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Unknown

By: PrincessErin



Power of balance. Good versus evil. That was the last thing I was thinking of when my car broke down on the dusty dark road. My mind was racing with all the thoughts that go through your head when you know that you have not made the right decisions. My cell phone was on the table in the front hallway. My purse was locked in the glove compartment and the key for said compartment was on the key chain next to my cell phone.

My car died quickly and without effort or pain. If this was a pet I would have been happy that it did not suffer. I'm not sure if cars have feelings but either way my car was dead. The innards of the engine seized up and it went from cruising at a nice eighty kilometres an hour to nothing. 

I sat in my car and waited until the clicking and humming stopped. It was silent. My car was dead and I actually had no idea where I was. Well I did a bit. I had just dropped off my best friend at the airport so knew I was in the north end of town. Instead of hopping back on the highway that stretched east to west I had chosen instead to take a side road that went south. It was on this road that my car decided it was no more.

As I got out of the car I realized how hot it was outside. Even though it was almost the end of October the air was hot and dry. It was the type of dryness that would require a lot of water if I were running in it. I wasn't though and I was happy my brain reminded myself of this fact. I was a runner. I could run fast and far for long periods.

My heart leapt out of my chest as I saw a figure sitting on the side of the road in front of me. My brain knew that running away was best but I made another bad decision. I didn't run.

"Your car is dead. You should listen to your mechanic when he says to get regular oil chances."

His voice was quiet and deep. Even though he was scolding me like a child I felt comfortable with what he was saying. I stood still which gave him an indication to continue talking.

"You're blonde. I bet you don't have a cell phone right?"

I nodded in agreement. I was ashamed that he was telling the truth. I didn't even notice that he had insulted me. I was proud of my blonde locks and vowed that if there ever came a time that my hair turned grey or white; I'd pay a small fortune to have the same golden shade.

"I'm selling something that will help you with your situation. You might not want it but you'd be foolish to say no. Considering your current list of bad decisions, I'd say you should accept my offer."

I looked at him and squinted my eyes. The sun was setting at an angle where the glare was intense. Although at first I thought he was an older gentleman he now looked much younger. His clothing was dark and dignified. Part of my brain was grasping to remind me how odd it was that a man was randomly standing on the side of a dirt road dressed as if he was a high-class businessman. As always I ignored my conscience.

"What are you offering?"

He smiled as he heard my voice. It was almost like a light went off in his head and his assumptions were correct. He smiled wide and showed off his dark yellow teeth. There were none missing but clearly those teeth were that of an older gentleman.

"A compromise of sorts. We all want something in life. Sometimes we get what we want and sometimes we only get what we need. Sheryl Crow sang a song about that. I think the line said 'It's not having what you want, it's wanting what you've got.' In any case you've wanted something for a long time and in return for something I've wanted for a long time I am here to make a deal."

"Excuse me?"

I didn't mean to sound so snotty but when I'm caught off guard my true colours show. 

"I can get your car fixed and you can go along your merry way. In return you do something for me."

"What?"

He smiled such an innocent smile that he looked to be a little boy asking for some more candy. I shivered but let him answer. I had forgotten about everything weird and creepy going on at the moment. I just wanted to know what I had to give him.

"Quit your job. You've been spoiled for way too long Elly. You need to feel what it's like to be at the end of your rope and so desperate you'd do anything."

The neurons in my brain were at lightening speed and my brain flashed with different scenes. Every scene reminded me of one thing -- he was right. I was spoiled. I did get what I wanted. I had worked hard for my job although no one needed to know it was by being on my knees as opposed to my intelligence. I was never going to be desperate and he had no control over me.

"Fuck off!'

I spun around and rushed to my car. The heat was sweltering and my thin blouse was sticking to my back. I opened my car door but he slammed it shut just as fast. He was so close to me and I could smell the decay around him. I tried not to breath through my nose but when I took a deep breath the dry air make me hack and cough.

"You don't need to run away. It was a simple statement. I am right, aren't I? You have always been the spoiled little brat?"

"How do you know that about me?"

"You probably don't really want to know the answer to that Elly. I mean I could see it in your eyes. You have always been materialistic and I know you thought I was going to ask for money. I don't need money. You do though. You need a lot."

I tried to pull open the car door again but his hand slid up to grip my wrist. His skin was cold and sticky. I shivered and was repulsed by him. When he opened his mouth teeth were missing and those still in there were almost black. He looked so old, so decrepit. My mind was racing and really there was no solution. I could see it now. The front page of the newspaper tomorrow would have a title such as "up and coming journalist found dead on side of the road."

Wait. That was assuming someone would find me tonight. The sun had set almost completely. It was dark now and in the time since my car had died no other car had driven by. I wouldn't be found tonight. It would be days. My body would probably look like his by the time I was found.

"Let me go. Please."

"Fine."

And with that he let go of my wrist and stepped back. He stood up straight and suddenly I realized he must be at least six feet tall. I was only five feet so almost everyone felt taller then me. I opened the car door and stood between it and the car. My hands fumbled with the keys, ready to put it in the ignition. My brain was clearly not working well as I had forgotten why I was stopped on the side of the road to begin with.

"You have once again made a bad decision. Typical isn't it?"

I glared at him and got into the car. The moment the door was closed I locked them all. The car started and I pushed my foot hard down on the gas. My wheels spun as I drove down the dark dusty road. 

It wasn't until I got to the first intersection with streetlights that I started to calm down. My hands were clammy and my breathing was ragged. I turned into a small convenience store and decided I needed some water. My throat was parched.

I got out of the car and rushed inside. I barely paid attention to anyone around me. The video cameras in the store would have seen a blonde woman rush in and go straight to the drink area. Her skirt was black and her blouse was a sheer white. The kid at the counter would assume she was a lawyer or something late for a dinner date.

I opened the door and reached in to get a bottle of water. Just as I reached in a hand touched mine. I screamed.

"Yikes. Sorry."

I gasped and saw that a young man around my age had at the same moment opened the door and had reached for the same bottle.

"I am so sorry. I'm just nervous. Stressed."

I smiled as I tried to show him that I was normal.

"It's fine. You look like you've seen a ghost or something."

"Close. I'm Elly."

"Chase."

I bite my lip and looked down and then up. I knew all the right things to do to make guys pay attention to me. I ran my fingers along his arm then giggled.

"That feels nice."

In the few minutes that we stood there an instant attraction occurred. I knew only a few things about him but that was all I needed to know. He was taller then me and around my same age. His name was Chase and that meant he came from a rich family, as trailer trash parents do not name their children Chase. As my fingers touched his skin the connection strengthened.

"Are you from around here Elly?"

I nodded and parted my lips. I watched his mouth open as he spoke and I saw his even white teeth. My tongue flicked out, wanting desperately to feel his teeth, his mouth, and his tongue.

He grinned as he watched my tongue move and when he grabbed my hand and led me along the back wall towards the washroom, I did not hesitate. His grip was firm and when we entered the bathroom I knew that our lust and attraction was going to take over.

The door closed and I watched him lock it. I had already lifted up my skirt to reveal my black panties. He growled and pushed me hard against the wall. His hands were all over me and soon his thick fingers were sinking into my wet pussy.

"You like my fingers in your pussy baby? You like a stranger making you cum?"

His fingers pushed up hard against my g-spot and I gripped his broad shoulders.

"Yes. Push up harder. Rub my spot in circles. I need to cum!"

He did as he was told and soon my juices were dripping down his hand. The tile wall felt cool and I forgot how hot and sweaty I had felt outside just a few short minutes before. I was slowing forgetting everything as he pushed in a third finger and began to stretch my opening.

"Cum on my fingers baby. You need this like the slut you are. Cum."

I wasn't close yet but this was feeling so good. I felt his other hand reach up my body and squeeze my left breast. I cried out and looked into his eyes. It was only then I saw how dark they were.

"Kiss me."

Chase nodded and kissed me hard. I tasted his saliva and was finally able to feel his mouth and tongue. It was a wet kiss that was turning me on even more. His fingers continued to bang into me and he was finally pushing me over the edge.

He spun me around and bent me over the sink. In one quick motion he unzipped his jeans and pulled out his cock. He tapped it against my round butt then shoved it into my pussy. The angle was perfect and soon his cock was giving my g-spot the friction it needed.

"Oh fuck Chase. That's it. Make me cum!'

He slammed into me three more times and then I was there. I gripped the sink as my legs shook. My pussy tightened and I moaned. My orgasm felt so damn good but I knew he couldn't cum in me.

I spun around and looked at him. His face was full of lust.

"Jerk off for me. You can't cum in me but I want you to cum."

Chase grinned and it almost looked like he had some missing teeth. I wasn't really paying attention as I loved watching him stroke his thick cock. It was bulging at the top and the tip was purple and swollen. I could see my juices covering his cock and his hand was slick with his precum and my juices.

"I want to cum on your face."

"No. that's gross."

"Fine. In your mouth. You have a sexy little tongue piercing I'd love to coat."

"Totally not going to happen Chase."

I was being a bitch but I had my standards. I reached down and rubbed my clit. It was sensitive from my first orgasm and I teased myself as he continued to jerk.

"Oh yeah baby!"

I watched as he jerked and yanked his cock until cum spurted out of the tip. The first landed on the ground and then he aimed the rest into the sink. I stepped back to give him room and then I laughed. I couldn't help it. There he was milking his cock into the gross dirty sink at a convenience store.

"Sorry."

"Don't' sweat it Elly. You going to let me cum on your big titties later on?"

"Maybe."

I winked at him and fixed my panties and skirt. Once he tucked his cock back into his jeans we unlocked the door.

We exited the bathroom and were thankful that the clerk was still reading some trashy magazine. Her head was turned down and she probably didn't even notice us enter the store. I was giddy with excitement as I grabbed my bottle of water and went to go pay. Chase pressed himself against me and whispered in my ear.

"I just need to go get something, if you know what I mean."

I grinned. He was getting condoms.

I paid for my water and then walked out to my car. I turned the car on and waited for Chase. I had forgotten everything that had happened earlier in the evening and all I was interested in was bringing him back home and enjoying him even more then I did in the bathroom.

As I sat and waited I knew that I was being shallow. I wouldn't be dating him for long. I never dated guys for long. I got tired of them and then let them go. I was happy at least that tonight's fucking had been pleasurable. Most times I end up rubbing myself with my finger or my vibe the moment I get home.

Chase exited the store and rushed into the car. I smiled and pulled away. I was so caught up with the sexy guy that I didn't notice the clerk stumble out of the store or the fact that the bulge in his jacket pocket wasn't condoms but a gun. I was completely unaware of the fact that he had just robbed the store and shot the female clerk.

We drove for a bit and then when I heard sirens behind me I slowed down. It wasn't the first time I had been stopped for speeding and I knew the routine. I'd pull my shirt down so the edge of my bra would show. I'd smile and bite my lip while digging my nails into the palm of my hand so tears would appear at the corner of my eyes. I was that good.

"Don't stop."

Chase gripped the wheel and made sure that I didn't pull off to the side. He pushed my right knee down so that I sped up. I glanced at him quickly then looked back at the road.

My heart was racing and suddenly I knew that things were not going to turn out well. The road was dark and the red and blue lights of the cruiser behind me created muted colours along the edge of the road. 

"What did you do?"

I glanced over at Chase but he was looking straight ahead. I needed an answer from him even though I know what he was going to say.

"Chase. What did you do!"

A sharp curve threw me off and the car skidded and fishtailed. Dust blew up forcefully against the windshield and I tried to slow down.

"You know what I did. Drive."

Tears were forming in my eyes and I tried to blink them away. The police car was still behind me and ahead there was a bridge. I knew that there was a line of police cars blocking the road on the other side of the bridge. The bridge was a two-lane suspension bridge that went over the fast moving Mississippi River. The water was ice cold and shallow. Even with the shallow water it had a strong current. The bridge had been the location of many suicides. I knew this because I had written news articles on the last three deaths.

The lights from the police cars blinded my sight. I slowed down and then stopped in the middle of the bridge. Removing my seatbelt I looked at Chase.

"This isn't fair! I did nothing. They're going to fucking shoot us! Chase!"

I didn't even recognize my voice. It was ragged and shallow. I was practically panting as I spoke.

"You really are shallow. You always have been. When you were talking to that man on the side of the road you even thought up what the newspaper article would say if he killed you. You had an image in your head that it would be front page news."

I blinked. Had I told him about my creepy encounter? I hadn't. How did he know? Outside I could hear the police officers yelling and ordering us to do something. I could not even move.

"No one will miss you. No one ever misses you. You've been materialistic and bitchy for most of your life. You'd think you'd change."

"It's not my fault!"

"Yes it is. You've always blamed your parents, or your brother, or someone on your problems. Every bad decision you make you have an escape route. Even tonight as you thought your car was dead you were blaming your best friend. Don't deny it Elly. You were thinking that if she hadn't lost her husband to cancer he could have driven her to the airport and not you. Even though she's visiting her dying mother and has to tell her she had a miscarriage. You were blaming her on your car breaking down!"

I opened my mouth to say something but I couldn't. There was no one to talk to. Chase was gone. The money and gun were on the passenger seat. It was only a few hundred dollars.

I grabbed the gun and exited the car. If nothing else this was going to be my last bad decision. I stepped out of my red sports car with the stolen gun held out in front of me. At least it was over quickly.

***

Mountain Times

November 1st, 2011

It was a tragic day at this newspaper today as we lost a wonderful writer and friend. Twenty-five year old Elaine Anderson was killed in a robbery at the convenience store where she worked nights. A crazed woman brandishing a gun entered the store and apparently took a few hundred dollars before fatally shooting Elaine.

The woman, who has not been identified yet, was fatally shot by police after stopping her car at a barricade and approaching the police officers with a gun. She had no identification on her nor could the police trace the ownership of the red sports car. It is this writer's hope that someone will notice who this woman is so she can be properly identified.

Unknown



Chapter 1

'Booger' Bordelon watched the street carefully, while posturing as if he wasn't watching the street at all. A solidly built girl waddled down the sidewalk on the other side of the street. Booger waved in greeting but she ignored him. She reached into her snug jeans pocket and retrieved a cell phone.

"What? I'm busy," she snapped into the phone.

She stopped walking and frowned deeply. 

"Nuh uh, I tell you what you are, uh huh," she said, then resumed walking again. 

She turned the corner, still ranting into the telephone.

Booker heard his own cell phone chime and took it out. An unknown number was in the display.

"Yeah?" he said into the phone.

"Heard you got a little problem," a female voice said.

"What? Who the fuck is this?" he yelled.

"Two of them, in fact," the voice went on.

"I asked you a question, bitch," Booger said forcefully.

"Heard you," the voice said. "I can help you with your little problems."

"Oh yeah, and how you do that, huh?" Booger asked.

"How isn't really important, now is it?" the voice said, still very monotone, almost bored. "Ten thousand each, no more problem. Interested?"

"Uh huh, and next thing I know mother fuckers be at my door, all up in my shit, saying I done reduced them no thank you very much," Booger said.

"It'll never come back to you. Ten thousand each. If you're interested, just nod your head yes," the voice said.

"What? Who the fuck is this? Where you at?" Booger said, looking all around.

"Any idea how stupid you look, swiveling your head all around like that?" the voice said, a hint of mirth creeping into her voice.

"Okay, yeah, I'm interested," Booger admitted, nodding his head yes.

"Okay, tomorrow morning, put two thousand dollars, cash, into the mailbox right across the street. Number 112? See it, right across the street from you?" the voice said.

"Oh yeah, I just drop two thousand in and kiss my ass, huh?" Booger said.

"Then I'll collect the rest when they're done," the voice said. "Bye."

Booger shrugged his shoulders and put his cell phone back into his pocket.

The two problems were Sammy Clivens and Tuquor Amaan Kandira. Both were scheduled to testify against him at his trial next month. Both men claimed to have seen Booger kill Tuquor's girlfriend, Polly. The poor girl was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. But since the first inquiry, neither Sammy or Tuquor had been seen.

"Ain't got nothing lose," Booger shrugged and, with one last look up and down the street, went to the apartment he shared with his grandmother.

"Nana, you fell asleep again in front of the television," Booger said gently to the woman that had raised him since he was an infant.

"Oh, let me tell you, ain't nothing worse than getting old," she whimpered as she eased her bulk out of the chair.

Still grumbling and fussing, she walked down the hallway to the single bedroom.

"Damn, Nana," Booger mumbled, waving at the air.

Nana's gas was normally quite offensive, but tonight she was outdoing herself.

"Nana, you eat at Popeye's again?" Booger called out.

"Coupon came in the mail," Nana called back.

"Damn, woman," Booger grumbled and lighted a joint.

Soon, the smell of Nana's gas dissipated and Booger lay down on the dilapidated couch to sleep.

----

"Very good," the female voice said when Booger answered his cell phone.

"What?" Booger said, squinting at the mailbox across the street. 

He had been watching it all day, ever since putting the two thousand dollars into it.

"How'd you, where are you?" he asked, swiveling his head around, trying to see the whereabouts of the caller.

"It'll be taken care of," the voice said and terminated the call.

----

Booger walked around the neighborhood, trying to see if he could notice anything out of the ordinary, notice any people he'd not seen around the neighborhood before.

"Hey Booger, come see," Detective LaRocca called out and Booger's insides hardened.

"Yeah, what you want?" Booger yelled, trying to adopt a tough swagger.

"You one lucky little n*gger, know that?" Detective LaRocca said, staring Booger down.

"Yeah, what the fuck makes you say that?" Booger asked, looking Detective LaRocca eye to eye.

"Sammy was found dead this morning, drug overdose, and Tuquor put a gun to his head, suicide," Detective LaRocca said. "Just before giving testimony in front of the grand jury. Wouldn't know anything about that, huh?"

"What you think?" Booger asked.

"Think you about the luckiest n*gger I ever seen, that's what I think," Detective LaRocca admitted. "Lord knows you too fucking stupid have anything do with this."

"Uh huh," Booger smirked and walked away.

His cell phone chirped and he pulled it out.

"Same mailbox, tomorrow morning, the rest of the money," the female voice said before Booger could even say a greeting.

"Nah, nah, I ain't paying shit," Booger laughed into the phone. "Case you ain't heard, Sammy O.D.'d and Tuquor done put a bullet in his head."

"Uh huh, and I told you, there was no way it'd get back to you. Who you think put that twenty five to Tuquor's head?" the voice said.

Booger's blood ran cold. Detective LaRocca had not said what caliber handgun RTuquor had used.

"Barely even made a pop," the voice went on. "But you know that bullet was bouncing around in there, turning his brains into hamburger. Eighteen thousand, tomorrow morning."

"Uh huh," Booger smirked, having no intention of paying the remainder of the money.

----

"Booger, this isn't a game," the female voice said.

"What you going to do, huh?" Booger laughed. "Go to the cops?"

"Don't fuck with me, Booger. Last mother fucker didn't pay me sitting in a wheelchair now. You got until nine o'clock get me the other twenty three thousand," the voice said coldly.

"Thought it was only eighteen?" Booger asked, smiling.

"Wipe that ignorant smile off your face," the voice snapped. "Went up. Next time I have to call you, it'll be fifty."

"Make it a Hundred, huh, bitch?" Booger laughed.

He laughed as the call was terminated.

Diamond pulled up, his Lincoln Navigator thrumming and vibrating as JZ boomed out of the subwoofer. Booger sauntered out to the SUV, smiling widely.

"Shit, man, what you doing?" Booger laughed. And took the small bag Diamond handed him. Diamond smiled as Booger gave Diamond the cash.

"Business doing pleasure with you," Diamond said and drove away.

Booger put the crack cocaine into his vest pocket and sauntered back onto the sidewalk. His cell phone chirped; his grandmother's ring tone.

"Hey Nana, what's up?" he cheerfully said.

"Booger, there's some girl here, says you owe her some money?" Nana's voice crackled worriedly.

Booger's blood ran cold for the second time that day.

"Nana, she still there?" he asked her.

"Yeah," Nana agreed.

"Nana, put her on," Booger asked, trying to keep his voice calm.

"You don't want to cross me," the voice said. "But I'm done talking."

"You listen here, bitch, you hurt one hair on my Nana's head, I swear to God I'll..." Booger screamed into the phone.

"Get me my money, Booger," the voice said and the call was terminated.

Booger ran to the apartment building and ran up the stairs.

"You see her?" Nana asked Booger as Booger barreled into the apartment. "She just left here, not even a minute ago."

"What she look like?" Booger asked the old woman.

"Oh you know, just like any other girl, not enough clothes on, showing us everything we don't need be looking at," Nana fussed. "And using language like I are never heard, I swear I don't know what's up with you children these days."

"Nana, she white, black, what?" Booger asked.

"Black girl, of course," Nana said. "Shirt don't even come down, belly all hanging out, had one of them rings in her belly button, why anyone would want to do that beyond me, I tell you."

----

Victoria carefully removed the skin dye, checking her ears to make sure no traces remained there. The black wig was already in her bag, along with the gold tooth implant.

The padding had been removed as soon as she entered the house, along with the two pennies she'd jammed into her nostrils to widen and flatten her nose.

Nude, she walked to the window and looked out at the street. Booger was visible, looking up and down the street.

"Typical fucking man never sees anything, even if it's right in front of him," Victoria sneered and picked up the disposable cell phone.

There were only ten minutes left on the phone. She could, of course, add more minutes, but she wouldn't. She would use up the minutes, then dispose of the phone and then use another disposable cell phone.

Booger went back into the apartment, still wondering where the girl had vanished too. He had not seen any girl on the street or in the building when he'd run up the stairs.

He got the newspaper and tore several strips, stuffing them into an envelope. Then he went back down the stairs and walked to 112 Sycamore Street and put the envelope into the mailbox.

Then he walked back across the street and waited.

----

"Newspaper?" the voice asked. "Newspaper?"

Booger was amazed. He'd stood in front of the house all day and into the evening and no one had even walked in front of the house, much less looked into the mailbox.

"Go home, Booger, your Nana needs you," the voice sighed.

"I swear to God, you hurt..." Booger threatened.

"And it's fifty thousand now, dumb ass," the voice said and the call was terminated.

Booger ran back to the apartment he shared with Nana and entered.

He heard Nana groaning and whimpering from the bathroom and ran to the door.

Nana lay, naked, on the floor of the bathroom. She had obviously fallen as she was getting out of the bathtub.

Nana!" Booger screamed.

"Booger, you pay that girl, you hear?" Nana screamed back at him.

Chapter 2

Diamond listened; face impassive, as Booger described what had happened.

"And see, it's like this," Booger concluded. "Let me hold fifty, pay you back, know what I'm saying?"

"Uh huh," Diamond agreed.

"Aw my brother, you all right, knows what I'm saying?" Booger smiled in relief.

"I ain't too good at that math shit," Diamond went on. "Fifty thousand, let me see, what the fuck, you my boy, right? Fifty five on Friday, right? Be sixty five next Friday, feel me dog?"

"Fifty... Yeah, shit, that's cool, that's cool," Booger agreed.

"Uh huh," Diamond said and opened his desk drawer and counted out fifty thousand dollars in one hundred dollar bills.

"Man what else you got in there?" Booger jokingly asked.

"This," Diamond said, pulling out a nine millimeter handgun, pointing it right at Booger.

"Shit, mother fucker! Ain't got to be pointing that fucking thing at me, just asking, my brother!" Booger protested.

"And I can't get to this one, got four more all over in this room right here, another five or six in every room of this house, feel me dog?" Diamond went on.

"Uh huh, shit, ain't got to be all up in my face like that," Booger complained.

"See you Friday," Diamond smiled.

"Uh huh," Booger said, still angered.

----

"How's your Nana?" the voice asked.

"She's getting better, thank you," Booger snapped into his cell phone.

"Only got yourself to blame; you'd paid up like you were supposed to, she wouldn't have gotten hurt," the voice said.

"I find you, better sleep with one eye open, that's all I got to say, hear me?" Booger warned.

"Uh huh, don't forget to pay Diamond back. Ten thousand a week? That's some interest, huh?" the voice said, and Booger glared as he heard a giggle.

Victoria dropped the cell phone down the storm drain and continued waddling down the street.

"Your first one?" the elderly black woman smiled as Victoria tried to pull her blouse down over her protruding belly.

"Aw yeah and of course he's all like 'Aint mine'' you know?" Victoria complained. "I told him they got this D.N.A. out there now, he's going to find out Vickie don't play."

"Men, huh?" the woman cackled as she went back up the steps into her dilapidated house. "Sometimes wonder why even bothered making them, huh?"

"I know that's right," Victoria cackled.

Again, as soon as she entered the house, she pulled the bulky padding off and dropped the wig into her bag, then popped the tooth off, then walked to the kitchen. The dye needed to be removed, but Victoria wanted a drink first.

She took a bottle of juice out and took a few deep swallows from the jug.

She froze as she heard knocking at the door.

Quickly, she put the wig back on, and then adjusted the padding. Then she slipped the gold tooth back on and opened the door.

The older black woman stood on the porch, beaming up at Victoria.

"Hope you don't mind, but I remembered, when I was having my Terrell, and Ophelia, last thing I felt like doing was cooking," the woman said, showing Victoria a casserole dish. "So, I grabbed some of my world famous chicken stew, brung it right on over." 

"Aw ain't you sweet?" Victoria said. "And I'm just about out of food too! See, we moving, tomorrow's my last day here, believe that shit? He moves me here, then says 'oops ain't got no job, going back to Atlanta, see you' and he's all mad I found him and he ain't even in Atlanta! He's in Birmingham, believe that shit? What's in Birmingham, huh?"

The old woman looked around the squalor and nodded her head in agreement.

----

Booger was sweating as Diamond's SUV approached. His plastid a smile on his face as he sauntered out to meet the vehicle.

Diamond took the ten thousand and listened impassively as Booger made excuses about why he couldn't pay Diamond.

"Uh huh, you ever find that girl?" Diamond interrupted Booger's lament.

"No, and I ever find that bitch..." Booger promised.

"Tell her give me a call," Diamond interrupted and sped away.

"Ain't telling her shit," Booger muttered and again took his post, waiting for another customer to come along.

"Hello?" Diamond said as an unknown number popped up on his dashboard display.

"Hear you wanted me to call you?" a female voice asked.

"Aw yeah baby, how you doing?" Diamond said, trying to remember the voice.

"Don't 'Baby' me," the voice said coldly. "Booger said you wanted me to call; what do you want?"

"I understand you ah; you got a way of solving problems?" Diamond said.

"I do," the voice agreed.

"Booger is my problem," Diamond said. "He owes me a great deal of money and shows no inclination of paying it back."

"And?" the voice asked.

"Convince him that I am not interested in a penny here a penny there," Diamond said. "Convince him it would be in his best interest to pay me what he owes me. In full."

"And what's in it for me?" the voice asked.

"Ten," Diamond said. "And the next time I got a problem, you'll get another ten to take care of that.

"No problem," the voice said and the call was terminated.

"Fucking freaky ass bitch," Diamond said and pulled up to the McDonald's drive-through.

----

Booger looked around; Nana was still asleep in front of the television. He pulled the can of nuts out and put the money into the can.

He wasn't worried about Nana finding the money; she couldn't eat nuts. They were too hard for her to digest, so she just left the can alone. Plus that, he put it on the top shelf of the cabinet, well out of her reach.

Nearly seventy thousand dollars. Diamond could just kiss his ass if he thought Booger was going to remain his boy, his dog forever. Detective LaRocca had accidentally let Andeer Ali-Jabi's name slip. 

Booger had gone to have him a face to face with Mister Ahli-Jabi about stepping up the rung.

"Allah is good. Seventy five thousand would go a long way in convincing me that you are serious," Andeer had said. "I have been looking for someone that would be an honorable and fair man and my instincts tell me that you are such a man. Am I right?"

"You know it," Booger smiled and Andeer Ali-Jabi laughed and patted Booger's face.

"Yes, seventy five thousand and we will form our partnership, yes?" Andeer said.

"You eat those nuts again?" Nana asked, nearly causing Booger to drop the can.

"Like them," Booger smiled and stuck the can on the top shelf again.

"You get me those corn chips like I asked?" Nana asked, looking at the bags on the small table.

"Yeah, Nana," Booger said. "But you know the doctor don't want you eating them with your Diabetes."

"Doctors don't know everything," Nana fussed.

----

"Booger watched in amusement as the fat man waddle down the sidewalk. The man reached the corner, huffing and puffing out of breath, and leaned against a light pole to get his breath.

Booker's cell phone chirped and he answered it.

"Yeah?" he barked.

"Diamond's tired of waiting and would like you to pay him," the unemotional voice said.

"This is between Diamond and me, ain't got shit do with you, you done already got your money," Booger said after getting his breath back.

"No, now it's between me and you," the voice corrected. "Diamond has asked me to make sure you're willing to pay him."

"Fuck you, you hear me, bitch?" Booger screamed into the phone, terrified.

"Booger, Booger, Booger, like I'd let you anywhere near my golden ass?" the voice said, almost smiling. "But just to let you know I'm serious about collecting for my friend..."

Booger screamed in terror as the cell phone was shot out of his hand. A chunk of his index finger was missing and blood trickled from the wound.

The fat man waved to the elderly woman and labored up the steps into the house.

"Mrs. Harris, please, no more food," he called out. "God knows you are a wonderful cook, but my doctor really would like for me to lose some weight."

"Oh, all right," the old woman called back. "You look fine to me, though."

"That's what I said but you know how those doctors are," the fat man said.

She closed the door behind her and took off the short wig that hid her blond hair. Then she took off the large man's jacket and began pulling the padding out of her shirt. The pants followed. She put the clothing into the closet next to the front door, and made sure the twenty two pistol's safety was on.

Nude, she walked to the refrigerator and pulled out one of Mrs. Harris' casserole dishes.

"Woman can cook, that's for sure," Victoria agreed and put the dish into the microwave.

Mrs. Harris hummed to her as she fixed her own dinner.

"Shame about that Vickie girl; wonder if she had that baby yet," she mused aloud. "Then that boy moves in; Good God that's a lot of boy! I bet he's at least three hundred pounds!"

----

"Here you go, my man," Booger pasted a smile on his face as he handed Diamond the fifty thousand dollars.

"Uh huh," Diamond said, making no comment about the white gauze tape around Booger's index finger.

"You can trust me; it's all right there," Booger said.

"Uh huh," Diamond agreed, but continued to count.

"Now you can tell that bitch she ain't got shit do with me, right?" Booger asked.

"Uh huh, maybe," Diamond agreed. "By the way, Ali-Jabi said he wants to see you."

"Oh?" Booger said, paling considerably. "Who's that?"

"Mother fucker you was kissing up to behind my back," Diamond said and turned his back on Booger.

"Huh," Booger said and left Diamond's house.

----

"Money goes into the mailbox, 112 Sycamore Street," the voice said.

"Uh yeah, yeah, uh listen, I might have another one for you," Diamond said.

"I'm listening," the voice said.

"Ever hear of Andeer Ali-Jabi?" Diamond asked.

"Yes," the voice said and waited.

"Well, that's uh, that's the next problem I'd like solved.

"Andeer Ali-Jabi is a hard one to get to," the voice said. "That will cost you fifty."

"Thousand?" Diamond said, surprised.

"With him out of the way, you would stand to take over the entire city," the voice calmly said. "It would mean millions for you."




Unknown



"True, true," Diamond agreed.

"Half up front, mailbox," the voice said and hung up.

"God damn that is one scary ass ho," Diamond muttered to himself.

----

Andeer Ali-Jabi kept his face as impassive as possible as the small man bowed and scraped in front of him.

"And that is why, when I heard what they had planned for you, my friend, I said 'Allah would surely bless me one thousand fold if I warned one of His servants,' wouldn't you agree?" the man said.

"It is good of you to bring this to my attention," Andeer agreed. "And what is it that you want from me?"

"Well, Mr. Diamond did offer me one hundred thousand dollars to kill you," the man said and waited.

"I see," Andeer Ali-Jabi mused aloud.

"So since Mr. Diamond has placed the value of your life to be one hundred thousand..." the man suggested.

Andeer nodded his head again.

"You sicken me," he said in Arabic. "You are a spineless jackal and..."

"I am a mercenary," the man replied in Arabic. "One that is very good at his job. You are the fool that allows a killer into your midst and then you have the nerve to insult me?"

"I am terribly sorry, my friend," Andeer Ali-Jabi sputtered.

He had assumed, since the man's accent was American, that he would have no knowledge of Arabic.

"Now, the price is five hundred thousand," the man said and got to his feet.

"Five hundred..."

"Here," the man said and hurled a key at Andeer Ali-Jabi. Locker number ten seventy one, Gumble street Greyhound Terminal. If the money is not in that locker by nine o'clock tomorrow morning, you will die."

"That is not enough time!" Andeer Ali-Jabi protested.

"And my bullets?" the man went on. "They have been dipped in the blood of a swine."

Andeer Ali-Jabi paled.

"Nine o'clock," the man hissed and left the office.

"Yes?" Cofor, Andeer Ali-Jabi's right-hand man asked as he answered the silent summons to Andeer's office.

"That man, follow him," Andeer ordered.

Cofor left the office and strode through the reception area. He yanked the glass door open and looked up and down the hall.

He saw no man. A blonde woman strolled past, displaying much of her female form to his hardened gaze and smiled cheekily at him as she pressed the button for the elevator. A red baseball cap hid much of her blonde hair and large sunglasses obscured much of her face. 

She searched in her large handbag for something, then smiled at Cofor again.

Cofor strode to the public restroom at the end of the hall and peered in. There was no man in the facility.

He turned just as the elevator 'dinged' and the blonde looked over her shoulder at him and made a display of adjusting the hem of her shorts, exposing a great deal of her buttocks to his gaze.

With a giggle, she entered the elevator and pushed the button for the ground floor.

"Where did that man go?" Cofor demanded of Melanie, the receptionist .

She shrugged her shoulders fearfully.

"I don't know," she whined. "He asked me where the bathroom was and I pointed and him..." 

Andeer was not pleased that the man was able to escape the building.

"Here," he said, handing Cofor the key. Gumble Greyhound bus station, locker ten seventy one. I want you to put five hundred thousand dollars in there, then watch it and see who comes to claim the money. Take Husbah with you. Do not fail me."

From the large safe in his office, Cofor collected the money and put it into a duffel bag. 

Silently, he and Husbah left the building and got into Cofor's Mercedes-Benz and drove to the Greyhound terminal.

The lockers were arranged a several rows, four metal boxes from floor to halfway up to the ceiling, twenty stacks long. Cofor realized, to keep an eye on locker ten seventy one, he would have to stand at the end of the lockers; there were no seats nearby.

"We will take turns," he ordered Husbah.

"Of course," Husbah agreed.

At three eighteen in the morning, a sleepy announcement was made that bus five twelve was now arriving from Houston, Texas. Cofor perked up as a severely overweight man ambled past, counting the lockers.

The man looked at a small key, then continued down the row. He reached the end, then waddled around to the rear lockers. 

Cofor again trained his eye on locker ten seventy one. He heard the man grunt and wheeze and then heard a locker clang shut. He wrinkled his nose in distaste as he heard a thunderous fart escape and the man giggled nervously as he waddled past, now carrying a garment bag.

At ten fifteen, Cofor answered his cell phone.

"Yes?" he demanded.

"Well?" Andeer demanded.

"Nothing; no one has been anywhere near the locker," Cofor admitted.

"Well, then get my money and come back to the office," Andeer ordered.

"Yes," Cofor said and put the phone back into his pocket.

He fitted the key into the lock and opened the locker.

His blood ran cold; the locker was empty.

----

"Yes?" Andeer snapped as his private line rang.

"I have the money; Allah is good indeed," a thin voice proclaimed. "I am pleased that you are a man of your word."

"Thank you," Andeer said, simmering with rage. "But how did you get this..."

"And, you do not need to worry about Mr. Diamond; he has been disposed of," the thin voice went on. "Take care my friend, safe travels to you."

"But how did you get this number? I do not give this...," Andeer demanded as the call was terminated.

----

"Hey Booger," Detective LaRocca called out as he strode toward the small time drug dealer.

"Aw fuck man, what you want, huh?" Booger snapped.

"Hey, hey, that ain't very nice," Detective LaRocca smiled as he stopped. "Your boy, Diamond? Found him dead, committed suicide."

"No shit?" Booger said, eyes wide with surprise.

"Yeah, that bad-ass SUV? Ran a garden hose in through the back window and let it run all night," Detective LaRocca said, smiling. "Ain't that some shit?"

"Aw no, that ain't my boy Diamond," Booger argued.

"Oh?" Detective LaRocca asked, rocking on his heels. "You know why Diamond wouldn't want to kill himself?"

Booger had nothing to say; he simply shrugged his shoulders.

Chapter 3

"I understand that you are looking for me," Andeer heard the thin voice say.

"How did you get this number?" he demanded.

"I understand you have been looking for me," the voice said again, ignoring Andeer's question.

"And where did you hear that?" Andeer asked.

Andeer was indeed searching for the mysterious man but had not let it be known that he was searching for him. He realized that he did not even have a name for the man and only one photograph, a clip from the security camera mounted just outside of his office. Cofor and Husbah had taken the photograph to the three mosques, had looked at all that prayed there, but had not found the mystery man.

"I perhaps have a little problem that only a man of your experience can take care of for me," Andeer said.

"I am listening," the thin voice said.

"No, no, please, my friend, please come in to my office," Andeer said.

"The next time you see me will be the last time you see me," the thin voice hardened. "Now, talk. You've got a job for me, tell me about it."

----

They called him Silk. He smiled as his lawyers managed, again, to get another drug possession charge thrown out of court on a technicality. The two girls smiled and giggled and simpered as he gathered them into his arms and then they left the courtroom. 

"Better luck next time," he told Detective LaRocca and the two girls laughed with him.

"Ain't going to be no next time, Silk," LaRocca muttered.

In the rear of the limousine, Silk unzipped his trousers and pointed to the red head girl. She happily bent to the task of sucking his cock. The blonde giggled and cooed as he mauled her silicone breasts.

"Miss me?" he asked the blonde and she looked him in the eye.

"Yes. I love you," she said.

"Uh huh," he said, then suddenly, roughly slapped his meaty hand on the back of the red head's head and forced her mouth down on his cock.

Her grunts and strangled cries seemed to spur him on and he tried to jam even more of himself into her protesting mouth.

Finally, he sighed and released the red head.

"Thank you," she said when she stopped coughing. "I couldn't breathe."

He got out of the limousine and entered his house, the two girl's right behind him.

"Daddy! Daddy!" a small boy crowed as Silk entered the large living room.

"Hey, hey, my boy!" Silk laughed and hugged the boy. "How you doing , huh?"

"Where you been?" the boy asked his father.

"Had to go away, do some business," Silk lied, then with a promise to take the boy 'some place fun,' Silk put the boy back down in front of the television.

----

"This shit just ain't right," Detective LaRocca said as he looked at the three bodies on the bed.

All three lay, nude, huddled together. The syringe still dangled from Silk's arm, dried blood caked on his skin.

"One, yeah, two, maybe, but all three dying from a drug overdose?" he asked no one in particular.

----

"It has been done, praise be to Allah," the voice said.

"I thank you," Andeer said. "The money is ready for you."

"I have it, thank you," the voice said.

"My friend, I am preparing a feast at my home, it is nothing really, but I would be most happy if you would be in attendance," Andeer quickly said.

"Ah my friend, I am sorry but I cannot," the voice said.

"I plan to have lamb, oh, and of course there will be..." Andeer said.

"I cannot," the voice said, hard and short.

"But I wish to..." Andeer said and then slammed the phone down as the dial-tone told him the mysterious man had hung up.

He then picked up his cell phone and hit the number one on the pad.

"Yes?" Cofor's hard voice asked.

"The tracking device, it was in the bag?" Andeer asked.

"Yes, I am following it right now," Cofor said.

"Good, that is good," Andeer said and hung up.

----

Booger smiled as the fat man huffed and puffed and wheezed as he labored past Booger. Just as he passed, with a nod of the head to Booger, a small plastic bag fell out of the man's pocket.

Booger instinctively put a sneakered foot over the small plastic bag, but did not bend to pick it up.

The fat man reached the corner and prepared to cross the street. Suddenly, he felt his pants' pockets, then felt his shirt pocket, then frantically began to pat himself. He looked down the sidewalk, squinting. He patted his pockets again, then began to lumber back down the sidewalk, muttering to himself.

Booger kept his foot squarely on the bag until the fat man had hurried past, then quickly bent over and picked up the bag and stuffed it in his vest.

He watched as the fat man reached the other corner, and again did the pocket patting dance.

Booger smiled and sauntered back to his apartment.

----

Cofor and Husbah did not smile as they entered the building and walked up the flight of stairs. They did not speak to each other, did not dally in their task.

Cofor nodded to Husbah, then kicked the door of the apartment.

Nana screamed as two fierce looking men burst into the apartment.

Husbah pumped two bullets into Nana's chest.

Cofor pumped three bullets into Booger's head.

A quick check of the apartment located the can with Booger's money, and the small plastic bag of crack cocaine, along with the small tracking device that had been with the hundred thousand dollars Andeer had paid for the hit on Silk.

"There is only two thousand here," Cofor snapped to Husbah.

"Where is the rest?" Husbah asked.

"I do not know. I do not think that this is our money," Cofor said.

There were several five dollar bills, a few tens and twenties as well. There were only nine one hundred dollar bills in the can. 

The duffel bag Cofor had put in the gas station's bathroom had contained nothing but one hundred dollar bills.

"Let us go," Husbah said.

"Money is money," Cofor said as he took the can with him.

----

"Fucking shame about his grandmother," Detective LaRocca mused as he looked around the apartment.

"Uh huh," one of the uniformed officers agreed.

"Yeah, I seen two of them rag head mother fuckers; they was in a crazy ass 'Cedes, feel me?" a child was telling another detective.

"Uh huh, what color?" Detective Graham asked.

"They was that color all them terrorists is," the child said, exasperated.

"The car, son, the car. What color was the car?" Detective Graham said.

"Black, just like the one I'm going to have," the boy said and began making car sounds.

"Uh huh," the man said and smiled sardonically at Detective LaRocca.

----

"He's not there," Mrs. Harris called out as the slender black man walked up the steps.

"I know; he's in the hospital," the man called over. "Sent me to get him some stuff."

"Hospital?" Mrs. Harris asked, face twisted in concern. "What wrong with him?"

"That diabetes of his," he shrugged and dragged his bad leg.

Once inside, Victoria moved quickly, gathering all of the clothing into one suitcase, her cash into another.

Mrs. Harris watched as the short man with the bad leg came out, carrying two suitcases.

"He asked me to give this to you," the man said and handed Mrs. Harris an envelope. "Don't know what it is, said you'd like it, though."

"Oh bless his heart; he a real sweet man, too bad about him being a big boy like that, ain't no woman going to want be around him, big boy like that," Mrs. Harris prattled on as Victoria got into the waiting cab. "You tell him I said 'hey,' okay?"

The slender black man gave the cab driver the address and smiled over his shoulder; the wisps of smoke could be seen just beginning around the windows of the abandoned house. Behind that building, 112 Sycamore was engulfed in flames.

Mrs. Harris nearly fainted when she saw the twenty five thousand dollars in the envelope. A note, written in an almost child-like block style said simply "Your food was the best. Thanks

----."

Melanie grimaced as yet another anonymous hand touched her rear end. The bus was packed like sardines; there was no way of avoiding some contact. But this anonymous hand was going beyond innocent contact. It was bordering on intimate and because it was an unwanted contact, it was very distressing to the attractive red head.

Finally, her stop approached and she edged toward the rear door of the bus.

Once on the sidewalk, she glared at the three smirking youths that got off of the bus right behind her. All three were smirking and avoiding eye contact with her, letting her know that one, or possibly all three had a hand (pun intended) in her mauling.

"Cut your fucking hand off, ever touch me again, cock suckers," she spat at them, removing the smirks from two of the youths' faces.

"Aw, who the fuck you think you are, huh? Stuck up cunt," the one youth that was still smirking spat back.

"Oops, sorry," a blonde woman said as she bumped into the outspoken youth.

She wore very short shorts and a tight tee shirt over her small breasts. A red baseball cap hid much of her blonde hair and large sunglasses obscured her eyes. She appeared to be about five foot six or seven, slightly taller than Melanie. Melanie felt as if she'd seen the woman before, but did not know where she may have seen her.

"Ah, mother fucker!" the boy screamed out loud as the blonde woman grabbed his hand to catch herself.

The bones in his hand snapped like twigs as she bent his hand back, then his wrist snapped as well.

"Oh, gee, I'm sorry; would you like to try grabbing MY ass now?" the blonde asked and kept walking.

Melanie stared, open-mouthed, as the blonde woman strolled to the corner, then with a smile over her shoulder at Melanie, she disappeared into the apartment building.

"Dude!" one of the other youths said to the yelping boy. "That doesn't look too good!"

Melanie turned on her heel and strode briskly toward the apartment building.

She let herself in; as usual, some one left the outside door unlocked. She locked it behind her; it was supposed to be locked at all times.

She gathered her mail at the mail queue in the lobby, then pressed the elevator button.

She reached the fourth floor and let herself into apartment 4C.

Icy fear descended as a very strong hand clamped down over her mouth and a strong chest pressed into her back.

"Flaunting your flesh to anyone who cares to look, then you think you have the right to get angry when some randy young men take liberties?" an accented voice whispered hoarsely into her ear.

"Please," she whimpered into the palm of the leather gloved hand that pressed against her mouth.

"Wearing heels that thrust your backside out, declaring to all that you are a harlot but then want to say 'don't touch?'" the voice whispered again and Melanie whimpered as the man's free hand cupped her buttocks roughly.

"Wearing a blouse that almost bares your breasts, inviting men to..." the voice went on, then gave the front of Melanie's blouse a sharp tug, ripping the fabric away.

Melanie shrieked into the leather palm. She struggled briefly but a savage kick from her assailant broke the heel off of her left pump. She toppled backward, help up by the strong intruder.

"Ooh!" the man moaned as he grabbed her bra clad breasts, kneading the milky white orbs then cruelly, almost savagely tugging her nipples.

"Oohh!" the man moaned again, then reached down and cupped Melanie's crotch through Melanie's skirt and panties.

Melanie felt her captor shudder for a long moment and realized her captor had just climaxed.

"Melanie, you are not going into work tomorrow; you will call in sick, do you understand?" the man whispered as his gloved hand rubbed harshly at Melanie's crotch.

"Mmph!" Melanie protested, both hands trying to push the man's hand away from her crotch.

"Do you understand?" the man whispered again and quickly reached up and twisted one of Melanie's nipples.

"Mmph!" Melanie screamed into the glove over her mouth.

"Yes, but..." Melanie said as the hand over her mouth relaxed for a moment.

The hand clamped back down and Melanie again began to beg as her assailant's free hand shoved her skirt and panties down her thighs.

"You are very beautiful," the man whispered, hot breath blowing into Melanie's ear.

"Very beautiful indeed; it is such a shame that you are nothing but a whore," the man continued as his slim fingers traced up and down Melanie's slit.

"Please, no, please, just let me go, I won't tell anyone," Melanie begged as the other hand was finally removed from her mouth.

"I know you won't," the voice whispered.

"Please," Melanie sobbed as her bra was unhooked

"Do not worry," the man whispered into her ear, then took her earlobe into his mouth and sucked lightly on her earlobe.

Melanie sobbed, gasped, and whimpered as her assailant finger fucked her to an unwanted orgasm.

"Come on now," the man whispered as Melanie regained her breath. "You will call Andeer's telephone and let him know that you have suddenly become ill and will not be in tomorrow," the man said and again gave Melanie's earlobe a gentle suck.

"But tomorrow's payday's," Melanie whined. "I ain't even paid my rent yet!"

"Fine, how much is your rent?" the man asked and again began playing with Melanie's slit.

Eight hundred," Melanie whimpered.

"Here," the man said and gave Melanie a harsh shove.

Melanie toppled forward onto her hands and knees.

"No, no, stay there, I like how you look," the man chuckled, almost a giggle as Melanie tried to get to her feet.

A boot came to rest on her back and Melanie closed her eyes and prayed to a God she did not believe in for rescue.

"Here, here's a thousand, all right?" the man said and put ten one hundred dollar bills on Melanie's coffee table.

He dug Melanie's cell phone from her purse and handed it to her.




Unknown



"Now, Melanie, call Mr. Andeer, let him know that you have just become violently ill and fear that you will be unable to work tomorrow," the man insisted.

Melanie thought very briefly of telling Mr. Andeer what was really going on, but the man produced a nine millimeter pistol and pressed the barrel to Melanie's temple.

"And to make it sound believable," the man said and Melanie gasped in shock and pain as the booted foot lashed out and struck her belly.

"Yes?" Andeer barked harshly into the telephone.

"Mister...." Melanie said, and then vomited heartily.

"Yes?" Andeer nearly screamed into the telephone. "Melanie, is that you? It's your number on the caller ID..."

"Mr. Andeer, this is Melanie, I'm sick, I won't be in tomorrow," Melanie sobbed into the telephone.

"Well that is most unfortunate," Andeer sneered into the telephone. "You do not have any sick days; this comes out of your pocket, not mine."

"Yes sir," Melanie whimpered and sobbed out loud as the call was terminated.

"Very good," the man said and hoisted Melanie to her feet by pulling on her long red hair.

He marched her, hobbled by her one good shoe, and her panties still trapped around her upper thighs, toward her bathroom.

"Now, to make sure you do not go into work tomorrow..." the man said and pulled several pieces of nylon rope from his pocket.

He removed the remains of Melanie's clothing and pinned her hands behind her back.

"Are you going to rape me now?" Melanie sobbed.

"No, although it is quite tempting," the man smiled and lightly pressed his lips to Melanie's lips.

He made her climb into the bathtub, and then forced her to lay on her belly.

"Quite tempting indeed," the man let another giggle escape. "Tell me, have you ever had sexual intercourse, in your rear?"

"Yeah but I hate that shit," Melanie admitted. "Burns."

"Shame; you have a very lovely rear," the man said, squeezing her buttocks a few times, then grabbed Melanie's feet and brought them up to meet Melanie's wrists.

"Ow!" Melanie whined.

"This may be uncomfortable, but not as uncomfortable as death," the man whispered into Melanie's ear and Melanie gasped out loud.

"Now, to make sure you do not scream for help," the man said and pressed a cloth into Melanie's mouth. 

A nylon rope was wrapped around her head, securing the cloth in her mouth.

"Night night," the man giggled and the small room was plunged into darkness.

Victoria looked around Melanie's apartment and smiled tightly. The girl had deplorable taste in furniture. Her collection of cds also left much to be desired.

Victoria giggled as she saw the pornographic dvds; all of the movies were lesbian dvds.

After giving the apartment another check through, she cleaned up Melanie's vomit and felt a slight twinge of guilt; she had not meant to kick the poor girl that hard. She'd only meant to kick her hard enough to make her sound ill on the telephone.

"No sick days, huh, Andeer?" Victoria mumbled. "Bet if she was a man, you'd give her all the sick bays she needed."

Finally, she went to Melanie's refrigerator and drabbed a can of diet soda. She pulled Melanie's bottle of vodka out and fixed herself a large drink.

She allowed herself to relax; a very rare thing, and lay down on the ugly couch to watch one of Melanie's dvds.

----

A black Mercedes-Benz sedan drove to a warehouse. Three men got out and approached the only lighted window in the warehouse complex.

"Where's Silk?" a large African American man asked as he stepped out of an unlighted doorway.

"He is dead, drug overdose," Andeer said.

"No shit?" the man asked. "Who you?"

"I am Andeer Ali-Jabi, Mr. Silk's ah, former employer," Andeer smiled.

"Huh, no shit?" the man said. "Silk ain't said shit about no 'employer,' know what I'm saying?"

"Because he was very good at being discrete," Andeer smiled.

"Uh huh, and how about you? You good at being discrete?" the man asked.

"Of course, but I do understand that you would have questions of me," Andeer said, showing the man that his hands were empty. "What can I do to earn your trust?"

"Let me see a million dollars," the man said.

"Of course, of course," Andeer smiled and Cofor stepped forward, holding a large duffel bag. 

He set it down on the ground, and stepped back. Three African American men stepped out of the shadows and one bent down and unzipped the bag.

"Uh huh," he said to the first man.

"Get Mister..." the large man said.

""Andeer Ali-Jabi," Andeer smiled.

"Mr. Andeer Ali-Jabi his merchandise," the man ordered.

"Yes sir," two men said and disappeared into the shadows again.

The third man took the duffel bag and disappeared into the darkness. Only one of the men that had obeyed the large man's order reappeared, carrying the large bag.

"I be dealing with you from now on, huh?" the large man asked when Husbah took the large bag from the man.

"Of course," Andeer smiled as they got back into the Mercedes-Benz.

Cofor started the car and drove carefully out of the warehouse complex. Andeer looked over his shoulder and saw that the office light was now turned off.

Andeer pulled a cell phone out, pressed a button and nearly laughed as a large explosion erupted inside of the warehouse.

----

"Got some tweezers?" Detective LaRocca asked the uniformed cop. "Be about the only fucking way you're going to get any fucking evidence here."

"Looks like they was cooking up some meth here, shit blew up," the other detective mused aloud, looking at the charred warehouse.

"Yeah, that's what it looks like," Detective LaRocca agreed. "Also looks like it shut down Otis. For good."

"Fucking shame," the other detective said dryly.

----

Andeer looked at the map and smiled. With Silk and Otis out of the way, he now had almost total access to the entire Southeast, except for New Orleans. And New Orleans would be easy enough. Several of the city's politicians actually ran the trade but by and large, politicians were cowards. A few threats here and there and he would have that area as well.

"I told you, the next time you saw me would e the last time," the man said and Andeer looked up, surprised.

"How did you...?" he asked. 

His door was locked. With Melanie out sick, Husbah was sitting at her desk, covering the reception area. Cofor was in his office, of course, but Cofor monitored the lobby, as well as this floor with his security cameras. And both Cofor and Husbah knew that he was searching for this mysterious man.

"Dipped in pig's blood," the man smiled and raised the pistol.

"No, my friend, I beg of you!" Andeer screamed, raising his arm to shield off the bullet.

The silencer made slight popping sounds as the man fired three hollow point slugs into Andeer's head.

The man put the pistol into his bag, then went back into Cofor's office and hit 'erase' on the security system. He looked again at Cofor's lifeless body and shrugged. He then hit the shut down button and walked out of the office.

Husbah was still gurgling through the holes in his throat but did not look up as the man walked out of the office. He pressed the button for the elevator and waited patiently.

----

Raw pain coursed through Melanie's shoulders, wrists, ankles and knees. She slept fitfully, more from exhaustion than anything else. Every now and then, a muscle spasm would twitch, and she'd wake up in agony.

Her stomach gurgled and growled; she had not eaten anything since lunch yesterday.

She also smelled foul; she had relieved herself, having no choice but to do so

Suddenly the bathroom light was flipped on and Melanie screamed into the gag; the light was blinding.

"Allah is good; you are here and you are safe," her attacker said as he stepped into the room.

"Oh please, God, no," Melanie whined into the gag.

"Oh my! You have made a mess, haven't you?" the man asked, and Melanie sobbed in shame, knowing what the man was looking at.

He untied her ankles and gently let her legs down. Then he untied her wrists ad actually rubbed her raw, aching shoulders for a moment.

"Your rent is on your coffee table," the man said gently. "I do expect you to call the police; you may wish to put your rent money away before they arrive; they will claim it is evidence and you will not see it again. Also, you might want to hide your dirty little movies; wouldn't want anyone to get the wrong idea, now would we?"

The man was gone when Melanie hobbled out of the bathroom. She sat down on the couch; the walk from the bathroom to the living room taking all of her strength.

She looked at the large stack of money on her coffee table and blinked.

"Allah is good indeed," she muttered after she had counted twenty five thousand dollars.

She took her cell phone out of her purse and punched in '911' but paused, unable to make herself hit 'send.' Finally, she put the cell phone back in her purse and hobbled into the small kitchenette and tossed a microwave dinner into the barely functioning appliance.

Chapter 4

Detective LaRocca interrogated Melanie for nearly four hours. He was suspicious of her 'good fortune' to be out sick the day her boss and two of his employees were gunned down.

"I don't know what to tell you; check his phone; I called him last night; I was throwing up like a dog," Melanie shrilled.

Finally, he let her go, even though he could tell that she was hiding something behind her denials.

Melanie took the bus to her apartment building, but rather than go up to her empty apartment, she decided to stop in the small bar on the opposite corner, have a drink.

Within moments of entering, she regretted her decision.

She'd never been inside the dimly lighted room; had heard the music wafting outside, the occasional laughter, had smelled the distinct smells of a neighborhood lounge.

Inside, the patrons seemed to be older, blue collar workers, predominantly male. Just after seating herself at the bar, the bartender had told her three of the males had offered to buy her a drink.

"No thanks," she very firmly told the old man. "I can buy my own."

A slightly younger male, in his mid to late thirties, smugly came up and tried to chat to her.

"Listen, I've had a bitch of a day, I just want a drink, fucking relax, all right?" Melanie shrilly told the arrogant man.

"The um, the lady down at the end of the bar would like to buy you a drink," the old man harrumphed.

Melanie was about to scream at him but his words registered. "The Lady ..."

She looked over and the blonde woman smiled and raised her glass in salute.

"Yes, thank you," Melanie smiled in return.

"Here you are," the old man said and set a fresh vodka and tonic down.

"Men are pigs, huh?" Melanie heard, rather felt a soft voice caress her ear.

"Amen, sister," Melanie agreed. "Thanks for the drink; I could use one."

"Oh?" the blonde woman asked, tugging at her red baseball cap's visor.

"My God damned boss got himself killed and the fucking cops act like I'm the one that did it; I just got out of a fucking third degree by some fat ass detective so I come in here to you know, unwind and all these ass holes are all over me like 'ooh, pussy!' and I just need a fucking drink, you know?" Melanie ranted.

"Men are pigs," the blonde woman agreed and pushed her sunglasses up firmly.

"Love the sunglasses; those are fly girls, right?" Melanie asked.

"Copy, ten bucks," the blonde woman laughed.

"Melanie," Melanie said, holding out her hand.

"No shit?" the blonde woman laughed again. "Me too."

"What?" Melanie asked.

"Me too, my name's Melanie," the woman laughed and took Melanie's offered hand and held it warmly.

"Get y'all anything else?" the bartender asked.

"My um, I live right down there," Melanie pointed in the direction of her apartment.

"We're good, thanks," the blonde woman smiled at the bartender, who shrugged and walked back to his stool.

"Let's go," the blonde said to Melanie.

Outside, Melanie was surprised when her new friend very casually, very easily took her hand and walked toward the apartment building.

Suddenly, they heard footsteps approaching rapidly. The blonde's hand tightened slightly in Melanie's hand.

"Ha!" a black man crowed as he grabbed the blonde woman's nylon duffle bag.

"Uh huh," the blonde woman said, lashing out with her left foot and catching the would be purse snatcher on the side of his knee.

He went down, hard, face first, screaming in pain.

"Please tell me you don't live, like six flights up and the elevator doesn't work," the blonde woman said as she dragged a stunned Melanie toward the apartment building.

"How did you, what did you, what?" Melanie sputtered as the man screamed, rolling on the ground.

"Don't worry about him; he'll be fine," the blonde woman said and urged Melanie toward the building.

They rode the elevator in silence; Melanie was nearly petrified.

She'd known she was gay for several years, ever since puberty, but had never once acted on it. Even when her friends played little petting games with each other, Melanie forbid herself from joining in. She even let nearly every boy in her college have sex with her to hide her homosexuality from others. From herself.

Upon graduation, she swore off sex altogether and lived a cloistered life, just her dvds and fantasies for company.

Now, she was finally succumbing to her desires and the woman that she had decided would deflower her seemed to be a lethal psychopath.

"Oh, I love your apartment!" the blonde woman exclaimed and put her duffel bag on the couch.

"Um, thanks; picked it out myself," Melanie stammered.

"How about a little music?" the blonde woman asked, taking her red baseball cap off.

More of her beautiful blonde hair spilled out, cascading nearly to her tight rear end.

"Um, sure, uh, you like Taylor Swift?" Melanie asked, turning the stereo on.

"Mm hmm," the woman said, coming up behind Melanie and putting her arms around Melanie's waist.

They rocked together and Melanie gasped and sighed as the woman's teeth lightly bit down on Melanie's shoulder.

"You are so sexy," the woman husked into Melanie's ear. "I just love all this red hair; this real?"

"Ooh!" Melanie sighed as the woman's hands cupped her breasts and toyed with her sensitive nipples.

"Take this off?" the woman begged, tugging on Melanie's blouse.

"Listen I uh, I listen, and I've never..." Melanie stammered as the woman gently turned her around so that they were swaying face to face.

"Uh huh," the woman said and thrust a thick tongue into Melanie's mouth.

"Take the, why you still have those sunglasses on?" Melanie asked.

"You don't want me to take them off," the woman said, smiling tightly.

"I want to see your eyes," Melanie said, a rare bit of assertiveness showing through.

"Okay, I warned you," the woman said and removed her sunglasses.

"Melanie gasped at the horrible black eye the woman sported.

"Some mother fuckers can't take 'No' when a girl says 'no,'" the woman shrugged.

She put her sunglasses back on then kissed Melanie again.

----

The next morning, Melanie tried to pull her lover's sunglasses off, to show her new lover she wasn't afraid to see the bruise.

"No, no, freckle face," the woman smiled and kissed Melanie. "See you later."

"When?" Melanie begged, letting the hated 'freckle face' moniker slide.

"Soon, as soon as I get back from New Orleans, okay" the woman said.

"Like tomorrow? Next week?" Melanie persisted.

"Melanie, baby, I don't know, okay? Soon as I'm finished, okay?" the woman said, kissed Melanie again and slipped out the apartment.

Victoria sighed and opened the door for the stairwell. She pulled her sunglasses off and made sure there was no trace of the purple and black dye she'd removed in Melanie's shower.

Satisfied all make up was gone, she tucked her hair into the baseball cap and put the sunglasses back on. She trotted down the stairs until she reached the building's basement.

Melanie sat down on the couch and listened to Taylor Swift sing.

(He lover had stripped Melanie nude, then licked every square inch of Melanie's body. She brought Melanie to the brink of orgasm four times with her talented tongue, then backed off. The fifth time she brought Melanie to the brink, she jammed three fingers into Melanie's pussy and Melanie actually blacked out from the force of the orgasm.

When she came to, her lover was laughing.

"Damn, baby!" her lover laughed. "You're a squirter, you know that?"

Then she had removed her clothing and revealed a thin, athletic body. Melanie lavished oral love on the woman's breasts and large nipples, concave belly, and hairless mound.

"God, I love this," Melanie had groaned as she licked all over her lover's hairless slit.

"Don't you ever shave yours, you hear? That beautiful red hair? God, I love your red hair," the woman had moaned as Melanie finally stuck her tongue into the blonde's pussy and tasted another woman's pussy for the first time.

Then, out of her duffel bag, the woman had dug out a leather harness and a rubber phallus.

"Ever had it up the ass?" the woman leered as she cinched on the leather harness.

"Yeah, I love that," Melanie had moaned as she watched the blonde stroke the fake cock, getting it lubricated, ready.

She actually hated it, but if her lover wanted her ass, Melanie would gladly give her lover her ass.)

"No you don't," her blonde lover laughed. "I could see it all over your face!"

Melanie now sat, listening to Taylor warble about unrequited love and began to cry.

"She's not coming back," Melanie sobbed, replaying their last conversation in her mind.

Her lover had been so vague about when she'd be back and had gotten almost angry when Melanie had pushed. 

----

"Hey hey hey! It's Fat Albert!" one young man said, quoting a catch phrase from a 70s Saturday Morning cartoon, as the large black man waddled toward the bus stop and his friends laughed.

The man ignored them, waiting on the bus.

The youth made a few more disparaging remarks and averted his gaze when the black man glared at him.

The bus rumbled to a stop and the black man got on. Laughing and chattering, the white youths also boarded.

Twenty minutes into the bus ride, the youths pulled the bell, alerting the driver that they wished to get off at the next stop.

The black man sat quietly until the loud mouth was just abreast of him, and stuck his foot out, tripping the arrogant boy.

"oops," he sneered as the boy glared hatefully at him.

Three stops later, the black man got off.

He looked around, then waddled to the nearest door and punched in a code. The door chimed then clicked. Quickly, he yanked the door open and entered the building. At the end of the dark hallway, he punched the button for the service elevator and waited.

He got on, then pushed the button for the top floor.

The elevator did not move. He glanced around again, then punched in the code for the elevator.

"Hello Vickie, the man greeted her as she got out of the service elevator.

"Hello Derek," Victoria greeted him.

"Please, Vickie, take those damned sunglasses off, and that stupid hat," Derek complained.

In response, Victoria pointed to the three security cameras and shook her head no.

"Fine. Anyway," Derek huffed.

Derek started many of his conversations with the word 'anyway,' as if he were continuing a conversation. Victoria recognized the man's genius, recognized that, unbeknownst to himself, he was simply trying to speed up the conversation so that he could end it. He held most people in very low regard and wanted as little contact with them as possible.

"Objectives reached; thank you," Derek said as he marched over to the large desk that looked out over the large room.

"Uh huh; may I...?" Victoria asked and Derek impatiently nodded his head yes.




Unknown



She sat at a smaller desk, booted up the computer and quickly verified her off-shore bank account had been credited the five hundred thousand dollars. She logged off and swiveled in the chair to face him.

"How can you even see out of those things?" Derek asked.

"More importantly, how can you even see into them?" she asked and gave him a quick smile.

"Uh huh, anyway, new objectives..." Derek said and typed rapidly on his computer keyboard.

Victoria turned and looked at her monitor.

A beautiful brunette's face popped up on the screen, followed by a front profile of her entire body, then a side profile. A heart shaped tattoo popped up, with the word "Danielle" inside of it.

"Vanessa Brady, age twenty three, Caucasian, lives at..." Derek intoned.

"I can read, Derek, thank you," Victoria said as the images and words flashed on the screen at a dizzying rate.

"Uh huh," Derek coughed, then sipped his ever-present coffee.

Victoria stood, nodded curtly at Derek, and then walked to the elevator.

"Anyway, you've got one week," Derek said.

"One week?" Victoria asked. "Why only one week?"

"Trial starts following Thursday," Derek said.

"Oh," Victoria said and got onto the elevator.

She was a sociopath; she did not ask why the objective had to die. She didn't care. That was part of what made her very good at her job. She didn't care.

Derek valued her for that reason; she didn't pry into the why of the agency, just the who, what, where and went. Why wasn't important, and How was of her own discretion.

And most of the time her How looked like an accident, or a suicide, or a natural cause of death, leaving very few questions, and very little chance it would get back to the agency.

----

The woman with the very short brown hair exited the building and sauntered to the bus stop, short skirt swishing as she walked, and high heels clacking on the sidewalk. 

She smiled a sassy little smile at the construction worker as the bus rumbled close. She lifted her sunglasses and looked him directly in the eye. He could see the crow's feet at the corners, noticed she was a little too old for the outfit she was wearing. She then put her sunglasses back down and dug into her large purse for the proper change for the bus.

"Tell you what, sweetie, give me a little kiss; I'll pay the fucking bus for you," the construction worker said.

"Thanks, honey, but y'all a little too white for me," Victoria smiled. "Know what I'm saying?"

"Aw fuck, what ever," the construction worker said, disgusted.

She got onto the crowded bus and held onto the rail as the bus lumbered to downtown.

A hand rubbed on her bare ass cheek for a moment, then grew a little bolder and gave her ass a squeeze.

She brought the heel of her shoe down onto the man's foot. He sucked in a great lungful of air and bent over to grab his injured foot. When he bent forward, she brought the heel of her foot back to strike him directly in the face.

The construction worker clutched at his bloody nose, groaning.

"Oops!" she giggled over her shoulder. "Should have been a gentleman and offered a lady your seat, know what I'm saying?"

----

Detective LaRocca went over Melanie's interrogation again, but could find no reason to bring Melanie in for more questioning. He was sure she knew something, though.

"Man, just fucking let it go, huh?" Detective Graham, his partner said and coughed heartily for a moment.

"Let me ask you something; they hadn't been rag heads, you be so quick to say 'let it go,' huh?" Detective LaRocca snapped.

"Man, way I'm feeling right now, I'd say 'let it go' if they'd been a bunch of fucking nuns," Detective Graham said and coughed into his handkerchief for a solid minute, eyes watering.

"Fuck, go home, huh?" Detective LaRocca snapped.

"Can't, my wife might be there," his partner said and coughed again.

----

Melanie listlessly shoved the microwave dinner into her mouth. With a sigh, she got up and threw the majority of the unappetizing meal into the garbage can.

She grabbed her purse and strode out the door.

The bartender nodded in greeting as Melanie took a seat. He put a drink down in front of a woman with short brown hair, and then looked over his shoulder at Melanie again. He shrugged to the brunette and walked over to where Melanie sat.

"Woman would like to buy you a drink," he said, bored.

"Um, tell her thank you, but I'm kind of seeing someone right now," Melanie stammered, blushing hotly.

Twice in two nights, women were buying her drinks. Could they just look at her and tell she was gay?

The bartender shrugged and returned to the brunette. The brunette looked over at Melanie and glared hotly.

"Well, fuck you!" the brunette drunkenly slurred.

She wobbled down off of her bar stool and walked over to where a shocked Melanie sat. Her high heeled pumps were obviously not helping her balance in the least and her short skirt was too short, her tank top too snug across her slightly large breasts.

"Just fuck you, bitch! I'm so God damned sick and tired of you fucking red heads! Just because you're so fucking beautiful doesn't give you the right to shit all over the rest of us, stuck up cunt!" the woman screamed at Melanie.

"I'm, what?" Melanie sputtered.

No one had ever accused Melanie of being beautiful.

"Walk in here all sexy and shit, think you fucking own the world, huh?" the woman drunkenly spat at Melanie. "Well, fuck you, Red! I'm beautiful too! Just because I don't have red hair doesn't mean I ain't fucking beautiful too!"

The woman burst into hot tears and stormed out of the bar.

"Um, get you anything?" the bartender asked.

"Vodka and tonic," Melanie stammered, returning her attention to the bartender.

"You got it," the man said and quickly fixed her drink.

"No one's ever said I was beautiful before," Melanie wondered out loud. "Shit, all my life, people just made fun of my red hair and freckles and all."

"Yeah?" the bartender smiled sadly. "Hadn't had prostrate cancer ten years ago, I'd be all over you like white on rice."

Melanie's cell phone buzzed and she took it out.

"Hello?" she asked, still shaking from the confrontation.

"Hey Freckle Face," Melanie heard her blonde lover's voice husk into her ear.

"Melanie!" she excitedly squealed.

"Hey, I'm sorry I was so vague this morning, but you know how it is," the warm loving voice continued. "I never know how long these trips will take, you know?"

"Hey, Melanie, let me ask you something and I need you to be honest with me, all right?" Melanie excitedly said into her phone.

"You got it," her lover said.

"Melanie, am I, you think I'm beautiful?" Melanie asked.

"Absolutely," her lover said without hesitation. "That's why I was so afraid of approaching you; I just knew someone as beautiful as you already had a lover, you know?"

"Nope, just you," Melanie giggled.

"Listen, Freckle Face, I got to go," the voice said. "I'll call you as soon as I can, okay?"

"I love you so much," Melanie admitted, even though she knew she was talking to dead air.

----

The brunette dropped her cell phone into her large handbag, tugged on the wig to make sure it was securely in place and sauntered down the dark street. Even though she was still replaying her brief conversation with Melanie, she was very much aware of her surroundings.

"Yo, bitch," the black man sneered as he approached the brunette. "What you got in that bag, huh?"

"Got a lot of Nunya," the brunette responded, continuing her leisurely stroll.

"Nunya? What the fuck Nunya?" the man asked, puzzled.

"Nunya fucking business," the woman said.

"Oh, I think it's a lot of my business," the man said, pulling out a snub nose pistol.

The first kick knocked the pistol out of his hand, the second kick crushed his larynx, and the third kick pushed him flat on his back.

"Nope, it's nunya," the brunette said and skipped up the stairs into the apartment building.

She tried the elevator button a few times but it did not respond. Sighing, she opened the door to the stairwell and began the five flight trudge.

"Hey," she greeted Vanessa Brady as the young woman was struggling to carry a baby and lug a stroller up the stairs.

"Hey," Vanessa sighed, clearly frustrated.

"Here, let me..." the brunette said and lifted the eight month old baby out of Vanessa's arms. "I'll carry her, you carry the stroller; what floor you live on?"

"Fifth; fucking elevator ain't worked in three God damned months but son of a bitch landlord ain't in no fucking hurry fix the fucking thing," Vanessa shrilled.

"Shh, shh, Mommy isn't mad at you," the brunette soothed to the infant.

"What floor you live on?" Vanessa asked as the woman continued to trudge ahead of her.

"Five; just moved into five twenty," the brunette said casually.

"Mrs. Henner's place?" Vanessa asked. "Well, it WAS her place, then she just up and moved out."

"Yeah, I'm still getting her mail," the brunette agreed.

She lowered her voice to confide in Vanessa, "She sure did get a bunch of dirty magazines!"

"Oh yeah?" Vanessa asked, surprised.

"Yeah, Hustler, Penthouse, and I'm like 'what's some old woman doing getting this kind of stuff?' and them I'm like, 'Uh Duh! She's into girls!'" the brunette giggled.

"Ew!" Vanessa screeched. "And here we are," Vanessa sighed as she opened the door to her apartment.

"Well, all right then," the brunette said as she put the baby into a high chair.

"Thanks; appreciate your help," Vanessa said.

"Uh huh," the brunette said as she looked around the dingy apartment.

The furniture was cheap, much of it very worn, battered.

"Yeah, hate this place," Vanessa said as she saw the other woman looking around. "Hopefully, after Thursday, though, this'll all be in the past, you know?"

"Why? What happens Thursday? Winning the lottery?" the brunette asked, tapping her foot unconsciously.

"No, taking Danielle's deadbeat dad to court for child support," Vanessa said as she took Danielle's food out of the cupboard.

"Oh yeah?" the brunette asked.

"Yeah, mother fucker's all like 'ain't my kid,' and I'm like 'yeah it is; who else I been fucking?' and he's all pissed off 'cause he knows it's his kid, but he's married and he's all afraid his wife's going to find out and..." Vanessa prattled.

The brunette stepped up behind Vanessa and snapped her neck. She laid the lifeless body on the floor, and then finished preparing Danielle's dinner.

"Mama," Danielle fussed as the brunette fed her dinner.

"shh, shh, Mama's sleeping right now," the brunette said to the beautiful little girl.

She then changed the girl's diaper, warmed up a bottle of formula and lay the infant down in her battered, cheap crib.

She easily picked Vanessa's body up, carried it to the bathroom, and stripped the woman. She put one leg into the bathtub, dropped the bar of soap into the tub, and lay the body onto the floor. It looked as if Vanessa had stepped into the tub, stepped on the bar of soap, and fell backward, breaking her neck in the fall.

Then she put the stopper into the tub and started the bathwater.

----

"Door to door," Detective LaRocca ordered the two officers. "Somebody had to have seen something."

The Coroner's office personnel concluded their assessment and placed the black man into a bag and zipped it closed.

"Wind pipe was crushed; he didn't do that to himself," Detective LaRocca snapped as one of the gurney handlers jokingly said, "Must have been suicide."

The Medical Examiner was notorious for putting 'Suicide' or 'Suspected Suicide' on the more difficult cases, rather than do a full investigation. This was particularly true if the body was African American.

----

"Who is it?" Officer James Burdon heard a harsh female voice when he knocked on Apartment 520.

"Police, ma'am, like to ask you a few questions please," Officer Burdon barked.

"What you want?" the old woman asked after cracking the door only an inch and peering around the crack at the young police officer.

"Ma'am, there was a young black man. Downstairs? Was wondering if you knew anything about..." Officer Burdon asked.

"No, that's the one always trying to grab my purse? Huh? The one always yelling stuff when I'm minding my own business? Why you can't just lock him up?" the old woman shrilled, opening the door fully to confront the police officer.

"Ma'am, please..." Officer Burdon said wearily.

"Why there water all over the floor?" the woman asked. "You bring that in my house, huh?" 

"What the fuck?" Officer Burdon's partner, Officer Barry Smith snapped, looking at the floor.

"Coming from here," Officer burdon said, pointing to Apartment 517.

They knocked, then knocked harder. Finally, Officer Smith used his nightstick to rap on the door and they heard an infant cry.

"Break the door," Officer Smith nodded to Officer Burndon as the other officer was slightly more muscular than his partner.

"Uh huh," Officer Burdon sighed, then kicked the door in.

----

Melanie lay in her bed, humming happily. She was in love.

She'd been in love before, but had never had the courage to tell the object of her affection that she loved them. She realized now, that those had been silly schoolgirl crushes.

This, the love she felt for her Melanie, her blonde Melanie, this was real.

"She thinks I'm beautiful," Melanie giggled out loud.

----

"What you going to do with her baby?" the old woman shrilled at the police officer as he bundled Danielle in a blanket.

"Children's Services," he responded.

"Place her in foster care until we can find next of kin," Detective LaRocca wearily said. "Someone call the super about this water?"

"And call him about that elevator, huh?" the old woman shrilled as the police milled about. "Thing's been broken for years now; ain't never done nothing about it."

"No shit, having to walk five flights of stairs," Detective LaRocca agreed. "Tell him next time I got to walk five flights of stairs, I'll find something to lock his ass up for."

"Yeah, heaven forbid you should have to get any kind of exercise," his partner mumbled.

"Fuck you," Detective LaRocca spat.

Chapter 5

Derek watched, amused, as the old woman hobbled into the lobby of the building.

He switched the monitor to the interior camera and blinked.

The old woman was nowhere to be seen.

Then he heard the bell, signaling that the service elevator was being drawn to the penthouse. He rapidly typed in the monitor's code for the service elevator and smiled as Victoria stood, red baseball cap and oversized sunglasses obscuring her features from the camera.

"Hello Vickie," he said as she entered his sanctuary.

"Derek," she nodded.

After he had given permission, she checked her bank account.

"Fifty?" she asked, swiveling in her chair.

"The child's still alive," Derek shrugged.

"The objective was the mother, Vanessa Brady; the order did not mention the child at all," Victoria countered.

Derek's face tightened . If Vickie said the order did not include the child, she was right. She possessed a photographic memory and missed nothing.

"Fine, fine, I apologize," he said, typed rapidly on his keyboard and sighed as he transferred another fifty thousand dollars to her account.

"Now," he said. "The child."

Victoria looked at him for a long moment, waiting.

"Nothing else?" she finally asked.

"No, not at this time," he said and again typed rapidly on his keyboard.

"Okay, bye," Victoria said and walked over to the elevator.

----

Selma Crandall looked up as the large black woman waddled over to where she said.

"Hey, I'm looking for Miss Crandall," the black woman said in a surprisingly high pitched, almost childish voice.

"That's MRS. Not MISS," Selma spat.

"Oh, sorry, they didn't say one way or the other," the woman said. "Anyway, I'm Priscilla. Ames. You supposed be my new supervisor."

"Great, have a seat at..." Selma snarled and looked around for an open workstation.

She sighed and got to her feet.

"Oh, I love them slippers," Priscilla Ames said as Selma padded over to the next row of workstations and found a vacant station.

"Records are on the 'U' drive, requisitions too," Selma said and limped back to her own workstation.

"She always likes that?" Priscilla asked the scrawny man to her left.

"Her?" the man lisped, very obviously gay. "Oh don't mind her; she resents everything and everybody. She is your stereotypical Government Employee, knows an atomic bomb couldn't get her fired and trying her best to prove it to anyone that gives a damn!" 

Priscilla typed on the keyboard and smiled

She sent the print request to the group printer and waddled over to the machine.

Then she put the printout into her purse.

She then typed out another request, read the information and then looked over at her fellow employee. He was busy chatting on-line with his lover. The employee to her right was playing Tetris on her computer.

"Where you going?" Selma snarled as Priscilla Ames waddled to the door.

"Doctor's appointment; told you that ten minutes ago," Priscilla spat back at the surly supervisor.

----

Bonnie Cosgrove had her hands full with the three children Children's Services had left in her care, but thankfully, Danielle Brady was an easy addition. The girl wasn't walking yet, wasn't talking yet, and wasn't very fussy.

"Children's Services," Priscilla Ames said, showing Bonnie the ID card. "Just dropping by to pick up a..."

Priscilla checked her file folder.

"Daniel Brady," she read out.

"You mean 'Danielle,'" Bonnie snapped.

"Huh?" Priscilla asked, blinking.

"Danielle, not Daniel, it's a girl," Bonnie snapped.

"Oh, yeah!" Priscilla laughed. "Anyway, we done found her maternal grandmother so we be stopping by, you know?"

Priscilla took the blonde baby into her pudgy arms and left a packet on the dirty table for Bonnie Cosgrove.

----

Melanie giggled out loud when her phone chirped.

"Hey, Freckle Face," Melanie heard her lover's sweet voice.

"Hey Melanie," Melanie giggled.

"Melanie, can I, I um, I got a real serious question to ask you," her lover said.

"What? What is it?" Melanie asked, losing her smile.

"Um, how you feel about babies?" her lover asked. "See, the thing of it is, I got a nine month old; her name's Pearl and..."

"I love babies," Melanie declared. "When I was little, my mother made me watch all her friends' babies, I got three dollars an hour and..."

"Melanie, I need a really big favor," her lover interrupted her.

----

Victoria looked both ways and slipped into Apartment 517. Quickly, she gathered up all of Danielle's toys, a few extra diapers, bottles, and all of Danielle's clothes she also shoved the child's blanket and small pillow into the diaper bag.

A quick search of Vanessa's bedroom revealed a small cross and chain but no other jewelry.

"Something for you to remember your momma by," Victoria muttered aloud and added it to the small cache.

Again, she searched the hallway, then slipped out of the apartment and into the stairwell.

"Finally, huh?" she said as she quickly changed the child's filthy diaper.

----

Selma Crandall looked around and stomped back to her own desk.

That new member, Priscilla Ames, was no where to be found.

"Show up, aunt even here five minutes, don't come back, huh, think I'm have that in my department? I don't think so," she muttered to herself.

"Oh, but I'm still here," the gay man taunted.

"Hush, Elliot," Selma grumbled.

----

"Oh my God, Melanie, she's gorgeous!" Melanie cooed as the baby stroller was pushed into the apartment.

"Melanie, sweetie, I, we got to talk, Baby, okay?" Victoria said and urged the red head to the couch.

"What? What's wrong?" Melanie asked, voice quavering.




Unknown



"Oh my God, I adore you; you are just so gorgeous; I just love your red hair!" Victoria enthused, and gave Melanie a warm, loving kiss.

"Shut up!" Melanie argued, covering her face with her hands.

"But, Melanie, sweetie, listen, when I told you my name is Melanie, I kind of lied to you," Victoria said, kneeling on the couch next to Melanie.

"You what?" Melanie asked, looking at Victoria.

"You have any idea how fucking beautiful you are?" Victoria asked, letting long strands of Melanie's hair trickle through her fingers. "I would have told you anything to get to be with you. You'd have said you were into guys? I would have told you I got a dick, you're that beautiful. So, when you told me your name was Melanie, I just said 'me too,' you know, just so you and I, we'd have that in common."

"You lied?" Melanie asked, looking at her lover.

"Yeah, my real name is Victoria Lynne Stevens," Victoria said and pulled out her wallet. "See? Here's my driver's license."

"But you didn't need to lie," Melanie protested.

"I know, but you walked into that bar and I'd seen you on the bus the other day and oh my God! I wanted so bad to talk to you and then you come into that bar and I just couldn't let you slip away again so I bought you a drink and..." Victoria rambled.

"But as beautiful as you are," Melanie argued.

"God! Not nearly as beautiful as you," Victoria enthused. 

She looked into Melanie's eyes, dark sunglasses hiding her own eyes from view.

"Forgive me?" she asked, letting a few more strands of Melanie's long red hair trickle through her fingers.

"I guess," Melanie agreed.

"Thank you," Victoria murmured, kissing the flustered woman.

"Now, let's get you fed," Victoria said to the now fussy Danielle.

"So, um, what now?" Melanie asked as Victoria bustled about.

"Couple more things, probably take me a day or two, you got anything to do next couple of days?" Victoria asked.

"No, not really," Melanie said.

"Put some music on; Pearl likes Taylor Swift too," Victoria said as she sat at the small table, the child in her lap.

----

"M.E. report right there," Detective Graham nodded with his head toward the file folder on Detective LaRocca's desk.

"Yeah? On who?" Detective LaRocca asked.

"Andy Anders," Detective Graham said and coughed into his handkerchief again.

"Who, oh, oh yeah, that kid got his throat kicked in," Detective LaRocca said and opened the file.

"Says here larynx crushed, bruise shows a small abrasion, nearly a puncture wound," Detective LaRocca mused aloud.

"Yeah? What's that mean?" Detective Graham asked.

"Like a woman's shoe, stiletto heel," Detective Larocca said, looking up. "Now, that boy was six feet; some woman kicked him that hard in the throat, either she was seven foot tall or he was already on the ground when she gave him that little kick."

----

Danielle shrieked with happiness as the two women fussed over her and bathed her.

She also shrieked with laughter as the two women splashed each other with the sudsy water.

Clean, happy, fed, the child lay down on the makeshift 'bed' of couch cushions and fell asleep.

"Now," Victoria said and began to tug at Melanie's wet tee shirt. "Let's get you out of these wet clothes.

"Gee, I wonder how they got all wet?" Melanie laughed.

"Anything else wet?" Victoria asked, rubbing her wet body against her lover.

"Mm hmmm," Melanie agreed, kissing Victoria deeply.

Chapter 6

Derek watched as the maintenance crew rigged up the scaffolding on the western wall of the building. Their intrusion irritated him, and the building's management company had been of no assistance whatsoever when he'd called for information.

"General cleaning, near as I can figure," the bored girl had suggested to him.

He looked up in surprise as he heard the bell's soft ding, alerting him that the service elevator was on its way up.

A quick look of the security camera in the elevator showed him that Victoria was on her way up to see him.

"Vickie," he greeted her, putting the nine millimeter pistol back into it's holster.

"Derek," she nodded back.

"Objective reached?" he asked.

"Of course," Victoria said. "Child was removed from foster facility; Children's Services doesn't even know the kid's missing yet." 

"Good, good; anyway, what'd you do with her?" Derek asked.

"Safe and sound," Victoria assured him.

"I don't want her safe and sound!" Derek thundered, letting a rare moment of rage show.

"Don't worry; she won't be coming back on you," Victoria said, not letting his anger affect her.

"Do you understand me?" Derek spat. "I want the little bitch eliminated!"

"Understood," Victoria said and nodded toward the computer she always used.

"No!" Derek said. "You will get your money when the kid's no longer a threat to me."

"Okay," Victoria said and walked over to the elevator.

He typed on his keyboard, his anger causing him to strike the keys loudly.

"Yes?" he heard a deep male voice ask.

"You have a new objective," Derek said, pointing to the computer at the smaller desk.

Roger Scott sat at the monitor.

"Name's Victoria Lynne Stevens, last known address is..." Derek said.

"I can read," Roger informed his supervisor.

"Anyway, objective to be activated forty eight hours from now," Derek said.

"Again, I can read," the man said and stood up.

"Thank you, Roger," Derek said and looked out the window as a maintenance man used a long handled squeegee to clean the window.

He then watched the man check the window's seals. The man reached into a buck and began applying a thick paste to the window's joints. Then the man used a putty knife to tamp down the sealant. The procedure was repeated several times around the periphery of the entire window.

"man takes pride in his work; that's for sure," Derek mused aloud. "Anyway, back to it."

----

The old woman entered the library and went to the bank of computers. All of them were in use so she sat to wait her turn. Finally, one of the old men sighed loudly and logged off.

"All yours, Sugar Pie," he leered at the old woman.

"Thanks," the old woman muttered and sat down.

She blinked in irritation; her account not only did not contain the hundred thousand for the elimination of Danielle Brady, it was divested of the three million, eight hundred thousand that was supposed to be there.

She smiled tightly to herself, typed a few times on the sticky keyboard, pulled up another page and made several rapid fire commands on the keyboard. She smiled in satisfaction, then purged the computer's History then set the computer to do a scheduled defragmentation and rose from her seat.

----

"Got your woman," Detective Graham informed his partner then began laughing, which led to a severe coughing spell.

"What the fuck you talking about?" Detective LaRocca asked.

"Holding her in Pod three," Detective Graham said, smiling.

"Pod... With the men?" Detective LaRocca asked.

He left the room and walked down to Pod three.

There, he saw the nearly seven foot tall transvestite sitting on the lower bunk, dangling an impossibly large high heeled pump off of one foot.

"Hey Sweet Lips, what'd they pop you for?" Detective LaRocca laughed.

"Solicitation," the transvestite glumly said.

"Mind if I take a look at your left shoe?" Detective LaRocca asked.

"Fifty bucks, you can look at whatever you want," the man suggested.

"Just the shoe, darling," Detective LaRocca said.

"Fine, here, hard as fuck to walk in," the man said and kicked the shoe over to the cell door.

"Be hard as fuck kill someone with it too, huh?" he muttered to himself as he looked at the bottom of the shoe.

There was very little possibility that the fat heel of this shoe could have killed Andy Anders.

"Hey, Sweet Lips, own any stiletto heels?" Detective LaRocca asked, sliding the man his shoe.

"No! Who would try to wear those? Oh, but I do have some very sexy platform boots," the man said, slipping his shoe back on.

"Thanks, Baby," Detective LaRocca said. "Now, you get out of there, you are a good girl, you hear?"

"Oh, believe me, I have no desire to come back here," the man said.

"Very funny," Detective LaRocca smirked at his partner, which caused Detective Graham to have another coughing fit.

"Fuck man, go home, and get someone else sick besides me, huh?" Detective LaRocca said and looked over the files on his desk again.

----

"Yeah, Mr. Ali-Jabi asked me to get that passport," Melanie said as she watched Victoria put together the high chair for Pearl.

"And I got one, got one for Pearl yesterday," Victoria smiled as she put the last screw into place, then picked up Danielle, who was busy playing with the box the new chair came in.

"Think he wanted me to go to Syria with him; said he was planning on going there next summer," Melanie went on. "Why?"

"Parlez vous francais?" Victoria asked as she began feeding Danielle.

"What?" Melanie asked.

"Do you speak French?" Victoria asked.

"No, not really," Melanie said.

"No problem, I do," Victoria said and smiled as Danielle happily opened her mouth for more of the sweet apple sauce.

"Are we going to France?" Melanie asked.

"Calgary, Canada first, then Paris," Victoria said and looked at her lover. "That okay?"

"Are you kidding?" Melanie asked. 

"No, is that okay? Or do you have family here that would be all worried about you?" Victoria asked.

"No, my dad took off when I was seven or eight; my mom died two years ago and my step-dad don't want shit to do with me," Melanie said, spitting the words out. 

"Okay; I'll get the tickets tomorrow; pack up anything you just CAN'T live without," Victoria smiled as Danielle finished her applesauce.

"Um, Victoria? Are we...?" Melanie tried to ask.

"We're leaving, Melanie," Victoria said flatly.

"Are we, are you in some kind of trouble?" Melanie whispered.

"No; just want to get out of here," Victoria said

"Victoria, please?" Melanie begged. "Please don't lie to me, please?"

"Okay, Melanie, here's the truth, plain and simple," Victoria sighed.

She looked at the bottle of vodka on the counter and then smiled tightly at Melanie.

"Fix us a drink first, okay? You're going to need it," she said.

Melanie got to shaky legs and fixed them both strong drinks and sat back down at the table.

"My name is Victoria Stevens; you're the first person outside of the agency to know my real name in, oh God, six years," Victoria said. "This isn't Pearl Ann Billings, though, Pearl Billings died three months ago, Sudden Infant Death Syndrome. This is Danielle Rayne Brady. I eliminated her mother four days ago. For the agency."

Melanie sat, staring at her lover. Her pale features were even more pale as all the blood had left her face.

"That's what I do; I'm an assassin," Victoria said and took a sip of her drink, then coughed slightly. "Fuck, Melanie, trying to get me drunk?"

"Are you going to kill me too?" Melanie sobbed out, terrified.

"If I was, you would already be dead," Victoria said, no smile on her lips. "Anyway, for whatever reason, my supervisor ordered me to eliminate Danielle too. She's eight months old. She hasn't even taken her first step yet. Well, I couldn't do it. So, we're leaving and taking Pearl Ann Billings with us."

"If I don't want to go?" Melanie asked, voice trembling with fear.

"Then I guess I'll have to go without you," Victoria admitted.

She linked her fingers with Melanie's and looked into Melanie's eyes.

"But I'm begging you to come with us; I love you," Victoria said. "Melanie, you're the first person I've ever loved since I don't know when. I, Melanie, I want you to go with me, with us."

Melanie guzzled her drink, then got up and wobbled down the hallway to the small bedroom. Victoria watched the young woman as she entered the bedroom and looked around slowly. Then Melanie disappeared from sight.

Melanie reappeared a moment later, carrying a purse. She came back into the small kitchen/dining room and sat back down.

"Okay, I'm ready," Melanie said, voice still shaking.

"Thank you," Victoria said, letting out a breath she did not know she had been holding.

----

Derek looked out the window at another beautiful sunrise. Behind him, Roger sat at the monitor, memorizing the file on Victoria Lynne Stevens.

"Anonymity is the greatest weapon an assassin can have," he muttered.

"No, it's the mind," Derek argued, still looking out the window.

"Ah, but the chameleon quite often catches smarter prey, simply by disguising itself," Roger reminded his supervisor.

"Anyway," Derek said, indicating that the discussion was over.

"Uh huh," Roger said and shook his head at yet another one of Victoria's known disguises popped up on the screen.

Derek frowned as the red line buzzed.

"Lieutenant Colonel Thompson," he barked into the telephone.

"Hi Derek, you sitting or standing?" Victoria asked.

"Vickie, you are not supposed to ever call me on this phone," Derek spat, outraged at her insubordinance.

"Uh huh," she said easily. "Anyway, might want to check your account."

"What?" Derek spat and typed on his keyboard.

"Really Derek, stealing from me?" Victoria giggled as he sucked in his breath.

"How did you?" he said through clenched teeth.

"Hey, I only took back my three point eight," Victoria said. "But I understand . Why leave that kind of money when the member's going to be eliminated, huh?"

"Precisely," Derek snapped, highly irritated.

"Well, good bye Derek," Victoria said lightly. "Oh, and tell Roger 'Tough shit.'"

"What? Why tell..." Derek asked.

Victoria pushed the 'send' button on her cell phone, activating the plastic explosives she'd spackled around Derek's window.

The large window imploded, cutting Derek and Roger into several small chunks of meat.

"Fuck, that was loud," Victoria said, stepping off the service elevator.

She put the two handguns that had been used in the elimination of Andeer Ali-Jabi, Cofor, and Husbah into Derek's desk drawer, along with Booger's can of nuts. Several small packets of crack cocaine and crystal meth also found their way into Derek's desk drawer.

She looked around and smiled as she saw one of the security cameras still dangling from its mooring. The red light was not on, though, indicating that it was not recording.

It would not have mattered if it had been recording, anyway. Derek's security tapes were located in a mobile home in a trailer park he owned. No one would think to look for such top secret evidence in such a run-down trailer park.

She stepped onto the elevator and entered the code to descend.

----

Melanie looked around nervously. The waiting room was filling up quickly. Their flight for Calgary would be leaving in just thirty minutes and there was still no sign of Victoria.

Suddenly, the older brunette woman that had accosted her that night in the bar staggered over to where Melanie and Danielle sat, waiting.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't little miss 'my shit don't stink,'" the woman drunkenly sneered at Melanie. "Still think you're too good for anyone buy you a fucking drink?"

"My lover will be here any minute now and I don't think she'd appreciate you speaking to me like that," Melanie said bravely.

"Just because I ain't as pretty as you don't mean I'm a piece of shit, stuck up bitch," the woman shrilled and staggered away.

"Good God, what was that all about?" one of the gate attendants asked no one in particular as the brunette swayed drunkenly into a restroom.

Melanie sighed in relief as Victoria hurried out of the restroom and located her and Danielle.

"Man!" she said as she took her seat next to Melanie. "There was some drunk woman hollering and yelling about some red head out here," Victoria said then looked sharply at Melanie.

"She talking about you?" Victoria accused.

"Maybe," Melanie smiled playfully. "You're not the only one thinks I'm pretty."

The End.



Unknown



Mike's father was going to be away for the weekend. He had a business trip interstate, or some such thing. Anyway, with the house to himself, Mike invited some of us over for a bit of a party.

His actual invites went out to about a dozen of us, but twenty turned up. This was typical, and Mike had allowed for the increase in numbers. A couple of the meaner looking guys lingered around out the front for a while, chasing off the idiots who like to crash other people's parties. 

They were especially nasty sounding to the younger teens who thought they were great stuff. Those sort of idiots tended to lack both a sense of proportion and a sense of decorum. They'd turn the party into a riot and bring the cops down on us so, no thanks, kiddies. Piss off and find your own party.

Not that we didn't have our own idiots who lacked decorum and a sense of proportion. You'll always get them.

Anyway, the party went along splendidly and we all had a fine time. Most of the evening we were in the backyard, but as night came on, and with it a decided drop in the temperature, we sort of migrated into the house.

I suppose there were about a dozen of us in the front room when Caro and Greg started pashing on. I mention this because it's a direct reference to people with no sense of proportion or decorum. Caro and Greg were just totally ignoring the rest of us, making out big time. I suspect that they'd forgotten we were even there.

The rest of us seemed to quieten down, watching the two of them in action. I expected someone to tell them to get a room at any moment, but we all seemed just too amused to want to disturb them. That was up until the time that Caro unzipped Greg and hauled out this cock, which was standing tall.

Now I wasn't a virgin. I'd seen and touched a cock or two (singly -- not two at once) but I'd never seen a man's erection put so blatantly on display in public. Several of the women gave shocked gasps, me amongst them.

And a little voice behind me said "Meh," in a most dismissive manner.

The next thing I knew a hand had taken hold of mine and pressed it against a crotch, and I fully understood why the man had been so dismissive of Greg's equipment. I hurriedly snatched my hand away, refusing to turn and see who the crude person behind me was.

Caro and Greg were still pashing, and I have to admit it was a little exciting to watch them go. It didn't take any stretch of the imagination to know what those two were going to finish up doing, and if they didn't wake up to themselves they'd be doing it as a public exhibition.

I suppose that touch of excitement was why I didn't protest when a hand slipped under my skirt and ran over my bottom. I did, however, turn, frowning, to see who was man-handling my bottom. I couldn't see. Whoever it was caught my head while it was turning and pointed it forward again. Apparently they didn't want me to know who it was.

I decided to put up with that gentle touch on my bottom for a moment or two. I mean, it was rather exciting being stoked like that by someone unknown, and no-one around me seeming to notice. 

I jumped a little when a finger hooked onto my panties. I could feel the panties being drawn away from me and over to the side and when they settled back against me they were running alongside my mound instead of covering it.

That gentle bottom stroking started up again, and now there was more for it to stroke. Delicate fingertips brushed over my bottom and then over other places, if you get my meaning.

If I'd felt a touch of excitement watching Caro and Greg, that excitement flared quite dramatically when fingernails scratched very light along the length of my pussy, teasing my lips in a very intriguing manner.

Then the hand moved away. I thought that was it and was going to excuse myself so I could rearrange my panties when my hand was taken and pressed against the same crotch as before. I knew it was the same one as I could feel the size of what was there. The difference this time was that he was unzipped and my hand just naturally went past the zip and closed over what was inside.

Of course I snatched my hand away again. No way was I holding a man's cock in public. But I'd certainly had a decent feel of it for a moment or two. It was hot and it was hard. 

I again tried to turn around to see who it was, and again the man prevented me. Not actually stopping me, but indicating I was to keep facing front, so I did.

A finger hooked over the waist of my skirt and gently pulled me, getting me to back up a little. The pull didn't lessen and I found that I was backing right out of the room. 

"He's taking you somewhere," a little voice whispered to me, "and you know what's going to happen when he gets you there."

I denied it, of course. He might be coaxing me into another room but it would only be for a bit of touchy-feely, and I'd at least know who it was. Not knowing might have added a touch of wicked excitement, but knowing would let me decide just how far to let him go. Sex was not on, but the way I was feeling a bit of petting wouldn't go astray.

"You're lying to yourself," said that little voice. "I bet that once he's got you alone he's going to strip you naked and ravish your helpless little body, relishing your feeble struggles and screams while he plunders all your treasures."

Now that was going a bit too far. Even if that was his intention, a single scream would bring help running. 

"If he lets you scream," came the reply.

I suppose the gist of my little internal argument was whether to take the chance and go with the man, the unknown man, and find out more about him, or whether to cut and run. I didn't seriously expect him to try and have sex with me, although he'd almost certainly chance his arm. But was I going to find myself in a position where I'd have to yell or fight him off?

It seems I really have to learn to argue faster with myself. I hadn't even come to a decision when I heard a door closing behind me and I was in another room. The light was out, but there was enough moonlight coming through the open window for me to know I was in a bedroom.

I reached for a light switch so I could see who I was with, but hadn't connected before I was propelled towards the bed and found myself bending over it. Then that blasted hand was stroking me again. 

I squirmed slightly under the touch, still wanting to know who was there.

"Who are you?" I asked. "Turn on the light and let me see, or I'm out of here."

My question was ignored. Instead, my panties came down, and I was having even more attention paid to my most sensitive areas. I managed to turn my head to look at my new-found friend but there just wasn't enough light to see who. I had the impression of size, but a number of the guys were quite big, so that didn't really help.

One hand slid up my back and unhooked my bra and then it moved around to fondle my breast. My hand was directed back to his erection and this time it wasn't hiding inside his trousers. OK. Maybe this time I did take the time to kind of familiarise myself with it. I didn't really mean to, but when a man had his hand wandering all over your privates it's only reasonable and polite to at least touch his. I mean, it was only touching. I wasn't exactly agreeing to anything else and if he suggested it I'd turn him down flat.

He didn't suggest anything else. One moment he was stroking my pussy, which I will admit was feeling hot, wet and somewhat excited, and the next his cock was pushing its way into me. I opened my mouth to protest, but what could I say? The blasted thing was already sliding in.

At the same time his hands had hold of my breasts, pulling me towards him, sort of helping to push me onto his cock.

He was taking me slowly, too. His cock was just easing into position. I was so wet it was like a greased flagpole being pushed into me, and it felt that size, too. I was effectively struck dumb by his sheer audacity, sticking me like that without a single word of warning. He just parted my lips and in he came.

It's amazing how conscious you become of a cock when it's inside you. You may be aware that a man has one, especially if you've been playing handies with it, but once that thing sneaks past your lips you are AWARE of it. It shouts I AM A COCK AND I'M TAKING YOU, letting you know in no uncertain terms that you're a woman. 

Be they gentle or be they rough, when that cock slots home you know it.

This guy was gentle. I was furious that I didn't know who had so suddenly pronged me, but I had to concede that he was a gentle lover, entering me slowly and giving me ample time to adjust. I was actually starting to look forward to a nice comfortable episode.

I can be so gullible at times. This wasn't some Romeo gently loving his Juliet. This was Attila the Hun, carefully scouting out new territory before plundering it. He started with a few gentle strokes where he pulled almost fully out and then slid slowly back in. I rose gracefully to meet him, pushing back against him, feeling him slide deep inside me.

Then holy fuck! The son-of-a-bitch turned into a pile driving maniac. He had my pussy sized up, all nicely stretched and capable of taking all of him. Now he was delivering.

His cock came charging into me, with me lifting onto my toes and trying to make sure I was properly positioned. I didn't even have time to gasp before he was coming back again. From there on it wasn't pretty. He pounded into my poor pussy while I was frantically bouncing up and down, desperate to meet him and take him fully. At the same time his hands clamped down on my breasts like traps, crushing them and rubbing them.

I swear, if he'd been hitting me any harder I'd have gone flying over the bed. I was helpless before his storming assault, unable to do anything but try to meet the rhythm he was enforcing on me. He pummelled me, pounded me and totally shafted me, driving me wild.

I had the rather naïve belief that at the rate he was going it would soon be over. I figured he wouldn't be able to keep it up without blowing and, even if he didn't, the incessant pounding would be sure to trigger a climax for me. I was looking forward to it.

It turned out that Attila the Hun had his hordes in the bedroom with him and they were all pounding my pussy. I couldn't believe that a single man could go on like that. And on, and on.

I can always tell when my climax is approaching. It sort of gives me this little warning tap on the shoulder and I can play towards it. This time when I felt that little tap and waited expectantly, nothing happened. That is, nothing, if you consider Attila nothing. 

My climax was waiting but it didn't seem to want to come out and join the fun while Attila was demonstrating his prowess. My pussy was abused, my breasts were playthings, my excitement rose, my nerves screwed tighter and tighter and still I was getting screwed.

As far as I could tell I was already long past the point where I would normally have been screaming out yes, yes, yes, and climaxing. As it was I was just saying ah, ah, ah, as I was totally dominated by an unknown man in a darkened bedroom.

I wouldn't have thought it possible for that man to increase his speed and power, but he managed it. He suddenly gave this powerful thrust that actually lifted me off my feet, then he was raining short express thrusts into me and his hands closed so firmly on my breasts that I was sure that I'd have hand shaped bruises on them.

I knew he was coming. I didn't need that hot splash to tell me. With my climax finally deciding the time was right the whole world just seemed to come apart around me.

When I came out of it I was lying over the end of the bed like an abandoned doll. My pussy was sore, my breasts were sore and my whole body was humming with delight. I was just going to lie there for a bit longer but then the thought of what would it look like if someone came into the room. That was enough to get me on my feet and my clothes tidied up.

I took a couple of steps towards the door, stopped and then took a few turns around the room until I was pretty sure I could walk without my legs wobbling.

I went hunting.

And came up empty handed. OK, I could dismiss the little guys, I thought, but could I? I mean, I'd been bent over the bed and looking up and back. Of course he'd have loomed large and appeared big, especially in the dark. No-one looked at me funny. All the guys still seemed to be there. I was screwed, but I had no way of telling who by.

The party wound down shortly after that. I went to say goodbye to Mike and found him in the kitchen with his father.

I mentioned to Mike that I thought his father was on a business trip. 

"He was supposed to be but it got cancelled at the last moment. He let me have the party anyway and just kept out of everyone's way."

Anyway, I said goodnight to Mike and nodded a goodbye to his father. His father gave me this big smile and nodded back.

"Do come again, won't you. It's been a pleasure having you."

I blinked, and looked at him. He was just standing there, smiling blandly. He was a big man, I noticed. The sort of man who'd really loom over you in a dark room. But he was old. He must be around forty. I could feel his eyes following me right up to the point where I closed the door behind me.



Unknown



I descended deeply beyond relaxation into meditative unconsciousness. The world around me disappeared, my energy melded with the natural energy of the earth. I escaped from my know world onto a band of energy propelling me past sights I knew to sights my mind's eye could not comprehend. No, this was not some kind of drug-induced trip.

A distant voice softly spoke the words that would bring me back to my conscious state. The energy band began reversing as reality returned. I noticed the time, five minutes had passed. Then my eyes focused on the lack of sun light in the room. Finally and fully back from my meditative unconsciousness, the "shenim" bade me welcome back with hot Jobe's Tears tea.

With recorders running to capture video and audio, the "shenim" asked me relate where I went and what I saw. The more I talked, the less sense I made. I was in my trance state for about a day and a half. 

"You had a rare and beautiful journey that few experience," shenim said. "Your confusion is normal although you make sense of it, you cannot express it in words." 

I felt no hunger or thirst and sipped my tea. When invited to stand, my legs would not obey my brain signals; I stumbled and teetered until my legs rediscovered their purpose. Shenim helped me disrobe for the ritualistic cleansing bath. Afterward, I dressed in my clothing for a light repast. My weekend was over, I was prepared to face a world of unknowns but with the knowledge that unknown is not really unknown.

**********

I came home to a household I no longer recognized. I knew I had changed while those around me had not. I was taught, indoctrinated, by society that I should follow a path leading to years of indentured servitude to work and to dream of retirement. It was time to escape.

My first day back to work was the best day of my life; phase one of my escape began with a trip to supply for boxes and tape. I packed my personal belongings, stepped into the boss?s office with a simple, "I quit."

With my car packed and only enough room for me to safely drive, I headed toward the unknown without a map. My life is in my hands not someone else. I knew what I would miss and that knowledge made my conviction stronger. I also knew what I wanted and that knowledge affirmed my conviction.

**********

My drive took me to ocean beaches, mountain retreats, desert oasis, and then I found a small town, ghost town really, in the foothills of the Southwest. What was left of the sign-entering town announced, "You have reached Oblivion."

A resident rattle snake greeted me with its rattle and tight coil as if ready to strike at this person who just disturbed its sunbathing. I smiled saying, "I'm not your enemy, Mister Snake. I may want to be your neighbor."

As if satisfied, the snake relaxed its coil and seemed to point me toward the only building in town that looked habitable. It became my destination for the moment.

Outside, I heard a gas powered motor churning away and realized it was an electric generator providing a little power to some lights in the building. A hand written note on the wall read, "Its open - come on in." I did.

The inside was just barely livable with sparse pieces of furniture, an ice chest, a small fan, and a single bed in a corner. Yet it was the resident of the place who surprised me. A smiling young woman greeted me with an outstretched hand for a handshake. 

"Welcome to Oblivion, the last stop of your journey." Her voice was pleasant and her smile seemed genuine. "My name is Charlene, call me Charlie."

The last stop on my journey were her words, how could she presume that, I wondered. "Charlie, thank you, I am, ready, Charles, also know as Charlie. How is it that you think this is the last stop of my journey?"

"I watched you stop at the town line. I watched you get out, saw you react to the rattler, and watched as you waved your hand to calm it. You're home."

I had to admit, Charlie was attractive and, I guessed, in her early thirties. I wondered why she was alone in a ghost town. 

"Is Oblivion your home, Charlie?" I asked the question thinking I knew the answer.

Charlie looked at me before beginning her answer. I sensed she didn't want to tell the whole story but then the floodgates opened; she began crying and pent up emotion boiled over.

I had a hard time following her story; however, I learned she had been married to a guy who only wanted her to use her body to win him favors. When she was done telling her story, she finished with, "So, Oblivion is my home. And you are the first man to enter my home in three years. You are almost the only person to enter my home in three years."

I recalled my thoughts as I drove into town, recalled telling the snake I may want to be a neighbor. After meeting Charlie, I felt that thought being cemented.

"What's your story, Charlie," she asked as calm began to return.

My story of the shenim, my journey into deep trance, and my return to the present was not the story she told; yet she seemed to hold on to each morsel. "My life changed and here I am in Oblivion."

**********

For the better part of a week, we explored the town trying to find a suitable place for me to set up camp. I was more concerned for finding us a place. 

One old house seemed in reasonably good condition, it was wired and had plumbing. It had an old well and older pump handle that began working after being primed several times. The water was hard, as is the case with wells, yet it was good water and drinkable with purification tablets. I set down my first new roots and began cleaning the old house. 

There were surprises throughout that old house. The kitchen was more modern than I expected, had a gas stove connected to an old LP tank and there was gas in the tank. There was also an old refrigerator I hoped still had some cooling power. The kitchen became first priority. 

Charlie was always near. Though she hadn't left her run down shack, she wasn't in it much. 

Rooms in this old house still had bits of furniture that cleaned up pretty well although dust always flew every time someone sat. There were three bedrooms and in one was a full size double bed, the mattress protected in plastic wrap as if the resident had just bought it.

"Charlie," I asked, "why didn't you take this place? It is much nicer than the one you are staying in now."

She smiled, "I guess I was waiting for you to get it cleaned up."

"Waiting for three years?" 

"Charlie," she began, "do you think my little generator can run the refrigerator?" She sat next to me on the dusty sofa as a plume of dust swirled about us. "Yes, waiting three years."

There was a new familiarity in her voice as we both waved our hands in an attempt to clear the dust. Charlie swept her hand left as my swept right. Our hands touched and in a reflex action either she grasped my hand or I grasped hers; our fingers interlaced holding hands.

I had a list of things I needed to make this old house more livable suddenly realizing the list was for two, not one. 

"Your generator won't push out the watts needed for that old refrigerator but I'm thinking it is about time for me to go to town and order supplies. I need gas for the stove, a heavy-duty generator, and a vacuum to really attack all the dust in the furniture. It would be nice if you came with me."

"Yes, Charles, it would be nice to come with you." Her double meaning was not missed; I leaned in and kissed her dusty cheek. "Would you mind letting me use your bathtub for a real bath?"

"Not much hot water for a real soaking bath, but you are welcome to anything I have." Charlie leaned into me and returned a kiss on my dusty stubble beard cheek. Why was she being formal, calling me Charles?

**********

Charlie and I loaded into her pickup truck. The camper shell over the bed would offer some protection from dust and dirt getting into our purchases and we could haul much more than in my car. We had a big shopping list.

One thing on my agenda was visiting the courthouse and research property records for our little town. Court records produced no known owners for any of the properties in Oblivion and listed each as blighted and unsafe.

The recorder of deeds found an original builders name for the house I occupied and found an original blue print plan. I asked for copies and set off to find a Realtor to begin inquiries into buying property in Oblivion.

Charlie was taking care of groceries and personal shopping while I was off to make some major purchases. Top of the list was a generator that could carry a whole house that would take weeks to arrive and install. I rented a small 10,000-watt generator. I ordered a new 1500-gallon LP gas tank and fuel for delivery tomorrow. A whole house water filtering system was on the list as well.

I thought about the dusty old mattress in the old house and decided to buy a new queen size bed and frame. Of course, new bedding was a must. Was I buying all this for me, or was I thinking ahead?

My phone rang and I noticed it was the Realtor I visited calling me. "Charlie," she said, "Oblivion is for sale, the whole town."

That sentence sent my mind into overdrive. In a complete spur of the moment decision, I bought Oblivion.

Charlie and I reconnected after our day of shopping. With her pickup loaded, we headed back to the town I just bought. "Charlie," I began with just a bit of hesitance in my voice, "I have what I hope is a surprise."

She turned away from driving to glance my way, "What kind of surprise?"

"I bought Oblivion. I bought the whole damn thing. If you want to take permanent residence, the population of Oblivion just doubled."

Charlie asked a simple question that had far reaching implications, "Do I stay in my little shack or can I live in the manner house? I notice you bought some new furnishings." Clearly, she referred to the queen size bed.

We had not been sexual at all in these first few days and couple weeks. We did not sleep in the same house but Charlie was never far from my side. "There may be room in the manner house and an open invitation."

"Charlie," she tentatively began, "I haven't slept with a man or anyone for three years. Don't expect too much. I live in Oblivion to escape a bad relationship and starting a new one frightens me."

"Charlie, in case you hadn't noticed, you are already in a new relationship and I am part of it. I haven't moved on you except for a kiss on the cheek that you returned. And, I haven't misinterpreted some of your double meanings, have I?"

Charlie gave her head a shake, "No you haven't."

**********

Charlie drove us to my house and we set about getting things unloaded. The top priority was the generator and setting it up was easier than I expected. With it running at full power, I plugged in the refrigerator and flipped the switch. Almost immediately the compressor kicked in and the refrigerator was working. Now, the all-important test, is it cooling?

I strung some more wires for lights and got the house reasonably comfortable. The freezer compartment was frosting up in the refrigerator and the interior temperature was falling. A new refrigerator was in need soon but for now, I had fresh food storage.

I bought one of those advertised vacuums that is supposed to clean without losing power, Charlie had already emptied the dust bin three times and about to dump a fourth.

I wasn't sure, however, Charlie seemed happy as she worked around the house. With some power on, it was time to set up the bed. "Hey, Charlie, I'm setting up the bed, where do you think I should put it?"

She appeared in the frame of the door and replied, "Bedroom is the obvious place." The grin on her face was infectious, brightened the room, and had me under her spell.

"Okay, then! I'll be more specific. Placement. Where shall I place it in the bedroom?" 

I thought I had covered the bases, yet Charlie was not to be bested. "On the floor," she giggled with complete abandon and thorough enjoyment.

"This is getting no where," I shared her laugh. "If you were sleeping in this room and in this bed, Charlie, where would you like it positioned - in the bedroom on the floor?"

Charlie paused deep in reflective thought before saying anything else. The pause was longer than I suspected it should take, I held my breath. 

Charlie's continence changed, she was on the verge of speaking when I noticed a quiver on her lips. "Charlie," she began with tentative words forming one at a time. "If was sleeping in this bedroom in this bed, I'd place it where I could share it with you."

It was said, out in the open, no denial, share it with you, she said. There was no more hesitation on her part or mine, we leapt into the others embrace and kissed our first lovers kiss.

As I held her tightly savoring the word share, I whispered, "Thank you for saying what I've wanted to say days ago. We share, tonight and many more nights to come."

We redoubled our cleaning efforts getting the house into an almost acceptable state. One task I had to undertake was the hot water heater. It was small and surely needing a thorough draining and cleaning. A new water heater was on the list with a new refrigerator.

After almost ninety minutes of flushing, the water in the water heater ran clean. I restarted the pilot light and soon water was heating. Maybe I could have a hot shower and Charlie a hot soaking bath.

It dawned on me; Charlie shopped in town but hadn't mentioned anything about her purchases. She had shopping bags neatly stacked by the front door and now moved to them, ready to put them away. She carried them to 'our' bedroom.

Our first kiss lead us many more kisses and touches throughout the afternoon and evening. Every time we glimpsed the other it was hands touching hands, smiles, little pecks of kisses, and a few very deep and foretelling kisses and gropes. There is no way in the world she could mistake my hard cock for a tool in my pocket. There was no way I could mistake her sighs for anything else but her own excitement.

We reached a point in our housework that little more could be done; Charlie set about making us a light dinner. In the refrigerator was a six-pack of beer and we each took one. The cold brew washed down the day?s activities and the supper filled our hungry void. When all was done, we collapsed on the dusty couch, less dusty from a deep vacuuming and reflected.

"Seriously, I bought this whole town?" It was more of an exclamation than question.

Charlie looked at me as if to ask, "Buyers remorse?"

It was an unspoken question and with a smile on my face, "I haven't met all the neighbors but I have met the most attractive neighbor."

Charlie slapped the leg of her dusty dirty jeans and a plume of dust rose. "Attractive? I'm dust and dirt from head to toe. No make up, hair a mess," sniffing at herself she concluded, "and I smell!"

"I bet you clean up nice. There is hot water for a soaking bath if you want. I'll shower after you."

Charlie began to move as if rising then she quickly straddled my lap settling down on my crotch. "Charlie, remember, it been a long time for me," her voice cooed. "I'm anxious and afraid that when you get the wrapping off, you won't like what you see."

Charlie was referring to her naked body and, of course, we had never gone far enough to catch even a glimpse. "Charlene, I've kissed you with passion and felt your body against mine. I'm sure you've felt my reaction to your body. I'll pass on the dusty dirty you but I won't pass on you."

Charlie reacted as I suspected she might. Our lips met as we kissed more passionately than I had ever kissed a woman. She ground her hips against mine as my hands trailed down her back, to her waist, and over the curves of her hips. Her butt was encased in her jeans yet the fullness and softness of her hips told me she was not hiding anything unattractive.

Charlie's breath became deeper until she pressed hard into me and gave a moan. I wasn't sure if she had an orgasm, but she quickly got up and ran to the bathroom. The toilet flushed and I heard water running in the tub.

After her bath, Charlie called out, "Charlie, there is a pink bag from town in the bedroom. Bring it to me, please."

I found the boutique bag and delivered it, "I didn't peek." I hadn't peeked in the bag but I tried to peek through the crack opened bathroom door. Charlie must have anticipated I might and his behind the door sticking out her hand.

"Charlie," she admonished, "you'll get your view when I'm ready to let you see. Promise you will obey me."

Charlie's voice was in part sultry and in part apprehensive with apprehension dominant. "I'll obey, no looks until I'm told to open my eyes." I started to realize Charlie wanted to really present her feminine side to me and in three years, she hasn't felt feminine. 

With tentative words escaping me, "Charlie," I said still at the bathroom door, "I am anxious to see you."

I was ordered away from the door.

Some time later, Charlie called out again, "Charlie, get what you need from the bedroom and go away again." My excitement built even higher as time passed. I convinced myself that when Charlie finally let's me look, I?d see a beautiful Charlene. I obeyed this order also.

"Where are you Charlie," she called out again. I answered and she answered, "Stay there." I heard the bathroom door open as she dashed for the bedroom. When she was safely behind the bedroom door I received the okay to go to the bathroom to shower.

Fortunately, Charlie took so much time in the bath; I had plenty of hot water for my shower. Middle of the night and I started with a shave. My shower concluded and I began dressing.

Not sure what Charlie wore, I put on simple boxers, a button down shirt and comfortable pleated pants. I wanted Charlie to see me as prepared to see her as she took time preparing herself.

**********

It was my turn to call out from the bathroom. I received the okay to come out and go directly to the living room. I stopped in my tracks as Charlene came into my view and, she was beautiful.

She stood in the center of the room with her hair immaculately set, she wore make up although not over done, and she wore the world's sexiest little black dress. I was stunned beyond expectation. The curves of her body were magnificent, her legs extended from her perfect hips. I could see her smooth was smooth and flat. Her breasts were perfect for her size; I guessed a 34B or maybe a 36A. From where I stood, from what I saw, Charlie was gone and Charlene was present.

Charlene must have known that she completely dumbfounded me with her absolute radiance. I was immovable but surely could have been knocked over by a feather. "Beautiful."

"Come hold me Charlie."

I slowly strode the few paces to where she stood with her arms reaching out. I took her hands in mine as I took the next step into her waiting arms. I held her as I hoped she wanted me to hold her. I felt her head on my shoulder, warm breath on my neck, and little kisses followed.

We swayed side to side in our embrace. No words spoken, none needed. Then in slow deliberate steps, Charlene began moving me toward the bedroom. If I was in bliss now, I expected rapture behind the bedroom door.

Charlene cooed, "Charlie, you know when were making out before my bath," her sentence went in finished. I looked into her eyes and on her attractive face and simply nodded. "You know, you gave me an orgasm."

My job was to continue obeying until told otherwise. Again, I nodded.

"Charlie, make love with me."

Her lips met mine and we exploded into list filled passion. Our bodies ground against the others. Charlie's nipples almost burst through the fabric of her dress telling me she was braless. I had to presume she was panties also.

Charlene worked the buttons of my shirt and gasped as her hands touched my bare skin. I pressed my now very erect cock against her and she rewarded me by grasping it through my pants.




Unknown



With one hand behind her back, my other hand eased up her ribs until I felt breast under my palm. She I fully cupped her breast and felt her stiff nipple, Charlene gasped. I gave her a little pinch right on the tip and she moaned.

Her dress was strapless and had a tiny side zipper that I began to pull down. It wasn't long before the law of gravity took over and the dress fell from her body. If the dictionary had a picture of a perfect woman, Charlene was the poster woman.

Her breasts had little sag, her arms were toned, her waist narrowed enticingly then flared out to form perfect hips. She was carefully shaved with only a little heart shaped tuft of hair covering her mound. Her legs went all the way to the floor in perfect symmetry. I barely felt my pants and boxers leaving my body.

I took the lead now pulling her naked body into mine. Skin to skin, I felt her aura absorb mine. We glided to the bed where we fell into another round of passionate kissing. However, this time our hands freely roamed our bodies.

Charlene whispered in almost silent words, "Take me Charlie."

In time honored tradition, Charlie's legs opened as she presented her pussy to me. I took my position on top and waited for her to guide me into her. All the passion she had built up released almost immediately into a mind-blowing orgasm. She screamed and cried as I slid into her giving her all my manhood.

I wondered if I could hold off my own orgasm to bring her to another. However, Charlene seemed to be in a multiorgasmic cycle crying and screaming. 

"I'm going to cum, Charlie." We hadn't talked about birth control.

"Yes! Charlie, cum," she demanded. "I want you in me! I want..." She couldn't finish as a wave of orgasm swept her and I didn't hold back. My release lasted many seconds and my flow of cum must have been a surprise. We baptized the mattress with our combined juices.

Our bodies were tangled and wrapped in the others arms and legs. We had sublime sex and intense physical releases. Both of us panting trying to recover, we remained joined. The passion of the moment ebbed although our union remained strong.

Charlie held her vaginal grip on my cock while I stared into her eyes. I saw an image in her eyes that was familiar although I could not remember where I'd seen it. Somewhere that image existed and I searched my mind in recollection. I drew a blank.

"You are a beautiful woman Charlie, Charlene. I think you were right weeks ago when you welcomed me to Oblivion. This is my last stop." We bent our heads to kiss and Charlie started to move under me, gliding against my cock. I knew we were on our way to a long love making session. 

"Charlie," Charlene sighed as I took up her slow pace. Then I noticed tears pooling in her eyes. "Can you love me?"

I knew her question meant love as in cherish and love. She didn't mean physical love; she meant emotional love, spiritual love. I knew the answer she wanted and knew we began our relationship based on respect not on sex. It took us almost a month to reach this moment even though we spent everyday together. 

A tear welled in my eyes as I answered, "Yes."

We made love for many minutes, slowly, no rush, and no finish line to cross. We experimented with different sexual positions with Charlie discovering she liked cowgirl and spoon. 

Our passions grew as our love making continued. Charlie returned to her back with me in the saddle atop her. Charlie lifted her legs high and I hooked my arms behind her knees. I was getting very deep penetration now and Charlie moaned much more deeply and loudly. It was time for more aggressive activity.

I withdrew until barely the head of my cock was in her, then I thrust forward hard. Charlie met my thrust. We evaporated into one mind and one body until Charlie gripped my back with her arms and squeezed my cock almost painfully. When she called out my name she followed it with an orgasm that shook the bed frame. I released into her again.

Lying side be side, we were both sated. With simple I love yous, we drifted off to sleep. Tomorrow was a day for more work and deliveries.

**********

Morning dawned with a new scent filling the air, fresh coffee, bacon frying, and eggs in the skillet. I heard Charlie humming a tune as I lifted myself from the mattress. I slipped on my boxers and stealthily walked to the kitchen.

Charlie was busy with breakfast wearing only a light robe, her form revealed as the morning sun illuminated her. "Good morning, Charlie."

Charlene spun around and literally ran to me. "Good morning, Charlie," she repeated my line but punctuated it with a kiss. I wanted to hold her for the rest of the day.

Breakfast was a bit of a rush as delivers were scheduled any time. After eating, I showered and started my tasks. Rumbling down the road came the telltale signs of deliveries. First was my new 1500-gallon LP tank and fill truck. Three times more gas would keep us for most of the year. The crew installed the tank and updated the gas line into the house, added a new regulator, and flushed all the old gas from the lines inside the house. They did a pressure check and found no leaks.

The next crew to arrive, even as the gas people worked away, was a plumbing crew to update the well pump and install water filters and water softeners.

I sent Charlie to her old shack with instructions to move out of it. "This is our home, Charlie, not my house."

The next several week?s involved county inspectors coming to assess the house for soundness and the same for other buildings still standing. The dry climate hadn't caused much more superficial problems.

The vision I saw in Charlie's eyes that first night of our love making haunted me; I continued to search my minds eye for the memory of that image. It was a pleasurable haunt of life fulfilled.

The heavy-duty generator arrived with a crew of electricians pulling old wiring and running new lines. The generator had an output enough to give the house full modern electrical power with room to expand. Oblivion was becoming a livable town again.

Our desire for the other did not wane. We often spent long afternoons making love until the sun set and spent the nights in lust filled sex.

The image I saw in Charlie's eyes still haunted me. Where had I seen it, what did it mean, and why did I see it in Charlie's eyes.

On this night our lovemaking was particularly aggressive. We equally aggressed on the other. I could not get enough of her taste. Her body excited me to touch. Charlie was all over me, kissing and touching. Our mouths kissed each centimeter of skin, no area was left unexplored.

Charlie begged me to lick her pussy and rewarded me with a mouthful of her nectar. She took me in her mouth and drank my offering. When the sex began, we were in a demanding mood. We both got what we wanted.

Charlie was on her knees presenting herself to me in doggy position. I thrust hard and deep with initial penetration. Charlie demanded a pounding and I gave it to her. She reached a crescendo climax and squirted her cum in a long stream. 

Still I wanted more and so did she. My cock was as hard as ever and Charlie was wet. We moved to cowgirl and Charlie took her position and literally dropped onto my cock with force. Her up and down was a flurry with each down push taking me into her as far as she could. Relentlessly she pounded herself onto me. As her next orgasm hit, she settled down hard on me a rocked my cock in her depths.

Taking up missionary position, Charlie opened for me. Smiling broadly and having a very happy twinkle in her eyes, she took me into her again. However, this moment was mine and I took my time for slow lovemaking. Charlie seemed ready for less aggression now, too.

As we slowly brought the other to a final climax, I saw the image in Charlie's eyes again, more clearly this time. As our hips met and our bodies ache for the want of the other, the image solidified. I knew where I'd seen the image before, months ago in the small room where shenim guided me into my long trance and meditation state.

Now my lovemaking slowed to a very tender and easy pace. All I wanted to do was watch the image develop in my mind's eye. Charlie sensed my changing mood.

"Charlie, what's wrong," Charlie begged to know. I continued my very slow stroking.

"Charlie," I said, "there is an image in your eyes I've seen before. It is an image that I saw months ago before I arrived here. It is such a pleasant image and it is becoming clearer each time we make love."

We were barely moving now, and Charlie asked me to explain what I saw.

As we slowly made love, we paused time to time for me tell her a little more, then more, and more. We were not making love for the orgasm now, we were loving, giving our bodies freely, and realizing that we could not love another.

We reached a final and satisfying orgasm just as the image became clear as crystal. I knew what I had to do at the moment I saw the complete vision.

"Charlie," I whispered, "you are pregnant."

Charlie smiled at me but denied being pregnant. 

"Tonight, dear Charlie, tonight you are pregnant." She confirmed it about 15 days later.

"Charlie, I'm pregnant. How did you know it?"

I took her hand in mine telling her the final part of the image. I concluded, "The image I saw was of a road sign reading, 'You have reached Oblivion. Population 3'."



Unknown and Unknowable



"Time!"

I collapse, panting as my body burns and heart pumps. Glorious euphoria dances with the pain, and I am victorious. What kept me so long? I can't seem to remember why I stopped using this moving mediation, this opportunity to flush my body with endorphins and forget my pain. I fucking love CrossFit.

My sweat angel has me glued to the floor, as my heart rate begins to slow I can move my fingers and toes. Curling to my side, I see the box is mostly empty now, just the coach and the barbell club getting ready to work. In a decision to work it hard, I opted to not scale and took almost double the average WOD time, and am the last woman left in the gym. I have to get out of the way.

Peeling myself off the matted floor, I make my way to the bathroom. Camelbak in my mouth, I multitask washing the chalk from my hands. Sitting to pee, I ponder the heaviness in my flesh - how did I get so turned on? I feel puffy and swollen as I clean up, I remove my panties because they are too wet to put back on and collect my things to go roll out.

In the box, my eyes are drawn to the rippling muscles and lean bodies preparing for their workout. They move so gracefully for their size - squatting and seamlessly stringing double- and triple-unders. Show-offs. I imagine how a hard and lean body would feel against my padded softness. Gah. I pull my shoes off and roll my feet on a lacrosse ball as I sit and dream.

As I roll, the bite into my meat adds a darker quality to my thoughts - who would be rough, handle me like a doll, moving my body with all that strength as he pleased? Who would touch me with electricity coming from his fingers? Who would be gentle and sweet while relentlessly seducing my body open?

I have got to get a booty-call going. This is ridiculous. Drooling in my box, no less. I think back to how hard it has been to be met, kept up with, satisfied in the past. Perhaps it is better to be celibate, once or twice is never enough anyway, it's just opening a can of worms.

I begin to drill wall squats - therapy I can always use. I lose myself in the repetition. My mind is still on sex, the throbbing fullness of my cunt. Who could I fuck and when? 

A hand brushes my spine and I jerk, my whole body zinged with the contact. I glance over my shoulder to find the coach with heavy lidded eyes. His hand presses more firmly over my low back and I feel the heat of it like a brand.

"Hold this curve."

I begin again. Hips back first, slowly, gracefully, keeping my lumbar tight. He cups me as I pause at the bottom and ascend again. I nod. "I can feel it."

"Good. This time, I want you to feel it from your pelvis, use your hips instead of struggling with your back. Here." He moves behind me, one hand on each hip bone. "Tilt." As the word and his fingers glide over me, my ass turns out and open. The anterior tilt makes my swollen pussy lips slide against my thighs. I am so thankful to be covered in sweat to hide the wet spot I feel blooming there, the earthy musk scent that my heightened senses immediately notice. I can feel the magnetic force of his body behind me, if there were no clothes between us he could slide right into me in this position.

"Now. Hold that as you go down. I want you to work with this until your hamstrings aren't pulling your pelvis forward and then we'll get your back flat. Good? Let's see it."

He steps back and I squat. Down, down, down, my thoughts are dirty. I hit the point of the pull and stop. He crouches next to me. His hand skims my back again, and then slip over my ass. "Feel this? You stopped right before it turned into butt wink. Good. Hold this for a few as it relaxes." His hand is still on my ass cheek, and my face must be completely red. I want it on my pussy. My hands above my head on the wall, I turn my face away and take a deep breath. I feel like I am pinned for his pleasure.

My body relaxes and sinks a little deeper. "Yes. Beautiful." Balm for my soul. I feel my heart begin to bloom and my chest opens a little more.

His hand leaves and I am bereft. I open my eyes and look for him. He is still there, looming over me. I stand, slow and controlled. His eyes are moving over the other men, checking in with each of them. Duh. Coaching. For a moment I thought we were alone, that this was a step towards seduction.

I try again, this time with my toes against the wall. It is smooth, and I can feel the difference. At the bottom I move, feeling into the pockets of resistance. My back begins to ache and I fold, letting my legs straighten and my torso relax. Touching my toes, I wiggle out the remaining tension in my low back, then grab my elbows to gently swing. It is then I open my eyes and am hit with a blast of heat.

I am being stared at. I realize then that the fabric is indeed wet, and now there are no panties to layer beneath the transparently stretched material of my workout pants. They can see my pussy lips. I am frozen. My heart skips a beat and I am unable to do anything.

In the moments it takes me to recover, there is a flurry of action. The coach places his hand on the small of my back, for all purposes pinning me in place, and several of the men come to stand around us. "Can you go back over the mechanics, I want to see." One of the men with a gravely voice and a tall, sun-kissed body is the first to speak. The coach releases me with his hand and I come back to standing. I am shaking a little as I press my hands against the wall above my head, feeling my body respond like a cat stretching. I close my eyes and move. The coaches hands skim my body as he talks.

"Shoulders down and back. Chest is up, big. Yes. Back keeps the lumbar curve - we're working the butt wink here. Yes. She can go really low, but she needs to stop where it begins to lose tension. Knees are out, perfect. The stand is fluid, faster but controlled. Yes. Once more."

His hand presses between my shoulder blades and my chest rises, my breasts aching, nipples hardened.

"It's hard to see." Another man complains, this one broad and big, heavily muscled. The coach gestures and the circle widens to include all the men. There are 5 of them now and I am trapped in the center by my own response. The coach tugs at my tank and bares my back. "See her spine? I am trying to keep all of the vertebra in the same place even at the very bottom. Watch." This time as I move I feel his spread fingers keeping track of the distance between bumps, and my skin is on fire. "See here how right where she stops it starts to want to release? You can feel it." I stand and feel the air against my belly with the bunched up shirt over my breasts.

"Can she sustain ab engagement when she's arched like that?" Another voice, this one mid-western and earnest, blonde and homecoming king quality. The hand slips around my midsection and I jump a little. It kneads me lightly and a quiet moan escapes me. "Again." I brace my abs and squat and the hand follows me down. As I begin to stand it slips lower, and grazes the top of my pubic bone and I gasp. "She doesn't seem to have an issue, but I do know what you mean. It can be a bit of a struggle to keep both, they are in opposition. I want the stretch in the therapy, but for work with weight I would prefer her to tuck the pelvis for the midline stability."

I am having a hard time breathing. Fuck. That hand is just above where I need to be touched. My hips move a little and I press my face into the wall. The hand refuses to move.

I am an animal now, I no longer care to pretend I'm not responding. I whimper. There are some chuckles and the hand pats me before it slips away. I inhale at the loss, and then hands are pulling the tank over my head and off and I am topless, pinned against the wall, his hand snaking under the front of my pants and into the soaked valley between my legs. His over arm bands between my breasts and my head rolls back against his chest. He steps back into the circle and his hard-on presses into my ass. The questing fingers find my hole and I moan shamelessly. "She's so fucking wet." I nod and moan my assent. There is laughter and some bantering that I miss while another pair of hands strips off my leggings. My sweaty body is handled with precision as I am undressed, and my legs are spread for all to see. He kneels with me in his arms till he is seated and I am in his lap with my legs spread and no starch left in my limbs.

Quickly the game is no longer teasing, and the men are touching me and their cocks. My pussy lips are spread and fingers slide through the juices, my face is turned and the coach is kissing me deeply, our mouths mating and playing with delicious sensation. Fingers penetrate me and my body arches up, my breasts pressing into hands and my heels finding traction on the bodies of the men around me. I can't tell who is touching me where. All I can tell is that I am going to get what I need. 

Hands grab my thighs and force them up, wide, and then I feel a cock rubbing against my slit. The velvety head is fat and my clit swells against it. I moan into the mouth against mine, and the man with the cock against me grabs my hips, driving up into me in one sure thrust. Finally, finally, my body cries out and it slips out my mouth in a broken howl. I needed this so badly. The thick intrusion tugs the flesh inside, stretching me so deliciously. I feel my body contract and the pleasure builds as I am handled and caressed under restless hands and a relentless cock. I begin to crest and as my body bows I hear his grunts and feel him lose cadence as he spends himself inside me with a few hard shoves, pulling my whole pelvis into him. I am on the edge of orgasm, but I can't go over as he stills and jerks inside me. I moan my dissatisfaction and open my eyes. The mid-western golden boy. Didn't have him pegged as so greedy.

As his cock slips out I feel his cum dribble between my legs, and a hand gathers it, massaging it into the mound of my cunt, covering my whole vulva, asshole to clit. I'm so close, it feels amazing, like being bathed in sunlight, pleasure all over my skin. My eyes fall on the painter before me, the man with the smokey voice and sun tanned body. His eyes penetrate me as he bends to kiss my cum-drenched clit. I almost go over, but he presses his whole hand over me, firmly, unmoving, and I am tempered. Barely contained. Bursting, but with power that is tamed, for the moment.

He keeps our connection as he moves over me like a predator, and I am so moved, I can feel the pull in my solar plexus. It is like I am on fire inside. When he grazes my belly with his, the breath leaves my lungs harshly, and when he settles against me I melt. This. Yes. More. The head of his cock nuzzles my inner lips and I tip so that he can smoothly glide inside. Oh. His eyes don't break contact with mine as he slowly moves deeper and deeper. I am naked, vulnerable, needy, and everything I am thinking is on my face. His eyes darken and he begins to move, a light smile playing on his face. He approves of my animal and her need, her sexuality. My chest expands and I am alight with sensation. He fucks the cum up into me and I feel the other eyes on us, hear the hands stroking and the breathing quickening. I feel the heat of the bodies around us, am eaten up by eyes.

"Breathe," he commands in a whisper, and I remember to pull air into my lungs, forcing my sensations higher and higher. And then I'm there. Oh god. There are fireworks behind my eyes as my vision blurs and I shudder, my whole body racked as I come. I hear him groan and we are there together in a land that has no ties to this one, that is only connection and expansion and pleasure.

When my release leaves me wrung out, he kisses my jaw and I melt when he pulls away. Replete, I don't know what more I can take, but I know this isn't over.



Unknown Benefits of Life Modeling



It's hard to say whether me staying a virgin through the whole of school and until I was 20 was my choice, or just bad luck with girls. Either way, it opened me up to one hell of an experience later on that I wouldn't trade anything for!

Through school, I had my friends, they had their girlfriends and boyfriends, and there was of course porn around. I never really got into porn myself. I wasn't overly social either. Quite often I just preferred my own company. As an only child, no mother around, and a dad who's happily single, sex and stuff was never really on my radar for the first 20 years. At times I wondered if I was gay or straight. So did others. But I soldiered on through, and as you'll find out soon, things ended up happening as they should. Eventually!

I became curious about the female form after seeing artwork on some TV show when I was flicking through channels. A portrait of a nude female. Then they showed a group of people painting in a room, and her standing at the front of the class, stripped off, while they carefully observed her body. It was like something awoke within me and I decided to try and find out if this was something I too could try! 

Ok. I'm no artist. I can draw an awesome stick figure if I try though, but as you might have figured out by now, this wasn't about the artwork...

I live just down the street from our local community centre, and I was surprised to learn that art classes like this actually happen so close to home! 

The next class I could join in was a week away. Believe me, that week couldn't come quick enough! Sleeping at night that week became a mixture of pondering, excitement, fantasies, masturbation... There was definitely masturbation! Again, it's not something I'd done much of through my school years, unlike most people my age. Sure, I'd tried it, but it didn't do much for me. Suddenly now, I was a horny, inquisitive teenager at 20!

What would I see? Sure, I'd seen plenty of diagrams in Sex Ed class at school, but seeing it in real life would be an experience. Would a naked female look the same as in drawings? It feels strange to say, but at the age of 20, I was aware of what a clitoris was, a vulva too, and the vagina. I knew there was lots of stuff going on down there that I was finally bursting to see... but until then, I never had before in the flesh!

I turned up to the class, nervous, and about 20 minutes early. My heart was in my mouth! I was also trying to make sure I'd be prepared and ready if someone was to ask me an art question, as I really knew nothing about it! Maybe I could blend in with the class. Maybe no one would know I can't draw and have no interest in it. Maybe no one will notice.

Maybe not.

I was about to be busted!

Seeing no one else around, I made my way inside and followed the arrow I saw towards "Life drawing class". Around the corner was an almost empty room with just one person inside, setting up tables, chairs and easels. 

"Oh hello. You must be new. I'm Sandy."

I was in my own world. Zoned out with my thoughts. A hand was reached out towards me. 

"Oh...ahh.. Tom. Nice to meet you" I responded awkwardly. 

Sandy had a curvy figure, was tallish, but just a bit shorter than me. She looked about late 30s, with wavy light brown hair that reached down just past her shoulders. Wearing a kind of sports tracksuit, I could tell she must take care of herself.

"Many coming today?" I asked, awkwardly trying to make conversation and scanning the empty room.

"We usually get about 15", Sandy replied. "You are very early. I like to get here this early as it gives me a chance to get changed and comfortable for the class."

"Are you the... errr... teacher?" I asked, suddenly feeling very exposed about how little I knew when it came to art.

"Sometimes I take on a teaching and instructor kind of role, but I'm doing the modeling tonight."

Suddenly there were butterflies in my belly like never before. If I stayed for this class, Sandy would become the first woman I'd ever see naked! Unknowingly to her of course! I started to feel like a pervert. 

All good, I reassured myself. I'm an artist and that's why I'm here! God, it didn't even sound convincing when I tried to talk myself into it!

"Who are your influences?" Sandy asked.

"Oh... you know. Van Gough, Picasso..." I was just thinking of artists I knew the name of! 

Pathetic really!

"Well" Sandy said with a smile "I look forward to seeing some of your work later on." She then excused herself, saying she was going to change into her robe and prepare for the class.

I took a seat right up the front. The next 15 minutes seemed like an eternity, as the room began to fill; various ages, an even balance of guys and girls, all looking quite serious and not really making much conversation.

A much older lady entered the room, introduced herself as Barb to those who didn't know, and then briefly spoke about Sandy and her experience, just as Sandy reentered the room dressed in a white robe.

"We're examining and drawing the female form tonight" Barb continued "You'll notice, Sandy has lots of nice curves, and the lighting in the room will cast some lovely shades and contrast her skin tone..." 

Artist talk. I was lost. 

"...And as you'll see, as Sandy drops her robe for us, further curves across her chest. Remember, pay particular attention to the roundness and full form." 

Alright, I'm back in the room again. That got my attention in more ways than one!

Barb continued "Lower down, a rare sight these days, a lovely thick mound of pubic hair, that will again provide you opportunity for some interesting textures on paper."

I shuffled in my seat, feeling a growing sensation in my pants as an erection started forming. Quickly glancing around the room, heads were already bobbing up and down as drawing commenced. I seemed to be the only one that hadn't started yet! 

Damn, Sandy had a nice body! The nipples on her medium sized round boobs were pointing straight towards my direction as she stood up straight, relaxed, and unfazed by the fact that she was completely naked with close to 20 clothed people focused on her body. 

My cock was throbbing uncontrollably! My mind was racing. There would be jerking tonight; that's if I don't cum already during this art class!

Shit! I had lost track of the time. That must have been another 2-3 minutes of fantasizing and I still had no marks on my paper! I started to scribble on the page a bit before Barb instructed Sandy to reposition herself. 

Sandy was now standing so that we could see and draw her backside. Either I was getting in to this whole art thing, or I was just getting into the whole naked woman thing! Her right hand on her hip, Sandy was standing at just the right angle so that her nipple was still pointing out, and further down, her bush was also slightly sticking out on show.

I think I did quite well, drawing the crack of her bum. It looked flawless, perfectly shaped, and easy to draw. Or so I thought anyway.

In what seemed like way too soon, the class came to an end. The room quickly emptied out and I realised I was last to leave. 

I decided to stay seated while my erection went down and I checked Facebook on my phone. 

"Let me guess. Tonight was your first time?" Sandy's voice suddenly startled me. Fully dressed again, Sandy was standing in front of me and it looked like she was trying her hardest not to smirk as she looked over my 'drawings'. 

"Yeah. Could say that..." I replied.

"Drawing a naked person isn't as easy as it looks!" I admitted.

"It's just practice!" Sandy replied. 

"Trust me. You'll get there!"

Little did she know, that phrase applied to numerous aspects of my life!

"Are there any more life drawing classes like this one coming up here?" I asked.

"Barb and I are moving on to drawing flowers after tonight I'm afraid" Sandy said.

"I am available privately though if it's something that interests you" she continued.

Of course it does, I thought to myself. But there's no way I could justify that without starting to be really creepy.

"Thanks. It sounds good!" I replied, totally surprising myself!

Sandy ran through her booking fee and other relevant info, then I was on my way home. I'd made a booking for the next night at Sandy's own home studio when she said she'd also be able to give me some tips and tricks to perfect 'my craft'.

For the next 24 hours I had a nervous buzz about me. I actually dreamt about Sandy that night, and needless to say I woke up and had to change the sheets...

Right on 7pm I arrived at Sandy's house, wondering what I'd be greeted with. Did she have a husband? Kids? How was this going to work?

"Tom! Come on through" Sandy greeted me at the door. 

"My kids are with their father tonight so I can concentrate on our session. He lives across town and it's handy for my work with clients."

The walls of the house were covered with many full length framed paintings. It was quite a nice home!

Sandy showed me through to a room at the end of house and instructed me to sit down behind an artist's easel while she again stripped off. 

"Remember to focus on those curves leading down my stomach towards my thatch of pubic hair here" she advised. 

"Take it all in and shade it so you get a nice even pattern. A darkish brown pencil would work in well to match the tones..."

I was again doing an appalling job, spending more time staring than I was drawing, and Sandy's facial expression changed to one of concern. Her next words stunned me though.

"Tom, you can say no to this of course, but maybe the drawing side of it isn't for you. Have you considered being a life model yourself?"

"Ummm... nah ummm..." My sentence structure was suddenly as brilliant as my drawing skills.

"I'm always looking for new male models to draw at home. What about if I draw you tonight?" Sandy suggested. "I'll waive your fee and we'll call it even."

I was reluctant because my member in my pants had already started hardening up. I must have looked interested though because Sandy told me to stand up.

There was no mistaking the pointing bulge in my jeans and Sandy had now noticed it. Still, she chose not to comment. Very professional.

Before I knew it, I too was naked right in front of the naked Sandy. She'd walked past me by now, swapping places so she could be standing at the easel to draw me. Those boobs. That brown bush. That perfectly shaped ass as she passed me. My erection was raging and I didn't know what to say.

Sandy chose to draw standing up. Now I felt I had an excuse to stare! It didn't help my... hard embarrassing problem though!

"That's it. Just stand there and ermm... point your...self in my direction."

This stiffy was not going to go away! That's when I awkwardly tried to make conversation and take the attention off it. Why did I say what I said? I don't know... It was cringeworthy!

The silence in the room was killing me!

"Just looking at your bushy muff there... Sandy" I started. "It's nice."

"Oh, you like it? Thanks Tom." she replied. "Must say, I'm surprised though. I didn't think boys your age were in to pubic hair. I just keep it long and thick like this for the artistic effect in drawings."

Then my conversational skills worsened even further...

"Yeah, so dense it's hard to believe you've got pussy lips and a vagina hiding in there!" I said, surprised at my own stupidity. 

"I've seen diagrams and stuff when I was at sch..." I stopped in my tracks. I'd said too much.

"Are you a virgin, Tom?" Sandy asked, sounding almost shocked.

"Umm n... yeah. I am." I answered ashamedly. 

"That's ok. There's stuff that you probably need to see and experience then" she said, very seriously.

"You probably wouldn't have seen what a vagina looks like and you might as well see mine, since I'm already undressed.. only if you're okay with that of course?" Sandy asked.

"Please!" I managed to say, my voice and throat a shaking bundle of nerves. 

"Ok. Well yeah, you just see hair from this view, standing front ways" she started, almost sounding like a teacher. "But lots of girls you'll meet your age are probably shaven." 

Damn, Sandy gave good Sex Ed!

Sandy now sat down on the couch behind her, opening her legs wide, showing me her parting lips beneath the hair. 

"You'll see a slit like this on all of us girlies though, the ones your age won't have the hair probably" she continued.

"Now, in here is the stuff you would have seen in your school diagrams." Sandy had taken both hands and pulled open her hair-covered pussy lips, exposing a glistening pink wet hole inside.

Without realising it, I'd instinctively started walking towards Sandy, with my hard cock in hand. 

"Can... can I put this in there?" I asked.

Seriously, with smooth lines like that, was there any wonder I was still a virgin at 20!?! 

"Nah uh. You need to appreciate it in it's true beauty before I'll let you anywhere near it. Baby steps, Tom! You can try to draw it now if you want... or just relieve some of that pressure... looks like you need it" she said dryly, looking at my erection.

She was right. Pre cum was now dribbling down onto the floor. I'd started to pull my foreskin up and down over my very purple and hard tip. 

"Come closer. You can look. Have a good look, but no touching!" Sandy said.

With that, I moved right in close, staring her brown curls of pubic hair, feverishly pulling at my penis, faster and faster. Her hands stayed still, pulling her love hole wide open for me, giving me full access to study the pink folds of her increasingly wet vagina... my balls were tightening, my body started tingling and with that I yelped as cum spurted out in pearly white ropes, onto the floor below.

"That should slow you down for a bit", Sandy said, sounding relieved for me.

I couldn't speak... 

"Don't worry about your mess on the floor" she said. 

"Just help me out here" Sandy tapped her pussy, motioning for me to come closer. 

"Girls will love you if you can master this. Put your mouth to it, stick your tongue in" she instructed. 

It was a taste like I'd never experienced before. Warm and almost salty, I remember thinking. 

"Circle my clit with your tongue. That's up here." Sandy said.

"Mmmm ohhhh... you got it!" Sandy panted. "Keep going!"

I did as I was told, and soon felt my own member hardening up again.

"Want to lose your V plates?" Sandy asked, struggling to stay composed while I flicked at her clit with my tongue.

No more awkward conversations from me this time. Silently I raised myself up onto my knees and moved forward, letting my penis lead the way. Sandy took hold of it, guiding it in to her thirty-something year old pink wet pussy.

"Give it to me Tom! Don't hold back" Sandy screamed as I thrusted myself in and out, kneeling in front of her.

It felt better than I could have imagined! How did I wait this long without sex?!?!

"Mmmmm... You're good!" Sandy panted after a few minutes.

"I want you to try doggy. You'll love it."

I'd heard of doggy style from my friends and knew what to do.

I moved away from Sandy, watching my very hard and soaked cock twitching, waiting for more. 

Sandy stood up to turn around.

There was that perfectly curved ass of Sandy's again! Backing up towards me! 

Even Sandy's butthole looked cute. A perfect little star shape, covered with just one or two rogue strands of hair.

Still pointing straight up, purple and hard as ever, I guided my cock head back in to Sandy's hairy pussy, picking up the pace where we'd left off. 

Making sure my hands were put to good use, I reached them around in front of Sandy, grabbing hold of both boobs as I ploughed, over and over into her love tunnel.

Sandy was bucking. Shaking. Her heavy breathing was now turning into verbal noises.

"This is how it feels when you do it right Tom. I'm, I'm... cumming!! Aaaaagghh!" 

Sandy's vagina was tightening around my member. Spasming repeatedly, which was all I needed for that familiar feeling in my own body to return. "Uggghhh!" I grunted sharply as my own orgasm tore through me, pulsing into Sandy over and over. 

I stayed inside for a while, loving the fact that my virginity was now gone.

Finally, Sandy spoke. "Now, wanna stand up? I'll draw you now. I've got a real feel for the image I'm trying to achieve."

"Do your thing, Sandy." I said, as I got back on my feet. 

Ok, so wasn't quite the artistic experience I thought I'd get. 

But I have an arrangement with Sandy now. 

She 'draws me' all the time. ;)



Unknown Caller



Trish was awakened in the middle of the night by a text message on her cell phone. Reaching over to the nightstand, her mind in a sleepy fog, she pressed the message button.

Unknown caller...

The thought of your juicy pussy fills my nose with an aroma that drives me wild. I can taste your sensuous flavor and it makes me want more. The thought of you touching me makes me shiver in anticipation. I want to see your naked body and mine mesh in a sexual frenzy. I need to see your breast bounce to the rhythm of our mutual fulfillment. I desire you in every way. You are my fantasy come true! 

Rubbing her eyes, trying to focus, she read the message again. She could not believe what she was reading. Trish was shocked by the message, but she felt a tingle between her legs just reading the words. Knowing it was a mistake, a wrong number, and disappointed by that thought, Trish set the phone on the nightstand and rolled back over to go back to sleep.

Trish's mind filled with an array of thoughts. Who was this person? What did the sender look like? Was the "unknown caller" as sexy in person as they portrayed in the message? Trish imagined the sender to be a man; he had dark, thick hair and deep brown eyes, a man with strong arms and broad shoulders. He was a professional-looking guy with a mischievous smile and a moustache. She just knew he was sexy and passionate. He had to be to send a message like that. A damn good lover, she thought... well a damn good fantasy lover at least.

Trish's face became flushed as a response to her thoughts. Flipping the pillow over, so the cool cotton was now against her face, Trish tried to think of something else. It had been over two years since she had felt the touch of a man's hands on her body. She had pretty much ignored her sexual desires after her husband walked out, leaving her for his partner at work. Now in her early thirties, Trish had concentrated on her work and thought little of her own personal pleasure. Until now!

Trish now realized how much she desired to be touched, how she needed to be touched. Her body was tingling, her pussy becoming moist, just from reading a message. Crazy, she thought, unable get comfortable. Tossing and turning, her nipples rubbing against the lace trim of her soft satin camisole only made Trish all the more aware of those thoughts and desires.

"Damn, Unknown Caller," she hissed.

Without thinking, Trish started rubbing her breast. She was lost in the moment. Her fingertips lightly moving across her nipples through the thin fabric sent chills through her body. As she massaged and played with her breast, her mind replayed the text message. She imagined his voice; it was a deep powerful voice. 

"The thought of you touching me makes me shiver in anticipation." In her mind it echoed over and over.

Trish moved the straps from her camisole from her shoulders and freed her breasts to the cool night air. Lying on her back, staring at the ceiling, her hands were now upon her bare flesh .Her soft, warm hands felt so nice on her cool breast. Trish massaged her full C-cup sized breast in her small hands. She delighted in the pleasure her skin was experiencing. She thought back to an ex lover and how he would pinch and roll her nipples to near torture. She tried to mimic his actions with her fingers, but her gentle fingers could not produce the same sensation as his rough calloused hands. Her mind was playing cruel tricks. Her nipples were now hard, and the longing ache was intensifying. 

A chill ran up Trish's back as she slowly inched her fingertips between her breasts, down to the top of her belly stopping at the waistband of her sheer panties. 

"What am I doing?" Trish whispered into the darkness.

Trish could not stop herself; it was as if she had no control of her actions. Her hand slid inside the top of her panties, the soft mound of hair tickled her fingers as she moved her hand slowly through it. She closed her eyes and continued to proceed further. Her finger grazed across her clit, she let out a soft moan. Trish's finger slid down into the slit between her folds and was covered in wet secretions. She rubbed the juices all over her smooth skin and up into the mound of hair covering her clit. She was behaving like a teenaged girl first discovering her sexuality. She felt naughty, and loved it!

Her unknown caller's voice was once again in her head, "The thought of your juicy pussy fills my nose with an aroma that drives me wild."

Trish could now smell the aroma from her own wetness. Funny, she had never really paid attention to how she smelled during arousal before. Her natural juices mixed with her body lotion combined into a unique blend. The smell of coconut and vanilla blended well with her secretions. It was exotic, she thought, sexy... maybe even erotic. 

"Erotic?" Trish laughed, never using that word to describe herself before. 

Trish moved her hand back and forth enjoying the feel of her own body and the aroma of her own sexuality. Her fingers teased at her clit and her increasing wetness, between her folds of skin. She had ignored her feelings of self gratification far too long. Taking long, slow strokes Trish ran her middle finger back and forth through her slit. Her juices now made her pussy very slick. Her middle finger eased up inside her body. Trish stopped for a moment to savor the feeling of having something inside her again. Her warm flesh enveloped her finger tightly.

Needing more, Trish quickly removed her clothing and walked to the bathroom and flipped on the light. Sitting on the edge of the vanity chair in front of her mirror, she took a moment to look at herself. Trish was not sure what made her sit in front of the mirror, but she was turned on even more by the idea of watching herself. Her long black hair hanging just above her breast, her erect nipples, and her eyes filled with desire. She was now seeing her body in a new passionate way. She did feel erotic!

Trish glanced over and saw the baby oil that she used to remove her eye makeup sitting next to her hairbrush. She reached for the bottle and poured a few drops onto her fingers. Trish spread her knees apart exposing her glistening slit in full view in the mirror. She spread the oil all over between her legs. The slickness of the oil felt so good on her skin. Her fingers slid easily back and forth. She imagined her "unknown caller" standing behind her, watching her in the mirror. Trish felt her face flush, but it was quickly replaced by overwhelming arousal. Dripping a few more drops onto her fingers, she then raised her hips and eased herself down onto her fingers. She was now sitting on her hand with two fingers up inside her. Grinding her hips back and forth on her hand, she imagined the caller's voice again...

"I want to see your naked body and mine mesh in a sexual frenzy. I need to see your breast bounce to the rhythm of our mutual fulfillment."

Trish looked into the mirror, her breast were bouncing to the rhythm of her body grinding atop her hand. With her free hand she massaged each breast and pinched her erect nipples. She let out a soft moan, delighting in the sensation of touching herself. Trish slid her other hand down to massage her clit. She must have spent ten minutes trying different amounts of pressure and speed. Feeling so damn good, she did not want it to end. 

Minutes later, her body started to shudder; her climax starting to build. She leaned back and rubbed her clit hard. Trish reached over and grabbed her hairbrush. The hard, smooth plastic end glided easily into her slick canal. The length of the handle could penetrate further than her fingers. The cool plastic felt divine against her heated walls, as she eased it in and out of her pussy. Her pace quickened, her hand now ramming the brush as hard and as deep as she could. Trish's climax did not take long to reach; her body was ready to explode. 

"Oh yes...oh yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!" she cried out.

Trish's body bucked as her climax was released. Her juices soaked her hand gripping the brush. She reduced her speed and then slowly removed the hairbrush, tossing it into the sink. Then she rubbed her juices over her heated pussy. Trish felt exhausted, her heart was pounding, and her clit was throbbing. She reached up and wiped the juices across her breast. The smell of sweet satisfaction filled her nostrils. She took one last look in the mirror and smiled, looking very satisfied. 

After she cleaned herself up, she walked back to the bedroom. Trish took one look at her clothes on the floor and decided to leave them there. As she climbed into bed, her body felt hot and the cool cotton sheets were very soothing. She did not usually sleep naked, but tonight was not a usual night. Tonight was indeed special.

Trish made herself comfortable, sliding a pillow next to her body to snuggle with. As Trish drifted off to sleep, she hoped her "unknown caller" would accidently send her more messages. That was just the wake up call she needed to arouse her passion as well as her satisfaction.

"Thank you!" she whispered.