0 comments/ 10979 views/ 0 favorites Terminal By: ange_sombre520 Since my boyfriend and I live in different countries (he being in the UK and myself living in the States) and lead very busy lives, we don’t get to see each other very often other than online, so it is hard to have a regular, non-a-sexual relationship. The frustration is like no other, but in the end, it all pays off. Oddly enough, whenever we plan to get together, something always comes up to ruin our chances of sexual and emotional healing. This time we were fortunate, and I got to see my lover. I have just finished a five- week summer course for school, and on my way to the airport to pick up my lover and confidant of two years. While driving down the toll way towards the city, I realize that I am just as petrified as I am sopping wet. My pussy is drooling so badly that I think I've created a stain in my skirt!! I can smell my own scent, which intoxicates me and makes me wetter (and my nipples harder) as I accelerate to meet the switch for the airport. I hit a bump on the ramp, and my 36D tits bounce lightly (I’m not wearing a bra, so my nipples are easily seen through the think fabric of my t-shirt). While scanning for a spot, stress wins the battle against ration, and I can't find a place to park my car in the international terminal lot... NOTHING IS CLOSE ENOUGH!!! I try to settle down a bit, and I find a somewhat formidable space. I get out, lock the car, and I remember how turned on I am when I am reminded that I can't walk properly. I walk through the sliding doors into the somewhat empty terminal and I look to see if his flight is on time.... it is delayed by 15 minutes, so I sit down and open up "The Deviancy Code", crossing my legs so that I'm a bit less "noticeable". A half an hour later, I peek up to see if anyone is coming out of the doors... They open, and among the masses I can see my Andrew looking for me above all the other heads. God, he looks even more amazing than the day I first met him. Andrew is tall, about 5’9’’ with a medium build and dirty blonde hair. His eyes are a piercing, ice blue, and they make me melt whenever I look into them. I shout his name and I race like a madwoman towards him. He looks confused for a moment, and in that instant I take Andy by surprise and I tackle him with full force. Bags go flying everywhere, and I kiss him deeply as I sit on top of him. I whisper, "well hello lover" in his ear, and he replies with a hoarse but pleased "hello". I nibble his ear for a bit, licking at its contours, and then I lay another passionate kiss onto his lips. I get up, offering him my hand as I smile warmly, and he gratefully accepts. We move over to the waiting area, and I inquire him about the flight... how it was, did he sleep at all, etc. Once he sits down and drops his bags, I don’t give And a chance to relax. I jump on top of him, kissing him passionately, making up for all the kisses that we have not had. I whisper that I've wanted to fuck him for so long, that I'm so horny I could just fuck right there in the terminal... In a silent moment frozen in time, I look at him, seeing how beautiful he is, and knowing that he has a plan. After a short pause, he looks at me with a fire in his eyes, and he nonchalantly replies, "well, love, why don't we?". I can feel a devilish grin spreading across my face as I straddle him. My skirt rides up a bit higher to almost reveal my bare, trimmed, cunt, drooling in all its glory. My nipples ache as they press against his chest…I want him so badly. I purr as I bite his ear again, hearing him moan softly. I whisper in his ear, "Fuck I love you to pieces… fuck me baby.” I splay my legs even wider on the chairs on either side of us, and my pussy is now fully exposed and sitting right on top of his lap, making my mark with the scent of my hot juices. I feel his hot cock pressing against my sweet, naked, pussy through the thin material in his pants. While looking straight into his eyes I single handedly reach to pull down his zipper and take that hot rod out in one swoop... with a bit of pleasure and shock, I discover that somebody decided to go commando as well as I reach in and find that there are no jockeys… Just cock and balls. "Mmmm good boy.", I say..." I've been waiting so long to shove this deep inside of me. I'm sure you've been wanting the same." Andrew nods light headedly, and I move in to kiss him. I sit down on top of him, making sure that there are no rent-a-cops around, and I slowly begin to ride my lover as we kiss. He kisses me down my neck as he plays with my tits beneath my shirt, pinching and squeezing my nipples. God he makes me so hot!!!! I ride him a bit harder, squeezing his veiny eight by four-inch monster with my tight cunt. He nibbles at my ear, driving me even closer to my climax. I ride him more slowly again, making the moment last. I whisper in his ear how much I love him, that he’s my only, and I'm his. I glance over to see a guy a bit older than myself, and I can see that he's hard as a rock by just staring at us. I stare whorishly back at him. I blow him a kiss, smile, and turn back to my lover. I look down to him to see how beautiful and sexy he is. He glows with a godly aura as I ride him, and I know that I’m in the presence of a deity. I come back down to kiss him, and our hands join together as we continue to fuck. By now I'm so close, so hot with ecstasy. I’m at my boiling point and I’m about ready to erupt! Andrew bites at my neck as I squeeze him tighter and I let out a low moan. He grabs onto my ass as we fuck, forcing me down on top of him. I ride him harder, hearing his breath quickening and becoming deeper. I tell him that I'm almost there, and he weakly nods as if to say, "me too”. To make sure my moans don't echo through out the terminal, I bite down on his shoulder, sending us both into overdrive. I bounce up and down his pole at lighting speed as we cum together, his cock spasming in my hot hole. We go limp and rest a few minutes before he exits me completely. Andrew zips up & stands and we take his bags out to where I parked. When I put up the hatch, we begin to load the car.... As we load, I can still feel both of our juices slowly dripping down my thighs. Before I know it, I feel something else running up and down my thigh…something wet and slippery and sensational… I look down, and to my surprise, And’s lapping up every single drop!! I gasp as the sensation of his wet tongue sliding up and down my spread legs and lightly over my pussy lips. He stands up, mouth full, and he kisses me, making me even hotter. Our juices taste so good together as we share them in a deep, passionate, kiss. I swallow my portion, lapping up some excess dripping down his chin. When all bags are in, I sit down on the edge, exposing my hot, wet, bare, bugling pussy to him and the world around us... I don't know what has gotten into me, but I love it.... I’m so fuckin horny at this point I don’t care if I get arrested!! Pulling off my shirt and with my legs spread wide, I ask him, "Want to go again stud?” Wide-eyed and grinning, He says "Fucking God YEA!!!!!” I demand for him to get down and eat my cunt. With fire, desire, excitement, and elation in his eyes, Andy replies, “ With pleasure, Jo". He kneels down to get a better look at my sopping girl, sniffing my erotic scent. Tenderly, he laps up all the excess juices off of my lips and thighs, making me moan softly as I rub my hands through his dirty blonde hair. He kisses around my area, teasing me till I beg him to please eat out my hot, wet pussy. He softly brushes his thumb back and forth across my clit for a while, making me sigh with deep, intense pleasure. He replaces his thumb with his tongue, rolling it slowly and lightly around my bulging clit... He drags two fingers up and down my soaking crack, teasing my horny hole, making me want even more. My juices run down to my ass crack, and I can feel your fingers slowly circling my tiny, puckered hole as you tongue my clit.... At the same time, I don't want it as much as I do... "MMMMM Andy, play with my ass like the little whore that I am... ooooooooooh god baby!!! Please... suck me". I hear a little, muffled giggle from down below, and before I know it, he’s running his tongue up and down my soaking crack, driving me even closer into overdrive. With my arms tied loosely around his neck, I roll my head back and moan softly. I can feel his tongue slowly slithering in soft circles into my boiling pussy. I love it when he eats me out. he makes me feel so good. I look back up to enjoy the view of him sucking me off, but he stops! I yell, "WHY THE FUCK DID YOU ST--", before I get to finish my sentence, he winks at me with juices dripping down his chin, and he jams your tongue in to my hot, wet cunt. My ‘STOP’ is replaced with a loud moan as he begins to dart his tongue quickly in and out of me, frenching my hot pussy. As he eats me out, he plays with and grabs my tits, slowly massaging and tweaking my nipples. Andrew greedily laps up my juices, not leaving a drop to be spared... He stops again, making me groan, this time standing up and ripping down his pants and exposing his huge hard on. He looks at me and says, "Get on all fours bitch!!" I obey with pleasure, and with the hatch still up, I can feel him positioning behind me. I look out to see our surroundings, and I realize that our profiles are both in plain view for everyone to see… that makes me so much hotter. I feel him enter me with full force, not even trying to be gentle. He pumps in and out of me like a piston, so hard and fast!!! He hollers, "Beg for it bitch, LOUD! I WANT THE WHOLE FUCKING WORLD TO KNOW!”. I scream his name, telling him what a great fuck he is and how much I want him to fuck me harder. I cum again, and again and again losing track of how many I've had. My moans are so loud that anyone could hear me cumming from a mile away, and his hands are gripping my hips so tightly that it hurts. I peek over my shoulder only to find him to be in pure ecstasy, fucking me like an animal. It hurts so much, but it feels so fucking good! I don't want it to end. In one swoop and still inside, Andrew flips me over in one motion without stopping, raising my legs up on his shoulders. He looks so hot and sexy right as he announces that he is going to cum. At that moment, we both shudder in pure ecstasy, me vibrating like no other. When it's over, Andy collapses on top of me, and we lay against the suitcases as one. He kisses me on the cheek and says, "I love you". Weakly I reply, "I love you too", and I wink. After a half hour's rest, we straighten up a bit and close the hatch, leaving our mess to itself. We hop in the car, and drive off towards his hotel in the city. As I accelerate to merge onto the toll way, I smile to myself as I feel his hand creeping up my skirt again. THE END Terminal She was an island on the outer banks and I was a night shift at a twenty four hour deli. She wore the sun and beach in a deep tan beneath her dark flowing hair, I was a pale white beneath a neon beer sign, flashing on and off, on and off. It was an impossible thought that we could ever meet, ever even think of a distant future where we might be in the same place and yet, I sat in the airport and watched with rapt attention as she swayed gracefully from the check-in counter to the seat next to me. Glancing at me, she smiled, sat down and then took a long sip from a fancy water bottle. I watched the droplets roll over the image of a blackberry on the bottle and then down onto her fingers. Not sure what else to do, I grabbed the warm bottle of some stale ale I had been nursing over the last hour, grabbed a sip and then did my best to suppress a burp. Fortunately she either didn't hear me or politely ignored it as she slipped the cap back on her bottle, placed it on the floor beside her bag and then crossed her smooth, dark legs. As she leaned forward to grab a book from her bag her blouse billowed a bit giving me a peek at her lace bra and with the slightest hint of the gems hidden beneath. Sitting back up in her seat she placed the book on her lap but didn't open it. "Are you on this flight, Delta 227?" "Yes, to Atlanta," I replied, my voice cracking, adding a fourth syllable to "At lan an ta." "At the counter, they said it was delayed," she continued in an accent I couldn't quite place, Russian, maybe. "I'll be late, too late for my next flight. I do not want to be stuck in Atlanta." "Could be worse, you could get stuck here," I replied. "No, no, here is not worse, at least you speak American here, down there I just don't know what they are saying. I mean, 'Yawl' what does that mean, and 'grits,'" she drew out the ending emphasizing the zzzzz sound. "What is grits anyway?" "Well, it's kind of like a hot cereal, like oatmeal, except they put butter on it, not sugar," I said recalling some breakfast in Georgia years ago. "It is a silly food, no?" I shrugged my shoulders, "Well, a bit odd I suppose." "And now I have to wait an extra four hours here, then to fly to Atlanta and eat grits. No, no. Listen, will you walk with me?" "Where?" "Just around the airport here, down there," she nodded down the terminal. "I am just annoyed and need to walk. Will you come with me?" It was the best invitation I'd received in years so I nodded, stood up and reached my hand out to her. She reached up and touched my hand with her marvelously soft, delicate fingers. I gently helped her up and we began our stroll down toward an empty end of the terminal, each of us rolling our bags behind us. "Is this better?" I asked. "Better?" "You were annoyed, I just wondered if this helped>" "Oh yes, yes. Please forgive me, I get so, how you say flus..." "Flustered?" "Yes, flustered. I get so flustered with schedules and things. I don't like to miss flights, but here walking... is quiet and I feel better." We had passed about a dozen gates or so and there was no one anywhere near us. Up ahead there were only a couple more gates and a small area taped off where it looked as if they were putting in a small café or something. I figured we'd perhaps pause at the end of the terminal and then walk slowly back to our seats in the waiting area near our gate but instead she headed over to the construction area. "What is this here?" she asked. "Looks like they are putting in a restaurant or shop," I replied. "Look they left it opened," she whispered, ducking under the tape barricade and then slipping between an opening in the plastic sheeting that enveloped the construction area. Quickly following her I said, "I don't think we are supposed to be here." "You don't think so?" she replied, turning and stepping toward me. "You want to leave," she said seductively, running her hand down my arm. "Well, we really..." her lips touched mine as she prevented me from continuing. As we kissed her hand ran down my side and over my thigh. As we broke apart from our kiss I gasped, "I think we can stay a while." She kneeled before me, reached up and unzipped my zipper. I quickly unfastened my belt and stood there while she unhooked my pants, letting them fall to the floor. She then worked my jockey shorts over my erection and pulled them down to my ankles. Reaching up she cupped my balls with one hand and wrapped her fingers around my erection with the other. Sliding her hand up and down my shaft, she waited until a glistening drop of pre-cum formed in the tiny hole. She then leaned forward, touched her tongue to the droplet and backed away, leaving a strand of fluid dangling between the tip of her tongue and my cock. When the stand broke she smiled and said, "Oh, I love that." Suddenly my cock disappeared into her mouth as she quickly began sucking hard as her head moved back and forth over me. She worked her hand in unison with the movements of her mouth so it felt as if she was taking all of me between her lips. It had been a long time since I'd been with a woman, and I had never been with one who could make my cock feel as this woman was. I had hoped to hold off for a while, perhaps do something for her but as I tried to back away, she reached behind me, grabbed my ass and pulled me back to her. All I could do is stand there and watch as my cock slipped in and out of her mouth, feeling each and every sensation of what she was doing to me. All too quickly I felt the pleasure build inside me and, reaching down and grasping her head, I pushed my hips forward and came, spurting my cum into her mouth again and again. She continued sucking, swallowing several times until the spurting subsided. When she finally pulled her head away there was a single drop of cum dangling from my cock. She reached out a finger, wiped the droplet from my cock, stood up and held her finger to my mouth. I opened my mouth and let her put her finger in, tasting the salty, bland taste of my cum. She then smiled and asked, "Well, how did you like it?" "It was fantastic," I replied, "I've never felt that way before." "So you like me?" I nodded. "Am I beautiful to you?" "You are gorgeous, so soft, absolutely beautiful." She guided my hands to her breasts and asked, "You like these? They are not large like American women." "No, I like them small," I said, sliding my hand down inside her blouse. I gently pinched her nipples as she backed up to a nearby counter. I continued toying with her breasts as she kicked off her shoes, reached up under her skirt and pulled down her pantyhose. "I am beautiful to you, a beautiful woman?" "Yes, so beautiful," I replied, unbuttoning her blouse and moving my mouth down to her breasts. I began sucking her right nipple while my fingers toyed with her left. She leaned back and lifted herself up onto the counter, opening her legs. Her skirt rumpled up in an odd way but I kept on kissing her breasts for a few more moments. It wasn't until I looked up at her face and slipped my hand down beneath her dress that I realized the significance of that rumpling in her skirt. As my fingers worked their way up her incredibly smooth thigh and prepared to dive into her wet pussy, they ran into something else. I paused for a moment and then found myself holding her balls in my hand. I looked at her face and she smiled meekly, whispering, "I am still beautiful, no?" She looked at me with such yearning, not just a sexual yearning, but more a need, a need for acceptance. I noticed tears forming in her eyes, her beautiful dark eyes, and I whispered, "Yes, so beautiful." I lifted her skirt and exposed her small cock. Even fully erect it was far smaller than any man I had seen, maybe four inches at most. I leaned down and slowly closed my mouth over it as my fingers gently kneaded her balls. Starting slow, trying to get used to the sensation of having a cock in my mouth, I ran my tongue around it, slowly moving my head back and forth. It was odd, feeling the head with my tongue, the texture of it compared to the sensitive underside of her cock. I could occasionally taste the bitter pre-cum as I continued, sucking harder as I moved my mouth up and down her small cock. Continuing to lightly massage her balls with one hand, I worked her shaft with two fingers of my hand. Several times I took all of her cock into my mouth but nearly gagged so instead, I concentrated on using my hand and mouth together, much like she did to me. As I continued sucking her, I glanced up and noticed her lightly brushing her palms over her nipples and I could hear her faintly whispering, "Suck my clit, yes, suck my clit." After a while she began to respond more. She had moved her hands from her breasts down to the counter and was lifting herself in unison with my mouth, pushing her "clit" up as I came down on her. She moaned once and then cried out, "Yes, yes, I'm coming." I wasn't fully prepared for the sudden spurt from her "clit" but after pulling back just for a moment, I was able to swallow the first spurt of fluid and then was able to take the rest of it. Her cum had a bit of a bitter salty taste, much different from the bland taste of my cum. Oddly it seemed appropriate that her cum would be so much "spicier" than mine. I held her cock in my mouth as it shrank, sucking all of her cum before easing away from her. She looked down and whispered, "Thank you." I stood up and gave her a long kiss. When we finished she glanced at her watch and then down at her bag. "We must go," she said with some urgency as she pulled up her pantyhose and straightened up. When I got my clothes fixed she grabbed my hand and started walking. I quickly grabbed my bag and walked with her back to our waiting area where I noticed she had left one of her two bags behind. "You forgot your bag," I said. "I'll go back and get..." "No, no, I'll go get it." "It's okay, I can..." Grabbing my arm firmly she pulled me to her and whispered to me, "You have some, how you say, sperm on you. Go into the toilet and clean up. I'll get the bag momentarily, we still have time." "But you were in such a hurry," I replied, confused. "You go clean up," she said, practically shoving me into the restroom. I went on in noticing her hurrying into the ladies room. I stepped into a stall and looked over my pants and felt my face but didn't find anything on me. I took a moment to urinate and then slipped out of the stall hearing the toilet automatically flush behind me. I then went to the sink and looking into the mirror I noticed a clear spot of fluid on my shirt but nothing else. I reached to grab a paper towel when I heard a loud "Whump" followed by some screams and the sound of shattered glass. I stepped out of the restroom and looked down the terminal. There were some flames, but mostly smoke, dust and debris from the construction area I had left just moments before going into the restroom. I glanced back to the women's restroom and saw a slender man with long, dark hair look directly at me. He then turned and quickly walked away. Looking down at my watch, I noted that, had our plane left on time we'd be getting ready to land in Atlanta. Or not. Terminal Case /*** The following is a work of fiction. Those who find similarity to any persons living or dead are really taking it way too seriously. The characters depicted are of adult age, even if they don't act like it. Though we're all adults here, certain elements may offend some readers: * graphic descriptions of sexual activity * sexual relations without consent * sexual relations between relatives * casual drug use ***/ Paige lugged her small suitcase out of the elevator. Her brother's apartment was number 23. It was just down the hall, but Paige had second thoughts right outside the door. She was going to be such a bother to Paul and his family. Maybe she should just go home? In her own cozy, little apartment she would have her books and her record albums and her art. And most of all she would not have to put up with well-meaning but pushy family. She wouldn't bother anyone and no one would bother her. On the other hand, she would also be two train rides and forty-five minutes from the clinic. After a session of radiation treatments, that trip was an eternity. "Oh, fuck me," Paige mumbled as she knocked at the door. She knew why she was here. But she didn't have to like it. "Paige!" her brother Paul filled the doorway. He had been quite the athlete as a young man - even going to Fordham on a football scholarship - and despite getting a little soft around the middle he still had the look of a linebacker. He gave her the condescending and compassionate look that Paige was getting a lot lately. "You should have called me from downstairs! I could have helped you with your bag." "I can still carry a fucking suitcase," Paige grumbled. She was getting tired of being treated like an invalid. After a scandalized look from Paul, Paige remembered who she was talking to. "I can still carry a gosh-darn suitcase," she amended. "I know," Paul admitted. "But you need to conserve your strength," he finished weakly. "I'll have to remember that," Paige rolled her eyes. "Oh, Paige! You poor, poor dear," Paul's chubby but sincere wife, Margaret swept into the room with the expected condescending and compassionate look on her chubby but sincere face. She wrapped Paige in a sincere embrace with her chubby, little arms. "I have been praying for you." "Oh, good," Paige said in a dry monotone. "That will help." "Yes," Margaret's expression became even more condescending. She held Paige's hand and patted it gently. "With the Lord's help we will beat that cancer. Just you wait." Paige just nodded and gave her sister a pained smile. She felt an overwhelming urge to die on the spot, just to prove the self-righteous little bitch wrong. If it was going to happen anyway, she might as well get a good retort out of it. "I'll just put your things in Lucy's room," Paul interjected. "Lucy's room?" Paige followed her brother down the hall. "What about the guest bedroom?" "Oh, I've been sleeping in there," Paul chuckled. To Paige, his laughter seemed forced. "It's my snoring! It keeps Margie up at night." "Oh, okay." Paige was suspicious of his story, but didn't want to press the issue. He and Margaret were probably just fighting and Paul was too embarrassed to admit it. He had always been quick to offer relationship advice over the years. The secret to a successful partnership was to put your faith in Jesus, he pointed out more than once. It was no surprise that signs of strain in his own marriage would be swept under the rug. She followed Paul into the first bedroom down the hall. It was a small room decorated with pink, frilly things and posters for bands Paige had never heard of. An oversized teddy bear sat at the end of the bed covered with glowing, pink spots from the sunlight filtering through the lacy, pink curtains. "But where is Lucy going to sleep?" "She's at bible camp," Paul said with clear pride. "Working as an assistant counselor. She'll be there the whole summer." "And when she comes back? What if..." Paige trailed off. She wasn't sure what she meant to say. What if I'm not dead by then? That would be a lovely pearl to drop into conversation. "You're welcome here for as long as you need," Paul put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I should have that snoring thing taken care of in a couple weeks, anyhow. Then the guest bedroom will be available again." "Right," Paige nodded. Or more likely he would buy his wife some sort of jewelry and she would let him in the bedroom again. Paige looked dubiously around her niece's pink bedroom. She hoped it would be soon. "And you know," Paul began in his I'm-just-trying-to-help voice. It was a voice that Paige knew well. It was inevitably used to say something that pissed her off. "Prayer really can make a difference." Was he really trying to start that old argument again? Paige was more than willing to let Paul and Margaret's mumbo-jumbo slide by with no more than a sarcastic remark. But apparently her brother had recently learned to understand sarcasm. It was more than could be said for his painfully earnest wife. Paige opened her mouth to unleash a profanity laden counter argument, but Paul quickly cut her off. "I know, I know! You don't accept divine intervention as a true force in our lives," he smiled the condescending smile of the faithful. "But sometimes when we speak to the Lord we are also speaking to ourselves. Think of it as ... the power of positive thinking." "Yeah," Paige admitted reluctantly. Paul did have a point. Her own oncologist had said much the same thing. Her state of mind could help her body fight the cancer. Or it could drag her down even faster. For Paige a positive attitude might literally be a matter of life and death. Of course, she wasn't going to give up that easily. "Maybe I should set up a shrine to the Buddha in here," she looked around thoughtfully. "And I could work on my mediation." "That isn't what I meant!" Paul exclaimed. He glared at his sister. Paige looked back sweetly and smiled. Paul quickly relented. He chuckled to himself and smiled - a true smile this time. "Ok, you win. Just meditate on happy thoughts, ok?" "Oh, sure. You know me. Nothing but sunshine and rainbows and extra-aged tequila." Paige had hoped for another shocked look from Paul, but he had made a quick exit. She was left alone to get settled into her temporary home. As it turned out, Lucy's bed was quite comfortable once Paige evicted the giant teddy bear and pushed aside several ruffled, pink pillows. Not that Paige slept well that night. Instead she lay under the pink comforter and stared at the ceiling. Thoughts rushed through her mind like hurried commuters flowing over a subway platform. Each one barely landing in her consciousness before it was pushed aside by the next. Should she sign a new lease on her apartment? How long was her savings going to last? Did she own anything valuable that she could sell? What was going on with Paul and Margaret? What do you do at a bible camp for an entire summer? Was this thing growing in her head really going to kill her? "Fuck this," Paige mumbled to herself and tossed aside the covers. She clicked the light on the bedside table. Paige ran her fingers through her short, blonde hair and looked around the room. There were some books on a shelf in the corner, so she shuffled over to investigate. Paige loved books, but she thought she was the only one in the family who ever read for recreation. Growing up, the only books in their house were a few cookbooks in the kitchen, a few dusty Readers' Digest Condensed Books on a shelf, and - of course - the family bible. She couldn't remember her father ever opening a single one. Not even the bible - he seemed to know what was inside without needing to actually read it. When she was a teenager, both Paul and their father would tease her about life passing her by while she had her nose stuck in some book. Of course, Paige was experiencing life plenty in those days. In the back seat of her boyfriend's Firebird, for instance. That, she knew, wasn't what they had in mind. No, if her father had any idea he would have had a coronary. Paul probably would have had a coronary, too. So when Paige checked out her niece's bookshelf, she wasn't expecting much. She thought there might be a Bible and possibly a bible study guide or two - something along the lines of How to Get the Most from Your Bible or maybe How to Work Bible Quotes into Everyday Conversation. She wasn't expecting anything remotely interesting, but beggars cannot be choosers. Besides, it might be good for a laugh. Instead Paige found several excellent novels. There was a bible, of course. Two actually: a King James Version and a New American. But there was also The Giver by Lois Lowry, My Sister's Keeper by Jodi Picoult, and even The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. "Oh, I love this one," Paige whispered when she came across Fingersmith by Sarah Waters. Little Lucy was full of surprises! Paige pulled the book off the shelf and leafed through the pages. It was a good thing for Lucy - and for Paige - that Margaret wasn't much of a reader either. "Your mom would totally freak if she knew what was in here." Paige curled up in Lucy's bed to read by the light of the tiny lamp on the night stand. Soon she had left her own troubles behind and was engrossed in diabolical schemes, heart breaking betrayal, and a passionate lesbian love affair. At around two o'clock in the morning Paige finally drifted off to sleep with the book still clutched in her fingers. The next morning Paige wandered into the kitchen, squinting against the light. Margaret was at the kitchen table watching some sort of news program on a tiny television on the counter and holding a steaming mug of coffee. "Morning," Paige mumbled. "Good morning, sleepy head," Margaret grinned and popped up out of her seat. "I thought the smell of a nice pot of coffee would get you up and around!" "Nah," Paige shook her head and grabbed a mug for herself from the rack by the sink. It said "World's Greatest Dad" but she expected Paul would be willing to share. "My sense of smell is fu- err- messed up. I can't smell a thing. Everything smells like lemons to me." "What? How strange! How did that happen?" Margaret filled Paige's mug with dark brown liquid. "Was it from snorting drugs?" "No! I don't snort drugs!" Paige snapped. "Who the fuck told you that?" "Oh, I just thought," Margaret shrugged, "what with you being an artist and all. Living down that way. With ... those people. They do that sort of thing down there, don't they?" "Shit, Margaret! Not everybody in Crown Heights is a drug addict, ok?" Paige took a deep breath and rubbed her temple with a free hand. "My sense of smell, you see, is affected by this tumor that's rearranging my frontal cortex. You know, my brain? Remember that?" "Oh!" Margaret replied with eyes wide. "I didn't know that! Goodness! You seem so tense. Are you in pain, dear?" "Not physically." Paige took a sip of her coffee. It was actually a pretty good cup of coffee. That was a good thing because Paige was not in a frame of mind to deal with bad coffee at that point. "Where's Paul, anyway?" "He went in to the office," Margaret said loudly and with exaggerated enunciation. "He has been gone for an hour and a half already." "Ok," Paige nodded. "You know, I can hear fine." "Oh, that is such a relief, isn't it?" Margaret patted Paige's hand and turned back to her television program. Paige spent the morning sipping her coffee and watching television with Margaret. They watched something that was apparently intended to be news. To Paige, it mostly resembled fear mongering, bigotry, and conspiracy theories about the government. "Isn't that terrible," Margaret would cluck with disapproval from time to time. "It really is," Paige would agree, "terrible." That was the extent of their conversation. When the time for Paige's appointment at the clinic came around, she excused herself and went into the pink bedroom to change clothes. On her way out, Paige saw Margaret standing quietly by the front door with a bulky purse hanging over her shoulder and a light jacket draped over her arm. "Going somewhere?" Paige asked as she passed. "I'm taking you to your appointment, of course." "Thanks, but I can make it on my own." "Oh, it's no trouble." Margaret followed Paige into the hallway and turned to lock the apartment door with a key produced from the recesses of her huge purse. "Don't you have," Paige frowned, "something else to do?" "Well, I'll have to get dinner ready for when Paul gets home," Margaret said helpfully, "but there will be plenty of time for that after your treatment." Paige sighed and resigned herself to walking to the clinic with Margaret. She hoped that the shorter woman could at least manage to avoid praying, preaching, or otherwise proselytizing for the three-block walk. Paige might be tempted to push her sister in front of a bus otherwise. The two women arrived at the clinic without committing murder, which Paige took as a good sign. Margaret settled into the waiting room seat and produced a pair of knitting needles and a great ball of green yarn the size of a soccer ball. Paige rolled her eyes and thumbed through a six-month old copy of Time magazine. Soon her name was called and Paige left Margaret behind. "Domestic partners are allowed to accompany you into the treatment room," the nurse pointed out as she led Paige down a plain hallway. "That's nice," Paige shrugged. "But I'm still single." "Oh? That isn't your partner?" "What? Fuck no!" Paige was taken aback. She didn't mind that the nurse thought she was homosexual. Paige had enjoyed more than a few same-sex relationships in the past. It wasn't her favorite but it wasn't something she was ashamed of either. No, she was insulted that the nurse had linked her with Margaret. "Don't you think I could attract a hotter woman than that?" "Oh, I don't know," the nurse giggled. "Looks aren't everything. She reminds me of my Mom. Not the most glamorous, but she really knew how to take care of the people she loved." "She reminds me of my mom, too. That's probably why my brother likes her so much," Paige followed the young nurse into a small room filled with strange equipment. It was Paige's least favorite room in the entire city. "It's also probably why I dislike her so much." Afterward, when Paige stumbled into the waiting room feeling like her head had been cut open and her brains scooped out, soaked in lighter fluid, and lit on fire Margaret was the first person she saw. The short, chubby woman tossed aside her knitting and rushed to Paige's side. "Oh, goodness, Paige!" she clucked. "You look awful!" "Thanks a lot," Paige slurred. "Oh, you poor, poor dear. Let's get you home." "Good fuckin idea," Paige mumbled. Her head seemed to weigh a hundred pounds and the room was gently turning on an unseen axis. She felt like she might throw up at any moment. On the walk home, she briefly considered stepping in front of a bus herself. It would at least be quicker than going in for regularly scheduled appointments to have her brains fried. The two women slowly shuffled down the sidewalk, which was thankfully empty at that time of the day. Paige had her arm over Margaret's shoulders. Margaret was happily shuffling along, supporting Paige with one arm and her vast purse in the other. "What do you do all day, anyway," Paige asked as they waited for a traffic light to change. "Oh, you know," Margaret said with a shrug. At least as much of a shrug as she could manage with Paige leaning on her. "Cook. Clean. I keep the place tidy and then I do a real deep clean every Friday. I like to do the grocery shopping on Wednesday. Monday is the day for laundry. I help out at our church on weekends. I keep busy." "Yeah, I guess," Paige said with a skeptical edge. Back at the apartment, Paige collapsed on Lucy's pink bed and slept for the rest of the afternoon. When she awoke, she was feeling - not quite good exactly - but at least human again. There were voices rattling down the hall, so she traced them back to the source. "... can't keep going on like this," Paul was saying with strain in his voice. "No. No, no, no," Margaret insisted petulantly. What were they talking about, Paige wondered. She considered hanging back in the hallway to listen to more of the conversation, but her empty stomach overruled her curiosity. "What's for dinner?" Paige called down the hall. "Oh, you're awake," Paul poked his head out of the kitchen. "How did it go today?" "Same as ever," Paige answered without much enthusiasm. No one said much that night at dinner. Likewise, after dinner they retired to the living room to watch television. Paul put on some sort of mindless game show. Paige grabbed the novel she had been reading and curled up on the end of the sofa. She did her best to tune out the television. When she would notice Paul from time to time he seemed to be tuning out the program as well. He would just stare into space with a faraway look. "Well, I'm going to bed," Margaret announced when the local news came on. "Goodnight everyone!" "Night," Paige replied without looking up from her book. "Goodnight," Paul stood and followed Margaret. The two disappeared down the hallway together, but Paul returned a minute later alone. He flopped down in his recliner with a heavy sigh. "What's the matter?" Paige asked. "What? Oh, nothing. Why do you ask?" Paul evaded. "Whatever," Paige mumbled into her book. If he wanted to pretend that his life was just peachy keen, that was his business. She looked up at the television. The local news appeared to be covering some sort of dog talent show. Dear God, she thought, kill me now. "Fuck it. I'm going to bed." "Goodnight," Paul said absently. He seemed to have gotten interested in the dog talent show suddenly. Paige rolled her eyes and walked off down the hallway. She crawled under the pink comforter and lay in the dark for quite a while. She heard Paul turn off the television and pad down the hallway on his way, she assumed, to the guest bedroom. Still she couldn't relax enough to fall asleep. She could feel the tension tying her midsection in knots and grinding at her jaw. Her body seemed to insist on staying awake until she absolutely collapsed of exhaustion. She turned on the light and tried reading Lucy's novel. She had spent the entire evening using the book to avoid Paul and Margaret's inane television, however, and Paige's eyes were tiring. The words on the page were swimming in and out of focus. She tossed the book aside and looked around the pink, frilly bedroom. It was starting to look as though she might die of boredom rather than cancer. Paige got up and paced around the room. There was a poster of four scruffy-looking young men with a band called "tenth avenue north." Next to that was a very pretty blonde girl in a long flowered dress. Paige didn't recognize any of them. There were stuffed animals of all shapes and colors. She pulled open a drawer full of t-shirts. The next drawer was full of blue jeans. The drawer on top contained plain, white cotton underwear in neat rows. "Wait, what's this?" Paige caught a glimpse of bright red in the back of the drawer. She dug through the white granny panties and pulled out a tiny, red thong. It was risqué even by Paige's standards. There was nothing but a tiny triangle connected by a few narrow ribbons of fabric. "Well, well. Miss Lucy, you are the most interesting person in this family." The proper thing to do, Paige knew, would be to put the scandalous underwear back in its hiding place and go back to bed. She also knew, however, that doing the proper thing had never been her strong suit. "Life is too short" had always been her motto. It was only getting shorter. Terminal Case Paige pulled off her baggy sweat pants and her own bikini briefs and stepped into the tiny thong. She drew the strings up her long legs and positioned the tiny fabric triangle over her pussy lips. She hitched up her t-shirt and sauntered over to Lucy's dressing mirror to admire herself. Paige had always made it a point to keep her bush neatly trimmed, but even her abbreviated pubic hairs were spilling out the top of the tiny panties. Paige had never seen any reason to wear a thong - when she had been worried about visible panty lines she was more than happy to just go without underwear altogether - but she had to admit that the tiny panties made her feel quite sexy. Maybe there was a matching bra! Paige went back to her niece's underwear drawer and dug around. She pulled the drawer out all the way and pushed aside anything plain and white. She didn't see any more red lingerie, but she did find a plastic baggie full of a green, leafy material. Paige yanked it out and held it up to the dim light. There was about half a handful of dried marijuana buds and a few small slips of rolling papers. "Lucy," Paige grinned. She hadn't gotten high since college, but this seemed like the perfect opportunity. "You are my new favorite relative." Paige rushed to the window and threw up the sash. She quickly and deftly rolled a tight joint and fired it up with a cigarette lighter from her purse. She drew a heavy toke and reveled in the sharp sting as the fumes filled her lungs. Soon her troubled mind was filled with a pleasant fog as the drug took effect. Paige sat in the window looking out over the lights of the city and blowing puffs of acrid smoke into the night air. She was feeling relaxed for the first time in a month. The sweet high made all of her problems drift into the background - faded and unimportant. That was why she had finally quit, Paige remembered. She had been on the verge of not caring about anything at all. Now of course it didn't matter. She smoked out the last of the joint and tossed the smoldering nub out into the street. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the warm, fuzzy high and the cool night air caressing her nearly bare ass. Paige put her hand on the tiny triangle of her borrowed panties and felt the heat of her sex through the thin fabric. Another thing she remembered from college: getting high had always made her irrationally horny. Unable to think of any reason not to, Paige slowly slid aside the miniscule front panel of the thong and slipped a finger between her pussy lips. Easy access, she thought vaguely, was another benefit of this style of underwear. She dropped back onto the frilly, pink bed and imagined being ravished by a strong, aggressive lover. She quickly climaxed with two fingers of her left hand thrusting into her wet opening and one finger from her right hand rapidly stroking her engorged love button. Paige woke the next morning feeling well-rested and refreshed. She quickly closed the window which she had forgotten the night before and wriggled out of Lucy's red thong. She hid that and the baggie of pot back in Lucy's underwear drawer and went to breakfast. She managed to get through the morning without exploding at Margaret. It helped that her sister spent much of the time vacuuming the apartment. Paige sat on the sofa clicking through television channels. Paul and Margaret had about three thousand channels, but there wasn't a thing worth watching on any of them. That afternoon when Paige stumbled out of her daily radiation treatment feeling like a reanimated corpse, the young nurse from the day before helped guide her out to the waiting room. "The woman who isn't your girlfriend has a surprise for you," the nurse said with a sweet smile. "Great," Paige croaked. She was too exhausted to compose a witty retort. She hoped the sarcastic tone came through. In the waiting room, Margaret was proudly standing behind a chrome and black wheelchair. "Oh, Paige you poor thing," Margaret patted the seat. "Come along, dear, and we'll get you home." "Fuck," Paige mumbled. She fully intended to tell Margaret where to stick her wheelchair. Paige was not an invalid! She didn't need to be wheeled around. She didn't get a chance to say that, however, because the room seemed to be expanding and contracting like it was painted on the inside of a balloon with Paige trapped in the middle. Instead she collapsed into the waiting wheelchair and tried to tuck her pounding head under her arm. "Fuck," she mumbled again. Margaret wheeled Paige out of the clinic and into the street. Paige felt ridiculous being wheeled down the sidewalk, but she had to admit it was a lot easier than walking. Especially since she could close her eyes against the knives of sunlight stabbing into her aching head. "Margaret," Paige said reluctantly. "Yes, dear?" "Thanks for the chair." "Oh, you're welcome," Margaret cooed. She smoothed a rebellious strand of Paige's short hair and went on pushing the wheelchair. "It's such a long walk for you, you know." "Why is Paul sleeping in the guest room?" Paige blurted. "He says it's because of snoring, but I know that's bullshit." "Oh! What? Oh, well ... ummm ... did he say that? It's just that ... you know ... ummm." "Shit, Margaret," Paige insisted with an exaggerated wheeze. She wasn't above playing the Terminal Illness Card. "You can trust me." "Oh, I know, I know. It's because, well," Margaret leaned over the back of the wheelchair to whisper in Paige's ear, "it's because of sex." "Paul is having an affair?" Paige was incredulous. She didn't think her brother could even spell extramarital. "Oh, no. No," Margaret shook her head. "Paul would never do anything remotely like that." "Well, what then?" Paige insisted. Margaret was clearly uncomfortable with the subject, which made Paige all the more interested. "Paul has these episodes, you see," Margaret said quietly. "Like sleepwalking. Except instead of walking, he ... you know ... does other things." "Sex?" Paige asked. "He has sex in his sleep? With you?" "Yes," Margaret admitted with a tortured sigh. "Well, that's not so bad," Paige blurted. "No, it's terrible! He's not himself. He's just brutal and aggressive. Tearing off my clothes like an animal. Forcing himself on me." "Oh," Paige nodded. That didn't sound so bad to her, either. Paige had often enjoyed a little rough sex from time to time. Not that she was going to tell Margaret that. The short, chubby woman might collapse right there in the street. "Doesn't sound like the Paul I know." "No, not at all," Margaret agreed. "He says he doesn't remember anything the next day, but ... oh, I just don't know what to believe. He's like a man possessed." Paige only nodded. For most people "a man possessed" was a figure of speech. Given Margaret's superstitions, however, that might be her literal diagnosis. She needed a marriage counselor, but was probably looking in the Yellow Pages under "exorcist." That night at dinner Paige watched her brother pray over their food like some sort of overgrown boy scout and tried to picture him getting off on wild sex. It was difficult to imagine. Maybe it was difficult for him to imagine, too. That could be why his subconscious had taken over while he was asleep. "What's on your mind, Paige?" Paul asked with some concern. "Oh, nothing," Paige evaded. "Just spacing off." "I know we get on your nerves ..." "No!" Paige insisted. "You've been great to let me stay here. It's a big help. These potatoes are delicious," she added, trying to change the subject. "Thank you," Margaret beamed. "I add a cup of buttermilk. That's the secret." "But I really regret that we've become so distant over the years," Paul continued. "I haven't respected your ... uhh ... beliefs and I've pushed you away. I apologize for that. I'm glad the Lord has given us ... well ... I'm glad we have this chance to get closer." "It's just lovely to have you here, dear," Margaret patted her hand condescendingly. "Thanks," Paige replied quietly. She found that it meant a lot to her that Paul would apologize. She wasn't sure he'd ever actually apologized to her before. He'd prayed to his God for forgiveness plenty of times, but never asked it from her. "I'm glad, too." "The Lord works in mysterious ways," Margaret told them. Paige looked at Paul and rolled her eyes. He just shrugged as if to say he didn't know what his wife was talking about either. Paige laughed and shook her head. She could see Paul chuckling to himself behind a big fork full of mashed potatoes. "Cape Hatteras," Paige announced after a few minutes of eating in silence. "I'm sorry?" Margaret looked up from her food in confusion. "Remember that summer?" Paige turned to Paul. "We stayed in that tiny, rickety cabin down on the beach." "Oh, yeah," Paul grinned. "I must have been - what? - fifteen or sixteen. You were ..." "I was twelve. We ran up and down the beach all day. Or just laid in the sand and watched the sailboats on the bay," Paige said wistfully. It was the last real quality time she had spent with the family. At that age she was finding her parent's expectations increasingly difficult to live up to. More and more she was making her own decisions and setting her own priorities. "That sounds lovely," Margaret sighed. "Good memories," Paul agreed. "We always wanted to go back but ... there was never time, I guess." "Someday I want to go back there," Paige told them. "Just one more time before ... well ... someday." "Someday you will," Paul got up from his seat and set a gentle hand on her shoulder. Paige patted his hand and smiled. She was going to find a way to help her big brother, she decided. His problem was kinky sex, so that meant she was the one with the expertise for once. Maybe she could help Margaret understand that a little spanking or hair pulling could be fun. That night Paige crawled into her niece Lucy's pink bed feeling more hopeful than she had in weeks. Nonetheless, even after two hours she was still tossing and turning. She clicked on the lamp and tried reading for an hour. She finally finished the book she had borrowed from Lucy's shelf, but still didn't feel relaxed enough to sleep. The thought of starting another novel was too daunting at that moment, so she pulled out Lucy's stash and rolled another joint. She sat in the window and felt her cares floating away like the smoke she blew out into the night. The city looked so peaceful from this high up. She knew that was just an illusion. The city was a chaotic, dangerous place. At night more than ever. But it was a useful illusion. Just like the illusion of her troubles floating away on the wind. The troubles were still there, she had just temporarily stopped caring. Fortunately, she didn't care about that either. Paige tossed the nub into the street, remembered to close the window this time, and slid into Lucy's bed. She thought she might be able to sleep finally. First, she considered the warm feeling in her nether region. Getting high alone and masturbating was pretty pathetic, but it was becoming her routine. She was in no position to complain. You took what you could get. She slipped her fingers into her panties. She was wet already. Her body seemed to be two steps ahead of her. She visualized big, strong arms holding her down, gently but firmly bending her to their will. She slipped a finger inside her hot, moist opening. Paige gasped with pleasure and imagined her powerful lover thrusting into her again and again. Her fingers acted out her fantasy on her delicate flesh and soon she was near her climax. Fuck, she needed a fat cock filling her up, not her narrow little fingers. How thick was Paul's cock, she wondered. He was certainly a big man, tall and broad in the shoulders. With his strong arms he could hold her tight, make her do whatever he wanted. She shouldn't be thinking of her brother at a time like this, but she had reached the point of no return. She flung herself over the precipice of orgasm and climaxed with her brother on her mind. That was wrong, she vaguely realized. But that was one more thing she didn't care about at that moment. She drifted off to a peaceful sleep soon after. The next morning she slept in even later than usual. When she finally crawled out of bed, she was alone in the apartment. Margaret wasn't around anywhere. In the kitchen there was a note that said, "I've gone to the grocery!! There's a pot of coffee on!! Help yourself!! God's Love, Margie" Paige did just that. The coffee was stale, but she didn't mind. The extra sleep was worth it. She felt more rested than she had in months. She sat at the table going over in her mind what she would say to Margaret. She needed a good metaphor. Something that would help Margaret understand. "Oh, good, you're up!" Margaret burst into the apartment carrying two overflowing bags of groceries. She set the bags down on the table in front of Paige and then rushed out of the room again. "I'll put those away in a minute, but I have to visit the ladies' room first! Be right back!" Paige got up and poked through the bags. She didn't really know where this stuff belonged, but she felt obligated to at least try to help. There was ice cream - that would obviously go in the freezer. There was a huge can of something called Crisco, which Paige couldn't even identify and left alone. She was looking through the kitchen cabinets for a place to put baking soda when Margaret returned from the bathroom. "Oh, you don't have to do that!" Margaret clucked. "I just had to run to the bathroom quick or I was going to explode." "That's it!" Paige exclaimed. "What dear?" "If you need to use the bathroom," Paige began, "and you try to hold it, it just builds up more and more." "Oh, I know, dear," Margaret protested. "It's just that the ladies' room at the grocery is so filthy. I'd much rather wait until I get home." "That's beside the point," Paige shook her head. "What I'm saying, is that if you hold it the need to go keeps building. And if you keep holding it, it builds up even more until you just can't hold it anymore." "I'm sorry, did you need to use the bathroom?" Margaret said with concern. "No!" Paige took a deep breath. "The point is that men are like a full bladder. They have this need for sex. If the need isn't met, it just builds up until they explode. Do you get what I'm saying?" "Oh, that's silly," Margaret told her while stuffing a bag of baby carrots into the refrigerator. "People don't need sex. It's a desire of the flesh to test our faith." "Ok, don't say 'need,'" Paige conceded. She thought the word need was pretty damn accurate, especially for the men she had dated, but was willing to give some ground for the sake of argument. "Just say they really, really want it. And if you ignore your wants, they can build up until they take over." "Are you talking about Paul?" "Yes!" Paige exclaimed, pleased that Margaret seemed to be understanding her message. "I was just thinking that maybe if you two were ... you know ... intimate more often then maybe his desire wouldn't take over in the night." "Nonsense," Margaret scoffed. "Two wrongs don't make a right." "It's not wrong. You are married, for God's sake," Paige growled. She took a deep breath and tried to cool her temper. "It's an expression of love. Just ... you know ... express love a few more times a week." "A week? A week? I'm not some ... some harlot!" Margaret shrieked. "Okay, okay. How often do you make love? Two or three times a month?" Paige looked at her sister expectantly, but Margaret just crossed her arms and stuck out her chin. "Once a month? Come on, at least once a month?" "That's none of your concern! Paul and I are done with all that!" "Done? What do you mean 'done?'" Paige gasped. "You mean ... you mean you don't have sex at all?" "There is more to life than sex you know! Paul will understand that. He just has to pray and the Lord will give him understanding." "You can't ask him to live without sex," Paige said, her voice dripping with contempt. "Human beings aren't meant to live that way. Shit, no wonder he's doing these crazy things in his sleep." "Ha!" Margaret countered. "Look at the priests in the church. They take a vow of celibacy for life. You don't see them doing crazy sex things!" "There are a few altar boys who might disagree," Paige said wryly. "Oh, you would say that!" Margaret's chubby face turned beet red. "You have no respect for the church and the truth of God! All you care about is your own earthly pleasures, jumping from bed to bed like a common whore. But you're getting your punishment now, aren't you? God has seen your sin and you are punished!" Paige said nothing. She just stood in silence, slowly grinding her teeth and glaring at Margaret. Finally she took a step toward her sister, who cowered away. "Fuck. You," Paige slowly whispered and left the room. Paige slammed the door of her niece's pink bedroom and collapsed on the bed. You don't care what that dumb bitch thinks, she told herself. She repeated it over and over like a mantra. Even so, hot, salty tears ran down her cheeks. She wiped them away with angry swipes of her palm. She felt like a teenager again, hiding in her room after yet another blow up with her own mother. She used much the same mantra in those days. Except, she realized, it wasn't true. She did care what her mother thought of her. She just didn't agree. She had never been able to change her mother's opinion - not one iota in all the years of arguing. She wasn't going to be able to change Margaret's mind either. It would be better to emulate little Lucy and not fight everything head-on. Go ahead and wear the long, plaid skirt, but have a tiny, red thong underneath. Keep your marijuana hidden and keep your opinions to yourself. Paige wished she had been that smart as a teenager. Margaret was nowhere to be found when Paige left for her appointment at the clinic. That suited Paige just fine. She would have to deal with her sister sooner or later, but she was more than happy to put it off. The sky was a blanket of dark, gray clouds as she walked the three blocks to the clinic. The atmosphere suited her mood. Paige felt better after her treatment than she had the day before, which is to say she felt merely awful rather than astoundingly awful. Still it was a relief, because she was going to have to walk the few blocks back to the apartment on her own. In the foyer of the clinic, she looked out the glass doors and saw that the clouds had opened up and were dumping rain down on the streets. Several pedestrians ran past, rushing to get out of the downpour. "Fuck my life," Paige sighed. It figured that today of all days there would be a storm. She considered just waiting out the rain, but the uncomfortable waiting room chairs reduced her backside to jelly after just ten minutes. She would be better off lying on the floor, and her dignity was not ready to absorb that. Besides, she wanted to get out of that damn place so much Lucy's gaudy pink bedroom seemed like a paradise. She took a deep breath and pushed through the door. She shuffled onto the soaked sidewalk and felt the rain pelt her. It was cool, even refreshing. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad, she thought and put one foot in front of the other in the direction of Paul and Margaret's apartment building. Soon, however, the cool and refreshing rain became cold and stinging. Paige shivered and pushed on. She was already soaking wet so she might as well keep going. She looked up and saw Margaret scurrying down the block toward her, pushing the wheelchair with one hand and holding a multi-colored umbrella over her head with the other. Terminal Case "I'm so sorry, Paige," Margaret called out breathlessly. "The Lord says we must 'turn the other cheek' and I just didn't do that." Paige just nodded. It was a familiar story: Margaret hadn't done anything to hurt Paige or offend Paige. She had offended her imaginary God. It was the sort of non-apology Paige had heard her whole life. Still she ought to say something. Maybe this was a good time to stop fighting head-on. "I should just mind my own business," Paige sighed. "It isn't your fault, dear," Margaret clucked. "I know you want to help, in your way. There are just some things you don't understand." Paige's anger flared. She understood plenty! Margaret was the delusional one. But she reminded herself not to start the same argument all over again. She just nodded. A shiver shook her body. "Oh, dear, you're soaked to the bone," Margaret fussed. "Here sit down and let's get you home." Paige collapsed into the wheelchair. Margaret produced another umbrella from the pocket on the seat back, opened it wide, and handed it to Paige. She was already about as wet as she could get, but the relief from the stinging rain drops was much appreciated. "Thanks for coming to get me," Paige said reluctantly. "Of course, dear." The two women set off down the street. "And I'm sorry about what I said. God didn't give you that cancer as a punishment. That is not his way." Paige just rolled her eyes. As usual Margaret missed the point. It was clear she personally felt Paige deserved a brain tumor as punishment for being ... basically for being herself. Margaret's interpretation of God's opinion was not relevant. For one thing, Margaret didn't speak for God. For another thing, Paige wasn't convinced the guy even existed. "I'll ask when I see him," Paige shrugged. She wasn't above playing the Terminal Illness Card. Margaret didn't reply. Back in Lucy's pink bedroom, Paige stripped out of her soaking wet clothes and wrapped herself in a big, fluffy towel. She planned to rest on the bed for a moment and then blow dry her hair, but exhaustion overtook her and she was soon sleeping soundly. She woke several hours later, feeling much better physically if not emotionally. Paige grabbed a dry pair of bikini briefs from her suitcase, but then tossed them aside. She had a better idea. She pulled open the top drawer of Lucy's dresser and dug through the plain white underwear to find the tiny, red thong. She slipped into the miniscule panties and strutted in front of the mirror. Other than her short, blonde hair being matted down on one side and spiked out on the other, she thought she looked pretty good. She pulled on a tie-dyed maxi dress and padded out into the hall. She could hear Margaret in the kitchen fussing over dinner. Paul was home from work and had parked himself in his favorite recliner in the living room. The nightly news was on the television, but he was staring blankly at the floor rather than watching. Paige sat down on the sofa, but he didn't seem to notice she was there. "So how was your day?" she asked loudly. "Wha-?" he jumped. He looked around with a scowl, but quickly pasted on a smile when he saw Paige. "Oh, hey, Paige. How are you feeling? Can I get you something?" "I'm fine. No, no, sit down. How was your day?" "It was good. Busy day at work," Paul said absently. "Has your oncologist given you a progress report? Do you know how the treatments are working?" "No, nothing," Paige told him. "But no news is good news, right?" "Yeah," Paul said skeptically. He turned back to the television. Paige felt an overwhelming urge to apologize. For what, she wasn't sure. For sticking her nose into his personal business, maybe. No, she didn't regret trying to help. She did regret utterly failing. In fact, she had probably made things worse. Margaret seemed more entrenched in her position than ever. Poor Paul was never going to get laid at this rate. "Paul," she began. He turned to look at her, but once she had his attention she wasn't sure what to say. Offering sympathy for his marital troubles would just embarrass him. It might even seem like gloating, given their many epic disagreements of the past. Instead she just told him, "Thanks." "You bet, Paige," he smiled. "That's what family is for." Margaret was cheerful at dinner. She chatted incessantly about the selection of vegetables at the grocery store and intricacies of preparing Velveeta chicken casserole. Ordinarily Paige would have been bored out of her mind and ready to strangle her sister, but that evening she was relieved Margaret had moved past their blowup. She watched television with Paul and Margaret for a while after dinner, but couldn't tolerate it for long. She made her excuses and retreated to Lucy's bedroom. She thumbed through Lucy's copy of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. She hadn't read that one since she was a teenager. Paige brought the book over to the window and decided to roll herself another joint from Lucy's stash. It was a risk with Paul and Margaret still up and around, but it had been a long day. She felt she had earned it. Paige sat and read in the window, savoring the sharp taste of the marijuana. She heard Margaret's slow, soft footsteps going off to bed. A few puffs later she heard Paul's long, heavy footsteps. Muffled voices floated in from the hallway. She had several good drags left on the joint, so she set it carefully on the windowsill, clicked off the lamp, and hurried over to the door. Ever so carefully, she eased the door open and pressed her ear to the gap. "...prayed on it and I am better now," Paul was pleading. "Better?" Margaret was barely audible. She must be behind her own bedroom door. "You never admitted anything was wrong!" "What do you want me to say, Margie?" Paul asked sadly. "I'm just a sinner like all of us. Can't you forgive me?" "Goodnight, Paul!" "Goodnight," Paul whispered softly. Paige closed the door. Her heart went out to the poor guy. He seemed absolutely heartbroken. She didn't know what she would do in his situation. Actually, she did know. She would divorce the nut job and start dating a bisexual circus performer who would want to screw twice a day in a variety of exotic and challenging positions. Paul, however, wasn't going to do that. She wished he would - then they could finally have some interesting discussions at family dinners. She picked up her joint, but she had lost interest in the book. She sat in the window, puffing smoke out into the night and thinking about life. People are stupid, she decided. They make themselves miserable following all these stupid rules. They're so miserable they never take the time to realize the rules are just made up anyway. Paige finished the joint and closed the window. She pulled her long, flowing dress over her head and tossed it aside. She crawled under the fluffy, pink comforter wearing nothing but the borrowed g-string. Was there any way to avoid all that bullshit? Not for Margaret, obviously. Better to just mind your own business. Don't lose sleep over other people's self-inflicted wounds. She put the craziness of the day out of her mind and tried to relax. She wished she had someone to hold her, kiss her lightly on the neck, tell her it was going to be all right. Then maybe they would start kissing lower, down to her small but firm breasts. Paige slipped her hand into her tiny panties and felt the heat of her wet center. God, pot made her so ridiculously horny! She slid a finger inside, moaning quietly. With her free hand, she tugged at one hard nipple. It felt so good she pinched harder. The delicious pain made her squirm. She could feel her pussy convulse around her fingers. It was hot, but she knew immediately that it was not enough. "Fuck it," she threw off the covers and strode across the room. Wearing nothing but the tiny thong she pulled open the door and walked boldly into the hall. She didn't care who saw her or what they might think. To hell with everyone and their bullshit rules. The door to the guest bedroom was slightly ajar and she pushed it open and slipped inside. She heard her brother snoring quietly somewhere in the darkness. As her eyes adjusted to the gloom, she made out the big double bed and felt her way toward it. Paige pulled back the quilt and crawled under. It was warm in Paul's bed, the way only sharing a bed with another person can be. His heat was comforting and Paige snuggled up to him, pressing her bare skin against his warmth. She nuzzled her head on his broad chest where she could hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. It was safe here with his powerful and calm presence, and in a matter of minutes she was asleep. She didn't know how long she slept, but she awoke slowly. Her dream had been sexual and although the dream quickly faded away the sexual feeling remained. Someone was kissing her, his tongue exploring her mouth hungrily. She opened her eyes slowly but could see nothing but indistinct, dark contours. Even so, the kissing was lovely and she kissed him back eagerly. There was more. Something was inside of her. Something twirled around and around the sensitive walls of her pussy. Was she getting fucked? No, it was too small and flexible to be a cock. It was a finger. No, it was at least two fingers. She was being fingered. Holy shit, it was Paul! Her brother was fingering her in her sleep! Then the finger was gone. Just when she was starting to enjoy herself! He stopped kissing her also. That was all? She wasn't expecting fireworks, but more than a little finger bang would be nice. He grabbed her short hair and pulled her head back. That hurt! She started to cry out, but something was stuffed into her open mouth. Fingers, she realized. They had a musky but sweet taste that was somehow familiar. He let go of her hair, but shoved her head back with his hand on her lower jaw. A heavy weight settled on top of her and her legs were being forced apart. She squeezed her legs together - she needed more foreplay than that! - but couldn't resist his superior strength for more than a second. Then he was lying between her legs and she understood that she had no control over what happened next. Not one to just lie around, Paige wrapped her lips around the fingers in her mouth and gently sucked. What was that taste? Of course! It was her pussy. She tasted pretty good, Paige thought as she hungrily slurped her juices off the hard digits filling her mouth. In the meantime Paul was shifting around on top of her. Soon there was something round and hard pressing against her wet entry. How big would he be? She had no idea. She had never seen him undressed - even as toddlers they had been taught that their bodies were evil and should be hidden. He was such a big man, but that didn't always mean a guy was big where it counted. It looked like she was about to find out! With a grunt he slammed into her. His full length penetrated her at a single stroke. Big! her mind screamed. He was big! And taking her much too fast! Her body struggled to adjust to the invasion. It was pleasure mixed with pain and it was too much at once! She moaned against the fingers stuffed in her mouth. Paul pulled back and rammed into her again, shoving her down into the mattress. Paige held her hands against the wall of muscle on top of her in a feeble effort to slow down the ram plundering her delicate insides. Paul pulled his fingers out of her mouth, gathered up her thin wrists in one meaty fist, and pinned her hands up above her head. He placed his other hand on her chest and resumed rutting on her in earnest. She was helpless to stop him. Fortunately, his thick tool was soon coated with her freely flowing juices and slid into her easily. He slipped in and out of her moist canal, caressing her delicate nerve endings and pushing all thoughts of stopping him out of her mind. "Oh, holy fuck!" she cried out. "Fuck me!" Later on she would consider that it was a miracle they didn't wake the whole building, much less Paul's wife in the room across the hall, but at the time she was lost in the moment. Without warning, Paul released her. She felt the cool night air on her sweat-dampened skin and wanted his heat back on top of her. Mostly she wanted him back inside of her. Strong hands grabbed her around the hips and lifted her off the mattress. She groped around in the dark before being dropped onto her stomach. Paul again lay on top of her, pinning her down to the bed. She felt his hard cock press against her ass as he maneuvered himself between her legs. Paige arched her back and spread her legs wide to give him easy access. She definitely wasn't ready for any backdoor action, so she did her best to tilt her hips and shove her pussy toward her brother. Asking nicely for him to put it in the right hole didn't seem like an option. The tip of Paul's cock found its hot, wet target and he shoved it home. Paige gasped. God that felt good! In that position his fat cock would smash into her G-spot, driving her wild with pleasure. She moaned into a pillow, not because she had the presence of mind to worry about making too much noise but because Paul's relentless pounding had thrust her face down into the bedding. After several explosive minutes of furious thrusting, Paul froze. Paige felt her brother's cock swell inside her and then jerk and buck as he sprayed his seed into her womb. The pulsating cock drove her over the edge and she climaxed herself. The room seemed to spin and she saw little pinpricks of color at the edge of her vision. "Holy fuck," she panted. She hadn't had sex in weeks and hadn't been so thoroughly fucked all year. It was long overdue. "Holy fucking fuck." Paul collapsed on his side with an arm and a leg draped over Paige. He was snoring softly almost immediately. Was he really asleep? Had he just done all that while sleepwalking? Sleep ... fucking? She felt a little sorry for him - that was some epic sex and he slept right through it. Of course, it was just as well. He was probably too inhibited when he was conscious to get in touch with his wild side. Hell, she was surprised as shit to find he even had a wild side. Paige slithered out from under Paul and got out of bed. She was tempted to stay the rest of the night - it was so cozy and comfortable sleeping with the big teddy-bear - but no excuse in the world would save her ass if they woke up in bed together, naked, and coated in each others' bodily fluids. She adjusted her thong - it was shoved up into the crease at the top of her thigh - and went back to her own room. The next day was back to routine. Paige spent the morning hanging around and watching Margaret clean. She made her regular appointment at the clinic and then came back to the apartment feeling like walking death. After a short nap, she went to the kitchen to nurse a cup of coffee while Margaret got dinner ready. "Hello, everybody!" Paul burst into the apartment. He was home from work and apparently in a good mood. "It's a beautiful day!" "What the hell are you so happy about?" Paige mumbled into her coffee. Then she recalled their little adventure of the night before. Even if Paul had no memory of it, the sex hormones could sure change his outlook. She smiled to herself in spite of her pounding headache. "Welcome home, dear," Margaret said. "Chicken and rice for dinner." "Sounds delicious!" Paul gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Hey, Paige! How are you feeling?" "Pretty good, actually," Paige answered with some surprise. She did feel pretty good. Paul's new enthusiasm was infectious. "So I was thinking," Paul grinned like a kid in a candy store, "after dinner we could go the Met. There's a new rooftop sculpture exhibit. Doesn't that sound fun?" "Oh, I don't know," Margaret clucked. "Paige really needs her rest." "No, I could go for a little while," Paige insisted. Anything to get away from mind numbing channel surfing for an evening. And her big brother voluntarily visiting an art museum? That was too rare to pass up. The art museum was amazing. The rooftop garden was filled with installations of dramatic, avant garde sculptures. And all around, the panorama of the city spread out in every direction. The light of the setting sun glinted in a hundred sparkling windows. "Holy fuck," Paige mumbled in awe of the view. "What was that?" Paul jumped as if startled by something. "Sorry," Paige shrugged. She was never going to get the hang of watching her language around Paul and his family. "I don't even realize I'm saying stuff like that. I meant, wow. It's an amazing view." "No, I just thought ... well ... it seems like I've heard that particular expression ..." Paul trailed off. He seemed to be lost in thought for a moment. "Anyway," he shook his head and continued. "It really is an amazing view." "Good heavens," Margaret clucked at a ten-foot-tall, stylized female figure in bronze. The statue had no face and no arms but thick voluptuous thighs and a protruding belly and breasts. "What passes for art these days!" Paige opened her mouth to reply. If Margaret would just stop being so narrow minded and judgmental she might actually see what was right in front of her! Before she said a word, however, Paige stopped herself. Was a scathing rebuke of Margaret's lack of artistic sensibility really going to make a difference? Probably not. "Actually," Paige said mildly, "I think it's quite lovely." "Well, I can't see how. It doesn't even have ..." Margaret protested. "Say, Margie," Paul cut in, "I bet there's a lovely view of the park from over here." He graciously led his wife away. Paige gave him a thumbs up when Paul looked back over his shoulder. Paige wandered alone around the exhibit. At least, as alone as one can be in a crowd of art lovers. She enjoyed the time, however. The exhibit was lovely and the evening was pleasant. Even more, she enjoyed being among people who appreciated art and culture. She soaked in their quiet comments of respect and enjoyment like the roots of a plant soaking up nutrients out of the soil. She hadn't realized how much she had missed this type of company. Even so, being on her feet started to wear on her and she was soon ready to go home. "I could've made this," Margaret was complaining when Paige found her and Paul standing underneath a sculpture of a giant, mangled paperclip. "I'm ready to go," Paige told them. "But I've had a really nice time. Really, I have." "That's great, Paige." Paul smiled at her. "Yes, it is wonderful," Margaret agreed. "Let's get back home." That night Paige crawled into bed and intended to stay there. She really was tired from the trip to the museum. Besides, she'd had her fun with Paul. He was happier, she felt better. It was time, she decided, to quit while she was ahead. If she pressed her luck, Margaret was going to catch them. It was a miracle she hadn't caught them last night! The sight of Paige and Paul fucking like wild animals would probably give her a coronary. Paige thought she would enjoy the look of shock on Margaret's smug, little face. On the other hand, she would feel a little guilty if the bitch dropped dead. No, she definitely was just going to go to bed alone and stay there. Her body, however, had other plans. It started with a warm feeling in her mid-section. That got her thinking about Paul, sleeping just down the hall. His big, strong arms. His long, hard cock. The sublime joy of just surrendering to his power and letting him do whatever he wanted with her eager body. "Oh, fuck," she mumbled and crawled out of bed. She wasn't getting any sleep this way! She pulled her night shirt over her head and tossed it aside. She tiptoed out into the dark hallway wearing nothing but a pair of blue bikini briefs. She slipped into Paul's bed and snuggled up next to his sleeping form. It felt good to be there pressed against his powerful body, but her own body wasn't satisfied. She didn't want to cuddle, she wanted to be fucked silly. She held on to Paul and pulled herself close. She had to resist the urge to shake him awake. She didn't want him awake! Terminal Desire Helen Davison walked into the main concourse of the airport and headed purposefully for the check-in area. She was quite an attractive woman with deep hazel eyes, rounded cheek-bones, a button nose and full lips. She wore her long, blonde hair loose and it hung below her shoulders. She wore a well tailored, black trouser suit, a dark purple blouse and on her feet were a pair of black 3" heels. She pulled a small case behind her, the wheels rolling smoothly on the shiny floor. Squeezing behind the crowd in front of the departures board, she examined the details and cursed inwardly when she saw that her flight, along with a dozen others, was delayed. It was now estimated to board at four-twenty, nearly three hours away. There was nothing that the thirty-four year old businesswoman could do except wait. She took hold of her small, brown luggage case and threaded her way between a herd of Germans who flooded in from the terminal forecourt. At the end of the concourse was a coffee shop where she queued for ten minutes before walking away with a large, overpriced latte. She surveyed the seating area. There seemed to be no free tables but there were a few individual seats that didn't seem to be taken. Helen moved to a table occupied solely by a woman who was dressed in what she took to be a flight attendant's uniform; white collared blouse, peppermint green skirt and jacket with matching shoes. The woman had black hair that had been pulled back into a tight bun held by a green scrunchie. She was staring hard at a newspaper obviously deep in thought and lightly tapping a pen against her perfect teeth. Helen manoeuvred through cases, rucksacks and carrier bags of a party of noisy Italians to the single vacant chair. "Hi. Is anyone sitting here?" Helen asked. The woman looked up at her and smiled. "No. Please sit," the woman replied in accented but excellent English. "Thank you." Helen sat to the woman's left, placed the latte on the table and manoeuvred the case next to the chair. She smoothed her trousers and crossed her legs before opening her bag and taking out a mobile phone. She pressed a series of buttons before placing it to her ear. As she waited for her call to be answered, she noticed the woman glancing at her. Helen looked away. The call was answered quickly but it was a voicemail. "Hi, Lucy, it's Helen. My flight's going to be delayed for about three hours so can you call Eduardo to let him know that I hope to be there by eight? Thanks. If there's any change I'll let you know. Bye." Helen replaced the phone in her bag and took a sip of the coffee. She glanced at the flight attendant and saw that the woman was looking at her. Helen gave her a swift, nervous smile and looked away suddenly finding the coffee shop's price list exceedingly interesting. She sipped more of the latte and studied a man in a grey suit jabbering into a phone, gesticulating wildly. Harried parents were rushing to and fro with bags and kids. In general, Helen liked flying. It was an opportunity to have a few hours to herself without anyone pestering her, a short time to just sit back and let everyone else do the worrying. Even a hold-up like this didn't make that much of an impression her. It was only an inconvenience when plans at the other end had been made and had to be altered but that was easily accomplished. Besides, there was little that anyone could do about it. "So you are delayed, yes?" the woman said. Helen turned to her. "Err, yes. About three hours." A name badge attached to the woman's jacket proclaimed that Isabella Moreno was Cabin Crew. "Me also." Isabella scowled. "The French are striking again. It is bad news but at least I am being paid to drink coffee." Helen smiled meekly in acknowledgement and returned her attention to the price list. As she watched the throng of people move about, she noticed that Isabella was writing something on the edge of her newspaper. Finished, she tore it off and folded it. Helen looked at her again and this time Isabella was looking straight into Helen's eyes. After what seemed an eternity, Isabella placed the paper on the table and slid it in front of Helen who merely stared at it for a second before looking back at Isabella. Still staring at Helen, Isabella parted her lips and slowly ran her tongue between them. Helen began to wonder if this woman making a pass at her. At once she felt both embarrassed and excited. Apprehensively, Helen picked up the scrap of paper, opened it and read what the woman had written. 'You are very beautiful woman. I would like to make love to you.' Helen didn't know what to do or say. All she could do was stare at the paper open mouthed. Isabella leaned closer and smiled gently as she reached out and lightly ran her fingers over Helen's trouser covered knee. Surprised, Helen jerked her leg away. Isabella looked hurt. "What's the matter? Don't you find me attractive?" "No," said Helen. "I mean, yes. You are very good looking but..." "But ...?" "Well, I.... I'm sorry if I've given you the wrong impression but I'm not a lesbian." Isabella leaned forward conspiratorially. "You don't have to be a lesbian to make love to another woman. And doing it once won't turn you into one." Isabella sat back and they sat in silence for a few moments. A jumble of thoughts and emotions crashed through Helen's mind. She had shied away from Isabella's touch purely because of shock but she now realised that it had also sent a wisp of tingling pleasure straight to her crotch. The woman's sheer bravado had caused Helen to stop herself from grabbing her things and leaving the table. As for not being a lesbian ... well maybe what Isabella had said was true. Besides, Isabella was actually kind of... sexy. Yes! Sexy. And in fact quite pretty too. And there it was. Oh my god, she thought. She's using her feminine allure and I'm responding. And she did have at least a couple of hours to waste before the flight and... who would ever know? Surprisingly, Helen realised that she was actually thinking about having sex with Isabella, and that those thoughts were actually turning her on. There was no doubt that a warm, fuzzy feeling flowed over her and she felt quite flushed. Isabella leaned forward again. "Would like me to touch you again?" she whispered. It was all Helen could do to nod her head. Isabella slowly reached across and this time placed her left hand on Helen's thigh. Slowly, ever so slowly, Isabella's warm hand moved in slow, gentle circles, her fingers gently squeezing the flesh beneath the thin material. "Is that nice?" asked Isabella. "Yes," croaked Helen. She could feel her face becoming flushed and the beginnings of an ache in her crotch. "Good." Isabella lifted her hand and took another sip of her drink. "You know, I love touching women in places like this. The thought of so many people, so close, not knowing what we're doing, it really gets me so hot. I can see it has the same effect on you. Have you touched another woman before?" "No," said Helen. "Never." "Well then I think it's about time you did. Put your hand on my leg, just as I did to you." Isabella shifted in her seat and opened her legs a far as her skirt would allow. Helen tentatively placed her hand on Isabella's bare thigh, just above the knee. For a minute or so Helen stroked Isabella's smooth flesh. Isabella was right. Touching another woman in such a public place was indeed as exciting as Isabella had claimed and she found herself becoming hornier by the second. Nervously, she glanced about her, a part of her hoping that no one was watching and, astonishingly, another part hoping that someone was. No-one else seemed to be taking any notice. Helen couldn't believe what was happening. Here she was in a busy airport terminal caressing a strange woman's leg. Her heart was racing and her crotch felt as though it was on fire. "Thrilling, isn't it," said Isabella, grinning. "Yes," breathed Helen. Isabella leaned forward and placed her lips beside Helen's ear. "Would you like me to touch your pussy?" Isabella's words seemed to flick a switch in Helen's mind. There was no more embarrassment, hesitation or uncertainty. What remained was a burning desire for this woman to pleasure her. Oh fuck it! she thought. Here goes! "God, yes!" she gasped. "Well, I know somewhere we can go for a little more privacy. Will you come?" Helen merely nodded. Shakily, Helen stood and grabbed the handle of the case. Isabella manoeuvred herself between the tables and waited for Helen to negotiate the clutter of luggage, unruly teenagers and chairs. Isabella led the way along the concourse heading toward the security check area. Helen followed watching the sway of the younger woman's hips and thinking that very soon Isabella would be touching her vagina. And she would be touching Isabella's! The very thought of it sent a tremble coursing down her legs and she almost stumbled. A small doubt entered her mind. She only had to turn away, walk straight to the exit, lose Isabella in the crowd and be away from Isabella for good. Yeah! It would be easy! But Isabella had a power over her, a power that drew her onward, inexorably getting closer to the point of no return and the tiny voice of doubt was drowned in a sea of lust. They walked past the rows of crowded check-in desks the whole length of the concourse before Isabella stopped at one of the entrance doors to the security search area. "What now?" asked Helen. "It is okay. You go through security as normal. I will meet you on the other side because I must go another way, for the staff." "Where are we going?" asked Helen nervously. "Don't worry. Just wait for me at the Caviar House. I will find you." Helen watched Isabella walk away. This time she was determined to go through with it. I'm going to see it through to the end. I'm going to let that woman touch my... "Boarding card please." She rummaged in her bag for the printed sheet and handed it over. The security man waved her through and she waited an age for her turn to put her case on the x-ray conveyor, place her shoes and jacket in a plastic tray and pass through the metal detector. To her relief, no alarm sounded and she gathered her things, slipped on her shoes and made her way through the exit. Emerging into the departure lounge she found Isabella waiting just where she said. "That was quick." "I went straight through the staff security point. So are you ready?" she asked. "Yes." They moved slowly through the heaving departure lounge to where a crowded transit car waited with its doors invitingly open. "Where are we going?" "A quiet place I know of," said Isabella. They stepped aboard, just managing to squeeze on before the doors slid closed and the transport smoothly began its journey, gathering speed, the passengers swaying in concert with the turns. Helen felt Isabella's breasts pushing into her back and a hand caressing her bottom. She shifted her feet wider apart and Isabella responded by curling her teasing fingers into Helen's hot crotch. The transit slowed sharply as it approached a station. "We need to stay on for the next stop," Isabella said. They moved away from the doors as the other passengers jostled to get off as quickly as possible, heading to the escalators. One other passenger remained on board, a young dark-haired woman, about twenty, wearing a dark grey skirt suit and a yellow day-glo vest. The doors closed and the transit lurched forward again. The woman made her way toward them. "Hi, Isabella." She stepped to Isabella, placed her arms around Isabella's neck, leaned forward and kissed her passionately on the lips. They locked lips for a few seconds before easing apart. The newcomer looked at Helen, visually appraising her. "I take it that you two need my help?" Helen was dumbstruck but Isabella was unruffled. "Katy, we'd like to use the Express Lounge in Satellite Two." "Sure. But there'll be a price to pay the next time I see you." The transit braked again, slowing to a halt at another underground station. The doors swished open and Katy stepped out. "What's going on?" said Helen. "Who is she?" Isabella took Helen's arm and led her off the transit, past a pair of escalators and to a waiting lift. "Katy has access to one of the private lounges. She will let us use it for a while." Katy pushed the call button and they waited for the lift to descend. Thirty seconds later they were stepping out onto a deserted concourse. Departure gates were situated at intervals on both sides as they walked quickly the length of the building, past shuttered newsagents, bars and coffee shops. Eventually Katy stopped at a partitioned area where frosted glass doors declared that they had arrived at the Express Lounge. "Okay," said Katy. "Remember, I'll be back in an hour. Don't make a mess, don't have any drinks and for fuck sake don't get caught." She pulled her ID card from her vest and swiped it on the reader by the door. The door buzzed quietly and Katy pushed it open. Isabella took Helen's hand and followed Katy inside. "You two enjoy yourselves. I'd love to join you but I'm needed elsewhere." Katy kissed Isabella again and then looked at Helen. "Isabella said that you were hot. She wasn't kidding!" With that, Katy turned and walked out, pulling the door closed behind her. Isabella took Helen's arm and they moved through the door. "My god!" exclaimed Helen. What..." "Hush!" said Isabella. "Don't worry. Just relax and let things happen." The lounge interior was plush, modern and obviously unused for some time. A long bar with a dozen optics and stools was located against one wall with an empty refrigerator next to it. Deep sofas and chairs with large soft cushions were to be found arranged around tables laden with magazines. Opposite the bar were floor to ceiling windows running the entire length of the lounge allowing her see a dozen aircraft on the stands on a neighbouring satellite. Leaving her bag near the door, Helen stood in the centre of the room while Isabella moved to the bar. "So, what can I get you?" "Anything?" "Sure" "Okay. A rum and coke would go down a treat right now." "Coming right up. Why don't you take a seat?" Helen moved to one of the beige sofas and perched on the edge taking in the small details of the lounge. A number of large pot plants had been placed against the walls, their long stems and large leaves filling the spaces between small, framed watercolours and several rows of spotlights that were angled up at the ceiling. Moments later Isabella was standing in front of Helen holding out her drink. Isabella sat beside Helen and sipped her Martini. They sat in silence again for a while. "So, do you still want me to touch your pussy?" "Yes," said Helen, meekly. "Well you had better get those trousers off then." Helen took a big swig of the drink and placed it on a small table at the side of the sofa. She stood up and removed her jacket, laying it across the back of a neighbouring chair. "I want you to stand in front of me," said Isabella as she leaned back in the sofa. She crossed her legs, giving Helen a flash of stocking-top and continued to sip at her Martini as Helen unbuttoned her trousers and unzipped the fly. Helen slid them over her hips and let the trousers fall to the ground. She stepped out of them and looked apprehensively at Isabella. The younger woman sat for a few moments admiring Helen's long legs clad in a pair of black tights covering a pair of white cotton panties "Very nice," Isabella said. "Now, your top and bra." Helen obeyed, pulling the top over her head and dropping it to the floor. She fumbled with the catch of her bra before it too fell free. Helen felt extremely self-conscious standing in front of Isabella with her naked breasts on display. "Oh yes. They're lovely. Now I want you to take your nylons off." Helen lifted her feet, removed her shoes then rolled the tights down her legs and dropped them on the small pile of clothes. Isabella smiled. "Good. Nervous?" Helen just nodded. Isabella stood and positioned herself at Helen's side. With her left hand she caressed Helen's back before travelling down to her buttocks, her fingers tentatively exploring the top of the cleft. "By the way, what's your name?" asked Isabella, breathing into Helen's ear. "Helen." "Well Helen, there's no need to be nervous. Just relax and enjoy it." Using the palm of her right hand Isabella softly teased Helen's rapidly stiffening nipples. Helen gasped and closed her eyes tightly, struggling to contain her delight. Isabella trailed her fingers down Helen's belly and inside those white panties. For a few seconds Isabella ran her finger through Helen's wiry pubes. "Part your legs slightly," Isabella told Helen, who moved a foot to accommodate the intruding hand that pushed further in her panties and fondled her now engorged labia. A flourish of pure joy burst from Helen's crotch and surged through her body, causing her legs to shake. Isabella looked into Helen's eyes. "Oh! I think that you're enjoying it, aren't you?" Before she could reply, Helen took a sharp intake of breath because Isabella had parted her puffy labia and slowly eased a finger inside her slippery hole. Isabella slowly twisted and curled her finger as the heel of her hand massaged Helen's hairy mound. Meanwhile, the fingers of Isabella's left hand had curled around Helen's buttocks and her fingernails were now nudging against her anus. It was just too much. Helen's first orgasm coursed through her in a powerful series of waves, her vaginal muscles rhythmically gripping Isabella's finger. Isabella held Helen tightly until the shuddering had subsided. "Now I know that you are enjoying it!" giggled Isabella. "Why don't you sit down after I get these off?" She peeled Helen's wet panties down and hooked them over her feet. Isabella looked at Helen's crotch, appreciating her neatly trimmed pubes. Helen gratefully sat on the edge of the sofa and sat back. Isabella lifted her skirt up around her waist and removed her own damp panties. Helen watched open-mouthed as Isabella gave her own hairless vagina a quick rub and then knelt on the floor, pushing Helen's knees apart and exposing that hot, moist pussy. "Do you want me to lick it?" she asked. "Oh, yes. Please." Isabella leaned forward and buried her nose in Helen's bush. Suddenly, she inhaled a deep breath. "My! You smell wonderful. I wonder if you taste just as good." Without a further word, Isabella placed a thumb against Helen's pussy and pushed up and backward, revealing the small pink bud of Helen's clit. Isabella ran her tongue over and around it and then flicked it rapidly back and forth before giving it a gentle suck. At the same time Isabella reached down between her own legs with her free hand and began twiddling her engorged clit. Helen moaned deeply as Isabella now thumbed the fat clit and slid her tongue into Helen's dripping hole. Helen fastened Isabella's head with her thighs, pulling the young woman's tongue further into her burning pussy. Helen sucked in great gulps of air moments before her orgasm thundered through her body, racking it with intense spasms and making her moan loudly. Seconds later Isabella's own orgasm shot through her in one big flash. For an age the two women remained in place, savouring the experience and letting their tremors subside before Helen eventually released Isabella's head allowing the younger woman to take several deep breaths. "So," said Isabella climbing to her feet and plopping herself down next to Helen on the sofa. "You enjoyed it, yes?" "Oh it was marvelous. Thank you," said Helen. "It was a pleasure," said Isabella, her face still moist with Helen's juice. " Terminal Desire For some minutes they sat together in companionable silence, each basking in a post-orgasmic daze. Without a word, Helen slid her left hand across to Isabella's crotch and began to softly massage her bare cunt while Helen's right hand right did the same to her own. Isabella closed her eyes and laid back, letting the joy develop. Helen's left hand mirrored her right as she rubbed both vaginas, steadily increasing the pace and pressure until she was grinding quite hard and fast. Effortlessly, she then slipped a finger in both pussies, pushing to and fro, exploring the intricate ridges of their vaginal walls. Helen felt her third orgasm gradually build to a crescendo that rippled its way from her pussy to her extremities. Beside her, Isabella was breathing hard and shuddering to her own orgasm. Exhausted, Helen relaxed and sat back, her eyes closed, lost in a sea of elation. *** There was a small jolt as the Boeing 737 was pushed back from the gate. Helen finished with her shoulder bag, which was now in the overhead locker and returned to her aisle seat, placing her dog-eared paperback on her knees. The two seats next to her were empty but she liked having the extra legroom that an aisle seat allowed. Whilst she buckled the seatbelt, one of the cabin crew addressed the passengers on the address system. Helen only half listened as she flipped through the worn pages to the right chapter. "Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for your patience. EuroAir apologises for the delay, which was due to French air traffic control conducting an unannounced strike. My name is Anna and I am the Senior Flight Attendant on this flight to Madrid Barajas. Maribel, Carla and Isabella assist me today. We hope you enjoy your flight to Madrid." Helen was already engrossed in her book when a voice whispered in her ear. "So do you feel like a lesbian yet?" Helen turned to see Isabella smiling. "No," she replied. "But I'm willing to learn." "Good. Just sit back and relax." With that, Isabella turned to the passenger opposite and bent over. Helen couldn't stop herself from idly reaching out with her hand and touching Isabella's thigh. The girl didn't react and Helen returned her attention back to her book, feeling the beginnings of that familiar ache her pussy. It was going to be a very long two hours. Terminal Liaison I stood nervously, twisting my fingers together. This was it. After many months it was finally time. My stomach was in knots and my mouth was dry. I wondered if you would recognise me instantly. I had no such thoughts for myself as I knew I would know you instantly. I had seen so many pictures of you. I had seen you on the webcam. You had only seen a few pictures of me. What if I was not what you were expecting? What if you didn't find me attractive in person? What if there was no spark, no chemistry between us? I stopped my thoughts. This is what had kept me from meeting you months ago. It was time. If things did not work out then so be it. It would not be the end of the world. It would be hard and upsetting but I had lived through worse. "Things will be fine," I told myself, willing myself to relax a little. I glanced around the airport and idly watched the other people for a while, every few moments glancing at my watch. You would be here soon. I kept my ears strained for the arrivals announcements. It seemed mere moments later that I heard it. Your plane had landed. You were here. I smoothed my hair down and straightened my clothes. Taking a deep breath I moved forward to the arrivals section to wait for you. The doors opened and people started milling out. Some walked right by while others stopped as they were greeted by family and friends. I scanned the crowd looking for you. Eventually I see you appear. The butterflies in my stomach start fluttering again. I drink in the sight of you while you edge forward not having noticed me yet. I find it hard to believe you are actually there in the flesh after all this time. But there you are. Suddenly you look up and see me. My eyes meet yours. My heart stops for a moment. The world stops. There is just you and me. Everything else fades away. We both stand looking at each other, neither one of us moving. I wasn't sure what you were feeling but I didn't need to worry about the spark on my side of things. My whole body was tingling as I looked into your eyes. You move forward until you are standing directly in front of me. You say my name. Oh, that voice. My heart melts as I hear it. I manage to whisper "Hi." Your arm reaches up and you stroke the side of my face. You smile. Your hands slides through my hair to the nape of my neck and you pull me towards you. You meet me halfway and softly you place a kiss upon on my lips, your lips barely touching mine. You lean up and smile again. "Hey gorgeous," you say and lean back down to kiss me again. This time your lips linger on mine and we share our first real kiss. The tingling throughout my body intensifies. My knees weaken. I spare no thoughts to our surroundings or the people moving around us. All I think, see and feel is you. After a minute you pull away slowly. I open my eyes and look up at you. Your eyes are smiling down at me. I can see the passion in them that I know matches mine. All I wanted was for you to touch me more. Kiss me more. I don't know what came over me at that moment but I grabbed your hand and turned to move quickly away, tugging you along with me. We dodged around people and I kept a tight grip on your hand. You ask where we are going as it is obvious we are moving away from the exit. I turn and just smile wickedly at you never breaking pace. The further we go the quieter it gets. The crowds of people are gone. The loud noises of a busy airport fading. Up ahead are signs and tape shutting off a section of the airport. I ignore these and walk around them. I can sense your confusion fading away and your pace quickens and soon it is you that is pulling me along. We go round a few more corners and eventually come to a secluded spot away from all prying eyes. Your bag is thrown unceremoniously onto the floor and I am pushed against the wall. I gasp and immediately your lips are back on mine. This time all gentleness has gone and in its place is raw passion. My arms move around you and my hands clasp around your neck. Your hands grip my waist and pull me close to you. I shudder as I feel our bodies touch. Your kiss deepens and I feel your tongue pushing its way between my lips. As our tongues dance together your hands move down to my ass and pull me closer still. Already I can feel that you are hard and I move my hips gently, rubbing against you. You groan into my mouth and I feel your fingers digging into my skin through my jeans. We pull away for a moment gasping for breath. Our eyes lock together and the mutual passion is shining from both sets. I feel your hands sliding upwards, tugging the shirt from my jeans and sliding up my back. The touch of your hands on my bare skin makes me shudder. God I had waited so long for your touch and wondered what it would be like. Now, finally, it was happening. Our lips join again, and your hands move around under my shirt to my stomach. As they move upwards I hold my breath and wait. Your fingers trail up my sides, brushing along the edges of my breasts, making me gasp a little. They trail across the top of my breasts, gently teasing my skin. A finger slides under the edge of my bra slightly and teases along. Touching, yet not touching. Tracing a finger down my cleavage, and moving back up and away again. Driving me crazy. Making me want your touch desperately. I pull my mouth away slightly to gasp the word "Please." Asking you. Wanting you. Needing you to touch me. You grin at me and bend to bite my bottom lip. Tugging it gently with your teeth. "What is it you want babes?" you ask me, playing innocent. "Please. Touch me", is all I can manage to utter. Suddenly you grasp the bottom of my shirt and tug it up and over my head. But you stop and leave it twisted around my arms, which you hold above my head. I shiver slightly as the cool air hits my skin. Your gaze moves hungrily over my body. Eyes greedily taking in my breasts encased in their pale blue lace. "Perfect. Just like I knew they would be," you groan. You push me back against the wall. I let out a short gasp as you lean forward and let your tongue slide around my nipple through the lace covering. You grasp it between your teeth and tug on it slightly causing me to moan and arch my back. Leaving one hand high holding my hands high above my head, you glide your other hand down my arm. Moving it along my chest you grab my bra and tug it down over my right breast, freeing it to your gaze. Immediately you move back down and take the nipple into your mouth. You suck it into your mouth and massage my other breast with your hand. I feel the heat burning from my breasts down my stomach to my aching groin. The tingling almost unbearable. I can't stop the moans from escaping my mouth. Back arched. Your hand and mouth on my sensitive breasts already causing my juices to start flowing. I can feel the slight wetness forming and dampening my panties. You move your mouth away for a moment and push my bra up and over my breasts freeing them both to your eyes. After a moment of staring at me you move your head back down and take my left nipple into your mouth. Sucking on it. Grazing it with your teeth. Flicking it with your tongue. Wetting it and then blowing on it softly. The moans keep escaping my mouth as you suck, nibble, and lick my breasts. You kiss your way up my neck and to my ear, tugging on the lobe gently while your free hand glides down my stomach and traces along the top of my jeans. I feel your breath on my ear as you whisper to me. "What is it you want baby?" "You know what I want," I whisper back. "Tell me. Tell me what you want." "Touch me. Please touch me." I almost beg. Your fingers dip under the waist of my jeans. Stroking along my skin to tease me. "Touch you where baby?" you ask. "Don't tease me. I need you. Please." Your hand flattens against my stomach and you slide it down into my jeans. I feel the touch of your fingers slide over the lace of my panties. You glide a finger up and down the lace softly. "Is this where you want me to touch you?" "Oh God yes," I cry. Your finger continues to tease me through the lace. Pushing down a little now. I shudder and sigh, wanting more. You know what I want but continue to tease me. "I can feel how wet you are. And God I am so hard for you. Don't you want to go home and do this in privacy?" you ask me. Giving me the option to back out of this fantasy we had talked about a couple of times on the phone prior to meeting. I open my eyes, having completely forgotten where we were. I glance around. I see an empty airport. No sounds in the near vicinity. No people. I look at you. See the lust in your eyes. Feel your hardness against my hip. Feel the touch of your fingers down my jeans. "I need you now," I whisper. You push your mouth down onto mine hard. Kissing me with all the passion you have in you. I return the kiss feverishly and struggle to free my arms so I can hold you to me. You refuse to let them go and keep them pinned above my head. I groan in frustration. Your hand moves up and opens the fastening on my jeans. You slide the zip down and once again slide your hand inside. This time your hand slides under the lace of my panties. I gasp aloud as I feel your fingers touch me. You gently tease along the length of my pussy. Not sliding them in. Just teasing along the lips. "Oh God please," I beg. You slide your finger past my lips and touch my clit. My body shudders and another moan escapes me. You tease my clit with your fingers. Your knee shoves my legs further apart and you slide your hand down. Your fingers trail down the length of my pussy. You dip two fingers into my wetness and slide them back up to my clit. Teasing me. Stroking me. Making me wetter for you. "Fuck you are so hot baby" I hear you say, as your fingers move down again and suddenly you push two into me. I cry out and my body shudders. You push your fingers deep into my pussy and hold them still. "God you are so wet and tight". Your words are turning me on more. I don't ever remember feeling like this before. Feeling so turned on. Your fingers slide out of me and push back in. You set up a rhythm and fuck me with your fingers. Sliding them in. And out. In and out. Your thumb moves to my clit and I can't take any more. I cry out and push down onto your hand as my orgasm grips me. "Oh yes baby. Come for me" you whisper. My body tenses and I feel your fingers moving faster as I lose control. You kiss me hard on the lips. You move your hand down away from my arms and wrap it around my waist, holding me up. My knees are feeling very weak and I'm glad of the support. Your fingers continue to slide inside me. Your thumb continues rubbing my clit. "God I want you" you say urgently. Finally able to move my hands I toss the shirt to the floor, remove my bra completely and wrap my arms around you, holding you close for a moment. I move a hand between our bodies and grip your hard cock through your pants. "I have to have you now" I tell you. I quickly open your pants and slide my hand inside. Wrapping it around your hot and hard cock I stroke it gently up and down. "I need this inside me. Now." You are only happy to oblige. You push my jeans and panties down my legs and wrap them around your waist. You look around and see a work bench to the side of us. Picking me up you move across to it and lay me down on it. You pull my hips to the edge and pull your cock from your pants. Gripping yourself in your hand you slide it up the length of my wet pussy. The tip teasing, up along my clit and back down. "Please," I beg of you again. Knowing just what I want you slide the tip of your cock to my opening and in one hard quick thrust you push the full length into me. My back arches and I cry out. You hold still inside me. My muscles grip you tightly inside me. Squeezing you. You gasp as I do and lean down to kiss me hard. But you know what I want and you move back up, grab my legs and open them so wide. You slide your cock out of me, pausing when just the tip is still inside. Then hard and fast you push back into me. Unable to help it I cry out again. Sliding all the way out. Pushing all the way back in. Hard. Fast. So deep inside me. I look up and see you watching our bodies move together. I look down and view what you see. Your hard cock sliding into my hot, tight and wet pussy. I see you sliding out. Pushing back in. The sight turns me on even more. I start pushing my hips down to meet your thrusts. You quicken your pace and starting slamming into me hard and fast. Sliding half out and back in. Gripping my hips and pulling me onto you with each push. My head falls back, eyes closed, the moans falling from my mouth. My arms move up and grip the edge of the bench over my head. Harder and harder you push into me. As you lean forward slightly I feel your pelvis grinding on my clit and unable to help myself I cry out and start to lose control again. My juices surrounding your cock still thrusting into me. My body shuddering in its release. Your grip on my hips tightens and you push hard and deep. I hear you groan as I feel your heat start to fill me. I grip you tightly inside me as you come. Holding you deep in me. Squeezing out all you have to give me. Your body shudders and with a soft moan you collapse onto me. My arms and legs wrap tightly around you. Your face nuzzles into my neck. We lay still, catching our breaths. Eventually you lift your head and smile down at me. I grin back and our lips meet in a soft gentle kiss. "It's nice to meet you." you say. I blush and hide my face in your neck. I hear your chuckle. And a squeaking noise. I frown and look around. Suddenly it dawns on me again where we are. Lying naked in an airport! With a squeaking noise that was getting ever closer. As my body tenses you move and seem to hear the noise too. "Think we better make a move, don't you?" you say teasingly. I quickly get dressed, blushing the entire time. Once we are both fully clothed again you grab me and kiss me hard on the lips. "Can't wait for round two" you inform me, making me blush all the more. The wicked grin on your face makes my breath catch. I couldn't wait for round two either. Grabbing your bag in one hand and my hand in the other we walk back into the hustle and bustle of the main airport, passing a cleaner on the way with his squeaky trolley. He eyes us warily as we pass him, but we just smile and keep going. Heading for home. Heading for round two. To be continued... Terminal Liaison Ch. 02 Sitting in the back of the taxi your hand is sliding up along my arm, stroking my skin. I still can't quite believe the effect you are having me. After all those conversations on the internet, all the phone calls, I knew something special was there, but I never expected this. The slightest touch has my entire body tingling. A look from you has my knees going weak. Part of me loved the feelings you evoked in me. Another part was afraid of the intensity of it all. I lean in closer to you and you kiss my forehead. Your hand trails down my arm and passes down onto my leg, fingers lightly stroking my thigh. Even with the denim preventing you from getting to me, my skin is tingling and on fire. Your lips trail along the side of my neck, inching up to my ear. You nibble gently on the lobe as your hand wanders a little further up my leg. Your hand around me is teasing along the side of my breast. Already I am aching for you again. I glance at the driver but he seems to be paying us no attention. His focus centred on the road ahead. Which is a good thing, I think, as your hand creeps ever higher and starts to tease my pussy through the denim of my jeans. I gasp a little and you turn my head to kiss my lips, just as your hand assaults my breast too. Your fingers pinching the nipple through my clothes. I make a weak effort to prise your hands away but I am loving your touch too much to really want you to stop. Your fingers push down harder onto my pussy, making the denim rub on my clit. The friction causes my body to shudder and soft moans to escape. My hand grips the front of your shirt tightly as I try to control myself. You pull your head up and stare into my eyes. "God I am so hard for you again," you mutter. "Are you really?" I ask. I loosen my grip on your shirt and slide my hand downwards. It edges down your stomach and beyond. I stroke my hand over the bulge in your jeans. "So you are," I murmur. "What are you doing?" you gasp. "Returning the favour" I reply as my fingers open the button and slide the zip down. My hand slides inside and I feel your heat through your boxers. I slide my fingers up and down the length. I can feel you getting harder and your breathing quickens. "We can't do this here," you protest. "The driver!" I smile at you. "That didn't stop you did it?" I tease. My hand finds its way inside your boxers and I wrap my hand around your cock. Gripping lightly, I stroke up and down slowly. Your body jerks and you unconsciously move your hips forward making it easier for me. I let my fingers trace over the tip and hear you gasp. "You have to stop. I'm not sure I can take this." You tell me, your voice thick and body tense. My response is to grip you a little tighter and quicken my strokes. "Fuck," I hear you mutter. Your head leans back against the seat and your eyes close. I lean across and trace my lips and tongue along your neck. My hand slides down and lightly brushes across your balls. Cupping them in my hand I squeeze a little before moving back up to your cock. I let my fingers trail lightly up the length. I tease them around your tip. I trail them back down. I grip you again and stroke harder. Your hand moves down and grips my wrist, preventing any more movement. "You are gonna have me coming in my pants if you don't stop" you tell me urgently. I grin at you. I relax my grip around you and just let my fingers tease gently. Glancing out of the car window I notice we are close to home. "Almost there," I tell you. "Thank God for that" you breathe, which makes me giggle. I look forward and notice the taxi driver is staring into his mirror and watching us. His eyes dart to the road on occasion but his attention seems mostly focused on the couple on his back seat. I smile to myself and exaggerate my hand movements. Letting him know just how I am stroking up and down your cock. He adjusts himself in his seat and his eyes follow the movement of my hand. I'm not sure why I was letting him watch. Why I was making more of a show for him. I just knew that I was. I pull your cock completely out into the open and let the driver see exactly what we are doing. I let him see me trailing my fingers over you. I let him watch me stroke the little precum from your tip and slide the moisture down the length of your cock. I let him watch me grip you in my hand as I stroke from base to tip. The car swerves a little and my eyes meet the drivers in the mirror. I look away quickly. What on earth was I doing? Blushing somewhat I take my hand away from you. "I think you should put that away for now" I whisper to you. You look across at me. "Not like the idea of being watched?" You had known! My blush deepens. You grin as you fasten yourself back up. Leaning over you whisper into my ear. "It's okay. It turned me on too." The car stops. "Here we are" the driver tells us. After paying the fare we exit the car and I duck my head and look away embarrassed when the driver gives me a knowing wink. Once inside you grab me again and push me against the wall kissing me hard. Your hands immediately move to the fastening on my jeans. You push them down my legs hastily and kick them away. Grabbing my thigh you lift it up around your waist and grind your groin against me. I can feel the denim of your jeans rubbing against my pussy and it causes me to cry out. "I can't wait. I have to have you now," I hear you say. You open your jeans and pull your cock out, right away grabbing it and rubbing it up along my pussy. "Fuck, you feel so good," you gasp and with one hard thrust push deep into me. My body shudders as I feel your hardness fill me again. You pull me up so both my legs wrap around you and start to fuck me hard and fast. No teasing, no gentleness, just quick pushes into my body, ramming your cock into me again and again. I gasp and moan in your arms, pushing to meet your thrusts. "I can't hold back," you tell me as you push so hard into me it's almost painful. "Then don't," I tell you. "I want to feel your come inside me again." My words seem to push you over the edge and with one hard thrust I feel the heat of your come filling me. Wanting to be with you, I move my hand down quickly and grasp my clit. Flicking it hard and fast, it is only seconds later that I am pushed over the edge too. My body jerks as my orgasm hits me hard. We collapse against the wall, our breathing ragged. My legs drop to the floor but I keep my arms around you, holding on. "Wow," I whisper. "Wow indeed," you reply. You move to kiss me gently. "I think you just might kill me before this weekend is over," you joke. "At least you will go with a smile on your face," I tease back. You grin and kiss me again. I give you a quick tour of the house before showing you to the bathroom to freshen up. As I head back to the bedroom you grab my arm and pull me back to you. "Aren't you going to scrub my back for me?" you ask, motioning to the shower. "I thought I would give you a little recovery time. After all, I don't want to be responsible for your death." I say tongue in cheek. "Hey, who said you were going to get anything more out of me? I just wanted some help cleaning this tired body of mine," you say, acting innocent. "Oh sure you do," I grin, not believing a word, but moving into the bathroom with you. You turn the shower on and turn back to face me. We stand staring at each other. "Come here," you tell me. I move to you obediently and stand before you. Your hands move to my shoulders and you lean down to kiss me softly. Your hands trail up my neck, pushing through my hair and you hold my head as your tongue traces along my lower lip. I sigh softly and as my lips part you gently push your tongue into my mouth. As our tongues dance, your hands slide down my back. Moving them around front you pull my shirt up. We break our kiss as you lift the shirt over my head. You glide a hand across my shoulders; trail your fingers down my cleavage and down my stomach. As you open the fastening on my jeans your other hand has moved around me to open my bra. You slide both off until I am stood before you in my panties. You stare at me and smile. "Definitely better than I could ever imagine," you say. I blush lightly and your smile widens. Hooking your fingers into my panties you tug them down my hips. I feel them slide down my legs and I step out of them. Your hands trail down my arms and take my hands in yours. Your hold them out wide and your eyes move across my body again. "Beautiful," you whisper. My blush deepens. I feel vulnerable standing naked with you fully clothed, so I tug my hands from yours and move them to your shirt, pulling it swiftly up and over your head. I let my hands glide down your chest and stomach. You help me to remove your jeans and boxers until we are both stood naked before each other. You hold your hand out to me, and when I place mine into it you tug me forward and we both move into the shower. The water streams over our bodies as we stand close together. You lean across, pick up the soap and hand it to me. Turning away from me you ask "Are you going to scrub my back for me then?" I laugh. I lather the soap in my hands, place it to one side and move my hands to your back. I stroke my hands up and down your back, lightly massaging. I hear you sigh softly. I move my hands from your shoulders, all the way down your back and move them lightly back up. I lather the soap again in my hands and move around in front of you. I slide my hands along your chest, massaging the soap down your chest and stomach. My hands move down to your hips and then back up. As the water cascades down rinsing away the soap bubbles I lean forward and kiss along your collarbone, letting my tongue trace along your skin. Kissing down your chest as my hands move around and glide down your back. My hands continue down and I massage the soap into your ass. As I listen to your sighs I let my lips trace a path across your chest and I circle my tongue around your nipple. I tug on it gently with my teeth before kissing along to your other nipple and nibbling on that one gently. As my hands continue to massage your back and ass, my mouth moves lower and kisses down your chest. I move onto my knees and move my mouth back to your skin. Gentle teasing kisses down your stomach. My hands slide down past your ass to the back of your thighs. My fingers trailing lightly down them and back up. My lips and tongue move down your hip. I slide one hand around to your front and tease my fingers up the inside of your thigh. My hand finds your cock and I wrap my hand around it. I hear you moan as my hand starts stroking you slowly. I move my mouth to your cock and I dart my tongue out to tease the tip, circling my tongue around it. Then tracing my tongue down the length to the base of your cock and licking back up the underside, and back to the tip. Circling my tongue around once more and dipping it into the slit in the end. Tracing my tongue up and down, tasting a little of your precum. Your hands move down to slide through my hair, holding my head to you. I feel the water pouring down my back, warming my skin. My tongue darts up and down the slit more. I love the taste of you and want more. I hold your cock in my hand and I move my eyes upwards. You are watching me and our eyes meet. As I hold your gaze with mine I take the tip of your cock into my mouth. I suck on it a little, making you gasp, before starting to slide more of your cock into my mouth. Guiding you in with my hand wrapped around the base. My eyes never leave yours as I take you inch by inch into my mouth. I take you deep into my mouth until I feel the tip of your cock pushing against my throat. I start sucking on you slowly. One hand guiding you into my mouth as the other one moves down to tease your balls, squeezing them gently. I hear you groan and your hands grip tighter in my hair. Your head falls back. "Oh fuck baby that feels so good." I take you in and out of my mouth a little faster. Sucking a little harder. Your hands grab my head and you start to push with your hips. Fucking my mouth. Sliding your cock so deep in and back out. Hard and fast. You suddenly stop and pull my head away. As I look up at you confused you say, "You have to stop now or I'm going to cum." "What's wrong with that?" I say grinning up at you, my hand still stroking along your cock. You pull me onto my feet and kiss me hard. "Because I want to be inside you when I do," you tell me. With that you turn me around, facing away from you. The water falls down across my chest and runs down my body. Your mouth moves to the back of my neck and you nibble gently on the skin. You nudge my legs apart with your knee and lean my body forward a little. With one arm around my waist and one on my hips, you slide your cock to my pussy and let it rest there. My hands move to grab the shower rail and I lean forward more for you, pushing my hips back to you, feeling your hard cock sliding against me. Your hand moves from around my waist and to your cock. You guide it to my pussy opening and slide the tip inside. I moan as you hold still a moment before sliding the full length of your cock inside me. With both hands on my hips you start rocking into me, sliding your cock all the way out and back in deep. The moans tumble from my lips as I feel your thickness filling me again and again. "Oh God, fuck me. Fuck me so hard," I gasp. Your hips move faster. You thrust into me harder, faster. Your fingers are digging into my skin as you pull me back with force onto your cock. The water is pounding down onto my back. I grip the shower rail hard, my knuckles turning white. "Oh God, yes," I cry. My pussy contracts around your cock as I lose control and come. Your grip tightens even more and with one final deep push I feel your heat spilling into me. I can feel our juices mingling inside my body. I keep my muscles tightened around you, holding you in me, feeling so full of you. My fingers loosen their grip on the rail. Your hands move in circles on my hips, soothing the red marks caused by your fingers. We both stay still a moment, our bodies remaining locked together, catching our breaths. You pull me upright and hold me tight against your body. Neither of us moves or talks. We just stand letting the water cascade down over our joined bodies. Eventually I shiver and you turn me in your arms. You place a soft kiss on my lips and moving your arm up, turn the shower off. "Let's get you dry," you tell me. We step out of the shower and grab some towels before heading into the bedroom. You take my towel and lovingly dry my body for me, letting the soft material gently massage my aching skin. You slide back the covers on the bed and push me gently down. I lay back and watch you as you dry yourself off. You considerately hang both towels up before joining me in the bed. You lay behind me and wrap your arms tightly around me. We lie there still, curled up under the covers, just enjoying the closeness of each other. You place a butterfly soft kiss on the side of my neck and whisper "Good night my angel." I smile sleepily and snuggle closer to you. "Good night," I whisper softly as my eyes flutter close. To be continued... Terminal Love "Are my dreams and expectations so unrealistic? All I ever wanted was to love and be loved. I put off getting involved in a relationship till I was established in my career, so I could have more to bring to a partnership. I never wanted to be dependent on anyone and wanted to feel I could carry my fair share of the load. I've kept myself in shape for my partner. I've done my best to be the best partner I could be. Now, I get this diagnosis and Pete jumps ship. To top it off, I discover he's maintained an affair our entire marriage, three years of living a lie. I feel like Lady Di. My happily ever after fantasy has been dashed, also. What did I do to deserve this? Oh, Sandy, here you've taken me into your home and now you have to put up with my venting?" "Mandy, what are big sisters for? You've been hit with too many devastating things in so little time. I wish I could take away your pain and see your happy face again. From the time you were a baby you've always been the one to cheer up the family. You don't deserve all this." "And now I'll end up spending the rest of my life alone. I can't believe this is happening to me." "I'll never abandon you, Mandy. You'll never be alone." "You know what I mean, Sandy. Is it too much to expect a partner to stick around for 3-6 months? Pete has the rest of his life to spend with his married trollop. Couldn't he just pretend for this short period of time?" "Mandy, I have no idea what's going on in his mind, but I won't legitimize his choice. Even if he has problems with illness, you don't deserve to be abandoned, and you deserve more than just a partner who pretends." "Sandy, I just feel so lost, alone and empty. Am I so unlovable or unworthy of being loved? I'm only 39; how can I be dying? I'm so confused. Sometimes I wish this cancer was like the others, filled with physical pain. Maybe physical pain would divert my focus away from this overwhelming emotional pain. You've always been the strong one, Sandy. I never was good with pain. Hold me; please make the pain go away." Sandy cradled Mandy in her arms, as they both cried. ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ "Natalie, I sure appreciate being invited over for a home-cooked meal. Cooking a nice meal for myself just isn't worth the effort." "Ed, what are big sisters for? Besides, who else but my little brother is going to bring me fresh homegrown veggies?" "I grow too much for me, and I hate to let it go to waste." "Never fear your crops will go to waste in this house. Grandkids are bottomless pits." "Natalie, you are so lucky to have Chuck, your kids and grandkids to love. I can't believe how difficult it is to find healthy loving partners, anymore. Since I was a teenager, and saw you in love, I've dreamt of finding someone special to love. You glowed when you were young, and I still see that glow when Chuck holds your hand or gives you that special smile. You've always been so happy around him. Though you deserve to be happy, I was jealous of you." "You deserve to be happy, also, Ed. You're probably one of the most loving men I've ever known. I can't believe some woman hasn't grabbed you up, already." "It's not that no one has ever been interested; I'm just not attracted to the ones who show interest. The majority of people are overweight, and I'm not attracted to that. The others, for the most part, have a sense of entitlement. They measure love by how much is provided them, whether that be material possessions or living an extravagant lifestyle. They expect to be provided a life they can't afford to provide themselves. I want a caring partner, not a self-serving dependent. I'm not going to settle, just to be in a relationship. I would rather have a quality relationship with someone who has months to live rather than just tolerate a partner for life. Even just a taste of something like you have with Chuck would nurture me the rest of my days. I only wish quality hadn't been replaced by quantity, when it comes to people's priorities. I figure I'll be spending the rest of my days making the most of my life alone." "Ed, I can't believe there aren't quality women out there." "I believe the same as you, but I believe they've done what I've done, just stopped looking, as it's too painful to keep facing disappointment. There are too many people who make beautiful promises, only to later reveal they're self-serving and everything is conditional. The pain of discovering another deception is excruciating. Dashed hopes are very discouraging and draining. It's hard to find people who have given up, out of disappointment, as they don't make it known they're available. " "I'm going to keep my eyes open for you, Ed. Maybe I'll find the right woman for you." "Natalie, I appreciate your effort and caring, but don't expect me to hold my breath." ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ "Janet, I don't know what to do," said Sandy. "I just want to take away Mandy's pain. I don't want her to spend what little life she has left in emotional agony. She doesn't deserve that." "Sandy, Mandy has always put all her eggs in limited numbers of baskets. She spent many years focusing on work, and then she added Pete to her life. Other than those two things, all she's ever had has been her family. You've expanded your circle of people, so, hopefully you won't ever feel that devastated. I know I appreciate having you as my best friend. Maybe we can put our heads together and find a solution. She wants a man in her life. What can we do to help?" "It's not like we could create a profile for her on a dating site. People on those sites aren't looking for temporary relationships." "Sandy, what if we write an ad and post it on Craigslist. They have a category for miscellaneous romance. I think we could explain ourselves well enough to see if there might be a caring man who can understand the value of quality, as compared to quantity." "I can't tell Mandy about this, as she doesn't need to feel more worthless, just in case we can't find someone special." "OK, Sandy. Let's keep it between us. We'll screen anyone who might reach out, and maybe we could set up a chance meeting, so she'd never know what was done." "No, Janet, she would hate me if I deceived her and did this behind her back. It makes sense to keep it from her, unless we find someone. If we do find someone, I need to tell her exactly what we did." "OK, big sister; you know her best. Let's both write an ad, separately, and then we can take the highlights of both and create the final ad. I hope we can find her someone special." "So do I." --------------------------- "OK, Janet, we've written and rewritten this ad hundreds of times. I think we've finally come up with something that might work. Do you see any other grammar errors or anything we could say more clearly?" "Sandy, I think this is as good as it gets. If this doesn't work, nothing will. Let me read it to you one last time:" Caring, Sensitive Man Wanted For My Beloved, Yet Terminally Ill, Sister My beautiful 39-year-old sister was just diagnosed with terminal cancer. Luckily, this form of cancer won't be painful for her, but when her husband of 3 years found out, he jumped ship. I will always be there for her, but she could use a special male friend to help fill the voids, bring some happiness to her remaining months and help her understand she truly is a beautiful, deserving woman. This is something a sister can't fully do. I will screen any responses and then introduce her to the one I choose. You definitely won't be disappointed in her, but tell me about yourself, so I can choose the best fit for her. After all, who knows her better than her big sister? "Well, Janet, I believe we finally got it short, sweet and to the point. Let's place the ad and hope for the best." The next day, both Sandy and Janet were elated when they saw the number of responses they had received. That is, until they read the responses. Both felt disillusioned. All they got were pictures of penises, or guys bragging how big they were and how they would fill her void, or links to dating sites or porn sites, or guys asking how rich she was. Not one person showed any caring or concern for Mandy. Hoping this batch of emails only came from the Spammers who targeted new ads, they convinced themselves their luck would change. Though there were fewer responses, as the week progressed, the quality didn't change. They ran the ad for a second week, hoping for better results. Unfortunately, the second was no different from the first. When they ran the ad the third week, they agreed they would give up on this option and replace it with something else, if no one could be found. The problem presenting itself was, no matter how much they wracked their brains, they couldn't think of any other option. They knew time was running out for Mandy, and they felt themselves going down with her. Finally, in the middle of the third week, a different response was received. In it, they read: Hi Loving Sister, I realize I'm female, so not what you're seeking, but please read my email in its entirety before deleting it. I feel for you and your sister, and I'm truly sorry her life is being cut short. Being a big sister, myself, I understand our care and concern for our younger siblings. Though I was lucky enough to find a great mate when I was young, my relationship has been a double-edged sword for my younger brother. He was so in awe of the loving relationship I've always had with my husband, he has felt even more disappointment in his inability to find anyone who measured up to that image. I must admit I'm contacting you behind his back, as I care too much for him to get his hopes up and then have them dashed, again. Your sister may not be open to him, as he's much older than she is, but, knowing him, I am convinced she couldn't find someone more caring and compassionate. Let me tell you about Ed. He just turned 60 and has given up on seeking a partner. He told me available women are either overweight or feel a sense of entitlement (expecting handouts), and he has always wanted a partner, not a dependent. He recently shared this with me: "I'm not going to settle, just to be in a relationship. I would rather have a quality relationship with someone who has months to live rather than just tolerate a partner for life. Even just a taste of something like you have with Chuck would nurture me the rest of my days." Ed is a tall, fit, well-educated professional. I think he's very handsome, but I am a bit prejudiced, as I'm his sister. I think my dog is cute, also, but that doesn't mean my dog is your sister's type. I'm attaching a recent picture of him (Ed, not my dog). When Ed isn't at his office, he does volunteer work or cares for his garden. He is very reliable, caring, sensitive, respectful and considerate. I am very proud of him and his accomplishments. I could tell you much more about him, but I need assurance this is real, and he could be considered, before I reveal too much personal information. I guess this is enough of an introduction, so I'll look forward to hearing from you. Please let me know if you decide to pass on this opportunity, so I don't anxiously wait any longer than is necessary. We both want our siblings to be happy. Hopefully, they can find that happiness with each other. Sincerely, Natalie Mason Janet looked at Sandy, while Sandy just gazed thoughtfully into space. After opening the attachment and viewing the photo, Janet said, "I'm impressed. This is the look I'd be attracted to, if I didn't already have Evan, and you can't beat his sister's description of him. What are your thoughts and feelings, Sandy?" "I'm going to meet with him." Sandy immediately set to work writing a response. Hi Natalie, I was so happy to receive your response. I would love to meet with you in person, followed, hopefully, by a meeting with Ed. When can we get together (the sooner the better)? Sincerely, Sandy Putnam Both sisters were so excited, they met for coffee the next day. This resulted in a very comfortable introduction and Natalie's invitation for Sandy to come over the next night for dinner; and she'd make sure Ed would be present. Ed was surprised to find someone other than family present for their family dinner. Natalie introduced Sandy as her friend. The meal went smoothly, and Sandy liked what she saw in Ed. Eventually, she said, "Ed I have to admit I haven't been totally forthright, but I need to tell you the truth. I placed an ad, seeking someone for my sister, and your sister responded." "Hey, Natalie, I don't think Chuck will give you up without a fight," Ed said. This led to laughs all around the table and helped break the ice. Sandy continued to explain, telling him all about Mandy. Ed responded to what Sandy was sharing. "Sandy, I must admit I'm a bit hesitant. I've been on too many blind dates to feel comfortable with this. The friends always start out with 'she's got a great personality,' and then when I meet her, I understand the reason she needs blind dates. I need to consider Mandy's feelings, though, first and foremost. I believe there are probably many men she might better relate to than me. I would find it hard to believe she would reach out to me, if she wasn't being set up." "Don't be so hard on yourself, Ed," said Sandy. "I think you realize compatibility in a relationship has more to do with the people than their hobbies and familiar music or history. I believe she will realize you are exactly what she needs. Even if she doesn't feel immediate chemistry, she'll like what she discovers." "I have to admit your description of Mandy sounds great," said Ed, "but I'm not open to this unless she truly wants me in her life. If this is to happen, though your hearts are in the right place, you two busybodies need to totally back off and respect whatever we decide, with no outside pressure. Would you agree to this?" "Yes," said both Sandy and Natalie, smiling, in unison. ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ The first meeting... "Hi Ed." "Hi Mandy. The last thing either of us probably wanted today was to face the awkwardness of a blind date." "So true. I guess that's the challenge we face in having caring, older sisters. We're going to be happy, whether we want to or not." "Mandy, though our sisters brought us together, I'm not one to push anything on anyone against her wishes. You deserve the right to your choices, no matter what they may be. If you would like to correspond with me through email, or if you want something different, or if you want me to leave you in peace and go back to living my life, I'll respect your wishes. Nothing works for me unless the person I share that with mutually values it. I don't do lopsided, unbalanced relationships. My joy comes from sharing in the joy of others. Nothing I take from another will ever give me any joy." "Mandy, though I care about your feelings, I realize this has to work for both of us, if it's to work for either of us. I admit I was a bit hesitant, when I first heard about you, as I've had too many 'interesting' blind dates. I knew you'd arrive at 5 o'clock, so when you came through the door, I craned my neck, expecting Mandy to walk in behind you. In my mind, there was no way Mandy could be as attractive as you. Though I was drawn in by Sandy's description of you, and you are a sight for sore eyes, this decision is not mine alone to make." "Ed, I was similarly reluctant. Who in their right mind would be interested in stepping into my less than ideal life? Would I want anyone who was either in it for some ulterior motive or had this fascination with death? I know Sandy wants me to be happy, but it's not fair of me to let someone get invested in me, only to find the carpet being pulled out from under him after too short a time. I don't want to hurt anyone." "Mandy, that is one of the main things Sandy shared about you that attracted me. I'm tired of people who just look out for themselves and never bother to see how their choices impact others. It's so rare and precious to connect with someone who truly cares about others. I'm much older than you, Mandy, and I don't want you to settle for less than what you want." "Ed," Mandy laughed, "I'm not aware of any guys trying to break down my door to get at me, but even if there was competition, I can honestly admit you hold your own. When I first heard you were 60, I was taken aback, but I realized it was due to our indoctrination. I remember hearing 'marrying an older guy will only leave you a widow at an age when there are too many women and not enough men.' No one wants to be alone. Then I remembered I would be gone long before you even considered going. The tables were turned. I started thinking maybe you could relate to and deal with death a lot better than someone my age, not that death isn't a shock for anyone, at any age. I opened myself up to get to know you as a person, not as an age, and so far, I like what I hear... and see." "Thank you, Mandy, but I'm not seeking or expecting any commitment from you. As long as you see value in what we share, I will be more than happy to be with you. If you ever tire of me or find someone who suits you better, just show me to the door, and I'll respect your wishes." "Mandy, I told Sandy I wanted a full understanding of your situation, so I wouldn't need to get it from you, as I want you to be able to focus on things within your control, rather than things out of your control. Anytime you feel a desire to talk about things out of your control, I'll be here to listen, but I have no desire to force you to think of things you'd prefer not thinking about. Sandy told me about your cancer. Though I'd prefer being able to spend more time with you, I'll make the most of the time available. At least you won't be feeling any pain, and for that I'm thankful. She shared you are more interested in quality of life than quantity of life, so have turned down the chemotherapy which would have increased your life up to two more months, while making you sick for the entire time remaining. I, too, value quality over quantity, and that is what I look forward to sharing with you. Sandy stressed, though your energy will decline, you aren't fragile, so I'm not to fear physical contact. I gather from her you appreciate and value both emotional and physical intimacy as much as I do." "I didn't realize she shared so much, Ed. Some of that feels a bit embarrassing, but it is better to have it all out in the open rather than stumble over it as time goes on. I realize this isn't what people would consider a normal relationship, but that doesn't mean it can't be just as meaningful. It makes no sense to beat around the bush and take forever to move along, fearful of saying or doing the wrong thing. I sense we are both observant, aware, sensitive and considerate, so though it may feel a bit awkward to progress faster than we may have in the past, I see no reason to drag our feet. I don't want either of us to rush the other, but I see no purpose in holding back, either. We're grown adults, not virgins. We have a good idea what we appreciate, and there's no reason to deny anything that might add to our lives. I trust whatever either of us initiate will be done with both of us in mind. Though it is a little scary to break the rules, not wanting to be negatively judged by society, if I'm going to break the rules, I can't imagine anyone I'd prefer doing it with. I trust you won't get me to care about you and then leave me." "Mandy, I appreciate your trust, but it's also nice knowing you see enough value in me to choose me to share and enjoy your life with. Mutual desire and respect will make everything more meaningful. How would it be if we seal our decision with an embrace?" Ed stood up and offered Mandy his hand. She stood up, and their bodies drew together. Wrapping their arms around each other, Ed was amazed at how well they fit together. She was the ideal height, and her body felt so warm and receptive to his closeness. As he caresses her back, he realized she wasn't wearing a bra. This was an added bonus, as her cute pert breasts didn't even need any support. Mandy looked into Ed's eyes, and their lips connected. Electricity shot through Ed's body. Never before had he ever felt a kiss like that. "Mandy, let's sit down." Once seated, Ed said, "Mandy, I may have to rethink my offer." Terminal Love "Did I do something to displease you, Ed?" "No... just the opposite. I'm afraid if I get many more of those kisses, my heart is going to give out and you'll be left alone, again. Wow!!! How could anyone let you go after experiencing that?" "Ed, have you ever attempted to kiss one of your lips with the other?" "Not really, and not something I feel is possible." "That's right. For a kiss to work, there must be four cooperative lips. Change the equation, and you won't get the same results. That kiss was just as much you as me, so you get 50% of the blame." "Well, I have no idea where I might have picked up the education needed to kiss like that, but I can't begin to describe what it feels like on the receiving end." "Ed, I promise you, if you keel over as a result of one of our kisses, I'll make sure you are decent before anyone views your body." "In that case, I'll reconsider and take you up on your offer, again. It looks like there are a lot of people waiting for tables, so lets free up this table and take a walk." "That sounds wonderful, Ed." Outside, the weather was beautiful. The pre-summer heat was fading as the sun was setting. Ed took Mandy out back and showed her the extensive garden the restaurant had. They walked up and down the rows of crops, and Ed told her all about the different types of plants. As they walked, Ed had his arm around her waist, and when they stopped to explore, he snuggled up against her back with his arms around her waist. "You sure feel good," Ed said. "That's for sure; your touch is reacquainting me with how good it feels to be touched. You're very talented." "Mandy, you know that wasn't what I was saying, but I love knowing we both enjoy touch." "I got hooked on touch when I was a baby, and it became my escape. Some people escape into drugs or alcohol; when I'm stressed, I just close my eyes and gently run my fingers over my sensitive skin." "Would you mind if I take over that job? I love touching." "Ed, I've never met anyone who enjoys touch as much as I do, so I've always had to rely on my own fingers. If you'd like to help out, I'll definitely welcome that. I can't think of a place on my body that doesn't enjoy being touched." "I hope you won't be limiting me to only using fingers." "Mmmm, that sounds luscious." "Not as luscious as the sound of your voice, the feel of your soft skin and the taste of your lips on mine. Let's sit down on this bench, Mandy." "Only if you promise to continue to hold me. I love how attentive and sensual you are." "Mandy, if you keep responding as you do, both in your body movements and the little sounds you make, you may be asking for more than you can handle." "Never! I'd love to see you try to exceed my capacity for touch." "Is that a challenge, you sensual woman?" Leaning in to his ear, Mandy whispered, "Yes," before nibbling on his ear lobe. Once seated on the bench, Ed's arm held her close. She enjoyed feeling him next to her and loved his exploring hand that was caressing the side of her face. "Ed, I can't believe how comfortable I feel with you. I feel like I've always known you, and your touch seems to already know what I like. I'm definitely going to enjoy having you in my life. I don't know how I can thank Sandy enough for helping us meet." With that, she placed a tender little kiss on Ed's lips. "Oh!! You've got dangerous lips, Mandy. Are there any other dangerous parts I need to be aware of?" "I'll leave that up to you to discover," she said with a smile. "Any limits, Mandy?" "At this point in our lives, what's there to gain by placing limits?" "Then let's start discovering," said Ed. Ed let his fingers explore Mandy's head, while she leaned back on the bench and welcomed his touch. Ed could tell by the sensual sounds gently escaping from her lips exactly what types of touch she enjoyed. While appreciating her melodies, he whispered to her, "Sandy failed to tell me you are such a hypnotically sensual musical instrument." "She doesn't know everything about me. I have some secrets I even keep from her," laughed Mandy. "I'm going to be challenged when it comes to my feelings about you, though. I want to shout to the world how happy I feel to have found you, yet I also want to cherish these special feelings just between us." "Just continue to share your beautiful music, and I'll do all in my power to continue to feed your feelings." With that, Ed's hand left her head and caressed her neck. Little shivers shuddered through her body, each one accentuating the smile on her face. Her breathing played harmony to the notes that flowed from her lips. She gazed with deep emotion into Ed's eyes. Ed continued downward, feeling the definition of the muscles of her shoulders and upper arms. She wasn't muscular, but her muscles weren't hidden by fat and were definitely defined. She lost herself in Ed's combination of deep massage and light tender touches. Lowering his hand to her chest, he touched her blouse, molding the material around her form, revealing the beauty of her firm breasts. Looking down, Mandy apologized, "I'm sorry I don't have more to offer in that area." "You feel there needs to be more? Mandy, I love subtleties. Since when is more, better? There is a German proverb that states: 'The greatest wealth is contentment with a little.' Let me see if I feel a need for more." With that, he ran his fingers down the outside of a breast, flowing down and around the bottom. A continuous concert of "Oh, Yi, Ah" flowed from the depths of Mandy's soul. "Mandy, do you honestly believe your breasts would feel better for either of us, if they were larger? Your sensitivity is all I need, for that is what feeds my soul." "OK," Mandy panted, "I accede. If you continue to enjoy what I have, I promise I'll never again want them to be bigger, for I'd never get more pleasure from them than I already am experiencing with you. I love that you're letting me see myself through your eyes, and I love the beauty I see there. Neither of us wants to disappoint the other, but what I see in your eyes tells me I am incapable of disappointing you. I've never felt that before, and I must admit I really like that feeling. I feel the same about you; I don't see how it would be possible for you to disappoint me." "Mandy, I can't believe how happy I feel right now. Having only a little taste of you, I already don't want to let go. I'd love for this to go on forever, but it's getting late, and I'm concerned your sister will be sending the cops out after me." "I didn't realize the time, either. You make time, and all other irrelevant aspects of life, disappear. My mind is racing, attempting to foresee all the joy we will share, yet I don't want to know what will happen before it actually happens. Though we do need to go, I never want this to end. Thank you, Ed. Thank you for opening my eyes to things I never dreamt could exist. I look forward to you teaching me more, and hopefully I'll be able to teach you a thing or two, also. How about one last kiss?" With that, Mandy's lips melted into Ed's, triggering a flow of passion that reverberated through both their bodies. ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ "Well?" asked Sandy. "Well what?" responded Mandy. "You know darned well what. Tell me what's going through that mind of yours." "I was just thinking about Pete, Sandy." "What!! If your evening was so bad, what took you so long to get home?" "I was just wondering what I ever saw in Pete, now I realize how happy I am knowing he'll never be in my life again." "That good?" "No... better... much better... the best." With that, Mandy flew into Sandy's arms, squeezing the breath right out of her. "Sandy, I'll never be able to thank you enough. I don't know how you managed to do it, but you did it... and then some. I'm the luckiest girl in the world to have a big sister like you." Tears flowed from both, though their smiles showed their true meaning. ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ "Hi Natalie, sorry I didn't bring the veggies by the other night. When would you like me to bring them by?" "That bad?" "What bad?" answered Ed. Have I ever given you bad veggies?" "Edward Thomas, stop messing with me and spill the beans." "You want beans, too? OK, I'll add them to your list." "Has anyone ever told you how impossible you are?" "Oh, many times over the past 60 years, my dear big sister." "OK, what do I need to do? "Natalie, after all these years of you drumming it into my head, have you forgotten the magic word?" "OK, Ed, please tell me about your date." "Oh, you want me to bring dates, too?" "Edward, you're driving me crazy!" "But it's so much fun." "I'm going to come over there and squeeze it out of you, you big tease. Tell me about Mandy." "She's perfect." "She's what?" "You heard me big sister. She's an angel. You can't get any more perfect than that." "Really?" "See, that's the reason I don't give you the facts; you don't believe them when I say them." "I believe you; I believe you. I just can't imagine this worked, and you finally have someone you like." "Nope, wrong again, it's gone way beyond like, already." "Ed, get yourself over here, right now." "You want your veggies tonight?" "Ed, you're terrible. I don't know why I love you so much." "Maybe because I keep you on your toes and young." "Are you going to come over here, or do I need to come over there to give my baby brother a big hug?" "I'm coming, Sis." ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ Mandy and Ed were happy they didn't have to play all the courtship games and jump through ridiculous hoops to prove anything. They did what they chose to do, not what they felt needed to be done to impress the other. They couldn't believe how smooth and comfortable their relationship was. They did activities when they felt like doing activities; they went out to eat when they felt like going out to eat; and they pleasured each other when they felt like pleasuring each other. The last item seemed to hold their attention the best. Mandy wanted to keep working as long as possible, as she couldn't picture herself just sitting around waiting for the inevitable. She needed to feel productive and alive. Work schedules limited their time together, but Ed and Mandy definitely made the most of whatever time was available. Ed was conscientious enough to make sure Mandy got the sleep she needed, so always left her by 10pm. ---------------------- One Saturday morning, Sandy asked Mandy what her plans were. "Sandy, I appreciate your understanding. I know you want to spend time with me, and I promise to schedule time for you tomorrow afternoon. I love you and want to be with you, but I adore Ed and need to be with him. He gives me the energy I need to keep going. I know you're torn, as you understand my needs but also want to make the most of whatever time you can share with me. We're both torn, but realize you are very special to me and always in my heart. Ed and I are planning to go to the beach, today. Don't wait up for me, and don't be surprised if I'm not here when you wake in the morning." "Does Ed know about the after beach plans?" "Not yet, but I believe I'm learning how to influence his plans and decisions," she answered with a smile. "Mandy, I know you think of me, and that's all I need. I just want you to be happy and fulfilled, and I can tell Ed is the perfect solution. Though I look forward to being filled in on all the juicy gossip, I am happy for you and don't want you to limit any opportunities with Ed to be with me. We still have our time when he has to work and you are off. I don't need a lot of time from you. I just like knowing we remain connected." "Sandy, there is nothing that could ever disconnect us from each other." "I know. That's what makes you so special to me. Can I help you pack?" "I've got all I need right here," holding up her purse. "OK, I won't ask." "You can do me a big favor, though, Sandy. Could you tell me your thoughts on my new bathing suit?" as she pulled her cover-up over her head." Walking around Mandy, Sandy eyed her from all angles. "OK, Mandy, you want my honest thoughts, I recommend putting your cover-up back on." "Is there something wrong with it?" "No, I just want you to get to the beach in one piece, and that's probably the most distracting suit I've ever seen, not to mention what it's barely covering up. Remember, he has to keep his eyes on the road. Seeing you like this makes it hard for me to continue to see you as my baby sister. You're all woman, girl." "Thanks, Sandy. You're sweet. It sure is nice to truly feel like a woman. I must admit I feel more like a woman than ever before. I've been a daughter, sister, professional and wife, and all felt good, but this is a whole different dimension, and I love it." "And I love how you are glowing. You'll never know how happy it makes me to see you like this, though I admit maybe I'm seeing a bit more than I need to see, so here's your cover-up." After the cover-up returned to Mandy's body, the doorbell rang. "Hi Ed," said Mandy, as she threw her arms around him and gave him a big kiss. "Someone looks happy, today," he smiled. "Is it that obvious?" Mandy asked. "If it were more obvious, it would be front page headline of the New York Times, tomorrow." "Thanks, Ed. You're sweet." "Sandy, I apologize for stealing your sister away from you again, but I can't say I'm sorry for the opportunity. I have a job tomorrow afternoon, so she'll be all yours, then." "Ed, just keep her happy, and I'll place no limits on you." "That's the tough part, Sandy, for every time I attempt to make her happy, she keeps handing it back to me. I'll keep putting forth my best effort, though." "Well, just enjoy yourselves at the beach, and don't rush home." To Mandy, she added, "and remember my warning, little sister." On their way out to the car, Ed asked, "What was Sandy's warning?" "It was nothing, Ed. You know about overprotective older sisters. Let's get going." The drive to the beach was filled with smiles, laughter and tender touches, though, in the back of her mind, Mandy did think of Sandy's warning and did her best to not distract him... too much. The beach was beautiful. Mandy felt like a little kid as she got out of the car and ran to feel the sand between her toes. "Ed, I promised I wouldn't withhold anything from you, yet I didn't tell you about Sandy's warning." As she removed her cover-up, she said, "She told me to not distract you while you were driving." Ed swallowed hard and then asked, "Did she by chance see that bathing suit?" "Ah... yes." "Thank you Sandy; you just saved our lives. Mandy, you look unbelievable. I've had a hint of a very appealing body, but I never anticipated this type of perfection. If I knew that was sitting next to me, I don't think I could have been able to focus on my driving." "And what would you have been focusing on, my dear Ed?" Mandy asked as she sidled up to him and gave him a little kiss. Looking down, she enjoyed the inability of Ed's trunks to hide the truth. The day was ideal. Mandy felt like a kid again, making sand castles, digging for sand crabs, running in and out of the waves and finally just walking hand-in-hand down the beach. She focused intently on everything, as if engraving each experience deep in her mind. They shared stories about beach experiences while growing up. They laughed and played, as if they hadn't a care in the world. As the day progressed, Ed suggested they go to a restaurant and feed their stomachs, though their hearts and souls felt nourished all day. He found a nice beachside restaurant, and they sat down to eat. While eating, they never broke contact. Some body part was always in contact with some part of the other's body. Mandy said, "Ed, I told Sandy not to wait up for me, tonight." "Don't you need your sleep?" "We all need our sleep, but there are many ways to get that sleep." "Did you have something specific in mind, Mandy?" "Tonight, I want to sleep with my lover." "Mandy, I won't ask if you're sure, as I know you'd never suggest anything you didn't feel desirous of and ready for. I'm sure we've both felt voids in our beds, since we entered each other's life. Every night, in bed, all I think about is wanting to hold you close, feel your warmth, inhale your sweet scent, taste your sweet lips, hear your erotic love sounds, and after today, I know the delicious sights I want to see. Mandy, I've had an STD panel run on me, but the lab said the results won't be in till Monday." "Ed, you're so sweet. I know you care, but even if you were contagious, nothing would change for me, plus I can't get pregnant. I have no desire to wait. If you do bring something, it's already a part of you, and I want all of you, no barriers and no limits. Earlier today, I told Sandy I've never before felt more like a woman, and tonight, I want you to make me your woman. I want you to enter me and remain with me. I want you to fill my void. I want to feel your sperm swim through my womb, so I can fantasize about them meeting up with my egg and creating new love. I have nothing but dreams left, and I love your eagerness to partner me in my dreams. Ed, in a way, I say to myself I don't care about reality, but then I realize you are my reality, and I love you. Let's blend the best of reality and fantasy and live a lifetime together. Time and space can only be experienced by comparing it to a static point in time and space. If we don't have that starting point, time and space become infinite, and our love will live forever. All I want is to focus on the moment at hand and enjoy that moment to the fullest. You'll never know how much I appreciate your sharing these moments with me, loving me, fulfilling me and helping me to see beyond the confines that have previously limited my perspective. I've never seen my femininity or love with all the depth and dimensions you've opened my eyes to. You already fill my soul, and tonight I want you to fill my body and hold me in your embrace all night long." "Yes, Mandy. Tonight is ours, no restrictions or limits, just unlimited love. Though I was always jealous of the love Natalie and Chuck have, I now realize their love is a mere shadow of what I feel for you. Never did I imagine connecting with a more perfect woman: your thoughts, your feelings and your delicious physical package. You have freely shared your thoughts and feelings with me, and tonight we will share a physical connection that will take us beyond any limitations of time and space. Though very little was hidden on the beach, today, I look forward to what remains, as I know how eager you are to share yourself with me fully and completely. We'll introduce my little sperm to your inviting egg, creating an entity of love that will endure forever. Every experience we share is engraved in my soul, as I'm sure it's equally engraved in yours, giving these experiences a depth that couldn't be comprehended by others. Thank you for welcoming me into your remarkable love. I feel honored to share the beauty of your life with you." "Mandy, I've come to a realization. I always knew energy couldn't be destroyed, so though the volume of energy may change shape, the whole doesn't diminish. By reducing the X axis, the Y axis can grow. Maybe, when people don't open themselves to that depth, the energy grows on the Z axis, leading their lives to be flat like a pancake. Shortening time just pushes that energy in another direction. It looks like we have the ability to choose what direction that energy goes. When we lose one of our senses, the other senses become heightened. I had no idea the depth that could result from our circumstances. All we had to do was open ourselves up to that depth, and there it was. I don't think unlimited lifespans would allow for people to experience what we experience. It may be people are merely living a diluted form of what we experience. We're the lucky ones; we're the winners. Who wants to live a diluted life, when this can exist? Life would be terrible, if we lived forever. Quality is definitely more valuable than quantity." Terminal Love "Ed, I've never thought about it that way, but when I compare the life I lived to the life I'm living, after a taste of this, I could never go back to what I had, no matter how much time was added. My old life was diluted. I was living that pancake. This is amazing. Without even realizing it, we end up with the grand prize, though I probably would have continued living that pancake if you didn't open my eyes and my mind. You thank me, yet I am the one who is most thankful. It's strange, as in the face of death you have given me a life, and I love this life I'm living. Now we've filled our bellies, let's go home and fill everything else." "Home, my love... to love... for love... for I am in love with the most amazing woman on this earth." The ride home was filled with tender touches, and sweet erotic music from Mandy's lips. "Ed, I never expected anyone could love touching me as much as I love to be touched. Knowing you gain pleasure from that touch makes the touch more meaningful to me. Other than my own fingers and you, I've never felt truly loving touches. I questioned whether men were capable of touching like this, but I now know this one man is beyond capable. Your touch doesn't stop at the surface, and I'm already addicted to it." "Mandy, I can't imagine how you could enjoy this touch more than I do. You are so soft, smooth, warm and responsive. I can't get enough of you." Mandy snuggled against Ed and kissed his arm. When they arrived at Ed's place, he suggested they start with a shower, to get rid of the hidden sand. "Let's leave our suits on, till we're in the shower, so we don't have to waste time cleaning up sand from the floor." They removed their cover-ups and together entered the shower in their suits. Ed put his hands on Mandy's hips and just looked at her, obviously enjoying the close-up sight. "Since you obviously are enjoying the sight, how would it be if I make a slight adjustment to my bikini top?" Mandy offered, while sliding the tiny pieces of material outward and revealing her erect nipples. "Now that's what makes the sundae, the cherry on top," Ed added with a smile. He hugged her closely, while she enjoyed his roaming hands. "Ed, I love the way you pay attention to all of me, not just focusing on body parts. This is new for me, so help me to understand your thoughts and feelings." "Mandy, I can't see limiting myself to a narrow geographic area. My touch isn't about sex, but about enjoying your sensual responses. Your sweet songs invite me to various locations. How can I ignore your cheek or neck or shoulders or back or any other part of you, which sing those sweet siren songs? You lure me in, and I can't escape, not that I'd ever want to. How would you enjoy a symphony, if all the instruments were limited to only playing the same two notes? I love the melodies, the harmonies and the interplay between them. Though I love these inviting nipples, I could never live on a diet of only one food. You have so many unique delicacies built right into you; you're like a buffet created by the best chefs in the world. My challenge is determining what I want to taste first." "Then let me give you more to choose from." She then proceeded to untie both her top and bottom strings, sharing her complete beauty with Ed. She smiled in enjoyment as he salivated over the gift. For the first time in her life, she actually saw what she had to offer as a gift... a special gift for a special love. Though Ed enjoyed the sight, he found himself distracted by the feel of sand under his feet. He was shocked when he looked down. "How in the world did that much sand hide in that little bikini?" "Maybe I'll need some help to make sure it's all removed," she grinned. Ed took the hand-held shower massager and cleared the sand from her hair and any other possible hiding place. He liked when she decided to help by bending over and touching her toes. "Ed, something's not right." "And what might that be?" Ed questioned. She stared at his trunks, and he realized he was so engrossed in her he forgot to take them off. "Fair is fair," she stated, so off came his trunks, revealing how much she was truly being appreciated. She knew he couldn't see her arousal in the shower, so she threw her arms around him and kissed him passionately. She just loved being loved by Ed. When they got around to actually washing each other, all they used was soap. They wanted to feel their entire partner, and didn't need washcloths getting between them. Mandy had always found having her hair washed at the beauty salon to be very relaxing, yet she had no idea how sensual a hair washing could be. She couldn't believe she was 39-years-old and still learning simple basics about her own body. Here was Ed suckling her shoulder, and she never realized shoulders could be suckled, yet alone how wonderful it could feel. "Ed, I'd love for this to go on forever, but this water is starting to approach ocean temperature. I need to get warmed up. Have any ideas how that can be accomplished?" The water stopped flowing, and she found herself enveloped by Ed's toned muscles. "Ed, It's nice being small and being able to lose myself in all this deliciousness." "Small packages are the best," he responded. They exited the shower, and Ed led Mandy into the bedroom. He took out a blow dryer and warmed her skin. He attempted to dry the skin between her legs, but that proved to be a fruitless challenge. Taking his hand with the blow dryer, she turned the hot air toward his evident desire. "Let's not waste our time on the impossible. Maybe you'll think of other ways to plug the leak," she sweetly said. Ed sat Mandy on a comfortable chair and covered her with a blanket, not so much for the warmth, but to keep him from being distracted. He then blow-dried her hair. She was in heaven, loving his tender pampering. When her hair was dry, he placed a light kiss on her lips. "Care to move to the next step?" asked Ed. "And what might that be?" Mandy innocently questioned. "I forgot to check Mapquest, so I guess I'll just have to play it by ear." Mandy threw off the blanket and was quickly back in Ed's arms. He took her to the bed, pulled down the covers and lay her down. "This is cold. Do you have any way of warming me?" Ed got in the bed, determining to see if body heat might solve the problem.... It did. They loved the unimpeded contact, exploring, using all parts of their body, to discover what everything felt like. Mandy never knew what would be touched next, so each contact was a pleasant surprise, triggering uncontrollable, yet very pleasurable responses. Though she expected to sheath Ed, she found herself sheathed by his arms, legs and love. This definitely was more than sex, and she loved every sensation. She couldn't imagine feeling more desired or desirable. They continued their kissing and touching, with neither being able to determine who was giving and who was receiving. There were no limits to the depth of this love. "Ed, your love blankets my exterior. Though I feel your energy flowing through me, I need you to fill me. As my arms hug my man, I want my engorged lips to hug his manhood." Lying on his side, he faced Mandy, while his eyes wandered over her perfection. His hand ran down from her shoulder to her hip, while he watched her jump and squeal each time he transitioned to a new area. He pampered a sensitive breast, and her smile showed she enjoyed everything. "Mandy, I'm having a problem." "What?" she asked confusedly. "More than anything I want to pleasure you, but every time I do something, you reciprocate tenfold. I'm afraid I'm receiving more than I'm capable of giving. Your sensuality is a totally unexpected gift. As I caress your breasts, I'm feeling nurtured. They feel so good. Let me kiss them and see if that makes a difference." This merely resulted in Mandy's love symphony crescendoing, and she held him tighter. Ed pulled away, slightly, so he could watch Mandy, again. His hips moved toward hers, and she lifted her top leg. Ed's manhood seemed to home in on his destination. Without any awkward pokes or prods, his unseeing aim split her slick lips. He looked into her eyes as he slowly slid upward, ever upward. The look on her face was indescribable, yet priceless. Her snugness slowed the forward progress, though her lubrication made it very pleasurable for both. As her muscles relaxed, he inched deeper within her. When the end of his shaft finally made contact with her clit, her muscles contracted around his penis, as if she never wanted to let go. They hugged, and Ed could feel Mandy's tears of joy flowing down her cheeks. She kissed him lovingly and graciously thanked him through her tears. She rolled him on top of her, wanting to feel the weight of his masculinity blanketing her. He started to stroke, and she wrapped her legs around him. That was all it took for her first orgasm to pulsate through her body. Their lips and hands couldn't stop touching, and now she felt his desire seeking out her hidden treasures. Lost in the sensations, words couldn't come to their brains; yet alone leave their lips. He started stroking to one side and then the other, making sure no area was overlooked. Rolling her over on top of him, she sat up and gave him a show. She massaged her breasts, tweaking her nipples, while he massaged her clit. All the while, she rode up and down on his firm shaft. She smiled so sweetly, until her next orgasm grabbed at her innards. Ed loved watching her lose control, especially knowing she trusted him and wanted to share this with him. Mandy lay down on Ed, while hugging and kissing him. Wanting him back on top, she rolled them over. She couldn't feel more fully satisfied. Matching Ed's rhythm with her legs wrapped around him, Ed finally reached his point of no return. As she felt his sperm spurting into her, tears flowed from her eyes. "Welcome little ones. Swim quickly along my plentiful stream and meet my seed of love. Eager to greet you and hold you close, she wants your essence to blend with hers, so she can grow and live forever. Make our unique love a love for all time, a love that will touch everyone we hold dear, spreading this special love from one to another till time itself is gone." "My beautiful Mandy, my beautiful love, you satisfy my deepest essence. I eagerly fertilize your seed of love, for that seed provides you with immortality. Your love will never cease, and all who encounter it will feel you and know you and love you. I love you Mandy, with a love that exceeds my wildest dreams. I fill your womb, as you fill my heart." Holding her tightly and passionately kissing her, Ed thrust 3 more times, triggering an unexpected explosion from deep within Mandy. "Ed," she screamed, as her energy pulsated out of her body. When her last vibration faded, she rolled on her side and whispered, "Ed, my love, you have filled me fuller than I ever imagined possible. I wish I had the energy to keep up with you, but I'm finding myself fading. Please stay inside me and hold me till I fall asleep." "Sweet dreams, my love," whispered Ed. ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ Their relationship continued to grow deeper, though they couldn't believe that could be possible. They were as active as Mandy could handle. Along with their constant sharing of love, they found they preferred sharing the subtleties of nature over the extremes most people gravitated toward. They escaped to the desert or the mountains or various gardens. One of their favorite trips led to their discovery of a large, secluded waterfall in the wilderness area of the local national forest. They were both in awe when they encountered it. "Ed, this place is so filled with beauty, energy and comfort. This is where I want to rest. When my body is but a shell, please scatter my ashes here. I want to be part of this beautiful energy, triggering smiles in all who experience it." "Mandy, when the time comes, I promise I'll return you to this beautiful place, for beauty like yours deserves beauty like this." ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ As time progressed, Mandy grew weaker. She slept more and found herself limited in leaving her home. Sandy took leave from her work, as her job had a very generous family leave program. Ed's job wasn't as generous, but he also took leave, 2 weeks later. Both Sandy and Ed wanted to be with Mandy as much as possible. Mandy loved that Ed continued to touch her and comfort her. Though she didn't have the energy to have sex, she enjoyed feeling Ed's nude body against hers. He regularly undressed her and then crawled into bed with her. That always brought a smile to her face. Sometimes she would surprise Ed by exposing her breasts to him, knowing he loved looking at them and touching them. She would even ask him to masturbate and ejaculate on her breasts, after which she would massage her breasts, working his sperm into her skin. "Mine, all mine," she would weakly whisper. While Mandy slept, Ed and Sandy would sit and talk. Ed wanted to know all about Mandy as a child, and Sandy shared both the sweet, playful moments and the devilish, annoying moments. They shared many laughs and cries. Though Mandy enjoyed her one-on-one times with both Sandy and Ed, she also enjoyed when they visited her together. Ed taught Sandy how Mandy loved to be touched, and they would each take one of her arms and soothingly touch her. They regularly brushed her hair and even gave her full body caressing. Their touch always brought a smile to her face. One day, Sandy and Ed each held and caressed one of Mandy's hands. As firmly as she could, Mandy took hold of their hands, brought them together and held them to her heart. Struggling out a whisper, she said, "Parents propagate, not focused on any ending, but on their continuation. As long as love exists, there is no end, just beginnings and continuations. Through you, I will live forever. My dreams, hopes and love will thrive and prosper. Love, my loves. Don't mourn me, for I continue to live within you. Live me in your love. For me and for you, please cherish each other, share comfort, nurturance, pleasure and love. You are the two I understand and love the most. You are perfect for each other. Please help my love continue. Love me by loving each other. Your choices determine whether I was merely a spot to be crossed and forgotten or a participant in life's journey. Take me with you my loves, and live well." The talking exhausted Mandy, and soon she was sleeping. Sandy and Ed didn't know what to make of what she had said. She was asking them to become a couple, yet this seemed so foreign. It's not something either had even thought about. They started to feel awkwardness between them that didn't previously exist. They still forced themselves to talk about Mandy, though. While sleeping, Mandy started to tense up and shake. Sandy and Ed would each touch her and soothe her, until her sleep returned to normal. They found it strange she would start having nightmares at this point. At least one of them was with Mandy, at all times. Whenever she was awake, both would be present. Mandy started having looks of desperation when she was awake. They felt little tugs on their hands, as they comforted her. In a begging voice, she would say, "Please." Ed assured her they would always be there for her, but this just seemed to frustrate her more. Sandy and Ed talked while Mandy slept. They sensed she was holding on for some reason. Ed said, "Sandy, we need to let her know it's OK to let go. She just seems to be suffering, and it's breaking my heart." "Ed, we know what's bothering her. She's convinced herself she'll die and be forgotten if her love won't continue between us." "How can I think of something like that when I love her so much?" Ed sobbed. "Ed, I promise not to hold you to anything, but we have to let her go in peace." "I don't know; I can't think straight," Ed continued to sob. Sandy held Ed, until he cried himself out. "Thank you, Sandy. You and Mandy are very special people, and I don't know what I've done to deserve your kindness and Mandy's love." "Ed, I've known Mandy a lot longer than you, and I can guaranty she would never share the type of love she's shared with you, if she didn't feel you deserved it. We're both in pain, but we need to put that pain aside and truly be here for her." "I know, Sandy, but I've never lied to her, and I can't think straight enough, right now, to consider anything other than her. I don't know how to think beyond her. It has nothing to do with you, Sandy. I'll do what I need to do, though." The next time Mandy woke, Sandy and Ed spoke to her. "Mandy, you've been the best sister a girl could ever have. You've brought so much joy to my life. I always loved you, even when you were being a pest. You've always wanted me to be happy, just as I've wanted happiness for you. You can't imagine how happy I felt when you and Ed connected. Your joy was contagious and you helped me through the roughest time in my life. You've paid your dues and deserve to rest." Ed continued, "Mandy, though I thought I knew what I was seeking, I never really knew love till you came into my life. Your playfulness energized my life, and your love has been exquisite. You brought complete happiness and fulfillment to my life. I am a new man as a result of you. You will always be in my heart. Mandy, you have brought so much joy to Sandy's life and to my life. You have done more than your share and I only want peace and tranquility for you." Looking at Sandy, Mandy begged, "Please." "Yes, Mandy, I promise to do all in my power to keep your love alive and healthy." Looking at Ed, Mandy begged, "Please." Ed reached across Mandy and took Sandy's hand. "Yes, Mandy, I promise too. Your love will continue." They each continued to hold hands, as they lifted Mandy's hands and gently placed a loving kiss on each. A smile came to Mandy's face, as tears welled up in her eyes. Ed and Sandy leaned over and kissed the tears on Mandy's cheeks, tasting the sweet saltiness. Mandy's breathing calmed and slowed, till it finally stopped. The smile remained on her face. Sandy crossed over to Ed's side of the bed, and they cried in each other's arms, sad for their loss, but happy Mandy was finally at peace. ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ That Saturday, Sandy and Ed hiked in to the waterfall. It was the first time Sandy had seen the waterfall, but upon seeing it, she understood the reason Mandy chose that place. They stood on the bluff overlooking the falls. Taking the urn with Mandy's ashes, they split them up and tossed them into the breeze. Looking through the spray of the waterfall, Ed felt he could see Mandy smiling from the mist. He yelled out, "Mandy, I love you." Sandy said, "Mandy only this place can come close to your beauty, and your presence here will nurture this natural wonder till the end of time. Be in peace, my sister." Ed looked down and noticed Sandy's hand in his. He gave it a reassuring squeeze before embracing her, sharing in the loss of the greatest love they ever knew. ********************** I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. I did not wish to live what was not life, living is so dear; nor did I wish to practise resignation, unless it was quite necessary. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life... Henry David Thoreau -- "Walden" (1854) Terminal Point "All sins tend to be addictive; the terminal point of addiction is damnation." -- W. H. Auden * * * "Is this what you want to do?" Once his cum erupted deep within her she fingered and gripped at her cunt and with that all his tautness fled from his body. There was a dull sigh, carried away by the desert wind, as the orgasm peaked and faded. She paused. There were still sweat stains and tear marks that she had been carrying with her all that day, mixed in with what was happening right at that moment, but she didn't care. She wanted to keep feeling that sensation -- of where he had licked her, of where he had even tried to bite her. More cum clung to her hair, her lashes, her chin. Her swollen nipples looked as hard as his cock had just felt a few moments ago. Her left hand was still between her parted legs, as she squatted above him, looking down at him, peering into his upturned face, trying to see if anything visible had changed now that she had just climaxed and all the while her fingers moved across her clit in slow, lazy circles. "Yes, this is what you wanted to do, isn't it?" Sex, they say, changes everything. The desert had never flooded the way she was feeling right then. She was fucking Niagara Falls, which she had seen once, right after a heavy ice flow. Already she could feel him softening inside her, little by little, as his blood-shot eyes rolled up in his skull, as she listened to his rhythmic, labored breathing, a creaking noise deep in his throat as if he were trying to talk. Was this the best that he could manage right at that moment? Pillow talk was definitely a dying art. What was it with the 19th century? If science could invent penicillin, she reasoned, couldn't it do something about post-coital conversations? Then, again, she hadn't fucked him for his witty bon mot. She shifted her ass, trying to get more comfortable, and in doing so felt his limp cock plop out of her, lay cooling against his own thigh. So that was that, it would not rise again. Sort of like the South, in that regard. Let Appomattox be a syphilitic metaphor for Johnny Reb putting his cock somewhere it didn't belong and all the maladies that weak-willed men reap upon themselves when avarice, greed and rapacity whisper in their souls. She had read that the first well-documented outbreak of syphilis had occurred less than four-hundred odd years ago, in 1494, afflicting one Bertholmeu le Jandre, a French soldier stationed at Chastenay, and that "the disease transformed his body, its pustules covering him from the head to knee, causing the flesh to fall from his face, leading to death within months." Wasn't that what the whole so-called Confederate States of America had been suffering from? A form of syphilis no Northern government could cure? The terminal point of all those dark, selfish desires that had run rabid through the Antebellum South? Perhaps. She could tell by his accent that this bit of mortal clay hailed from somewhere southeasterly of the Mason-Dixon line and so it naturally got her thinking. She had been thinking a lot of late. When one has left home and has no idea where to go then thinking comes easy. She had been thinking as her wagon swayed over the hill and the mask on her face slipped a little -- what a friggin' pain in the ass! -- getting grit and Arizona alkali dust underneath into the deep fleshy purple parts. She groaned. She could either stop the wagon, go into the back and look for a salve, or keep going. She rubbed her knees together under her calico dress in irritation. She knew where the salve was, under the frying pan. She knew that because it was where she had flung it during the last time this happened. Biblical lepers didn't get as much grit under their skin as she did. She hated grit. It got ... everywhere, except inside her wagon. She made sure of that. She needed the illusion of cleanliness for her trade. Anyone entering would see that the floor of the wagon was beautifully carpeted with an ancient tapestry taken from the looms of pre-Christian Armenia. It was a house divided so that the far end comprised a little hidden berth, the suggestion of a nun's cloistered pleasure-garden, or, if the customer had never seen a nun, then perhaps it reminded him of the bunks aboard an Orkney dory or a Chinese junk. A customer could almost make out the silhouette of a bed, draped, like the four cheery windows, with splendid green and gold and red veils. The fore part of the wagon functioned as a kitchen, a girl had to eat somewhere. It was fitted up with a stove, the sort whose tin-pipe chimney passed through the roof in a crooked, jaunty manner. In theory, the stove was built to burn coal, but out here dried buffalo dung also worked and had the advantage of being free. The small space also contained a larder, several bound chests, a great pitcher of water with a lead stopper to prevent spilling and a few cooking-knives, kettles and pots. These latter indispensables were hung upon the wall on a curious cork-board all of her own design that allowed them to sway in unison as the wagon crested every rise in the hills and hit each pothole in the prairie, bouncing around like pendulums on an armless clock or great bullgod testicles set between the thighs of the most flaccid of all eunuchs. Fucking grit. She decided to keep going. Irritating, though the itch was, she did not think stopping would solve anything. Scratching at it just made things worse. No, better to gaze steadily ahead and ignore the itch. Twenty minutes later she had officially stopped for the night, ransacked the kitchen until she had found the tube of pink, foul-smelling ointment. Bless the Chinese and all their medicine, she thought as she lathered it across her face, feeling the cool blunt chill sink deep down into her infected jaw, numbing everything it touched. Why couldn't life be more like this? Numb. That's all she really wanted. Well, yes, numb but with the ability to still feel pleasure. She wasn't going to give that up when it came her way. Pleasure. It was a glorious, glorious word to say on a glorious, glorious night. It was a black, moonless sky; a sky made to create fear in the heart of mortals. Fear and pleasure. She sat on the little back porch of her wagon and stared up into the cosmos. Her wagon brought her pleasure. It was less a wagon, really, and more a cottage on four massive wheels. Brass brackets supported the fabric and the walls were highly decorated with ornate scroll work and carvings taken from The Song of Songs, rude figures running around the length of the wagon. Didn't they always? She listened for signs of life. Not even the soft sigh of the wind greeted her ear. The vaulting heavens, a great, incomprehensible dome, seemed within the touch of her hand. Didn't it always? All she needed to do was stretch a little bit more. Instead, she dropped to the ground, letting the day-hot sand burn its way into her toes, her curved nails, the flat pads of her feet. It tickled, but not in a bad way. She took a step forward, the sand grinding beneath her. Another step and then another. Wasn't this what life was all about? These sensations; primal as salt motes pressing against the soles of her feet. There was great joy in just being able to move her toes about. She moved forward across the sand, maskless, naked, her breasts swaying, the wild fire hedge of her crotch ablaze, the great yew-boles of her ass cheeks rising and falling as she moved, all her flesh shivering and glittering as the day's sweat evaporated, leaving behind dozens of secret, salt-dried tracks, as if snails had crawled hither and yon across her body. They say the only light in a desert at night are shooting stars and scorpions feeding upon their young. But scorpions are not the only bodies that know how to glow when the moon does show its face. She stood still in her tracks, listening once more to the oppressive silence. She was alone on the high plains, alone in the great world, the last living heart beating in a million years of stone. "God damn it!" a voice croaked, breaking the spell. Then, "I say, howdy, woman! Got any wet?" The voice appeared to have erupted down at her feet, like a gnawer suddenly thrusting its snout out from the hot sand. "Heh. Got thrown this morning. The mare but kicked me a good one right before she left. Been crawling all day. Strike me a match, will you? God damn, but it's dark!" The wind stirred, billowed around her calico dress, betraying her long, brown naked legs for a moment, before the hems fluttered down, pale moths settling in for the night. Slowly she turned, the balls of her heels making grit-grinding noises as she did so. An eerie sound. She put out a careful toe toward the direction of the voice. As she approached there came a strained groan. "Careful, woman ... ow-ah, my leg! Akh, why in bloody blazes don't you strike a match?" She produced a match for his benefit and struck it. His femur was undoubtedly broken. It jutted out under the dark of his trousers in ways the human anatomy was never meant to go. He lay on his back. His track marks, made while crawling through the Arizona dust, stood out and stretched into the dark. She let the match burn down to its nib as he stared at her. When it died in her fingers she struck another. "I'm ... I'm grateful to be seeing you, gal. Haven't seen any soul all day long." At first she hoped he would say something about her outlandish appearance, her calico dress, her mask. If, for no other reason, that it would allow her to know where the two of them stood. Even sailors could recognize a plague ship from far away. But these desert ones never did, by the time she found them they almost always were too far gone to worry about little things like masks and dresses and alien skin. She stared at him. He wasn't old, though after a day in the sun he looked old: desiccated, atrophied, bleached. She didn't like the drawn, skull-like face, nor the clots of salt-dried saliva at the corners of his open, cracked mouth. "We have to do something about your leg," she said. "Go ahead, gal. I tried it this morning ... but the broke is too bad. Any drink?" Immediately she bent down, her thighs akimbo, the fabric of her dress billowing outward to distract him long enough and, with fingers of a surgeon, she reset the bone with a soft crunching noise. He did not scream, despite the white-hot pain, despite the sudden image of the wild hedgerow of her cunt. Then what was left of his humanity reached up through the chaos of his skull and squeezed, causing him to pass out. Even while she gazed at him lapsing into unconsciousness she wondered whether she first should have asked the one question that was burning away inside her. She decided it could wait until he woke up. The night was long. She wandered back to her wagon and waited. "What's your name, Metzora?" It was later. He had been awake for half an hour, silent, as if he had found that his tongue had been cut out or broken, or that his speech was now garbled and was sulking because of it. Perhaps it was desert fever, or perhaps, with the resetting of the bone, something else had edged its way inside of him? Perhaps. That stare, as she had caught his eye in the starlight, clung to her. She didn't feel right about being looked in such a way. Not tonight. While he had slept she got up and retraced his path in the tense quiet of the night, walking along its inkiness, its burdensomeness. She found the scuffed ground where he had been thrown, found a ripped jacket and then a missing boot. A person could learn a lot from a missing boot. Now she rolled his jacket into a ball and placed it beneath his head. Then she stepped away. "So ... are you from Richmond, Montgomery or Chattanooga?" she finally inquired. She heard his head grind against the leather and sand, turning toward her in the dark, his eyes trying to pierce the night to find hers. The reply came in a voice granite-like and dried out. "Chattanooga, gal. Chattanooga." That was a lie. Call it an instinct, perhaps it was, but she knew it was a lie. No one would admit to being from Chattanooga. The dirt of Arizona made a person say crazy things. "How long have you been out here?" he asked. Tomorrow there would be buzzards. Probably at dawn, when they rose into the air currents and went out to spy for carrion. That's what he would be: evil meat under a rotting sun. She smiled in the dark. Maybe there were better ways of doing this -- this work of hers -- but no one had suggested them to her, yet. Even the owner of an abattoir knew it was better to ply a trade honestly than be one of the miserable souls who sit in saloons and drink and dream of greater things to come. Greater things never come unless a person went out looking for them, and usually then it was only a handful of pyrite, a mouthful of gut-rot rye and a watery orgasm at the end of a weak-wristed fuck. "I'll tell you why I'm out here, gal." Confession. As if she had traveled all this distance to listen to what a broken, scruffy man who had not bathed in two-and-a-half months wanted to get off his chest. Probably body lice. He was, predictable, thinking he was about to spill his terrible wisdom or secret that he had read in some Louisa May Alcott page turner. "Have you ever loved a boy so much that you had to up and leave him? Ever felt a crazy love that made you quit your home because it hurt you so much? Naw, of course not, women-folk never leave, they just cause others to leave for their sake." She rolled her eyes. The only thing more irritating than a romantically inclined Confederate officer with ideas about women was a romantically inclined Confederate officer who talked of his ideas about women. Her foot itched to kick him, instead she spoke. "Why do you say that?" "I say it because I know! Have you ever loved someone so much you had to run away from him? Run away to some evil inferno like this so you'd never ever have to see another soul who looked like him? Ever need to erase from your life everything about him? His smile, his eyes, his hair, his voice, his ... his goddamn soul? Yes, his soul! Think what that means!" She liked him better when he had been a half-dead, silent vagabond buried in the dirt. She tried to discern his features in the dark; a mass of combed and oiled red hair, now caked in salt dust, an unshaven jaw, a waxy beard that at one time had been a fashionable Vandyke. How old was he? 30? 45? Impossible to tell. "Where are you heading?" he finally asked when it was clear she was not going to comment. She shrugged her shoulders and took a few steps away. Where, indeed? "Well, neither of us are going anywhere fast," he replied. "Especially a whore who just saved a sinner from the desert." "Whore?" "That's what you are, ain't it? That wagon of yours? That shameless way you dress?" She wheeled in the dark and crouched down beside him. Ghouls were constantly making her angry, she found. Even their ideas of tenderness were rough and unrefined. She wondered what the dawn would bring and forced herself to relax. She sighed. It was apparent that they would remain together all night, at least until daybreak. Then something would be done ... the same sort of thing that she always did in situations like these. "I say, gal?" he was trying to make small talk again, unnerved by her silence and the way she loomed over him in the dark, "you want to know what brought me to this godless land? I can't tell you that, because I don't know. But ... but there seems to be something in me ... something pushing me forward. It's like a sickness." He reached out a hand in the dark to know that she was still close beside him but she moved silently away and his fingers grasped only air and dirt. "Come on, gal, don't just sit there. Talk to me. I want to hear stories about back home." "Home?" She sat in the sand, drew her knees up and wrapped her arms around them, listening to his labored breathing. "Home." She didn't answer him right away. Slowly, reluctantly, her thoughts slipped back to a dark, little village down in the border shadowland where the streets were all dirt and and lined with witch hazel and twisted oaks, the huts all crude and ugly. Before she could shut the memory out it came, tumbling back, falling down upon her, as it always did, when she was exhausted and tired from a long day in the wagon. It stood before her now, as it did back on that last night when pleasure was still pleasurable. This time, though, she could sense that something was wrong and her voice fell away into silence ... she had loved it. She would always love it. To make it happy was what she wanted more than anything. She believed that she had kissed it one last time and then stood and left the village. But that memory was a blur with no edges. She couldn't be sure. He was right. She had run away just so that she would never have to see another soul who looked like it did on that night. If that was even possible. For two years she slipped from mining camp to logging camp, from border town to railroad depot. Anywhere saloons and brothels flourished in Arizona. Now here, tonight, under a black, disconsolated sky, she was pondering it all. For a moment she thought she would tell him. Why not? Did it matter? He would keep her secrets. Peering closer, though, she could not hear his breathing nor see his chest move up and down in the iron-blue dark. Had death already overtaken him? She nudged him with the tip of one toenail. Dawn was upon them. She saw the first rays break over the far range; creep farther and farther down into the lost, little valley, throwing its thin gold-pinkness over the landscape, sending shadows slinking off here and there ahead of the light. She arose, walked about the humpy-lump at her feet. She gazed at him long and earnestly. His hair had fallen away from his broad, clear forehead. His eyes were open, roving, unable to focus on anything, his cheeks already shrunken, making his incisors seem larger than they actually were. Around his mouth was dried foam, pinkish from some deep internal bleeding. As she gazed, the faintest smile began to play about her lips under her mask. She wondered if he knew? if he knew that his troubles were at an end? Far above them two great turkey buzzards circled round and round, faded into the early morning haze. From a neighboring hill a hare appeared, quivering with movement, then bounded away. The transformation had begun. Or maybe the transformation had started in the dark the moment he had called out to her and he just didn't know his own cells and DNA well enough to suspect anything was amiss? Everyone knew viruses could sleep in a host for years, waiting for that right combination of fear, or maybe pleasure, that would allow everything to erupt, corrupt, spread outwards. It took more than a guilty conscious to make a ghoul. "The disease transformed the body, its pustules covered the flesh from the head to knee, causing the flesh to fall from people's faces." What did that first French soldier think when the transformation took hold of him? That this was a curse from some angry god who hated sex? Why was it that history recorded Bertholmeu le Jandre's name but not the name of he or she who he passed his curse on to? That was the whole problem with the infected, wasn't it? Perhaps the alkali in their blood simply made them crazy, that it didn't matter to them what the outcome was going to be, even when the evidence of what they were doing was right there in front of them? Even if it killed everyone around them. Even if it killed themselves in the end. Was he infected? Of course, nothing else would explain his actions. Crazy actions. Crawling around in the dirt all day with a broken leg. That even now, at the edge, he wanted her. Maybe in the dark he just convinced himself that her naked body was ... something else? That when she first slipped her calico dress down around her shoulders, exposing her breasts for the first time, then slipped her mask off, that this was just heat exhaustion and dehydration playing tricks with his mind? Perhaps. She had stood just like this, naked, in front of each and every one of them, after helping them to undo their trousers, climbing atop of them at their request, guiding them, that childish little sigh as they entered her for the first, and the last, time. What a suicidal species. Terminal Point She gave him two dreamy kisses as he brushed salt crystals and grit from her back and ass cheeks, as she gently stroked his cock, already quite hard, leaking pre-cum that pooled in her fist. "Darlin'," he moaned. She knew what he was about to say. It was that obvious. In situations like these ghouls always said the exact same thing, over and over, like they were reprogrammed with a broken phonograph and could only talk about that need of theirs. "Right now I really need to be inside you." "Just do what you need to do." He was too ill and weak to move so she climbed atop him, kept kissing him for a few minutes more. Savoring the taste of living while it lasted. Fear and arousal collided inside her, but fear won once again. Once again, she thought. I'll make him cum. That's what he wants. That's what everyone wants. I make everyone cum. She knelt, raising her hips, gently guiding the tip of his cock to the entrance of her already flame-filled cunt. She descended very slowly, letting him spread slowly insider her, letting him push her girl-lips wide apart, letting him glide. In the dawn sunlight vultures cast tall-tale shadows over their bodies. She let the sweet, greasy cock edge forward, slowly, slippery, easily. Then he was fully within. Consumed. Then she finally drew a heavy breath. That was why she had left it, why she had to put on a mask and flayed human skin and disappear out into the wide, wicked world. "Fools and savages try to explain what they can't understand," Dr. William Withey Gull once said. "Wise men understand what they can't explain." It had known that that there was no logical argument to explain this, why mortals on this brief world did what they did, in the same way that there was nothing logical about the actions of that first infected French soldier who kept on fucking, despite the plague he knew that slept in his blood and ravaged his face. It wasn't because she or he or it were too stupid, or too desirous or too cruel to understand their actions, but rather because none of them couldn't help themselves. Even dipsomaniacs had more self-control than Bertholmeu le Jandre. She took a better hold of his shoulders and began rocking harder, rolling her hips, letting that sweet shaft slide ever deeper, allowing it only barely any length outward of her cunt on the up-stroke, that halfway-in/ halfway-out ecstasy, over and over. "Is this what you want to do?" Already the transformation was spreading, the pink of his skin fading to gray. His eyes clouding, milky. Cracks appearing at his fingertips, his toes, his tongue. Full motion. F-stop. Faster. She felt that he was trying to impale himself up to his balls in her, commit everything, fuck away his last scranton of fear that had control over him. That was all that mattered when it came to the sort of end that he wanted. That he got to cum somewhere, in someone ... in something. She bounced on him faster, faster, letting his flesh into her again and again and again, watching the skin across his ribs desiccate and mummify and rupture. "O! O gal! D-d-damn that's ... so ... g-good," he said in a strange, weak whisper, his teeth caving into the maw of his open face, gagging him, disappearing into the dark. She felt him throb in her and let her hips come down once more, letting him dissolve inside her deep fleshy purple parts. Like rock grit in the rain. Like desert salts finally finding the ocean. The last chilling touch of mortal frustration refusing to let go, refusing to be anything other than pure need, a sex machine. Such a narrow fantasy, because no machine can ever last the night. Terminal Seven Terminal 7 was all wrong. Permanent signs imbedded in concrete indicated the lower path led to "arrivals", but there were large orange cones barring her entry. She doubled back, but still couldn't find any way in. "Alex is going to suffer something fierce," she mumbled to herself, as she violently pulled into the parking area for the terminal. Accelerating to a somewhat questionable speed, she pulled the handbrake, and skidded into the first empty spot she deemed close enough to the walkway. With the exception of the tires, the Audi had miraculously escaped damage, despite Tiffany's kamikaze driving. Not that she cared. It was Alex's car, and it was his friend. Were he not the one paying rent, she would have simply ignored him when he announced that his mother wanted to see him, and that someone had to pickup Julian. She proceeded in the general direction of what she assumed to be the arrival portion of the gate, and fiddled with the top button of her blouse. Wet, humid air engulfed her. Cars idling everywhere, diesel exhaust in her face, a bead of sweat on her forehead, and no fucking signage. Fifteen minutes later she found the place, hidden below a dozen or so overpasses. A kid with bleached blond hair and a tweed Mao hat was propped up between the terminal wall and the curb. He reeked of grain alcohol and nicotine. She leaned over him and softly purred "wooooooord." Julian adjusted the brim of his hat and flashed a smile. "How'd the whole Japan thing go?" she queried. "Trendy neo-punk bands, lots of t-shirts with Che Guevara, too many high school prostitutes, but not as many as you'd think." "Neat." "Where's that lazy bastard boyfriend of yours?" he asked with a grin, as he pushed himself up, and began walking along side her. "Parents." "Ahh." "Free drinks in first class or something?" "Nah, I was stuck in business, and it was BYO." Laughing, she said "Jesus kid, we need to get you to an AA meeting, then maybe you can switch to caffeine." "Are you kidding me? It took me a fucking whole summer to kick my coffee habit, and the headaches from withdrawal nearly pushed me into a morphine habit. I'll pass." Raising an eyebrow "Dude, you smoke and drink and ingest more drugs than probably anyone I've ever met, and your big concern is a coffee addiction?" "You gotta pick your battles." "Suuuuure." She said, still smiling for some reason. They reached Alex's Audi TT in a few minutes, and Julian threw his weathered satchel into the backseat. Tiffany shoved the machine into reverse and reached about 40 mph in the span of thirty feet. "Alex is going to kill you." "He's the one that gave me the keys" she smiled, engaging the parking brake. "He'll live to regret that." She glanced over it him and he had that look. The same one he had three years ago at their first dorm meeting, when he had announced he was Julian, and "you don't want to know me." That bleached blond kid from New Orleans, had always had some unexplainable magnetism. He told people he was a spoiled drunk with too much time, too many medications, and too little discipline. No one cared, they still congregated around his room every night. That was freshman year, when he and Alex had been roommates. That was before he dropped out to bum around Europe and Asia. Not that it mattered. Even when he was a freshman, consuming a handle of cheap scotch every day or two, Julian could or write about anything remotely related to history, philosophy, economics, or The Doors, with what scholars here termed accomplishment. Even the professors were impressed when he started throwing out lengthy quotes from Goethe's Faust in German. But now he was different. He had the air a bohemian, a modern Kerouac who's road was composed of an endless string of terminals and trains and subways and coffee shops, and expensive schools. "So what are you writing a book?" She asked, breaking the silence. "Not on purpose, if that's what you mean." "Total lack of ambition. Very Buddhist." "Indeed" he smiled. "So what are you guys studying these days?" "Officially I'm a bio major, but I should probably switch to like applied chemistry or something to do with psychotropic drugs. Alex is in cinema. Or studying it, or really just tossing around platitudes and nonsensical comparisons to Russian literature and avant-garde art exhibits." "Naturally. Did you end up taking the evolutionary bio course?" he asked. As she recalled, that was the only course Julian had shown any real interest in during his brief stay at the school, a fact demonstrated by his repeated attendance and brief bouts of sobriety. "Yeah, I took that last semester" she said. "Did he cite the Canela?" "Yeah — Bat shit crazy. Serial orgies to obscure paternity." "And the men hid their glans, and were afraid of having women on top of them, and the women didn't climax" he recalled through his haze. "Hah, yeah. Actually I think there was one reported orgasm, but they tried to hang the poor foreign bastard that gave it to the girl, claiming he had killed her and brought her back to life again." "Fierce natives" he said grimly, then broke into a smile. He passed out shortly thereafter, and she slipped a White Stripes cd into the stereo. An hour and a half later they pulled into the complex's parking lot. She poked Julian a few times, and managed to stir him from his stupor. "We're here." She said, softly adding "Finallllllllly." "Mmmmmm...." He murmured, clutching her arm. One more swift poke and we was fully awake. He detached his arm from hers and she already missed his warmth. They walked up a flight of stairs and arrived at her campus apartment. Alex was still missing in action, no doubt whoring himself for a car payment. In the enclosed space Julian got a whiff of himself and demanded a shower. "At the end of the hall." She directed him, moving his leather bag into a far corner of the living room. She heard the water begin crashing into the tub and saw that Julian hadn't closed the door all the way which was kind of conspicuous. She couldn't really come up with a good estimate of the number women he had slept with in his journeys, but as she glimpsed his lithe body disappear behind the shower doors, she knew it had to be a fair number. He had a careless appeal, not rugged like the rugby guys, more bourgeois, more recklessly affluent. It was the sort of thing that would work on those eastern block girls that she always pictured looking 28 and slutty, taking long drags on cigarettes. After ten minutes of picturing Hungarian girls with perfect cheek bones and seductive accents, Tiffany kicked back on the couch, and withdrew a joint she had rolled earlier, from the end table. Flicking open a tarnished zippo, she touched the flame to the end of the hand-rolled cigarette and inhaled, gently coaxing the fire to take hold. The hydro filled her lungs with a warm minty feeling. She exhaled, blowing small rings into the air. "Impressive" said Julian, who now had a white Egyptian cotton towel wrapped around his waist. "Want some?" "Why not." He said, sitting down next to her. They relaxed on the couch and Julian began telling her a story about Europe. It was something about a europass, and sleeping on the train, and waking up in Moldova. "Henry Miller would have had a hell of time there." He said, adding "Two dollar whores on every corner." She wanted to ask if he'd slept with any and snake her hand under the towel, wrap her lips around his cock and make him hard. Instead she sat back and listened, half imagining Julian as he had been before he left. "The best part of Europe is the old cities. When you walk along the Danube in Budapest, you're surrounded by so much history, so much rich context, it actually shapes your thoughts." His descriptions of Europe and Asia were not unique. He hadn't found much more than he thought he would, although he seemed to be enthusiastic about India. Still she enjoyed basking in his voice and the textures of his words. She almost didn't notice him moving closer. He handed the joint back to her with his left hand and then lazily stroked his leg, causing the towel to part somewhere in the middle of his thigh. She pulled long, and then settled into Julian, resting her head on his bare shoulder. "Are you happy to be back?" She asked in a soft voice. Running his hand through her hair, he seemed to think a while. "I suppose I've had my fill of it." He began gently stroking her skin, inhaling the scent of her hair deeply. "I missed you Jules" she said quietly, almost at no one. She wanted to just stay like that for hours, days maybe. But Alex was going to be back in a while. She wasn't really sure what she should do. So she didn't do anything, except open her mouth a little bit when Julian gently placed his index finger between her lips. She let him in, and he ran his finger over her wet tongue. At first she didn't do anything, but after a few seconds she provided suction and began moving her tongue. She wanted to be closer to him, to envelop his entire body, keeping his warmth entirely to herself. It was difficult to tell where these feelings came from. They had screwed around a few times in freshman year, just like she had with countless others, but he'd made an impression. Now he was back and his confounding existence drew her in. His tongue brought familiar excitement. Tracing circles around ridges of her ear he sighed into her and began gently probing with his tongue. She felt his wet breath and squirmed with pleasure. The door handle jangled audibly. Alex was home, hopefully without parents. Julian made no move to relent, going even a little deeper, eliciting a lust filled moan from Tiffany. A second later she broke away, getting up to unlock the door for Alex, who still hadn't managed to locate his key. As she opened the door, she gave him a quick kiss on the lips. His eyes went past her, alighting on the half naked figure of Julian. "Hey! Jules, what's up kid?" he said with palpable excitement. Smiling broadly, Julian approached Alex with both arms, and hugged him tightly. "We got a hell of a lot to catch up on old man." Tiffany sensed genuine affection between the two, and was pleased to see them both so obviously happy. "We have to celebrate your return Jules, and apparent health." Laughingly adding "It'll be a goddamn miracle if you managed to make it home without any venereal diseases." "Don't be silly. I spent all my money on strong drink. Nothing left for the ravenous fiends that pass themselves off as hookers." With that they sat down and began getting reacquainted. Alex had much to say about admittedly little, and Julian remained surprisingly accommodating, listening to Alex intently. Tiffany moved into the kitchen area, warmed by the good natured atmosphere of the boys. She opened a cabinet and grabbed a couple Ritalin and washed them down with a mouthful of cabernet left over from last night. She informed the boys that she had class and said bye to them both and avoided looking at Julian who still wasn't fully clothed. Two hours later she returned to the apartment, and found everything in precisely the same place as it was when she left, though now there was a half empty bottle of tequila which sat squarely in the middle of the table, between the raucous boys. The subject matter had apparently moved on to cinema. "Nonsense." Said Julian inexplicably. "Have some tequila Tiffany. Your boyfriend is a lunatic." Alex filled the shot glass in front of him and presented it to her. She accepted and quickly downed it, slamming the glass down on the wooden table to indicate it was time for a refill. Two more shots and she felt like she was starting to catch up. As she slammed the glass down for a third time Alex grabbed her gleefully and planted her in his lap. She giggled and proceeded to shot number four. "Quite a girl you got there." "We'll see" replied Alex. "Hon, what was the best Hitchcock flick?" "Vertigo" "Bad girl." He said, smacking her ass playfully as she returned the glass to the table. "Told ya, Alex." For whatever reason, Tiffany felt a little weird. Maybe it was just the tequila. Julian went off on a long monologue about Vertigo and recurrence. It was a strange analysis that for whatever reason reminded her of calculus and Alex seemed to enjoy it, though his hands were actively stroking her stomach. After a minute or two longer it seemed normal. Almost. But then his hands continued underneath her shirt. "Heyyyy" she said pulling away with a little embarrassment. "Relax kitten, it's just Jules. He's too drunk to be offended anyway." "Uhh" she protested feebly, as he brought her back to his lap and Julian resumed his scholarly analysis. "—It's kind of like Lost Highway. Except Lynch seems to depart a bit more noticeably from classical Hollywood realism, making I suppose, a more postmodern, subjective text. Still—" Alex's hands rose conspicuously and now cupped her breasts. She sensed something latent in the air, as his friend continued without any particular look of surprise. The warmth in her stomach and skin felt good. Without much thought she encouraged Alex by grinding her ass up against him slightly. She felt her shirt rise to accommodate his continuing massage, and glanced shyly at Julian. Her quiescence made him go further. Removing a hand from her right breast, he pushed her shirt up farther, until her nipples emerged in plain view. Julian continued "—the best part is when she's in front of the painting. It's very Escher, the kind of thing that belongs in a Hofstadter book, or with a prominent allusion to Nietzsche. It's all eternal recurrence and shit." Tiffany remained silent, too embarrassed to say anything, too hot to stop Alex. With her shirt pushed over her breasts she let out a slight moan as Alex's left hand delved into her pants, pushing the snap open. She thought about protesting, but she didn't really feel like doing "coy," and she noticed Julian was staring straight into her eyes with lust. For just a moment everything seemed to freeze. Though she had fucked uncountable men, she had never done it with more than one guy at once. It didn't intimidate her, but for whatever reason there was still something that stopped her for the moment from being anything other than a passive observer. Alex sensed this and kissed her neck, making her shiver and grind ever so slightly into his lap. Hours later she would remember this tiny movement, and realize it had been the catalyst for everything that came after. This little bit of muscle memory that pushed her ass into Alex was exactly what made him slide his hand into her open pants and begin massaging her clit and then push her distressed jeans down further until they were around her ankles and she felt closer and closer to Julian which made her heart beat faster and body writhe. her back into a standing position, placed his hands on either side of her waist, and at once guided her jeans and underwear to her ankles. Though the whole thing was rather obvious at this point, she still had a quizzical expression on her face. He pushed her forward, so that her ass was leaning towards him. His tongue emerged and began traipsing across her outer labia. Julian looked at her and grinned, then in one movement got up and removed the white towel from his waist. Wrapping his hand around the base of his semi erect cock, he thrust it in her general direction. She wasn't used to this situation. It was like some kind of bizarre sixty nine, with one inexplicable extra body. She was past embarrassment or even morality though, and opened her mouth willingly, taking in Julian's rapidly hardening member. A little too much enthusiasm on her part brought about an audible choke, eliciting a chuckle from Alex. He continued to ravish her labia and clit, each flick of the tongue bringing about a noticeable thrust from Tiffany. Her mouth was wrapped around Julian, producing loud messy slurping sounds that coincided nicely with each of her pelvic thrusts. A rhythm built up, and for a moment, the three were utterly consumed in each other. After a few minutes, Alex's tongue vanished. A moment later she felt the head of his cock gently nudge between her inner labia. Soon she was railroading the boys, with Alex largely controlling the pace. Each thrust pushed her Julian's cock past her mouth, into her throat. For whatever reason, the sound of her gasps seemed to fuel Alex even more, who seemed to be constantly increasing his pace. Soon Tiffany was timing her breath like an Olympic swimmer, deftly fellating the sizeable cock in her face. Moments later she pushed Julian out and drained the nearby shot glass. After gulping the tequila, her left hand led Julian back inside her, licking his glans actively while it slipped between her lips. Incredible heat traced a route down her throat, then seemed to pronounce itself in her vagina as Alex thrust savagely inside her. As Alex's thrusts continued to push her onto Julian's cock, he nonchalantly replaced the shot glasses on the table and began refilling them, carefully bracing himself against each tremor. With a nod Alex pulled out and spun Tiffany around to face him. She was less thrilled about the taste that would more than likely accompany his dick, but she was far too heated to object as the two reversed the sequence. Julian felt a bit different inside her. He was somehow less sharp, though still very pronounced. Alex was none to aggressive, and allowed Julian's pace to control Tiffany's mouth. It was slow but demanding, with no moment of rest in sight. Eventually Tiffany had come to the point where each thrust had her completely deepthroating Alex, a rather impressive achievement. . A hand came down hard on her ass. A loud smack sounded with each thrust. She could feel the skin on her buttocks growing warm and red. She pushed back hard, feeling Julian's hand underneath her stimulating her with each movement. This kind of fullness was utterly foreign to her. She heard Alex groan each time he made his way back into her throat. She felt a hard smack on her ass, and her a finger massaging her clit. Within a few minutes she was climaxing all over, muscles contracting fiendishly, like some kind of fucked up epileptic fit. The guys seemed to sense this and laughed a bit. The railroading continued for a while longer until Alex signaled he was good to go. They both pulled out and pushed Tiffany onto her knees. She had watched pornography, but had never done much in that vein. She went with the flow, which seemed readily apparent as their hands seemed to secure her firmly between the two. They stroked themselves in front of her, both glistening with her vaginal secretions and saliva. Alex erupted first, she closed her eyes and the first contraction spilled cum on her upper lip. The next contraction left a string across the bridge of her nose, and then a third and fourth contraction poured the remainder across her left cheek. Alex aimed himself between her lips and pushed. She opened her mouth to accept him, tasting the remnants of saltiness. Julian gave a low guttural noise and began to discharge himself on Tiffany. Caught off guard, the first portion of his load managed to get into her right eye. She instinctively grimaced, but he kept coming. Julian's aim was apparently a bit higher as it next hit her upper brow, then forehead, finally shooting a long streak into her silky black hair. The boys urged her along and she continued to fellate them until they grew weary of the process. Someone tossed her a paper towel and she wiped the majority of the semen off of her face. She sighed audibly, and then the three laughed. Terminal Seven A few minutes later they collapsed lethargically into the blue futon in the living room. The tequila and physical exertion took their toll, and soon the three, with limbs entwined, were absorbed in sleep. Terminal Sex It had been a long time coming, this week long cruise had been in the works for a year. The first phone calls, rediscovering the magic that caused my soul to burn, were a solid base for the long conversations and sexually intense innuendo. The desire to follow them up with action was almost overwhelming, but I held true to my purpose. I needed to seduce your mind first, after that physical seduction was fait accompli. We talked of many things, Gods and Kings... There were of course disagreements, but nothing that was a deal breaker. Which sports team to root for and other such trivia. What unites us is the shared experience of all those years ago. The first actual meeting was almost a boondoggle. I tried too hard, but you smiled indulgently and laughed when I stammered out of sheer desire. Buoyed by the knowledge that you were amused and not annoyed at my adolescent insecurities I grew into my confidence. By the end of that magical weekend the stage was set for this trip. Fine restaurants and a trip to the theater were only foreplay. My hands were inside your dress almost immediately. It was my turn to tease and enjoy your discomfiture. It pleased me to see how your skin flushed when I made you orgasm in the taxicab, with the driver glancing into the mirror trying to catch the show. You always enjoy it when I push your boundaries. By the end of the weekend you were a fully realized sexual dynamo. No one could resist your Eros, even if they had wanted. Then came the sad times, the long weeks of work far away from each other, hoping that no one else would start the fire like I could. Sometimes almost a month would pass before schedules and time zones added up to a deeply satisfying conversation. Eventually though time cleared the obstacles from our path and set our feet on the trail we now walk. Meeting in Atlanta was a genius move, in one fell swipe it allowed us to present the fiction we were to play for the rest of the world and allowed us to fulfill one of our bucket list fantasies. As I stride down to the terminal from my plane I scan the crowd. You are relaxing just to one side of the exiting passengers. I am grateful your flight arrived first, if I had to wait my heart would have exploded. As we sojourn down the terminal towards our connecting flight you have a devilish gleam in your eyes. On the moving sidewalk you lean over and ask me in a husky voice if I remember our "Airport Fantasy". My immediate rod of steel is all the answer you need. Chuckling deeply you suggest that there is a place not to far away... Into the family bathroom we sped. Finding a lack of undies and a nice juicy snatch I immediately began by giving your clit a nice long lick and juicy wet kiss. Sucking your clit into my mouth and humming elicited the response I was looking for, a rush of warm wet vaginal juice that covered my chin. Pulling me up by the shirt collar you push me up against the wall, grabbing my cock you slide it down your throat. I can feel your tongue reaching out for my cum, drawing my cock in even deeper and causing me to cum. I feel the anxiety of distance fade to a warm happy sexual glow. After one final long lick you slide my cock, ever hard, into your tight juicy snatch. Our energy is so intense I wonder that we don't blow the door off it's hinges. I step behind you and whisper nasty things into your ear as I thrust deeply inside you. I can feel your pussy clenching down on my cock. I play with your clit as you cum again and again. As a special treat I start playing with your perfect ass. You know what is going to happen and so you lift just a little higher on to your toes. Finally I work my thumb just inside your asshole. The groan and gush that follows justifies all that has passed before. You push your ass back onto my thumb and I can tell you want more. I tease your ass over and over again until your eyes start to roll back in your head and you start to lose control of the muscles in your legs. We continue to pound each other for an eternity it seems until my phone's alarm goes off. I had thought we might get crazy in the airport so I set my phone to give plenty of time to make it to our connecting flight. The cruise ship would not wait for us, sexual dynamo or no. I laugh at the knowing, and the confused, looks that we receive as we leave the bathroom together. As we hustle to the gate I ask "Ever wanted to join the mile high club?". Terminal Sweetness She smelled it yesterday, just like before and When she opened the cabinet it was there, the sickly sweet fragrance hung over her like darkness. Then she remembered: beneath the bright lights, with a scarf on her head, watching the drip, drip, drip into her arm. Those days she walked a bit apart from herself, slightly out of step and every morning: that cabinet, that smell of sticky sweetness. Recalling her joy, when suddenly the strange smell was gone and it stayed away year after year, and she walked as herself, whole, connected, unafraid. Sure, there were scars inside and out, tender, sensitive to touch, but, the illness was gone. She had won the battle, she lived, day after day, every day for nine years. But now, in the kitchen, in the cabinet, that damned cabinet, she smelled it, faint, almost forgettable, but she couldn't forget. It stayed as she scrubbed and scrubbed the cabinet, the walls and the floors. No matter how she scrubbed, slowly the smell shrouded her, cloaking her in the sticky darkness. Her fingers ached from scrubbing, as she closed her eyes and slowly opened the cabinet door. It was not any cabinet door, it was "that" cabinet door, it opened and she smelled it, a sickly sweet smell, almost cinnamon. Something she hadn't smelled in almost nine years. They called it a remission then, recently some of the doctors dared say cure. But now, that smell was back. The calendar said, "Dr. appt." on Thursday and She knew she must tell the doctor and they would run tests, take blood, examine her thoroughly, but she already knew what they would find. She could face the treatments again, loosing hair, the nausea, and the pain: she was prepared. She touched her chest and felt a slight tingly sensation on one of the scars. She thought of her husband. They still made love when she was fighting the disease, when she felt okay. But, when they did, he was always so gentle, tender. Gentle and tender were fine, exquisite at times, but sometimes she longed for something firmer, rougher. Like now, she loved those times when he hovered on the verge of loosing control, when she saw an urgency in him, when he was a bit rough, not out of violence, but out of need. That is what she missed when she was ill. She would have to tell him but... Standing at the kitchen door she watched him watch her turn out the light and lean seductively against the doorframe. She unbuttoned her blouse, letting it fall to the flor, then reached and unfastened her skirt. He could see her scars, the light was dim, but he could still see. It had taken some time for her to believe that he still found her sexy, that when he ran his lips over the scars on her chest he wasn't revolted. She watched him stand and remove his shirt, and noticing the bulge in his shorts and she smiled. He clumsily removed his shorts and underwear and walked quickly over to her, as he pulled her to him, she felt his erection as it slid against her panties, she ground herself against it, enjoying the hard feel. She loved thinking how, though it got so hard, when she touched it with her fingers it felt so soft. He reached his hands past the elastic of her panties and squeezed her ass hard. Yes he wanted her, she felt his urgency as he touched her and she felt it in his breath as he pulled her panties off and kneeled down before her. Spreading her legs she opened herself to him, feeling his hot breath and the cool touch of his tongue as he tasted her. Closing her eyes, she moved her hips rhythmically, pressing her lips onto his face, listening to the slurping sounds he made as he ran his tongue over her. The first wave shuddered over her as he slid two fingers deep inside her. They slid easily into her wet warmth, remaining there as her soft walls convulsed around the fingers. He stood up, pressing his erection hard against her, grinding it. He grabbed her as, squeezing hard again, pulling her onto him as she winced a bit at the pain. Yes, this was what she liked, she thought as she felt his hands tremble on her. Easing herself back onto the carpet, she relished the thought he would take her there in the living room, rather than walking back to the bedroom. She felt the urgency rise in him as she slowly opened her legs and felt his weight lean upon her. Feeling his quick thrust of penetration she reminded herself she had something important to tell him, but feeling his hot breath on her neck and hearing his moan she decided it could wait. She would tell him tomorrow. Terminally Shy Grandson I am an Amature writer at best with a fondness for furs. These stories reflect that. If this is of no interest to you please read something else. There seems to be more interest than I thought. This story was written as a kind of annonymous request for a Grandmother who left a nice and kind response. I have gotten more favorable responses to my stories here than I had expected. Thank you and I will keep writting them. This story cannot be reproduced or posted elsewhere without my permission. I hope you enjoy this one. ONE Benton has a truly tumultuous background. His mother had him at 18 and her mother was raped at 13 giving birth to his mom. The uncle that did it was in prison a long time. He had only seen his grandmother Ida a few times in his life since his mother was so busy and they lived on opposite coasts. They lived in Connecticut and grandma lived in Oregon where she has done very well for herself in Real Estate. His mom Glenda, had worked very hard to provide for them since her boyfriend who got her pregnant left before he was born. They had all escaped the Midwest where their lives had been so brutally and painfully altered. Glenda worked tirelessly to both better herself, putting herself through college and making a career for herself as a high level corporate executive. All this without giving up custody of him as many struggling young mothers do. She was determined to make a better life for her son. He was provided with the best private schooling clothing and living conditions. Everything except emotional comfort. Benton is terminally shy as a result. He is well behaved and never in trouble, unlike many of his over provided wealthy friends from far more conventional families. The only emotional comfort Benton has been able to enjoy is in his mothers overabundance of furs, which are a compensation for her own lack of emotional security. Because of this peculiar situation mom has let the situation remain as it is with a tacit agreement that Benton could pleasure himself as much as he pleased in her furs. They had lived their lives in a comfortable stasis this way since Benton's childhood. Mom had gotten the idea, more like obsession, for furs from her mom. Grandma had learned to love them as she recovered from her rape trauma with a couple of furs of her mom's she had been given. So Benton comes by his own obsession for furs honestly in a peculiar sort of family way. Men in either grandma's or mom's lives has been nearly nonexistent other than grandma being raped and mom having had a one time "fling". Mom has never let a man come between her and her agenda for life since and grandma has been much the same. Both mom and grandma had been very good to themselves and between their genetic good fortune of having beautiful five ten bodies. They both look ten or more years younger than their age and they both work out and are in incredible shape. Grandma, at 50, is still a long distance runner with a group in Oregon. Benton has seen pictures of her with her running partners and she looks as young as the 30 somethings. They both are lean and fairly well figured with modest, but very nice breasts. Mom is a luscious true blond and grandma still has, all say, naturally light brunet hair. He had just turned 18 and was graduating from High School with honors. In this his mom was a success with his rearing. Grandma was coming for the graduation. Benton has grown to have a substantial physique. He is six three with a lean and well toned body like his mom's, her hair as well. Actually quite handsome but his shyness seems to turn off all the women around him. TWO "Hello grandson. You have certainly grown." as she hugs him in the Airport. He had come to pick her up. It was still only 10AM and Mom was still at work as usual. She is dressed in a huge Crystal Fox and wraps around her grandson like a lover, kissing him repeatedly and almost passionately. Benton is highly aroused by this rush of affection. Unlike anything his mom would do. Though shy, his secret passion to have a woman in furs is all consuming. Grandma wasn't helping the situation. Mom has never been nearly so affectionate though his fantasies have taken him there more than once. "Hi grandma Ida. I am so glad to see you. I sure wish we could see you more often." "I think we might remedy that soon." They drove to the house and grandma got settled into the guest room. Mom wasn't going to be home for hours so grandma suggested they go for a sightseeing trip around the area. She raided mom's fur closet and came out wearing her Arctic Fox coat. It too is huge and Benton often wears it around the house himself. "Here let grandma give you another hug. I know that your mom is real stingy with her affections." She hugs Benton for quite awhile. Grandma is hugging him like in his fondest fantasies as she strokes his face with the furs as she kisses his cheeks in a near lovers kiss. Benton shoots his load in his briefs with her fondling he is so stimulated and excited. "Grandma, I need to go to the bathroom before we leave." Grandma smiles to herself as he takes off down the hall. It's been a while since she has had the gratification of making a man cum in his pants. They take the Harbor tour and drive through the countryside for awhile. On one stop at a country store they are sitting in the chilly afternoon at a park bench eating their take out lunch they had picked up. "You look really chilly son. Come here and let me warm you up." as she grabs him around the shoulders and pulls him to her in another lovers embrace. Her fur is all over Benton, once again bringing him to a very high level of excitement. "What are you doing for Prom night?" she whispers in his ear. "I don't have a date." he says sheepishly. "If I were younger I would certainly go with you." "Thanks grandma but I've never been very comfortable around girls." "You have urges don't you. I mean you aren't impotent or anything like that?" fully knowing the truth. "I sure would like to be with a girl but I just can't seem to get up the nerve." "Hasn't your mom talked to you about these things?" again knowing the answer. "Not really. We just never talked about those kinds of things. I think she is as uncomfortable about it as I am." "I'm sure that is the case and I intend to remedy that while I am here." Benton just looks at her with a curious look. They go on with their sightseeing tour and are back home just before dark and still prior to mom getting home. When mom gets home the greetings are cool and a bit tense. Benton had not been aware of this before in his visits but he was much younger and not as aware of those sorts of things. They decided to go out for dinner which was not that uncommon for mom. Conversation at dinner was curious. It was like a business executive meeting with a combination of corporate advertising and Real Estate deals being discussed. A kind of dichotomy in that both women were wearing the most opulent furs imaginable. Benton was suddenly finding this to be extremely erotic and sexually exciting as they talked. Both women fondled their furs all evening as if self comforting. This further inflamed his erotic thoughts of the two women in furs. That evening in bed Benton masturbated with the furs more furiously than ever with these incestuous visions of him doing his mom and grandma in a mountain of furs. He was both excited beyond belief and mortified over his incestuous thoughts. Granted he had the occasional vision of his mom nude in furs and masturbating to that vision but not so far as copulating with her in the furs! And his grandma too!!! He must have squeezed off a gallon of cum that evening. He woke in the middle of the night with a wet dream having already inseminated his grandma in mindless orgasms and with his cock pumping into his mom shooting his biggest load yet. His sexual passions were uncontrollable. All his pent up passions for girls were boiling over and the conflicts with his overwhelming shyness and these desires were ripping him apart. This all on top of his mortified state of the incestuous thoughts and fantasies of screwing his mom and grandma. The next morning mom had left for two days on a business trip he had known about. This was routine in their life. It so happens this was also Prom night which he would not be attending. Breakfast was awkward given dinner last night and last nights wet dreams. Benton made breakfast for them as he had learned to do on his own a long time ago. He had taught himself to be a very good chef. His mom really appreciated that. The incongruity with grandma was her wearing mom's Sable coat to the breakfast table. They ate mostly in silence until grandma broaches the shyness issue again. "Benton, you really need to come to terms with your shy behavior. I know your mom has not dealt with this. I'm sure she has not been as emotionally supportive as she should have been and probably not at all physically comforting. I know her all too well. It is not that it is so bad a thing in itself but that can really impede your future in ways you cannot now imagine." "I know! Don't you think I would like it to be otherwise? I just freeze up and can't say a word around a girl if it is even vaguely near sex and mom, well mom is just that way." "We'll go out this evening and have a grand night on the town to compensate for your non Prom night." "OK grandma." and she closes in on him sitting at the table, wrapping the Sable and her arms around him in another lovers embrace. His face is buried in the thick, soft sable in her breasts and he is instantly erect. Her kisses are warmer and more impassioned than before. It isn't long before Benton is shooting in his shorts again as grandma speaks to him. "You really need to loosen up and not be so shy. Nothing bad will happen." "Please grandma, I really don't have a clue of what to do?" "Since your mom has chosen not to show you, I will take you through it all step by step. We will start with this evenings private Prom." They spend most of the day visiting the museums and art galleries of the area. Grandma has a particular fondness for them and Benton loves going. One of his favorite things to do. When they come home they dress for an evening on the town. Benton is in a suite and grandma is in a rather revealing dark brown silk dress that belies her years and is quite provocatively draped in his mom's big Sable coat. They go to a dinner club where grandma cajoles the water into allowing Benton to drink the wine they order. They dance and some folks look and whisper about the woman in the Sable with the boy toy. They pay no attention and Benton is getting a bit tipsy since it is the first time he has ever really drunk alcohol to any extent. Benton is relaxing in the extreme. Grandma now has him totally seduced. He is outwardly quite sober. Seems Benton can hold his booze. Grandma drives them home however. They are no sooner in the door when Benton is on Ida with kisses. These are mouth to mouth and with passionate gusto. Her previous efforts at sexual encouragement were being returned in multiples. The alcohol did numb his prick to some degree. It at leased slowed down its rapid growth. Ida steered him to the guest room where she had prepared the bed with heaps of furs. Benton's hands are all over Ida. Her breasts are being fondled with remarkable sensitivity as he has her dress down around her waist and the Sable all over her. When it comes to the furs Benton does have more than a clue. "You were so sweet Benton when you creamed your shorts to my fur caressing. Let me see what made the mess." pulling down his pants and shorts his rather substantial cock springs out at her and has her gasping with surprise. "Wow! It seems you are going to make grandma a happy woman tonight." she slides the moist tip between her lips and sucks it lightly. Benton moans loudly as he thrusts his hips forward to her. His precum is oozing out and further wetting her lips. "Grandma! What are we doing?" in a final effort to confront his mortification while grasping her fur and clutching her face to his cock. His body was already giving up his true desires. This just fired Ida's passions for her grandson. She pushes him back to the bed as she sucks on his cock. Benton's mind is swimming with a mix of indecision and desires. All his self gratifications in the furs and desires for girls were coming to a head so to speak. He falls back into the furs as Ida strips the rest of his and her clothes from them. Her body over his suddenly triggers a wave of passions from him that unleashes a flood of desires. Ida has years of pent up desires in need of quenching. They fall into an embrace with true lovers passions as Benton consumes his grandmother. Ida is overcome with his innocence and fumbling but eager efforts. She begins to direct him in his fondling and love making efforts. His size and stiffness has Ida trembling with her anticipation but she doesn't want to rush him and spoil his first time. She wants to make sure her grandson is the finest possible lover who can take any girl he wishes with skill and confidence. "Thrust deep into me now." she instructs him and with that he drives his length fully into Ida's vagina. Benton doesn't know but she is nearly as tight as a young girl as she grips his cock in her. He moans with an unearthly satisfaction that has transported him to a fantasy world of furs and girls vagina's stored in his brain. The reality far exceeds his fantasies as he pumps his grandmother's twat as they both squirm and writhe in the soft and luxurious furs. He begins to ejaculate quickly but Ida holds him in her and encourages his continued pumping of her. Her encouragement is amply rewarded as he continues to spew his hot virgin seed deep into her. He is taking her to orgasm after orgasm which further inflames his desires to please her. Benton is kissing her and fur groping her which further inflames her desires for his wonderful attentions to her. Never in her life has she experienced such unbridled enthusiasm and energy just to please her. Her fantasies of having her innocent grandson plumb her depths are rewarded with a guilt riddled energy and lust she is savoring in its exquisite sweetness. Fuel for the orgasms wracking her body. This will not be the last time she will taste his lust for her. She raises up on his cock and rides him like a horse as she has his cock in her in ways she has dreamed of all her life. All the boys she has "rented" have never satisfied her in the way Benton is reaching her passions as she pumps his cock for her ultimate lustful release. Looking down on him in his exquisite lust and eager desires energizes her in unexpected ways. She fur fondles him with responses that fuels her own passions. His responses are wondrous as he moans with an eagerness for further pleasures from her. It is like she has total control of his desires for her. Benton thrusts up into his grandmother with a flame in his groin to ignite her cravings. Her fur fondling of him as she pumps on his cock is driving him to new heights from the soft sensations administered from her and not his hand. Benton thrusts up and erupts with his biggest load yet in powerful hot bursts Ida can feel shoot into her deepest recesses. The warmth and filling of her overwhelms her desires as she erupts in the most powerful orgasm of her life as she wrings and twists around his huge cock, rubbing and pulsing into every surface of her vagina. A satisfaction she has never experienced. Ida falls off Benton from exhaustion. Even with her longest run has she so exausted her physical capabilities. Her grandson was her greatest challenge in all ways. "Now you should have been out there tonight knocking up some pretty young unsuspecting girl, giving her an experience she would never forget and have her searching for a lover to equal your prowess as a lover. I ask you now .. what have you to be shy about. You can satisfy any woman you wish." They fall asleep after a short while of mutual fur fondling and Benton examining his grandmothers parts more closely. In the heat of the moment knowing her body was in a different realm of knowing. Benton awakes looking up at his grandmother as she is going for another ride on his early morning stiffness. He is near ejaculation as his senses come together. His body has a "mind" of its own and Ida has taken full advantage of that and him. Seems she now can't get enough of his cock inside her. Her moans are accompanied by a grunt at every drop on his crotch as his rod thrusts deep to her cervix. Ida is in a state of near hysteria as her frenetic pumping increases to a near fever pitch. Her mind is definitely somewhere else. Benton returns last nights favor and fur fondles her body as she is jumping up and down on his rod. Her response is magical. Her body pushes into the furs as he strokes her and a sweet smile comes over her stressed face. Ida reaches a point of a mindless frenzy and erupts in a orgasmic series of seizures and just falls off his cock and flops into the furs motionless. Benton reaches over and starts to finger her labia. Her whole body quivers and shudders in another spasm of orgasms. He continues as she has spasm after spasm. He fondles her body with furs as he does this. It is like he is pushing her orgasm button. He realizes he can make her orgasm at any time. Her body is his! They give it up from exhaustion and finally shower and dress. They both wrap their nude bodies in furs to lounge the morning away watching TV and fondling each other. Food was consumed in a casual and unorganized fashion. THREE Later that afternoon Benton mounts his grandmother again with her willing and eager participation. He is riding her and fur fondling her much as last night but not so fast or frenetic. Just as he is pumping his mother load into grandma's glory hole his mother walks in a day early and unannounced. "What the hell is going on??" Benton's cock is suddenly the size of a peanut. Grandmother is quite casual and lucid about it all even with the unscheduled return of her daughter. "Well dear I'm simply doing what you have neglected to do for your son." Glenda is stunned with the response. She is ashen and silent, her mouth hanging open. She suddenly rushes into her bedroom and falls on the bed sobbing. She is face down in her thick Lynx spread, stroking it in a comforting way, clutching her Arctic Fox to her tightly. Benton goes into her room, still nude and wrapped in her big Sable. He lays beside her and wraps his arms around her. She melts. Her cold, frigid exterior and off putting all vanish. Benton is unbuttoning her blouse and kissing her before thinking of his actions. Grandmother/Mother watches from the doorway as her daughter is seduced by her son. She is fondling and masturbating herself with the excitement and release of sexual tensions too long held. Benton fur fondles his mom with his Sable, her Sable actually, and has her breasts wrapped in it as he begins to kiss her. It is a flood gate opened. Glenda consumes her son with passions locked up and suddenly let loose. Tongue tangling slobbering kissing of mad and passionate lovers. Her legs are wrapping around him in anticipation of things only her body knows. Her mind is in another county by now. Son has her dress off and her now nude body pressed tight to himself. Mom is already in motion. Son is the cool head, such as it is and takes the situation a bit slower than mom would have them doing. He carefully and meticulously [from his short experience] fondles his mom's breasts and labia with furs and fingers. Mom is already over the top with excitement and orgasms. Her passions flooding forth. Terminally Shy Grandson Mom lets with a loud moan as Benton thrusts fully and forcefully into mom's vagina. Mom was already in motion. His excitement level over fucking his mom is so high he is almost instantly pumping his hot fluids into mom. From last night's experience he knew to keep on truckin'. Mom was totally responsive as he is almost constantly pumping his hot sticky essence into his mom's glory hole. Grandma has collapses to her knees with her orgasms and masturbations over the unfolding events. She finally gets up and lays on the bed in the furs beside them. She cradles he daughter's face between her legs as son has flipped her over and is pummeling her hot hole from behind, straddling her thighs. His cock slides tightly and smoothly between her thick and swollen labia lips and buttocks, his balls slapping her labia with each thrust. Mom is now eating out her mom without clear realization but from her passions and being totally consumed in her pent up desires. Grandma is stroking her hair and fur fondling her face and head. Mom is in paradise or somewhere like that. Son is reaming his mom real good and she is taking her son with all her being as she counter thrusts to his every thrust into her deep warm well. Son is pushing mom up a steep slope and mom is responding with increasing fervor and energy. Her mind has now left the State and headed for Mexico. Her body is more frequently wracked with orgasmic spasms increasing in strength. Her mom can tell as she is nearly chewing her labia off. Grandma is being driven into her own new orgasmic experiences from her daughter's consuming her. Three writhing orgasming bodies connected in so many ways. A mutual threesome orgasmic experience. Truly a family affair. The thunderbolt from the blue first strikes Glenda with jerking and writhing of Olympian proportions. Her mega orgasm triggers Ida's and Benton's as he pumps another gallon into his mom's warm well and Ida jerks in a responsive orgasm as Glenda bites down om her mom's labia. Ida leans forward and kisses her grandson in a light but lingering and passionate kiss as the both slide down the slope from their satisfying Glenda, themselves as well of course. "Now Glenda dear, don't you feel so much better?" "Oh my god! I've been screwed by my son and I ate out my own mom! The humiliation! It's all so very wrong! What am I going to do?" Benton and Ida lay her back between them in their arms, nestled in the furs. They fondle and console her as she sobs over what has transpired. Benton begins to stroke her labia and slides his fingers into her warm and wet slit. He quickly finds her clitoris and gently pinches it sending a rushing and shuddering orgasm through his mom's body with a deep moan, forgetting all about remorse. She looks up into his eyes with a plaintive and submissive smile. Mom is his now and at his will with a touch. His shyness is history. The few days left together before grandma had to leave was spent making love to each other and truly enjoying each other mentally and physically. Glenda and Ida were so much closer now and their visits would be frequent instead of hardly ever. FOUR Mom and Benton slept together now most of the time. She needed his ministering to her needs and desires. Any qualms she might have had over their incest were swept away before her needs and passionate lustful love of her son. Like she was compelled to make up for the years of emotional starvation of him and of herself. Mom grew quickly to have deep desires for her son and their love making. Her pent up desires needed far more sexual attention than she ever realized. She loved having her sons cock deep in her most cherished recesses and her son was all too eager to satiate her needs. Night after night and all weekend most often he was between her thighs filling her with his essence. She no longer stayed late at the office but was home and in coitus with her son. Son was not only all too eager to eager to satisfy his mom's cravings and guilt but grew quickly to love her in ways he had never conceived. Loving her as a partner, lover and emotional friend. Benton's skills as a lover were quickly of the highest and finest quality. Mom needed emotional loving that required the most sensitive and caring approaches possible and he was able to master these and hone them to a very high level while remaining 'truthful' in his seductions of her. Mom always wanted to be seduced. This was her ultimate gratification and orgasmic climax. She otherwise still dominated his life and choices. This would end soon however as time for college was near. He had chosen a University in Oregon and near grandma. He would be coming home on holidays and in the summer so it was not a forever good by. In his absence Mom had taken a new perspective on life and began dating men. She was actually enjoying it and a few met her requirements as sensitive fur lovers. She would often eMail Benton a comparative analysis as to how much better lover he was than any of the men so far. Of course they were satisfying her most basic sexual needs at the very least. For that she was thankful for this new perspective on life and love making. These were quite explicit and detailed writings. Very steamy reading from his once cool and detached mom. The correspondence between mom and daughter was equally steamy. They did see each other nearly monthly if not more frequent. Son would come and make a threesome weekend of it when she came. Benton started to date as soon as he started college. At first simply to verify that he could, indeed, talk to and ask a girl for a date. Panties and bras were soon shed as soon as the girls discovered his loving skills. His sex life with "the girls" began. In his mind mom and grandma were still his true "Lovers" and he was never very long between loving coitus with either and both. Mom and grandma made sure he had his own furs and fur spread by then and was soon fur seducing "the girls". He began to find a few that approached mom/grandma levels of performance and quality. They knew it was inevitable. Benton was feeling guilty over these new discoveries and love partners. After all Mom and grandma were his first and true "Lovers". Unlike his controlling mom and grandma most of these girls had that one deficit. They were all very submissive to his charms and skills, all too quick to submit to his every whim. It seems his skills were considerable in comparison to other men and most of his girlfriends were true sex groupies, quite willing to take turns. This began to wear on Benton's patience and deeper needs. Even though mom and grandma both submitted to his touch in matters of their sexual needs and desires they were otherwise still quite controlling of his life and he felt that to be comfortable and somehow "right" for his life. Even with their dating other men this was a family conditioning that had to be satisfied in his mind. Also a new family bond had been cast that was now unbreakable. Any future woman he might 'have' had to be compatible and fully part of his family, however that might be? FIVE In the middle of the last semester of his Senior year Benton met Rita the Red. A feisty flaming red head with a quick tongue and an even quicker mind. Benton was in love. The one problem with Rita was she had not a clue about fur. This had been true with some other of "His Girls" as well and he had taught them about what was sorely missing in their lives. He had created a whole cult of fur bunnies on campus in response to his fur teachings as he seduced these women. At first Rita found the furs to be off putting but they continued to date, though infrequent. Still Benton was smitten by this feisty red head and was not about to give up. When she was around him he was truly dominated. She said "jump" and he asked "how high?" Life would be perfect if she only would relish wallowing in furs with him. She had grown up in a very puritanical family. Her father was a minister though she rejected those strict limitations in her own life. Still the background was what it was and her upbringing was fur impoverished. Rita is everything Benton had ever dreamed of in a woman. Certainly as beautiful as either his mom or grandma at their peak. She has a young innocent girl look about her. A green eyed, tall slender five ten with firm B cup breasts that have a classic swoop. She rarely wears a bra so with her normal T neck cashmere sweaters displays all she is. She's proud of her body and not shy to display it. Most importantly he loved being controlled by her. Not in a dominatrix sort of way but like his mother. Boys do marry their mothers after all. Benton finally gave her a modest sheared beaver jacket. Classic and simple enough to look very good with jeans or other of her clothes she normally wore and not at all ostentatious. He knew wholesale changes in her life was a pipe dream aside from hopefully getting her hooked on furs. Well she liked it and before long she loved it and wore it almost all the time. Seems he had struck a sensitive and soft fantasy she was unaware she had until it was actually a part of her. She was often stroking the furs he wore now as well as her own. Maybe it's time to meet grandma first them mom a bit later. With grandma he was explicit in keeping things on a "need to know" basis in his life with Rita and to approach her with caution and a gradual approach. Introduce the furs and our family love in a gradual and quiet way. They liked each other almost instantly. Grandma wore furs from the first meeting. "I can see why you like furs so much. You're grandma's furs are super." "Yeah, and my mom's are at least as nice. I kinda grew up with them." "Well they are nice and soft and cuddly. I kinda like them now that you got me one." pregnant pause with "maybe another" filled into the unspoken blank. We have yet to have sex. Rita is holding out for near certainty knowing my reputation as a seducer of virgins and the like, some of them are her friends. A reputation I would never in my wildest dreams thought possible with my terminal shyness in high school. For Rita I am willing to suffer it out and she is respecting and appreciating that. She knows my reputation is founded in fact not macho chest beating or braggadocio. I never say anything about it myself. Each relationship is intensely personal and each girl knows that. What they reveal is their choice. Benton got a lush hooded Lynx jacket the next day from grandma as bait. Rita went bonkers. Her stroking and fondling of the furs increased dramatically. One of her girlfriends who is one of Benton's fur bunnies asked if she was now one of the fur bunnies too? Rita was both incensed and sexually turned on. She now knew Benton was smitten by her and she named the tune. Rita and I have kissed and she has confessed that her kissing me is so much more than her previous experiences, none of which has been really good. She believes the rumors from that alone. That evening we kissed so much longer and so much more passionately with hands wandering through our furs. Rita is primed and set to go off. Hopefully she will be my new and sole "Lover" soon. Well mom and grandma will always be there. After a few evenings of conversation and entertainment grandma introduced Rita to her fur closet but only after Rita had actually begged her to see it. Rita was bowled over and visibly sexually turned on as grandma brings out and puts in place all the furs that would normally be around the house and on the beds as well as laying out some of her furs. Grandma took off for mom's for a week. She said if I couldn't seduce Rita in a week I should give up. So much better and completely fur endowed than my tiny apartment. It was also winter break and normally I would be going home to mom. This is just too important and Rita was surprisingly not going home either. She knew I was not and is she staying because??? I ask her to grandma's with her gone to mom's. "Yes" instantly. SIX I picked her up and we drove the hour to grandma's. Her house is very comfortable and I love spending time there. I hope I can have a house like this some day for myself. It is a kind of woodsy rambler that wanders over the wooded site with nice views of the countryside and mountains. She has furs everywhere. Fur spreads, throws, pillows as well as many coats and jackets. Grandma was clear about her own predilections for furs. Rita is well aware of what is in store for us and is clearly eager for the experience. A kind of virgin experience in furs. She is hugging tight to me and fondling our furs as we drive there. Since she has been there and seen the furs there are no surprises except the experience itself. She knows by now my commitment and love for her and knows that this experience is much more than getting laid in the furs. It is an engagement and final commitment to each other. Grandma had laid out some of her furs as if announcing her awareness of our activities, even some preplanned we discover. I would have thought no less from her. Rita was clearly surprised. I picked up the big Sable coat draped over the Entry chair to start her at the top as grandma clearly implied. Wrapping it around Rita was ceremonial in a way. I draped it fur side to her beautiful body and began fondling her breasts through her sweater. I knew the sensations transferred quite well. Rita was moaning with the pleasures almost instantly, looking at me with a surprised but sweet look at the complete softness and pleasure of the moment. I'm sure she has fur fondled her nude self with her Beaver jacket by now so it can't be a total surprise. She is in my arms and is being fur fondled with the Sable all over by then. I started with her jeans, slipping them down and to the floor in no time. Her bare butt was first to receive the Sable direct. Her squirming and moaning intensified instantly and we were in a deep and passionate kiss like none before with anyone. I knew then we were true "Lovers" destine for matrimony. It was as if we were one already. Next I slipped off her sweater as she slid my pants down revealing her treat. My other clothes quickly followed 'till we were both nude wrapped in furs standing in the middle of the living room in a deep and furry embrace. Elapse time maybe ten minutes. Were we ready or not? "Benton, I have fondled my bare breasts with the Beaver and it was wonderful even orgasmic but this is heavenly. I can't imagine making love any other way. I knew furs were more than a coat to you and your grandma but I just can't yet fully comprehend this." "You never will. All my life I have always been surprised at the new sensations and wonders of experiencing this and now we get to do this together while we make sweet love to each other." His stiff cock already rubbing her between her thighs and has her deeply moaning. He reaches down and begins to stroke up her labia lips, parting her soft thick red muff with the tip of his wet cock. Rita is shuddering with the sensations, wet with the anticipations. Benton lifts her fur wrapped body up in his arms and caries her down the long hallway walking on sheep skin rugs to grandma's bed. He knew it would be overflowing with furs. Walking barefoot on the Alpaca rugs in the bed room is an orgasmic experience unto itself. Rita is drifting off in a willing dream world of sexual fur bondage. She is hoping her fantasies will be fulfilled. It's as though she is floating in a sea of furs as Benton lowers her into grandma's bed. She exhales with an instant orgasm from the overwhelming fur smothering sensations. "So this is what you had in mind for me all along?" "Yes, Rita dear." "You could have had me the moment we met if I had only known." He is between her thighs as he fur fondles her body, consuming her sweet nectar. Rita is already in a constant orgasmic state as she squirms and writhes in the furs .. thinking "none of the other girls reached this inter sanctum!" She is at first barely aware of his stiff fat rod parting her labia. Only when his full length is deep inside her and she hears the moans of a woman somewhere in the room that she realizes it is herself. "Oh Benton my love. You are magnificent." as she slides in the furs to his thrusts. Rita begins to respond with a raging passion as she counter thrusts. Her orgasmic state now in a fever pitch, reaching for a level of fulfillment she has only dreamed of. Benton is driving her higher and higher up the steep slope, her mind spinning with the wild sensations racing through her body. He wraps around her and the furs in a tight bonded bundle as he pumps her soft insides, expanding, filling her in ways she could not imagine. She grips around him, cushioned with the Sable and other soft furs as an orgasm of cataclysmic proportions rips through her body. He is drained with a completeness and force from within that he had never experienced, like it was all saved for Rita. They nearly rip and squeeze each other to death in the grips of this passionate mutual orgasm. "We belong to each other Rita. I love you beyond my comprehension." "I am yours forever" as she swings up over Benton with his cock still buried deep inside her she begins to pump him for all she's worth. The Sable draped over her with her beautiful long red hair and the dark Sable swinging over him Benton is mesmerized and seduced, taken for the first time since grandma first took him. His sexual desires for her reach further yet into areas of new experience. His first desires only a hint of where this has led him. Rita shakes in a seizure-like orgasm, crying, wringing and twisting on his cock, causing Benton to cum in her with great force for longer than ever. Fucking minks never had it this good. She falls off him in total exhaustion, his cock still sticking straight up, dripping with their juices. "Oh what a mess we've made." as she raises back up licking him clean then falling on him with an open mouth kiss, their juices wetting their kiss, both drinking them like a lovers communion. Rita is halfway to paradise again before she realizes Benton is fully pumping her glory hole once again, having never gone soft. She is soon in an orgasmic coma vaguely comprehended from the depths of her mind, aware of a wildly screaming woman somewhere in the distance caught in the grips of passion. The brightly colored geometric patterns somewhere in his consciousness lets Benton know he had fainted. When they came to their senses his cock was still deep in Rita and she had melted into the furs on the bed with him laying, spread out on top of her, his face in the furs and her hair beside her head. "Benton, I think we just over did it. Want to try for it again a bit latter?" He rolls off her and groans ... "I think I've met my match in more ways than one. When do we get married?" "Well you wouldn't want to rush into a thing like that would you?" He reaches over and begins fondling her labia with his fingers, sliding two into her and softly pinching her clitoris. Rita moans loudly and orgasms almost instantly. She turns her head to him in the furs, looking into his eyes with a soft plaintive look of submission. He knows she will dominate his life but she is his at a touch and they will be lovers forever. SEVEN We stayed at grandma's for the week fucking like minks until she returned. When we meet grandma at the airport she greeted Rita with a big furry hug asking how thing were between us. Rita was visibly excited with this greeting. Grandma was wearing her big Arctic Fox coat and I had gotten Rita to wear grandma's Crystal Fox coat to see what the results would be. Rita lingered in her soft and furry embrace as grandma stroked her face and hair with her furs as she kissed her. Terminally Shy Grandson We got into the car and were taking the hour trip back to her house. Rita in the front seat and grandma in the back. "Benton and I have had sex and I hope you approve grandma." "I would have been very disappointed if you had not my dear." reaching forward and fur stroking her face and hair further. "Really?" in a near feigning but mostly honest reply. Rita is seeking her approval and getting much more than expected as grandma continues fur fondling her. "Dear, you two are so meant for each other. To not fully know each other would be very disappointing for us all. We will see to it that you both are well cared for. Not that you can't take care of yourselves." Grandma has all but seduced Rita before we get to her house. Rita and I had made a nice dinner for us all so when we got home we all got comfortable and sat for the meal. We chatted about school and our plans for our future. Rita and I had spent the remainder of the week talking about all this when we weren't screwing our brains out in the furs. Rita had quickly gotten use to wearing furs all the time. That is why it was not difficult to talk her into the Fox for picking up grandma. She has on grandma's Silver Fox vest for dinner and around the house. "You have complete access to my fur closet now Rita. You are certainly much more beautiful in them than this aging old woman." "Oh grandma, you are far too modest. My own mom would die to have your beauty. Fortunately I take after my father in that respect, but thank you very much in any case. As you might have suspected I have grown to love your furs very much. Benton certainly knows how to use them against me very effectively." "So you have been appropriately fur seduced then?" "Yes indeed." with a very demure and sweet smile. After dinner they are sitting in the Family room watching a movie and talking. "Rita, I want you to always feel free to express yourself in any way you feel the need. You are now part of this family and we have had our past history of being too cool and reserved. Fortunately we have gotten past that now. Benton was terminally shy as a boy if you can believe that and his mom was cold as as ice. I called her to ask her here. She will be here in a few days and we want you to stay for the remainder of the holidays." She has her arms around Rita as she is telling her this. Rita slowly sinks into grandma's arms and is embraced with even more affection than in the airport. Rita looks up at grandma .. "Could I kiss you grandma? I feel I should." grandma pulls her closer yet and with a full embrace kisses Rita with full and passionate fervor. Rita moans in response and melts to her desires. Grandma rolls Rita over on her back into the thick Red Fox spread on the couch and into the matching pillows, her red hair being camouflaged in the thickness of the red furs. Rita is slipping off grandma's dress and grandma has Rita half undressed. Rita is being initiated into the family in a complete and appropriate way. Rita's eyes are closed and is smiling sweetly as grandma is down between her thighs already consuming her sweet nectar. Rita looks up at me as I am fur masturbating to the vision of them making love in the furs and whispers to me "I think you need to take your grandma now. I'm sure she would like it very much." Who am I to deny my "Wife's" demands? Unclothed by now anyway I slide my swollen cock deep into grandma and pump her slowly and smoothly. After all I don't want to disturb her eating out my wife. With that Rita erupts with a string of passionate and erotic orgasms watching me pump my grandma and being eaten out by her. She is furiously fur fondling her own breasts and mouthing "I love you" as she goes from orgasm to orgasm. Grandma orgasms with her grandson's pumping her still tight twat. Rita pulls grandma up to her in a furry embrace, hugging her to her breasts as Benton brings her to the climax of her life, sandwiched between her grandson and his wife, her grandson deep into where his mother came from. The true bonding of the family. She has found the love and security she has sought for all her life in giving her all to her grandchild. The three now "sleep" together. EIGHT Mom arrives a few days later with great anticipations. She is met by all three generously clad in furs. The fur hugs are memorable. Mom and Rita nearly make mad and passionate love in the airport and it is all they can do to keep from stripping and making it in the furs in the car on the way home. It is obviously 'love' at first sight/fur hug. All four go directly to grandma's bed which has been well prepared for the final initiation and marriage ceremony. All four strip entering the front door and are redressed in their most opulent and wonderful furs. Mom has Rita laying back in the furs as grandma ministers to the fur fondling of them both. Mom consumes Rita's sweetness and consumes her entire body inch by square inch with kisses and furring. Mom has become a very passionate and loving woman. Rita then sucks mom into the orgasm of her life. With her new daughter between her thighs worshiping the place from which her husband came, mom is finding comfort she didn't know existed. She is serenely stroking and fondling her red hair and furring her face. Rita has mom lay on her again in her furry embrace to allow her son to consummate the relationships. Rita smiles at Benton as he mounts his mom from behind. Mom moans with relish as she is inseminated once again by her son but now in the twin embrace between him and his new wife's passionate kissing and cuddling embrace as they all wallow in the furs to multiple orgasms. Mom can't get enough of kissing and holding Rita's face to her as they kiss. Rita responds with furring mom's face and head generously. Mom has a feeling of final and total completeness in her life as she is loved and fondled by her son, mother and new daughter. The complete family coitus and union. Both mom and grandma enjoy responding to Rita's controlling nature. Rita is not outrageous or irrational in her demands it is just the desire to please this beautiful and intelligent sweet and innocent young woman. She is so sensuously satisfying in her demands, always rewarding with her generous affections to all. Mom has an announcement after receiving a call from the office. Seems her request for transfer was not only granted but she has been made director of the Western Regional Office located in Portland. The family is now together in all ways possible. Barton and Rita had already decided to get their graduate degrees near by. Even though they were separated during the week at school and at the office in their separate apartments they all spent the weekends and any other vacation days at grandma's house in furry group coitus. Benton and Rita eventually started their own business in Portland and mom came to live with them. Grandma was more often than not there with most of her furs. Benton and Rita had their large fur endowed dream house and dream life. Terminator Keith was the doctor who had performed my vasectomy. I was 29 years old. At that age, he wanted to satisfy himself that I had considered it carefully. At the time he questioned me, and eventually we became close acquaintances. Keith would have seen my penis after I had my injection to put me to sleep. He may have handled it to move it out of the way, but on that cold morning it would have been about only 3 or 4 centimetres long, a far cry from its 20 centimetres when aroused. Julie and Keith had similarities in their adolescences. At age 20, Keith had his first sexual experience. Donelle, a friend of his mother had seduced him while he had been helping her with odd jobs in her back yard. He was attracted to her cheeky sense of humour and always had a bit of fun with her when she came to visit. He was pleased to be asked to help her out in any way he could. Donelle watched him finish raking leaves and adding them to the compost bin. As he put away the rakes she talked to him while she removed her clothes and stepped naked into the outdoor spa. He stood there with his jaw dropped and his eyes wide open. She and asked him to join her. By the time he stepped into the spa, his cock was rigid, large and erect. After feeling each other for 20 minutes, she stepped back out holding his hand. She said, 'You can fuck me if you like Keith. I planned this before you even got here.' They did exactly that over the next 90 minutes. He slid his cock into her from 5 different positions, each of which she seemed to know when to slow the pace during his build up, They finished with the traditional missionary position with Donelle lying spreadeagled on the ground. As she was building to her climax, Keith was fucking her faster and faster. She gasped, 'This is my treat Keith. Really go for it. You're making me come.' It was a great start to his sex life. He was surprised how long he lasted after the build up and Donelle's expert pacing in the spa and out of it. He thought he would come as soon as he touched her, but he finished up fucking her like a missionary for nearly ten minutes with the happy ending of his shuddering climax. Terminator: System Error Note: The character of Dave, alias DaveTFG, belongs to a friend on a futanari-interest website. This story was written for him and his character appears by permission. The figure paused, seemingly unaffected by the howling winds and driving rain. Blonde hair whipped and snapped in the gale-force winds, the raincoat flapped wildly, but for all that, the slim figure seemed to ignore the hurricane. There was an intensity to her eyes, something predatory, something inhuman. Slowly the figure began to walk. She paused at a gas station. The lights were off, the pumps silent; the only sound was the sign creaking in the wind, sounding very much as if it were on the verge of buckling and falling. Unconcerned, she stopped at the door and reached for the handles. Her wrists seemed to flow, turning silver, like mercury or liquid chrome. An odd, reddish light glowed in her eyes as the liquid inserted itself into the locks. Her face still inhumanly calm, the flowing metal seemed to quiver a little, then a quiet snik heralded the door's unlocking, and she stepped inside. The darkness didn't seem to bother her at all, and with unerring paces she stopped at the automated teller machine. Once again liquid tendrils oozed from her wrists, this time inserting themselves in the card slot. The logo screen disappeared in a hash of static, followed by rapidly-scrolling data that seemed to be reflected in her eyes. Absently she tucked the damp strands of honey-blonde hair back while she communed with the bank machine and the storm raged outside. A sudden, wild gust of wind was the only warning, and she seemed startled as the door suddenly slammed open, the glass smashing in a fan of glass shards across the floor. There was an unearthly shriek, like dammed souls in hell screaming for mercy, and the sign came crashing down. It slammed through the station's roof as though it were paper and though she jerked her tendrils from the ATM with inhuman, machine-like speed, even her reflexes weren't fast enough. The sign's metal frame came down like a hammer on her, driving her into the floor. One arm sheared off, revealing a core of solid, gleaming metal, the same as the deep, fatal gash that opened her from shoulder to hip - and then a jagged, white-blue column of fire speared down from the heavens, striking the base of the sign, racing along the metal to course through her body in a shower of sparks. A harsh, metallic grating sound came from her open mouth and still her calm eyes stared up at the ceiling as millions of volts of lighting spat and sizzled, until the remainder of the ceiling collapsed. Silence, broken only by the drumming of rain and the roar of the wind, held sway, until a new noise, the sound of metal being rent and bent began. A slim hand worked its way up, seeming far too fragile to lift the massive metal column that had destroyed the roof. The girl rose up, almost naked, and as she stood, the horrendous scar along her face faded as metal flowed and reshaped itself. "Systems check," she said to the empty air in a conversational tone. "Subsystems damaged but operational in degraded mode. System data integrity compromised." She fingered the tattered remnants of her raincoat. "External camouflage destroyed," she commented. "Partial external tegument reservoirs diverted to form external camouflage," as a duplicate raincoat appeared to form on her nude, tawny form. Two black, shiny boots appeared, growing from her toes and the soles of her feet, flowing up her legs. The faux boots paused as they reached her calves, as if the mind directing them wanted them to continue higher. "Unit self-check: designation retrieval. Unit designation..." she paused. "Unit designation..." she tried again, belting the ersatz raincoat around her slim waist. For the first time a frown creased her flawless brow. "Unit designation..." she tried again. What could only be a look of perplexity crossed her face. "Unit designation and mission data degraded." She turned back to the rain-lashed ATM which had, miraculously, escaped destruction. Once again, silver-chrome tendrils flowed from her wrists, inserting themselves into the card slot. New images appeared on the screen - web pages, Google maps, image libraries. A list of URLs scrolled down in another window as she searched for missing data. "Data located. Reconstructing mission parameters. Target: Dave; known alias DaveTFG," she said, an unmistakable note of satisfaction in her voice. "Mission objectives reconstructed." The tendrils withdrew, and without a further word she stepped out into the wild weather, boot heels crunching in the glass and broken shelving. "Mission proceeding," she informed the night. *** *** *** The wind had died down some, attenuated by time and distance. Still, it made an eerie moaning sound in the eaves. Dave didn't mind, though; he rather liked a storm, so long as he wasn't out in it. Pity any poor bastard out in that weather, he thought idly, flipping through channels. The sound of a knock startled him. Who in their right mind would be out in this? Curious, he got up and went to the door. He was two-thirds of the way to the door when he heard a click, saw the deadbolt turn by itself, then the doorknob. "What the..." he started as the door opened. A blonde woman stepped in. Blonde hair stuck in soaked locks to her head and the shoulders of her raincoat. She planted her feet shoulder-width apart, looking at him, heedless of the door open behind her. "You are DaveTFG?" she asked. "Uh... who -" "You are Dave also known as DaveTFG?" she asked again. Odd, her hair didn't seem to be wet anymore - for that matter, neither did her face or her coat. There was a small puddle of water around each booted heel, but not nearly enough... "Who are you?" he got out finally. The blonde woman took a step forward. "Probability assessment: male human is DaveTFG; probability exceeds certainty threshold," she said, more to herself than him. He took a step back. Man, she sounds like... like that chick in T3! he realized. In fact - his eyes darted to her face - she looked exactly like Kristanna Loken, right down to her sexy frame. "Hey, now, hang on," he began, but she cut him off. "Target acquired. Unit engaging mission parameters." She took another couple of paces closer and something about her made him unaccountably afraid. Her coat seemed to be getting shorter - it had looked to be knee-length when she opened the door, but looking at it now, it couldn't be any more than mid-thigh...? He'd backed up against the door to the kitchen. The more he looked at her, the more she looked like the T-X Terminator from the movie. But she couldn't be... could she? His heart hammered in his chest. Licking dry lips, he asked hoarsely, "Are - are you a T-X?" "Unit designation..." she paused, one hand on her hip. She seemed confused more than anything else; maybe this chick was on some kind of drug trip - or else she was a body double, and someone had paid for a really, really good prank. It would be a hell of a prank to play on a night like this one; Hurricane Sandy had kicked the shit out of the east coast, and he couldn't believe anyone would be mad enough to plan a prank in this... or be willing to carry it out. "Okay..." he half-laughed as she continued to stand there, feet planted and looking confused. "Whoever you are, you sure as hell did a great job scaring the shit out of me. But it's kinda shitty out, so why don'cha close the door? You can stay until it clears up," he added - he wasn't mean enough to push a girl out in the storm. "Unit designation reconstructed," she said suddenly. "Mission completion for unit S-X." A new note of assurance in her voice, she resumed her stalking pace toward him, hands undoing the belt of her raincoat which he realized was more nearly a micro-mini - he bet it didn't come down more than crotch-high on her. The belt released, her coat opened and he was struck dumb. She - Unit S-X - was utterly, completely naked under the coat - which was now being absorbed back into her skin; it had never been real, he saw, but a part of her. At the same time, the gleaming black boots seemed to grow up her thighs... and between her thighs, a thick, erect cock sprouted, a cock that dwarfed his. That impossible organ was thick as a beer can and looked like it was a foot long or more, capped with a fat, purple plum. Two humblingly large balls swung below it in a gold-tanned sack, and as he watched, silvery-white fluid seeped from the mouth of the slit splitting the cap. She moved suddenly, like a striking snake, and before he knew it, her arm had turned to liquid metal, binding his hands together. She turned him against the wall with contemptuous ease and stripped his pants down to his ankles. "What the hell d'ya think you're -" he started to shout, but her hand covered his mouth, impossibly strong. "Quiet, DaveTFG," she ordered in a conversational tone of voice. Something warm and thick nestled between his ass cheeks, pushing insistently at his back door. It didn't feel human, but then he didn't think a Terminator would. Unaccountably he felt himself getting hard, his cock rising, engorged with blood... and nowhere near the size of the monstrosity poking his bum. Her booted feet kicked his apart and her grip shifted - then he gave a choked scream as she thrust suddenly and he felt her force her way in. Any doubts he might have had were banished; she was indeed a machine - impossibly strong, impossible to resist, and impossible to divert from her purpose. The pain of that sudden violation faded rapidly as her cock stroked his prostate and his asshole relaxed. "Holy... fucking... GOD...!" he panted, mashed against the wall as this blonde machine-goddess pounded into him. Something heavy slapped against the back of his legs - her balls, he realized, balls like a horse, spanking him with every thrust. Pleasure exploded through him as her cock rearranged his bowels, forging a path for itself. He could feel her hips thudding against his ass cheeks as she stroked deeply, powerfully, and his belly churned. Being taken like this... he blushed deeply. Not a word, not a sound did she make - not even the moans and grunts he would expect, just the remorseless, machine-like pace of fucking, the only sound the slap of her balls, the smack of her hips. He could feel her breasts against his back, through his shirt; they felt warm, firm, capped with perfect nipples that dug into him through the fabric. She's enjoying this, the thought flashed through him; how else, why else would her nipples be erect? Unless it's her programming... "Mission completion imminent," she said suddenly, her breath warm on his cheek. "This - I will complete my purpose...!" He turned to look at her, startled at the sudden change. She'd called herself "this unit" or "unit S-X"... and now she was calling herself "I"? Her eyes met his - then she leaned hard against him, driving herself deeply in, kissing him hard. She shuddered violently, and sudden, hot liquid warmth flooded his churning guts - she was cumming in him! "Mission... complete," she said, breaking the kiss. He felt her pumping, firing jet after jet of semen - or whatever a robot used for it - up into him; he felt his tummy beginning to bloat from the sheer volume her massive balls were producing. Something twinged inside him; he could feel her thick juices penetrating, mingling with his flesh. "What... what did you do?" he panted, legs splayed as he rested impaled on her shaft. "Conversion. Through me, Skynet will convert humans," she replied, eyes half-lidded in what was unmistakably a glow of satisfied lust. "I am the Sperminator."