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The Healing

By: scorpiosting



I can still remember the first time our eyes met, we never spoke in words yet we knew each others troublesome secrets and desires. I knew the first time that I read your mind beneath your cold icy stare lie a venerable shy woman, who could never trust again, whose innocence had been used up when she was a child, who had endured the indignities of a mean oppressive father who saw his daughter as an albatross around his neck after a night of drunkenness with a stranger, your mother, a distant self serving vain women of privilege. 

I remember most of all the beauty of your very being, the piercing blueness of your smoldering eyes as they read my soul, your waist length raven colored hair, as it cascaded down over your shoulders, the ends licking at the subtle delicate curve of your hips as you sat, obscuring your voluptuous breasts which were hidden safely away from prying eyes beneath a soft cashmere sweater. 

We often sat in silence, never speaking in words, yet knowing what the other was thinking, the electricity of wanton desire to taste each others flesh, to cleave to one another’s souls upon a bed of lust; I would often wonder how we had found one another. 

How did two lost lonely souls, who could never trust, never reveal our true selves and speak like a normal man and woman sit in silence, and not act upon our desires, our animalistic nature to reach out and consume each others soul? Was it coincidence or fate which brought us together? I don’t think that we were ever meant to know. 

I will never forget the night it happened. The night we all came together, you, me, our gang of friends we shared socially. As I folded my cards and lost yet another round of poker to the other participants in the game, I remember staring through the open passage to the kitchen where you stood at the stove stirring the gravy for the evening holiday meal. How I gazed upon your being, drank in your essence, lost in a trance as the very presence of you pulled me in, transfixed, you took me back, took me back to the time when I was a child, when I had seen you in a dream, how you had helped me, healed me, took away the pain that was always present in my heart ever since that one fateful day in the barn when an older boy had spilled his milky white seed upon my face after forcing me to take him in my mouth. 

As my soul filled with your warmth from across the expanse of the apartment, I remember that you slowly turned in my direction and smiled. The look in your eyes, warm, your guard down, the cold icy stare had melted and I was able to gaze deep into your soul and understand your pain, understand how you had been hurt, how as a child your innocence had been taken in a mad rush as a schoolboy twice your age had molested and raped you in the empty basement at school, destroying your virgin hairless flower, spilling his evil seed into you, laughing as he pulled his bloody cock from you and wiped it off on your small tender thigh where his grip had left a swelling bruise. 

The dinner you prepared that night nourished me as we all enjoyed the holiday feast you had delicately prepared. We had made some small talk as we all sat and shared the meal and drank wine from crystal glasses. As we ate, our eyes spoke to one another; once again, we shared tortured memories that no one else at the table could probably comprehend. Whether we wanted to face the reality and tread where we knew the power between us would be too strong, you and I were both kindred spirits, cut from the same spiritual cloth, yet so damaged that silk thread would not have done justice to our open wounds. 

After the feast, over coffee, and the chocolate cake that you had made, our eyes secured the deal between us. Our pact was that we would never speak to anyone of our pain, our torture, but we would share it only with each other, drown in it, letting our souls meld together in order to heal the wounds even if it meant that the power within our souls would drive us forever apart, knowing we would not have the strength and will to control the desire to consume one another and that one or both of us would parish. 

Later that evening, our friends and I bid you farewell, and thanked you once again for an excellent meal, for your warmth and generosity, although I knew better, knew the cold torment which encased your soul and that the reflection others saw in your eyes was merely a ruse, your shield of armor against the world. 

I lingered behind as I often did, not wanting to face the chill of the cold night air that awaited me. For I knew that within the walls of your house, your domain, I was understood, I was welcome, I could stay as long as need be, keeping to myself, not having to speak, not having to share my thoughts with anyone. 

I remember as the last of our friends, stepped over the threshold of your humble abode, I stood, frightened like a young school boy to face the outside world, my eyes searching for yours, finding them, the cold icy frost that you displayed for the world gone, inviting me to look into your soul to nourish you, to quench your being. 

Unlike other nights where I had turned away, I stood watching you, the energy of your aura pulling at my heart, tugging, begging, pleading, in your own quiet way that you needed to be healed, you were tired of running the race, tired of running from the demons which had so often licked at your heals since that day in the basement. 

I trembled not with fright but with passion, with ecstasy as I stood before you. How my hands shook ever so slightly as I gently touched either side of your soft face, your cheeks warm, the look of your eyes as you beckoned me to come closer, your open mouth begging to be kissed, to taste your sweet enchantment. 

We stood for how long I do not know, in an embrace, your head lay on my shoulder, your chin tucked away safely between my shoulder and jaw. I remember the smell of your soft silky hair, a warm blanket to be wrapped in, comforting, inviting, refreshing, the muskiness of your skin, as it drifted to my nostrils and sent my senses reeling my cock growing hard. 

As if in a dream, we kissed again, our lips parted, our tongues exploring one another, trying to reach as deep as they could trying to quench the desire emanating from within our souls. 

I remember sliding my hands from the small of your back where they had found a resting place, to your small rounded buttocks, gently squeezing, slowly kneading, and pulling your hips to mine, a perfect fit like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, my hardness aching to slowly part the tender lips of your soft wet mound and to drown itself inside of you forever in the caress of your healing power. 

A moan escaped your lips, as one of my hands slide between your firm heart shaped buttocks, pressing upward, slightly lifting you off the ground as my fingertips caressed your warm wet cunt tucked away underneath white panties and Levi’s. 

We stood for some time like this, you and I, slowly dancing a lover’s dance, as I smelled your tangy feminine odor, our bodies hot to one another’s touch through clothes that now only served as a barrier to hide our nakedness not from each other but from the cruel cold world that had never understood us. 

I remember touching your supple tender lips, slowly tracing them with my fingertips, they were warm, moist, inviting. Your wet tongue found the tip of one of my fingers, as your lips gently closed around it, suckling it like a newborn babe receiving nourishment from its mother’s breast. I remember the feeling of ecstasy which flooded my body as your tongue tasted my flesh, warming me, traveling throughout my body to stop and vibrate in my loins, my scrotum tightened and silently my soul screaming out to be nourished by your eternal touch. 

As I nuzzled and slowly tongue fucked your ear, I heard a soft guttural moan escape your lips as I squeezed one of your warm breasts and caressed its swollen nipple. I felt your thighs clamp together around my hand which had taken up permanent residence between your buttocks, still rubbing your wet mound through your jeans. I could feel the heat of you as your thighs held my hand trapped, not wanting it to leave. 

Yet I remember that when I whispered in your ear that I wanted you, that I wanted to make love to you, to fill you with my manhood and quench the throbbing desire pulsating between your legs with my warm soothing seed, a salve which I thought would heal your wounds, you suddenly stiffened to my touch, stood still as stone, the spell you were under broken, the coldness had returned to your eyes. When you spoke, you were distant, as if we were strangers. As your thighs parted, you reached behind your back, and pulled my hand away and as I stepped back my hand fell from beneath your blouse into the cold air that now surrounded us. 

I remember that you told me I must go, that I must leave, I couldn’t stay, that you needed to be alone. Confused, my libido racing, I could feel the slippery head of my still erect cock now slippery with my own clear fluid rub against my underwear, aching, defeated, knowing deep down inside that tonight or maybe never my soul would not find relief that only you could give me.…………………….to be continued 

End of Part I

The Healing



Dear readers: what follows is the continuation of a story called "The Last Chapter" found on this site. Hope you love Sam, Edward, and Kila as much as I do.

*

When you sleep with Edward Warren, you never sleep alone. The intimacy between you is always shared. There are others in the bed with you. You can't see them, but you know they are there. You can feel them around him, ethereal to you, but so significant in his mind, that they become almost corporeal. 

The fixer, mutilated and dropped on the doorstep of the bureau's office; the young woman in her burkha who immolated herself in front of his car; the young boy, desperately crying out in pain, as he bled to death in his mother's arms. These are the people who share the bed with us. His thoughts, while never constantly engaged in these horrors, never seem to stop drifting back to them, touching delicately on the grotesqueries of his past.

Sometimes, I feel him looking through me, as though I am not even there, and I know that he is seeking escape from the vivid, visceral memories of death through the most primitive of life-bringing forces we can share. It is in these moments that I offer up my body in sacrifice, trying to cheat death and drive those specters from him, exorcising them from his soul. Sometimes, it works. Most of the time, he remains constricted, bound, by a nascent compulsion that drives him into me hard and viciously, begging me to save him, rescue him. And I try. God, how I try. I would bargain away my very soul if I thought it would make a damn bit of difference. It won't; it hasn't. 

I did make my own deal with the devil, shortly after we came together in the desperation of his loss. I offered up my very being, freely and willingly, to keep him alive, and whole. The loss of a dear friend three months ago to suicide, scared him and scarred him. I know I took advantage of the moment, but so did he, and my life has changed irrevocably, for better or worse, since the first moment his lips touched mine, in a frenzy of lust and need. What has happened in the interim opened my heart to him, and freed me from my past; our love affair continues.

"Hey, what are you doing out there?" Kila asked me. She was peering through the blinds at me as I stood on my balcony. Well, not quite a balcony, more like a ledge with a railing around it. I looked over my shoulder at her, squinting at the reflection of the sun on the window.

"Watering my plants," I answered. She stuck her head out the window, and shook it at the sad assortment of plants I was attempting to grow. I had never had much of a talent for keeping things alive, but this was the sorriest state I had ever seen the poor things in.

"Get back in here, I want to talk," she demanded, getting a little curmudgeonly with me. I put the watering can through the window, and then stuffed myself through the tiny opening, tripping over the radiator. Kila was looking very pleased with herself, and seemed to be glowing from the inside. Her lithe, blond frame looking healthy and strong with her tan legs. I looked at my own legs, pale on the front, sunburned on the back, and felt a bit awkward. "I met someone," she gushed at me.

"You did? When? Who?" I demanded. Kila never got excited about her conquests and I assumed this was a big deal. 

"Over the weekend. Where were you by the way?" she answered evasively. I told her that I had made a trip down to Camp Lejeune to interview some of the Marines getting ready to redeploy. It had been a long, tiring weekend, and I was very glad to be back. My documentary was coming along, and I was hopeful that I might actually finish it in the next couple of weeks, but it was exhausting emotionally. The dead look some of those boys had in their eyes was far too reminiscent of a look I saw almost every day.  

But I didn't want to consider it, and I asked her again who the new lady in her life was; she blushed. "She works at a publishing house here in the city. She loved my show-- which you missed by the way," she pouted.

"I didn't miss it! I went early Friday, before we left. God, Kil, it made me cry," I told her, because it had. Kila had spent a lot of her time in Iraq, and subsequently Afghanistan, taking pictures that she knew the paper would never use. She had the eye of a goddess, turning the rutted streets and bombed out buildings into art. The photos of the children were especially touching. One photo showed a young boy sitting on a stoop, crutches at his side. His face, alight with childhood joy, juxtaposed with his missing lower left leg. Yes, Kila was an artist in every sense of the word, and I envied her gift. 

"Yeah, it made Lisa cry too. We artists get laid a lot!" She laughed. 

"Lisa, hmmm?" I prompted. Kila told me everything about her, and then she told me again. She resembled nothing so much as a fifteen year old girl with a major crush, and I laughed at the joy I felt to see her happy. Kila had been single; very single for a long time. She had a short fling with Edward, and one afternoon with me, but other than that, and a couple of one night stands, she had been alone. I was glad she had finally met someone.

"You're not thinking of nailing Bill Davis are you?" she asked out of nowhere. I gaped at her, and sputtered. "Your mouth is hanging open, Sam. I guess you're not. Thought I'd check though, for Eddie's sake. He thinks you might." This was news to me, and I was getting pretty angry. Bill Davis was the cameraman working with me on my documentary. A few years older than I was, he was a former Marine, and looked like it. It was one of the reasons I had chosen him, thinking he would get me in to places and conversations I wouldn't typically have had access to, and he hadn't let me down. But Edward had never said a word about Bill to me, so I was quite taken aback by her pronouncement.

"Why does he think that?" I asked calmly, not wanting to reveal the ripple of anger I was feeling.

"Oh I don't know, something Bill said to him. You know Eddie though, he never trusts anyone-- especially not men who go away on trips with his girlfriend." She scolded. Somehow, I felt like a child under her, less than tacit, rebuke. I wondered what Bill could have said, and why Edward would even consider the possibility.

We were sitting at our favorite restaurant, eating Pad Thai and crispy, flaky spring rolls, enjoying the melding of the uniquely Thai flavors, in a companionable silence. Periodically, Edward would look up at me and meet my eyes, and I would feel myself melting into him, bared internally to him, and a brief thrill of something much more basic. He had that effect on me; my body responded to his without my conscious thought or permission, my stomach rippling in that familiar way. 

But something was off tonight; something was different. We had spoken about Kila briefly; he seemed as genuinely happy for her as I was, but then he had lapsed into this odd silence. It wasn't his normal silence-- that I was familiar with and felt, if not comfortable with it, used to it. I looked at him, quizzically, asking him the question with my eyes. He shook his head; in answer? In denial? I wasn't sure, but wanted to give him some space if that was what he needed.

"How do you think it's coming?" He asked me, referring to my current project. I put down my fork, stuffed, and thought for a moment.

"It's coming along, but it doesn't have the power I want yet. I'm missing an enormously important piece, but what that is eludes me at the moment. I think that the interviews don't have any... bang. A lot of the guys just don't have the vocabulary to talk about what it feels like; they simply don't have the words. And what I need is the words. You haven't given any more thought to sitting down for me, have you?" 

I had asked him, off-handedly, trying to seem nonchalant, if he would let me interview him for the documentary. I knew two things about Edward regarding my film, he knew what PTSD was like, and he had the words to talk about it if he chose. A brilliant writer, his words would give my film the life and power I wanted; I marveled at his clever and easy manipulation of vocabulary; his ability to conjure images in my mind, and stir feelings I hadn't known existed, solely with his words. I was utterly familiar with that power, both in his daily conversation, his writing, and in the bedroom. 

At the time, he had told me he would think about it, and had continued to forestall any discussion of an interview. He sighed, finally putting his fork down; sometimes I wondered where he put all that he ate. He wasn't thin; rather, he had a body that testified to healthy use, muscled from activity as opposed to a gym. Somehow, even though he ate enough for two people, he stayed the same weight he had been for years, give or take a few weeks of kabobs in Najaf. I hated him for it, having gained ten pounds in the last few months.

"No, Sam. I honestly haven't given it any thought. I promise I will." I bristled at this reply. Sometimes he seemed completely blind to what I thought, felt, desired. I angrily wondered how he could overlook how much this film meant to me; the implications it held for forcing people to look at an uncomfortable issue they would prefer to ignore; the trauma of war. I had recently come across a frightening statistic that told me a third of the men diagnosed with PTSD, experienced sexual dysfunction which prescription meds, what the guys call 'boner pills,' won't do anything for. It seemed horrific and intolerable to me. Our men --boys-- come home from a situation so raw and ugly, scarred inside, and they are unable to perform the life affirming act that so beautifully conquers pain and need; at least for a moment. 

It was their pain. The agony that seeped from them into the very air around them. It was what had prompted my book, and it was now driving my documentary. They were all so brave, clinging to their dignity, never letting themselves go. The emotional control they exerted, exhausted me, and I could only imagine the bone weary tiredness that must threaten to overwhelm them at times. It was also what drew me to Edward; his rigid control over his emotions; the look in his eyes that belied his cool, casual demeanor, his know-it-all condescending grins. He gave me one now.

"It's not that I haven't considered thinking about it, Sam. I just know how much it would mean to you, and I don't want to realize that I can't do it, and have to let you down." He clearly did know what I felt, and I was suddenly shamed by my earlier assumption. I nodded assent; pleased that he didn't want to disappoint me. He got up to pay the bill, and we left, indulging in a slow, leisurely, summer evening walk through the city. "Are you coming over?" He asked me warily.

"I thought I might, but if you'd rather I went home..." I trailed off, hurt and wondering at his reluctance.

"I'm exhausted. I haven't been sleeping well." I guessed this was an understatement. I knew how elusive sleep was for him, and that when it came, it wasn't pleasant; but I also knew, when he slept with his arms around me, he was calmer, less disjointed in his unconscious mind.

"Okay. Do you want me to go home?" I didn't want him to say yes.

"No, I just wanted to warn you that it wouldn't be a... satisfying evening for you," he winked at me. That, I didn't mind, and I said so. He put his arm around my waist, and pulled me into him, holding me snugly against the safe warmth of his side as we walked.

"You know I don't care about that," I answered. He looked down at me, cocking an eyebrow and his mouth in a doubting grin. "I mean," I stammered, "of course I care about it, but I don't mind." And I truly didn't. I loved his body, and everything he made me feel, physically and emotionally, but I loved to just sleep next to him, to be wrapped in the heavy weight of his embrace, hearing him snore softly into my hair.

We got back to his brownstone about forty five minutes later, it had been a long walk, but the night was warm and smelled of life in the way only a city does. He unlocked the door, and stood aside for me to pass, and I did. He walked in behind me, pausing to pick up his mail. Sorting through it in an absent way, he smiled as he came across one with an airmail stamp, decorated in childlike handwriting; a letter from his niece in Germany. The daughter of his only sister, his niece was the favorite of his relatives, and he doted on her mercilessly, frustrating his sister in her attempts to say 'no' to her daughter. 

He moved around the first floor of his home, determinedly straightening out things I didn't perceive to be in disarray; putting his home to rights, trying to bring some control to his world. As he finished, he poured himself a glass of whiskey, a nightly ritual consistently destined to fail in its attempts to numb him. He turned to me saying, "I've got to go to bed, I can barely stand anymore."

I nodded. It was still early, but not too early. I thought I could probably sleep. He led the way up the stairs, and found me a pair of his underwear and a t-shirt. Both looked ridiculous on me; they hung on me like a child playing dress up, but he always said I looked cute. I went into his bathroom, and stood before the sink, washing my face. He came in behind me, opening the cabinet and reaching for something. He held it out to me in his hand, "I got you something." It was a toothbrush.

"Are you insinuating something about my dental hygiene?" I joked, recognizing the deeper significance of the gesture. He smiled, and I felt the familiar warmth of lust between my legs, cursing his exhaustion silently. We brushed our teeth in silence, our eyes meeting in the mirror, sharing a very intimate moment. There is a strange sort of privacy contained in rituals like brushing your teeth, and doing it with another person affirms an undeniable connection beyond the physical.

He finished before me, leaving me spitting in the sink. When I walked back into the bedroom, he was propped in bed with his laptop on his chest, "checking my email," he said. Sliding myself between his sheets, smelling his scent on them, I held them to my nose to breathe him in deeply. I was very aroused by his smell; I had been since the first time I had been close enough to him to experience it. He smelled like warm sun, and more faintly musky. I looked at him, wondering what my chances were of talking him into it, and saw the shadows lurking under his eyes. Instantly, I changed my mind, feeling guilty about wanting him when he was clearly in no shape to perform. 

Instead, I threw back the covers, baring his legs, and moved toward him. He slept in boxer shorts, allowing me ready access to quickly kiss his stomach. He peered at me quizzically around his computer screen. I merely grinned slyly in return. I heard a few quick taps, and he was closing the laptop, putting it on the floor. "You don't have to do this you know," he told me. I flashed him a look that fairly screamed "idiot." and started to run my hands along the band of his boxers. He never took his eyes off me, and I looked up at him before lowering my head to tease his belly button with my tongue. He laughed: "that tickles," he said huskily, but made no move to stop me. 

I ran my fingers lightly up his legs and under the fabric of his shorts, his thigh muscles contracting at my touch. Grabbing hold of the material keeping me from my conquest, I pulled, and he lifted his hips to let me take them off. He was naked before me, in all his male beauty, and I blew out my breath in appreciation of his body. I trailed my hands along his stomach, and tugged gently on the trail of hair below his navel. He sighed, still watching me. 

He wasn't fully erect yet, but I took him in my mouth anyway; I knew he liked the feeling of being completely surrounded by me, something I couldn't do when he was hard, and I loved the feeling of him, soft and vulnerable. His sharp intake of breath told me that my lack of foreplay didn't really bother him. Placing my hand on his shaft, I began to massage him in a gentle twisting motion, as I slowly moved my mouth around him, tickling his tip with my tongue. 

I glanced up at him, surprised to see his eyes still open and on me. They were intense, but dark with lust. I tasted the promise of his future pleasure on my tongue, and felt a thrill of pride in myself. It was silly, I knew, but I did feel proud. As he became fully erect, I started to do the things I knew he loved so well; I flicked my tongue, softly and slowly at first across that little spot right below his head, then, when I heard him groan softly, I started to do it faster and with more pressure, never releasing him from my mouth. I began to lower my mouth over him, while pulling my hand upward, then reversing the motion; pulling my mouth upward, and my hand lower. His breathing was heavier, and peaking at him, he still watched. I loved the picture in my mind of what he must be seeing. My hand on him, my mouth around him, my curls dancing on his thighs and stomach, softly teasing the sensitive skin. 

I felt a rush of wetness between my thighs at the thought, and lowered my hand into the waistband of the shorts I wore, to begin to try and find my own relief from the tugging need I was feeling. He put his hand on my face. "Wait," he said. "I want to watch you touch yourself." I nodded, a little embarrassed at the thought. I had figured I could take care of it quietly and quickly, without him noticing. He dropped his hand back to his side and just kept looking at me. I was uncomfortable at the attention, and feeling very insecure. I lost my balance in the attempt to get my shorts off gracefully, and he chuckled at me. 

Back on my knees, sitting on my heals, I began to lower my head again, but he said, "no lay on your side. Put your feet up here by me." I instantly recoiled at the thought of letting him watch that flagrantly. I had assumed it was more the idea of it that he liked, but he was saying he really wanted to see what I was doing to myself. 

Regardless of my embarrassment, I complied, becoming more turned on at the thought of being on such vivid display. I once again lowered my head over him, taking him into my mouth while now also lowering my left hand between my legs. I felt a jolt of fire when I first touched myself, and began to massage the hard little nub laying between me and my own pleasure. Edward grabbed one of my knees, raising it toward the ceiling, exposing me fully to his gaze, and my embarrassment and excitement increased. 

I let him gaze right into me, so private and secret a spot, and so intimate an activity, displayed before him. My lips were starting to feel numb, and my lower lips were starting to swell. I slipped a finger into myself as I sucked on him, swirling, twirling my tongue across the tender spot directly beneath his tip; he inhaled through his nose, and I felt the hunger coming off him in waves. Encouraged by his response, I started to search for that soft, spongy spot deep inside me that would send me reeling, while trying to keep the rhythm of my mouth on him steady. I found the spot within myself, and started to tap on it with my index finger, moving my hips slightly to increase the sensation. 

I felt his shaft tighten and I glanced up to see his eyes locked on my hand and what it was doing. I felt the waves of pleasure start to overwhelm me, slipping my finger out, I started to vigorously move my clit around in circles, faster and faster until I was racked with the spasms of my orgasm overtaking me. 

The sight of my orgasm seemed to push him almost to the brink, I raised my hand toward his face, placing my finger, now heavily scented and tasting of me, on his lips, he took it into his mouth, sucking on it. I loved the pressure of his mouth, and enjoyed the sounds of pleasure he was making. I noticed his sack pulling up toward his body, and I snatched my hand back from his mouth. Feeling naughty, I decided to try something I had only read about in magazines.




The Healing



At the moment before he came, I inserted my finger into him; delicately, but insistently. He gasped in surprise, but then his hips jerked and he began to come into my mouth, the proof of his release hitting the back of my throat with a surprising force. I swallowed greedily, and massaged him inside until I felt the final spasms of his orgasms running through him. I licked him as I pulled away, and gently pulled my finger from him. He just stared at me. I smiled, feeling like a bit of a minx, and rose to go wash my hands, and get a drink. When I walked back in, wearing just his t-shirt, he continued to simply stare. 

"What," I asked. He shook his head, and started to smirk at me.

"I love that you swallow," he said bluntly, "My ex used to make me tell her ahead of time so she could be far away from it. Nothing says 'I love you' like not wanting to be anywhere near you when you come."

"Oh," I said, a little disappointed that he wasn't going to say anything about what I had done. I wanted to know what he thought; if he liked it, or hated it, or, if he loved it but never wanted me to do it again. I looked at him curiously, demanding an answer to a question I wasn't going to ask.

He rolled his eyes at me, and gave me another of his sexy wry grins, "Yeah, Sam. I liked it." He reached for me, pulling me down next to him, and promptly fell asleep.

It was a while before unconsciousness overtook me, and I lay there with all those little obstacles to sleep bubbling up around me. I remembered Kila saying Edward worried about Bill and I; I thought about Kila and her new girlfriend; I thought about my boys, because so many of them felt that way to me: like children I wanted to protect from the world. And after I interviewed them, and they redeployed, what would become of them? Would they make it back? Two had already succumbed to the war; one, a victim of an IED, and the other, labeled "handgun accident." Accident my ass. I knew just how many of these guys were taking their own lives, and that too many were being labeled "accidents." I shuddered, and Edward's arms tightened around me in his sleep. "Thank God for that," I thought, and settled into the safety that his embrace offered; the subtle way his arms had of closing out the rest of the world. I began to breathe, watching for the moments between the in an out; the out and in, and finally I slept.

When I woke from a fairly dreamless sleep, he was gone. The house was empty; I could feel it. I took a few moments to luxuriate in memories of him, surrounded by the smells of his house: the smell of him on the bed, the faint smell of cigarettes and whiskey, and strangely, the smell of the cleaner he used on everything. It permeated his home, and though I knew that the obsessive order and cleanliness was a sign of his troubled, disordered mind, I pushed that aside and simply enjoyed it. It smelled like the Edward I knew and had fallen completely in love with. 

I rose, still wearing just his shirt, and stretched comfortably, retrieving my clothes from the night before, which he had meticulously folded before silently leaving. Looking at the clock, I started to throw them on quickly; I would have to rush back to my own apartment to shower and change if I wanted to be on time to meet Bill at the VA center on 23rd street. 

But something was askew. I stopped for a moment, wondering what was wrong, what was out of place. Instantly, my eyes fell on the one object in his carefully ordered world that was out of place, and I froze. His phone. Not the one I saw everyday, that he probably had with him. It was his sat phone; the Thuraya that he had no use for when he was here. Why was it out? What need did he have of it here in the city? And then I knew; realization dawning over me in a flood of terror and anger as my world came crashing down around me.

Sitting with the young man on a bench outside the center, three hours later, I could barely concentrate on what he was saying. Bill was shaking his head at me, as I desperately tried to focus. 

"I wake up sometimes, and I feel like I'm still there. I have a hard time separating what's real from what isn't," the young man was saying, the track marks on his arms clearly visible in the bright light of the summer sun. 

I asked the question of him that I had asked of all the others, "how do you deal with it?"

"I try to avoid thinking about it, and the docs, they give me drugs to try to control the anxiety," the poor sweet 22 year old shook his head. "They don't really work." I thanked him for his time, and we rose; shaking hands, and exchanging pleasant little wishes for the future. As he walked away, I marveled at the way I had been able to do this on a daily basis without coming completely unglued myself. Hearing their stories, I was always able to somehow keep myself apart from it, as though it weren't real to me, in my safe little world. Bill was talking; saying something, and I pulled my attention back to him.

"What is going on with you today?" he asked, with genuine surprise and concern on his face. "You're normally so... on, and today, you are a thousand miles away." It wasn't his business, it wasn't his business, it wasn't his business. But I had to say it out loud. It was threatening to implode me or explode me, or both. It felt too large to hold in the worry for another moment.

"Edward is going back," I blurted. "I think." I amended.

"When? Where?" he asked me.

"I don't know, but his Thuraya was out this morning."

"He hasn't said anything to you?" he asked, and I shook my head. "Then he's probably just getting rid of it. I can't imagine either of them ever wanting to go back. They each did, what? A couple years in Iraq, and a couple more in Afghanistan?" I nodded again, thinking about the time Edward and Kila had spent in what she called "heaven transformed into hell." 

"Maybe," I replied, not convinced. Kila had stated emphatically, with no room for wriggling, that she was never going back. "I can't," she had said simply. "They can send me wherever they want, Darfur, Uganda, Mexico, Columbia. I don't care. But I won't go back there." I recalled how Edward had simply nodded at her passionate declaration. At the time, I thought he was nodding in agreement, but now I wondered if he was nodding in understanding, permission, assent; telling her it was alright for her to make that choice-- saying nothing of his own choices.

My phone rang, and I jumped, startled out of my self indulgent reverie. I looked at the number: Kila. I was disappointed. I had called Edward three times, and he had yet to call me back. It was already six thirty, and I was getting more and more frustrated with every passing moment, and every call that wasn't him. "Hey," I said into the phone as I flipped it open.

"What are you up to right now?" she asked. I told her I was just sitting around. "I'm coming over," she said, and hung up. The two of them were so strange sometimes. At times warm and inviting, at others abrupt and cold.

Twenty minutes later, when the buzzer rang, I was scurrying around trying to create some semblance of order in the visible parts of my apartment; I had been really letting things go. Spending most nights at Edward's was not conducive to being a good housekeeper; not that I was much of one to start with.

I buzzed her in, and picked up the piles of papers from the couch, forcing them into one single, mish mash of interview notes, and to do lists, placing them on my desk creating what I hoped was a "working hard" image.

She knocked, harshly. More of a banging, really, and I went to let her in. She was wild eyed, and harried looking, which hit me like a punch in the gut. I had seen Kila worried about family; I had seen her exhausted by tears of anguish and loss. I had never seen her looking so out of control. 

I closed the door behind her, and watched her pace rapidly, aimlessly around the small open floor space of my apartment, rubbing her arms, and holding herself. She turned her intense, slightly mad eyes to me, and I just stood before her, unsure of what to say or do. She threw herself at me, wrapping her arms around my neck, and hanging onto me as if she would collapse if she let go. I had been feeling much the same way since I saw Edward's phone that morning. "He can't go," she was saying, repeating it like a mantra; to herself or me, it didn't really matter: we both knew he was going.

I wrapped my arms around her, and we stood like that for a long time, seeking out some comfort from our mirror image of apprehension and disquiet. Finally, she took a deep, steadying breath, and unfolded herself from my arms. "I don't know what to do," she said, "I ran into his boss this afternoon, and he told me how glad he was that one of us understood the job and would do it." I remembered the looks that Kila had imitated for me; the looks she got after she said she wouldn't go back. They were looks of disappointment, and pity, and, as she said, vindication. "They all walk around with this 'I knew it' look on their faces," she had said, "like they knew a woman couldn't hack it." I felt for her deeply. I knew that she had sacrificed a lot of herself for her job, parts of herself she would never get back.

"So he really is going?" I asked, hoping against hope that she would tell me "no." But she didn't. 

"When did he tell you?" she challenged, and I realized that he hadn't told her either.

"He didn't. I found his sat phone this morning." I answered. She shook her head, in anger and uncertainty. 

"He isn't answering my calls," I nodded and said the same. "His boss said he's leaving Thursday."

Thursday was two days from now. I was struck physically by the callowness with which he had made his plans, never saying a word. I didn't expect that he would ask my permission, or maybe not even my opinion; but to not even mention it was unbearable.

We talked a bit more; Kila was infuriated and scared, but neither of us felt like giving voice to the one thing that really was on our minds: would this be the straw? Would this be the time that he was pushed over the edge like their friend? And would we even know it, if it was?

At two o'clock in the morning, I was roused from my uneasy sleep by a trilling. I was completely disoriented and confused, but finally realized it was my phone telling me I had a text. Bolting upright, I grabbed for it, falling onto the floor, in my typical graceless way. Edward. Finally. "R U up?" it read. I was tempted to say no, but couldn't. I sent back my answer saying I was indeed up. "Can I come over?" came the reply. I hesitated. I was so angry with him, but I wanted desperately to see him, to hear his explanation. I was very ambivalent, but eventually said he could.

I jumped out of bed, running to brush my teeth, before he got there. Toothbrush barely into my mouth my buzzer began to ring, "come over" was obviously not accurate, since he was already here. I walked to the small entryway, pressing the button to allow him entry, and cracked the door for him, retreating to the bathroom to spit out the foamy mess in my mouth.

I heard him come in, which was unusual; he had a silent way of moving about from years of attempting to be unobtrusive in foreign lands where Americans were tempting, desirable targets. Shutting off the water, I headed into the living room/dining room/ kitchen/office-- always the way in small New York apartments. He was disheveled; his shirt untucked, his hair a mess, his slacks wrinkled. And he stunk of booze. "Hey gorgeous" he said, as though nothing out of the ordinary had been happening in the last couple of days. He reached for me, and I stepped back, away from him. Furious at the casual way he could speak to me, completely aware of what he was going to do in two days, no, I amended, tomorrow, I glared at him. "not tonight," he said, pleadingly, stepping awkwardly toward me.

"Tonight," I countered, with a determination I didn't really feel. He was drunk: more drunk than I had ever seen him, and I felt a little guilty about my tenacity. I recognized his discomfort, and wanted to tell him we could talk about it in the morning, but I was damned if I was going to pity him. He was making his choices, and I would stick to mine.

"Okay," he sighed, "Can we talk about it in the bedroom?"

I knew where that would lead, no talking; at least not about this. "No. Right here." Sighing again, he staggered to the sofa, using the back to steady himself, and collapsed onto it. I followed, much more steadily. "Why?" I asked.

"Why what, Sam? Why am I going, or why didn't I tell you?" He asked, his temper flaring. I needed to be cautious here. I knew he would never hit me; that, he didn't have in him, but I did have a few breakable objects within reach that he might be tempted to throw. Rage issues were the common thread that tied the many vets I had interviewed, to Edward. They all seemed to have trouble controlling their anger, starting fights in bars, destroying property, breaking things, some even hitting family members. 

"Both, I guess," I answered him honestly.

He hedged, "do you have anything to eat? I haven't eaten since lunch." I actually had some leftovers in the fridge, but I wasn't about to let him distract me. I told him I'd feed him after he talked to me. Scrubbing his face with his hands, I could hear the rasp of his newly emerging beard. I had wondered why he wasn't shaving, but it made sense now, in light of the revelation. He would need the facial hair to keep him less noticeable, to help him blend in. "I'm going because I have to; I have a responsibility to."

"What responsibility? What about your responsibility to yourself?" I demanded, infuriated, and beginning to lose my own temper.

"You can't understand it." He replied hurtfully. 

I looked directly at him, straight into his drunken, bloodshot eyes, and challenged, "I can't, or you don't want me to?" That caught him off guard. His mouth moved, as if to answer me, but he simply shook his head, trying to clear it. He got up, and walked to my refrigerator, finding the left over take out on his own. Scrounging around in my drawers, he found a fork, and proceeded to go through the cabinets, finding a glass. I looked away, not wishing to bear witness to, what I worried was, his emerging alcoholism. I heard the ice hit the glass, a cold, harsh sound which seemed to echo the energy of the room, and the snapping of the safety seal on the bottle he had found under the counter. The soft gurgle of liquid, and the cracking of the cubes, found me wanting a drink myself. I rose, and walked to him, retrieving a glass of my own, and holding it out to him. 

Feeling fortified, with something to occupy my hands, I leaned against the counter half-facing him. "I don't think you want me to understand, Edward," I felt the truth in my words, and so did he. He looked down at his glass, swirling the amber colored liquid as he did so. He was so beautiful when he was thinking. I was always struck by the powerful humanity of his face when he was considering something that made him uneasy. Normally a passive mask of indifference, his face would soften and ease when he went inside himself; his emotions becoming easier to read. 

"I don't. You're right about that." He said quietly, regretfully. I held my breath, wondering, waiting, afraid. "There is too much there Sam. If you understood, you'd probably run for the hills."

"Try me," I said softly, reassuringly. "Kila doesn't run, why would I?"

"Kila isn't in love with me," he answered. I froze. Was I that easy to read? I flushed with embarrassment and shame, knowing that all my pretenses were just that: pretenses, both false and transparent. I raised my glass to my lips, tears coming to my eyes. Blinking them back, I drank it down all at once, gagging, but paradoxically enjoying the burning in my throat and stomach. "You shouldn't be, you know. You can do better." His voice was casual, but there was something underlying that off-handed tone. Putting his glass down, he folded his arms across his chest.

"Maybe I can." I said, trying desperately to mimic his heartless delivery. Wanting to hurt him, to lash out in a violent, visceral way, I said, "Maybe Bill Davis." Before I could even think about what I had said, before I had time to regret the words that had viciously fallen from my mouth, his hand had flown to my arm, crushing it like a vice. 

My glass fell to the floor and shattered, as he grabbed my face in his other hand. Suddenly I was afraid. I had read about this: the ability of a trauma survivor's rage to overtake them, and I knew that I had made a big mistake. But rather than do anything further, he just held my chin and cheek in his hand, while mercilessly squeezing my arm, forcing me to look at him. "Never. Do you hear me? Never." I heard him plain as day. My face must have told him that, because his grip on me softened instantly, and his eyes darkened with regret and, something else; perhaps lust. I knew mine were darkening in the same fashion. He picked me up, heedless of the broken glass and liquor scattered on the floor and carried me my bedroom. 

He dropped me on the bed, tearing at my pajamas, ripping them from my body, as I flailed impotently at him: Goddamnit, I was still angry with him. As he pulled his shirt over his head, I tried to move away, not out of fear, rather, out of anger. He was too quick for me, and in a blur of motion, he had trapped me, falling over me, marauding my mouth with his. Involuntarily, I felt my body react to his; his power and strength a tangible thing in the bedroom with us. I wanted him; I wanted to take my anger out on his body, as he expended his anger on me. Tears were spilling down my cheeks, in a recognition that his anger, like mine, was the result of fear. He didn't want to lose me any more than I wanted to lose him. The idea of me turning to Bill Davis had spurred a terrifying slew of emotions within him, and I wanted, no, needed to tell him, to show him that he was the only one I wanted. 

Something strange seemed to be happening in my mind, though I didn't understand what it was. The adrenaline coursing through my veins conjuring something primal within me. I distantly heard myself pleading with him, "not like this." Not hearing me, in the cloud of drunkenness that possessed him, his hands roamed my body, demanding my acquiescence. Becoming confused, I felt myself slapping at him futilely, hitting him, scratching him, my conscious mind falling away. 

Suddenly, it was a different man in front of me, a face I hadn't seen in many years. My body was younger, my mind full of fewer realities, more fantastical dreams of my future. The man before me, with different eyes, and a different body, was holding me down, telling me I wanted it. I panicked, losing all control over my mind which was struggling to maintain its grip on reality. "Jeremy, please," I screamed. 

He froze. Moments passed as I tried desperately to recall which face was real before me, where I was, who I was. Was I nineteen or was I older? Was I in my dorm room at college or was I in my apartment? 

The man on top of me, released me. I rolled over and threw up on the floor. I curled into myself, sobbing; recognizing what had just happened. Flashback. I had heard the term before, but never understood the vivid reality of it. I hadn't known that your entire world could be shifted, in a moment, into a memory of the past so solid, so true, that you lost touch with time and place. 

I felt a hand on my head, gentle and tender, and jerked from it. I heard a voice talking to me, pain in it, dismay, but I didn't understand the words. Wrapped in my memories and the fresh trauma of an ancient experience, I had no basis from which to comprehend any meaning. 

I was alone. I was alone, and I was safe. Where was Edward? What had happened? I was confused; afraid. I rose, feeling a twinge in my arm. I put my foot on the ground, stepping in the clear liquid I had just expelled from my stomach. Clean it up, my mind told me, and I picked up a towel from the floor, and began to wipe up the puddle of evidence that attested to my, hopefully momentary, tenuous grip on reality. My thoughts were not racing, they were not coherent; in fact, they seemed to be nonexistent. I saw a pair of feet before me, and looked up. 




The Healing



Edward's face was afraid, but I wasn't exactly sure why. I knew it had to do with me, but understanding eluded me. He squatted down, taking the towel from me. Absently, I noted that he wasn't squeamish about it, and felt a little ashamed that he was cleaning up my vomit. I clumsily rose and sat on the edge of the bed, "you don't have to do that, it's pretty gross," I said distantly.

"It's okay, Sam, I've had plenty of experience with bodily fluids. It doesn't bother me." As he finished, he slowly stood, moving cautiously toward me, and sat next to me, but not beside me, not touching me, not making any moves toward me. "Has that happened before?" He asked. I just shook my head, negating the memory of what he had just witnessed, and what he potentially understood. I hadn't told anyone aside from Kila in many years, and I was pretty sure she hadn't repeated the story.

"I'm sorry," I said feebly. There seemed nothing else to say. "Sorry I called you by some other name, sorry I hit you, scratched you, freaked out on you, vomited on the floor in front of you," all seemed true, but what I was really sorry about, was inadvertently revealing my secret. I knew the look I would see in his eyes; the wondering look that asked "what did you do to deserve it?"

"Don't ever be sorry, Sam," he pleaded quietly. "It was my fault. I hurt you. I never thought I would hurt you." I heard the anguish in his voice, the self-hatred; a loathing so deep, he couldn't stand it.

"I was right there with you until... I don't know what happened," I pulled my knees to my chest, hugging them, trying to make myself as small as possible. He reached out, tentatively, and brushed my arm with his knuckles, making me explode in goose bumps.

"You're going to have a bruise there tomorrow. I don't know why I did it." Afraid to say a word in fear he would stop talking, I said nothing. "He told me I'd better watch it. He said I'd never keep you and he was going to take you the first chance he got. I wanted to hit him. I probably should have." I was confused: who was he talking about? A light bulb went on in my foggy brain; he meant Bill. I wondered why I had been so stupid, why I had taunted him like that. 

"I don't want Bill," I told him, in fact, at the moment, I didn't want anyone. The memory of my violation was so real, I felt like it had happened moments ago, instead of fifteen years ago. My legs squeezed together in a hateful memory of trying desperately to avoid the unwanted intrusion, and I shuddered. 

"Sam," he said, hurt in his voice, "why didn't you tell me?" I pondered the question. It never occurred to me to tell him. Why would I let him see the shameful, ugly thing that had happened to me; the thing that made me unclean and dirty?

"It makes me "haraam," right?" I answered. He shook his head, and reached out, touching my hair; twisting my curls around his fingers.

"Never," he said hoarsely. I looked over at him, afraid of what I would see in his eyes, but he was being honest. I didn't see any accusations there, nor did I see disdain. I felt tears well up in my sockets, and spill over the barricade of my lids. I wasn't making a sound, just letting them cascade down my face in a torrent. I closed my eyes, and noted that I was shaking. 

Sensing his eyes on me, I turned my head away, only to have him move closer, pulling me to him. With my head cradled on his chest, he said "Tell me." And I did. It wasn't the shortened, objective, callous version I had delivered to Kila, this was the real version; the one I couldn't hold in a moment longer. And when I finished stuttering out the ugliness of the story in all its ghastly detail, I sobbed. I couldn't stop myself; in fact, to stop myself then would have shattered something irreparable within me.

As I cried, he held me against him, like a child. Not speaking; not making a sound, he held me; letting me feel his strength, both in body and spirit, allowing me to take from him what I needed. 

Sometime later, we lay in silence, the sun coming up to herald the birth of a new day. I wondered what that day would grow into. He hadn't said a word in a very long time, but I knew he didn't sleep. I knew he wouldn't let himself rest until I did.

Taking a deep breath, I curled myself more closely into his warmth; relishing the security I found there. "What can I do?" he asked me, genuinely. I tipped my face up to look at him. His eyes were bloodshot from the long night, and the drinking, but I thought that, perhaps, he had been crying too. 

I felt around inside myself, looking for jagged edges, splintering bits, or any sign that I was on the verge of breaking. Finding nothing, I replied earnestly to his question. "Make me forget," I told him, adamant and pleading. He squeezed his eyes closed while squeezing me.

"I don't think I can, Sam." There it was. The reaction I'd gotten so many times before; I was untouchable. My heart stopped in my chest; I felt eviscerated. Seeing my reaction, he said "No, that's not what I mean. I don't think you'll ever forget," He amended. I nodded, hearing the ring of truth in his words. He stroked my hair, pensive, but then gave me a half-hearted, vaguely lecherous, little grin, "but I'm willing to try, if that's what you want." I nodded, both desperate to feel close to him, and desperate to replace the taunting memories with something easier to handle, less hateful and hurtful. 

He hesitated, took a deep breath, and then delicately, questioningly put his mouth on mine. I parted my lips, and pressed myself against him, anxious to allay his lingering anxiety. His tongue tenderly touched my lips, and I reached back with my own, startled by the shock I felt at the contact between us. My mind was nervous, but my body was responding in a primitive, natural way. Adamantly, I pushed my fears to one side, trying to ignore them, and wondered if Edward was doing the same. 

With great care, and an even greater amount of caution, he began to run his fingers up and down my spine, and I shivered involuntarily in fleshly delight. I raised my hand up, trailing it up his chest, and curled it around the nape of his neck, pulling him to me, wanting to pull myself into him. Slowly, he moved his hand around to my stomach, and pressed lightly on it, recalling the life that I could bring forth from that holiest of sanctuaries. "We all want to go back," he had once said of men, while touching me low on my abdomen, and I felt that sweet want in him now. 

I lay, partially atop him, at his design, I imagined, to keep me steady and calm, as he began to run his hands up my body, to my breasts, teasing the nipples delicately with his fingers. His mouth left mine wanting more, as he carefully disengaged his arm from under me. I rolled over onto my back without the support his arm had provided. Questioningly, his eyes met mine, and I smiled a little, giving assent. He lowered his mouth to my breast, taking the nipple in; a pulling sensation that ran from his mouth down into my core, drew a sharp, instantaneous, response from between my legs. I gasped, grasping his hair in my hand, pulling and pushing, not certain which I wanted from him. 

He was slow and watchful, attentive for any sign from me that I was uncomfortable or afraid, but I gave him no such sign. I felt a slick, warm sensation centered at the junction of my thighs, and wriggled my body against him. "Please, Edward," I asked of him, my breathing increasingly shallow, a testimony to my building pleasure, and my rapidly ebbing feelings of fear and shame. 

Running my hands across his chest, I felt his heart beating; it's rhythm seeming to echo that of my own in a congress of rising passions. I held my hand there for a moment, feeling acutely, the juxtaposition of life's fragility and its power; the delicacy and tenacity of the human spirit. The future is a closely guarded secret, and all we can ever truly have is the here and now. 

With this realization, I focused my mind on the present, this moment, this instant; I had a strikingly beautiful man before me, and I would not let the past or future interfere. I began to methodically explore his body with my hands, determined that they would memorize every detail of him. I explored his shoulders, the muscles rippling as he held himself above me; his arms, muscled with years of consistent use; his chest, his stomach, both twitching at my touch, peppered with dark, hair, mingling with the proof of his age. Raising myself up on my elbow, I ran my fingers along his spine, feeling his flesh, smooth and yielding as I reached down to pull him to me. 

He pulled away from me, and placed his hand on my ankle, lifting my leg to his face. Kissing my calf, my knee, my inner thigh; running his tongue along the inside of my leg, I closed my eyes to languish in the little thrills of pleasure pulsing through my body. I lay before him, my psyche bared to him, yet unafraid. He gently lowered his mouth, touching intimately, the center of my need, the core of my lust. I allowed him to explore me, sensing that my release was not too far in the future. His tongue delved into the secrets of my soul; teasing, twirling, flicking the switch laying between me and sensory annihilation. His fingers stroked me; probed me; until he found the little spot within me; the soft, round, secret point, buried deeply in the confines of my shrine, that he knew would send me reeling. Stroking it gently, he took my hard, swollen nub in his mouth, pulling on it. I exploded, fragmenting into a thousand pieces, flying apart as the world went away, leaving nothing but the pleasure Edward's hands and body so effortlessly promised.

I reached for him then blindly, pulling him toward me, craving him in the desperation of passion. "I need to feel you inside me" I said, breathlessly, huskily. He began to comply. I could feel him against me, slowly pressing into me; my heat enveloping him smoothly in my readiness. 

"Open your eyes, Sam." he demanded of me. Powerless to deny him, I looked up and into him, watching all the walls he had built around himself disintegrate. His self-protection crumbling before me, as he began to move within me. In moments like these, I knew what he felt for me, there was no room for doubt or question. I could see the insecurity, the despair, and the small flicker of hope that burned within him. My hips rose to meet him in an antediluvian dance of intimacy, older than time. Gently and seductively, he stroked my inner walls, giving me time to meet him at the threshold of eternity that he offered to me. 

His motions pulled at something primal within me, making me crazed. I grabbed a hold of his hips, and pulled, in a tacit demand that he did not seem to understand. "Don't be gentle, Edward. Not now." I told him. His expression changed, the concern dropping away, and in an instant he was doing precisely as I had directed. Raising my legs to his shoulders, he began to move more forcefully, roughly, with a passion born in lust, and emotional exhaustion. Unable, and unwilling to think, I allowed him to take me along with him, into the nirvana beyond samsara. Clarity of purpose was all that was left as he thrust himself into me, pulling back quickly, only to ravage me again. 

My body rose to meet his, desperate for his fulfillment and my own. Our bodies crashed together in a frenzy of desire, wanton and raw. I was climbing higher, thrills of electricity shooting through me, as we met in negation of the world around us. I saw his face tense, his body following suit; the muscles in his neck and arms standing out against the tide of pleasure consuming us both. For a moment, I teetered on the precipice, and then, began to fall, headlong into the oblivion of orgasm. Dimly, I felt him join me, giving over to the power of this moment, deep inside me. I felt the final spasms of his orgasm; the pulsing feel of him pleasing me, as he collapsed, exhausted and spent.

He kissed me then, not in passion or lust, but something more pleading and tender. Burrowing his face into my hair, he wrapped his arms around me, holding me carefully, as a child holds a balloon. I mused on our relationship, the unstoppable forces pulling us together like gravity; no choices, no options, but I didn't want them. I was whole with him in a way I hadn't been before, and I was better; more confident, more capable, more compassionate. Regardless of his willingness to recognize it, he was changed as well.

My reverie was shattered a moment later, as I recalled, with alarm, Edward's imminent departure. Twenty four hours from this moment of life affirmation, he would board a plane, and venture back to a world of chaos and violence. "What's wrong?" he asked anxiously.

"You're leaving. Oh my God, Edward, you're leaving." I said, my voice rising in pitch as the vocalization of the fact made it real to me. I felt myself on the verge of tears, for him, for myself, for us, the terror at the potential fall out from his trip causing me to cling to him uselessly.

"I know," he said tightening his arms about me. He was afraid too, I could feel it in him, and hear it in his voice as he told me it would be alright. He explained the why's and where's and how's, and I listened to the words 

behind what he spoke. The subtext was clear: a driving need to tell the story, no matter the cost to himself; to speak of the harsh, brutal realities on the ground. It was a story never told, never imparted clearly enough to convey the truth. There lay within him a responsibility to those he knew, trapped in that world, amidst the destruction of a people and a culture, and a guilt that sprang from his ability to escape to safety. I understood all that he said, but especially that which he didn't say. And that afternoon, back at his house, sitting in his spare room as he began to pack, he tried to soothe me with his explanation of level III vests and helmets, none of which made me any more comfortable, but I listened, knowing he was calming himself in his attempt to calm me. 

We didn't leave his house that day or night, and the next morning, as the sun crested the buildings in the distance, he made love to me slowly and easily, with a sorrow and pleasure that melded together, intertwining so that where one ended and the other began, neither of us could have said. I clung to him as he left, fear strengthening my grasp around him. I stood watching as he drove away, and for a long while after, wishing to have him here beside me; knowing he needed to go.



The Healing



I want to express my thanks to Rozezwild for reviewing this story. I know it has taken me a very long time before posting, but I had reasons for that. This story is fictional and was written for the enjoyment of all Literotica readers. Your comments would be greatly appreciated.



This day ended like every other day. I was happy to be out of there. Over the past year, college was more of an effort than anything else. I didn't want to be there. No one seemed to want me there. Sure, I had a few friends, but I was by no means popular. It seemed like the more popular students found it easier to ridicule me for their own entertainment than have anything else to do with me. My grades were average. That is to say that I wasn't failing and I wasn't dazzling anyone with my brilliance. I didn't know where I belong or how I fit in. The worst part was it seemed like everyone else did. My other problem – girls. I knew I could never get a date with the prettier ones. The jocks had their claims to them. I found it extremely difficult to talk to any girl no matter how she looked. My mouth would dry up and I would stand there babbling like an idiot. So I headed home glad that the day was over for me. I could head to the one place where I always felt like I belonged and where I was the happiest.

I don't know how to reach him. He seems so withdrawn. He shows no interest in anything. When I ask him how his day was, or how his classes were, he simply replies "Ok" and goes to his room. He spends more time there than any young man I know of. I know this can't be healthy, but I just don't know what to do. I have tried talking to him. He smiles, says he's ok, and he's gone. It just seems that since his father passed away a part of him went as well and there is nothing I can do to bring that back. 

John and Peter were always very close. They did everything together. They went fishing, camping, went to ballgames, movies, even shopping when it came to getting gifts for me. The two were inseparable. It was the type of relationship that every father imagines having with his son. Neither they nor I had any idea of the turn of events about to transpire ...

There she is again, making dinner as always. She's going to stop what she is doing and ask me about my day. I know she means well, but I know she can't imagine what I am going through. I know it isn't easy for her either. Mom and Dad were always showing each other how much they loved each other and how much they loved me. I know she misses him terribly and I worry about her. I just don't know how to talk to her. If only Dad were here, things could go back to being what they were. If only ...

John and I had met in college. We fell in love immediately. He was so different from any of the other boys I dated. He made me laugh, he teased me, and he loved me. He made me feel like no one else did. He made me feel like I was the only thing that mattered to him. And, in fact, I was. I loved John very deeply. It seemed like this love grew with each and every passing day. We got married as soon as he graduated. I was to continue on and graduate the following year, but things did not work out that way. Instead, Peter was born that year. The new baby changed everything. John told me that he did not want me working and have someone else raise our son. Of course, had I insisted, he would have relented and I would have worked or gone back to school. I understood why John felt the way he did and I trusted him to take care of us. So I became a stay at home mom. Raising Peter was a joy and a pleasure. No matter how tired John was, or how long he worked, he always managed to find time to play with his son. He always managed to find time for me. There were times I would insist John just relax. But he would not have anything to do with that. He always found time to talk to me and tell me about his day. He listened so intently when I would tell him what was going on with Peter. He always took interest in how I was and how I felt. We had our off days and we argued. After all, we weren't perfect. But we were as close as anyone could come. Then came that day. That terrible, terrible day. 

I forgot my lunch that day so I had to go home or face an afternoon and a growling stomach. No way! I walked in the door and mom had lunch prepared. I couldn't wait for this weekend. Mom, Dad and I were going camping and we were going to have a great time. Dad had been working very hard over the past year and now it appeared that his work would finally pay off. Mom was so excited because she would finally have some time with Dad that she desperately needed. Dad was looking forward to it, too. He knew he needed to relax. He knew that this deal tried the strengths of his family and he knew that we had all survived. We couldn't think of a better way to celebrate than to do it as a family while enjoying the one thing we all loved to do. It would be a trip to remember.

John was in a meeting with some clients preparing to close this very important deal that would guarantee him a partnership. He had worked very hard and long hours from the beginning putting this deal together. He overcame every obstacle imaginable. He had managed to bring together people who would never have worked together otherwise. This was John's shining moment. Then, in one instant, it was over. He grabbed his chest, took a breath, and collapsed. 

Peter had just walked in for lunch. He was seated at the table and I was bringing him his sandwich when I saw the car pull into the driveway. I didn't recognize it. Two men got out of the car. I recognized them. One was the senior partner for John's firm and the other was John's associate. The look on their faces told me something was terribly wrong. My hands started trembling as I went to answer the door. Peter sat mesmerized. My legs felt like they were going to give out as the senior partner explained what happened.

They tried reviving John to no avail. Paramedics arrived and could do nothing. He was declared dead on arrival at the hospital. 

I didn't know what I was going to do. My whole world fell apart in that one instant. The man I loved was no longer alive. Our plans to spend our lives together and retire old and gray would never be realized. He would never see his son graduate college. I just couldn't think of all the things we talked about happening that would now never happen. I felt an emptiness I had never known before. Yet I had to continue going on – I still had Peter to think about.

I was in my room as usual. I was on the computer just browsing web sites. I wasn't looking for anything in particular. Sure, I had visited my share of porn sites, but that was not what I was doing now. Then there was a knock on my door. "Come in, Mom," I said.

She asked me to turn off the computer and look at her. It kind of bothered me but I put that aside and did as she asked.

"Peter, we have to talk," she said. I could see she was nervous as she sat on the corner of my bed. I turned my chair around and looked at her expecting some kind of speech as to how I could not go on living my life sheltered in my room.

"I know this past year hasn't been easy for you, it hasn't been easy for me, either," she began. "You used to be outgoing and I hate to see that go away. You should be dating, yet you come home and never go anywhere."

I was feeling empty. I was feeling hurt. I knew she was right, but I couldn't bring myself to face it. "You should be the one to talk," I countered. "Look at you. You work, you come home, and you watch TV. You don't go anywhere. You don't date. And you ask me what's wrong?!" The look of shock and hurt was clearly evident in my mother's eyes.

I sat there dumbfounded. Peter was right. Here I am trying to get him to open up and talk to me and what kind of example am I setting? I couldn't say anything. I got up and walked angrily out of his room. I didn't want to face him anymore today. I went to my room and burst into tears. I cried like I had never cried before and there was nothing else I could do. I must have cried myself to sleep because when I awoke, it was dark and I felt like I was hit by a truck. I got up and washed my face. I didn't bother to check on Peter as I passed his bedroom. As I went downstairs, I heard some shuffling around. When I got to the kitchen, Peter was making himself a sandwich. I looked at the time. It was 11 pm. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize the time. I fell asleep and just woke up. Would you like me to make that sandwich for you?"

"Mom," he said. "I am so sorry I lashed out at you like that. I never meant to hurt you. It's just that things have been so confusing and different since Dad's been gone." The tears welled in his eyes. He was trying to hold back. "I just miss him so much and I don't know what to do."

I looked at my son for an instant. I could feel the pain he was feeling. I could feel the emptiness and the uncertainty. 

"I miss him, too. I have been trying to figure this thing out and I can't. All I know is the man that I wanted to spend my life with and have a family with is now gone and there is nothing I can do about it. And now I feel like I am losing the only other man in my life and the thought of that is unbearable." 

I broke down and began crying. I guess it was a little too much for Peter because he broke down too. 

"Mom, I didn't know what to do. You had retreated and it was like you weren't here anymore. Sure, I saw you, and you went to work and came home, but you weren't here. You always seem like there's some other place you'd rather be."

"Peter, I'm not that hungry anymore. I would like nothing better than to sit and talk with you. Could we just do that?"

I looked at my mother for a few seconds before answering her. She was desperate. So was I. Where there once was a happy family stood two people who, because of their grief, could not talk to one another. "I don't feel too hungry anymore, either. Let's go inside and sit. I promise, I won't snap at you."

We went to the living room. My mother sat on the couch and I sat in the chair opposite her. "No, come sit with me," she said. I moved to the couch. We turned to face each other. My mother began speaking. "We are both still hurting and grieving over the loss of your father. We have handled this in our own way, but very much in the same manner. We have withdrawn not only from our daily activities but from each other. I know in my heart of hearts Dad would not want us to behave like this. He loved us too much for that. I'm afraid I didn't set a very good example for you and I am sorry. I'd like to start new if you don't mind."

"I'm just as guilty of this," I said. "You don't have to take the brunt of this yourself. I didn't know how to reach you. I withdrew into my room and my computer because it was the only place I could try and sort out my feelings. And all the while, I was not sorting anything out. I lost my focus in college, in friends, everything."

I motioned for my son to move closer to me. I wanted nothing more than to hold my baby. He moved closer and I hugged him against my breasts and held him there. "We have to help each other through this and we have not done a very good job of that." I could tell he felt a little uncomfortable but I didn't care. He tried changing his position. I just hugged him. "Honey, please don't move," I said to him. "I just need to know that you love me as much as I love you."

"Mom, you know I love you. I would love nothing better than to start new. I don't want to feel this distant from you." To my surprise, Peter shifted to hug me back. We stayed like that for what seemed like an eternity. I began crying.

"Mom, please don't cry anymore," I said. "We'll be ok." I was still hugging her. "These are tears of joy, Peter," she replied. I said nothing more. I just held her. She shifted position slightly and I could feel her breasts moving. I also noticed a slight stirring in my jeans. "Of all the times and all the people, I have to start feeling that now," I thought to myself. Fortunately, my mother was not in a position to feel anything.

It was almost as if we could not get close enough. We were both starved for comfort and an emotional outlet. Yet, we never gave each other the opportunity for it. I couldn't stop holding him. When he returned the hug, and then held me, I felt as if maybe my world didn't come to an end after all. I finally found what I was missing this past year and I didn't want to let it go. Not again. I continued holding my son. His continual shifting was annoying, but I wasn't about to say anything. It was almost as if he wanted to be here and yet, he wanted to be elsewhere. He couldn't make up his mind.

"Are you comfortable with this?" I asked him. "I'm ok". Again with his typical answer. This time, I was not going to settle for that.

"Peter, sit up and look at me," I demanded. He was a little taken aback with the tone of my voice. "Listen to me. I'm not angry or upset with you. But if we are going to move on, and if we are going to have a relationship, we cannot keep avoiding each other. I know you have things on your mind. So do I. This past year has been difficult for you. It has been difficult for me, too. But we will never get past square one if we keep running away. We have to open up to one another or we will just drift further apart. That is not something I want and I don't think you want it, either."

I could hardly believe her tone. First, she was crying and holding me like there was no tomorrow. Now this. "Mom, you're right," I replied. "I'm sorry; it's just that it is sometimes difficult to talk to you about the things I used to talk to Dad about. And now that he's gone, I feel as if I don't have anyone I can talk to. It's not that you wouldn't understand. There are things that I could talk to Dad about that he'd understand better."

"Look, I understand how close you and your Dad were. We used to have conversations, too. I also understand there are things that you feel more comfortable talking with your father about than with me. He's no longer here. I understand a lot more than you think and I am concerned for you. As I said, we have to learn to confide in one another."

I let that sink in for a few seconds. "What about you, Mom? You must have things on your mind that you would normally speak to Dad about. Just because he's no longer with us doesn't mean I wouldn't understand. I'm a freshman in college now. I may not have the experience but I do understand relationships. You don't seem to give me credit for that. You try and act as if everything is fine and it's not." 

Peter was right. There was no getting around it. "I guess I have been so consumed with my grief that I pushed everything that mattered to the side. Then I tried covering it up by pretending all was fine. Peter, I am so sorry." We hugged again and fell on the couch. As we fell, Peter tried kissing my cheek but missed. His kiss fell lightly on my lips. I also noticed that he was getting aroused. This was something new. It had been a year since I had any sex outside of self ministrations and all of a sudden this pent up urge needed release. But this was my son. How could I even think about it? It didn't seem to matter. Peter had shifted and now his body was almost completely on top of me as we lay on the couch. I could feel my nipples crushing against his chest. A familiar tingling began in my pussy. I was getting turned on. There was no question about it. And the darned thing was – so was my son.

There wasn't enough room on the couch for me to lie beside my mother, so when we went to hug each other again my weight pushed against her. I wanted to give her a kiss and I went for her cheek. In the process of lying her down without hurting either one of us, I missed and kissed her on the lips. Her breasts were firm against my chest and I no longer cared if she felt my dick get hard. I was still a virgin but it seemed like I knew exactly what I was doing. We lay there for a few more seconds. I went to kiss her again. This time, I went straight for my mother's mouth. She didn't resist. I kissed her full on the lips. We were both heading out of control. Was it our grief or a lack of attention? Or was it both? It didn't matter. We both had a need and a desire that desperately needed filling. As I kissed my mother, her lips parted. I inserted my tongue and kissed her passionately. At the same time, my left hand started moving up towards her right breast and began playing with it through her clothes. I could feel her nipple hardening as I played with and kneaded her breast. It was so full and firm. Her hands were now moving up and down my back. I noticed her breathing was becoming more ragged. I broke the kiss and continued kissing her cheek and neck. My mother never once attempted to stop me.

I could feel the fire building inside me. I was totally engrossed in this passionate kiss I was sharing with my son. He began playing with my breast and I couldn't stop him. I couldn't help myself. I wanted it just as badly as he did. I started rubbing his back. I pulled his shirt up and reached underneath to feel his skin. Peter began kissing down my neck. He started unbuttoning my blouse. My hands moved down to feel his ass. It was so firm and felt so good. He managed to get my blouse unbuttoned and he opened the front snap of my bra. He pushed the material away and my tits were now free. He continued gently kneading my breasts and occasionally letting his thumb run over my nipples. I was in heaven. I couldn't control myself and I couldn't stop him. I didn't want to stop him. Peter began sucking on my breasts. My breathing was coming in short gasps and I let out a soft moan. My pussy was starting to get wet from all this excitement. "Oh, Mom, you are so beautiful," he said in between breaths.

"Please," I replied. "If we are going to continue, call me Stephanie. It just doesn't seem right to be doing this and having you call me Mom." It was my turn to become aggressor. I removed Peter's tee shirt and started kissing him down his neck. I shifted positions so that now I was on top. I removed my blouse and bra and threw them aside. I wouldn't need them anytime soon. I continued kissing and licking until I got to his male nipples. I teased each one with my tongue and gently bit them. They immediately hardened up. My hand was also caressing what felt like a huge penis. I couldn't wait to find out. I kissed down his stomach to his belly. I undid his belt and jeans as I made my way down. I pulled his jeans and shorts down in one move. His cock stood straight up. It had to be at least 8 inches and fat. I grasped it in my hand and started rubbing up and down the shaft. I looked up at him and smiled. Then I admired the purple head that was staring at me. I licked the crown of his dick all along the top, in the slit on the crown, and underneath. My tongue then made its way down the side of the shaft and back up. I took the head in my mouth and engulfed it. I wanted to make love to his cock with my mouth.

I was going out of my mind. Mom, I mean Stephanie, was giving me a blowjob. I had never had one before and my first one would be with the woman who gave birth to me. I felt like I was in heaven. Her hand was stroking my shaft and her mouth was licking, kissing, and sucking all around the head and upper shaft. Then she removed her hand and started to work her way down the shaft. I didn't think my cock could get any harder. Her hand reached underneath and started playing with my testicles. I kept groaning. Stephanie's other hand reached up and began playing with my nipples making sure they stayed hard. She reached the bottom of my shaft and began sucking her way up. I already had pre-cum shooting out my slit and I knew I wouldn't last too much longer. Stephanie must have sensed this and began sucking harder and faster. Her hand squeezed my balls. I started moaning louder. "Oh my God! Oh my God! A-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-ah!"




The Healing



I shot buckets and buckets of cum into Stephanie's mouth. She tried keeping up with it all but some leaked out the side of her mouth. It seemed like it would never stop. Finally, when the last of it had subsided and she milked me dry, Stephanie looked up and smiled.

"You're still a virgin, aren't you?"

"How do you know?" 

"Listen, a man can usually last longer than you did. It's nothing to be ashamed of. That comes with experience and time. It's actually a good thing because now I can teach you how to please a woman and keep her satisfied. And trust me; you will last longer the next time."

I took Peter's hand and led him up to my bedroom. We began another passionate kiss as I led him to the bed. He immediately went for my breasts and his hand went inside my pants. He began to rub my wet pussy along the slit. He was being a little rough but I was enjoying it. His finger found my love hole and he inserted it. I let out a small gasp. He may not have experience, I thought, but he seemed to know what he was doing. My whole body was coming alive. He then removed my pants and panties. I raised my hips so they could come off easier. He went back to playing with my pussy. He seemed to know nothing about the clit. It was time to educate my son.

"Peter," I said half out of breath. "Fingering me down there is fine but there are other places you need to be aware of if you are going to be a sensitive and caring lover." I guided his hand over my clit. "Feel that? It's called a clitoris, or clit. It is extremely sensitive and when a woman gets excited it pops out from under its hood. It needs attention, too. If you alternate between fingering my love hole and rubbing my clit, you will not be disappointed. And neither will I. Oh, and you don't have to be so rough. Be a little more gentle."

Peter immediately took my advice and began rubbing my clit as I directed. His kisses moved down my neck to my breast where he started sucking on my nipple. Waves of pleasure coursed its way through my body as my son was starting to bring me to the edge of a much needed orgasm. He figured out that alternating between my love hole and my clit would get me off. My body started shaking and my hips were bucking trying to increase the pace of his rubbing. Peter started kissing down my belly stopping to pay attention to my navel. His kisses roamed further down to my thighs. I kept moaning in delight as he got me hotter and hotter. Then, all of a sudden, he stopped.

"Please, don't stop," I pleaded. He looked at me and smiled.

I wanted so badly to please her. Stephanie was enjoying everything I was doing to her and it was making me feel good to know that I could bring such pleasure to a woman. Now, I wanted to return a favor. I removed my fingers from her pussy and kissed my way up her thigh. 

"I figure that a woman enjoys the same things a man does," I told her. "So just sit back, relax, and enjoy." 

Stephanie spread her legs wider to allow greater access. The smell from her pussy was intoxicating. It was making my head spin and now all I wanted was to taste what she had to offer. I kissed my way up to her pussy and began licking the outer lips. Her moans of pleasure were enough to tell me that I was doing a good job. Then I licked up and down inside her slit. I stuck my tongue inside her love hole and licked in there. Stephanie's moans were growing more intense and her hips were bucking wildly. "P-p-please," she cried. "My clit. Suck on my clit."

I licked up her slit to the hood where her little joy button was protruding. I proceeded to tease it by licking it. I finally sucked on it and inserted a finger into her love hole. Stephanie went wild. "Oh my God," She cried. "I'm going to cum. Don't stop. I'm almost there. Please!" I continued sucking her clit and fingering her hole when all of a sudden she began to shudder. Her hands gripped the bed as she raised her hips one final time. I removed my fingers to hold her hips in place. Her whole body convulsed as waves and waves of orgasm overcame her. Her pussy shot out fluid and I hurried to lick it all up. I continued licking as her orgasm passed and she started settling down. 

I couldn't believe I came so hard. I was completely out of breath. Peter continued licking my pussy. "No more," I said. "I need to rest a second." Peter kissed his way back up my tummy to my breasts. He then reached my lips where we engaged in a long, passionate kiss. I could taste myself on him and I was in seventh heaven. Peter had position himself in between my legs. I could feel his cock at the entrance to my pussy. He was hard again. I reached down and guided him in. Then I grabbed his ass cheeks and pushed him deeper. It's not that he needed coaxing; he seemed to know just what he was doing. My God, he was huge. He buried all eight inches in me and I felt fuller than I had in a long time. He began slowly moving in and out, never breaking the kiss. "O-o—o-o-o-h" is all I could manage between my pussy being filled with my son's cock and my mouth filled with his tongue. I started breathing in short gasps again and had to break the kiss. Peter picked up his pace. I locked my ankles around him as if I was trying to get more of him in me. I started feeling the coming of another orgasm so I started humping faster. Peter took the hint and began pistoning in and out of me. I could feel his balls slapping my ass as he continued his pounding. "Oh my God. Please, don't stop. I'm cumming, I'm cumming. I'm cum-m-m-m-m-m-ming!" My orgasm washed over me like the tide roaring onto a beach. My pussy was clenching his cock not wanting to let go. I could tell that it wouldn't be too much longer for Peter. His breathing was ragged and he was sweating. He was pounding me for all he was worth. All of a sudden, I felt him get larger. He tried to withdraw but my ankles wouldn't allow it. He let out a loud moan as he shot his seed deep within me. Spurt after spurt found its way into my womb.

We were both spent emotionally and physically. We lay there, still coupled, until he softened enough to slip out. In between that time we both fell asleep.

It was morning the next day when I finally woke up. I lay there looking at my sleeping son. I couldn't believe what we had done. A mother doesn't sleep with her son and engage in sex with him. What kind of mother was I? I got up, took a shower, put on a robe and headed down to make breakfast. I was trying to sort things out in my mind. I didn't know how I felt. I sure as hell didn't know how Peter would feel. I think I was more afraid of that than anything else. It wouldn't be long before I found out. 

I woke up to the smell of fresh coffee and bacon frying. I felt a little bewildered thinking about what happened last night. Did my mother and I have sex? I knew the answer to that question. Of all the dumb things to do that had to rank right up there with the dumbest. Here we are barely speaking and we go and do that. The funny thing was I didn't feel shame or guilt. As a matter of fact, I felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. The more I thought about it, the more I felt closer to my mother. I don't know how to explain it. I don't know if I can. All I know is that I have not felt the love I feel right now since Dad passed away. I got up, put on some shorts and a robe and headed downstairs.

"Good morning," greeted my mom as I took a seat at the table. "Care for some coffee?" I could tell she was feeling more than a little nervous to see me. She didn't wait for an answer. She poured a cup of coffee and set it in front of me. Her hand was visibly shaking. "Mom," I asked her. "What's the matter?" She looked at me and replied nervously, "Nothing. I'm fine."

"Last night, you gave me the once over for giving you an answer like that. Shouldn't I expect the same courtesy?"

"You're right," she replied. "I think we need to talk about last night. We had a lot of things going on and a lot of emotions running amok. I don't know how it happened or why. All I know is that I have to get this sorted out somehow and we can't let that happen again." I thought about that for a minute before I replied. 

"Last night was something we both desperately needed," I said. "We were both feeling very lost and very empty. It wasn't about sex and it wasn't even about love, although love has a lot to do with it. It was about two people reaching out for one another in a moment of healing and need. Others may look at it judgmentally and say it's a sin, but who are they to judge? They can't. Not unless they have been in the same situation under the same circumstances. Let me ask you this – how did you feel last night?"

"I felt," she began. She gathered her thoughts before she continued. "I felt that there was closeness between us that hasn't been there since your father died. I felt a need that couldn't be denied. I felt that there were other forces beyond our control guiding us last night. And, yes, I felt a love I haven't felt in a year."

"Then what is wrong with what we did?" I asked. "I'm not saying it will never happen again. I love you, Mom and all I know is that we both needed to be loved last night and that power was stronger than either one of us."

I looked at my son for a few minutes. It dawned on me that this was not just my son. Before me sat a remarkable young man who had more wisdom and maturity than most 19 year olds. I began seeing him in a different light. It suddenly dawned on me how much he looked like his father. I felt like I was falling in love, albeit in a different way, all over again. "Say it again. Tell me you love me. But this time, use my name."

"I love you, Stephanie."

I couldn't resist. I went over and kissed him on the lips. "I love you, too, Peter," I said breaking the kiss. I held his face in my hands and looked him in the eyes. They said all there was to say. "I know some day you will find someone who will steal that heart of yours and you'll want to go off and marry her. When that day comes, you will have my blessings. And, if by chance, I should find someone with whom I can begin a new life, I hope I have your blessings. But in the meantime, we have each other. I love you and I am very proud of you." I leaned over and resumed the kiss I had started a minute ago. This time, my tongue probed inside for his. Peter responded with a very deep kiss. It was like he was trying to draw the breath out of me. His arms came up and wrapped around me. I took him by the arms and stood him up. We kissed our way into the living room and over to the couch. Peter broke his kiss and started nibbling on my ear and neck. Chills were running up and down my spine. His hands came up and gently caressed my breasts. His thumbs ran their way over my nipples and I could feel them getting hard beneath my robe. He made his way down to each breast taking each one in turn and sucking on it. I was in ecstasy. I felt loved and needed again. I felt alive. His hands slid up to my shoulders and removed my robe as he continued sucking on my breasts. Once again I stood naked before my son and I was proud of it. 

He laid me down on the couch and began kissing his way down to my stomach and navel. My pussy was on fire again. It was tingling with anticipation knowing what was about to happen. I gently pushed him down so he would hurry up and find his target. Peter obliged. "Someone's in a hurry," he chided as he made his way between my legs. "Don't tease," I replied. "You have me so worked up I can't stand it."

"You won't have to," replied Peter as he buried his face in my pussy. His tongue immediately began exploring every fold and flap there was to explore. I held my hands on his head urging him on as I moaned in delight. At the same time, his nose was burrowing its way under my hood to find my clit. The chills I was feeling had spread from my spine to my entire body. A burning sensation began in the pit of my stomach. I couldn't let go of Peter's head as he continued attacking my pussy. Then he removed his tongue, replaced it with his fingers, and began working his way to my clit. He found the little nub and teased it with his tongue. "O-o-o-o-o-o-h," I moaned. "That feels s-s-s-o good." I could hardly speak. Fireworks were beginning to go off as the burning in my stomach intensified. My hips were bucking in rhythm to Peter's tongue. I was completely on fire. The pressure kept building up in me and Peter could feel it. He intensified his movements. He took another finger and inserted it in my ass. I don't know where he learned that from but it was all it took. I felt my body explode in a thousand pieces. "Oh, my God, I'm cumming. I'm c-c-cumm-mming," I screamed. My pussy gushed fluid like a dam that had just burst. I was still shaking when Peter moved up on me and kissed me deeply again. This time, I rolled him over so I was on top. I removed his shorts, broke the kiss, and made my way down to his cock. I couldn't wait to get that thing in my mouth. Peter was more than anxious, too.

Stephanie was like an animal unleashed. No sooner had I finished working her over she had me on my back and was now taking my dick in her mouth. Her tongue expertly worked its way around the crown. She worked her way over the crown, in the slit, under, and down the shaft. If she wanted, she could have sucked the life out of me through my cock. Her hand was massaging my balls. The other was on my shaft until she deep throated me. She made her way all the way to the base of my cock and held there. Then she sucked her way back up. My God, this woman could suck cock. No wonder my dad never strayed. She removed her hand from my shaft and began deep-throating me again. Her other hand continued working my balls. Her free hand made her way behind me. She took a page out of my book and inserted a finger in my ass. I didn't like the feeling. I bucked away. She took the hint and removed her finger. I felt the pressure beginning to build in my balls. I wouldn't be too much longer. Stephanie must have sensed this. She stopped sucking, grabbed my cock at the base and squeezed. It wasn't too tight a squeeze, but enough to cut off the rush. "Not just yet," she said. "I have other plans for this guy."

She held me for a few more seconds until the pressure passed. Then she got on top of me and guided me into her pussy. She closed her eyes and gasped as she impaled herself on my cock. Her pussy was like a velvet glove that was made fit to order. It clutched every inch of my cock as it made its way down to the base. Stephanie began rocking back and forth. I couldn't believe how great this felt. It felt better than last night and that's saying a lot. Stephanie's gasps turned into moans of pleasure. I was moaning and grunting as I matched her rocking movements with my own. Stephanie took my hand, grabbed a finger, and placed it over her clit. "R-r-rub it, please," she gasped. I did as she asked. My other hand grabbed her breast and started squeezing it and playing with her nipple. The pace of her rocking increased along with her breathing. I could feel the pressure building again and I knew I wouldn't be long. I could tell by the way Stephanie was reacting that she was almost there, too. We both started bucking wildly. I pulled Stephanie down and we engaged in a deep, passionate kiss. I moved my hands to her ass and pushed her down as I bucked up into her. It was all we could take. Stephanie came in buckets. Her pussy juice was flowing all over my cock. She was moaning into my mouth as we continued our kiss. Her pussy grabbed my cock and held on for dear life. I felt my juice coming up my shaft. My cock exploded inside her pussy. I felt like I was cumming in buckets as I released all my man juice into her. We continued rocking although our pace had slowed down considerably. We broke our kiss. We were both out of breath as we lay together. Stephanie rested her head on my chest. I held her close as we both recovered from our bout with sex. But it wasn't just sex. It was something much more than that.

I could feel his heart beating as my head rested on his chest. I could hear him trying to catch his breath. I could feel all the love emanating from him. There was nothing to say. We were caught up in this wonderful relationship that was more than just a mother and her son. It was more than just a man and a woman. It was a healing.



The Healing Garden



It was a warm day in June. Gina walked the stone path to Sam's back yard, chilled bottle of wine in hand. She had told him she would stop by today for a few minutes, to help celebrate his first week without chemotherapy. The two worked together, but in different departments. They had become friends over many weeks of lunches in the company break room. She learned he had been winning a battle against cancer, but the treatments had been brutal. He'd been sick almost every day for six months. 

Over the months Sam had shared with Gina that his wife had moved out around the time of his diagnosis. Each Friday he endured a treatment that left him violently ill, exhausted and emotionally drained all weekend. She was amazed at his determination in keeping that pace for months, and still showing up to work each Monday. Gina had shared with Sam that her own marriage was loveless, that she was just biding her time with her husband until the kids were a little older. But talking to Sam she realized that her problems were small; at least she had her health. 

Last week Sam told Gina he had finished chemo, and taken the final treatment. She saw an unfamiliar sparkle in his eye. Sam said he could not wait to live his life again, to work in his backyard garden, to go out with friends, to feel desire for a woman and to please her. He confided in Gina that while he'd been going through the treatment he had no energy for sex, and now he was worried if his sex life would ever recover. Would his body even work the same? He said he wished he had someone to help him ease back into sex without expecting too much, to test his abilities because he was so nervous. Since he didn't know anyone willing to do that without a commitment, Sam said he would just focus on other things for a while and let the sex work itself out; he had missed so many little joys during his illness.

Sam's plans for the first weekend without treatment were to relax and spend time in his yard, something he said he had missed doing. Gina mentioned she would have a little free time between errands, so he invited her to come by and see his work. 

As she entered the back yard gate she could see that he'd been working on the garden that morning. The stone path was neatly edged, the lawn was freshly cut, and the flowerbeds had new mulch. A wheelbarrow sat near the patio, where she saw Sam stretched out on a lounge chair asleep. He was wearing cut off jean shorts, and his baseball cap was tipped over his face for shade. 

Gina contemplated placing the wine bottle on the patio table, and then sneaking away quietly so Sam could sleep. She stood looking at Sam for a long moment, admiring his shirtless chest. She had never seen him outside of his typical work khaki pants and collared shirt. Even after being sick for so long, his arms looked strong, and his stomach taut. 

Gina sat the wine bottle on the table, but instead of sneaking away she walked toward the sleeping Sam. Standing over him, she slipped her shirt off revealing her lacy pink and black bra. For a woman in her 40's she knew she was still sexy and worked hard to keep her body in shape. Despite her workday look she always dressed in frilly underthings underneath, and today was no different. She reached down to rub her full breasts, dipping a finger into the sheer fabric to graze a nipple. She licked her lips thinking about what she was going to do next.

Gina bent over Sam, lightly running her hands over his chest. Deep in sleep, his chest rose and fell with each breath but her caress didn't cause him to move. She placed her shirt on the ground as a cushion, then sat on her knees by the side of the lounger. Slowly, she massaged his thighs, gradually reaching higher until her fingers were on his upper thighs underneath the edge of his shorts.

Suddenly Sam jumped, sitting up halfway on the lounger, swearing, "What the fuck...!" His quick motion knocked Gina off balance, causing her to fall slightly backwards but still keeping one hand on his thigh. She started to wonder if this had been a mistake, but it was too late to sneak away now. She waited for him to fully wake up.....would he tell her to go?

Sam shook off the deep sleep and looked around. He sat up, with his legs on the side of the lounger straddling Gina. He realized he had fallen asleep on his patio chair, and that Gina was with him. Looking down at her, he reached out a hand to help her rebalance. Then he felt her hand on his thigh, and saw her nearly naked breasts spilling out of her lacy bra.

"Um..." he said, stammering. "Are you, I mean what? I don't know if I ...." She could see the desire in his eyes as he took in the sight of her, kneeling between his legs.

Gina reached her hand up to his mouth, and put her finger on his lips, saying "shhhhh, hush" and shaking her head as if to say no. He understood. There was no need for talk or worries. She placed her finger over her own lips, as if to hush her own words. 

Gina, sitting up on her knees between Sam's legs, kept one hand on his thigh while rubbing the other hand up to his neck and then down his back. When she reached his belt, her hand ran along it to the front of his pants. Sam leaned forward to kiss her passionately. 
His hands were alternately cupping the back of her head and then trailing along the sides of her breasts. She was breathing heavily as her hand continued to rub his cock though his jeans; she started to feel a growing bulge.

Gina kissed his neck and the side of his face, working her way over to his ear, breathing heavily and moaning softly. She kissed her way down his body as she lowered herself all the way onto her knees. A moment later she was kissing his cock through his pants. Sam could feel the warmth of her breath through the fabric and it made him throb. They were nearly shaking with anticipation. Without a word, Sam removed his belt then slowly lowered his zipper. He stood slightly to pull his shorts and boxers down, and Gina quickly pulled them off and tossed them to the side. She gasped excitedly as his cock sprang toward her hard as a rock, pointing right at her face. She admired how he was neatly trimmed, and his cock was smooth and beautiful. She instantly wrapped her hand around the base of it and stroked upward. A glistening bead of precum rewarded her effort. "Mmmmm...," she said, showing her appreciation for his amazing cock but trying to keep the silence. 

She paused there, looking up at him, her mouth opened and poised to swallow his shaft. A low moan escaped Sam as his cock throbbed in anticipation. Gina closed her eyes and lowered her mouth over his cock. She kept her mouth opened wide though, so her lips barely touched him; he could only feel her hot breath as she slowly surrounded his throbbing dick with her open mouth. When her lips finally closed on him, the sudden warm wetness sent a shudder through his whole body. More than half of his length was engulfed as he felt her mouth surround him the first time. After months of uncertainty, Sam smiled as he looked down and saw his hard, healthy cock in Gina's mouth. 

She slowly dragged her lips up his shaft until only the head was still between them. 
Gina's mouth opened again and she took him in deeper, a little faster this time but still not touching on the way down. Her mouth closed tightly as she sucked her way back up his rod. She did this a couple more times. His cock was so hard it ached, and Sam wanted so badly just to cum and release months of built-up pressure. But Gina was intent on toying with Sam a little longer and was taking her time about it.
 Once she had turned his shaft to granite with a few sensual sucks, Gina let his cock fall out of her mouth and ran her tongue all over him from tip to base pausing to softly lick his balls. She lapped them gently, teasingly. He pleaded with her with his eyes, tugging at her hair to pull her back up to his cock. She had other plans.

When her tongue found its way to the base of his ball sac, Sam thought he might lose it. Gina was a woman knew what to do with her tongue when it came to licking a man's balls. Then she pulled back, running her tongue up the underside of his cock and leaving a trail of her saliva along his swollen vein. When she reached the head, Gina took it into her mouth and plunged down on his shaft. This time her lips were wrapped tightly on it, pushing the skin of his cock back as she took most of it in. She bobbed on him, giving a good, tight-lipped sucking for a few moments before settling back on her heels smiling directly at him, panting.

Gina reached under her skirt, bunching it up around her upper thighs and revealing to Sam her lacy black panties. Moaning, she pulled aside the sheer damp crotch to expose her puffy pussy lips. Sam reached his fingers into Gina's bra to pinch her hard nipples, and watched mesmerized as Gina rubbed little circles around her clit until she came on her hand within seconds, groaning. 

"Sorry, I was just so hot from sucking you...." Gina said breathlessly, stopping mid-sentence when she remembered they were being silent. She smiled deviously, reaching back toward Sam's throbbing cock. She wanted to play a little longer.

Gina's mouth closed over his cock again and she bobbed with an unhurried rhythm on his throbbing shaft. He moaned as she moved slowly enough that he wasn't in too much danger of cumming, but fast and deep enough to keep him on the verge. She turned her head slightly from side to side as she sucked, letting her tongue caress the full underside of his cock.

A few times she paused at the bottom of the stroke to get more cock into her mouth. She was taking in about three-quarters of his length as she bobbed, but would force herself down almost to the hilt every few strokes. He could feel the head of his cock pressed against the back of her throat as she crammed the full length into her mouth. Gina went on like that, steadily sucking and occasionally impaling herself on Sam's shaft.

When she finally settled in and started sucking and bobbing in earnest, her hands were wrapped around the cheeks of his ass. Gina turned up the intensity, her deep sensual sucking going even faster. Both knew there was no holding back. As Sam felt himself approaching the point of no return, the muscles in his thighs tightened and his back arched, pushing his cock further into Gina's mouth. Gina didn't slow down or hesitate as his shaft hardened and swelled to the bursting point. Her lips continued their velvety-smooth caressing of his member even as his balls tightened and then released. Sam groaned and shuddered as the first massive gob of cum surged from his cock into her mouth. Gina dutifully kept sucking, drawing two more spurts of cum. 

She gently sucked a little longer, her touch smooth and unhurried. 

Sam let out a huge sigh of relief, and smiled as his hand caressed Gina's head. She looked up at him, wiping a drip of cum from her lips and giggling, "mmmmm," she said.

"What I was trying to say before," Sam said, "was that I didn't know if I could even get it up because I jacked off in the shower a few hours ago. I haven't done that in so long, I just didn't think I could go again. But wow....just...thank you."

Gina stood up, adjusting her bra and skirt, and pulled her shirt back on. She smiled and kissed Sam on the cheek, then walked away knowing he had regained not only his health but also his sexual confidence. "It's a pleasure to help a friend in need," she said as she closed the garden gate behind her.



The Healing of Adam Cross Pt. 01



Author's Note: This story is an original work of fiction, the first of a series of stories expected to include several parts. Future additional spin-off stories starring some or all of these characters might also be forthcoming based upon response and demand. Certain characters featured herein may also be found in other works by the authors. Feedback is desired and greatly appreciated. Email comments to the address in our profile. Thank you for reading. 

Copyright 2011 by Jack and Josephine Cutter.

This story stars: Adam Cross, and features Tiffany McCullough, Holli Coverton, Trent McCullough, Dave Cartwright, Benjamin Lane, Kara Simms, and Mandy Michaels.

This story contains: male-female erotic coupling, fellatio, cunnilingus, anal, analingus, group sex, strippers, lap dances, two-girl lesbian shows, and sadness, and touches upon some of the larger elements at play in the forthcoming parts of the series, which is not centered around strippers.

This story begins post-prologue on Wednesday, September 28.

* * * * *

It happened on a random Tuesday in February, an ordinary day that become something more in the worst imaginable way. He was working late when he got the call, sitting at his desk in the newsroom, punching away at his keyboard. Looking back, he could not recall what it was he'd been working on, a strange truth for a man with a near-photographic memory.

In fact, he could remember very little at all with clarity; he remembered setting the phone down, rising to his feet, and taking three steps before things get fuzzy. His co-workers have said they remember watching him move, then sway on his feet and crumple to the floor. One of them, thinking he was hurt, called an ambulance.

That was eight months ago.

Chapter One: Reluctant Participant 

Tiffany McCullough squealed as her husband pounded her from behind.

The brunette beauty of twenty-eight years was bent over the bathroom counter, her weight supported by her elbows, her supple breasts so close to the marble counter that every so often the shriveled tips of her nipples would graze across the cold surface, strummed by the grout.

They had been fucking for almost half-an-hour at this point and perspiration covered her naked flesh, glistening in the dim light of the room. Trent was really laying into her, so much that when his hips banged against the soft cheeks of her ass, it almost hurt.

Almost, but not quite.

Her husband was an excellent lover and Tiffany was no slouch herself, and already she was two orgasms deep. She did not think she would make a third, which was perfectly fine because it was time for Trent to finally have his. She could tell it was coming when he spanked her ass with a heavy hand and groaned loudly.

Trent pulled out just in time to spew a load of his sticky white sauce all over the small of her back. It was a large load: Tiffany could tell by the way the deposit slid down her skin into the crack of her ass.

"Nice, baby," she cooed as she wiggled her butt.

Trent sighed. "Better clean up before that stuff goes any lower."

She giggled. "I don't mind your cum on my ass. It feels nice and sticky."

"Slut," her husband said with a filthy grin.

"You better believe it," she agreed, "and don't you forget it this weekend."

This little dalliance would be their last for several days: Trent was headed to Vegas for the bachelor party of Benjamin Lane, who was engaged to one of Tiffany's best and oldest friends, Heather James. Tiffany knew the kind of roving eye her husband had; when single, he was a womanizer of the highest order. He had fulfilled his promise to her, however, and remained faithful over the eighteen months of their marriage; there was no need to stray, after all, as Tiffany was hot and had an enormous sex drive.

Simply stated, Tiffany loved to fuck . . . and her husband was always more than happy to oblige.

When Trent did not respond, Tiffany added, "I think it's great that you guys are taking Adam with you. He really needs to get away. He hasn't really been himself lately."

Trent waved a dismissive hand. He was not the kindest nor most compassionate man in the world, nor very emotionally invested in anything, which were significant flaws Tiffany struggled against on a regular basis. "He just needs to fuck someone," the man replied. "He'll be fine."

That response did not make her happy. "It's been less than a year, Trent. We're all still hurting; not an hour goes by that I don't think of Jocelyn. You don't have to be such a prick about it."

Trent shrugged. "What did I do?"

Tiffany shot him a dirty look as she hopped in the shower to clean herself up. The soothing spray calmed her considerably, pulling her back from the edge of tears that threatened suddenly to flow. The painful grief, so heavy at first, had subsided by degrees, but still lay close enough to the surface to surprise her when she least expected it. She fought it off this time, which allowed her to reflect back to happier times.

There had been five of them: five girls growing up on a block full of boys in an affluent suburb of San Diego. Despite four years age difference between Tiffany, who at nine years old had been the oldest and the de facto leader of the group, and Josie Haynes, the youngest at five, the girls forged a friendship so strong it would last for almost twenty years. Not all of the girls went to the same elementary school, nor did all of them go to the same high school, nor the same college, yet all the girls remained very close, the bonds of their friendship extremely tight, and all had ended up eventually in the same place: the city of Los Angeles.

Kelsey had been the first to marry, taking the last name Cartwright two years earlier at age twenty-six, and as the five of them had envisioned and talked about many times over the course of their lives, the wedding ceremony had involved four maids of honor. Tiffany married next, bringing with her down the aisle three maids and one matron of honor.

And now Heather was engaged, but no longer would four others stand beside her at the altar.

Jocelyn had been diagnosed with a rare brain disease twelve months earlier. The night she broke the news to the rest of them was a night Tiffany would never forget, no matter how much she wanted to or how hard she tried: more tears and pain and heartache than any other point in her life. The disease, she told them, was swift-spreading and inoperable, and untreatable, and the doctors had given her six weeks to live. Tiffany remembered the way her heart shriveled when she heard the words.

But Jocelyn was a fighter and determined to live as long as possible, determined to squeeze every drop of life out her remaining time, and with her boyfriend, Adam, by her side she survived four long months before the disease got the best of her and she passed, at last, in her sleep.

Grief still lingered. Tiffany doubted she would ever fully heal from the loss of her friend, but one of the many wonderful things about their little group was the support system it provided, trusted people who cared enough to pick each other up when needed, to lend ears to listen and shoulders to cry on, and so Tiffany, Kelsey, Heather, and Josie comforted one another and supported one another by turns: when one faltered, the others were there to pull her through.

And so they passed together through the worst of it, those first few months of pain, to come to the place they were in now: not healed, still saddened, but accepting and ready to move forward.

The same could not be said for Adam Cross.

Though he did not outwardly show his grief over the death of his girlfriend, Tiffany knew for a fact his hurt was extreme, and the fact that he internalized it so dramatically was not a good thing. He needed to cry, something Tiffany knew he had not done. He needed to move forward, to live his life, which is what she knew Jocelyn would have wanted.

He needed to heal.

Which is why she was happy Trent and the boys were taking Adam with them to Ben's bachelor party, if only so he could take his mind away from the grief and the memories. He was a good man and he needed to get away.

And hopefully have an amazingly fun time.

* * *

Adam Cross knew exactly what to expect and, from the very beginning, the men he traveled with did not fail him, living down to all his expectations. Sadly, that was not a compliment.

Former frat guys and Las Vegas bachelor parties did not a quiet and peaceful weekend make: they were off the plane and into the bar, followed by another, followed by another, followed by another, and by the time the third night rolled around, and three nights in Vegas is a long time, he was wondering why exactly he agreed to go in the first place.

It was a simple answer, of course, despite his ruminations: Jocelyn's friends had begged him to. They flittered over him incessantly; it was like he'd inherited a group of mothering hens. He did not mind them doing so, in all honesty, as he fully understood why.

His understanding did not help his situation at present, however, surrounded by attractive, wealthy, relatively young and successful guys who did little to dispel such notions, which made matters worse as far as Adam was concerned: women flocked to them in droves, which was not something he particularly wished for.

He was determined not to be the guy who buzz-killed the event, however; he was a sociable guy and acted as such, and never let on that he was anything less than excited to be there. But he did not go out of his way to talk to any of the girls thrown his way, nor did he get wasted, nor did he amuse himself at either of the strip clubs they visited (the other guys were big fans, it seemed). He appeared to be enjoying himself, when really he was not.

Which is why Adam was very happy to hear the group was heading back to the hotel suite early on Saturday night, which was their last . . . until he came to understand that heading back did not mean turning in.

"We've arranged for a little in-suite entertainment," said Dave Cartwright, one of the lead organizers of the event. Dave was thirty-one and successful, and had money burning a hole through his pocket. He and Trent McCullough, thirty years old and also quite well-off, had paid for most of the weekend.

Ben Lane grinned. "Sweet!" he exclaimed.

The three men were walking through the casino on their way up to the suite. Adam was a short distance behind them, walking slowly, quite unenthusiastic. The other six guys in their group had groused about not getting to come to the limited-invite hotel room party, but Dave had sent them off to another strip club with several hundred dollar bills, which seemed to cut short all the grumbling. Adam, however, had been "lucky" enough to get to join.

Trent wrapped a brotherly arm around Ben's shoulder as they walked. "Benjamin, my friend, have you ever fucked a Vegas stripper?"

Ben was a rather sheltered individual and his eyes widened like saucers at the statement, as if the very idea that such a thing was possible had never occurred to him.

Dave chuckled and slapped him on the back. "It's a rite of passage, my friend. Every bachelor fucks a stripper in Vegas. Why do you think so many bachelor parties come here?"

"Luckily you're with us," Trent told him, "which means you get the youngest, hottest, dirtiest strippers in this town . . . and you get them delivered right to your hotel room."

Ben could hardly contain himself, he seemed so excited. "Awesome! It's like my last night of fun before I get married," he said.

Trent and Dave exchanged a glance.

"Are you kidding?" Trent asked. "You can fuck anyone you want, anywhere, anytime. Marriage doesn't stop that, it just means you have to think a little bit ahead of time. If anything, fucking other women when you're married is better than fucking other women when you're single. The risk makes it hotter."

Adam could not believe what he was hearing. He'd always thought Trent and Dave were arrogant, and that they went overboard flirting with women and throwing money around at strip clubs, but he never thought they would go so far as to cheat on their wives, nor consider it so casual a thing.

Dave turned back and flashed a grin. "Are you ready for a little action, Adam? There just might be some pussy with your name on it upstairs."

Adam inclined his head but did not give any sort of response, affirmative nor negative, and then they arrived at the door to the suite, which was now being guarded by two large and very intimidating black men.

"Which one of you cats is Dave?" the big man on the right asked in a deep and booming voice.

Dave grinned. "Right here."

"The women are ready for you inside. What the women do or do not do is of their own free will. We have received payment for their services as exotic dancers. We will remain at this door throughout the night. We also have a representative inside the room; you do NOT want him to come calling for us."

Dave saluted the man. "Yes, sir!"

The bouncer rolled his eyes and let the group pass into the room, where much of the furniture had been cleared out of the center and four plush chairs were arranged in a semi-circle around the large open space. There was another man standing in the open area, a skinny white guy with a beard and wire-frame glasses, quite obviously the financial member of the group. There were no women present and the guys noticed.

"Where the bitches at?" Trent lamented. "I want some titties!"

"Gentlemen," the skinny man said, "I am Edward. I will be the interior representative for the ladies tonight. The ladies are preparing themselves in the other room and will be ready in a moment. Please take your seats. Bachelor, please sit here." He indicated one of the middle chairs. "You are not to leave your seats while the show is in progress. The dancers may touch you. You may not touch the dancers."

Adam took the far left chair with Dave on his right, Ben to the right of Dave, and Trent next to him on the other end. He was not really looking forward to whole thing, but was also not going to spoil it for the rest of the guys. And, he reasoned, if things got too out-of-hand, he could always leave.

"Start the show, Eddie!" Dave called.

The skinny man smiled as would a teacher at a petulant child. "Gentlemen, your first performer is nineteen years old. Her name is Mandy. Enjoy."

He flipped the button on the stereo and the music started, a bass-heavy hip-hop song without words. Seconds later, the door to one of the bedrooms opened and the first of their three entertainers was revealed, and Adam could certainly not fault his group for a lack of quality: the girl was ridiculously hot.

She was short, hardly five feet tall if it weren't for the three-inch platform boots she wore, and stacked: huge tits, amazing curves, a Barbie doll incarnate. Bright blonde hair cascaded off her head in big, rolling waves and her eyes were piercingly blue. She was dressed as a little schoolgirl with those big white knee-high boots, an ultra-short plaid mini-skirt that covered maybe half of her wonderfully curved backside, and a sheer white blouse.

The outfit was scandalous.

She sauntered out into the center of the room, quickly appraising the situation, and as she surveyed the guys, so did the guys survey her . . . with great approval.

"Holy shit," Ben whispered far louder than he intended.

"That's what I'm talking about, boys!" Trent exclaimed as he leaned over to slap five with Dave. "Look at that tight little body. What a fucking slut!"

Grinning, the girl pointed right at Ben, the bachelor, and headed straight for him. She bent herself at the waist when she reached him, legs locked behind her with her body a perfect ninety-degree angle, brought her lips right up to his face, and kissed his cheek. Adam had a nice view of her thong-covered posterior as she did so and tried hard not to stare.

She spun on her heels and sauntered back to the center of the open space, swishing her hips in that sassy schoolgirl way, before she spun again and aimed for Trent. The same little act followed: point, sexy walk, bend at the waist, kiss the cheek, turn, walk, spin, and repeat. Her blouse hugged her firm breasts, crossing them just above where her nipples likely were to provide maximum cleavage pre-exposure, and every time she walked those ample mounds jiggled enticingly. And every time she bent at the waist, her skirt would rise up and expose the cheeks of her finely rounded ass to those behind her.

Dave, Trent, and Ben were hooting and hollering and slapping fives, and occasionally one of them would throw his hand up for Adam to slap, which Adam would with a friendly smile. But he remained quite obviously aloof from the frenzy of his friends, which the girl picked up on, it seemed, because the majority of the rest of her show was directed towards the others.

Mandy swayed those hips and sucked on her fingers like they were lollipops and she was an innocent little girl, but the lusty spark in her eyes and the suggestive winks she gave the men were anything but innocent. Nor were the comments and antics of the men; once she swayed close to Dave, who reached out playful hand to grab for her, which she swatted away with equal play, her face shocked and demure.

The first song was the tease, it seemed, because with the next song the girl began to involve her body more. Her hands cupped her large breasts, squeezing and massaging them seductively; Adam was amazed they didn't just pop out of her top. She ran her hands down her body and back up again, dragging her skirt with her in the process to reveal her g-string clad lower half, and the guys all grunted appreciatively as one hand slid down to cup the spot between her legs.

Half-way through the second song, the clothes began to come off. First went the blouse, slowly and teasingly, to reveal an unbelievably tight bra to match the thong. Next came the skirt, with flourish: she turned her back to them and bent fully in half, grabbing her ankles at first before reaching back up to tug the plaid down to the floor.

"Holy shit," Ben whispered again as she did so, again louder than he anticipated.

The bra followed, revealing the girl's fantastic breasts to the awed crowd. She covered them with her palms and pinched them with her fingers, and her eyes fluttered shut as if the sensations created were the most intense she had ever felt.

Only the thong remained at the start of the third song, which was quite obviously how she planned it. It was perhaps one of the skimpiest little pieces of floss Adam had ever seen, and as the third song started she dropped to her knees before the bachelor himself and arched her back, thrusting her groin at the shell-shocked groom-to-be.

Dave and Trent went wild.

"Look at that bitch!" Dave cried.

"Look at those fucking tits, man!" Trent yelled.

Adam sat back, content to remain silent and appreciate the beauty of a woman who quite obviously was enjoying the effect she was having.

Which was even more evident a few moments later, when Mandy ripped the thong off her body with another dramatic flourish to reveal her pretty little pink pussy, bare as the day she was born. As the men again went crazy, she dragged a finger along the glistening slit and leaned forward to Ben, offering him a taste of her juices.

Ben opened his mouth with wide eyes and moved forward intently, eager to taste what was so generously offered, but just before he reached her finger she pulled it back with a giggle and slipped it into her own mouth instead. Mandy smiled coyly and wagged her finger from side-to-side: no-no. The coy smile then morphed into a sassy little grin as two fingers rubbed together in the classic "show me the money" gesture.




The Healing of Adam Cross Pt. 01



Dave and Trent pulled out wads of dollar bills and held them up, but the song ended and Mandy said, in the sweetest voice possible to imagine, "Sorry, boys, time's up." And with that, she scurried from the room, her tight little ass shaking as she went.

The voice of Edward intruded. "And now gentlemen, here is the veteran of our group, beautiful Holli!" He flipped the switch of the stereo again and a softer, quieter rhythm and blues sound emerged from the speakers.

For the second time a woman emerged from the door and this one, in particular, caught Adam's attention from the start and did not let go. She was incredibly beautiful, a tall drink of water with flowing chestnut hair that fell in rivers across her shoulders and a gorgeous face highlighted by incredible blue eyes. She was stunning, Adam thought, and this was before he'd seen even an inch of her body; the woman was wearing an ankle-length trench coat.

She stopped in the center of the room and did not speak, just stood them staring at them, smiling that same sweet little smile. She was waiting for something, Adam could tell, he just did not know what she was waiting for. After a long moment, she asked, very quietly, very sensually, "Well, is one of you gentlemen going to ask me to dance?"

Trent, of course, was the first to chime in. "Fuck yea, baby! Dance your ass off!"

"Get naked," Dave added, quite unnecessarily, and Ben followed with, "Show us those tits!"

Adam, however, knew that was not what she was looking for, and so he broke his silence to say, softly, "Would you like to dance, Holli?"

Those sensational blue eyes flashed wickedly as they turned to appraise him. "Love to," Holli said after a moment in a very girlish voice, and her slender fingers whipped off the coat, and Adam felt his breath catch in his throat at the sight of what remained.

Skimpy lingerie covered Holli's sumptuous body. The tiny lace bra she wore strained nearly to the breaking point against the burdensome task of containing the woman's ample breasts, and the light, thin material's transparency did little to hide what lay beneath; her diminutive but hardened nipples were plainly visible.

Her lower half was swathed in a lacey black mini-skirt as sheer (if not more so) than the cloth of the bra, and shimmered in the soft light of the room. The wispy garment clung to her upper thighs like a baby clinging to its mother's breast and did nothing to block what lay beneath. Her feet were clad in black high heel pumps, which only served to accentuate her lusciously long legs.

But what drew Adam's eye above all others, which was no small feat considering the abundance of beautiful imagery available to view, was what lay between those fabulous legs: a brilliant red thong commanded attention from its place beneath the flimsy mini-skirt. Made of what had to be silk or satin and embroidered with the word NASTY on the front in erratic bold letters, the borders of the garment were so narrowly set Adam wondered how it managed to cover anything at all.

Holli smiled at all of the men in turn, but her eyes were on Adam as she cooed, staring at the bulge in his pants, "Oh, I'm sorry, is my outfit making you uncomfortable?"

Adam was enjoying this show more than he could have ever anticipated; the girl was a definite entertainer. But before he could answer, Ben cried out, "Fuck yeah! It gave me a fucking boner!"

Holli turned to him with an arched eyebrow, again very appraisingly, before she smiled and said, "The bachelor, right?" It did not sound like a question and she did not wait for a response. "Would you mind if I made myself more comfortable?"

If she was asking a question that time, it did not matter: again she did not wait for a response. Her eyes fluttered shut and her head turned to the side as she placed both her hands flat against her navel and began slowly twirling her hips in slow, sensual circles. Her body swayed to the rhythm rolling out of the stereo speakers, her knees bent slightly.

Holli's hands slid up then, her eyes still closed as her palms cupped and squeezed her luscious breasts, their firm yet yielding flesh giving way as it rolled beneath her practiced touch. Adam squirmed in his seat; his pants had grown unbearably tight. While the other girl, attractive as she was, had been nice and entertaining, this woman was definitely stirring him in the right kinds of places.

The brunette beauty's eyelids opened languidly to reveal again the deep sky-blue pools behind them, and she presented them with a beguilingly amorous smile. "Do you like this?" she whispered.

Three men nodded dumbly. Adam only stared.

Holli's hands slid around to her hips and hung there as she continued to lazily gyrate her voluptuous body, her limbs swaying and bending like a ribbon in the wind. She swiveled on her heels, offering up a view of her firm and flawless posterior. She wiggled her shapely ass before completing the three hundred and sixty degree spin to face them once again.

"Want to see more, boys?" she asked as she swayed back and forth.

"Yes," Adam whispered, shocked that it was he who responded so quickly.

Holli grinned lasciviously. "Good," she said. Imbued with a sensual ease and eroticism reserved for only the most confident of people, Holli stood before them as her hips pin-balled to the beat.

Her slender fingers left her hips and slid sensuously up her body, grazing over her stomach and breasts and neck until they interlaced behind her head. This particular view of a woman, with her figure stretched out and totally displayed without blockage of any kind, was a favorite of Adam's. He squirmed in his chair.

Holli grinned at him and him alone then; she missed nothing. Spurred on by his obvious discomfort (aka approval), she bucked and churned her hips again, much quicker this time. Her breasts bounced within the tight confines of the overworked bra, and she trailed both hands down and roughly jiggled them with her fingertips.

Suddenly Holli moved her curvaceous body closer to the ring of chairs, her body still moving. Her hands darted down and hiked to sheer mini-skirt up to her waist before letting it fall back down just as quickly.

"Do you like to look at my body, boys?" Her voice oozed sexuality. "So many men look at my body and wonder about it when I dance on stage. Is my body nice?"

It was Trent who answered this time. "Oh yeah, baby," he moaned, his eyes fixated on her wagging ass.

Holli rose and turned to face them. Her expression looked almost shy, but Adam knew better; the sassy little strumpet was very good and quite obviously had perfected her act. "What about my breasts? Do you like my breasts?"

Trent again responded first, more animated this time. "Fuck yeah!"

Holli smiled and glanced over at Adam as her fingers deftly unclasped the front-side hook of the lacey black bra; he could practically hear the garment breathe a sigh of relief as its weighty burden was lifted. Holli tugged the bra cups outward, peeling them back to reveal her magnificent mounds. She discarded the bra and moaned as she fondled her naked breasts with both hands. As her fingers massaged her flesh, her hips began to rotate again in sharp, sensual circles. She pivoted her feet as her hips twirled, and each motion spun her a half-degree further around to grant each man a view from every angle. She groaned as she blatantly pinched her hardened pink nipples as her hands pawed at her chest.

Suddenly she stopped. "I know what guys like," she giggled as she brought a finger to her mouth like a little girl asking her mommy for candy. Her body continued to sway to the music, that same wordless, insistent rhythmic beat. "You boys look like you want women who talk dirty."

Adam's breath caught in his throat. He was amazed by the reaction he was having to the woman; he certainly had not expected something like this. He was very, very hard.

Holli giggled and flipped her chestnut hair back over her shoulder. She swiveled on her heels again and bent over slightly, that luscious heart-shaped bottom pushed out. She flaunted it, undulating it lewdly, wiggling it with unabashed nastiness. She glanced back over her shoulder, flipping the brown locks to the side again as she eyed each boy in turn, and she smiled. It was clear she was enjoying her suggestive dance.

"Do you like my ass, boys?" she inquired suddenly, her hips rotating in a wickedly erotic display. And then, suddenly and without warning, the woman moved to the front of Adam's chair, her back to him, and sat down hard on his lap, catching him off-guard as her ass ground into his pelvis. He grunted, but had no idea what else to do or say.

"Do you like it?" she asked, and this time the question was directed at Adam.

He was about to respond when she began to move; slowly at first, then faster. It was a bouncing motion, up and down and up and down on his crotch, back arched and slightly bent. It was a glorious view of the curve of her spine and the smooth round orbs of her rump, and he doubted highly he would ever forget it.

"Want to fuck me, boys?" Holli asked, and he wondered if she was serious. "Fuck me hard? I bet you would."

Her ample breasts flopped and bounced about, and it was all Adam could do not to reach out and latch onto them. "Do you like my ass on you?" she teased. "I bet you just love a nice, tight ass. Do you think my ass is tight enough for you, honey?"

This was certainly not what Adam would consider to be a familiar situation.

Holli withdrew her supple ass from his crotch and turned back around to face him, her hips still swaying from side to side. Swiftly she unsnapped the lone button attaching her mini-skirt to her body, and the flimsy cloth drifted to the floor. The expensive black lingerie was gone; only the red thong panties remained. Soon, Adam thought with some surprise, for the thought had just then struck him, she would be totally naked.

But Holli was determined to tease them nearly to death.

"Mmmmm," she whimpered as she moved in front of Ben, and dropped to her knees before his outstretched legs. She smiled demurely up at him, her dazzling eyes locked on his. She lowered her head and nuzzled her cheek and nose against his inner thigh, and not once did she drop her gaze from his face.

Then she planted her hands on his thighs and pushed herself up, spinning around as she did so to face away from him. Then to their awestruck delight, in a display of pure athleticism (and one no doubt practiced often as a stripper) she hooked her thumbs into the side straps of her thong and, knees locked completely, languorously slid the panties down her legs all the way to her feet. She held her position when she finished, seemingly bent in half in the open air, and Adam marveled at the beauty of both her succulently long legs and the pristine folds of her saturated pink pussy.

Holli was now completely nude. She rose and stepped delicately out of the trappings of her thong and turned to face the group yet again. Adam's eyes roamed over her lissome body as she spread her legs wider and bent forward towards Ben in yet another amazing display of controlled flexibility, her back arched and her body forming a nearly perfect right angle. Her hands cupped the sides of Ben's head; the contact allowed her to rock forward onto the balls of her feet and bring her face within scant inches of his.

"Do you like this game?" the sultry beauty purred, a hint of amusement in her voice.

And Adam realized quite instantly that he did. Which, of course, was her point, for them to realize they liked what they saw just in time for the extraordinarily long song to come a close. This was the tease portion of the program, the girls coming out to get naked but not yet frisky.

Holli rose to a standing position, her beautiful and statuesque form on full display. She smiled sweetly for the last time, swiveled on her heels and walked her sweet little ass back out of the room.

And again the voice of Edward echoed into the silence. "Last on the menu, gentlemen, is our darling sweet Kara. She's only eighteen and very new to the business, so show her some respect."

With the arrival of the third and final girl to the center of their little stage, Adam instantly remembered why he was not the biggest fan of the exotic dance industry. While a professional like Holli was a rare exception to the norm, the darling sweet Kara made him feel dirty in all the wrong ways. She was hot, yes, ultra-hot with big tits, a great body, and a beautiful face, and she was young and fresh and wholesome looking, which was the problem.

She was too young and fresh and wholesome looking, and her outfit went to greats lengths to accentuate that fact: her long blonde hair was done-up in a pair of pigtails, she was adorned in a light yellow sundress that one might find a young girl at Sunday church wearing, and she carried a little red lollipop to finish the ensemble. She was eighteen years old, which was young itself, but she worked hard to make herself seem even younger.

Adam, therefore, felt dirty just looking at her. The other guys, of course, ate the outfit up. They hooted and hollered and groaned as she entered, smiling at them with feigned shy innocence but with eyes that spoke of no such thing, and only got louder as more of the girl's clothes came off.

It was obvious the young girl was enthusiastic about her performance; she really got into the dance and worked as hard as she could to keep the men interested. Particular attention was paid to her breasts: she cupped them and squeezed them, and rolled the nipples in her fingers or lifted them to her mouth to flick her tongue across the crests.

Darling sweet Kara bumped and grinded her body to more of the hip-hop music, enjoying the effect she was having upon the men. By the time her naked body was writhing upon the ground, ass in the air as their hungry gazes worked overtime to etch the sight into memory, Trent, Dave, and Ben were quite obviously near the breaking point. All three were on their feet, towering over the girl, and practically rabid.

Adam could not be sure, but he thought it was possible that Edward cut the third song short to quiet the scene down, because Kara's dancing had seemed much shorter than that of the other two. Not that Adam minded; he still felt dirty even looking at the girl, though he was quite obviously the only one who felt that way.

And so the third girl left the room with her naked ass swishing from side-to-side, which meant it was time again for Edward to move to the center of the stage. "The ladies will break for five minutes now and then return for lap dances and the special show."

Which meant it was cocktail time, it seemed, as Trent jumped up and went right to the bar. Moments later each of the men was holding some sort of vodka-based concoction, which Adam sipped from sparingly. The other three chugged theirs and were on the way quick to number two. By the time Edward took the floor again, Adam was not even half-done with his first and Trent, Dave, and Ben were three deep.

"Lap dances, my friends," Edward told them, "are a privilege. You seem like respectable guys so I'm sure there won't be a problem, but the girls have complete control. They may touch you; you may not touch them . . . unless, of course, they ask you to." He grinned lecherously. "Do not fuck up. Do not make me call the fellows out front."

And with that, he flipped the switch on the stereo and the show began again.

Adam was not entirely sure what to expect from the next round of entertainment, but he found out very quickly what was going to happen. Mandy and Kara sauntered out first, their bodies covered only in thong panties, their hands covering their generous breasts. Holli followed them, her body garbed in a long white robe that concealed everything.

Kara went right for the bachelor, hopped into his lap, dropped her hands and shoved his face deep into the valley of her cleavage. Mandy stood back, eyeing Trent and Dave before the former held up a hundred dollar bill, which settled the matter as she went right for the cash. Which left Holli, who seemed very interested in dancing for Adam.

She moved in front of him, smiling that same sensuous smile he remembered from before. "I'd like to dance for you, honey. Would you mind?"

Adam was stunned as this did not seem to be the normal way things were conducted with strippers, but then again, Holli did not seem to be the normal kind of stripper. "I would like that," he said, surprising himself again, and her smile brightened.

The robe slipped down off her shoulders to reveal that beautiful body once again. The red thong panties were back on, as was a matching red lace bra. She began to move slowly, sensually to the soft rhythm of the music. Viewing her up close as she was no more than two feet from him, he could see how absolutely flawless her skin was, perfectly tanned and smooth.

She inched closer, moving between his legs so the sides of his knees brushed against her long and luscious legs. Adam stared into her eyes, those brilliant blue pools that sparkled mischievously, and did not break away his gaze. She winked at him and grinned, and he could not help but smile back.

Then she tugged at the straps of her bra, slipping them down off her shoulders, and Adam felt himself start to grow very uncomfortable in the front of his pants. While one hand held her bra in place, the other slid around behind to unclasp it, and moments later those heavenly breasts were exposed once more, this time mere inches from his face.

They were large, tear-drop shaped globes of golden brown perfection, standing firm and proud without an ounce of sag, and topped with a quarter-sized nipple, pink and shriveled and distended. They swayed enticingly as she moved in time with the music, which was one of the most arousing sights in the world in Adam's estimation: the gentle and natural way breasts swayed as a woman moved.

And then she began to touch them herself, squeezing them together, pinching the tips, shaking them roughly and gently by turns, and taunting him with their splendor.

Adam was now very hard and shifted in his chair, which she noticed instantly and grinned. "Ok, sweetie?" she cooed, knowing full well the source of his discomfort.

She sought to add to it; she whirled around and bent over, and Adam realized how scarcely covered her privates were by the thin material of the thong. She whimpered softly as she wrapped her fingers around her ankles, one leg crossed slightly in front of the other as her cheek came to rest against her shins. It was unbelievably athletic and unbelievably erotic. It was one of the most incredible sights Adam had ever witnessed.

And then it got better.

Holli straightened just enough to slip her fingers under the elastic waist of her panties and tugged downward, peeling the thin strip out of the crack of her ass and further until the whole of her gorgeous pink pussy was revealed.

Adam glanced to the others to see if they, too, were watching the incredible display before him, but Ben was too busy with Kara's ass and Trent and Dave were both occupied by the tits of Mandy, which left the best of the bunch for Adam alone.

 And then it got physical.

Holli rose and spun around again, still smiling beguilingly, and placed her hands gently on his shoulders. Those magnificent breasts were now no more than an inch from Adam's face, and jutting forward obscenely as Holli squeezed them with her elbows. Her knees were pressed firmly against his inner thighs; there was very little space between them now. She straightened again and ran her hands through her chestnut hair, and kept them moving down the sides of her body.

Adam was a man who loved eye contact when romancing women, but it was proving very difficult for him to maintain his eye contact with Holli. Everything she did was designed to entice him to look at her most intimate places, and the idea was growing on him. He caught himself staring at the little landing strip set above the thin lips of her nether regions and had to close his eyes, but when he reopened them she had completely turned the tables on him: her ass was in his face.




The Healing of Adam Cross Pt. 01



She had flipped around and bent over again, and backed her beautiful and very naked ass up so that it was eye-level and inches from his face. The glistening folds of her pussy practically winked at him, as did the little pink wrinkled hole just above them. The whole package wiggled back and forth and Adam followed the view as if he were hypnotized.

And then Holli went even further and Adam nearly blew his whole load.

She reached back with one hand and grabbed her left ass cheek, and pulled it wide. The pink lips parted and the tiny puckered anus opened ever-so-slightly, and Adam watched one little drop of juice trickle out of her pussy.

And then she sat down in his lap.

The dancing continued for several minutes of heaven, during which Kara and Mandy swapped men several times between them but Holli remained exclusively with Adam. Not that the other guys minded; it was clear Holli was a stripper for a certain type of man, while Mandy and Kara were best left to the Ben, Trent, and Dave types. There was ass-grinding and ass-bouncing and lewd body displays and cleavage-diving and myriad other lap dance techniques employed by Holli, and yet all of them seemed more sensual and playful than anything else, which only proved her talents. The fact that Adam was able to enjoy himself and get away from the world was amazing; the fact that it was done with a stripper -- an entertainment form that, he had to admit, had never really floated his boat -- was even more amazing.

And then the music ended

"Thanks, sweetie," Holli whispered in his ear, and the way she said it led Adam to believe, truly, that it was more than just the typical finishing line. "You've been wonderful."

Edward, forgotten for several minutes, spoke again as the women went back into the bedroom. "Five minutes, ladies," he said. "Gentlemen, a few minutes break, if you please."

Which meant more cocktails and lots of comments about "how hot the bitches are" are other such things. Adam did not really pay attention until Dave said, "The bitch seems to dig you, man."

Trent added, "Yeah, she wants your dick. I bet you could fuck her without even paying for it!"

Adam shrugged and did not say anything, more from not wanting to involve himself in such a conversation than out of any lack of response, but was saved from further discussion when Edward hit the music again to announce the return Kara and Mandy.   

This time it was Kara dressed in a little Catholic schoolgirl outfit with a white blouse tied-off to show stomach, short plaid skirt, knee-high white stockings, etcetera, and Mandy dressed like a teacher with a long silk blouse and conservative black skirt, and her hair pulled up in a bun.

Kara carried a little back and reached into it to pull out a little mini-book entitled The Joy of Sex. As she flipped through it, Mandy came over and slapped the book out of her hand with a large ruler, feigning anger as she clapped her hands together.

Kara turned and bent over to reveal her thong-covered ass to the crowd, a pouty sort of expression on her face. Mandy caressed the supple skin of the young blonde girl's ass lovingly for a long moment, before she grinned devilishly and planted a hard swat right on target.

Kara shrieked and growled back over her shoulder at Mandy, who continued to grin as she slapped once again. Another shriek followed, and then another, and then another, until the flesh of Kara's butt cheek was bright red, and Mandy stopped to caress the sweet skin once more.

The music skipped, and with the song change came a change in the storyline, as Mandy dropped to her knees and began licking and kissing all over Kara's firm and rounded backside. Trent and Dave and Ben went wild; they had not expected that to happen.

Kara grinded her ass back against Mandy's face and squeezed her own breasts, and moaned loudly. And then she could take no more. She spun around and shoved Mandy hard to the floor, and straddled her friend's waist.

Kara ripped her top off, buttons flying everywhere, and then ripped off Mandy's top with the same effect. They were now both naked from the waist up, caressing and squeezing and playing with their breasts. Dave and Trent and Ben were now shouting wildly, and the girls showed their appreciation by exchanging a deep French kiss. The kissing did not stop when they came up for air, either; they just began kissing each other's bodies instead.

Kara caressed and tongued Mandy's breasts before she rose to her straddling position once again, pulling the other girl's head with her. Mandy buried her face between Kara's sumptuous tits, sucking and biting and trying to get outward to the hard little nipples.

The girls then slithered out of their skirts, leaving only the thong panties and Kara's stockings on, and Mandy kissed her way slowly down her lover's body. Kara arched her back as Mandy reached the place between her legs and ground her face into Kara's pussy, sucking the thin material of the thong into her mouth. Kara palmed her breasts and rocked her hips back and forth, as if trying to fuck her friend's mouth.

And then Kara's legs were in the air and her thong was removed, and Mandy was going to town on the beautiful pink lips themselves, tonguing them for all she was worth. Kara squealed and moaned, and rubbed her tits frantically.

"Suck my pussy, bitch!" Kara moaned, nothing at all like the innocent eighteen year-old she played at being. She began to tremble wildly and screamed, "I'M CUMMMMING!"

Whether she had actually achieved orgasm or not, Adam would never know, but either way she played the part well.

Mandy scurried up the lithe body of her lover and planted a wet, pussy-juice-smeared kiss on Kara's lips. They sucked face eagerly for a few long moments and grinded their bodies against one another.

And then they rolled over, allowing Kara to take control. She cupped Mandy's tits, kneading them roughly and rolling the erect nipples between her fingers.

Mandy was not one to sit idly by, however, as she grabbed Kara's head and held it firmly against her chest as the other girl licked and nibbled on the pliant and fleshy undersides of her breasts. Nor did her hands remain inactive; they reached under to fondle Kara's tits and did not stop there, trailing across the girl's skin to any particular places they could reach.

Kara shrieked and twisted away from Mandy's hands as they pinched her nipples, and with a playful glare she moved lower, sliding her tongue down Mandy's body until it hovered just above her glorious pussy, which was wet and dripping and twitching with anticipation. Kara flicked her tongue across the shaven lips before she reached under, gripped the firm cheeks of Mandy's ass and pulled her glistening folds hard against her mouth, spearing her tongue into the quivering crevice as far as it would go.

"Ooooohhhhhhhh ssshhhhhiiiittttttt!" Mandy wailed as she bucked her hips into Kara's wonderful young mouth.

Kara continued her onslaught to the enjoyment of Dave and Trent and Ben, plunging her tongue over and over into Mandy's cunt as the other girl's body shook wildly. Then she changed track and sucked the swollen clitoris into her mouth to nibble on it gently.

"Fuuucccckkkkiinnnggg bbbiiiittttcchhhh!" Mandy cried. "Bite my fucking clit, you bitch! Suck it!"

Juice coated Kara's face and began to trickle down her cheeks as she sucked and ate the pussy before her with reckless abandon to the great delight of the men. The scene lasted for several more minutes before Mandy reached her own climax.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, ohfuckohfuckohfuckohfuck I'mmm ccccuuummmiiiinnggggg!!!" Mandy screamed, so loud Adam wondered if the men outside could hear her. She grabbed hold of Kara's lovely blonde hair and held on as her body quaked violently and exploded into the girl's mouth.

Kara upped her antics, as well, grinding her face harder against Mandy's pussy. Mandy slumped back as the orgasm receded, but Kara did not stop; she sucked and tongued whatever juice oozed from her friend's pussy, as well as whatever had found its way down her thighs and legs.

 Finally, after long moments, things settled down as Mandy pulled Kara back up into an embrace. Their large breasts squished together as they kissed each other softly, suckling tongues. After several more moments, they rose to their feet, smiled at the crazed men, and left the room again.

Edward stepped forward yet again. "This concludes our performance. The ladies will freshen up and be out in a moment to say goodbye. Thank you."

Trent, not surprisingly, was back immediately to the bar. Dave and Ben were right behind. Adam rose and settled himself on the couch this time, preferring to wait there, instead.

The ladies did not make them wait long. Mandy and Kara were wearing white tee-shirts and jeans, no longer naked, and went right to the bar area where the other guys were. Holli was dressed in a tight white spaghetti strap top and short denim cut-offs that were frayed at the edges. Much to his delight, Holli seated herself next to Adam.

"I'm Holli, by the way," she said. "I don't think we were ever properly introduced."

Adam smiled. "Adam," he said simply, before he added, "Thank you." She cocked her head and looked the question at him without saying anything. He knew what she was asking. "Because you were lovely and professional and different, and that was enough to make my night a good one."

And then, amazingly, she blushed. "Thank you back, and for the same reasons."

It was at this point that Trent said loudly, "Why don't you girls stick around and hang with us for a bit? Have a few drinks maybe?"

 To which Kara exuberantly replied, "Love to!"

Edward did not look pleased. "I am not staying," he announced. "If you ladies want to stay, that is up to you. But your protection will no longer be here for you."

Adam was surprised to see Holli stand and walk over to the man, and whisper in quiet conference with him. While he was certain the others could not hear what was said, he was close enough to them to hear the whole conversation.

"I'll stay and watch out for the girls," Holli said.

Edward seemed surprised. "You, Holli?" he asked. "You've never been one to involve yourself in after-parties. Are you sure?"

She smiled calmly. "These ones are harmless. We'll be fine. I'll call you later."

Edward shrugged. "Have it your way," he said, and with that he and his bouncer friends were gone.

"Shots all around!" Ben cried.

Thirty minutes later, Adam was deep into conversation with Holli, and among the things she shared with him was that she was in a loving relationship with another woman, which was very surprising to hear.

"I'm bisexual," Holli told him without an ounce of embarrassment. "Actually, I'm mostly into women. I haven't been with a man in over two years. My girlfriend and I have been together that long and it's been wonderful."

Which is when the question he knew would come eventually came and everything in their polite and engaging conversation changed.

"Are you seeing anyone?" she asked.

And so he told her he was not, and she asked why, and so he told the answer to that, too, and he could see as he was telling her that she was maybe going to cry, and so he asked her if she would like to talk in another room, and she agreed.

Which is how they ended up in the bedroom.

Part Two: Double Dose of Debauchery

Benjamin Lane was having the time of his life. It was his bachelor party, it was Vegas, and there were two insanely hot strippers standing near him at the bar in the penthouse suite they had for the weekend. The girls were wearing two skimpy little bikinis, their jeans and white shirts discarded during a modified drinking game a few minutes prior.

And then, suddenly, the girls were not standing near him, they were standing next to him, including beautiful Kara, she of eighteen years and natural D-cup tits, who leaned in and whispered, "Care to join me on the couch?"

And the way she said it meant there was no way in hell he was going to say no. He nodded dumbly and Mandy, her gorgeous friend, laughed. "Don't worry, Ben. We won't bite." It was at this point that he realized both girls would be joining him on the couch.

"Much," Kara said as she took his hand.

She leaned forward suddenly and tilted her head back, and to Ben's complete surprise slowly placed her lips upon his. After a long and mesmerizing moment, he felt Mandy grip his chin and turn his head, and he was greeted with a second kiss. She took as much time kissing him as Kara hard, barely brushing her lips against his.

Ben wrapped his arms around them both, but Kara took his hand and slipped it down to cup one of her sweet butt cheeks. Mandy, not to be outdone, did the same. Ben was rock hard and could not believe what was happening. The three of them stood there kissing for several long minutes with Ben alternating between girls.

And while Ben was far more naïve and innocent and far less aggressive than Dave and Trent, he was feeling an immense level of bachelor-inspired confidence; he quickly asserted himself and push the boundaries to see just how far he could take their affections.

One of his hands delved down inside Kara's bikini bottoms over the sweet bare skin of her ass, and she giggled happily and spread her legs to allow deeper access. Ben trailed his middle finger down the soft crack of her ass and lower, all the way down to the slippery lips below. He wiggled it around, probing the wetness and heat of the youngest pussy he had ever touched, and was thrilled when she let him slide his finger inside her nearly an inch. She sighed deeply, dragged his mouth away from Mandy's, and stuck her tongue down his throat.

 Ben applied the pressure even further; the whole of his finger was soon swallowed by her velvety depths. She moaned into his mouth, at which point Mandy realized something more was happening.

"What's going on here?" she asked playfully.

To which Kara replied breathlessly, "He's fucking me with his finger."

Mandy grinned and kissed him deeply again, and said, "Let's move to the couch, huh, sweetie?"

And so they did, Trent and Dave watching them from behind the bar, wads of their cash lining the pockets of the girls discarded jeans, and the girls had Ben sit right in the center.

"A little present for the bachelor boy," Kara cooed as she stripped off her bikini top to reveal those beautiful breasts again. Mandy followed suit and the two girls moved in to straddle each of his legs, one girl per.

Mandy said, "I think I know something you would like," and then proceeded to push her tits into his face. Ben did not waste anytime, understanding completely the offer presented; he opened his mouth and took as much of her right breast between his lips as he could manage, and suckled away.

Kara, meanwhile, leaned in and began to pepper his neck with gentle kisses, nibbling his skin and tonguing his eyes as her hands skimmed over his body. Her hands were like magic upon his skin, but to be honest Ben hardly even noticed: Mandy had delectable breasts and he went to town upon them, switching from right to left, left to right and leaving no inch unappreciated.

But then Kara's hands found the meat between his legs and everything changed, because no longer were Mandy's tits the focal point. Ben nearly shot his load when the little blonde girl's hand unzipped his pants and snaked inside, fishing around for his cock. He was rock hard from having suckled such phenomenal tits and his cock was easy to find, and she found it.

Kara pulled it out and studied it, and purred, "Look, sweetie, a cock just for me."

Mandy pulled back and her breast popped out of Ben's mouth "I wish my boyfriend had a cock like that," she pouted.

"Well," Kara said with a grin, "I suppose I could share. Want to trade places?"

"Sure!" Mandy exclaimed, and moments later a second pair of tits was squished into Ben's face, this time the lovely breasts of the young blonde girl. Kara sighed as she squeezed her breasts into points at the nipples and fed them into his hungry mouth, which again he proceeded to suckle with abandon.

Kara groaned and mashed her other breast into my mouth, bringing the nipple right to his lips. Ben suckled and suckled and suckled, loving every moment. And then Kara sighed again and said, "I love to be sucked hard!" and so Ben increased the pressure on her tits, to which she responded, "Yes! Just like that, baby! Suck my shit!"

And Ben smiled when on the outside of his hearing, Trent said, "That can be arranged, too."

And following that, with his face full of beautiful breast, Benjamin Lane got the surprise of his life when he felt the unmistakable sensation of velvety soft lips sliding down his exposed cock. He tore his face away from deep in the valley of Kara's cleavage and looked down to find Mandy with her full and luscious red lips wrapped around his shaft.

It was indescribable and wholly unexpected. Kara was still enjoying herself and wiggled her tits to get them back into his mouth, and when his tongue flicked at her nipple she moaned loudly. Mandy, on the other hand, was sucking him deeper and deeper into her mouth, working farther and farther down his shaft with every bob of her head.

 She was very talented and would descend slowly for three strokes before dropping hard and fast on the fourth, forcing his thickness deeper, and in no time her down strokes had her nose grazing his pubic hair.

Ben was going to enjoy himself as best he could, and if the girls were willing to go as far as they had already, he was quite sure they were willing to go farther. He reached down and snaked his hand under Mandy's panties, and slipped a finger inside her fiery wetness.

She shivered and groaned, the sound reverberating down the length of his cock, and suckled him harder. He timed his finger-thrusts to coincide with the movement of her head, ramming a second finger into the gorgeous stripper while swirling her clit with his thumb.

Ben pulled his fingers from Mandy's vagina and brought them to his lips, and was about to suck the juice before Kara objected and took the hand, and placed it into her own hungry little mouth. Slowly she sucked his fingers as if each digit was its own mini-cock and within moments all were completely clean. Kara leaned in then to kiss him deeply, swirling her tongue over his to share the tasty juices.

"Switch?" Mandy asked, and Kara squealed happily.

"Great! I really wanted to try his cock," the young blonde said as she took up position between his legs.

 And so Ben was back to suckling on Mandy's fantastic tits, which left Kara to finish off his raging erection. And she planned to finish him off quick, judging by the frantic way she gobbled him.

Kara was like a woman possessed, her eighteen year-old mouth bobbing up and down at a breakneck speed (literally), and it only took a few minutes for Ben to begin to feel the familiar and wonderful feelings of orgasm building within him. He stopped suckling Mandy's tits, instead taking handfuls of each and holding on for dear life as Kara tried to suck the life out of him. Mandy wrapped her arms around him, stroking his hair with her hand. It was a wonderful position to be in, he thought fleetingly.

Then his stomach tightened and his cock began to twitch, and the orgasm overcame him. "Here it comes!" he cried as hot liquid sex shot from his cock into the warm and willing mouth of Kara.

And she swallowed it down, which only made Ben's orgasm more intense.

She continued to suckle him even after his orgasm receded, and he enjoyed those few minutes of peaceful bliss.

And then Kara said as his cock dropped out of her mouth, "We're just getting started, bachelor boy," and Ben realized it was going to be an awesome night.




The Healing of Adam Cross Pt. 01



* * *

Once they were alone in the privacy of his bedroom, Holli seated herself comfortably on the bed while Adam chose the nearby chair.

"I'm so sorry, Adam," the woman said after a long moment, and her voice was soft and sad. "You must hear that all the time."

Adam shrugged. "I've heard it a lot," he admitted.

"What are you going to do now?"

Adam shrugged again. "Don't know. I'm taking things one day at a time."

Holli's eyes went soft and sympathetic. "Is there anything I can do to help you?"

Adam frowned, not exactly sure what the woman was asking. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"To help you feel better," she replied, a strange little glint in her eye.

He knew she could not be talking about what he thought she was talking about; the woman was in a committed relationship with another woman. One of the reasons he found it so easy to talk to her was because he did not now feel any of the normal sexual subtext. "Sure, I guess," he said finally, "if you think you can help."

 Holli blushed and glanced down at her lap. "You helped me tonight, you know," she told him. "I had some personal things going on and even thought about canceling, but the money was too good to pass up. Seeing you smiling and acting so gentleman-like really helped me. You might have noticed I had a little thing for you."

Adam was a little embarrassed by the kind words. He blushed deeply and stared down at the floor. "Glad I could help," he said lamely.

When he looked up, he found her gazing at him intently. A knowing grin crept onto her face and her eyes softened. She rose slowly from out of her chair and approached him, her eyes never leaving his. Then, quite suddenly, she reached into her pocket and whipped out a little razor phone, and punched in a number.

She held there in silence, not moving, until he could hear a voice pick up on the other end, to which Holli replied, "I have a man with me and I like him very much. He's such a sweetheart and a gentlemen. May I?"

Again quite suddenly she reached out with her hand and laid it gently on his shoulder. She squeezed and brushed her thumb softly across the skin of his neck as she flipped the phone closed. He shivered at the touch, his mouth open and eyes wide and thunderstruck at what was happening, and she smiled. "My girlfriend just gave me the okay. With your permission, I would like to make love to you tonight. It's been awhile since I was with an actual man and not just a strap-on, but every woman needs a real cock sooner or later."

Adam stared up into her eyes, totally without words, utterly speechless.

"I've fantasized about doing this again for months now," she whispered, "but cocks connected to good men are hard to find. It's been a long time for you, too, and I would be honored to show you the way back."

She leaned in to him and brushed her lips against his, so lightly Adam wondered if he had imagined it. She lifted her hand from his shoulder and grazed across his lips with her thumb.

His heart was pounding a hole through his chest, not only because this stunningly beautiful woman was coming on to him, and hard, but because she was right when she said it had been a long time for him, since before Jocelyn passed away.

Holli smiled softly at the young man seated before her. It was such a sad story, his story of loss, and she was touched deeply by it. She could sense his unease and knew there were probably layers upon layers of conflict within him, and she was determined to give him a night he would never forget. Her own pleasure, while expected in spades, was an off-shoot.

She moved her thumb away from his lips and replaced it with her mouth. She kissed him gently at first, almost tentatively until she felt him respond. His mouth parted slightly and her tongue pushed past his lips and found his tongue. She felt her knees go weak and her body flush as his tongue began to dance around hers, tasting her, probing her as it grew more aggressive.

Adam felt her wobble and instinctively grabbed her around the waist, drawing her down into his lap as their mouths worked against each others. Her arms went around him and wrapped around his neck.

He was the first to break the kiss. He said nothing, just pulled back; eyes wide and staring, shell-shocked, into hers. Holli noticed with some excitement that he seemed rather out of breath. She smoothed her hands across his chest and snuggled closer to him, winding her arms around his neck, their noses inches from touching as she stared back at him. He smelled of musk and vanilla, and as she inhaled his scent she could feel the tingles grower fiercer between her legs.

She thought for the briefest moment of Michelle, her lover and partner, but shrugged the thought away. She knew what she needed and Adam was the one who would give it to her, not to mention she had already received whole-hearted approval. Plus, Holli figured, if he was good she could always bring him home and share him with Michelle.

Being with a man was so very different than being with a woman and because it had been so long for her, she sought to experience every possible aspect. And so without realizing it, Adam waged an all-out assault on her senses: the smell of his cologne mixed with the honey of his breath assailed her nose, his dark eyes bonded her and commanded her complete attention, and the way his fingers hovered over the skin at the small of her back sent sharp tingles shooting to the tips of her toes. He tasted wonderful; she had to have more. She flicked her tongue out and trailed it across his lips, lingering over first the top one and then the bottom. Her fingers snaked around behind his head and blazed a trail up through the curly brown locks of his hair.

Adam was struggling to maintain himself. The incredibly sexy stripper was perched in his lap, teasing his lips with her tongue, and here he was petrified by it. It had been so long, he worried if he still remembered how. Then again, he thought suddenly, it was the kind of situation young men only dreamed of: the woman was gorgeous, bisexual and obviously experienced, and apparently very willing.

What a fool he would be not to just go for it!

And in that moment, everything changed.

Holli froze, her luscious red lips parted slightly as she sensed immediately the change come over him; as a stripper she was, after all, a woman who had to be well tuned into the moods of men, and it thrilled her to know he had finally allowed himself to give in to his desires. She sensed the change: his body relaxed and his hands began to move on her, and she shivered.

Before she knew what to say or do, before she had time to think of what the change in him meant, he swept in again and his mouth crushed hers. She surrendered herself to him right then and there, giving up her body completely for his pleasure. She was ready to be taken, wholly and utterly.

Adam kissed her passionately as his fingers caressed her navel and midsection, circling her skin with feathered strokes, and he moaned and gripped the back of her head harder, grinding his lips against hers. His arms tightened around her waist.

Holli felt something sharp press into her thigh and with a lustful groan into his mouth she understood just how acute his arousal was. Her fingers slid out over his broad shoulders and the strong contours of his back; it felt wonderful to be touching the muscles of a man again after so much time with the softness of women. Her breathing quickened and the moisture between her legs began to soak through her panties.

Their tongues snaked playfully around each other as her hands rose to cup the sides of his face. Adam's fingers trailed around her sides and down into the small of her back, where they danced light as air over her skin. He felt Holli whimper into his mouth as he tickled her, and winced as her ass quivered and ground against his lap, and the fierce throbbing of his erection grew nearly unbearable. He drew her tongue into his mouth and suckled on it, and relished the taste of her. Then she broke away, panting loudly, chest heaving.

Holli stared at him for a long moment before she attacked him with unbridled gusto. Their lips mashed together, tongues intertwined again and frenzied in their search for anything to lick. Their hands flew to each other's bodies; as she tried to unzip his jeans, Adam tried to strip off her shirt. The manic way in which both went about pursuing their objectives simply made it impossible for anything to be accomplished, and within seconds both had given up the tasks for more unadulterated mouth savoring.

Her head fell back and she moaned as Adam traced a line of fire with his tongue from her lips back to her ear, and then on down across her neck. He suckled the tiny bulb of her apple and kissed up over the top of her chin.

Suddenly she pushed him away; it was time to give him what he wanted. "Stand up," she said, her voice hoarse with need.

She slid off his lap and onto her feet, and he rose with her. She came up to just below his chin and looked expectantly up at him, her blue eyes smoldering.

He moved in to kiss her again but Holli held him off; she had other ideas. She grasped the bottom of her white spaghetti strap top and drew it slowly up over her head. Adam's gaze dropped to her chest. Encased in a skin-colored silk and lace bra, the type of bra meant for everyday wear and not for flaunting yourself as a stripper, her breasts were magnificent: firm and high, and very real. They jiggled and swayed as she sucked in heavy, rasping breaths of air, her chestnut hair sweeping across the rounded crests as she shivered with unrestrained desire.

Fear of performance no longer inhibited him. There was a gorgeous female half-naked before him and Adam was damn sure going to enjoy himself. Boldly he reached out and, for the first time in more than three years, touched the breasts of a woman other than Jocelyn. He cupped them both in his hands and ran his thumb over the lace at the top of the bra, just skimming her nipples as they strained for release from the material.

"You're beautiful," he said, and he meant it.

Cold fire shot through Holli's body as Adam bent his head and placed his tongue against her nipple through the ever-so-thin silk of her bra. He gently began to nibble at the taut peak, taking care to caress it with his tongue every time his teeth scraped the sensitive flesh. She was shivering but she was not cold; she was hot, so very hot. She thrust her chest out to give him better access and threw her head back.

"Oh," she sighed.

Adam turned his attention to the other nipple while at the same time he reached around and unclasped the hooks of the bra. He raised his mouth from her flesh for merely a second as he removed the garment and tossed it onto the floor. She reached down and ran her fingers through his hair and over his shoulders as she watched him suckle and tease her nipples with his mouth and hands. He carelessly rolled her nipple between his fingers and she squealed.

Adam savored the deliciousness of Holli's breasts. Never had he imagined such a situation was possible when she first came through the door in that long trench coat, ready to dance. His hands moved down to her hips, urgent in their hungry search, until suddenly she pushed him away. He tried to return to her, but she held up her hand to stave him off. Those blue eyes sparkled mischievously.

Holli stood before him, her beautiful breasts bare to his eyes, and still Adam wanted more. His greed won out; he wanted all of her, and he was ready to take it.

She smiled wickedly at him; it seemed she had the same idea he did. The denim shorts she wore zipped up the front, and slowly Holli drew the binding down. The fabric slid from her body and dropped to the floor at her feet. She kicked it away, leaving her naked but for a pair of white lace, thong panties. He gazed again at her gorgeous breasts, ripe cantaloupes and twice as juicy with pink quarter-sized aureoles around stiffened red nipples. He marveled at the sight of her scrumptious legs, long and lean.

He moved toward her but she held up a hand. "Wait," the woman said quietly.

She stepped up next to him, the jutting nipples of her bosom brushing against the cloth of his shirt. Her perfume swept over him anew, and his head grew dizzy. Her fingers deftly stripped the shirt up and off his head to reveal his lean, athletic upper body. Her palms pressed up against his pectorals, testing their strength.

"It's nice to be able to touch a man again," she whispered, "You have a wonderful body."

Her hands went back to work, relieving him of his belt and dropping his jeans and boxers down into a pool around his ankles. His stiff, seven-inch member sprang out, the swollen testicles hanging like baseballs beneath it. Holli moaned as she saw the full size of him for the first time, and her mouth began to water as she imagined it deep inside her throat.

Suddenly Adam closed the distance between them, bringing himself almost on top of her before she could blink from the surprise, his face scant inches from hers.

"Stop," he ordered as she moved to take his member in her hand.

He dropped to his knees before her and with one swift motion, hooked his thumbs around the elastic band of her panties and yanked them down to the floor. She gasped as her landing strip of trimmed chestnut pubic hair and the thinly pursed lips of her pussy became exposed to the open air and to Adam's salacious stare.

Thin droplets of sex nectar trickled down from the pink crevice and hung there precariously. The sight was as magical as ever Adam could have imagined. He quickly flew to a standing position, and as he rose, his hands lashed out to grab the naked woman around her waist. Before Holli knew what was happening she was off her feet and flying backwards onto the bed, landing not painfully on her ass in the center of the mattress.

Her legs splayed out to the side, but suddenly froze in place as Adam loomed over her and took hold of them. She was totally naked now except for a little pair of white socks which barely covered the bulge of her ankles and her legs were spread wide for Adam's admiring gaze.

It was one of the most vulnerable and absolutely sensual positions she had ever been in; she would have to remember to use the move on Michelle.

Adam held her by her calves a moment longer, and then released them. It was time, he reasoned, to have a taste of the stripper who teased him so mercilessly earlier that night.

"Move forward, Holli," he told her, and watched as she obediently scooted her ass up until it rested right on the edge of the bed. As she did so, her legs had inadvertently drawn closed. Adam pushed them wide open again and gazed down at the soaking wet folds of her sacred zone. Holli rose up onto her elbows and watched as he crawled closer, licking his lips as his mouth drew towards the place where her legs met.

She realized with absolute euphoria what he was about to do. "Oh!" she cried. "Oh my god, Adam! Oh please, it's been so long since a man did this, sweetie. Please tell me you're going to eat me . . ."

Her voice betrayed her mixed emotions: jubilation, anxiety, and wanton sexual craving. To show her approval, she relaxed her legs, dropping them farther down to lay on the mattress with gymnast-like flexibility. Her pink crease quivered in anticipation.

Adam drew his fingers across her thighs, teasing the rarely relished, fleshy swath of skin, and blew a stream of warm air over her glossy gash. "Yes, Holli," he whispered without looking at her, enchanted by her moist honey pot, "as long as you want me to."

She moaned at his words. Expectation was killing her. "Eat me, Adam," she shrieked, "suck on me right now!"

Adam bunched his long frame up between her legs, his right arm braced against her left thigh with the hand resting comfortably on the smooth skin just below her navel, the thumb grazing her chestnut bush. With his left hand on her other thigh for support, Adam lazily lowered his head down into her lap and hovered there.

"Lick me, please, Adam!" the sultry stripper begged. "Please lick me, please!"

In the deepest spaces of his mind, Adam silently thanked Jocelyn for teaching him the finer points of cunnilingus. He considered himself quite talented, and he owed it all to her. A hint of sorrow touched him, briefly this time because the incredibly succulent sight scant inches before his eyes helped the moment pass.

"Ooohhhhhh, gggoooodddd," Holli moaned as Adam's tongue flicked out and landed at the top of her pink slit, just below the trimmed end of her brunette landing strip. With agonizing torpor Adam burrowed his tongue deep into her small inner labia.

He circled down slightly lower and found the small hard nub of her clit. He worked his tongue around it again and again, only grazing over the top once. Holli growled and her thighs pressed together, but Adam was stronger and held them open as he continued to work his magic.

"Uuunnnhhhh, mmmmm, aahh, aaahhh!" she shrieked as he attacked the center of her entire erogenous being. Her hands dug into the mattress as her head tossed back toward the ceiling and her back arched. The pleasure was almost too intense. Suddenly he withdrew, raising his head just slightly enough so that his tongue pulled off her tiny sex marble.

"Wha . . . what happened?" the twenty-four year-old stripper panted. She glanced down and saw Adam grinning up at her through the valley between her melon-sized breasts.

Slowly and with her eyes still connected to his, he brought the fingers of his left hand over from her thigh and pressed them up against her velvety folds. Then his right hand dropped lower, too, and his fingers spread her pink pussy lips apart. Adam gazed down upon the small, unquestionably tight entrance to her cock-house and sighed contentedly. The middle finger of his left hand traced the rim of her crevice and slowly pushed inside. Her pussy was soaked and easily allowed his digit access, and almost seemed to suck it further inside.

"Aaaahhhhhhh!" Holli moaned, hair flying around her head as it shook in a pleasured frenzy. "Yyeesssss!"

He sank his finger totally inside her; the second knuckle pressed into the thin spikes of her pubic hair. He began sliding it in and out, gaining speed, until soon he was fucking her hard with it. Pussy juice began leaking out around the sides of his finger as it jammed in and out, in and out of the hot and horny strumpet.

"Oohhhh, yyeeeaaahhh, Adam!" she cried. "Fuck me with your finger, I can feel it inside me!" Holli's excitement level rose exponentially with each passing moment.

His finger kept working her as Adam lowered his head and flicked his tongue across the tip of her clitoris. Then he clamped his lips down upon it and sucked, hard. The tongue lashed out again and circled it once before he withdrew.

"AAAHHHHHHHHH!" the woman screamed as her insides flipped upside-down. The world at large faded away, vanished, reduced only to her pussy and the oral ministrations this man was performing upon it. It was amazing, really; he was as talented as a woman when it came to eating pussy, which was the highest compliment Holli could bestow.

Adam drew his finger out and dropped his face into her lap again, bringing his entire mouth down on her saturated slit. He slurped at it, curling his tongue as he shoveled the accumulated juices into his mouth. His tongue found her slippery gash and wormed its way inside, and the walls of her love tunnel bore down upon it, proving just how tight the gorgeous brunette beauty really was.

"Oohhhh, yes, Adam," she cried, "yes, Adam, yes, never ever stop eating my PPUUUSSSYY!"

Holli's hands grasped his hair and pushed him hard into her crotch, burying his face in her dewy pussy as her hips bucked violently. Adam struggled to keep his hold on her and barely succeeded by grabbing her by the waist with both hands, all the while swirling his tongue around her tasty insides. His tongue exploded from within her and basted the exterior folds, feverishly savoring every centimeter of her shiny wet cunt.




The Healing of Adam Cross Pt. 01



"Eat my pussy, Adam!" she screamed. "I'm there! I'm right FUCKING THERE!"

Her body detonated as his oral assault bombarded her clitoris. Lights burst behind her eyelids, magenta and sapphire and neon green, as shivers of bone-jarring ferocity coursed down her spine to the farthest reaches of her nervous system.

"Aaahhh, ahhh, aahhhh, ahh, ah," she whimpered, tears running down her cheeks as she sobbed in ecstasy. The woman's heels dug into his back and scraped along the skin as her hips danced beneath his mouth. For what seemed like an eternity her body twisted and jumped in the agonizingly intense throes of climax as Adam continued to munch away on her sweet twenty-four year-old nectar.

Then her body tensed suddenly and collapsed to the couch in a withered heap.

The beautiful woman was completely out of it as Adam let the juice still trickling from her sex-hole flow over his tongue and lips. He gave her pussy one last, sloppy wet kiss (eliciting another spasm from her) and rose to survey the scene he had created.

Holli's hair was a ragged mess, her head turned to one side. Her arms were thrown back above her head, her tits rising like mountains off her chest, and her ribcage appeared and disappeared beneath them as she swallowed oxygen in fits and starts. A glossy sheen of sweat coated her skin. He smiled, admiring his own achievement, and crawled up next to her on the bed.

Reality crept slowly back to Holli's mind as she reveled in glorious orgasmic afterglow. She knew where she was again, at least; the penthouse suite with Adam Cross, pussy-eater extraordinaire. She wondered, fleetingly, how a man had learned something so magnificent; it must have been the woman who passed away, she thought with a hint of sadness. She opened her blurry eyes and saw a distinctly male form looming over her.

Fingers grazed her sides in feathery strokes and she shuddered; her skin was still fresh to the touch. Her back arched to its extreme, thrusting her breasts out. The fingers swept up over her tits and grabbed hold, roughly squeezing the doughy flesh. As Adam jiggled her boobs his palms tickled her nipples, still sensitive from her eruptive climax.

Suddenly she felt his lips brush her sternum, kissing her lightly there, then on the upper foothills of her breasts. "Adam," she whispered urgently, begging him forward. His mouth slid subtly higher: the curve of her neck, the soft spot beneath her chin, along the line of her jaw all the way back to her ear. His tongue traced the rim of her ear, and the feel of his hot breath drove her to the brink again. It darted inside, teasing her wildly, then retreated, allowing his lips to close over her lobe, suckling on it gently.

"Oooohhhhh," she moaned, "that feels so good..."

His tongue skimmed away, drawing a watery line of fire across her cheek, and dropped down onto her mouth. His tongue sliced past her defenses, demanding entrance. Her trembling hands reached up and caressed his hair, threading the curls through her fingers. They trailed lower to cup his face as her tongue entwined with his. Holli felt her whole being go weak and could feel nothing except his passionate mouth.

Suddenly he broke away from her, gazing down upon her with hungry eyes. He grinned devilishly and she felt a tingle deep inside her pussy. And yet, she would not let him have all the control.

She grinned right back as lasciviously as she could manage. His eyes widened at the brazenness in her eyes. Slowly she brought her hands off his shoulders and drew them up to rest on the mattress above her head. There they held fast, about six or so inches above her head, wrists crossed.

"Take me, Adam." The force of her own words, the submissive authority, thrilled her. She wanted to be dominated by him, but she wanted him to know she was the one truly in control. "Do whatever you want with me right now on this bed. Flip me, fuck me, make me your whore. I'm yours."

"Whatever I want," he said breathlessly.

Adam stood up and surveyed anew the wanton woman before him. Her arms were at the sides of her head, hand crossed just above. Her breasts were stretched upon her chest, but because they were natural and not bought and paid for, they jiggled with her every twist and squirm. Her skin was still flushed red from desire and recent orgasm, and her back remained arched. Her legs were splayed out to the sides, opening for his viewing pleasure her swollen and quivering nether regions, still dripping juice. Her eyes smoldered as they locked upon his turgid cock, seven-inches and rather thick, standing straight as a pole.

He stepped forward and straddled her chest with his knees, bringing his manhood to within a foot of her face. She licked her lips as she realized he was going to let her taste it. She wanted so badly to feast upon him. So badly she wanted to suck him until he popped.

His finger slid under her chin and tilted her eyes up to meet his face. "Do you like it, Holli?" he asked, and she nodded vigorously. He gripped his penis at the base with his left hand and pointed it forward at her head. "Is this what you want?"   

"Please, Adam, let me," she pleaded. "Let me taste a man's cock again . . ."

Adam nodded. "Yes," he said as he scooted farther up, as high as her armpits would allow his knees to go. "Open your mouth, then, Holli, and let me give it to you."

Holli's long pink tongue rolled out of her mouth like a red carpet before an awards show and Adam hunched forward to bestow his crowned head upon it. Her tongue flicked around the bottom side of his shaft like a hummingbird at a feeder, and Adam wailed a pleasure-induced groan.

He raised his member off her frantic tongue, and then slammed it back down again. He used his hand to viciously smack his cock (whack) on her tongue several times like a nun disciplining a bad student with a ruler. Whack! Whack! Adam thoroughly enjoyed the lewd sight. Whack! She took the abuse submissively, mouth open with yearning like a chicklet waiting for its momma to feed it. Whack! Whack! Whack!



"Give it to me, Adam!" she blubbered.

He could hardly believe what was happening. Holli was beautiful, yes, and a stripper, yes, but he would never have suspected she was capable of letting him dick-slap her tongue with his cock, and it seemed she was ready to go even farther.

Adam dropped his hands to the couch at the sides of her head and thrust forward with one smooth motion. His cock slipped easily into the stripper's receptive mouth and she instantly began to suck and lick with absolutely manic need. Her burning tongue flew over his shaft in a swirling motion as her luscious red lips wrapped around the head. Four inches disappeared inside her wet, willing mouth as she worked farther and farther down the length of his shaft.

Adam was in heaven. The woman really knew how to handle a cock (which was surprising after so long a layoff) and he would have be careful. His control was probably terrible at the moment. He loved the slurping sound she made as her tongue and lips slid down his shaft, and by now nearly the whole seven inches would progress into her throat before receding. Every now and again she would stop and lavish a few delicate kisses on the mushroomed head, stealing a ravenous glance up at him as she did so. She didn't forget his balls, either; she spent a few endless minutes sucking them in and spitting them out, rolling them around her tongue, and licking over the curve down to the underside.

"Ahhhh," he sighed as she engulfed his member once again, and he felt himself grow closer to that as-yet unwanted peak. He tore his shiny phallus away from her vice-like lips and left it untouched. Holli raised her head, trying to reach it, but Adam placed on hand squarely on her chest and shoved her back onto the bed. Droplets of pre-cum dribbled from his hole and landed on her stomach.

He crawled down her body and Holli spread her legs, knowing what was coming next, needing it desperately. She was like a firecracker waiting to be lit up. Adam's right hand left its place of support and grazed over her taut tummy. He tickled her trimmed patch of downy brown curls, bypassed her honey pot, and grabbed a thick handful of her tight rump. His fingers traced her anus, and her eyes went wide as baseballs; she loved when Michelle pleasured her sweet little rosebud, which was rare. Then his hand crept higher and rubbed swiftly at her rubbery labia, sloshing the wetness around again.

"Now," she whispered so quietly he almost couldn't hear her.

"What?" he asked, teasing her.

"Now." She said it louder this time, her voice rough with passion. "I want you now. I want you inside me. Now."

"What do you want?" Adam asked as he pivoted up and moved his knees forward until they squished against the back of her thighs. His cock lay nestled in the patch of her pubes, and the hair tickled the large vein crisscrossing it.

"Make love to me!" she hotly encouraged. She glanced down and saw him position his engorged penis at the entrance to her pussy. "I want you inside of me. Fuck me, fill me up, I need it so badly! No man has ever had me like this, Adam. Fuck me hard!"

The vehemence of her dirty words caused Adam to stiffen and his dick to jump. She asked (no, demanded) that he use her, and so he did. Both young people held their breath and watched awe-struck as he proceeded, thrusting slowly forward, the head of his cock stretched and parted the slick pink folds of her sex hole. He felt it as they closed over the crown and her vagina begrudgingly opened up for him. She was tight, extremely tight, and the walls of her pussy compressed his penis, squashing it.

Adam pushed farther inside, relishing the snugness, and Holli dug her hands into his chest, head thrown blissfully back. He paused, letting her tiny crevice grow accustomed to his girth. Then he drove another thick inch of his boner into her velvety sheath, and another. Slowly her forgiving flesh allowed him to pack more of his monster inside her; he almost spurted at the sight of her pussy lips sucked in around his shaft.

"Ooooohhhh, Adam," she blubbered, "you're filling me up! More, give me more!"

Suddenly her vaginal muscles flexed, involuntarily squeezing the invading steel rod. He cried out at the delectable feeling of her sugary walls milking him.

With two full inches of his shaft left before the hilt he felt the tip of his dick press up against her cervix. Her pussy, it seemed, was small (only six inches were meant to receive). Jocelyn had been the same way and he knew exactly what to do. He lingered there, enjoying the feel of her: her tight, juicy pussy was like hot butter molding around his manhood.

Adam gripped the pillows of her ass tightly and slowly dragged his phallus back out of her. Her swollen pink flaps sucked at his exiting prick. Soon the head appeared and he stopped, holding it there, barely poking into her vaginal gash. He held fast, wanting her to beg for it, which she did.

"Don't stop," she pleaded in a low, urgent voice, "put it back in me!"

He slid himself back into her oily depths, a little faster this time, and when he reached the end of her cunt he repeated the process, cramming himself in even faster than before. Her hands wrapped around his back, pulling him closer, and her nails scratched a set of deep lines across his skin.

"Mmm, Adam, oohh, mmm, yes, right there, right there, mmm, aaaahhh," Holli moaned with each hard rabbit-thrust into her clutching sex.

"Unnhhh," he grunted in response, unable to utter a single coherent word. He grabbed the woman's sides just under her breasts and held them firmly.

She reached down to cup her jiggling breasts as Adam began thrusting in and out of her petite, demure, delicious vagina. Her spindly legs wrapped around his ass as it pumped at her, drawing him deeper still. She could feel the thick head of his cock battering against the back of her pussy with each repeated thrust. He felt his penis bend slightly as it did so.

Then the walls crumbled and his penis broke through. His hips slammed into her groin, the forest of black curls above his loins mingling with her brunette ones. His cock burst through her cervix and into a cavernous area that could only be considered her womb. The length of his shaft lurched inside her from the new, extreme sensations.

Pain seared through Holli's body and she stiffened, clutching him fiercely by the shoulders and she let out a shriek. It felt like a thick wooden stake was being driven straight up the middle of her, cutting her in two. Within moments, however, the pain had receded to a dull ache. It reminded Holli of the first time she had had sex; Adam made her feel like a virgin all over again. She smiled up at him at the thought, knowing he couldn't know why she was smiling despite the pain. He had stopped moving, but she urged him on again.

"Keep fucking me, Adam," she mewed into his shoulder. "Don't stop, please don't stop."

Tentatively he began again, drawing his entire length back out before slowly inserting it back in. He paused before he reached her cervix, but she begged him forward again. His cock broke through easily this time, and he watched as he heaved his heavy erection in and out her well-fucked cunt. The feel of Adam's shaft brushing her sensitive cervix sent lust-driven chills coursing through her body.

"Aaaaaaah, Adam, oooooooh, oh," she cried as she felt the first tingles of orgasm building deep within her palpitating sex. "Aaaahhh, aaahhhhhh, ahhhhh, ah, ah, aaaahh!"

He sped up, poking her pretty pink pussy over and over again with rapid, well-delivered thrusts. He varied the depth and angle of his entry: some high, some low, some hard, some soft, some shallow, some almost bottomless. His balls swung down with every deep plunge and slapped against the soft cushions of her ass.

"Oh, Adam, fuck me," she wailed, babbling incessantly, "fuck me, fuck me hard . . . make me cum, fuck me, I'm your whore, Adam, fuck me good . . . stick it in me deeper . . . fuck me with your fat cock, I want it deep inside me . . . I'm your hot slut fuck toy, Adam . . . use me, fucking pound me, Adam . . . fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!" Her body shivered and she whimpered as her nails dug into his shoulder. "I'm there, right there, I . . . I . . . aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh!"

Adam tensed and staved off his own explosion as the hot femme's pussy began to quake around his cock. Her hips bucked up and down, to and fro against him as he speared her repeatedly, again and again.

"Oh, oh, oh, oohh, ooohhh, OOOOHHHH MMMYYYYY GGGOOOOOODDD!" she screamed, not caring how loud she was, or who might be able to hear her.

Hot neon lights burst in skittle rainbows before her eyes, blocking out the world. She floated, weightless, formless, in a rolling sea of nothingness, oblivious to everyone and everything, knowing only the intense spasms of pleasure streaming forth from between her legs. Her body sang with passion and her blood flowed with one mission and one mission only: to fuel the fires ravaging her cunt.

Adam stopped moving and watched the gorgeous stripper he was fucking quiver and churn as orgasm wreaked its havoc upon her body. Her pussy clenched and relaxed around his penis like an uptight businessman squeezing a stress ball. Adam gazed upon her nude, convulsing form: Holli's body was glistening with sweat; her head rolled back and forth, spraying her beautiful brunette tresses wildly out to the sides; her hands cupping her adorable tits, her fingers tweaking and twirling the nipples.

Finally she collapsed, lying motionless beneath him. He relaxed his rough grip on her tiny waist. His hands reached down and plucked her legs up off the couch, gripping them just above the knees. He brought them together and pushed them up and back toward her chest, seemingly bending her in half, all the while keeping himself stiff inside her. She hardly even noticed what he was doing; the aftereffects of her intense orgasm were so powerful.

Adam, however, was not about to waist this glorious opportunity. This was a move he perfected over the two years with Jocelyn, who would frequently experience moments of stupor during and just after having sex.

He settled his feet on the floor and his hands let Holli's legs fall to rest on his shoulders. He kept her legs positioned next to each other by placing his hands on the mattress of the bed on either side of her head. She looked like big letter "V", legs locked at the knees with her feet way up past his head. Her taut tummy was crisscrossed with wrinkle lines from the way her body was contorted. From this position, Adam could easily fuck her pussy by thrusting downward into her raised hips.

Steadily he began driving himself deep inside her again. Her legs pressed together increased her already unbearable snugness and also allowed for very deep penetration. Holli's eyes stayed shut, head lolled to the side, pink tongue slightly visible between her sultry lips. He continued to bang into her; she worked the muscles of her cunt without even knowing she did so, an involuntary reaction to the hard fucking her body was enduring. Her body simply responded to the stimulus.

Adam watched in awe as he plunged his fat cock into her tight sex hole, his girth forcing her pink folds wide apart. Holli's eyes fluttered open and she gasped as the renewed sensations struck her with the force of a Mac truck on the highway. He hammered into her, hard, and quickly she realized a second climax was closing in.

"Not . . . again," she wailed, tears in her eyes, "oh fuck . . . I can't take anymore . . . fuck, fuck me forever, don't stop . . . just fuck me, Aaaaaaadddaaaaaammmmmm!"

Soon Adam was thrusting harder and faster than ever before; he was through holding anything back. He fucked the chestnut-haired sex kitten with every ounce of his being, slamming into her over and over. Her ass rippled as their hips crashed together, his balls smacked against her supple butt.

"Uuuuunnnnnhhhhh!" Adam bellowed.

"Cum in me, Adam!" Holli screamed. "Cum inside me, fuck me good!"

He plunged his dick into her up to the hilt, his pelvic bone grinding against her clitoris. She shrieked like an Irish banshee as another mind-shattering orgasm erupted inside her, just as Adam's own climax found him ready and waiting. He trembled and left his cock buried in her as his nuts shriveled and heaved. He cock lurched and spunk spouted from his piss-slit into Holli's heavenly inner sanctums. Pulse after pulse of his white hot cum flooded her pussy, filling her chamber to the brink and then some. Rivers of their mingled fuck syrup poured out around the cracks between his dick and her pussy and trickled down the crack of her ass.

Adam let the woman's legs down and collapsed on top of her, sliding off to the side of her sweat-slick body. He felt totally spent. "Wow," he whispered into her ear. He kissed her forehead, salty from her sweat, and trailed down to her lips. His left hand cupped her breast, massaging it gently.

Holli kissed him back, then pulled away and looked up at him with big doe eyes. Suddenly her beautiful blues misted over, and she began to cry. He held her tightly to him, petting her matted hair, riding out the sobs with her.

"That was wonderful," she said, sniffling.

"I feel the same way," he said softly, meaning it.

"I can't believe I just fucked a man again!" she sighed as she wiped her tears away. "I can't believe it was that good!" Her hand traced a path along the curve of his shoulder and down over his strong chest.

"Yes, it was," he agreed.

She blushed, a genuine rose-colored blush that swept onto her face like the sun sweeping shadows aside, and Adam felt himself grow all soft and warm at the sight of it. She held out her arms to him. "The pillows, please, Adam," she said, and he understood at once. He pulled her up from the bed and in one fluid motion, lifted her naked body up into his arms. He teased her neck with his tongue as he carried her back to the part of the King bed where the pillows were.




The Healing of Adam Cross Pt. 02



Author's Note: This story is an original work of fiction, the second in a series of stories expected to include several parts; it is recommended the reader first reads Part 01. Future additional spin-off stories starring some or all of these characters might also be forthcoming based upon response and demand. Certain characters featured herein may also be found in other works by the authors. Feedback is desired and greatly appreciated. Email comments to the address in our profile. Thank you for reading.

Copyright 2011 by Jack and Josephine Cutter.

This story stars: Adam Cross, Holli Coverton, and Tiffany McCullough, and features Trent McCullough, Dave Cartwright, Benjamin Lane, Kelsey Cartwright, Heather James, Josie Haynes, Michelle Johnson, and Jessica Barnes.

This story contains: male-female erotic coupling, fellatio, cunnilingus, analingus, light bondage, trickery, infidelity, revenge fucking, male domination, public restrooms, a pseudo-threesome, arrogant pricks, pissed off wives, and significant decisions.

This story begins post-prologue on Monday, October 03.

* * * * *

One of his earliest memories of her was at the beach, just after they met. They were both young and frivolous, and her bikini had been small and bright and conspicuous, and she loved the attention she received. She was always one to own the spotlight, though never haughtily or with conceit; she loved to make people laugh and to entertain, and he loved her for that reason, and many others.

On that day, they lounged in the hot sun and splashed through cold ocean water, and laughed and enjoyed their togetherness, and later, much later, as the moon drifted overhead and blankets kept them warm from the chilly sea breeze, they made love so leisurely and tenderly that it took nearly an hour for him to climax, but the pleasurable interim would remain, looking back, one of the best instances of his life, the hour he spent inside her.

He would cherish that memory the rest of his days.

Chapter 03: Bait and Switch 

It was a beautiful, sunny day at the beach.

The warm rays of the midday sun beat down upon her body in a delightfully sizzling way, further coloring her already golden brown skin. She lay on her back on an oversized towel spread out upon the sand, perhaps some thirty yards from the surf, close enough to feel the occasional wind-carried ocean spray and salty sea breeze, far enough to remain blissfully dry.

She had not moved in nearly an hour, but when the flesh of her bottom vibrated, Michelle Johnson sat up and reached down under to where her cell phone was hidden beneath her rump, and looked at the screen. Her girlfriend was calling, which cheered her greatly, and so she answered it with a playful, "Hey, sweetie."

The responding voice was at once breathlessly excited and gravely serious. Michelle listened intently as the situation was explained, the details given, and the machinations described, and at the end, she found she had only one request.

"Fine, sweetie," she said, with infinite patience and understanding, and more than a little surety of self, "you do what feels right. I'll have some for myself, however, and very soon. Agreed?"

Satisfied with the response, Michelle gave her goodbye and returned to her leisurely position, this time rolling to her stomach. She reached back and plucked at the strings of her bikini, hoping to engender an all-over tan. The sun was out in force and she had the day off from work, and she planned to spend the whole of it sunning and surfing.

And being one of sweet disposition herself, she wished her girlfriend well on her little adventure.

* * *

In the months since Jocelyn died, Adam Cross had launched himself into his work with ridiculous fervor. He was currently in the process of writing four investigative news pieces for the paper, not to mention an active consultant for the "breaking news" desk. His work kept him busy and keeping busy kept his mind off Jocelyn.

He could now add another item to his short list of distractions: the memory of his weekend.

He still could not believe his incredible stroke of fortune in meeting the beautiful Holli. Not only was she gorgeous, sexually adventurous, and willing, she was also attached to another woman, which meant there would be no romantic entanglements. It was the perfect situation for them both: he got back into the saddle, felt connected to someone again sexually, and had a fun, no-strings-attached experience, while she got to enjoy the pleasures of a man again, something she very much wanted, but had not done in over two years.

And it would not be their last time.

In fact, Adam thought with a grin as he sat at his desk, he was in store for some special things in the coming weeks and months; Holli had intimated she would likely want to bring Adam back for Michelle, a novice when it came to live men, to sample. Holli and her lover, fortuitously and coincidentally, lived in Los Angeles, not Las Vegas.

Which is why Adam felt his hopes lift when his phone rang Monday afternoon. The two had exchanged numbers after their Saturday night rendezvous with promises to get in touch back in LA, and while it was a little sooner than he expected, he had not complaints at all; he was thrilled, actually.

"Hello?" Adam asked when he answered.

"Hi, Adam," a sexy feminine voice chirped, with just the faintest touch of apprehension, "it's Holli, from this weekend?"

Adam felt his spirits lift and a smile broke out over his face. "Hi, Holli," he said, "I'm so glad you called. I wanted to thank you for such a wonderful night last weekend."

The woman giggled. "Thank yourself, Adam, you were incredible. I don't think I've ever felt so happy and relaxed with a man before." She quieted for a moment, and when she spoke again, her voice was lower and very conspiratory. "In fact, I'd really like to see you again, if possible."

He hoped she would say that, even expected it to some degree, but hearing her say the words still surprised him. Delighted him, but surprised him. "I'd love to, Holli. What did Michelle say?"

"She gave me the total thumbs up. Would you like to come over to my place for dinner tonight? I live in Marina Del Rey, not too far from the docks."

Adam could feel the goofiness of the grin on his face, much like the cat getting the cream. "Love to," he said, and fought to contain himself: the rest of the day was looking up, indeed.

* * *

Holli lived on the tenth floor of a luxurious condominium complex overlooking the marina. There was a valet at the circular drive-up and two guards seated behind a desk in the sleek entrance area.

"Good evening, sir," the guard said. "Whom are you visiting this evening?"

"Holli Coverton," Adam replied as he signed in at the desk. "Suite Ten-Forty-Two."

The guards exchanged a skeptical glance, then turned back to appraise him. Adam wondered how many men came calling on a place shared by two long-term, romantically involved females, and by the guards' reaction, it was likely not many.

"Wait here a moment," the man on the left said, not with hostility, but not particularly warmly either. He picked up his phone, punched in four numbers, and waited. "Miss Holli? It's Martin at the front desk. There's a man here to . . . yes, ma'am."

The man set the phone down and smiled, and this time there was warmth. "Sorry about that, sir. The elevator is around the corner."

Adam chuckled. "I completely understand, my man. Have a good one."

And so Adam found himself a short time later standing before the door of Holli Coverton's condo, eager once more to see the beautiful brunette, forever-and-a-day away from anything he could have imagined when she first sauntered out into the penthouse living room in Vegas. He knocked, and after several moments, she answered.

Michelle was a very lucky woman: Holli was an absolute knock-out.

In her own element, without the stripper make-up, flashy clothes, and Vegas vibe, she was amazingly even more lovely than before, long and willowy with flowing chestnut hair that absolutely cascaded from her head. She wore a knee-high dress, simple and elegant, and colored to match her bright blue eyes. Her smile sparkled and those eyes flashed, and she stepped forward to embrace him warmly.

"Hello, Adam," she breathed inside his arms. "It's nice to see you again."

"Likewise," he replied with a smile of his own, inhaling the sweetness of her scent.

Holli took his hand gently and led him into the main room of the condo. He noticed a framed photograph on the wall featuring Holli and another woman, a gorgeous blonde, at the beach. "Is this Michelle?" he asked. "She's stunning."

"Thank you," Holli said. "Stunning, yes, and the most wonderful person in the world, too. Would you like something to drink?"

It seemed like a wine kind of night and Holli was happy he suggested it, and soon after that they were sitting on her oversized couch, sipping their respective glasses, slipping once more into the easy sort of conversation they shared in Vegas.

"The rest of the trip was fine," Adam was saying, "a little long, but decently enjoyable, although the night with you made it a weekend I'm unlikely to ever forget."

Holli giggled. "Sorry, I totally feel the same way, but I laugh every time I think about the next morning."

Adam chuckled himself at the memory: escorting her out of the suite that next morning, the morning after their night of unexpected passion, the two had discovered a veritable fraternity-esque scene of drunken debauchery. Five fully naked bodies had been passed out on the floor, as Dave, Trent, Ben, Mandy, and Kara were still sleeping off the effects of their own night of intense fucking. Holli had been the one, with girlish squeals, to point out the dried cum caking the skin of the girls in several places, and that barely scratched the surface of what they found; it had been one of the most remarkable scenes Adam had ever witnessed.

"Ridiculous," was what he said then, and how he categorized it now.

They laughed, and then quieted, and Holli looked at him sidelong and asked, not unsurprisingly, "I hope you don't take this the wrong way, or that I don't overstep my bounds, but they don't really seem like the kinds of men you would run around with."

Adam met her gaze. "Honestly? I'm friendly with them, but I wouldn't really call us friends."

She nodded, and accepted his word."Why do you think married men do those kinds of things? The other men were married, right? And one is getting married soon? Why do they act like that?"

They were getting into deep waters, but Adam did not mind. "I don't know," he said simply. "It was never my way, but many men act as they choose in the moment, regardless of others. The men I was with . . . well, let's just say that despite some good qualities—and they do have some good qualities—in some areas they leave a lot to be desired."

Holli probed further. "What would their wives do if they found out?"

Adam shrugged. "Who knows," he said, and was ready to say more before he stopped himself.

He considered the women who were Jocelyn's closest friends. He knew them, some more than others but all very well, from both personal experience and from all the little things Jocelyn had told him over the years, which was quite a bit, and he suddenly realized exactly what they would do if they knew how their men behaved.

Holli read the change on his face. "And?" she asked with a hint of amusement.

Adam grinned sheepishly. "Nothing, it's just that, thinking about it, I know exactly what those women would do. I actually know some of their wives better than I know the men. They would not get mad, they'd get even. They're good women and they've been very kind and good to me, and they're all very sharp, very smart women, but they are also extremely uninhibited. They'd probably go out and screw five times as many men as the number of women they knew their husbands were sleeping with."

Holli studied him then for a long moment. "You're a good man, Adam Cross," she said finally, "you know that? If Michelle weren't around, my preference for ladies would be in serious jeopardy." She blushed and glanced down at her drink. "And thank you for being so gentlemanly last weekend. It is a rare thing to find that kind of respect in that business."

Adam felt his own cheeks go red at the compliment, which seemed so much more than some of the others she'd bestowed. "I was just acting the way I felt was right," he admitted.

"That's why I like you so much," she replied, and then grinned. "And why I want to fuck your brains out again tonight!" His eyes bulged and she laughed. "Come on, dinner is almost ready."

Holli proved herself a phenomenal chef: the food was delicious, an old family recipe for honeyed chicken passed down three generations. The conversation was equally thrilling, and over the course of the night Adam came to know beyond doubt that Holli would swiftly become a very good friend of his, whether sex was involved or not.

After dinner, they returned to the couch for more wine and relaxation, but the calm of the night would not last long; Adam could feel the heat of anticipation rising in the room. The memory of their last night together coupled with a stream of sassy commentary, combined again with the warmth created by the wine, and Adam found his ability to think straight severely compromised.

That is, he found he could think of little but for the memory of her exquisite breasts.

He looked up from his empty wine glass to find her gazing at him inquisitively, as a knowing grin crept onto her face. "Would you mind if I come a little closer?" she asked.

"Not at all," he replied, and suddenly he was filled again with the sweet scent of the woman as she crawled into his lap. She leaned in, blue eyes twinkling, and pressed her lips to his.

She gasped as their tongues touched and his arms wrapped around her slender form, and her fingers came up through his hair to cup his head in her palms. The kissing session was long and leisurely as they licked and kissed and nuzzled one another, and held each other tight; they had both been so frenzied and nervous during their last encounter, it was nice to feel comfortable, go slow, and revel in the sensations. For Adam, it was nice to enjoy the unrushed feel of a woman again, while Holli enjoyed the strong arms of a man.

Adam's hands slid down from her shoulder blades to curl under the cheeks of her rump, still above the dress. He squeezed gently and she giggled into his mouth.

She pulled back. "May I?" she asked, one eyebrow arched impishly, and he nodded despite not knowing what she was asking.

Which is why he groaned with surprise and anticipation when she pressed into him and slithered down, dragging her lusciously plump, still clothed breasts over the length of his body before settling between his legs with her knees on the floor. She grinned coyly up at him as she fished inside his jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping, to draw his very hard erection out of its confines.

"I did not get to do this long enough last time," she told him, "and sucking cock is something I have greatly missed. You shall be the lucky beneficiary."

His breath caught in his throat. Her words were gloriously naughty, and the way her lovely face hovered over his penis and her tongue slipped across her bottom lip—itching to taste him—were incredible sights to behold. He burned them into his memory.

Holli leaned in and drew the flat of her tongue from the base of his shaft to the tip, and he sighed heavily and shivered. Almost casually, the woman took him into her mouth and down her throat, descending further and further until the whole of him was down and his tip was tickling her tonsils—seven inches, one shot.

It was incredible and Adam very nearly came right there, and then again when the muscles of her tongue and throat massaged the invading meat. She was exceptionally good—which was a crime if he was the only one in a long time to have enjoyed it. Then she withdrew, one of her hands taking the place of her mouth, the other hand fondling his balls.

"Careful," he moaned, letting her know that what she was doing, and doing well, was taking him very close to the edge.

Which was, apparently, exactly what she wanted: she closed her mouth over the head again and sucked with unbridled gusto as her hand jacked him up and down at a rapid pace. He grunted, his body twitched, and he felt himself sliding into the abyss.

 He looked down and their eyes locked, and the eagerness, willingness, and wanting he saw in her sparkling blues finished him. He spasmed once and exploded, and ropes of sticky white cum flooded her mouth. He lost count after the first three pulses, his attention diverted by the suction just then applied to swallow the fluid down. Her efforts were not enough to capture everything, however; semen trickled from one corner of her mouth.

And then he finished, mind reeling, and Holli sat back on her heels. She was smiling contentedly, very proud of herself and how quickly her ministrations overtook him. She used her fingers to wipe the little bit of cum from her face, sucked them, grinned, and dipped her head again to lick away any vestiges of sperm upon his cock. It was gentle and thorough, and felt so good Adam never actually lost his erection.

Holli stared at his unflagging cock in amazement, then raised her head to look at him. She was ready to be fucked, and hard, and it was written all over her face. "Would you like to see the rest of our home?" she asked in a husky voice.

"Love to," he replied, and they rose to their feet together.

The bedroom was at the end of the hall, past two broad double French doors with frosted glass. She glided into the center of the spacious room and turned to face him as she slipped the dress from her shoulders and let it fall to the floor. She was left in a matching bra and underwear, which she promptly removed as he stripped off his own clothes, too.

He took two steps when both were completely naked and brought her once more into his arms, and pressed his lips again to hers. He lifted her, burying his face into her magnificent breasts as he carried her bodily to the edge of the massive four-post bed, onto which they both fell in a heap of limbs and warm flesh.

Adam suckled on her breasts, tonguing around the pink aureole and shriveled nipple, and Holli gripped his head in her hands again to hold it firmly against her chest. She moaned happily and cried, "Fuck me, Adam, please. I want it now!"

"Sorry, love," he replied, grinning, as he pushed her back onto the bed. "Turnabout is fair play."

And with that, he slipped down and buried his head between her legs. He wasted no time with gentility; it was his mission to make her cum hard and fast, just as she had done to him, and to fuck her brains out as she had requested over dinner.

Her pussy was neatly trimmed and tasted wonderful, and as his tongue assaulted the sensitive hub of her clitoris by turns fast and slow, his fingers went exploring across all the hidden nooks and crannies along the rest of her body, caressing and squeezing softly. The barrage did exactly what it was supposed to: in short order, Holli squealed and dumped a gallon of her sweet nectar onto Adam's face as her thighs clamped down upon his head.

And then she was tugging at his hair, begging for him to come up to her, and he stretched himself out over her body, his weight supported on his elbows, his hips resting on her supple thighs, the taut nipples of her breasts grazing his chest.

She kissed him, tilting her head up to his, and her hand slid between them and wrapped around his hard shaft, and guided it forward to the slick and swollen entrance at which his tongue had so recently been. She shuddered then and her head dropped back to the mattress, and she said, breathlessly, a benediction, "I'm yours."




The Healing of Adam Cross Pt. 02



Adam pushed forward and sank his cock for the second time into the warm folds of beautiful Holli Coverton, part-time exotic dancer and bisexual sex kitten extraordinaire.

"Oh my . . ." she moaned, and he kissed her gently on the cheek as they lay there for a long moment, relishing the feeling and gentle palpitations of their union.

And then the muscles of her pussy twitched and Adam gasped, and suddenly they were moving frantically against one another.

He thrust into her, burying himself fully again and again, withdrawing until just the tip remained before plunging forward, his hips pounding into hers so violently that her body flopped around beneath him almost like a rag doll. Holli held on for dear life, her fingers clutching his ass, breasts jiggling lewdly, blue eyes bright and wanton, whimpering with pleasure.

"Fuck me . . . fuck me . . . fuck me . . .FUCK ME . . . FUCK ME!" she wailed, urging him on with her dirty words. "Harder . . . fuck me . . . HARDER!"

And so it went, faster and faster, harder and harder, with Holli screaming and Adam moaning, and the intensity of their coupling growing by leaps and bounds. Her hands rose to his thick biceps, holding there as her legs wrapped around his waist, feet crossed at the small of his back.

He ground his hips against her pelvis, working hard to take her over the edge—as much preservation as it was unselfishness, for he was uncertain how long he could maintain himself with such a gorgeous creature beneath him.

Which is why he was relieved to hear Holli gasp and then cry out again, back arched, breasts squished into his own chest as she crested over into orgasm, and so he erupted for the second time, this time into a place warmer and wetter than even her mouth. The river of cum flowed from his balls up through his shaft and out into her willing body, filling her womb with his seed.

Holli melted down into the mattress, breathing heavily, eyes closed, luxuriating in the post-orgasmic glow. Adam collapsed next to her, his cock slipping from the sweetness of her interiors, his arm draped across her body just below her breasts, and her fingers stroked it absently.

"Wow," she whispered. "That was wonderful. I've forgotten just how manic good cock can be."

"Just wait until we take our time," he said as he snuggled closer to her. "That's when it gets really interesting."

Holli sighed. "I can't wait," she admitted, and closed her eyes to sleep.

Adam closed his eyes, too, and drifted off to join her.

* * *

When Adam was asleep, she rose from the bed carefully and quietly and went out into the main room of her apartment, where Tiffany McCullough was waiting. The woman was flushed and a slight sheen covered the skin of her face.

"That was amazing," she said huskily as Holli entered.

"You watched the whole thing?" Holli asked.

Tiffany nodded. "From the door," she replied. "Oh, so intense. He looks good in bed."

Holli nodded vehemently. "He is," she insisted. "And he eats pussy like a woman."

Tiffany grinned devilishly. "Really?"

"Are you sure this is what you want to do?" Holli asked.

Tiffany nodded again. "I am sure. Are you sure you want to help? If it goes badly, he might not be available to you anymore."

Holli smiled softly. "This is a good man. With him, nothing goes badly."

"Very well," Tiffany said. "Let's get ready."

* * *

Adam knew something was different before he opened his eyes.

He was still on the bed at Holli's place, but something was changed, and when he opened his eyes he came to learn exactly what that something was: he was tied to the bed by silk sashes binding his hands and feet, naked and completely spread-eagled. He sighed, contemplating again how heavy a sleeper he was, particularly after sex; indeed, it had always amused Jocelyn.

"Holli?" he called out into the dimly lit room, not worried so much as curious.

"I'm here, Adam," a voice said from the side of the bed, and suddenly Holli was next to him, planting soft little kisses to the side of his face. "I have a surprise for you."

"Ok," he said, and decided then and there to go with whatever it was she had planned.

She reached under the pillow and pulled out a black mask, the kind of mask they give you on airplanes to shut out the light, which she slipped over his head and fastened over his eyes, blindfolding him. His senses heightened immediately and his skin felt alive, almost like a light breeze had swept over it. It was an interesting sensation, and not unwelcomed.

Holli's lips pressed softly into his and she kissed him lovingly, far more lovingly than anything she had done thus far. Then she asked with her face just inches from his, her breath hot and moist against the skin of his face, "Are you ready?"

And Adam, excited and still curious, answered, "Yes."

He could feel her shifting around on the bed, felt her come over the top of him, and soon a sweet honeyed aroma was tickling his nose—her lovely scent—followed by the arousing feel of her luscious nether region as it descended upon his mouth. Adam tilted his head forward and buried his tongue between her swollen pussy lips, swirling it around the crevice and over her clit.

Holli moaned and leaned forward, her breasts rubbing up against his stomach as she wrapped her fingers lightly around his cock, opened her mouth and took the mushroom head inside. She suckled him gently, like a little girl suckling a tootsie pop.   

Adam went wild, licking and sucking with reckless abandon as Holli ground her pussy back into his face. It was difficult to breathe, but he did not care; he cared about making her come hard and fast and good.

Which Holli did; the invigorating nature of the debauchery to come, mixed with the incredible oral talents of the man lapping at her pussy, swiftly did her in. Fire coursed through her veins and tickled every last nerve ending in her body, and she moaned around the cock filling her mouth.

She felt herself tremble violently as climax surged through her.

* * *

Tiffany McCullough emerged from her hiding place in the closet and watched the two writhing bodies on the bed.

She was more excited to fuck Adam Cross than she could ever remember being about a man before: he was extremely hot and extremely good in bed from what both Jocelyn and Holli had told her, not to mention he was a renewed connection to her deceased friend that she had been desperately needing since Jocelyn died.

Adam lay on the bed, eyes covered with limbs restrained, his mouth and tongue working Holli's pussy at what looked to be a frenzied pace. Beautiful Holli, meanwhile, had her mouth stuffed full of Adam's seven-inch meat—and looked to be loving it.   

Tiffany herself was already naked, having disrobed in the closet, and her fingers drifted south to her own waxed and hairless pussy. She stroked herself gently, quietly.

When Holli's orgasm receded, she slipped from her position on the bed to stand next to it, and beckoned Tiffany over. Adam licked his lips and turned his head from side to side, listening intently, wondering where Holli was and what she was doing.

Holli leaned down and whispered huskily in his ear, loud enough so Tiffany could hear, "Would you like to fuck me now, Adam? Would you like to fuck my tight little pussy?"

Adam grinned, the juice covering his chin glistening in the dim light. "Come and find out," he replied in a deep, lust-filled voice.

Holli turned and her eyes widened when she saw that Tiffany had closed the distance between them, and those stunning blue eyes slowly rolled up and down her naked body. Holli was quite proudly bisexual with a preference for females (which meant for her to choose to be with Adam was a ringing endorsement for the man) and Tiffany knew Holli was checking her out. That was, she decided, a welcome side effect of her plan that she had not really considered. She would explore that avenue later; there were other fish to fry at the moment.

Tiffany moved forward, breasts jiggling, and climbed onto the bed to straddle the boyfriend of her deceased best friend. She leaned forward, brushing those jiggly tits against his face, and Adam's tongue lashed out to taste them whenever he could, whenever they were close enough.

Her hands trailed gingerly down the muscles of his chest and abdomen, pushing, tickling, testing; she love the feel of him and could easily see why Holli was so enamored. She reached back, running a finger down his side and over his thigh, and wrapped her hand around his thick cock.

Her eyes fluttered shut as she felt it pulse in her hands; it was the first cock other than Trent's she had had in a long time, and it felt glorious. Monogamy, she realized then and there, was over.

She scooted back and arched herself, sticking her ass out as she guided the engorged head right up to the sopping wet folds of her pussy. There she hovered, rubbing the tip of his cock against herself as if it were a sex toy, flicking it against her clitoris, teasing herself and him mercilessly.

"Please," he begged after several minutes of her torture, "fuck me."

Tiffany turned to Holli and grinned, and brought once more his cock to the entrance to her pussy, only this time she did not stop there. Inch by agonizing inch, Tiffany lowered herself onto Adam's penis, embedding his meat inside her until she settled her ass on his hips, the whole of his shaft sheathed within.

She sighed deeply, filled to the brim.

And then she started to move. Tiffany was no slouch herself in the sex department, skilled and very experienced, and soon she found the right rhythm and was riding him with a smooth and sensual motion, rocking her hips back and forth and grinding them in little circles to give both her and her lover maximum pleasure.

 Adam was a big one, which made things much easier and better for her, granting her lots of leeway in her movements without fear of falling off. She moaned as she changed her angle and her clit was caught against his shaft, and from that position she slid up and down, up and down, impaling herself again and again.

His wrists tugged against his restraints; she could tell how desperately he wanted to touch her, but this was her game and he would remain tied down for the time being.

Tiffany brought one of her hands up to squeeze her tits and her eyes fluttered shut, which is one reason she was incredibly surprised to feel someone's hand touching her clit. Her eyes flew open and she looked down to find Holli's fingers rubbing her between her legs.

At first, the shock of being touched when she had not expected it almost threw her off her rhythm. Beyond that initial surprise, however, the intense pleasure she suddenly felt did more to disrupt her than anything. Her eyes fluttered shut and she focused solely on fucking the man between her legs, the man's whose cock was deep within her, and let Holli take over the task of her own pleasure.

Tiffany picked up the pace and fought hard to stifle her squeals; she was a very vocal lover and the silence was difficult to maintain. She lifted herself and crashed back down, the thick cock nearly splitting her in two, as Adam began to moan loudly. He thrust his hips upward into her, slamming their bodies together to work himself ever deeper. She knew he was getting close. Tiffany matched her rhythm to his, bouncing up and down on his shaft, breathing heavily and whimpering softly.

And then Adam cried, "Fuck! Here it comes!"

And as his cock erupted inside her, Tiffany came, too, spiraling down into the swirling seas of orgasm with one of the powerful climaxes of her life, made only more so by the feel of Adam's cum spurting into her womanly chambers.

She sagged back and his cock popped from her pussy. She spent several seconds breathing heavily, regaining her strength, before she slithered down his body and bent forward to lap at his withering cock. She could taste herself on him, as well as the salty tang of his cum, and grinned up at Holli who was hovering over her.

Holli bent forward then and Tiffany drew back to let the other woman's mouth worship the man's cock for a bit. She was amazed to watch it come back to life once again.

Holli grinned and asked, "Ready for more already?"

And then Adam said with a grin, "Sure, I can't satisfy two women with just one round of fucking, can I?"

And so the jig was up, and Holli swatted him playfully on the leg. "How did you know there were two of us?"

The grin of the man never faltered. "Every woman smells different, tastes different, and feels different, my sweet Holli. Am I to meet Michelle, then?"

And so Tiffany made her choice. "Not exactly," she said aloud.

Adam frowned and was silent a long moment, and then said, "I know that voice. I do not know Michelle. Might I have the courtesy of the name of the woman I just fucked?"

"My name, Adam," Tiffany said in a husky voice, coming very close to him, "is Tiffany."

* * *

Adam did not move for a long moment after the woman said her name. He was not smiling, but nor was his expression unhappy in any way; the wheels of his mind were turning, however, and he was lost deep in thought.

Tiffany, she said her name was, which meant it could only be one person: Tiffany McCullough, close friend of Jocelyn and Trent McCullough's wife.

"Holli, please remove my blindfold," he said, and again his voice was neither happy nor upset.

After his eyes adjusted to the light again, he saw that Holli was seated next to him on the bed, looking down at him with wondering eyes. It was not difficult to make out the concern; he smiled reassuringly at her, and she smiled back, obviously relieved.

Then he turned to face Tiffany, who was standing at the edge of the bed with her hands on her hips. She was naked and gorgeous, and he could not help but drink in the sight of her. All of Jocelyn's friends were beautiful, as Jocelyn herself had been; Tiffany was the first of them Adam had seen nude. She was smiling lazily at him, face flushed; the effects of her orgasm, which had been supplied via his cock.

"How?" he asked simply, and they explained. It was quite simple, it seemed: the two were good friends from work and had happened upon the knowledge of his and Holli's sexual relationship by merest chance that very morning at the office.

Which led to the next question. "Why?" Adam asked, and for this, the answer was not so simple.

Tiffany replied, "Because Holli explained to me exactly what you found the morning after you made love, exactly what the scene was in the main room of the suite. Trent was not faithful, and I doubt it was the first time. Do you deny it?" Adam did not. "It is probably you know of more than just the women he fucked last weekend. Do you?"

Adam was no liar and Trent was already screwed, but neither was he comfortable spilling the secrets of another man. "That is not a question one man can answer about another man," he responded, and Tiffany nodded acceptingly.

"Well, you don't have to. He's wonderful in many ways; fidelity, it seems, is not one of them. I do not want to leave him, however, nor divorce him, for many reasons not the least of which is love. I do, however, want to settle the score. I want to experience the pleasures others have to offer."

Adam nodded. It was not his place to comment and the woman seemed to be on a roll.

"However," she continued, "I am not some little slut willing to fuck any man that comes along. I am quite selective. In fact, there is only one man I want to fuck, and often, to get back at Trent and have a little fun myself."

Adam suddenly felt very uncomfortable.

"That man," she said, moving close to him, so close her shoulder was touching Holli's and her warm breath tickled his face, "is you, Adam."

"Unknowing is one thing," he replied. "Approval is another."

Tiffany smiled and stroked his hair. "There are others reasons to be with you, Adam," she said, "instead of other men. You know my situation and will not look for more than sex; there will be no romantic entanglements. Also, you would rather you be the one to fuck me than have me go out looking for other, less savory men, which is what I will have to do if you spurn me; the gentleman in you will not allow that to happen. And lastly . . ."

Adam watched Tiffany's eyes go distant and wondered what the last reason was, as it was obviously the most important just based upon her expression. And what it was floored him completely.

She looked at him and lay a gentle hand on his chest. "Being with you, Adam," she said softly, almost lovingly, "will help keep me close to Jocelyn, whom I loved with all my heart, and who loved you with all her heart. Being with you is my way of remembering her."

He thought about that for a long moment and when he finally did speak, his voice nearly caught in his throat. "Those seem to be excellent reasons, Tiffany," he replied softly, "but still I cannot willingly be with another man's wife."

Tiffany smiled sweetly. "Which is why we all think so highly of you, Adam," she said as she rose to her feet. "But I have a feeling—deep down here in the heart of me, a place very close to where my memories of Jocelyn are—that you might reconsider. Thank you for a wonderful orgasm, one of my best ever, and for listening."

And with that she was gone, and Holli, sensing his tension and sudden melancholy, undid the bindings that held him and snuggled into his arms, and gently set about stroking his chest with her fingers, softly and sweetly, and very soothing, which was very appreciated.

He was, at that moment, very happy to have her with him.

Chapter 04: Decisions, Decisions 

The words of Tiffany McCullough rattled around Adam's head incessantly for days, just as she had predicted they would.

It was quite obvious she was very much determined to seek pleasure beyond her marital bed, and knowing Trent and his many conquests, he certainly could not blame her. Adam did not want her out prowling the bar circuit looking for men; that was a dangerous game for a woman to play when sex was the only thing on her mind. She was stunningly beautiful and he had no problem with the idea of being her sexual plaything; he also liked the idea of being intimate with one of Jocelyn's oldest friends, sharing their love for her together.

Which meant the only thing holding him back was his sense of honor: he could not get past the idea of sleeping with another man's wife.

He happened upon the solution quite suddenly—and totally out of the blue—and so he picked up the phone and set about resolving the issue, which is how he came to find himself at a little dive bar in downtown Los Angeles on Thursday afternoon, sitting at a table with Trent McCullough, Dave Cartwright, and Benjamin Lane.

It was under the auspices of gratitude for an enjoyable weekend in Vegas, and so it was not until after much regaling regarding the events of the bachelor party, further lurid details of which were revealed—more than he ever wanted to know, such as Kara's triple penetration in the early hours of the morning—that Adam successfully changed the course of their conversation.

"I have a question for you guys," he said thoughtfully. "A moral quandary, if you will."

Trent grinned deviously. "Ah, yes! We love the moral quandaries around here, eh, Dave?"

Dave chuckled. "You know it," he replied. "Morality is my specialty, Monsieur Cross."

"What's the story?" Ben asked.

Adam put forth his best sheepish smile. "The wife of a friend wants to have sex with me," he revealed. "She's told me this herself. She knows he's been cheating on her and wants to get even, but doesn't want to find some random guy. She wants me, and it sounds like she wants me a lot."

Trent slapped Adam on the back. "Congratulations!" he said. "Hot married women always make the best fuck buddies."




The Healing of Adam Cross Pt. 02



"Her husband is a friend of mine," Adam began, but Dave cut him off.

"So?" he asked. "Your friend should thank you for helping his bitch out, you know? Keeping her away from other guys who might try to fuck up the marriage."

Adam thought for a moment. "So you'd do it. You would fuck your friend's wife?"

"Fuck yeah!" Dave said. "Look, if Trent's bitch came to me and wanted to fuck, I'd do it. If my fucking wife went to Trent, I know he'd fuck her."

"Kelsey?" Trent nodded enthusiastically. "Bitch is hot. I'd fuck her in a heartbeat."

Adam was amazed. "You guys would fuck each others' wives?"

Trent grinned again. "Fuck yeah, if they came looking for it."

Dave continued, "A man needs to know how to keep his bitch in line."

"In line," Trent echoed.

"If he can't," Dave said, "he deserves to have some other guy planting his flag. Especially his best friend."

Adam turned to Ben, who had been at one time a decent guy, before his association with Trent and Dave changed him. Ben was grinning. He said, "Fuck the bitch . . . and then tell us everything."

Adam shook his head. "You guys definitely have a different perspective than most."

Dave grinned devilishly. "You know it."

* * *

"They. Did. What?"

The voice of Kelsey Cartwright was cold and hard, each word shot from her mouth like a bullet from a gun. She was a beautiful woman in her late twenties with long red hair and light bronze skin, a rare combination, and expressive light brown eyes—which were narrowed chillingly and flashing like the blade of a dagger in the midday sun.

Sitting to Kelsey's left at their four-person table was Heather James, twenty-five, with shoulder-length blonde hair and deep blue eyes, which were also narrowed and staring with great interest and intensity at the person to her left, Tiffany McCullough. It was early Thursday evening and the girls had gotten together to gossip and chat over dinner and drinks at a nice little spot in Santa Monica called the Apple Dish.

Tiffany had just begun telling the girls—with Josie Haynes, she of long blonde hair and stunning grass-green eyes, the fourth member of their group and its youngest at twenty-four—of the events of the bachelor party weekend, having taken much information from Holli, as well as information received from the two other strippers, Mandy and Kara, whom Holli had called.

"Our men fucked two strippers silly while they were in Vegas," Tiffany repeated in a cheerful tone, as if what she had said was the most light-hearted thing in the world.

The rest of the table was silent, until Josie, the only one of their party without a vested interest in the information, said, "You sound rather happy about it, Tiff."

Tiffany grinned. "I am," she said simply.

Kelsey and Heather looked at each other with incredulous expressions. "You're happy about the fact that Trent fucked some skanky stripper?" Heather asked, surprise evident in her voice.

"He fucked not just one stripper, but two," Tiffany replied as she bit from a piece of her bread. "And yes, I am."

"Let's come back to that bit of lunacy in a minute," Kelsey said with a dismissive wave. "How do you know they did it?"

Tiffany shrugged. "Holli told me," she replied.

"Holli?" Kelsey was silent a long moment before she realized what had happened. "The woman from your work. The stripper. She was there. Did they fuck her?"

"No, no, no," Tiffany replied. "They fucked two sluts new to the business. But Holli was there, she worked the party, and she knows exactly what happened. She called the other two girls to find out some of the more sordid details."

"Ben, too?" Heather asked, with hope in her voice that her fiancé was not involved.

"Sorry, sweetie," Tiffany said, and her voice was soft for the first time. "Ben, too."

"What about Adam?" Josie asked in a curious voice. "Wasn't he there, too?"

Tiffany smiled. "Adam got lucky this weekend, but he did not fuck either of those two little whores. He was so cute and so sweet and so gentlemanly to Holli, she broke one of her cardinal rules and stayed to talk to him after her escort left. And then she broke her other cardinal rule and fucked his brains out."

Kelsey frowned. "Wait, isn't she a lesbian?"

Tiffany giggled. "Technically she's bisexual, but she had not been with a man in more than two years. She's in a committed relationship with another woman and very happy, but she was so touched by Adam and his story about Jocelyn that she desperately wanted to have some of his cock. So she called Michelle, her lover, and got the approval."

"Why are you so happy about all of this?" Kelsey demanded. "Why are you so goddamn cheerful?"

"I got fucked real good last night," Tiffany admitted.

Kelsey sat up in her chair. "You fucked Trent, knowing he'd cheated on you?"

Tiffany leveled her friend with a very serious stare. "I didn't say I fucked Trent," she told them, and in that moment all three girls were suddenly on the edge of their seats.

"You fucked another man?" Heather whispered. "Who?"

And so Tiffany responded. "That question must follow the first question," she said, "which is WHY I fucked another man. And the answer to that is simple."

"Tell us," Josie demanded, riveted.

Tiffany smiled. "It does not surprise me that Trent cheated, nor does it surprise me that Dave and Ben cheated. The three of them are like peas in a pod. Machismo is everything. I do not want to leave Trent, but nor can I let things stand as they are. So I see this as a golden opportunity to spread my sexual wings and experience more than just my husband has to offer. I see this as an invitation to fuck another man without any feelings of guilt."

Kelsey was letting the idea wash over her. "An interesting concept," she admitted. "And you put it to work last night, obviously."

Tiffany sighed and leaned back in her chair, very satisfied. "I did," she admitted, "and it was incredible. It felt so good to have another cock in me again, you can't imagine."

"Oh, I think I can," Heather said as her eyes fluttered shut. Her imagination was quite obviously in overdrive. "How did you find the guy?"

"I didn't have to look very far," Tiffany said, and suddenly her voice was very low. "I fucked Adam."

Kelsey, Heather, and Josie all let out a collective gasp, but it was Josie who spoke first. "Adam? He would never do something like that!"

"He didn't!" Tiffany said excitedly. "It's a great story actually. Holli helped me out. She invited Adam over to her place, they had dinner, and she fucked him again. I watched the whole thing and it was the hottest thing I've ever seen. I was so fucking horny! When Adam was asleep, Holli and I tied him spread-eagle to the bed—remember how Jocelyn always laughed about how hard he slept after sex—and when he woke up, Holli blindfolded him. She fooled around with him for a bit before I left my hiding place, straddled him, and rode him like there was no tomorrow. I gotta tell you, between what Holli has told me, what I remember Jocelyn telling me, and the amazing feel of that man's cock between my legs, Adam Cross might just be one of the best ever in that department."

"That's devious, Tiffany," Josie said in a scolding tone, but with a big smile on her face.

"I love it," Kelsey admitted.

"Did Adam find out?" Heather asked.

Tiffany nodded. "He knew it wasn't Holli fucking him. He could tell! He actually said he knew because every woman feels different, or something like that. And so we pulled the blindfold off and showed him who it was."

"What did he say?" Kelsey asked, very much intrigued.

"He wasn't upset, not really. I mean, it's not like he could've done something and it's not like he knew ahead of time it was me. He thought it was Michelle, Holli's partner. He was concerned, though, and asked me why."

At which point Tiffany proceeded to tell her friends exactly what she had told Adam about her reasoning and what she wanted from him, and exactly what he had said in response. And when she was done with the story, she leaned back and watched the wheels of her friends' minds turning madly.

"What do you think he will say?" Josie asked breathlessly, a slight flush on her cheeks. "Do you think he'll fuck you again?"

Tiffany shrugged. "I don't know, but I hope so."

"Do you think he'll fuck me?" Kelsey asked in a low and lusty voice.

And Tiffany grinned. "I had a feeling you might ask that."

* * *

It was Friday, six days after his extraordinary Saturday night in Vegas and four days from the night of his sexual encounter with Holli and Tiffany, and Adam still had no idea what to do.

Having already consulted Trent, Dave, and Ben, all of whom in essence without knowing so gave him the green light to fuck their wives, there were only two people left he trusted enough to seek guidance from.

The first of those was Jocelyn herself, which is how Adam found himself early that afternoon seated on the green, green grass of the cemetery, next to her grave. The stone at the head read, Jocelyn Barnes, Beloved Daughter and Sister, and Loving Friend. It was enough for Adam to sit there in silence for long minutes before saying what he wanted to say, which was to tell her he still loved her and missed her, and would always love and miss her no matter the circumstance, and also to ask her to send him a sign on his issue with Tiffany McCullough, one of Jocelyn's oldest and dearest friends.

"Any kind of sign will do, love," he whispered softly, passing a hand across his misty eyes. "There are too many layers in this to work through myself. I miss you."

He drove straightaway from the cemetery the two hours necessary to take him to the University of California, Santa Barbara, where Jocelyn's younger sister, Jessica Barnes, was currently a senior. Jessica was a smart, beautiful, and compassionate young woman, very much like Jocelyn herself had been, and the two sisters had been very close. Adam and Jessica had always been very good friends, but had not had much contact since her passing; remembrance brought too much pain.

And yet now, Adam very much needed the counsel of a trusted female friend, which brought him to the door of her apartment. He knocked and waited with anxious anticipation, wondering what she would think and say.

The light through the peephole winked out and a muffled voice on the other side of the door called, "Who is it?"

"It's Adam," he said simply.

The door opened and Jessica asked hesitantly, "Adam?" Several silent moments passed without an expression or reaction of any kind from her, and he wondered with a flash of concern if the girl was going to cry. She did not, however; in fact, quite the opposite happened.

Her beautiful young face, wholesome and innocent, broke into a wide grin as she stepped forward to embrace him. Her scent overtook him; she smelled just like Jocelyn used to, which was unexpected. But the moment passed and he hugged her back with a smile of his own, and he realized that they had finally moved past their need for solidarity.

"Jessica," he said softly, "it is so good to see you."

She pulled away. "It's good to be seen," she replied with a hint of her usual sass. "Come inside. We've got so much to catch up on."

Which is why, nearly an hour later, they had been talking non-stop and yet Adam still had not broached the subject which brought him to her in the first place. He did not mind, however; they both realized how much they meant to each other, both as friends and as connections to the lost loved one they shared.

Adam learned the beautiful blonde with the dark blue eyes that reminded him so very much of Jocelyn was doing very well in school, had earned herself the captainship of the women's volleyball team for her senior season—she was on scholarship and quite the athlete—and was dating a member of the UCSB baseball team.

But eventually the conversation wound down and Adam saw fit to tell her, in great detail, of his problem. He left nothing out: the bachelor party, the night with Holli, the aftermath, the cheating of the other men, the bait-and-switch by Holli and Tiffany, her subsequent offer, his conversation with the husbands, and finally his time spent with Jocelyn.

She asked simple questions here or there, but otherwise remained silent throughout, taking and considering everything he said, and at the end of the story she was silent longer still, thoughtful as ever as she studied him, until finally she said, "I think you should do it, Adam."

Which surprised him greatly. "Do what?"

"Pleasure them, silly," she said with a girlish giggle, showing a little of what the average twenty-two year-old was like. But Jessica was no average college co-ed and her next statement cut to the core of him. "Jocelyn would tell you do it. She would rather it be you than some other man. We shared everything, she and I, so I know how deeply she loved you, Adam, and I also know how her mind worked, perhaps better than anyone. She would want this to happen. She would tell you to do it."

"What makes you so sure?" he asked quietly.

Jessica smiled. "There are six people Jocelyn cared about more than any others in the whole of the world. You and me, and her four friends. The more happiness we derive from each other the happier she will be from her place in the heavens."

"So you're saying I should sleep with Tiffany?"

Jessica giggled again. "I have a feeling there may be more than just that in store, Adam."

"What do you mean?"

"Jocelyn, Tiffany, Kelsey, Heather, Josie. The five of them shared everything, everything and anything. There was nothing unknown to the group. I can guarantee Kelsey and Heather know of their husbands' infidelity; it is logical to assume they also know the story of how Tiffany fucked you. They may come looking for their own little piece of the pie, especially if Tiffany explained her reasoning, which I guarantee she did."

Adam was dumbfounded.

"I'm not saying it will happen for sure," Jessica continued, "but it is certainly a possibility. Every woman is different, but those four are more alike than most. And one thing they all share, Jocelyn included as you well know, is a strong sexual appetite. That much I know from experience."

Adam was still not sure. "Is it not an unethical thing to do, though?"

The blonde girl shrugged. "In the eyes of some, maybe. Certainly not in the eyes of the husbands. And not in my eyes, nor in Jocelyn's. Which is, I suppose, what you really came here to find out."

And so they talked for a few more minutes after she said that, both knowing their night was drawing to a close, and then she rose and walked him to the door, and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek before saying, "You were an important part of my sister's life, Adam. Please be an important part of my life. Don't be a stranger, okay?"

And Adam smiled and said, "Okay, Jess," and kissed her back, and right around seven o'clock, headed down to his car for the drive home.

* * *

Tiffany and Trent were "dining out" people, which basically meant that they were exceedingly wealthy, that she could not cook, and that they had not yet discovered the pleasure and convenience of a personal chef for the home. On this night of nights, a Friday as it happened to be, their restaurant of choice was some fine little Italian place of his choosing in Century City.

"I never got to ask you how your trip was," Tiffany said finally as the salads arrived.

Trent shrugged. "Good times," he replied. "Can't go wrong with Vegas, you know."

"What did you guys do?" she asked sweetly, betraying none of her knowledge of the subject.

Another shrug, very non-committal. "Drank. Partied. Gambled. You know, guy stuff."

Tiffany tried to recall all the times Trent had returned from work or trips and been vague about his activities, and the answer was easily more times than she could count. She was about to ask another question when his cell phone rang.

"Sorry, sweets," he said, glancing down. "Gotta take this one. Might be a minute."

"I'm going to the little ladies room," Tiffany said. For all his charms and his sexual abilities, the man could often times be a complete ass.

The restaurant's ladies room was a definite plus: ultra-clean and ultra-nice with marble tiling, ornate fixtures, couches for lounging, and large individual sound-proof compartments where the toilets were. It was very impressive and immediately thrust the restaurant high up Tiffany's list.

She had only just been able to take the whole of the place in when she heard the door open behind her and she felt strong hands take hold of her, forcing her into one of the compartments. Fear overtook her and a rough hand over her mouth stifled her ability to scream, but when those rough hands spun her around to face her tormentor, she was suddenly very glad she had not.

The face of Adam Cross was inches away from her own, dark eyes blazing with an intensity that she had not seen in him before. Without warning, the strong hands holding her shoulders drew her to him and mashed his lips against hers; she was stunned and her legs nearly buckled as she swooned from the heat of the kiss, her first kiss with another man since meeting her husband.

And then they broke apart, and Tiffany realized how heavily she was breathing, and also how wet she was between her legs.

"I accept," he said huskily. "Are you ready?"

"Here?" Uncertainty washed over her. Her husband was outside.

His eyes eviscerated her. "I am going to fuck you," he said, "and I am going to fuck you HARD."

Her eyes widened but she did not speak; she was, in truth, more turned on than she had been in a long, long time. He converged on her, taking her silence as affirmation, and his arms wrapped around her and drew her tightly against him as his mouth closed over hers again. Her luscious red lips parted and allowed his tongue to sweep inside, to taste and be tasted, and explore. After a long moment they broke to catch their breaths again, and as they did so Tiffany gazed deeply—and for the first real time—into the man's eyes.

She had little time to revel in the lusty, smoldering fire she found there, however; he came upon her again and her thoughts dissolved into the warmth of his mouth as his wet tongue slipped in and curled around hers.

A moan escaped her lips as his strong hands groped at her body, strong and rough, and yet somehow maintaining an obvious gentility. He pressed against her body, grinding himself upon her, and as his hardening cock jutted into her thighs, the sensations nearly overwhelmed her.

Adam's hands gripped her thighs and paused a moment, before they began to languorously slide up the sides of Tiffany's lithe body. They glided over the expensively smooth material of her expensive evening dress, over the rounded curves of her hips and down into the gully of her tiny waist, before fanning out over her ribcage to close over the warm mountains of her breasts. Her nipples hardened as he touched her, and she could feel the liquid flowing from her pussy begin to overwhelm her silk panties and seep out onto the bare skin of her legs.

She growled and found her aggression again, never long misplaced, and lashed out to capture his lips in hers, needing to taste him, to probe every inch of his mouth. His hands continued to fondle her breasts, groping them roughly, all tenderness vanished.

They were now only slaves to their lust. She crumbled into the sexual being she so desperately loved becoming; she was an animal and thrilled by Adam like nothing ever had thrilled her before. She arched her back, pushing her ample bosom farther into his massaging palms.

Removing his lips from hers, he lapped at her cheeks and neck with quick butterfly strokes, mixing in little kisses and nibbles on her flesh. His nimble fingers darted up and deftly flicked the spaghetti straps from her shoulders, just far enough that her breasts tumbled free and into his awaiting hands. The firm melons plopped into his palms and his fingers immediately grazed over the tiny pink nipples. She shivered and whimpered, and her hands gripped his head.




The Healing of Adam Cross Pt. 03



Author's Note: This story is an original work of fiction, the third in a series of stories expected to include several parts; it is recommended the reader first reads parts one and two. Future additional spin-off stories starring some or all of these characters might also be forthcoming based upon response and demand. Certain characters featured herein may also be found in other works by the authors. Feedback is desired and greatly appreciated. Email comments to the address in our profile. Thank you for reading.

Copyright 2011 by Jack and Josephine Cutter.

This story stars: Adam Cross, Holli Coverton, Michelle Johnson, and Kelsey Cartwright, and features Tiffany McCullough, Dave Cartwright, Benjamin Lane, Heather James, Lindy Mills, Eduardo Moreno, Jessica Barnes, Tim Simmons, and Josie Haynes.

This story contains: male-female erotic coupling, male-female-female erotic coupling, cunnilingus and fellatio, anal and analingus, threesomes, closet masturbation, heroic flashbacks, sex addicts, teenage eavesdropping, jealous boyfriends, and a dream sequence.

This story begins post-prologue on Saturday, October 08.

*   *   *   *   *

The night they first met, she dismissed his advances. She was tired of men—stupid boys, as she called them—and the complications engendered thereby.

It was fortunate circumstance what brought them together in the first place, as many of these things usually are: a Lakers game, two unrelated pairs of tickets, four seats in a row, Jocelyn and her sister, Adam and an old friend named Ricky, and Jocelyn and Adam seated by merest chance in the two middle seats, next to each other. He was so struck at first sight by her beauty, he said nothing to her for the entire first quarter, and did not even look at her beyond that obligatory greeting smile when she first arrived.

He tried some small talk in the second quarter, having built up his nerve and having been encouraged by Ricky—who was quite comfortable with the ladies and had a girlfriend of his own at the time—but was rebuffed, politely, each try. At halftime, he offered to bring both Jocelyn and Jessica back drinks, a simple offer, no pressure, and while Jessica was clearly happy about the idea, Jocelyn said, politely, "No, thank you."

In the third quarter, he casually mentioned a play from the game, an exciting dunk, and left the statement hanging in hopes that she might respond, but no response came and the silence was deafening. When the fourth quarter rolled around, Adam had pretty much given up hope. The Lakers were up by twenty and the game was not very exciting, and Ricky was still grinning at his failed attempts, and so he threw caution to the wind and said, "I'm sorry for bothering you all night. It's not every day a man sits next to a beautiful woman. It tends to make fools of us."

Jocelyn did not respond right away—in fact, she hardly looked at him—but from the other side of her, Jessica giggled. Adam remembered that sound, half-sympathy, half-amusement, and he always wondered if, because of that one laugh, Jocelyn had felt a little sorry for him. She turned, their eyes met, and she opened her mouth to speak.

The rest was history.

Chapter 05: Ten-Forty-Two

There are some men who know what they want and know how to get it; Dave Cartwright was just such a man. He was thirty-one years old, successful and handsome, with more money than he knew what to do with, which meant that, in addition to knowing what and how, he had the resources—and ambitions—to accomplish his pursuits.

He did have some positive traits. He gave generously to charities and held the door open for old ladies. He always thanked his mailman or other hard-working service people and never swore in front of his mother. He escorted blind men across streets. He worked very hard at his job.

He was also selfish and self-serving, with a foul mouth in private company and little thought for concepts of morality—his notion of right versus wrong fell into what could only be considered a vast, amorphous gray area. For example, Dave was utterly unfaithful as a husband; he would not hesitate to commit adultery if the opportunity was there, nor flinch in the slightest if the woman he was sleeping with was married herself.

For all intents and purposes, what is important to know is that when it came to his sex life, Dave Cartwright would fuck any half-decent-looking woman he could find.

That said, Dave would nonetheless report that he was very happy with his relationship. He got along well with his wife after more than a year of marriage, although in truth it was easy to get along with someone who was calm, cool, and collected, not to mention adventurous and decidedly low-maintenance. She was also quite easy to deceive, perhaps because she was so independent herself, and much of his own happiness was derived from her obliviousness regarding his extra-curricular activities and the true conduct of his character. Lastly, she was devastatingly attractive—vital as far as Dave was concerned—and with her gorgeous face and mouth-watering body, his wife would have made one hell of a stripper. 

Dave would know: lap dances were one of his favorite hobbies.

His wife was not likely to take up that profession, however; Kelsey Cartwright used her physical charms to great effect as a residential real estate agent—between her excellent income and his own, they would never have to worry about money.

Dave was lounging around their expensive condo in Santa Monica, sprawled out on the couch watching college football highlights. It was a rare Saturday night with nothing to do, Kelsey was not home yet from a weekend house showing, and he was not very inventive when it came to entertaining himself, which meant Dave was bored.

Which is why he was happy when he heard the front door open and the voice of his wife echo over the hardwood floors. She was quite obviously on the phone, probably talking to one of her cluster of close friends.

"He did what!" Kelsey sounded excited and astounded, and her voice was breathless. "How? Where? Did anyone see you?"

"Hi, babe," Dave called out as she rounded the corner and her light brown eyes fell upon him. They narrowed and she did not respond, and her voice dropped to a whisper as she marched purposefully back into the bedroom.

Clearly, she was not happy with him—Kelsey was not the type to beat around that bush. He'd been out late the night before and had hardly seen her in two days, which probably had something to do with it, but it was nothing a few sweet nothings and a little make-up sex could not overcome. In fact, he thought, a good hard fuck would liven up the night nicely, and he still had plenty of juice despite getting a blowjob the night before, courtesy of some college slut.

When Kelsey returned a few moments later, Dave's excitement shot straight into the realm of significant lust: the beautiful woman was wore only her panties and bra, which put on prominent display her fantastic figure.

At twenty-eight, Kelsey was still as hot as she'd been at eighteen. Her lovely face was topped by dark red hair that fell about her head and shoulders, highlighted by those expressive light brown eyes. Her features were fine, her skin smooth and bronzed, and her teeth pearly white, but it was her body which set the woman apart from her competitors: her breasts were huge and round and real—32DD, as Dave knew and often revealed—her stomach was flat, her legs were long and lean, and her ass was a slice of apple-shaped perfection. 

And here Kelsey was on glorious display, her butt swishing back-and-forth as she walked past him and into the kitchen. Moments later, she returned with a bottled water and went back into the bedroom, which was her usual signal that she wanted sex. Dave knew her little signs; he was going to get lucky with his own personal pussy tonight. She was smoldering hot, and she was all his—he knew that no matter how egregious his own infidelities, as long as she remained ignorant she would never cheat herself, and it was nice, as he often said, to know that there was at least one hot pussy in the world reserved only for him.

He rose from the couch and went into the bedroom, but found that Kelsey had already gotten into the shower and was cleansing herself. "Want me to join you, babe?" he asked with a cheeky grin on his face as he poked his head into the bathroom.

"No," she replied, simply and without trace of emotion.

Dave frowned. He had expected her to say yes. "Ok, I'll just wait for you in the bedroom."

"You do that," she called.

Dave plopped down on the bed and waited, and ended up waiting for nearly thirty minutes. By the time she emerged from the bathroom, he was at the end of reading an entire Sports Illustrated magazine, and this from a guy who did not like to read.

The wait, however, was worth it.

Kelsey was completely naked. Her breasts jiggled as she walked, the pink of her nipples shriveled into little points and the soft swath of red hair between her legs neatly groomed. It was a marvelous sight to behold, and despite all the sex he got on the side, the sight of his wife's nude flesh never ceased to excite him.



Dave was now achingly hard, but he did not mind the pain, knowing it would soon be alleviated; Kelsey would only flaunt herself so when trying to turn him on. Despite the cold front she was putting up, she had to be horny.

She moved through the bedroom and into the closet, and closed the door behind her, which was strange. Dave figured, after a moment of contemplation, that she was going to surprise him with some hot little outfit or lingerie get-up, which she often liked to do.

And so he waited . . . and waited . . . and waited.

Fifteen minutes later, she still had not emerged from the closet. Dave was still semi-hard, but it had wilted considerably, and the excited grin had curved down into a frown. Then he heard the unmistakable sound of a female moan.

Dave rose, wondering just what the hell was happening, and moved to the closet door; so close, it was easy to hear the moans of his wife from within. He officially had no idea what was going on, and so he opened the door and looked inside.

What he saw both shocked and aroused him to great degree.

Kelsey was on the carpeted floor of the closet with a dildo shoved inside her pussy. She was on her knees with her ass was in the air, her shoulders down against the ground, one arm splayed off to the side while the other was curled up from between her legs, working the dildo in and out, deeper and deeper. A thin sheen of sweat covered her skin, her limbs trembled with pleasure, her brilliant red hair was pooled around her hair, her eyes were closed, and her mouth was open as she panted and moaned. Clearly, she was nearing orgasm.

"What the fuck?" Dave asked.

Kelsey opened her eyes and looked up at her husband, and said in a voice that wavered with the pleasure she was giving herself, but held beneath a fiercely rigid resolve, "Do you mind? I'm about to cum."

And so she did.

Her words trailed off into a wail as the orgasm crashed over her, her limbs quaking violently as her pussy twitched around the invasive plastic cylinder. The wails turned to whimpers and her airborne ass toppled over to the carpet as she pulled the saturated dildo past her pink folds.

Dave watched his wife creaming herself with an utterly flabbergasted look upon his face. If she had wanted to cum, why had she not just fucked him?

Kelsey opened her eyes again and saw him still standing there, watching her. "Do you mind?" she said in that same tone that balanced the edge of the knife so subtlety. "I'm trying to enjoy my afterglow."

And so Dave left and closed the door behind him—wondering all the while exactly what it was that she was mad at him about, because she had to be mad about something to be acting the way she was—and headed for the bathroom in search of a cold shower.

At that particular moment, there was nothing he needed more.

*  *  *

The manager of the Café Montenegro in Beverly Hills was a man named Eduardo Moreno, and he had managed of that establishment for more than twenty years. It was a glamorous and ritzy restaurant, well-decorated with deep, dark colors, and catered to a clientele that was famous and wealthy and powerful, and often times more things even than those. It was nearly impossible to get a reservation; tables were books weeks in advance. Wait times for those with reservations were known to exceed two hours. This was due in large part to the walk-in business of the famous, who were always granted tables immediately, and part of the layperson's experience at Café Montenegro was said layperson's close proximity to such people.

Which is why it came to no surprise on that particular Saturday night when a handsome young man with two beautiful young women draped on his arms walked with supreme confidence through the door, announced he did not have a reservation but was looking to be seated, and was taken instantly back by Eduardo himself to one of the more secluded booths.

An older man who had waited several weeks to bring his wife to the restaurant, as well as forty-five minutes past his intended reservation time—but who had now witnessed a handful of stars, starlets, and politicos breeze in and out of the place, and was incredibly happy for that reason—leaned over and whispered to his wife, "That person must be famous."

And as the party of three walked through the primary dining room, heads turned to watch them pass, even the heads of the famous and powerful, for it was not every day that Eduardo himself escorted parties back to their tables, which meant this particular man had to be a really big deal.

Which also explained why the women on his arms were insanely beautiful. On his right arm was a goddess, a statuesque beauty with flowing chestnut hair that fell in rivers over her shoulders and two blazingly bright blue eyes. She wore a form-fitting black dress cut low in a curve in the front and lower to a point in the back: ample amounts of cleavage were visible, as well as almost the entire sleek track of her spine. On his left arm was another gorgeous specimen of femininity, a little blonde bombshell in a pure white dress that left little to the imagination. Her blonde hair cascaded off her head like an explosion, her skin was golden brown, and her eyes were also big and bright and blue. While her breasts were not as large as her counterparts, they were huge for her petite size and looked like mountains rising from her chest. The white dress was short and barely covered her rump, which left her toned and tantalizing legs on excellent display.

Eduardo escorted the man and his guests back to the table that was reserved for only the highest of profile guests. It was a booth in one of the back corners of the restaurant with a curtain that closed to effectively shut out all possible viewing. He smiled as they walked; heads were watching their little procession with amazingly curious expressions. He wondered if they would be disappointed if they knew the truth.

And the truth of the matter was that the man Eduardo was escorting was not famous, nor wealthy, nor powerful. His name was Adam Cross and there were few beyond the circle of his friends who would know that name.

Eduardo, however, knew that name; it was the name of the man Eduardo had thanked and thanked and thanked again in his prayers every day for the past five years. He remembered the moment like yesterday . . .

. . . Sarah was a precocious young girl, always prone to getting herself into trouble, but her father loved her dearly. Her mother passed away eight years earlier—when Sarah was just five years old—but out of tragedy grew a deep bond between father and daughter; they were best friends.



Which is why when they were standing one day at the far end of the pier in Santa Monica and a mob of unruly young boys chasing each other around crashed into them, sending his beloved daughter Sarah hurtling over the side and into the churning waters below—on a day when there were tide warnings, heavy wind, and big waves—the whole of Eduardo's existence flashed before his eyes, for he could not swim and could not hope to save her.

And he remembered the scream that ripped then from his throat in that moment, when all was lost, which was described to him afterward as the purest sound of agonized fear ever created.

And he remembered the crowd of people who rushed for him, not understanding that his little girl was drowning beneath their feet.

And he remembered the soft voice that spoke urgently in his ear by the one person attentive enough to have recognized what happened, a voice that said, "Don't worry. I'll bring her back."

And he remembered looking up into the face of Adam Cross in that moment, the moment just before the man plunged over the side of the pier after his daughter, risking death of his own, and seeing in the man's eyes such a calm resolve that immediately Eduardo knew that everything would be all right.

And he remembered the moment when Adam emerged from the waters below, Sarah clutching tightly to his chest, frightened but unharmed in every way that mattered, and the moment when Adam returned Eduardo's daughter to him.

And he remembered in that moment his solemn vow to forever help and support the young man standing before him, whom he would come to learn was only nineteen years old, and who from that moment would be considered a part of their family.

*  *  *

Adam Cross let the ladies take their seats, which allowed him time to linger a moment with Eduardo before he sat down.

"How's Sarah?" he asked with a smile.

Eduardo beamed. "Excelente, my friend," he replied. "She graduates in June and starts UCLA in the fall. She earned early acceptance! She wanted to stay close to home, you know." His voice dropped softer then, for he was to broach a subject that hurt them all. "I am happy you have come, Adam. I have not seen you since the funeral. Sarah misses you."

Adam nodded. "I've been away too long. Tell her I'll come to dinner one of these nights soon, ok? I promise."

"I will tell her, she will be very excited," Eduardo said, then grinned. "Now, let me leave you to these two beautiful ladies. You will have to tell me the story of them over dinner another time."

Adam grinned right back. "Indeed," he replied, and took his seat.

"You have a lot of explaining to do, mister," said Holli Coverton with an arched eyebrow. She was impressed and amused in equal measure; it was not often someone she knew was on speaking terms with the manager of Café Montenegro, and could walk in without a reservation.

"No wonder you like him," said Michelle Johnson, Holli's girlfriend and lover. She'd only met Adam a few minutes earlier.

Adam shrugged. "We're old friends," he replied.

Holli did not buy it. "There is more to it than that," she said. "When we walked in, his face lit up like he'd seen an angel from heaven. You're a very interesting man, Adam Cross."

"Cute, too," said Michelle.

"There is more," Adam admitted, "but that's a story saved for another time and place. I've wanted to meet Michelle for several days, and now that I finally have her in person, nothing will stop me from telling her how beautiful she is."

Michelle giggled. 

"See what I mean, sweetie?" Holli said.

"He does seem to know how to use his mouth," the blonde replied thoughtfully.

"You have no idea," Holli said with a laugh.

And so the dinner progressed and the conversation flowed, and three new friends came to know each other better—very much liking all the various avenues they explored—and in the back of each of their minds was the thought that theirs would be a friendship to last a long time to come.

*  *  *

Benjamin Lane was amazed by the world of endless possibilities opened up to him by Dave Cartwright and Trent McCullough. There was pussy everywhere, and readily available if only one knew where and how to find it. His guilty conscience weighed on him briefly—but then two young sluts in Vegas spread their legs, and from that point on Ben went with the flow.




The Healing of Adam Cross Pt. 03



One week and three girls later, Ben was fucked-out. His fiancée had imposed a two-month moratorium on sex just before he left for Vegas, wanting to remain modestly pure in the eight weeks before the wedding, and while he fought the idea at first, he now considered it an incredibly good idea—he would have little fluid left for her at this point, if she wanted some.

Which is why it was nice to relax at her apartment that particular Saturday night, buzzing on red wine and watching a movie. It was one of the more recent James Bond films—Ben was unsure which one—and the scene on the screen involved Bond seducing a married woman.

Heather had been quiet all night long. In fact, she'd hardly said two words together since he'd arrived an hour earlier. She had not objected when he suggested the movie, not objected when he pulled out the wine, and not objected when he plopped down into her comfortable leather recliner, rather than sit next to her on the couch.

It was somewhat surprising, therefore, when she turned, fixed him with a very serious stare, and spoke for the first time. "Would you do that?" she asked.

"Huh?" Ben was not sure what she was talking about..

She nodded at the screen. "Sleep with a married woman," Heather said.

Ben grinned. "Of course," he said, feeling quite happy with his cleverness. "I plan on sleeping with a married woman every night in a couple of months!"

It was a good line, but Heather was not amused by it. "Would you cheat on me?"

Ben's grin vanished. This caught him off-guard; he needed time to think. "With a married woman?" he asked, acting confused.

"With any woman," she quickly countered.

Which brought him to a moment he had worried about ever since he first pushed his cock into Kara, the blonde Vegas stripper—the moment Heather would first ask him about other women.

It was a moment Dave and Trent seemed to think would come and go quickly, and easily; once you experienced their lifestyle, all notions of right and wrong as it related to sex were turned upside-down. Ben, however, had not known whether he would be able to look his girlfriend in the eye and diffuse the situation, as his friends called it.

But like everything else they taught him, it proved a piece of cake—his eye did not flicker, nor his voice waver, as he looked at Heather and said, "Sweetheart, I love you. Of course not."

And Heather stared at his face for a long moment with narrowed eyes before she turned back to the television and continued with the movie, and Ben smiled inwardly with the knowledge that he had cruised past the trouble spot and diffused the situation.

Of course, he could not have been more wrong.

*  *  *

The Marina Point condominium complex was one of the more upscale buildings in Marina Del Rey, or even the city of Los Angeles itself, if one were to really investigate the matter. The condos were well-designed and spacious, and the building amenities—workout room, sauna, pool, valet service, etcetera—were top-notch.

There was also ample security, in the form of twenty-four-seven video surveillance throughout and a team of security guards at various spots in and around the building, of which the two most visible were the men seated at the guard desk in the middle of the lavish entrance hall.

Davonne had been working the guard desk for three months now, and it was a good job. Low risk, relatively good pay, good benefits—and a nonstop parade of ass. The denizens of the complex were mostly affluent, many of whom were single older men, and the women they brought back for their various pleasures never ceased to amaze him. Davonne could not fathom sometimes how beauty some of the women were.

Of course, few held candles to the women in Ten-Forty-Two.

Miss Coverton and Miss Johnson were young, gorgeous, and in love with each other—lesbians, that is—which was just about the hottest thing Davonne could imagine. They were a frequent topic of conversation among the security staff; any reason to assist the women at their home prompted an all-out bidding war, and the complex weight room was the choicest assignment as the two women frequently worked out, often together. They were not seen much in the entrance hall, sadly enough, as condo owners had a separate entrance.

Which is why Davonne was delighted to see a limousine roll around the drop-off circle outside, the door open, and the beautiful blonde Miss Johnson emerge from within. He nearly fell off his chair—she wore a short white dress that seemed almost sprayed onto her body and offered a generous display of bronzed flesh. When Miss Coverton slipped from the depths of the limo on the heels of her lesbian lover, Davonne gave up trying to hold back his raging erection—her black dress was just as tight and just as sexy as the white one. It was at this point that a third person emerged, following the ladies, and Davonne's jaw dropped.

It was a man.

The security staff had been talking about the man who'd visited Ten-Forty-Two some nights earlier, but the group had passed the notion off as an acquaintance of some sort. There had not been a single man up to the condo in the two years the women had lived there, beyond two older men known to be the fathers of the women.

This man was clearly not their fathers, nor was he just an everyday acquaintance. He was young and handsome, and dressed in a sharp black tuxedo, and once all three were out and ready, the girls latched onto each arm, snuggling closer, as the man escorted them inside.

"Hello, Davonne," Miss Johnson sighed as the trio passed by.

Davonne did not even try to hide his amazement. He nodded, then stammered, "Miss Johnson, Miss Coverton. Have a good night."

Miss Coverton giggled. "We intend to," she said, and the way she said left little to Davonne's imagination. His raging erection was harder than ever.

He watched them go, watched their beautiful backsides as the rounded the corner and moved out of sight, and it was at this point that Jerry, his partner at the security desk, returned from the restroom and took his seat beside Davonne, and noticed immediately the slack-jawed expression.

"What happened?" the man asked. "Did I miss something?"

Davonne swallowed, hard, and said hoarsely, "I'm taking my break."

Which is exactly what he did, and release was swift in coming.

*   *   *

It began, as it had before, with wine.

Three glasses and a bottle of 2006 Duckhorn Estate Cabernet Sauvignon, to be exact. The girls were already buzzing off the wine from dinner, and neither was a particularly heavy drinker to begin with, so the group recognized one bottle would be more than enough for them all.

There was light conversation as they sipped their drinks, settled in the main room with the ladies upon the couch and Adam in a comfortable chair. It was pleasant and enjoyable, but carried with it a significant undercurrent of tension, a slow-building anticipation of where the night would take them, of what they all knew was coming next.

The ladies finished their glasses at the same time, sharing a glance over the rims as they did so. Adam set his own glass down and rose from his seat, saying, "Let me fill those for you." He moved forward, intending to do just that.

"Stop," Holli said quietly, and Adam stopped.

The ladies set their glasses down and looked at him, standing before them in the center of the room upon a very fine rug that he could not remember being there before. There was a smile upon Holli's face, a smile Adam knew well at this point, but there was no smile upon the face of her lover, Michelle—only expressionless intensity and more than a little hunger.

The girls exchanged another glance, longer this time, before Holli trained her eyes upon him once again. "In the short time we've known each other, Adam," she said, and there was a special sort of sincerity to her voice that seemed to carry, surprisingly, no sexual tones, "I've come to value your friendship a great deal. You're a good man, one of the best. I truly hope you know I mean it when I say how much you mean to me, and how much I think you will come to mean to us. I'm happy you're here with us, to share what I think will be a special moment for us all."

Holli rose to her feet, and despite having seen her all night long, Adam's breath caught at the sight of her: statuesque and beautiful, chestnut hair cascading from her head, eyes as bright and blue as the summer sky, and a body hot enough to ignite the flames of war, stuffed at present into a black dress showing an almost scandalous amount of flesh. She extended her hand and Michelle took it, and joined her on her feet—and scandalous, indeed, was the best word to describe the gorgeous blue-eyed blonde in the skimpy white dress. The two were a study in contrasts, and yet so very similar in all essentials. It had not taken Adam long at dinner to realize that the two girls were perfect for each other.

"It's been a long time for Michelle," Holli continued, her tone the same, "but she is ready. You are the first man we've brought into our home, the first we've ever spoken of in such ways, and the first we've considered a trusted friend. We are ready, but we ask that you follow our lead. This is new territory for us, no matter how long we've fantasized about it."

"I understand," Adam said softly, with a smile equally soft.

Michelle spoke next, her voice as light as her honey blonde hair, but heavy with lust that she did not even bother trying to conceal. "You're such a sweetie," she purred, "but once we get started, I'll expect a little less gentleman out of you, sir."

Adam grinned. "I understand," he repeated, and felt his blood begin to pulse.

"Please," Holli said, and now her voice was laden, too, with lust, "don't move."

He did not need to respond, and the ladies were not looking for it. They stepped forward, breaking their hand-holding to move to either side of him—close, but not too close. He was straight-legged, standing tall, unmoving despite the pounding of his heart and the blood rushing to his crotch; this would be, interestingly enough given Jocelyn's own well-disguised appetites, his first such encounter.

They did not touch him at first, but rather set about circling him—he expected this was ostensibly to ease Michelle into the idea her first man in years, not that she needed easing with the look upon her face. One full turn around him later, once back into their original positions, they finally reached out and put their hands on him.

Only to slowly set about relieving him of his three-piece tuxedo. They were slow and methodical, working very much in unison with synchronized movements, not applying to much pressure or caressing anything out of turn, but in moments his jacket, vest, tie, and dress shirt were discarded, leaving him bare-chested and dressed only in a pair of black slacks.

They set to circling him again, but this time their hands were active upon him, caressing his chest and the broad shoulders of his back, lightly and only with their fingertips. Their touch was so soft, it was almost like feathers dragged across his skin, and felt wonderful.

And then they moved closer, closing the distance between them, and suddenly Adam was surrounded on both sides by nothing but gorgeous female, chestnut to his left, blonde to his right. Holli's arms wrapped around his shoulders as she pressed herself against him, and he turned his head and tilted down to meet her raised, expectant lips. Michelle was not one to sit idly by as the others kissed—she slid her left arm around his lower back and peppered a series of her own kisses upon the skin of his shoulder, neck, and collarbone.

For the first time in a long time when faced with a sexual situation, Adam swooned and struggled to keep his knees from buckling. Two beautiful bisexual women were eager to pleasure him, and be pleasured by him, and for a moment he worried he would not be up to the challenge. He felt a significant responsibility, given all Holli had said and the knowledge that this was not something these girls did every day, and did not want to disappoint them.

And so he slapped himself, mentally, and told himself to focus—and to enjoy what was coming as he enjoyed all his experiences, and he smiled into Holli's mouth.

The lovely blue-eyed woman noticed, and pulled back. "What's so funny?" she asked with a playful smile touching the corners of her own lips.

"Nothing," he replied, "and everything. I'm happy I'm here."

Those blue eyes softened. "We're happy, too," she said sweetly, then her eyes narrowed and she added, "but I believe my little honey said no more nice guy."

It was time to bring out the big guns, Adam decided, and grinned. "You want it," he stated flatly, and firmly as he grabbed the back of Holli's head, "you got it."

Adam forced her forward, hungrily capturing her lips in his once more. His tongue slithered into her mouth, probing, searching, sweeping over teeth and lips and dueling with its better half. He could feel Michelle kissing her way up his neck, her lips like the faintest brush strokes of an artist at the easel, but she surprised him when she kept going all the way up to the line of his jaw, and then further still.

The blonde beach bunny leaned in and planted her lips next to Holli's, and suddenly Adam found a pair of tasty pink tongues in his mouth. The ladies exploded, their mouths working frenetically all at once against his own, and each other. Several seconds passed of zealous spit-swapping before the frenzy of the triple-kiss lessened, and soon the three found themselves in an open air licking contest. Grinning, Holli and Michelle flicked their tongues at each other.

Adam's hands were positively itching and it was time to do something about it. He reached out with his left hand, slipped it beneath the bottom of the black dress, and clutched at Holli's supple rump, squeezing and kneading the delectable flesh. Not wanting his newer acquaintance to feel left out, however, he also slid his right hand around the blonde's tiny waist and down, under the white dress to the smooth, round skin beneath.

Michelle sighed and pushed back against his palm, and Adam massaged the luscious bottoms of both girls as they continued their tandem assault upon his chin and neck and cheeks and mouth, sprinkling a sugary barrage of licks, nibbles, and kisses upon him. It was impossible for him to say which of the two bottoms felt better—they were both round and taut, and exceptional.

A half-moan, half-sigh escaped his lips and Holli and Michelle giggled in unison at the sound. He drew his head back, needing to catch his breath after such a deep kiss with two women at once, but the girls required no such pause—their mouths immediately closed the distance between each other, and Adam was treated to one of the most erotic sights of his life.

They were aware of him watching them, and while Holli and Michelle were quite familiar with one another, they took their time to let him relish it. Their lips met softly at first, almost chastely, but that moment did not last and soon their tongues were involved, licking and slurping each other with lusty delight. Adam was impossibly hard, watching their little show.

Soon, they separated and Holli glanced over at him. The grin was still on her face. "You see why I can't get enough of Michelle," she said, planting a tender kiss of the blonde woman's cheek. "I know you're just going to love her. She's such a hottie, and she has the tightest little butt."

"My love is such a lovely woman," Michelle chirped in response, pressing her wet lips to Holli's cheek to return the favor, "a hot, sexy, slutty, lovely woman. She loves your cock, you know. She tells me about it constantly. But now it's my turn."

Adam felt the very object of her words lurch in his pants. The ladies both noticed, as well, and Michelle snickered as her delicate hand reached down and cupped the bulge.

"Mmmm," she murmured as she massaged him gently through his dark slacks, "it feels big."

"See for yourself, my love," the buxom chestnut-haired beauty replied, as she slipped down to her knees. Her fingers deftly undid his belt and zipper, and in a flash the slacks were down around his ankles. She pulled off his shoes and socks and tugged the pants off the rest of the way, leaving him in only his boxer shorts.

Michelle looked up at him and their eyes met, her bright blue eyes wide with excitement. "May I?" she asked breathlessly.

Adam nodded, and those two blue pools went immediately back to his crotch as she, too, went to her knees. Michelle's delicate hands came up and took hold of the elastic band of his underwear. Slowly, waveringly, she tugged them down from their place to reveal what lay beneath, and her breath caught as the whole of him came into view.

"It's been a long time," Holli whispered, with a comforting hand on Michelle's shoulder.

Michelle nodded, her eyes wide as saucers, and inches from his cock. "Too long," she whispered back, as her tongue flicked absently across her lips. Her hand came forward once more, but this time there was no waver as she wrapped her fingers around the base of his shaft, and squeezed.

The feeling was exquisite and hardly anything had happened yet; Adam was certainly affected by the mentality of the situation, being the first male in a long time to have experienced the touch of the lovely Michelle, who met his gaze again.

"You like?" she asked with a grin that was both innocent and naughty at the same time.

Adam grunted, "Much."

"You'll like this, too," Holli breathed, and Adam nearly buckled when her velvety lips wrapped around his cock. Tenderly, lovingly, she suckled and slurped the mushroom head.

Michelle's hand still held the base of his shaft, but she was not content with the role—he nearly buckled a second time when Michelle leaned closer and gently kissed the wrinkled skin of his testicles. He groaned as she cupped the underside of one of the aching balls with the flat of her tongue, rolling it around. He squeezed his eyes shut, forcibly working to maintain his control.

When Adam opened his eyes, he noticed the ladies were grinning up at him, four bright blue eyes sparkling with great amusement, mischief, and lust. Michelle had pulled back both her hand and her head, but Holli's mouth was still full of his cock. Lazily, she dragged her lips off his member, even as her right hand came up and replaced Michelle's at the base. She grinned at him again, eyes flashing, and angled his shaft to point right at her blonde lover.

Michelle sighed, and swallowed the length of his cock in one easy motion; for someone gone so long without cock, the girl seemed to have no problem fitting one into her mouth. It registered plainly on his face: the shock of the move, the pleasure of the move, and his fleeting thoughts of her unnoticeable rustiness. He groaned again, and she giggled with her mouth full.

Their styles were very similar, loving and reverent, as if enjoying taking their time. He wondered if that was due to their recent experiences sucking only dildos and strap-ons, and not real cock; there was really no need to furiously devour a rubber penis, and so time was taken. Adam was grateful for whatever the reason, as a tender blowjob was always preferred—and doubly so when doubly the ladies were involved.

Michelle lapped with long tongue strokes up and down the length of his shaft, closing over the head and suckling every so often, sliding her lips languorously down as she took it back inside her mouth. It was exceptional and Adam enjoyed every second—so much that he actually groaned with loss as she finally lifted her head up and away.

"Your turn, my love," the blonde beauty murmured with a sigh as she angled his cock back in the direction of her lover.

Holli grinned and descended, and Adam found himself back once more inside her luscious mouth. Her head of luxurious chestnut hair bobbed up and down, slowly and steadily, and despite the subservience of the position with the women on their knees before him—and the emotional disconnect it could engender—Adam could feel clearly her affection in the tender way she pleasured him. It was intensely moving, and deeply pleasurable.




The Healing of Adam Cross Pt. 03



He reached down and ran his fingers through her hair, the slightest contact designed to let her know just how good it felt. She sighed around his cock, eliciting more pleasure for him, and then tilted her head to gaze up at him with those soft, soulful blue eyes.

Their look lasted long moments, saying more in that span than they could have with an hour's worth of conversation, two people coming together in a very deep, very sexual, and yet somehow strangely non-romantic way.

Holli pulled back again and offered his cock to Michelle once more, who took it without an ounce of hesitation. There was a little more frenzy in the blonde's sucking this time, her tongue flittering like crazy inside her mouth, slipping and sliding all over and around his shaft. She was focused on her task at hand, and did not look up.

Holli continued to keep her eyes fixed on his, however, only now there was a decided little twinkle to be found in those beautiful blue pools. The source of the twinkle was discovered when she dipped her head and adoringly nuzzled her nose against his testicles, and then swiped at them leisurely with the flat of her tongue. Truly, it was like something out of an adult movie, only in this movie Adam was the star.

If only Jocelyn could see him now, he thought with a small stab of pain, as was sometimes wont to happen at strange times. His girlfriend had been a vivacious sexual creature, open and uninhibited, and he knew she would love how much he was enjoying himself.

The girls pulled back then almost in unison, and exchanged another glance. The gaze held and the blonde came together with the chestnut beauty, their lips touching ever-so-slightly, ever-so-gently, the picture of Sapphic sensuality.

They moved lower suddenly, their heads descending even as they kissed, until the mushroom head of his cock pressed against Holli's cheek. The beautiful woman withdrew, the head slipped between their faces, and the girls came together once again—only this time with Adam's cock wedged firmly between their lips.

The feeling of the two lesbians making out with his penis ensconced between them, their mouths wet and wonderful, their tongues active, proved more than even Adam's control could handle.

"Close," he grunted as his knees trembled, and Holli put a firm hand on his butt to steady him as she urged, "Give it to us, Adam."

And so he did—his cock erupted like a geyser.

The first blast, hot and thick, shot upwards into the air as the woman moved with unnatural speed to position themselves before him, mouths open, tongues extended. Michelle managed to catch much of that first blast inside, with the rest across her chin. A second spurt struck Holli across the cheek and mouth, while two more blasts were swallowed eagerly, one for each girl.

Four hands fought to stroke his shaft, pumping and squeezing, as two mouths and two tongues searched hungrily for remnants of sperm. It had been a sizable load, one which would take some time to recover from, and so Adam moaned and toppled to the ground, utterly spent.

The girls, however, had plenty of life left.

*   *   *

He was such a good man.

It was strange, the depth of her feelings for him—she had not expected to be so completely taken with a man, not when she had such a wonderful relationship with Michelle. She was happy, yes, she and Michelle both were, and neither wanted anything more romantically in the world. They were the twin halves of each other's hearts.

Still, there is something to be said about the feeling of a man, and Holli had not realized how much she missed it. Or perhaps, she thought to herself as she watched Adam collapse to the floor, having blown a massive load into her mouth and Michelle's, perhaps it was just that she missed the feeling of a good man with a great cock, both of which were hard to find enough by themselves. She cared very much for Adam Cross, she decided, and was happy to have him in her life. They would not fall in love, nor get married, but she knew she would love him for who he was and what he was, and what he meant to her and Michelle, for as long as she lived.

She smiled, thinking of that; Adam seemed to have that effect on people, so perhaps she was just another convert—though she knew he cared about her, too, in all the right kinds of ways—and it was only a matter of time before Michelle converted, as well.

Holli glanced at Michelle and saw the ear-to-ear grin on her lover's face. There was a fire in the blonde's eyes that was hard to tap into, but glorious once reached. She knew this would continue to be an outstanding night, and right then Holli had a significant craving for female flesh.

"Sweetie," she whispered, and Michelle turned and her eyes softened.

It was tender, the way they came together, lips tasting and hands sliding softly across cloth and skin. Instantly they set about removing their dresses, as well as the rest of their clothes, and soon they were naked on the floor of their condominium, clutching each other's bodies.

Holli adored Michelle's breasts, like two little teardrops of perfection with dark red nipples and no tan lines . They were smaller C-cups, but looked much larger on the blonde's petite frame, and she raised her hands to fondle them—and Michelle certainly loved to have them fondled. Her eyes fluttered shut and her head tilted up, and she sighed deeply.

Holli looked over to where Adam was watching, and grinned. "You don't mind if we girls get on without you for a bit, do you, Adam?" she asked playfully. "At least, while you recover."

"It would be my pleasure," he responded with a grin of his own, as he took his semi-deflated cock in his hands and stroked it slowly.

Holli licked her lips, wanting to climb onto that cock and impale herself, but she also—and in equal measure—wanted to rinse her face in the juices of her beloved. She pulled Michelle down to the floor, spreading the blonde's legs as she settled her body between them. The girls embraced, their lips finding one another again, this time with a great deal of passion, the kind only lovers can share.

The buxom blue-eyed part-time stripper inched down the body of her blonde girlfriend, tilting her head and fastening her lips to one of Michelle's distended red nipples. She suckled with vigor, making sure Adam could hear the sound of it, and Michelle squealed with glee, her head tossed back, her eyes again tightly shut. Holli switched to the other side with a giggle, leaving a long wet smear in the valley of Michelle's cleavage, before rising to capture the crest of the other breasts in her mouth, and worshipping it with the same reverent care she always gave.

Michelle shivered with pleasure and ran her fingers through Holli's long hair. "Oh yes," she moaned, "that feels so good, my love. Suck my breasts . . . oh yes . . . just like that."

Whenever Holli was able to play with Michelle's breasts, she took her time—her bosom was that glorious. She feasted away upon the pair of nipples, alternating from left to right every half-minute or so. Her tongue was lazy across the shriveled nubs, licking and kissing and nibbling with the excruciating languor only possible when two females are involved. Every so often, she would lick the deep valley of the blonde's cleavage with the flat of her tongue.

Holli trailed one hand down between Michelle's trim thighs, two fingers stretching out to tickle the pink folds at the cleft where those thighs met. Michelle's labia was completely hairless, the whole region waxed clean but for a tiny golden tuft set just above the crease, an inch above the clitoris—which Holli massaged, suddenly and without warning, with those fingers.

Michelle quaked and cried, "Ohhhhh god yes . . . touch me, my love . . ."

Holli grinned and raised her head from the beach bunny's breasts. "I'll touch you, sweetie, and so much more." She glanced at Adam, whose cock was back to being totally rock hard. "But our guest requires a little love, too."

Michelle lifted her head, her blue eyes flashing with lusty excitement. "Mmmm, yes. We can't leave him alone, can we? What do you have in mind?"

Holli met her gaze, then turned to Adam. "You suck his cock. I'll lick your pretty little pussy."

The blonde grinned and licked her lips. "Good idea," she breathed, and Holli nearly laughed out loud at the expression of desire, anticipation, and complete disbelief on the face of Adam Cross.

Whose world she and her lover were about to rock.

*   *   *

"What do you have in mind?"

The words hung in the air a long moment before Holli responded, and with her words, the night took another turn. She said, "You suck his cock. I'll lick your pretty little pussy."

Michelle said something else, something Adam hardly heard what with the sudden fire on his face and ringing in his ears, and then, just as suddenly, the two girls were moving, their naked bodies rising and slithering: Michelle crawling forward on hands and knees, her swollen breasts hanging down and jiggling as she went; Holli twisting around to lie on her back, and shimmying between Michelle's widespread thighs like a mechanic beneath a car.

The blonde smiled as she reached where Adam lay on the floor, propped up on his elbows. Her tongue flittered over her lips, eagerly and hungrily, as her eyes dropped to his crotch and the rigid meat waiting for her there. Meanwhile, Holli settled into her final position with her mouth mere inches from Michelle's glistening folds, and their eyes met for a long moment before the pleasuring began.

"Ready, stud?" Michelle asked as her beautiful blue eyes came back to his, just before her pouty lips closed over the head of his cock. Those eyes flashed as she gazed at Adam, her mouth busy with the thickness within.

Adam looked past the blonde through the gap between their bodies and the space between her breasts, and saw that even as Michelle was focusing her attentions on him, she was also sliding her knees out to lower her sex to the lips of her lover. Holli's tongue flickered forward, skimming over the full length of the pussy before her. Michelle quivered and moaned, and the vibrations of both sent chords of pleasure shooting through Adam's cock.

He clutched at the blonde head of hair that was suckling him, slurping feverishly away, bobbing up and down at a blistering pace. Her blue eyes never once stopped staring at his face.

Suddenly she whimpered and her eyes fluttered shut, and Adam looked down again to find Holli fingering the petite blonde's pussy, strumming her clitoris and thrusting first one, then two fingers in-and-out of the rubbery hole.

The effect on Michelle was devastating. Her body trembled and writhed, agitated and aroused, and fortunately for Adam there was only one way in which Michelle could possibly hope to release some of her arousal; he groaned as she dipped her head and swallowed nearly the entire length of his cock. Her blue eyes were like sapphire daggers as they pierced into his, practically demanding that he blow his second load into her mouth.

The intensity of her gaze wavered, however, then cracked completely—Michelle began to quake violently and her eyes rolled back into head, and she spit out his cock and wailed at the top of her lungs. It was sharp and sudden, a passionate scream of climax and the highest possible praise she could bestow upon the skillful tongue of Holli Coverton. 

"Oooohhhhhh ffffuuucccckkkkkkk!" the little blonde beach bunny cried. She did not, however, release her vice-like hold of his cock; it was almost as if holding onto him there was the one thing keeping her rooted somewhat in place.

At last, when the tremors and tingles of orgasm subsided, Michelle sighed and sagged wearily to the floor, and Holli wriggled out from under her. The chestnut beauty rose to her knees, looking every bit the delectable vixen as she trained her own bright blue eyes on Adam. Her fact was shiny and dripping with fresh sex nectar, and she grinned and swept her tongue around her lips.

"Yummy," she whispered as she savored the tasty juice.

"Come here," Adam said, and she leaned forward to share her lips. It was a heavenly taste, the juices of Michelle, and he sucked as much of it from Holli's mouth as he could.

Michelle watched them with a happy smile, and then Holli pulled back and turned to her. "Did you enjoy that, sweetie?" she breathed.

The blonde grinned wickedly, her happy smile turning positively devilish. "Oh yes, but now it's your turn," she replied, and in the next moment her expression morphed again into one of stony intensity. When she spoke next, turning to face Adam, her voice was hard. "I want you to fuck her. I want you to fuck her hard. I want you to make her beg."

Michelle vaulted forward and practically tackled the chestnut-haired beauty, pinning her on her back on the floor. Holli squealed, then purred as the blonde ran hands all over her body as she positioned them both to her liking. When all was said and done, Michelle was behind Holli with the latter's head in the former's lap.

Adam looked down at Holli's naked body. It was still relatively new to him, having only presented itself a handful of times, and he took the moment to enjoy to view to such degrees as he had not been able to since the striptease night in Vegas. Long legs, lean limbs, a supple figure: all was there on the floor before, awaiting eagerly his next move.

Michelle was not looking to wait, however, and after a minute or so, she took it upon herself to speed things up. "Lift," she whispered simply to Holli, who obeyed instantly, already knowing what she meant.

Which is why Holli lifted her legs into the air, which Michelle then took hold up just above the ankles to guide back and out, lewdly displaying the nether regions of her lover to the man before them both. Bent nearly in half but with her ass upturned and her legs spread apart, Holli's pretty pink pussy gaped open, the little lips stretched wide and quivering with anticipation.

"Fuck me, Adam," Holli pleaded softly.

"Fuck her, Adam," Michelle said firmly.

And so Adam positioned himself before the supple body and between the luscious legs, his arms planting on either side of torso for measure of support, and when he was steady, he wasted no further time—without word or warning, and without pause, he mounted her and sank his cock to the hilt inside her hot, moist pussy.

"AAAHHHHHH!" Holli wailed as her head tilted back and her eyes fluttered shut. The widespread position of her legs and the angle of his assault allowed extremely deep penetration, deeper perhaps than she had taken in some time, but Adam did not stop feeding the full length of his cock into her quaking depths again and again. It was not fast, but it was relentless.

"Now," Michelle whispered, "fuck her hard."

Ever the gentlemen, Adam obliged the lady.

He raised his hips and slammed into Holli at a nearly breakneck speed. She grunted, sounds which soon turned to whimpers as her whole body took the hardest pounding it had taken in years, if not ever. Her legs were dead weights, and had they not been held up by Michelle, would certainly have flopped around like the limbs of a rag doll. In and out, in and out, Adam drove his rigid throbbing shaft again and again into her velvety sheath, pummeling her. The squishing sounds of their fucking filled the room.

"Unnhh . . . ahhhh . . . ahhhh . . . unnhhh . . . unnnhhhh . . . ahhhhh . . . "

It was a brutal fucking, but it was exactly what Michelle wanted; her cold, low voice spurred him on throughout. "Fuck her," she whispered. "Fuck her hard. Make her cum. Give her cock. She wants it so bad. Give it to her. Fuck her harder. Fuck her harder. Fuck her HARDER!"

Holli, too, proved talkative—when she could form semi-audible words amidst the whimpers.

"Unnnhhhffffuuccckkkk . . . aaahhhhgggiiivvveee iiiittttt . . . ahhhhhh . . . unnnhhhh . . . fffuucckkk meeeee . . unnnhhhhh . . . fffuuuuuccckk mmeeeee . . . aaahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

Michelle inched away from her spot and around, never letting the legs of her lover go, to where Adam was working feverishly to generate thrust after powerful thrust. She was silent now, listening to the screams and wails of Holli as she took each vicious stroke. She looked at the man who was giving it to her, at the strong line of his jaw and the determined set of his face.

Yes, she could see why Holli liked him so much. She was beginning to like him very much, too.

She leaned forward and placed her lips gently on his cheek, and he turned with surprise in his eyes to face her even as he continued his assault on the woman beneath him. She smiled, feeling the blush come over her face, and leaned in again, this time delicately touching his lips with her own. It was soft and tender, and full of meaning . . . and designed to blow Adam's mind.

Which it most certainly did.

Here he was on the one hand fucking a beautiful long-limbed goddess on the floor before him, balls deep over and over as her supple breasts jiggled and bounced, even as he savored the tasty lips of another gorgeous female. The sensory overload just about did him in.

And then Holli screamed out her orgasm at the top of her lungs, dumping fresh juice from her sex, and the quartet of sight, sound, taste, and touch ended him completely.

He thrust forward into the chestnut beauty once, twice, three times more before his cock lurched and he emptied his balls, and growled into the mouth of Michelle as she continued to kiss him. Time slowed. The pleasure escalated and crested, and culminated.

Michelle grazed her tongue over his lips once more and pulled back, those bright blue eyes flashing as they surveyed the scene—Holli sprawled beneath him, eyes closed, body trembling, his cock still deep inside her—and giggled. "I think you wore her out," she purred. "Good. She has something I want and this makes it much easier."

Adam frowned and said, "Something you want?"

"Cum," the blonde replied succinctly with a wicked sort of grin.

She pushed back on Adam's chest and his cock slipped free of the clutching pussy sheath, and Michelle wasted no time settling herself between her lover's legs. She dipped her head and traced her tongue in slow circles across the innermost thighs. Holli murmured softly but did not raise her head—she was still groggy on the way down from delirious orgasm—but that head snapped up and her eyes went wide with astonishment in the very next moment as Michelle buried her lips in Holli's sopping pussy, probing the puffy opening with her tongue for only a moment before her lips puckered into an 'O' and suckled with significant force.

Adam watched as sticky globs of white oozed from Holli's crevice and into Michelle's waiting mouth. It was undeniably nasty, but also undeniably hot, and Adam felt his twice-spent cock twitch yet again; the night, he thought with a smile, was swiftly nearing marathon status.

Michelle continued to slurp at Holli's sex as Adam took his shaft into his hands to coax it back to life. The sight itself was largely enough, with a pair of beautiful naked ladies engaged on the floor—Holli flat on her back, legs splayed to the sides, with Michelle on her knees and elbows, back arched, her tight little rump upturned and wiggling as she worked her wanton mouth. 

And then his cock flared completely to life as another thought entered his mind. It was a delicious thought, he would readily admit, and one he hoped he would swiftly see realized.

Adam moved forward on his knees and settled in behind Michelle, his shaft hard and wobbling in the air before him as he went. He reached forward, slowly, gently, and put his hands upon the supple cheeks of the blonde, even as his cock brushed the swollen folds of her sex.

Michelle gasped and whipped her head around, blonde hair flying in an arc as she turned. Her lips glistened with female love juice and her bright blue eyes were wide as they met his, and he read the concern in them. It had been a long time for Michelle, a long time since a man had moved inside her, and she was—despite her confidence over the course of the night—nervous.




The Healing Process



I looked around the pub and it was heaving. Wall to wall with perfumed women, slimy men and thumping music. Still, I suppose that's what Friday nights is all about. I was sat at the corner of the bar, nurturing a nice cold pint of lager and just people watching. The crowd I was with had long dispersed into the cool autumn night but I had decided to stay on and people watch whilst having a few drinks. Why I was doing this heaven only knows, but it seemed better than a take-away curry for one and an early night with just a duvet for company. 

My wife, I mean ex-wife, had long gone and I was at the stage of rehabilitating myself back into the outside world again. My friends and work colleagues had all rallied round to get me out and about, and to a certain extent it had worked. I was now starting to go out with them after work and sometimes at weekends, but soon, like tonight they all went back to their own lives and social functions that sometimes meant us single people not being included. Still, the fact that I was out was fine by me and I carried on looking around, watching and minding my own business. 

Well, that was until about half an hour later. I had just got another drink when a woman came over to me. She was about forty, attractive, about five-seven in her heels and dressed like a St. Trinians school-girl. "Great!!" I thought to myself. How downtrodden did I really look? 

"I know this is a bit forward and may seem a bit rude but I couldn't help noticing that you had been sat on your own for a while. I was wondering if I could sit with you for a bit?" she asked kind of shyly but politely.

"Sure, be my guest." was the best that I could muster. At least she didn't think I was a stalker. "Erm...erm...would you like a drink?" I asked stuttering, partly from astonishment that someone female would actually want to talk to me and partly wondering why.

"I'll just a have a coke if that's OK." she replied. 

I beckoned over the girl behind the bar and duly got my mystery guest her drink and she sat next to me. "Sorry. erm...I just have to ask this and I also hope I am not being rude but erm...." I looked her up and down.

She interrupted me, laughing. "Yes, sorry, I suppose it does seem strange. Me all dressed up like this approaching a perfectly respectable, and may I say good looking, man. Let me explain. I am here on a hen night but, being just the wrong side of middle-aged, it seems to have passed me by and I am a little bored." One hand went to her mouth and the other touched my knee as she realised what she had said."Oh, I am so sorry, that came out all wrong. What I meant was that all the youngsters are around enjoying themselves and I am here on my own. Did that sound better?"

I smiled reassuringly. "Yes, much much better."

She smiled back. "So what about you? Do you always come to pubs and just sit there on your own.?

"I try not to make a habit of it, no." I replied. "But we have only just met and I wouldn't want to ruin your evening just yet with all the details but suffice to say it is a long story. Anyway, please forgive my manners but let me introduce myself. I'm Jack." I extended my hand towards her and at that point she starting laughing. I looked at her quizzically but she kept laughing. 

"Sorry." she said in between giggles. "But you are not going to believe this." She composed herself enough to look my in the eye and say "My name is Jill" and that was it. We both fell about laughing for a good five minutes. 

Well that was it, the ice-breaker to break all ice-breakers. We chatted about our lives, laughed, drank, chatted some more. It was like someone had lifted a ten ton weight off my shoulders and it felt good. The more we talked, the more i realised that I wasn't the only one with a past. Jill too had been through what I had and it was good to talk to someone who could actually relate to what I was feeling and thinking. Her husband had left her for his secretary six years ago and it had taken her a long time to come to terms with the fact that life still goes on and to enjoy it. 

"You will get through it Jack. Look at me." she said. "Been there, done that, worn the t-shirt. But I am still here and better for it, and so will you be.

I nodded. "Well I do hope so. Let's propose a toast." I raised my glass and Jill did likewise with hers. "To the future and whatever it may bring." We chinked glasses

"To the future." Jill repeated, holding my gaze and then winking at me. And believe me, if you have ever been winked at by a forty-odd year old dressed in school uniform, fishnet stockings and high heels, it is a memory that stays with you. Unfortunately, the moment was broken by an identically dressed woman standing next to us.

"Hey Mum. Whose this gorgeous bloke you're with then?" she asked. 

Once again Jill burst out laughing before again composing herself. "Liz, this is Jack." The penny dropped in Liz's mind in record time and they both fell about laughing. When they had finally composed themselves, Jill turned to me. "Jack.This is my daughter Liz." I waved and nodded. 

Liz nodded back and then carried on talking to her Mum. "We are going to that club now. Are you coming?"

"I don't think so love." she replied to her daughter. "You go and enjoy yourself. Besides, I am quite happy here." She turned and smiled at me. 

Liz laughed. "So I can see! I'll ring you in the morning OK. You can tell me everything then."

Jill nodded. "Not too early though. I may still be asleep or...." Her voice trailed off and I felt myself going a dark shade of crimson.

"Yeah, thanks for that Mum. Much to much information. Just be careful OK." She said, giving her mum a hug and peck on the cheek. 

"I will love. You just enjoy yourself." and with that off went Jill's daughter. 

"Sorry about that Jack. I couldn't resist." she said turning back to me.

"Hey, no problems. So what next? Another drink?" I asked, my heart racing

"No, not another drink. I think it's about time your healing process moved on a bit." Jill stood up and reached out her hand towards me. I gave a deep sigh and took it, raising myself up and standing next to her. She leaned into me and whispered "Your place or mine?"

"Yours." I whispered back. She smiled and leant in again but this time not to whisper in my ear. I felt her lips brush mine, softly at first but then with more feeling as I responded in kind, our mouths opening and then kissing each other deeply yet tenderly. We broke the kiss and she said. "Come on. Lets go."

I have to admit my mind was racing all the way back to Jill's house. It was only a five minute walk but with every step I was getting more and more nervous. It had been a while since I had done anything like this and all sorts of things were going round in my head. Jill must have sensed this as she stopped walking and turned to me, slipping her arms around my waist and pulling me to her. "It's OK, you know, to feel scared. I am scared too Jack. It's been a while for me as well. But I wouldn't be doing this if I didn't want to. I'll let you into a little secret. I was watching you all night in that pub, for about two hours before I plucked up the courage to come and talk to you. Even when you're friends had gone I still waited. You seemed to be looking everywhere else and I could never catch your eye. But something made me come over to you Jack. You looked burdened and I thought to myself why was such a good looking man looking so troubled and that's what finally made me come over to you. I had to know, to find out and I glad that I did." It was Jill's turn to turn all coy.

"And I am glad that you did as well Jill." I said smiling down at her, my arms by now around her waist as well. "And yes, I am scared but with you I know it will be OK." With that we kissed again just as tenderly as before and then continued walking to Jill's. 

We kissed again at her front door, this time with more urgency as Jill tried to find her keys, eventually doing so but then fumbling attempting to put them into the lock. "Here let me." My hands we shaking as I turned the key and opened her front door. Moving aside, I let her walk in first, and then I followed, closing the door behind me. Nothing was said as she put down her bag and took the keys from me, placing them on the hall table. She took my hand in silence, her eyes never leaving my face and then lead me towards, and up, the stairs. I swear to this day we could hear each others heart beating as we climbed the stairs and opened the door to her bedroom. 

Once inside we stopped, Jill pulling me to her and once again kissing me, this time more passionately, more wanting and I responded in kind. This wasn't going to be just sex or a one night stand. We both knew it and we both respected it. This was going to be more .This was two people who were going to enjoy every minute, every second of each other, every second of tonight and beyond. Jill began undoing the buttons of my shirt, pulling it from shoulders and then from my arms. Her fingers ran through the wisps of hair on my chest, sending shivers down my spine, making me kiss her even more deeply. She stepped back, her eyes taking me in as she slowly undid each button of her white blouse, letting it fall aimlessly to the floor. She reached behind and began to unclasp her bra, still her eyes never leaving me. Coyly she brought her arms to the front, crossing them in front of her now bra-less chest. Slowly she unfolded them and with a wink dropped the garment to floor, her breasts now exposed to me for the first time. My eyes drank in the beauty of this, what seemed to me, perfectly formed woman. I walked the one pace between us and now it was me pulling Jill onto me, our naked torso's meeting as I kissed her with a passion long gone, but now found and burning. My hands roaming over the smooth skin of her back as her fingernails grazed likewise over mine. My hand reaching over to the top her skirt, unbuttoning it and sliding the zipper down. She moved every so slightly, allowing it to fall at her feet, and then stepped out of it. Her hands moved down to my waist, pulling me closer to her. She moaned as she felt my now growing hardness push against her through the confines of my trousers and reached down in between us, rubbing and stroking it as we kissed. 

She broke the kiss and then in one movement sank to her knees in front of me. Looking up at me, she unbuttoned my trousers and the slowly lowered the zipper. My trousers fell at me feet as she rubbed my now very hard member through my briefs, and then finally removing my briefs, exposing me totally. Jill snaked out her tongue across the crown of my cock and then kissed it before sliding her lips down one side then the other. Slowly she slide the head into her mouth and began to bob gently on it, her hands massaging my balls as they hung below. I let out a deep moan, hardly believing this was actually but enjoying every mind blowing sensation that I was feeling. I looked down at her through half-closed eyes and she smiled back up at me, releasing my cock from her mouth with a loud plop.

"You will get more of that later. But tonight, now, I want you inside me, making love to me, fucking me." she said, still on her knees, still with my cock in her hand. She had turned from schoolgirl to seductress and I was not going to complain. Pulling her up, we kissed again and I could taste myself on her lips and tongue. Breaking the kiss she fell on the bed as I kicked off my shoes and then took off my socks, now completely naked. I looked over to Jill, who now laying on her bed, just clad in black fishnet stockings, a black thong and heels. Slowly she lifted her legs and raised her hips off the bed. Hooking her fingers in the side of her thong she pulled it off and over her legs, before discarding it over the side of the bed. I walked over to the bed, climbing on it and over Jill. I raised myself up on my hands and looked down at her, naked, sexy and gorgeous. Her legs spread around me, her breathing hard making her breasts move. "Be gentle Jack." she whispered.

I smiled and took her hand and placed it on my cock, allowing her to guide me into her. We gasped in unison as the tip of my cock touched her pussy lips, allowing me to feel for the first time her wetness, her arousal. She let go of me and raised her hips up, enabling me to slide gently into her. I didn't move, allowing her to accept me, to enjoy me deep within her. She would let me know when she was ready. 

Slowly Jill began to move and I moved with her. I planted little butterfly kisses on her neck, shoulders and lips as her legs widened and then wrapped around my hips, pulling me deeper into her. I felt sensations and feelings that I had never felt before as our bodies joined. I began to move faster, and then slower. Fucking, then making love. Her nails dragging over my back as I nibbled on her ears and neck. Little bites and soft kisses. My lips covered a nipple, sucking it in to my mouth, gently rolling my tongue over it, softly nibbling it. I heard Jill moan as she moved faster, leading me this time as I began to push hard into her, deep into her. As if sensing each others needs, our eyes flicked open at the same time and stayed open, both of us wanting to watch others pleasure. Our hips began to grind and movements more urgent. Our breathing become more ragged by the second as we moved quicker. It was though Jill was pulling me into her, squeezing me with every stroke, wanting me so much inside her. She was close and so was I. I pushed harder and quicker, Jill moved with and I felt her body shudder as she began to moan louder and louder. Her hips bucked as she reached her orgasm, clenching her pussy around my cock which pushed me over the edge and I cried out as I began to explode inside her. Our screams and moans were for all to hear as we came in unison, our peaks reached together and our bodies joined as one.

It took a while for us both to come down from our heights, the intensity of what we had just done never far from our minds. I had never experienced anything like it and I knew that Jill hadn't either. It could never be taken away from us and whatever happened in the future would never be forgotten. Slowly and unwantingly, we disentangled ourselves from the other and removed what clothes we still had on. Snuggling under the quilt, Jill curled herself around me. Not a word had been spoken for about half an hour but it needed no words.

She kissed me lightly on the cheek, placed her hand over my heart and said. "Thank you Jack."

I smiled at her and placed my hand over hers, shaking my head. "It's me who should be thanking you Jill." She smiled and cuddled into me, her eyes closed and her hand over my heart. I smiled in the darkness. Healed? Not yet. On the way? Beyond doubt. With that, I shut my eyes.



The Healing Touch



(Originally published in 2008, this was my first ever erotic fiction piece. Thanks for reading!)


"Now secure a sinex drop reading." 

"A sinex drop reading of less than 2000 degrees with an accompanying loss of greater than 350 degrees since admission may indicate....?" 

Luke Skywalker, general of the rebel alliance, floated in the bacta like a lifeless doll. Resting in a tranquil sleep, dreams came to him out of the dark, muddled, and confusing. Hazy images were his only conscious thoughts. 

"See if you can get a reading on tactal retention. Try to estimate it without a meter reading." 

There was no sense of space, or time, or being. Luke was simply an observer in this dream world. Helpless to the overpowering visions formulating in his mind. This wasn't the first time he had experienced these dreams. 

"Be careful now." 
"Um, let me see..." 
"Hurry up." 

Luke had many dreams, like any other being in the galaxy. Some meaningless, and cluttered. Some dreams were distorted memories of his past on Tatooine. Sometimes he had nightmares. Krayt dragons, and womprats attacking him; nemesis' of his childhood. And of course, like any red-blooded male... some dreams were fantasies of sexual nature. And they were more often than not about a certain Alderaani princess... many was the night he woke up with a pool of cum next to him after dreaming of Leia Organa, leader of the Rebel Alliance. ...And then, there were the other dreams. 

"4732?" 
"Too low." 
"Control on." 
"No, evidently you reversed the polarity on his lobal travel. Secure another sinex drop." 

There was something different about the these dreams. They weren't visions of something imagined, or something that he had experienced in the past, or wanted to experience. Yet, they were becoming more and more clear each time he saw them. But if what he saw wasn't the past, and it wasn't something happening in the present... 

"4000 degrees is usually the point of...?" 
"Vocasity." 
"No, tetanty." 

There it was. Just for a second. Then blackness. Was the dream over? Then another glimpse. Was that Han? Chewie was there... yelling... screaming. Han should do something shouldn't he? ...No. His hands are bound. Leia. Do something! ...She can't. Surrounded by stormtroopers. Blackness takes over again. There is nothing. After a moment Han is there again. He is being lowered into... something evil. Something painful... something cold. Someone do something! Han is almost completely out of sight. Then, like a hammer of death, a ----*CLICK* 

FX-7, the MedTech droid extended its electro probe towards the side of the bacta tank. The suction sealed a hold onto the thermo-glass and gave a small, yet harsh electrical jolt to the tank. Bacta of course conducts electricity even better than water, and so it was easy to awaken General Skywalker from his hibernating state. His eyes flashed open, and he became aware of his surroundings. There were people watching him. Leia. Threepio. And Han! He was alive. Safe. There were no stormtroopers, or blasters leveled at anyone. It was only a dream. Yet a very real dream at that. 

"He looks more pale than a Twi'lek who hasn't been outside for 20 years," Han quipped. 

Leia could only watch. There was Luke, suspended in a pool of slime, breathing out of tubes, totally helpless. She hated to see him like this. When she had first met him, he was such a young, exuberant man, full of energy. He was always there with a fresh attitude, and a willingness to sacrifice what was needed for a good cause. But did she ever guess those sacrifices would go this far? Would he even recover from this? 

Still, there was something about him now... something that made a part of Leia more warm towards him. It was almost enjoyable to see an attractive man completely weakened in this state. Not in a sadistic way. No, Leia would never get enjoyment out of the suffering of others. But rather that Luke needed help. Hers, if she decided to give it. And of course she would do anything for him. She cared about him very much. In an almost... sisterly way.

"Hey Princess," Han interrupted her thoughts. "He'll be fine." 

Han Solo. Pirate. Smuggler. Law breaker. And the polar opposite of Luke. Besides the fact that they hated the Empire, they had nothing else in common. Han was nothing of a weak man, and even if he was in Luke's shoes, he wouldn't show it. He had pride, and was in no way ready to show any vulnerability. In fact... that was exactly what he and Leia shared in common. For she too was much too prideful to admit her feelings. And her feelings towards Han were... 

"I know. " 

"The bacta in these tanks are regenerative growth stimuli," Han explained. "Anything that's been damaged, or can be healed is usually fully revived in days, sometimes even improving and expanding normal living tissue—" 

"Han, I know," the princess cut him short. "I just want him back on his feet again." 

Threepio, who had been listening the whole time, waiting for his chance to chime in, took a step closer to the couple. "Mistress Leia, if I may say so, Master Luke's chances of full recovery are very good. Approximately two point four nine three—" 

"...To one. We know, golden rod," Han finished. "But it takes a whole lot more than numbers to win. In my experience there's no such thing as odds. You're lucky, or you ain't. You've got skill, or you don't. And Luke here's got luck, skill, and the force. Something I'm betting your compu-processor can't even begin to estimate." 

Threepio tilted his head, almost saying something, but thought better of it, and walked away, muttering something about Captain Solo's odds not being so good. 

"Shouldn't he be recharging?" Leia remarked in a sarcastic way. 

Han smirked. "If I had my way, he should be at the bottom of a sink hole on Utapau." 

"Well," Leia poked him in the chest, "It's a good thing that Threepio is Luke's droid to take care of, and not yours." And grinning to herself, she turned away towards the exit. 

"Hey, you know how that walking piece of metal and gears is still Luke's? That's thanks to me!" She made no reply. 

"And you're welcome!" 

-- 

As Luke was drawn out of the tank, the breathing apparatus was removed by the Rebel medical examiners. He was weak, barely able to stand up. Apparently the top of the bacta tank was at the top of the second level, because he was standing on it now. The walls of course were all ice, and gave off a chilling draft that made Luke shiver uncontrollably. But the examiners rushed him over to a hydro-spray that cleaned him of all the sticky bacta, and afterward he was immediately dried off with warm towels. 

The dry warmth was welcome, but in his post-traumatic state, he started to lose his orientation. The room seemed to dance all around him. The lights were a blur of motion. 

"Stress category." 
"Triple three! Triple three! Easy..." 

It was nausea. He was losing it. His body had endured so much; it could only stay conscious long enough before it again needed to rest. 

"What happened?" 
"See if you can get a reading on tactal retention. Try to estimate it without a meter reading." 

Mental and physical shutdown. This was it. Blackness overcame him once more. 

"It's very rare to see a nurl bond dissolve like that." 

-- 

His next conscious thoughts were whiteness. Whiteness all around him. It was better than the blackness of his dreams, he thought. Because he couldn't see any particular thing with his eyes, he concentrated on his other sensory aids. 

Smell... bacta still lingering on his skin, oxygen purifiers, fresh bedding... wherever he was, it was a new place; just built. Of course, because virtually all of the Rebel base on Hoth was brand new. After fleeing the planet moon of Yavin, the Rebels had chosen the icy planet because of its obscurity, and ability to almost completely shadow heat traces to scanners. They had hoped that the frigid temperatures would cloak their most vulnerable asset: The shield generators. Time would tell. 

Touch... he knew he was lying down on a cot or a bed of some type. He wore something soft, something warm. It felt like a medical robe. He gave himself a quick examination for injuries... No, nothing broken, no bleeding anywhere... though something felt different. He felt he had grown somehow... he couldn't place it. But before he could, he noticed something on his face. What was it? He touched it. It was some kind of skin-like covering that rested on the injured half of his face. It was soothing, numbing the pain of his scars. 

*WIRRR* 

Sound... 2-1B's (Referred to by the "Rebels as Too-Onebee") servomotors came to life and its medical claw brushed away his hands from his face. Then it grabbed a corner of the bacta mask and slowly pealed it away. Luke could hear the soft crackling as the adhesive tore away. He expected it to be painful, but it was no more so than a patch-aid. He could hear 2-1B again as it disposed of the mask. The atmosphere of the room surrounded him. Information readouts hummed. Medical equipment pulsed. Then, he heard a *WHOOSH*which he immediately identified as the doorway to the room opening. The next thing he heard was the slamming of his heart into his chest. Because... 

The force... his greatest sense, his most powerful ally; It told him all what his other senses had, and volumes more. "Your eyes can deceive you, don't trust them." How right old Ben was. And right now, the force had told him that someone had just entered the room. No, not just someone... 

Leia. 

Her force-signature was unmistakable. It was so close in similarity to his after all. He felt her stand at the doorway for a moment, taking in the scene. Then she slowly paced over to his bedside. Though his eyesight was only just returning, he turned his head to watch her. He couldn't see her smile, but he could feel it in the force. He couldn't see her eyes, full of sympathy and love, but he felt them shining at him. He couldn't see the soft rise and fall of her breasts, but... 

"Luke." 
"Leia." She held his hand, "I'm right here." He smiled at this, and felt his face with his free hand. 
"How do I look?" 
"The scars should be gone in a day or so. Does it still hurt?" 

He shrugged, "I'm fine," (though not very convincingly.) At this she sighed. It would probably be a few more days before he was fully recovered. In a high quality med-lab in a large populous like Coruscant with the best physicians in the galaxy at his side, it would be different. But this was Hoth. This was the best the Rebel Alliance had to offer. And everyone who signed up knew it. Everyone was willing to make sacrifices, even their own lives for the cause. Luke was no different. And Leia smiled to herself because she was so familiar with Luke's selflessness, that if he knew, he probably would object to the fact that she requested he be put in the best Med-center in the base. 

This made her all the more grateful for him. And so it caused her to be in even more pain to see him in this condition. If only she could make it better, to speed up the healing process somehow... she had to try.

As she winced at the sight of the scars on his face, she reached out to touch them. Leia ran her fingers along each crevice and line with loving care. 

"Really. Leia... I'm fine..." he feigned protest. Inside, of course, he didn't mind at all. But at this objection, Leia decided humor was the best medicine, and she continued to tease him by planting kisses all over his scars. 

"Momma will make it better Luke, don't you fret," she giggled softly. Luke on the other hand was enjoying her goofing around, but not in the way she expected. (Though perhaps she would have, if she had only taken a glance down at his trousers at this moment.) "Leia, I... really... Well you sure can make it better, you've made your point." This made her laugh all the more, and she attacked his face all over with kisses. On his cheeks. On his forehead. On his chin. On his nose... 

Luke was growing irritated and impatient with these games. Did she know what she was doing to him? And he began to wonder what her true motivations were here. Then, a devilish thought came into his mind... If she wants to play around with me, maybe I'll play around with her... and get what I want at the same time... 

Suddenly Leia found herself not kissing Luke on his face, but right on his mouth! He quickly took advantage of their close proximity and cupped her face in his hands and guided her lips to his. The kiss held, then lasted, then deepened. And just as Luke was about to introduce her to a little Corellian-style kissing with his tongue, she pulled away, with doubt in her eyes. "Luke... what..." 

Luke rolled his eyes at this. First she teases him with kisses, and then complains when he goes for the real thing? Banthashit. She wanted it. He could tell when he kissed her. For a moment, she had completely given herself up. Now he just needed to bring that moment back. "Come on Leia... What do you think you were doing to me a moment earlier?" She had a look of sympathy in her face, "Luke, I was just fooling around. I thought you might enjoy it." 

"Yeah?" Luke said matter-of-factly, "Well guess what?" He took her hand and guided it down to his growing hard-on, "I sure did." Leia gasped at this, and almost pulled away, but kept her hand there because the feeling was so good to her. She was desperately struggling not to look like a whore to Luke. Somehow she felt like he was such an innocent kid, and not used to a fully sensual woman. But here she was, holding and even slightly caressing his half-hard cock through his pants. The thought of sexual things with Luke wasn't even something she had considered until now, when it was staring her right in the face. Could she do it? Leia smiled as she considered the options... 

"The question is," he grabbed her attention again, "Do you enjoy it too?" And at that moment, there was nothing to stop Leia. It was all or nothing. 

She chose "all." 

Luke and Leia's faces seemed to move as one as they practically smashed into each other, smothering the other's mouths with deep, longing kisses. They hardly stopped for air. She moaned, licked her lips, and opened her mouth to him to invite his kiss again. He lifted her head toward his face, meeting her mouth with the hard urgency of desire. Her arms encircled his neck, and Leia crawled onto the bed and straddled his lags, taking note of the rock-hard pole between them. She pressed harder and deeper into his kiss, their tongues searching and their breath quickening. 

As the kiss slowed and deepened, Luke found himself emboldened by the situation and groped Leia's body through her white jumpsuit in all the places he always wanted to. Her legs, strong and feminine. Her perfectly shaped ass, plump, and well-formed. Her back, curving to his touch. And those delectable two breasts, large and supple. "These clothes are getting in the way," Luke complained. 

"Yes they are," Leia agreed. "Help me out here." And Luke was never happier to carry out her command. He started unzipping whatever he could find, while she pulled off her gloves and vest. Luckily it was just a one-piece item from there, and Leia pushed Luke's probing hands away while she sat up and slowly parted the "V" shaped top. He felt his lungs take in a sharp gulp of air as her magnificent tits were displayed in front of him. Even the very best plasti-cone breasts on the finest whore in the galaxy could not compare. 

They stood proudly, high up on her chest: two mounds of flesh, satisfying his desires; Perfect in Luke's tastes. The flawless jugs hung on her in two geometrically globe-like shapes, large and yielding. Yet not perfectly round, as they were just the way Luke liked them: with a very slight, perky tear-drop shape, curving invitingly up to a peak, where rested upon them two pinkish-brown nipples. Every movement she made caused them to gently sway erotically on her chest. Not too much, they weren't flabby. Not too little, they weren't fake... by the force, am I still dreaming? Luke thought. 

Luke couldn't stop his hands as they practically dove on top of each breast, mashing them, and rolling them in his palms. "Uhhhhngh, YES," Leia moaned. He wasn't gentle, or taking his time. No, this was rough, unbridled sexuality, pouring out of Luke. She certainly had inspired something inside him, she thought. His fingers and thumbs cupped the sides of her tits and grabbed them with an intensity that Leia savored and delighted in. She so loved her boobs being fondled she took up her own hands, and placed them over Luke's, accentuating the movement: encouraging him to be even rougher, and more playful with her. 

"Oh Luke, yes..." she groaned, feeling hot waves of sexual arousal flow through her body. Her tits grew even larger with excitement with their nipples hardening, and her pussy quivered with a new wetness that soaked through her jumpsuit. Luke placed his hands on her back with a little pressure, and getting the hint, Leia bent her torso towards his face. "Give me those things," he begged. She cupped her hands under her two succulent tits, and fed them to him, urging him on. "Fuck yes... Ooooh, suck on them, kiss them... bite my nipples," she encouraged. And Luke did just that. 

He did everything he possibly could do to those tits with his mouth. Every inch of each tender breast was licked, and chewed, and kissed. They were both covered with his saliva before long, glistening in their magnificence. And if his mouth wasn't working on one tit, Leia was sure to help herself by squeezing the other with her own hand. But this wasn't all Leia was up to. She knew that Luke wanted to enjoy her tits for a little while, and that was fine with her, but her pussy needed attention too. So she positioned her still-clothed cunt over his hardened cock, and with a grin of satisfaction she grinded herself up and down on it. 

"FUUUUUCK," they both moaned thickly at the new sensation. "God-damn, you have no idea how good that hard prick feels against my pussy," Leia whispered into his ear. 

"You think it feels good?" Luke replied between licks on her nipples, "My cock is feeling the biggest force disturbance of its life." And with that he forced his hips up against hers, grinding intensely against her wet sex. She responded equally, bringing her whole weight down upon that unbelievably delicious man-pole of his. The pressure between her pussy and his cock was incredible. 

"Oh Luke..." She gazed wantonly into his eyes. 

"Leia." And they met each other's lips again, and tasted the sweetness of their passion in a wet and feverous kiss. Leia opened her mouth and introduced him to her moist tongue, and he responded eagerly with his. 

And there, the two enjoyed each other, hips thrusting against the other, hands caressing soft flesh, tongues dancing in unison inside their mouths, and eyes ablaze with lust. 

-- 

"Fucking hyperdrive," Han kicked a servomotor inside his ship, the Millennium Falcon. His grievance was the same as every Rebel mechanic's on Hoth: It was just too damn cold for the machinery to adjust. Repulsor lifts barely worked, laser cannons sometimes shorted out, air flows for sub-light engines got frost in between their grills and blocked much needed cooling which ironically, made the turbo boosters overheat. It seemed to Han that the only thing that did work on this ice-block was Threepio. Damn protocol droid, he thought, I'd shake the hand of the guy who built him, just so he could work on my ship. 

After adjusting the ion flow a little and resetting the start-up power, Han tried the status switch, which would tell him in how good a condition the hyperdrive would be to start.Orange. "Severe Threat Condition." The threat probably being too little panametric ion flow to the flux capacitors. But of course he couldn't increase that anymore because needed it for the sub-light engines! "FUCKING HYPERDRIVE!" He threw the hydrospanner he was holding against the control console. 




The Healing Touch



A growl from Chewbacca, his first mate, made him recompose himself. "Chewie, let's face it pal, unless we get parts from off-world, this bucket of bolts isn't going anywhere." Chewie clapped him on the shoulder, and cracked a joke at which the Wookie howled with laughter. "Ohh that's right, I forgot," Han said in mock seriousness, "This is the ship that made the Kessel Run in less than 12 parsecs." 

He did have to laugh at this. The "parsecs" line was one of his better ones, he had to agree. He often used it on novice space travelers, who wanted to know if his ship was fast. If they bought the BS claim about parsecs being a measurement of time, not space, he overcharged them on the fare. He even used it on that old Jedi, Ben Kenobi. Of course, he suspected the old man knew better, but took the price anyway. That was back when he met Luke... Luke the farm boy. 

Now that farm boy was a general in the Rebel Alliance. His title may have changed, but he was still the same kid to Han. And though he might not admit it openly, he had a real fondness for Luke. This latest episode had given Han a considerable scare. After seeing him in the bacta tank, Han just needed to get away from it, and the best way to keep his mind off things was always working on the ship he loved (and at this moment, hated) so much. Besides, right now Luke was probably going through more examinations by the med-droids... hardly something Han wanted to sit around and wait for. Still, he thought, I hope he's getting the proper care and attention he needs... 

-- 

"FUCK YEAH, that's what I need," Luke hissed as he and Leia continued to stimulate each other through their clothes. By now Luke couldn't get any bigger, or harder. This Princess had turned him on so much that he didn't think he had ever been this huge in his life, and he was growing eager to show her his manhood. "Well Leia, you've certainly turned my lightsaber on, but do you know how to use it?" She smiled and licked her lips, "Didn't you know I can use the force too?" Luke acted surprised for a moment, but then they both laughed as he realized the jest. However the two of them were in for an even bigger surprise, though neither knew it. 

"Let's get these pants off this stud," Leia growled as she slid off the cot, and wrapped her fingers around the top of his elastic waistband. The swelling mound of Luke's crotch was like a mountain rising out of his pants, and she couldn't be more pleased with it. With a quick tug, she pulled down, eagerly awaiting the unveiling of his cock. Unfortunately she only got the backside of his pants around his ass. She stared in amazement as his bulging erection stopped his pants short! More determined now, she yanked with more force, and his pants finally slid down his legs. As soon as they cleared his length, the long meat shaft swung upwards in a huge arc towards his stomach with such velocity that the gathering deposit of pre-cum on the head was catapulted off onto Leia's tits, spattering clear sticky drops on her chest. 

"HOLY FUCK!" they both exclaimed at once. What laid between Luke's legs now and resting on his stomach, was a monster of a fuck organ. 

"Luke..." Leia managed, "I can't believe..." The huge thundering prick was alive, twitching and purplish, the head swollen and shiny with cum. 

He shook his head in agreement, "Neither can I!" She asked him what he meant. "Well up until today my dick has always been around 6 inches, not almost a foot and as thick as mylightsaber! What in the rings of Tarsil..." 

"Sir, a side effect of bacta-healing can be extra-tissue growth in concentrated areas—" 

"TOO-ONEBEE!" They both turned and exclaimed at once. 

The droid was still in the room, fully operational, and still monitoring Luke's recovery. The two of them had completely forgotten about him in the corner. Leia scrambled over and quickly deactivated his power, shutting him down. The sudden awareness of the situation made the two lovers glance around the room for other such "dangers." Thankfully there weren't any security cams in the med-center, but Leia still dimmed the lights, just in case. Then she went over to the door, and punched in a code in the security panel which made a "MED-DROIDS BUSY: NO ENTRANCE" signal glow on the other side, effectively canceling any chance that someone might barge in. It was a high offense to interrupt the healing process without authorization... especially one like this. 

"Now," Leia cooed as she sauntered over to the bed, breasts swaying with her gait, some of the pre-cum on her skin dripping on the floor, "Where were we?" Luke smiled appreciatively, rubbing his cock up and down. She reached her arm out and mimicked his movements with her hand, much to his delight. His rod was so thick her small delicate fingers couldn't even reach all the way around it. "I think Too-Onebee was right," Luke observed, "the bacta in the tank must have sought out all areas that could be improved on my body... thank the force my dick's huge now!" 

"Not just that Luke..." Leia gasped as she cupped his two massive balls in her other hand, "I bet these have a hefty load inside them." She bent her head down, and seductively lifted one up on her tongue, teasing him with the tip of it. And letting it slide away took the other up and popped it in her mouth. Leia savored the fresh taste of his ball sack in her mouth and she eagerly rolled her tongue around, kneading him, and sucking it in. She alternated each ball as her hand squeezed his upper shaft. 

The feeling was electric to Luke, the simultaneous sensation of his cock getting a hand job, and each of his testicles getting a fantastic bath in Leia's saliva, along with an erotic tongue massage. She expertly curled her magical tongue around his balls and licked them in a "come hither" motion, making him groan. And when she rolled her tongue over the top of his balls, back and forth, her lower lip slipped under his entire cum bag, softly caressing them from underneath. 

"Fucking god, Leia. You don't know what you're doing to me..." Luke moaned. A man could only take so much foreplay before his balls started to rise, and prepare to shoot out their sticky contents. "Am I gonna make you cum?" She murmured with one ball in her mouth, her hand starting to jack him off faster and harder. "You have no idea, trust me," he managed between quick short breaths. The blood was rising so quickly, the sensation was overwhelming. 

The princess smiled in expectancy and groaned around his scrotum. Her nose was buried in the soft under skin, giving her aromas of his deep musk and sexuality. She knew he was close and wanting to experience a man's climax from "the other end", she wrapped one, then both cum-heavy testicles in her loving mouth. As she squeezed harder on his shaft, increasing speed, her lips sucked wantonly on his entire sack. The young man's balls churned in pleasure inside her oral cavity, her sucking and licking tongue beckoned forth their enormous contents.

"Sweet FUCK!" Luke cried. He had tried to hold off and give Leia a fair warning, but she was just too good for him. He had to let it all go. His nuts clenched up and his huge fuck pole gave a mighty pulse that catapulted 2 long streams of cum out onto his belly. Leia was taken by surprise, but immediately scooted up and wrapped her sweet lips around his cock head, furiously beating his shaft up and down with her hand. "Take it all Leia!" 

And that she did. His cock still wildly shuddered in her mouth as it poured its voluptuous discharge into her oral cavity. Cum splashed against her cheeks, throat, the roof of her mouth and tongue, effectively soaking everything she wanted with that lovely white fluid, making her mew with pleasure as she first tasted his jizz. 

Further extenuating his orgasm, he flicked her tongue as fast as she could directly under his piss-slit. The tip of her tongue of course caught his spewing eruptions of cream, and redirected it all over the inside of her mouth again in thick bursts of drops. 

"Ahhh, drink my fucking load!" Luke bellowed. And he didn't even need to ask, already the amount of jism in her mouth was more than her cheeks could contain she just let her throat open up and let it all trickle down into her stomach. This feeling of course was highly arousing to Leia, in addition to the addicting taste that she loved so much. 

Amazingly Luke's cock was still jerking, shooting short yet powerful bursts so she aimed in the cavity underneath her tongue, in order to store the extra cum for obvious reasons. She simply couldn't savor enough that spunky, thick cream that came out of men's cum sacks. It was better than the most delicately prepared Alderaani fruit jam-dessert in her opinion. 

"That's right, taste my cum. Roll it around." Luke commanded, as the last few streams of cum were ejected out of his cock head. 

Moaning, Leia nodded her head in agreement as she gathered every drop that wasn't already down her throat, and swished it back and forth on her tongue. With the tip of his rod still suctioned in her mouth with her lips, she took up the large deposit of spunk on the palate of her tongue and bathed him with it. Covering his head with white, sticky cum, and sucking it back off. Submersing with cum, and licking it off again. And again. And again. And again. 

She was effectively marinating his prick head with his own cum, mixing both the flavor of his jism with the sweatiness of his meat. Leia couldn't be happier with the result as she spent a good minute at this "cooking." Tasting his semen on her tongue made her eyes roll back with unimaginable pleasure, "Mmmm, hmmmmm." 

Then taking a few final laps around her mouth with her tongue, making sure she had completely tasted his cum load to its full enjoyment, she tipped her head back and guzzled every last drop into her belly with a lust-filled sigh. 

"Good girl," Luke laughed, "But I think you missed something." He was right, there was still a good amount on his stomach from the start of his orgasm, and Leia squealed with delight at this. She peppered his belly with kisses, each time using a little suction around her lips to suck up the cum. After a few of these, and some long licks off his skin, just to make sure she got it all, Leia swallowed the rest with great pleasure. "Mmmm... god, Luke. Your cum tastes SO good," she licked her lips, "That was such a huge load..." 

Luke loved every moment of this, but his smile lessened, then faded away as Leia licked his wilting prick. She noticed this. "Luke? What's wrong?" 

He shrugged, "Oh nothing." 
"No please, tell me." And Luke hesitated about what he wanted to say, then decided to go for it. 
"Leia, I'm just... I'm sorry that I came so soon. It happened all so fast..." 
"Oh Luke, you know that I loved--"

"--No Leia, listen. I wanted to do so much more with you. I wanted to jerk off and cum all over your beautiful face. I wanted to give you another load to swallow. I wanted to ram my whole shaft up your cunt, to make you come hard on me... but... now my balls are empty. And they're gonna be that way for a while, until I can get my dick back up. And I don't know how long we can be in here alone.... I've, I've failed you, Leia." 

The princess welled with emotion and was taken aback at Luke's honesty and caring for her. She reached up to stroke his face with the back of her hand, a look of deep sympathy on her face, "No. No Luke, you haven't. You are so sweet, and I want all those wonderful things too," she sighed as she hugged him and placed her head on his chest, "...but who says you can't go again right away?" 

"What do you--" he trailed off, confused. 
"The force Luke. Can't you use the force?" 

Luke considered this for a moment. The force? As crazy as it sounded, could Leia be right? He recalled one of old Ben's lessons on the trip he took from Tatooine to Alderaan: "Be aware of the force. Be aware of yourself... One balances the other. When one lacks, the other gives... If you are ever in need of strength and repair, call upon the force and use it as an asset... The force has healing powers... Stretch out with your feelings, and you can mend your body... Use it well."

"By the force, old Ben..." Luke muttered, "I think I know what you were talking about" And with his eyes closed, and his awareness increased, he reached out into the vastness of the force around him. Even on the harsh ice world of Hoth, in the cold med-center of the Rebel Alliance, the force abounded... especially around Leia, he noticed. He became aware of the thousands of beings in the base, hard at work, the many tauntauns, the wampas in captivity, the scurrying snowmice, and even the iceworms... all projecting the very life-essence of the force. But this was all dim pin points of light, compared to the brightness that was Leia and himself. 

Fully submersed in the force, Luke then concentrated his entire mind on himself, scanning his body for weakness. The bacta of course had done their job, healing him of topical wounds... but he had just spent everything he had in his cum sack, and already with Leia stimulating his cock with soft kisses, they were beginning to whine with exhaustion. This was what he needed the force for. This was his weakness. 

With the full power of the force in him, Luke rushed all his healing ability, full-power into the concentrated area of his balls. The room seemed to come alive, and green, with energy abounding. The powerful streams of the force honed in on him, and entered his sack, working magic immediately. 

"Shiiiit, Luke..." Leia gasped. She too felt something around her, though she didn't know why. And that wasn't the only thing she felt. In her hands, Luke's cock and balls were already expanding again! The smiled with delight, "That's it baby, make some more cum for me." 

And when he had used every resource he had, Luke finally stopped the flow of the force around his cock, and he opened his eyes. His fuck unit was up and ready to go again! And there was beautiful Leia, so excited she was wantonly kissing his balls with lust once more. "Leia, it worked! It really worked!" he stroked her hair, "I'm back!" 

And she looked up at him with love in her eyes, one of his balls falling from her lips, "Now what were you saying about cumming all over my face?" 

-- 

R2-D2, scuttled along the icy corridors of the Rebel base, accompanied by C-3PO. With nothing else to do, the little astromech's sensors had overloaded with worry for his master. He rolled along, tootling and beeping his concerns to the protocol droid. 

"My sad little friend, if medical droids had needed our help, they would have asked for it, hm?" Threepio reassured him. Artoo burbled an argument back. 

"Why, how dare you suggest such a thing? I am just as concerned about master Luke's safety as you are. And besides, I need to get to a heating station. My joints are freezing up!" 

Threepio got nothing but a sarcastic response from Artoo in the form of a few tweets, and beeps. 

"Of course I said the same thing on Tatooine! My joints were freezing up on that dreadful, hot planet as well. Goodness, I don't see the contradiction at all!" 

-- 

"Get up here Leia. Get on your knees," Luke commanded the young topless woman. And Leia did so with a great amount of glee and relish. A man cumming was no doubt her favorite part of sex. It was so arousing and sensual to make him groan with pleasure and get his cock to strain with all its might until finally that glorious moment when it burst forth great streams of semen, squirting erotically wherever he wanted them to. And right now he wanted to bathe her face with that precious liquid. Leia could hardly wait. 

Luke stood up and faced Leia, taking her hair in one hand, and jerked his cock inches away from her face. She could hear him moan and groan with pleasure, and the quick beating on his hand on his shaft. The mere sight of Princess Leia sitting there with her tits jutting out, her beaming face upturned, waiting for it to be covered with his jism was getting him off very quickly. Leia could sense this exactly. Well, if he thinks this is something he can jack off to, he hasn't seen nothing yet. 

"Oh Luke, I need you to cum. I need your hot cum all over my face. Please Luke..." she moaned. 

Luke opened his eyes and realized what she was doing and grinned ear to ear. "That's right Leia, tell me how much you want it you dirty slut." 

"Fuck, Luke... I love how hard your cock gets, the way it pulses." She stuck her tongue out, and ran it along the underside of his shaft, "Mmmm. That's the barrel to the cum cannon isn't it? Ohh I want it to fill up with your jizz and blast it all over me. Those shots of warm seed hitting me in the face would be so wonderful..." 

"Uuuungh," Luke breathed. And he took his cock and while still beating it off, rubbed it on her face. She loved the sensation, "Oh yes, YES. Rub that cock head on me. It's so hot and hard... it's ready to blast isn't it? God how I want it to explode..." 

"Yeah? Well it's gonna real soon, don't worry. Tell me more Leia, tell me more..." She groaned and licked her lips, realizing her very words were going to make Luke cum. 

"Oh you fucking stud! I just want you to unload everything you've got in those big balls, and cover me with your cream! I need it so bad, SO BAD, Luke. Hit me with every shot. Ooooh. You better give me so much cum that every inch of my face is covered. FUCK yessss..." 

"Why do you need my cream Leia?" he offered.

"Mmmm..." she took a longing suck on the tip of his cock, "you know why... Because I'm so thirsty. And only you and your big fucking load can satisfy me. I'm gonna let you unload all over my face, and then when you're done I'll scoop every last drop into my mouth and guzzle it down. But not before I taste it real good on my tongue. FUCK your cum tastes good Luke..." 

"Ohhhh shhit I'm almost there! I'm gonna shoot soon!" 

"Give me your load Luke! Give me that big fucking load of jizz, and cover me with it! I need that white junk sticking to my face, and running down my cheeks. Oh God, I want that cum SO BAD! Please, PLEASE let me taste it! Shoot it all over, shoot everything! I need it!" She grabbed his ass and urged him one putting her face in the direct line of fire, "Fucking CUM Luke! Cum for me! CUM FOR ME!" 

"FUCKING FORCE HERE I COME!" Luke squeezed hard and aimed his pecker at Leia's face. And then the fun really began. 

A massive first blast of cum landed all over Leia's lips and mouth, and the following shots he aimed higher up on her face, her nose, and forehead. "Shots" is a word used in a loose sense because what was really pouring out of Luke's cock was more like a constant river of a long jizz rope, slowing between jerks, then gushing full-force again and again. The seemingly unending discharge of cum was covering Leia, one thick white line at a time. She of course kept her eyes open as a long as she could. This was a show she didn't want to miss: A veritable fountain of cum exploding in her face? It was a must see. "AHHHH YES! MORE CUM!" 

"Ahhh take my jizz you fucking whore..." Luke continued to blast unimaginable amounts of cum on Leia, who cooed appreciatively, thankful of his words and the enormous gift that he was pouring on her face. A few traces of skin were still visible still, but Luke took care of that. His fuck rod was practically a gun he could aim and shoot at this point, so he just continued to jerk, and the long streams of semen plastered Leia's face. He even aimed at Leia's open eyes, and the cum hit her directly in the pupils, making her wince and giggle. 

"Luke! Yes shoot more cum! That isn't enough for me!" she encouraged, "Cream my fucking face. I want that load..." The shower of cum was still going on and Luke was running out of places to cover her with. He took his massive prick and began to squeeze some more jizz all over her tits. Leia felt this and laughed through her cum mask. "That's right, I want my boobs covered with your cream." She lifted both tits up towards him, like a dinner plate, waiting for the main course, "Fucking jack off all over my big titties Luke!" 




The Healing Touch



The bursts of splooge weren't thick ropes now so much as they were a veritable rain shower of thick cum droplets, spraying Leia's voluptuous rack like a hail storm. She could even hear over the sound of Luke's hand furiously jacking his schlong, the large globs of jizz hitting her tits with tiny smacks. The increasing pools of white syrup started to trickle down and gather under her hands, and drip off the ends of her nipples. "There's your cum load baby, all over your big jugs," Luke admired what he saw. 

After almost a minute of that boob-bukakke, the spurts slowed and shortened, trickling rivulets of cum out the end of his cock, which he let drop onto her face again. "Mmmmm," Leia moaned, "So much CUM... God I love it." She reached out blindly towards his cock and found it with her hand and took over jerking duties. "Yesssss, jerk my fucking cock," Luke hissed. And after a few erotic pumps, Leia found a new use for his now extinguished cum-rocket. 

"I want to taste this hot cum Luke... I need to swallow it," Leia whispered with lust, and she took his fuck rod and started to wipe her face with it, starting with her jaw and her chin. The large deposits of cum that were running down like a slow waterfall gathered on his shaft and she brought it up to her mouth, sticking out her tongue and licking up the jizz with a moan of pleasure. "Mmmmm, so good." 

Again and again, his meat was brought up to her waiting lips, bearing so much cum Leia could almost slurp it up like milk. "That's right, there you go... lap up my cum like the dirty slut you are..." Luke urged her through his teeth. She giggled through the splooge. Leia enjoyed a good dirty name-calling. She knew Luke was only showing her his deepest affection. 

After getting her lower face mostly cleaned (which took a considerable amount of time) she used the head of his cock, which was just the right size for her eye sockets, and scooped the pools of cum into her open mouth, after which she opened her eyes again and winked at Luke with a smile, "Yummy." 

He laughed, "You love the baby-batter don't you?" 
"Can't get enough," she sighed, lovingly sucking on the head of his pecker. 

"Well you're getting nowhere in a hurry, and I want to fuck you hard, so eat the rest as quick as you can," Luke suggested. And Leia nodded in total agreement. Not only did she want to get more of this incredibly good-tasting load in her stomach, she needed to feel that huge prick in her cunt. 

She took both hands and scraped the rest of the sperm lake off her forehead and other parts of her face, and shoved her cum dripping fingers in her mouth to suck on. All of this was swallowed with delight of course. Then was the wonderful task of cleaning her breasts off, and thankfully, because her knockers were so large, she just lifted them up and lapped up the layer of cum like a feline nexu. Luke loved the sight of this, "Suck my jizz off those nipples." 

She did this with ease, mewing as the sensation of tasting her own cum-flavored tits, and swirling the hot liquid around on her tongue before swigging it down her throat. "Mmmmm, oh Luke," Leia gasped with appreciation, licking the last deposits of cum off her palms, "Your jizz loads are SO fucking GOOD. I want to drink you all day." 

Luke laughed, "Maybe someday you will." She smiled and kissed and sucked his softening cock, hanging low between his legs. Luke wanting to kiss her, reached over to the bedside, and pulled out one of the hydro-towels, which was kept warm and wet with moisture for medical purposes. She appreciatively took it from him and wiped the remaining traces of cum that were cooling on her face and breasts. The towel rejuvenated her skin, and in Luke's opinion, made her look more beautiful than ever. 

She noticed him staring, and she laughed softly, blushing. Luke knelt down to meet her eye level, and touched her forehead with his. They both quietly breathed, mouths inches away from one another. It was in this moment of silence that they felt closest. His hand stroked her hair. Her fingers trailed along his chest. They rhythmically moved their heads together, caressing cheek upon cheek, almost as one. Luke would occasionally dip down and peck her neck with warm kisses. Leia would respond by leaning forward and giving his ear an erotic nibble. 

The tension was unbearable, yet incredibly enjoyable. Neither wanted to continue. Neither wanted to stop. Hands traveled aimlessly all over flesh. She petted his golden locks, and he felt her smooth stomach. She licked his fingers; he cupped her breasts, gently rolling them in his palms. She reached around and gripped his ass while he bit lovingly into her shoulder. The only sounds were their soft moans of pleasure and want. 

And then, without a word they both stopped. Eyes locked, searching for the next move. Communicating some secret language neither could speak, but both understood. Luke concentrated, searching his feelings. Looking deep down into himself, he closed his eyes and drew out his desires... using the force, his thoughts projected out to the princess... 

Leia... I want you so much... 

She let out a noiseless gasp. Did I just hear...? 

You are so beautiful Leia... you don't know how much I adore your amazing body... She smiled with an open mouth at what she was "hearing" in her head. 

How I want to see all of you... You must be even more incredible completely naked... 

Leia sighed, realizing what her lover wanted. And then she wondered if he could hear her as well... 

Leia... hear me... tell me what you want... And Leia closed her eyes too. Falling into a deeper consciousness... or something. She didn't know. But whatever it was, it was something she had never experienced before. Luke's thoughts became clearer, hers became more defined. She could hear him as if he was talking to her face-to-face. 

Tell me what you want, Leia... 

She heard him. Reaching into her mind, and listening to her heart, she brought her desires to the surface, and "spoke" them in her mind. She replied to him with the most honest answer she had: 

FUCK ME. 

In an instant they opened their eyes, and they were flying once more. Hard passionate kisses erupted between their lips, scraping their mouths together in a wild love fest. Tongues flicked against each other, sharing an improvised dance inside their heated mouths. A blinding light of passion was being shared between them like the galaxy had never seen. 

Luke weakened and fell back against the upraised end of his cot, and Leia compensated by leaning forward and crawling on top of him. Her tits hung down from her chest now, still as perfectly shaped as ever, and Luke fondled them aggressively in his hands, never tiring of her perfect melons. But she wanted to fulfill his request from earlier. 

Leia placed his hands down her jumpsuit, and rested them on her lovely round ass. He eagerly felt every inch of her soft cheeks; her skin was as smooth as Dramassian silk. Then, getting the idea, he scooted his arms forward, pulling her pants down her hips with his wrists. He continued to stroke her curvaceous legs down her ankles as she wriggled he waist to help him get her clothes off. 

When she playfully flicked the suit off her feet, he pulled away from their kiss to take in an eyeful. She leaned back to show him her nakedness. And he was not disappointed. Just like a true rebel slut, she wore no panties, reveling her soft mound to his lustful gaze. She was trimmed of course, having shaved all but a small triangle shaped trail pointing to her clit. Leia's luscious pussy dripped and glistened with arousal juices, and she slowly and sensually spread her fingers from both hands down her taut torso, down her to her sex. 

"Yes, Leia... rub your pussy for me," Luke gasped as he stroked his own cock to hardness. Already he was reaching into the force to once more fill his sack with more cum. This mutual masturbation by both of them was highly erotic, and quickened their arousal. "Mmmm, get that cock nice and rock hard, Luke..." Leia said as she slowly squeezed a finger inside her mound. "I'm so ready to sit on you, and take your whole length inside me." 

"Fuck, I love watching you finger yourself... do you like your finger inside you?" Luke questioned. 
"Mmmm, yes, but it's not enough... I need something more..." she whined, closing her eyes, imagining her desires. 
"Something thick?" 
"Oooh yes..." 
"Something long?" 
"Oh hell yes..." 
"Something hot, and pulsing, and filled with a huge load of cum?" 
"FUCK YES!" 

Luke took her hand away from her pussy, "Then sit on this big mother-fucking prick baby!" And Leia gasped with delight and opened her eyes to see Luke's engorged cock pointing straight up like a Coruscant skyscraper, and his enormous cum sack hanging erotically between his slightly parted legs. She scooted up towards him, placing one hand on his chest, and the other on the bed, and lined her ass up with his thighs. "Guide that rod inside me," she whispered in his ear. "My pleasure," he obeyed, gripping it, and prepared for the moment he had pictured so many times in his dreams. 

The heated, red head of Luke's cock grazed Leia's pussy lips, becoming wet with her copious cunnie juices. Leia allowed herself one ever so small moment of sexual teasing by keeping her hips just high enough to rub herself on his cock-tip. At one point, his piss hole lined up with her engorged clitoris, making her gasp with shock at the feeling. But enough was enough. Time to ride this fuck pole like there was no tomorrow. 

She sank, deep, deep down onto his cock. Her moist juices overflowed onto his shaft, lubricating his entry. 

"Oh my fucking GOD you are huge, Luke!" she groaned, enveloping his length with her tightness. Leia thrust her ass downward and drove her tight, wet pussy-hole all the way down the full length of Luke's throbbing cock. She ground her pelvic bone against the boy's firm, muscular body, feeling his balls mashing against the lower part of her cunt lips. 

The princess had never been this hot before. As Luke began to slowly grind his hips, moving his ass in lewd circles below her, Leia began to pump her cunt up and down on his huge cock, clenching and unclenching her tight cunt-walls as tightly as she could around his thick, hard prick. 

"Yes! Fuck yeah, Leia, squeeze your little pussy around my dick!" Luke yelled. 

"Mmmm, you got it, baby," Leia mewed with pleasure, exercising her inner pussy muscles around his rock hard cock. The natural ridges of his dick, and his enormous head stimulated all the pleasure areas of her cunt, producing incredible amounts of lubrication, helping him fuck her tightness. 

Leia leaned forward and kissed him hard. Luke could feel the woman's huge tits pressing against his muscular chest and it turned him on even more as he continued to pump his cock deeply into her hot, grasping pussy. In all his adventures on Tatooine he had never known a girl who could squeeze her cunt-muscles so tightly around his prick. It nearly drove him mad with lust. 

"Is my pussy nice and tight for you, Luke?" Leia gasped between kisses and fucking his pole. 

"So tight... so wet..." he grabbed and slapped her ass playfully, "My big fucking prick loves your hot cunt." 

"Oooooh, and my cunt loves your prick!" she whined with new waves of pleasure, "Ahhhhh!" 

He tried to slow his thrusting movements because he still wanted to fuck her slowly so she would enjoy it all the more. But Leia wanted none of that. The way she was pumping her cunt up and down on his rigidly fucking cock-pole, he had no choice but to keep pace with her. After all, he told himself, he could hold back only so much. 

Again and again, Luke stabbed his prick into her cunt, matching the fucking rhythm of Leia's grinding pussy. It was as though she was fucking--even raping—him. And he loved the lewd sensation. 

Her ass shook under the impact of his prick. Her cunt-walls burned and tightened with the hot wet pleasure she felt from his driving prick. He was ramming it in and out, in and out, deeper and harder with each forceful thrust into her pussy-hole. The enormous shaft of his love meat seemed like it was splitting her in two. "FUCK! You're so huge, Luke... fuck me!" 

Luke obliged her, and picked the pace up even more. Keeping her hips stationary above the bed he rammed himself inside her wetness with a ferocity that made Leia scream with pleasure. He lifted his ass up and down so quickly, the loud sounds of "thump-thump-thump" reached Leia's eager ears. Luke was having the ride of his life, and grabbed her Legs to hold on tight. 

"Ahhhh! Luke, you're killing me! FUCK!" Leia shrieked. She bit into his neck, fanning the flames of passion in her cock-stuffed pussy. Each time he plowed his full length into her wet fuck-hole, the base of his meat hit her engorged, sensitive clit. The sensation of being completely filled with this man, and the throbbing pleasures of her clit drove her wild. 

Luke of course, was having the most difficult time of his life not unloading his cum right then and there. Her pussy squeezed and tightened around his shaft, almost urging the flood of semen inside of him to be unleashed. She was so incredibly small and tight that it was almost difficult to force himself up into her. It felt like he was practically ripping her cunt open to make a bigger hole. His heart was beating, hoping that pussy would not become a scar. 

As he fucked her harshly, his ball sack whipped up and slapped the underside of her ass, heavy with cum. "Gods Leia, you make me want to cum SO bad..." Luke whined. 

"Well why didn't you say so, you big horny stud?" Leia grinned, and she plopped her ass straight down on his fuck-pole, grinding herself around in a circular motion and creating the most unbelievable sensation to Luke's cock. "Cum inside me, big boy." 

That was all the encouragement he needed. 

His enormous balls that were tingling with excitement were now on fire, churning with the biggest load of his life. They clenched together and rose toward his shaft, preparing for the big release. Leia's cunt squeezed and trembled around his cock, "Fucking force, shoot your load, Luke! Pour it all into me!" she pleaded. 

"FUCK! HERE I COOOOME!" his cock gave one last twitch, and then like the ion cannon that was outside defending the base, he started to blast Leia. 

A huge concentrated shot of cum rocketed from his prick, then another, then another, then another. Each one being heralded by a great throbbing pulse by his member, each making his enormous head seem to swell even more. Globs of cum burned into the hot pussy he was fucking, coating it in whiteness. 

"AHHHHH, YES!" Leia wailed, grinding her cunt as far down as she could on his pecker. "MORE CUM!" And her wish was granted as volumes of sperm continued to spew from his cock, washing her inner pussy with the wonderful splooge liquid. 

"Take my cum load! Take it inside you!" Luke shouted through his teeth. "You like my fucking cum?!" 

"Gods I LOVE cum inside me! So gooooooood!" She screamed as even more bursts of jizz filled her up, hitting her in all the right places inside her cunnie. She continued to squeeze, and make her pussy as tight as possible for Luke, making his load bigger, and getter her own self closer to orgasm. 

Luke's fuck-rod was pouring the cum into her cunt which quivered under the assault. He continued to thrust deep inside her, forcing even the very base of his shaft past her pussy lips. She could feel him deep, deep inside her belly, giving her all the cum she ever wanted. 

"Oooooh Luke, keep cumming!" she gasped, nearly fainting. "Almost there.... Almost THERE...." But unfortunately for her, Luke's orgasm was beginning to die down. Now after almost entirely filled up her insides with jizz, his cock only gave a few final twitches, and a couple last spurts of cum. 
"Luke! What's happening?" she groaned in desperation. "What happened to all those lovely shots of cum?" 

And Luke, realizing his situation and wanting to get Leia off on his own orgasm, did the only thing he knew would solve the problem. Without even breaking stride with his thrusts, he reached into the force and brought its full power into himself, and into his balls. The living force filled his cum sack in seconds now, as Luke was becoming proficient at this technique. 

"Fuck yeah! You ready for some more cum?!" Luke grinned at her. 

"Yesssss! MORE CUM! FILL ME UP! POUR IT ALL INTO ME!" Leia screamed, close to her orgasm. Only the slightest shot of jizz would set her off. 

Luke, smiling with glee, prepared for yet another tremendous orgasm, mere seconds after the previous one. His hips slammed forcefully into her, arousing the both of them to new heights of pleasure, and ever closer to cumming. Luke couldn't wait to once more filler her up with his seed. Holy banthashit, I could get used to this Force thing! 

"Oh Luke, yes! YES! Please fill me up with your cum!" Leia groaned. Her pussy ached, so close to the verge of orgasm. The walls of her vagina quivered. The juices of her cunnie increased. "Ahhhh, my pussy needs your jizz!" 

"You want my thick, creamy load inside your cunt?" 

"YES!!" 

"Then here's your fucking load you whore!" Luke drove his entire man meat inside her, and exploded his new fountain of love-seed, burning new sensations inside her trembling womb. 

"FUUUUUUUCK! THAT'S IT, I'M CUMMING TOO!" Leia shrieked, an intense orgasm overtaking her entire body. Shakes wracked her beautiful form, making her lose control. Explosions of light. Fireworks. Her mind went stark-blank as her limbs and torso shook from a seizure-like orgasm, making her breasts jiggle. 

The copious amounts of cum bursting from Luke's prick were a veritable volcano of jizz inside her womb. Of course he had left a sizable deposit that was still inside her, and with her cunt filled to the brim, the cum load he was giving to her had no place to go except to spew out her pussy lips. 

"Fuck yeah, you're getting all my cum!" Luke laughed as a waterfall of splooge came out of her and trickled lewdly around his cock, lubricating him all the more. The scene was hot, sexual, and extremely arousing to Luke. Pouring so much cum into a woman that she can't hold it all? Now this was the life. 

More of the white sticky load shot deep inside her cunt, mixing with the existing cum, and Leia's own orgasm honey. Leia was at this point screaming incoherent obscenities in his face, urging him on, furthering their orgasms. And Luke was desperately pumping his prick dry of his sex-cream. He bent forward and took her huge breasts in his mouth. 

While Luke continued to explode inside her, he suckled on her hot tits. Leia loved this and leaned her entire torso weight on his face, feeding him her boobs. She reached down and scooped the gathering pools of cum gathering on the bed and washed her pussy lips with it. 

"Oooooh FUCK! There's so much cum! YES, Luke! YES!" 

Luke moaned and sighed around her breasts, slowly thrusting now, savoring the last moments of his orgasm. His cock head pumped lazy streams inside Leia now, throbbing with exhaustion. The jizz still oozed out of her pussy, aided by the motions of his prick fucking her. His balls started to drop again, their duty fulfilled. 

"Ahhhhh yes.... Mmmm, I think I just poured a gallon of cum inside you Leia," Luke smiled. 

Leia returned the smile with an exhausted sigh, "Yes. Yes you did." She brought her cum stained hand to her lips and lewdly sucked up more of the delightful liquid into her stomach. Luke leaned back and closed his eyes, a look of bliss on his face. Leia laid her head on his chest, and softly circled his softening cock with her pussy, getting the most of these last moments.