bronco". I still haven't learned to squeeze that entire thing into me. What a cuntfull. You had my heart and now you had my body, twisting and thrashing, overwhelmed with fresh pleasure. I remember the first time you pushed the head of your cock against my asshole. My fingers had probed many times in the past, but I'd never forged beyond. You were careful, and lubed… patient as I tried to relax. You only managed to get the head of your shaft into me that day, but better days were on their way. And I'll never forget the day you came home with those rubber-tipped nipple clamps. The cold chain between the clamps caused a chill to run down my spine, making my nipples even harder inside those clamps. You screwed the clamps tighter than I thought I could handle and told me to relax and trust you. The pain did eventually turn to pleasure… until they were removed. I'll never forget that throbbing either – not that it meant the end of fun times with those. It makes me wet to recall the night you snuggled up behind me, spooning my body. I was used to feeling your cock press against my ass, but instead you surprised me. Rolling me over onto my stomach and demanding that I spread the cheeks of my ass open, you pushed a butt plug into my asshole. I played along, sleeping in it several nights, learning to accept it and enjoy it, knowing it was stretching me just wide enough to accept your cock. I still sleep in it some nights, though putting it in me isn't easy... or as fun. You took Polaroid pictures of me one afternoon, if my memory serves me correctly, too. Where are those pictures? I remember your jaw dropping when you realized I was able to suck on my own nipples. I must have sucked on them for hours that day. They were sore the next day… and so was your cock and right hand. Over and over again you stroked your shaft, shooting your hot loads of sperm across my long nipples. That got both of us going. Remember going around town and looking for swingers magazines, wondering if we'd ever be brave enough to follow through? We weren't. At the time, it was me. I wasn't brave enough. Now? Well you seem all settled down. I do remember the time we weren't dating, but had decided to just be friends. I was dating that redhead girl, Libby. She was quite a bundle of energy. Her face was buried in my twat through our entire relationship, I think. If I could learn to suck cock the way I learned to shove my tongue inside her deep holes, I'd keep a man thrilled for years. We thought we'd tease you a little that weekend we had all gone away together. You came back to the hotel room to find Libby and me naked and in the middle of some compromising positions. You weren't quite as bold in reality as you were in fantasy. You actually left and gave us privacy. We never did orgasm that day; we were so baffled and distracted by your reaction. I laugh at the times we fucked at your place. You had so many roommates and so little privacy. I thought the house was big enough for three guys to share, but with everyone having girlfriends and other friends at the house all the time, there was never a dull minute. Each time we'd fuck, we'd make a production of it – or rather, we'd just not worry bout the taunting people outside the locked bedroom door. After hours on my hands and knees and you fucking my brains out, we'd leave the room and be welcomed with rounds of applause and Olympic-like ratings. There was the time that the museum security ran us off on a sunny Saturday afternoon. Spread out on a blanket, you were painting and I was napping while half-ass reading through the latest Cosmo. I moved over to you and laid my head on your lap and the next thing I knew you had your fingers twined in my hair and your dick whipped out. The second I took a breath to protest, your dick was shoved to the back of my throat. The more I gasped and gagged that day, the deeper you humped my face. As the security cameras caught our philandering, they asked us to leave. Only after you were satisfied with the amount of cum you had shot into my mouth while they watched were you content to let me breathe again. Mmm…. So many memories of your hot cock, and my hot curves. I miss you, wherever you are. Memories & Moonlight Memories and Moonlight: A narrative from Ms. Gimply's collection I. Anticipating and Remembering It was a beautiful afternoon in late October. The sun was still far above the horizon. I laughed at myself for being ready so early. Was I becoming overly eager in my old age? No, I assured myself, I had been just as eager when I was young. I had spent the earlier part of the afternoon preparing a light supper for two of us, seeing to the table setting and putting the wine by the cool window on the north side to reach the proper temperature for serving. Then I bathed and did my hair and nails. I spent a long time selecting the right underwear. Then I donned the robe that now was loosely open in front of me. Now, I had nothing to do but wait. With no particular plan, I pulled an old photo album from the shelf. As I thumbed through it, my eye was caught by the group picture from our church picnic. A moment's reflection reminded me that it had been in the late Spring of 1969. My eyes were drawn immediately to our pastor. His picture showed him as a bit stiff and dressed more formally that the rest of us. His was the only necktie in the group accept, of course, the one worn by old Deacon Grimsby. On impulse, I took up a pad of paper and a pen and began to write these words. The pastor in the picture was young and, in spite of his attire, was trim and handsome. He had a kind of curious magnetism that thrilled me still. He had been my first lover. Then my eyes went to myself. I had been thirty years old then. The picture made me look young and even pretty. I was young and pretty at least until it came to my wasted legs with braces and orthopedic shoes. My crutches were at my side and I had tried unsuccessfully to make them inconspicuous. My first reaction was to be thankful that now we have materials to make braces lighter and less conspicuous and that we can get shoes that if not stylish, at least do not look like they were intentionally designed to be ugly. Of course, I rarely use braces any more as I rely more and more on my wheelchair. II. Being a Girl and Becoming a Woman My next reaction was to relive the hurt and pain of my teenage years and of my young womanhood. Life had been good when I was a young girl. Other children didn't seem to mind that I was different and couldn't keep up with them. And, besides, I got to have my picture in the local paper every year when the March of Dimes time came around. I was never one of the big time polio poster children, but everyone in our little town seemed to know me. But my teenage years were torture. I became interested in boys just like the other girls did. I had crushes that consumed me. But the boys never reciprocated. Even worse, the other girls never recognized that I was just like them. Many of my friends brought their boy problems to me as if I was a neutral, sexless, passionless oracle. Of course, I listened and gave them advice and swallowed my pain. I was never a cheerleader. But, of course, I was expected to volunteer to sew the cheerleaders' uniforms. I was never asked to a dance. Instead, I served behind the punch table. I couldn't have danced much anyway but it hurt to watch all the other girls being held close in the boys' arms. Eventually high school ended. I graduated with honors. As I walked slowly across the stage to receive my diploma, my classmates and the audience broke into applause and spontaneously stood. My eyes filled with tears, but not for the reasons they thought. They saw a poor, brave, crippled girl who had overcome her adversities to accomplish the feat of completing high school. I'm sure that made them feel warm and wonderful. Probably some of them had sentimental tears. But I cried because none of them really knew who I was. They couldn't see that I was a real girl who wanted and needed everything the other girls had. Then, I was a woman, I guess. I filled my life with church and volunteering at the library. Our extended family had agreed (to be fair, I had agreed, too) that I would be the one to take care of Gran and live in her house and eventually inherit it. Gran was getting a bit dotty in her old age. She had started to burn the food and to forget to pay the bills. The family feared that she would leave the stove on and burn down the house or have some other some other kind of senile misadventure. Of course, the neutral, sexless, passionless, and crippled sister, cousin and niece was the ideal solution. I really didn't mind. I loved Gran and I liked her even more. She could tell stories of things that happened long ago and could even be quite earthy when the story required it. Her house had two stories connected by a great Victorian stairway. The stairs were a drawback but if I planned well, I could limit my traverses to coming down once a day in the morning and then returning in the evening. We did have a cleaning lady who came in three days a week. That was cantankerous old Mrs. Fogg. I was almost twenty-five years old before I was told about the absent Mr. Fogg. In our town, children were protected from this kind of knowledge. Gran told me that Mr. Fogg was a drummer. (Perhaps my younger readers must be reminded that a traveling salesman was called a drummer.). He had come through town selling widgets of some sort. He and Mrs. Fogg had a whirlwind courtship and were married within a week of their meeting. Two weeks later he was gone, never to be seen again. Dear Gran ended her narration with some especially earthy remarks that I will not repeat here. In spite of her grumpy disposition, I always liked Mrs. Fogg, especially after Gran told me her story. At least she had ventured into life. She knew something about passion and love even if it hadn't worked out for her. I continued at the library and at the church. I read stories to the children on Saturday mornings. I was on duty at all the rummage sales, bake sales and church suppers. It was much the same as high school except for not having to face all the embracing boys and girls. Then things changed again. Marriages began. I was never a bridesmaid. It wouldn't have been seemly for me to be seen crutching and creaking down the aisle with the able-bodied women. I understood that but it did not ease the hurt. It was even more painful when they came to me in a panic for last minute alterations to their dresses. Of course, I was at all the receptions to serve refreshments and to watch the guests and the wedding party dancing. I was never a bride. When my friends were marrying, I desperately wanted a husband. When they soon had babies, I was desperate for children. But, after a few years, my friends began to confess their problems to me. I seemed still to be a neutral, sexless, passionless oracle. I heard stories of infidelity, drink, domestic violence and the loss of love. It did not take long to be convinced that I did not want a husband. It was more difficult to convince myself that I did not need to have children. But, I gradually accumulated a collection of nieces, nephews and young cousins. They all seemed to love their Auntie unconditionally and I reciprocated. They needed me and I needed them. Gradually, I understood that I didn't need to produce more children myself to be connected with the oncoming generations. So I was liberated when I was almost thirty years old. Well, I was liberated from needing a husband and children but issues remained. My last desperation was for a lover. I wanted a man to hold me and to lie in my bed. These days, you can read that we had a sexual revolution in the sixties. Even if we did, the revolution did not reach our town. At least it did not reach us by way of the written word. Ms magazine proclaimed the sexuality of women in 1972. Cosmo came on at about that time, too. Masters and Johnson published their research in the seventies. I explored marriage manuals from the fifties and before. They were not very helpful. A few books kept in the locked room at the library were of use. But generally information was scarce. Instead, I took matters into my own hands. I mean that quite literally. I experimented with pleasuring myself. I liked to lie naked on my bed at night and caress every part of my body. My breasts were particularly sensitive as were my thighs. I would slowly let one hand slip between my legs. At first I would let one finger slip into my vagina and explore the sensations there. It made me feel wonderfully full. As I gained experience, I began to use two fingers and then even three. The feeling of fullness put me into a dreamy ecstasy when I imagined that my lover was there. But the fullness was not fulfillment. But when I explored further, I found my clitoris. Of course, I didn't know the name for it then. I didn't know the names of most things sexual until a few years later. But even without a name to call it I was fascinated by this bit of tissue that grew and contracted as if it had a mind of its own. I always found it hard and swollen after I had explored and stimulated my vagina. One night I simply began to stroke my clitoris with a finger. I remember the evening vividly. It was warm and I had opened the window wide. I had drawn the curtains back as far as they would go to admit what little breeze there was. The moon was full and shining in. I lay uncovered and naked on my bed. My body seemed to glow in the pale yellow light and to radiate its own light as well. As I continued to stroke, my imaginary lover came with the moonlight and became so real that I could feel and see and taste and smell him. Then his presence filled the room and overcame me. My body went rigid as I convulsed and shook with ecstasy as I absorbed the phantom man and poured my being into his. Then I collapsed in fatigue. I think I shouted or screamed as well. I was glad that Gran was oblivious to noise as she slept soundly and without her hearing aid. I was glad, too that our closest neighbors were not very near. I lay there a long time, in and out of sleep, and felt little waves of pleasure come and go. I was so unnerved by the experience that I didn't repeat it for at least a week. During that time, I took serious stock of myself and my situation. I squarely faced that I was trapped in a small town. I knew that my disability made me unattractive to most men. But I knew that I had to overcome my circumstances and start a serious quest for a real lover. III. Preparing I periodically visited my cousins in the city. On my next visit I made an appointment with a gynecologist. I had intently studied the issues about birth control. Although the pill had been introduced in the early sixties, there were issues about blood clots. Poor circulation in my immobile legs ruled out the use of the pill. I had already settled on the use of a diaphragm. I only awaited the doctor to agree and to measure me for size. I took a cab from my cousin's house. I don't remember what lie I told about where I was going. In any case, I found myself in the doctor's office. I did not like the nurse. I'm not sure why. She instructed me to remove my clothes and to don a skimpy white gown. Of course, she meant my braces too, but she didn't say it in words. I complied. Then the trick was to get from the chair where I sat to the examining table. I could walk a bit without my braces. I rose by lifting myself with my crutches and the back of the chair. I carefully stiffened my right knee. Without the brace, my knee was hyperextended and quite fragile. In any case, it would support my weight. Without its brace and shoe, the other leg was useless. My extended toes barely reached the floor and offered no support. I walked this way at home for short times every day, mostly from bed to bathroom and return. First I leaned to the left and put my right crutch forward. Then I leaned to my right and extended my left crutch. Finally, I pulled my right leg forward and steadied my knee to begin the process again. It was easy as long as there were no steps or other obstacles to be surmounted. Also, more than a few minutes of it would make my right leg sore for days. I turned carefully and used my arms to lift myself to sit on the examining table. The nurse took my crutches and propped them against the wall near the chair and my braces. She still acted as if she didn't like what she was doing. The doctor came after a short wait and interviewed me about my health history. I had nothing to confess except for the effects of polio which were obvious to anyone who had me dressed in a short gown. He slid his stethoscope under the gown and listened to my heart. Then he asked me to breathe deeply. I guessed he was checking my lungs. Finally, he said that he was going to proceed to a pelvic examination. He left the room after instructing the nurse to get me ready. At her direction, I gathered up my legs and laid back on the table. She extended the stirrups that were to hold and separate my legs. I had to ask her to help me place them in the stirrups. She seemed to resent it but complied. Finally she lowered the hinged end of the table so that the doctor could have unimpeded access to my most secret place. Waves of conflicting emotion flowed through me. At one level, the stirrups were reassuring and supporting in a way that reminded me of my braces. But I also felt a flush of terror at being so open and vulnerable with nothing between me and assault except the thin gown. Over all that was the sense of satisfaction that I was really a woman and was about to have the experience that proved it. The nurse left the room and I felt a brief wave of panic. I recognized the emotion and it subsided. I often feared being abandoned where I could not rescue myself. But in addition to the fear, there is a part of it that thrills and excites me. It has been a recurring part of my life and in recent years I have begun to explore the thrill and excitement side. The doctor returned. The nurse stationed herself at the side of the room where I did not have to look at her. For the first time I looked directly in the doctor's eyes. He was beyond middle age but not elderly. His eyes were kind and not judgmental. He looked like had seen a lot of life. He had the trace of a European accent that I could not place. I liked him and I trusted him. My young readers must be reminded that in those days many doctors were still reluctant to prescribe birth control to unmarried women. So, I had worn my late mother's engagement ring and had invented a future husband. He was, I told the doctor, even more disabled than I and we were really not going to be able to raise children. I also hinted that we had already been intimate and that our need for protection was urgent. He seemed to believe me or, at least, he did not object to the lie. After a brief and reassuring conversation, he pulled back the skimpy gown and I was exposed. I felt vulnerable but at the same time I felt safe with him. He unwrapped an instrument that I later learned was called a speculum. Then he coated it with some sort of jelly. "This is a lubricant that will make things go easier," he said. Then he slowly pushed it into my vagina. I gasped a little. "I'll go slowly, he said, and you need to relax." He had misinterpreted my gasp. I had welcomed the penetration. After all, I had already welcomed my three fingers and I was delighted that the speculum wasn't much bigger. He slowly inserted it to its full length. "Now I will expand it so that can see into your vagina," he said in a soothing voice, "Relax. I will go slowly." I trusted him completely. Of course the nurse was there but out of sight so it felt like there were just the two of us. He began to turn something on the instrument. I couldn't see what it was but the speculum began to grow in me until it was a size that I had never imagined I could hold. My emotions raced from one state to another. At once, I felt violated and fulfilled. Discomfort and pleasure competed for attention. "I'll be as quick as I can," he told me as he peered into me with the aid of a light. "Looks fine," he said laconically, "Now I'll take a smear from your cervix and we'll be done with this part." I felt something like a small pinch and a moment later the speculum began to relax its insistent hold and I felt it withdraw. As it did, I gave another little gasp for no reason that I recognized. "Now I would like to examine your internal organs," he said in a matter of fact voice as he donned a latex glove and slathered it with some more lubricant. "That requires two fingers inside and my other hand on your abdomen." Before I could speak, his fingers were gently entering. I welcomed the human touch instead of the speculum. Then his left hand was on my belly and began to explore in concert with the right. "Your uterus seems to be normal," he intoned, "Now, will check your ovaries and fallopian tubes. This may pinch a little or even be momentarily painful. I'll be as quick and as gentle as I can." He was right about the pinching and the pain, but it was over soon and he said "Wonderful, wonderful," as he explored me. He finished quickly and pulled off his glove. I assumed we were finished. "Just to be complete," he said, "we should examine the back of the vaginal wall." Then, to my surprise, he put on two gloves and lubricated them. "Try to relax," he intoned again. "This will take only a few seconds." Then he was inside my vagina again. Then to my astonishment, a finger of his other hand slid into my rectum and two hands together probed the thin tissue between them. It was over in an instant before I could even formulate a reaction. There were only vague reactions of violation, fullness, wickedness and perversion. I cannot honestly say that I disliked it. He shed his gloves and pulled the gown to cover me. He gave me a little smile and rested his hand on my knee. (Yes I know that modern feminist consciousness experiences that as sexist condescension, but I matured in the fifties and I felt reassured.) "Everything is just fine. If you ever decide to have a baby, there is no reason not to.", he smiled, "Except you should be careful of the extra weight on your legs and your balance might become tricky." He agreed that a diaphragm was the best choice of contraception and he wrote a prescription for one on his pad. He said that the instructions would come with it and that I should read them well. He insisted that it should never be used without the spermicidal jelly that I would get at the same time. After he left, I dismounted from the stirrups and then the table with the help of the nurse. She was still grumpy but I didn't care. I dressed and fastened my legs into their braces and returned to the reception area. The receptionist phoned for another cab and it arrived soon. I settled myself into it as the driver hovered solicitously by. I directed him to stop at the nearest pharmacy and we were off. The pharmacist stared at me long and hard and without embarrassment after he read the prescription slip that I gave him. I stared back, also without betraying embarrassment, until he broke our gazes and got on with his business. He handed me a small white paper bag. I brazenly asked him to include an extra tube of jelly. With his eyes still averted, he complied. I paid at the register and emerged to find my taxi. Memory is often a poor guide to what actually happened in the past. What I remember is that I emerged to the street with the words and music of "I am Woman. Hear me Roar" playing in my mind and in my ears. The historical fact seems to be that the song was never heard until some time later in the seventies when Helen Reddy made it popular. Whether memory serves or not, I felt as if I had been liberated. I went from the door to the waiting cab with a sense of triumph. I thought back to my graduation from high school. Now I was really graduating into the world of womanhood and sexuality. There was a standing ovation in my mind. Memories & Moonlight I even looked at the taxi driver in a new light. Of course, I rejected the possibility out of hand. But it was an exquisite pleasure to view the world with my new womanly and sexual eyes. I gloried as he hovered while I emerged at my cousin's house. I was probably too generous with the tip. I think the moon was full that night but I couldn't see it from the little guest room on the North side of the house. IV. Finding a Lover Back at home, life didn't change very much on the surface. I continued volunteering at the library and at church. I attended at the rummage sales and I served punch and cookies at our little social occasions. But below the surface, the difference was profound. I examined every available man in our town with my new eyes informed by my new sexual freedom. I decided that several of my friends' husbands were available but I quickly pushed them out of consideration. The single men that came to the library and to church were all flawed in little ways that probably explained why they were still unmarried. At home, I experimented with my new diaphragm. After some trial and error, I learned to insert it quickly and easily. Knowing that it was inside me made my imaginary lovers even more real than they were before. However, the problem of finding a real lover remained. Then the new pastor came to town. He wasn't really a full-fledged clergyman. Our church was too poor to afford a real full time preacher. Instead we got an intern from the seminary who was to be with us for a year. Our only obligation was to house and feed him when he spent the weekends with us. At the church meeting where the plan for an intern minister was considered, Gran volunteered that we could accommodate him in our spare bedroom and provide his meals. Of course, she did not consult me. I worried about the added expense for food and about the extra work for Mrs. Fogg. Of course, I did not object and I began planning to draw on our savings to meet the costs of buying more food and of a small bonus to placate Mrs. Fogg. The pastor was with us for nine months of his school year. He arrived in town every Friday and stayed until late Sunday afternoon. Occasionally for reasons of weather (or for other reasons that I am about to relate) he stayed until dawn on Monday morning. Mrs. Fogg, with her pay augmented, only grumbled a little bit about the added work. Gran enjoyed her new higher status in the church as the provider for the minister. I was intrigued with the possibilities suggested by having a man staying in the bedroom next to mine. He was young and affected an earnest and serious mein. Something about him suggested that he was not very pious but he made up for it by his seriousness and his black suit and dark neckties. He was quite handsome if you looked deeply and I did. As soon as he arrived, the mothers of all the unwed girls a bit younger than me were atwitter about him and the possibilities he posed for their daughters. Some of the daughters were interested, too. Others were more skeptical and only seemed to see his black suit and studied pose of piety. I do not believe that Gran ever entertained the possibility that I would be with him. Of course, he was inundated with invitations to dinner by the mothers. I was amazed and amused by the stratagems he used to escape most of them. In the first place, he pleaded that his Saturday evenings were reserved for the final revisions for his sermon for the next morning. Sunday afternoons were committed to visiting the sick and elderly who had not been able to attend the service. That only left Friday evenings and some of the invitations were unavoidable. Still, he seemed to prefer to dine at our place and to talk about the town and the church with Gran and me. It was a challenge to get him to respond to me on a physical level. Sometimes I put my hand on his as I was making a point in our discussion but he didn't seem to react. He never pulled away but he didn't seem to respond, either. I clearly was not repelling him but I wasn't drawing him closer, either. I was perplexed. I thought long and hard about how to attract him. Finally in late October I formulated a plan and put it into action. He had bathed and was in his bedroom reviewing his sermon for the next day. Now I made my way to the bathroom slowly and carefully without my braces. Settling on the high stool in front of the lavatory I shed my robe and sat naked in front of the mirror. I admired the reflection of my body. My legs were out of range of the mirror. I imagined what we would do if my plan succeeded. I filled the lavatory and began to sponge myself. I liked the high stool and preferred to avoid the precarious gymnastics that using the tub required. Washed and with my hair combed and tied back with a ribbon, I applied just a bit of the cologne that I had bought in the city. It had the scent of apple blossoms. I closed my robe and tied its sash. Then I untied it again and loosened it. I retied it with a firm knot but left a degree of looseness in the sash. I looked in the mirror again and made the final decision to proceed with my plan. I lifted myself from the stool with my crutches and steadied my right knee to support me. I made my way slowly and carefully into the hallway and to the railing of the stairwell. The moon was full and its light through the bay window of the hall bathed everything in its pale light. I could see the brighter light that came from under his closed door. I leaned my crutches on the rail and supported myself by grasping it. Then, I carefully lowered myself to the floor. Once there, I arranged my legs and my robe. Then I took my crutches from the rail and tumbled them onto the floor to make a sharp noise. At the same time I uttered a cry loud enough, I hoped, to get his attention. He came from his room to find me on the floor. He wore powder blue pajamas "I've fallen," I said, trying to put a plaintive quaver in my voice. I let my eyes beseechingly meet his for a moment. He looked as if he didn't know what to do next. I let my gaze fall to the floor and said, "You'll need to help me. But let me catch my breath first." "What can I do?" he asked with a quaver in his voice that sounded real. I did not meet his eyes. I sensed his attention to my loosely tied robe. I turned a little to let the moonlight fall on the exposed skin between my breasts. I sat quietly for a long moment. Finally I broke the silence. "Please put your hands under my arms and lift me," I told him. He complied and I was surprised at his strength. I came upright and put one hand on the rail for support. "Please hold me until I get my leg steady under me," I asked. Then I lingered a bit to let the moment last. His hands were next to my breasts and I could sense that he was excited by touching me. I could also sense some reluctance. I told him that he could let go and then retrieve my crutches. He handed me one of them and I tucked it under my right arm. As he handed me the other, I didn't take it. "No," I said, "Let me lean on you. I'm really afraid of falling again." I slipped my left arm under his right and reached up to grasp his shoulder. That left him no choice but to put his right arm around my waist. My body clung close to his as he held my unused crutch in his free hand. I took a tentative step. Then, linked together, we slowly made our way to my bedroom door. I did not hurry as I reveled in the contact of our bodies separated by only a few layers of fabric. I longed for the fabric to be gone. At the door, we discovered that it was not wide enough to accommodate both of us head on. After a bit of fumbling and giggling, I went in sort of sideways and he followed, close as ever. Of course the giggling was mostly mine as he was obviously still conflicted. Then it was only a few short steps to my bed. The white coverlet glowed with the light of the harvest moon. I still held to him as I said, "Help me sit down." Awkwardly I swivelled around as he followed. I put all my weight on my crutch and his shoulder, and flexed my knee. Than I abruptly sat and, still clinging, drew him down with me. He attempted to untangle himself but I resisted. "No, please," I said, "Stay with me for a while. I'm still shaken up from falling. You make me feel safe." He stopped trying to escape but said, "It's not appropriate for a man to be in a woman's bedroom." "That's the rule for most people," I told him, "But, surely, it doesn't hold for cripples." "It most assuredly does," he replied, "Or at least it should." His manner was stiff, but I felt him relax a bit. After a few moments of savoring his closeness, I reached down to lift my legs. With the same motion I lay down and pulled him with me. He was no longer reluctant. Now my robe had fallen even more open and my free hand untied the knot in the sash. Through his pajamas I felt his arousal and responded with the heightening of my own I pulled him to me and kissed him. His response was nervous, even frantic. In a moment he was inside me and pumping with the same frantic energy. He climaxed quickly with a still frantic groan but we continued to cling to each other for a long time. We said nothing and even pretended to sleep. A half hour must have passed when I drew his mouth to mine and kissed him gently. "Thank you," I told him. "Now you should go to bed. You have to preach in the morning. We'll talk tomorrow." I kissed him again and then he drew himself away and closed my door behind him. I lay awake for a long time. I finally slept when the moon had moved on and the room was dark. V. Growing Together He was out of the house especially early the next morning and I did not see him until the church service began. I was tired, of course, but he looked as if he had not slept at all. He went through the familiar ritual by rote until he came to the sermon. He preached about sin and temptation. The major thrust of it seemed to be that one should not succumb but that we were all miserable sinners anyway. He was not organized. He rambled and repeated himself. The whole congregation seemed to be squirming in their seats. Even old Deacon Grimsby, usually very keen about sin and long sermons, could be seen surreptitiously consulting his old-fashioned pocket watch. Eventually he stopped. As we sang the closing hymn, I felt sorry for him. I knew that the whole disorganized sermon was my fault. If sin was involved, it had been mine. However, I could not convince myself that it was really sin. Perhaps I was beyond redemption.I didn't know. I didn't mind. I did not see him again until late that afternoon. He came back to the house after he had made his pastoral rounds. He collected his things for the trip back to the seminary. Our eyes met often but we said nothing while Gran bustled about packing him a sandwich for the journey. We were alone together for a brief moment before he went through the front door. He finally spoke. "I'm sorry," he told me, "I'm so sorry." "Don't be silly," I answered, "You have nothing to be sorry about. If anyone should be sorry, it's me. I shamelessly seduced you." I gently touched his hand with mine. "And I'm not sorry a bit." As Gran returned, I only had time to say, "We'll talk when you come next week." Then he was on his way. Of course, I thought of little else in the following days. I admitted to myself that as a sexual encounter it had not been really satisfactory. He had climaxed almost instantly and I had no orgasm at all. But the bright side was that I had actually had a lover, a real one and not the old and vague imaginary one. The image and feel and scent of him filled my nightly explorations of myself. I knew I could help him find the parts of me that I thrilled to and that I could explore his body, too. The following Friday evening we all had a light supper and Gran was off to bed earlier than usual. He and I sat alone after the table had been cleared. I spoke first. "I'm glad to see you. I missed you." After a long pause he said in a kind of stuffy and pompous way, "We can't do that again." He didn't specify what he was referring to but we both understood. "Why," I asked. "It's just not right," he responded in a plaintive voice. "Why not. We are both adults and both single. I'm not cheating on another lover and I believe that you're not as well. Am I right?" I did not mean to sound querulous. "That's right," he said and paused. "I worry about pregnancy. Don't you?" "Of course," I told him in a softer voice. "I used a diaphragm. I got it just a short time after I met you," I lied. "I hoped we would get to use it." He seemed to melt in front of my eyes. He was clearly relieved. "Now please come here and kiss me," I said primly. We were in his bed until the first light of dawn when he helped me walk back to my room. Of course I could have done it without assistance but it seemed to recapture the magic of our first night together. After that we fell into a routine of sorts. We spent Friday night in my bed or his. Usually we slept alone on Saturdays so he could prepare for the next day. Once in a while he stayed over on Sunday evening and left before dawn the next day. I don't think that Gran ever suspected what was going on in her house. I still wonder what her reaction would have been. As lovers, we grew together. By subtle reactions and by direct requests I taught him about my body. I learned about his body too, mostly from his reactions as he seemed unable to articulate his needs directly. Soon we seemed to fit perfectly together and to work like a seamless whole. I have especially vivid memories of some of our love making. There was a night in winter. There was cold rain and a gusty wind. We sat with Gran by the fireplace until late in the evening. She stayed up unusually late and was regaling us with old stories about doings in our town. She even had tales that I had never heard before about some youthful indiscretions of Deacon Grimsby. He encouraged her to talk on and on. I was impatient to be with him alone. My diaphragm had been in for hours in anticipation of his arrival. He had not come the week before because he had attended a regional church meeting. Moreover, it was the time of the full moon. I had learned that my body followed the lunar cycle. Of course, the moon didn't shine through the storm but my body was acutely aware that it was there. As Gran talked on, I watched the colors of the moon in the crackling fire. It aroused me further until I could barely make out Gran's words. I didn't learn the word "horny" until some years later. Of course it is vulgar and I would never use it in speaking. But it might convey my state to the reader. I was consumed by simple lust. At last Gran excused herself and headed to her room. Neither of us spoke as she left. She was hardly out of sight up the stairs when I put my hands on the edge of my chair and lowered myself to the floor. I slid myself closer to him and to the fire. As soon as the sound of the closing door came from upstairs I looked directly at him and said simply, "Come here. I need you, now." At the same time I pulled my dress up as high as I could. Then he was on his knees with his trousers open. He lifted me by the buttocks and without shame I pulled my dress even higher. He lowered my panties to the upper cuffs of my braces and was in me. His finger played around my anus. It was a trick we had discovered together and it always drove my passion to delirious heights. The moon colors of the firelight played on the walls. The sight of my braced legs lifted and splayed transformed into an image of the gynecologists stirrups. Then without warning his finger was in my rectum and I was filled and fulfilled and violated and safe and in danger all at the same time. Then I was pushing and accepting, rebelling and submitting. There was a shout. I vaguely wondered whether Gran's hearing aid was off. Then I was lost to pure carnal lust. It was my first vaginal orgasm. We slept until late the next morning. By the time we awakened, Gran was busy dusting and tending the plants in the hallway outside my room. We waited what seemed an endlessly long time for her to finish and to go downstairs. All the time, we struggled to muffle our giggles. We were like naughty children. At last I went to the hall to distract Gran so that he could escape unnoticed from my room to his. We went on like this for the next several months. Once in a while he had hinted at marriage but I always shut him off. I made clear several times that I was not interested in marriage to anyone. Although I didn't tell him, I was especially uninterested being a minister's wife with an unending routine of rummage sales, women's groups and church suppers. He soon accepted what I said and we settled into a routine of lovers' trysts. Once in a while we broke our Saturday night rule. It didn't seem to make much difference in his sermons. But it certainly seemed to make a difference once. It was in late Spring shortly before his internship ended and just a few weeks before the picnic pictured in my album. It was the first really pleasant evening of the season. The air was warm and the breeze was still. The peep frogs from the nearby pond sang to the night. Of course, the moon was full. We watched it as we lingered together on the swing that hung from the rafters of the back porch. Gran had retired early. Inevitably, we began to kiss and pet. He had sensed my weakness (or was it strength?) for the moon and liked to enjoy it. Saturday night or not, I did not want to stop. With my left leg sprawled across his lap, he removed the brace and shoe. He had learned all the nuances of straps, buckles and fasteners. It was a very special kind of intimacy which never failed to arouse me. He stroked the place I had showed him inside my thigh. For a while I had thought that perhaps my withered leg had the same number of nerve endings as a normal one but distributed more densely on the smaller surface. I soon decided that was absurd. It was the easy intimacy of being accepted for the way I am that was so erotic. I felt an orgasm approaching but it waned as the moon moved slowly out of sight above the roof of the porch. I gently pushed his hand away and kissed him. "Be a dear and get my diaphragm from my nightstand." I didn't need to mention the jelly, he knew the routine. He complied without comment and as he got up to go I added, "And bring the big blanket from the shelf in my closet." While he was gone, I removed my remaining brace and shoe. Then as quickly as I could, I slipped out of my clothes. He returned with his arms full with the large blanket. The flat pink case of the diaphragm was clutched in one hand. I couldn't see the tube of jelly but I knew it was there. He started with surprise when he found me naked. Then a sly smile began to spread across his face. "Spread the blanket under the apple tree behind the shed," I ordered him. "We should be able to see the moon from there." Again he complied without comment. As he turned to go, I added, "Don't forget to come back for me. You know how much I am afraid of being abandoned." He was back in a moment and standing by me as if he did not know what to do next. "You'll have to carry me," I told him, "I can't possibly walk over that rough ground." He lifted me from the swing and I clung to him as he took me down the steps. Over his shoulder I saw my cluttered pile of braces, crutches and clothes. Under the blossoming apple tree, the moon shone brightly. He laid me naked on the outspread blanket and stood their watching me. "You have the advantage of me, sir," I said primly. "If you disrobe, we will be equals in this encounter." Slowly and deliberately he began to take off his clothes and drop each item on the blanket. I watched his naked skin reflecting the moonlight. Finally, completely nude, he was like a young and shining god. Memories & Moonlight He knelt by me. The diaphragm had completely escaped my attention. But he retrieved it from somewhere in the folds of the blanket. I watched him as he opened the case and unscrewed the cap of the jelly. He had mastered the ritual of the diaphragm. I watched still as he spread the jelly on the rim and skillfully folded it. I half closed my eyes as he carefully inserted it and let it find its proper place. He let his fingers linger inside me and did a gentle massage in the places I had showed him. With eyes half open, I saw the moon shining over his shoulder. I inhaled the scent of apple blossoms and the musty odor of damp earth and decaying leaves. He entered me and obscured the moon with his shoulder. Then as he began to move slowly in and out the moon began to reappear then disappear again. The music of the frogs merged with my soul through my ears. My arms reached beyond the bounds of the blanket and my hands joined the earth, grasping the wet soil and last year's musty leaves. He relentlessly came in and then out. The moon came and went. I invited the moon to enter me and it came and retreated with his rhythm. I arched my back and dug my fingers into the earth as I shouted my ecstasy to the sky. The moon entered me and stayed. I heard his shout, too. Then we were still, tangled in one another, him and me and the moon. I felt filled with the moon as if my belly were rounded. A pale yellow glow seemed to light me from inside. I can't say how long we lay there. Eventually the breeze grew stronger and cooler and we stirred. "Carry my things to my bedroom, please, and then come back for me," I asked him. He donned a minimum amount of his own clothing and his shoes and left without a word. I watched as he gathered up my clothes with his own and grasped braces and crutches to make an unlikely, even comic, burden. Then he disappeared into the house as the screen door closed itself behind him. Then I lay naked under the moon. My old panic about being helpless and abandoned began to build in me. What if he didn't return, I wondered. He could fall and break his leg on the stairs and be unable to come for me. My mind was washed with a torrent of awful possibilities. But as abruptly as my panic came, it ebbed away. I laughed aloud. Even if I could never move again, I could lie here for all eternity and be the mistress of the moon. Of course, he was back in short order. He wrapped the blanket around me and I was in his arms. He carried me to the porch and then inside and up the stairs. Finally he laid me gently on my bed. We were together for the whole night. I worried about his duties in the morning but he seemed unperturbed. I also worried about the debris we had brought in with the blanked. There were little clods of dirt, old leaves and apple blossom petals. They all fell out when I unwrapped myself and littered the bed and the floor. I resolved to do a thorough cleaning in the morning. Gradually the moon inside me lulled me to sleep. He was gone when I awakened in the morning. I set myself to clean up all the mess we had carried in the night before. I thought I had done a fairly thorough job but it later turned out that I hadn't. I also had to invest an unusual amount of time on my hands and my nails to undo the effects of groveling in the earth. In consequence, Gran and I were almost late to church. He seemed unusually youthful and relaxed in the pulpit. His sermon was short and coherent and quite out of the ordinary. It did not seem to be particularly biblically based. His theme was that the universe and all creation is a priceless gift to us to be enjoyed and appreciated. Old Deacon Grimsby seemed to be perplexed by it. I laughed inside at the look of him before I returned my eyes to the pulpit. I blushed when he began to recite examples of the great gift we had been granted. He talked about apple blossoms and the new smell of the earth in the Spring. Of course he referred to the singing of the frogs. When he came to the gift of the full moon, he turned his eyes directly at me. Our gazes locked. With a great effort, I tore my eyes away when I felt my panties dampen. I shut my ears and applied myself to multiplying the page numbers of the open hymnal in my lap. Thus, distracted, I survived the rest of the service. He stayed the night that Sunday. Mrs. Fogg discovered the detritus of our adventure. We had left a little trail of soil, blossom and leaf through the whole house. She complained bitterly and blamed him. She couldn't understand, she kept telling us, why the silly minister had to prepare his sermons out under the tree and in the mud and then track it all in the house. I bit my tongue. Gran didn't seem to notice. Mrs. Fogg's objections came to a head a few days later when she decided to refold the blanket in my closet. I watched in horror as more of the telltale dirt, blossom and leaf fell to the floor. She turned to me and stared I met her gaze. I tried to look calm and collected with a touch of defiance. She was expressionless. Then she abruptly took her eyes away and busied herself with cleaning. She never mentioned the subject again. Dear Mrs. Fogg; she and I were kindred souls, I think. We had both tasted life. I wondered what she thought and felt when the moon was full. Of course, she never said and I never asked. VI. Life Goes On His internship ended a few weeks later and we never met again. We corresponded once in a while and exchanged cards on holidays. Gradually our contact tapered off to nothing. I heard from friends that he had married. I was not jealous - I was even glad for her. She was with a good man. Later I heard that he had left the ministry and was teaching in a private school. I worried a bit that I had destroyed his faith. No, I finally decided, perhaps I had moved him to a deeper and more sustaining faith. Gran died peacefully in her sleep a few years later. Our church was without a pastor so it fell to Deacon Grimsby to do the eulogy. Of course he assured us of life everlasting and all that. But he also told stories about Gran in her youth and his that I had never her heard before. I had never imagined that the old Deacon had ever been ever young. I certainly never thought that there was any humor in him. We cried and we laughed. Even Mrs. Fogg smiled a bit and seemed to have tears in her eyes. At first, I missed Gran terribly. In ways I still do after all these years. But over the next few months I plotted the course of the rest of my life. I surprised everyone in town when I sold the house. They were even more surprised when they learned the price that the buyers from out of town had paid. The city was expanding and our town was in the first stages of becoming a desirable suburb. I moved to the city and found an apartment that was easy to care for in a building with an elevator and very few steps to cope with. I found part time work in a nearby bookstore and applied some of my high school accounting skills to doing the books for a few small businesses. I volunteered at the local branch library. I invested most of the house money and my portfolio prospered. I have never been promiscuous but I have never been long without a lover. My jobs and my volunteer efforts brought me into contact with many men. I have never been shy about practicing the arts of seduction. Lovers are fairly easy to find. Some of mine have been very good at it and have taught me. Some of the others I have taught myself. I do not regret even one of them. VII. Back to the Present My reverie was interrupted by a soft knock on my door. I came back to the present and quickly put the photo album back on the shelf with my writing pad beside it. It was dark outside and the full moon had risen. I looked down to arrange myself for him. My robe was open. I wore a scanty bra. At least it was as scanty as I could find with an underwire. The bra was a concession to the passage of time and to the effects of gravity. I wore panties that matched. They were a concession to the simple fact that an old woman in a bra without panties would appear to any thinking person as a pathetic figure of jest. I closed my robe and tied the sash with the trick that I discovered all those years ago. The knot was firm but the sash was loose. I turned out the light. As I wheeled my chair to the door, the knock came again. It was more insistent this time. A little shudder of anticipation moved through my body as I rolled through a patch of moonlight and reached for the latch.