0 comments/ 64310 views/ 1 favorites Sanctuary By: Rog It had been a perfect day up until five minutes ago; we had a great table on the pavement outside a small Spanish bar and we were just sitting, enjoying a cold beer and watching the world pass by on the beach in front of us. Perfect that was until the parasites found us. The parasites, or to give them their real names- Dave and Sandra Adams, were a couple who had attached themselves to us in the hotel bar on the very first night of our holiday and refused to let go. It was our own fault for being so friendly towards them but that's just in our nature and besides, we were caught off guard as we were both tired from the long journey and they had seemed quite amiable on first impressions. After that they just seemed to be everywhere we went. It wasn't like they seemed to be making a conscious effort to follow us; they just seemed to appear by supernatural means wherever we were and then stick to us like glue, sucking the enjoyment out of everything we tried to do and feeding off our good nature. It had come as a blessed relief then, when two blissful days ago, Dave had contracted a dose of food poisoning and had been unable to move more than a couple of feet from his bathroom. Even that came with a price though, after installing himself and his wife on our table and ordering beers (just for themselves) from the waitress (he didn't really say 'shaken, not stirred' did he?), he was now recounting his illness in graphic detail to us (and most of the other patrons of the bar, the man had no volume control). I switched to autopilot and nodded and smiled in the right places as he told us for the third time how he had been afraid to cough and repeated something about him being able to crap through the eye of a needle. Sandra just sat sipping her Babycham and lemonade, moronically repeating the last word of all his sentences. After finally stopping to draw breath, Dave sat back in his chair and placed his hands behind his head, his personality substitute 'comedy' T-shirt riding up to reveal his hairy beer gut in all it glory. Sensing he was about to ask the inevitable 'so, what are you pair up to for the rest of the day' question, I desperately searched for an answer that would enable us to get rid of them. I was coming up blank and beginning to panic as he asked, but Jane was already well ahead of me. 'We're going to the nude beach Dave, wanna come?' This was news to me too but I had no choice but to go along, besides, it was worth it to see Dave almost falling backwards off his chair, beer leaking from his nose as he choked. Jane just sat smiling at the two of them, patiently waiting for an answer while Dave composed himself. Sandra had taken a sudden and deep interest in the pattern on the paper napkin under her drink. This was a stroke of genius on Jane's part, Dave and Sandra were two of the biggest prudes we had ever met, I wouldn't have been at all surprised if they had never even seen each other naked, the thought of going to a nude beach would be totally out of the question for them. We had already gone to the regular beach with them earlier in the week for a very uncomfortable couple of hours, they had both sat there fully dressed for the whole duration and they almost died of embarrassment when Jane removed her bikini top. Dave looked visibly flustered and turned to his wife for inspiration but she seemed engrossed in watching a stray cat under the next table. 'Nah, I think we'll give that one a miss mate, I don't want to get my wedding tackle sunburnt' Replied Dave with an idiotic laugh as we stood from the table. 'OK' I said, 'you know where the beach is if you change your minds' With that we walked gathered our beach gear and walked away. As soon as we were out of sight and earshot we both burst into fits of laughter and after composing myself I turned to Jane and asked 'Where are we really going?' 'The nude beach' 'Your kidding right?' 'I was at first but I quite like the idea now. Besides, if we don't go the Adams family back there will only find us again' I paused for a while and considered the options and said 'OK then, I'm up for it' We walked down onto the main beach and made our way towards the far end where a large rocky outcrop formed a natural divide between the textile and nude areas. We scrambled to the top of the rocks and surveyed the scene in front of us. 'It looks a bit quieter down the far end' I remarked and we began to ascend down to the beach below. We made our way along the beach, it was quite busy and it seemed that most of the people in the immediate area were not fully nude but as we went deeper into the nude section the costumes became fewer and further between until everyone was completely naked. I suddenly began to feel very overdressed. 'This seems like a nice spot' exclaimed Jane as she set he bags down on the soft sand. I spread the beach blanket out and rummaged through our bags in search of sun lotion and water. Jane stripped down to her bikini bottoms and left me to sort out our pitch while she went down to the water to cool off. I pulled off my T-shirt and it suddenly felt as though a hundred eyes were watching me, I glanced around but in reality nobody was paying the slightest bit of attention. I kicked off my shoes, took a deep breath and with one swift movement I pulled down my shorts and I was as naked as the day I was born. It felt so liberating to be nude with so many other people around and it was as if the whole of my senses seemed to go into overdrive. The gentle sea breeze felt so good against my naked skin as the Spanish sunshine warmed every inch of me. I stood for a while surveying the scene around me, looking around at the other people on the beach, no supermodels here, no perfect bodies, just normal everyday people who preferred not to wear bathing suits. One thing amazed me more than anything else, I had been harbouring a secret fear that once I was nude in the midst of everyone else I would get an erection, but it just didn't happen, even as I looked at all the other naked bodies around me I didn't feel sexually aroused, but that was soon to change. I sat down on the beach blanket just in time to see Jane emerge from the sea a few meters in front of me, she had removed her bikini bottoms and was carrying them balled up in her hand, almost as if she was embarrassed to own them. As long as I live I will never tire of the sight of Jane's body, I admired her as she confidently walked back up the beach towards me; her large tanned breasts swayed from side to side as she walked in the soft, yielding sand, she was brown all over, save for the white outline of her bikini bottoms. Her pussy was completely shaven but for a short pencil-thin line of hair just above it. Now I was aroused, you see under normal circumstances naked Jane = sex, it was a simple equation that my brain often used to engage my genitals, and for the most part it had served as a reliable system. I shifted uncomfortably, feeling very exposed and trying to hide what had happened, but as Jane arrived back at the blanket she saw it immediately. ' Well, you seem to be enjoying yourself' she said with a smirk. 'Just ignore it and it will go away' I replied. 'I never thought I'd hear you say that to me. You have to go for a swim; the water feels great when you're nude' said Jane 'I will when I can walk down there instead of pole-vaulting' I rolled onto my front and concentrated on reading the dog-eared paperback I found in our room and waited for my erection to die down. We soon settled into our usual beach routine of sunning, swimming and people watching. Jane seemed particularly amused by the guys who would walk along the beach in ones or twos, fully dressed and acting as if they were just passing through the nude section on their way to somewhere else, but on finding an impenetrable wall of rock at the end of the beach they would have to turn around and sheepishly head back the way they came, Jane would give them a little wave and shout 'hello again' and 'nice to see you again so soon' as they passed us for the second time in as many minutes. We stayed at the beach long into the day, and as a blissful afternoon melted into early evening, the beach slowly became less populated, people slowly filtered away in search of food and cold beer until there was only a handful of us left. The sun had lost most of its afternoon heat and the sky began to redden over the horizon, a mild breeze had begun to blow in off the sea but it was still warm enough to stay comfortably nude. I propped myself up on my elbows and examined the scene around us, there were only 3 couples left nearby and one of those was getting dressed and preparing to leave. The remaining two seemed to have been seduced by the romance of this beautiful, balmy evening, the nearest couple to us had snuggled up together; he was laid against her in a spoon position, slowly running his hand up and down her front, across her tummy and moving up to cup her breasts as he kissed her neck. The other couple had gone down to the waters edge and were lying naked in the sand just above the surf line, I could hear them laughing every time a wave broke over them, distracting them from their own kissing and petting. It looked like either couple could break out into spontaneous lovemaking at any moment, normally I guess that would seem a little strange but here it just felt so natural. Jane had also been taking in the view and as I lay back down she stretched herself flat out on the blanket, arms above her head. 'This is just heavenly, I'm never going to wear a swimming costume again after today' she said. 'We still have over a week left here, we can come here every day if you like' I replied. 'Hmmm, let me think, spend every day in this paradise or spend it playing hide and seek with those thrill suckers' she said, her brow creased in a comedy expression of deep thought. I laughed out loud as I leaned over her and placed a slow, lingering kiss on her lips and my hand on her tummy. As we softly kissed, I moved my hand up to caress her breasts, welcoming my touch she purred as I gently rubbed back and forth between them, feeling her nipples harden under my palms. Jane reached down to where my hard cock was pressed against her thigh and began to slowly stroke it and said 'We have to stop or pretty soon I will need this inside me and we can't do it here in front of other people' 'Somehow I don't think the others would take offence' I replied. We both looked up to see it the other two couples were watching us but they were too busy with themselves, the couple that had been lying in the surf had gone further into the sea and I could see her legs wrapped around his middle as they made love in the waist deep water. The other couple that had been in the spoon position only a couple of minutes before were still on their beach blanket but he was now lying on his back and we could clearly see her head bobbing slowly up and down as she took his stiff cock in her mouth. 'See what I mean' I said as I lay back down on the blanket. Jane positioned herself closer to me and lying on her side, lifted one leg over my waist as I rolled over to face her. I could feel her sopping wet pussy pressed against the underside of my cock where it lay trapped between us. After a minute or so of kissing, Jane lifted her head to take a cursory look around before reaching down and taking hold of my hard cock, guiding it inside her, emitting a low moan as it slowly filled her velvety pussy. I moved my free hand and pushed both of her ample breasts upwards, taking one of her hard nipples in my mouth, I could taste the saltwater on them as I sucked and licked. Jane's moans of pleasure became increasingly louder; she no longer seemed to care if anyone could hear. I knew how to drive her wild, I would pull back so that my cock almost left her pussy and then wait until she was almost rabid with desire, her body language practically begging me to plunge it back deep inside her, and then I would. Jane rolled over, she was done with my teasing and wanted to take control, she pushed me onto my back and I placed my hands on her thighs as her pendulous breasts swung in circles above my face as she immediately began to work herself up and down on my cock, slowly at first but gradually building up speed. Jane had an expression of sheer joy on her face as she pressed down hard with each thrust of her hips, her teeth biting into her bottom lip between moans of ecstasy until eventually I could felt her begin to shudder as a powerful orgasm began to rip through her body, her pussy constricted tightly around my cock and she cried out loud, desperately fighting a hopeless battle to hold on as long as she could, but she surrendered willingly when I began to pump my seed into her. We lay together for a while, my cock still inside her and my semen trickling down her inner thigh. The couple who were in the sea walked past where we lay, Jane opened her eyes and exchanged a smile as they walked past, looking down at us as she led him by the hand back up the beach. We got up after a little while and walked hand in hand down to the sea and fooled around in the cool water like a couple of kids as the last of the day sank behind the horizon. Eventually our grumbling tummies got the better of us so we returned to our blanket, reluctantly dressed and left the now empty beach. Sanctuary Old habits die hard. Jamie Lee was reminded of the truth of that aphorism the day that she forgot to use the ladies’ room. As a transsexual who’d undergone counseling and was presently taking daily doses of estrogen both to repress her testosterone and to maintain her breasts, softened skin, fuller buttocks, and the other secondary sexual characteristics of the female, Jamie usually remembered to use the public restroom that coincided with her change in sex. However, today, distracted by her concern with her father’s declining health, she entered the men’s room, as she had done all the years of her life, before she’d discovered that she was a woman trapped inside the body of the opposite sex. She’d done more than merely enter the wrong restroom. She’d actually stepped up to one of the urinals, unzipped her jeans, withdrawn her penis, and begun to piss. She knew she’d made a mistake when she heard the man who’d just entered the facility cry, “What the hell?” Mortified, Jamie blushed, willing her bladder to cease emptying itself, and stuffing her penis back into her pants. “Freak!” the man cried. Jamie’s blush deepened. She hurried toward the exit, without pausing to wash her hands. The man blocked her way. He was big and burly. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?” “Please,” Jamie entreated him, “just let me go.” He grinned humorlessly. “Like hell.” He strode toward Jamie, but she dodged him and sprinted toward the door, as fast as she could on her heels. Behind her, she heard the big man’s grunt of surprise, followed by a curse. She never knew whether he chased her (although she suspected he did), because she never glanced back to find out. In a couple of seconds, she’d exited the men’s room and was in the hallway outside. What if the big lug did intend to pursue her? Jamie asked herself. She didn’t know whether he intended to hurt her physically, molest her sexually, or call the cops on her for being in the wrong restroom. It was best not to take chances, she decided, and fled into the sanctuary of the ladies’ room. Even the muscle-bound creep who’d accosted her in the men’s room wouldn’t dare step foot inside the ladies’ room, Jamie thought. She was right. The bully didn’t chase her into the ladies’ room. Some place were safe, even from men who would intimidate, harass, browbeat, or otherwise persecute a beautiful young transsexual for no other “reason” that she was different from genetic women. Assholes like the idiot who’d confronted her in the men’s room couldn’t live and let live; they had to control and dominate others. Outside, the oppressor paused in the hallway. His feeble mind sought to figure out how his prey could have escaped him. He was right on her ass. In fact, the restroom door had slammed in his face. If it hadn’t been for the damned door, he’d surely have been able to seize the freak by her--or his--or its--wrist before it got away. As it was, the freaky bitch couldn’t have gone far. There was still time for him to have a little fun with “her.” And fun it would be, too. One hell of a pair of tits jutted from her taut blouse, and both a fine ass and long, tapering legs were evident inside her tight jeans. There’d been no time for her--or him--or it to go more than a few yards before he’d opened the door and given chase. Think! He told himself. Where could the transgendered freak have gone? His eyes fell on the stylized figure that represented a woman in a skirt, and he knew, as soon as he saw it, that his quarry had fled into the ladies’ room. Of course! He told himself. There was nowhere else the freaky bitch could have hidden in so short a time! Now that he’d located his intended victim’s hiding place, another problem presented itself. He couldn’t very well enter the ladies’ restroom. There were some places that were off-limits even to a big galoot such as he--not that the no-man’s land of the ladies’ room had been any obstacle to the transsexual freak. Maybe he could flush the shemale bitch out by announcing “her” presence to one of the women who entered the lavatory, he thought, grinning. It wasn’t long before he had the chance to test his plan. Within minutes, a beefy, blue-haired matron waddled up the hallway, making her way toward the ladies’ room. “Watch out!” the bully warned. “There’s a freak in there!” The bovine woman eyed him suspiciously. “What?” she demanded. “One them transsexuals went in there.” Her beady eyes narrowed. “How do you know this person is a transsexual?” “He was in the men’s room, peeing in the urinal just before he ran into the ladies’ room.” The beefy woman scowled. “What are you doing lurking about the ladies’ room, anyway?” “I wanted to warn women about this wannabe woman freak.” “My daughter is a transsexual,” the bovine woman declared, anger flashing in her eyes. The bully gulped. “Oh.” “She uses the ladies’ room, too.” The bully took a few steps away from the glowering matron. “Oh.” “Don’t you know what a transsexual is?” The bully shuffled his feet, looking at the floor. “No, ma’am, I guess not.” “A person trapped in the body of the opposite sex,” she explained. “Oh.” “If a transsexual entered the ladies’ room, she has every right to be there.” “Yes, ma’am.” “As much right as any other woman.” “Okay.” “And far more right than you have lurking about. I have a mind to notify security about you.” “No need, ma’am. I was just leaving.” The beefy woman measured the bully with her eyes, as if she were fitting him for a funeral shroud. “You’d better be!” He slinked off, down the hallway. The matron shook her head as he watched his retreat. Then, she went into the ladies’ room to see what in the world had possessed her daughter to have gone into the men’s room. Sanctuary Disclaimer: The character of Ardeth Bay belongs to Stephen Sommers and Universal Studios. No infringement intended. All other characters owned by the author. Author Notes: This story is based on the character Ardeth Bay, played by Oded Fehr, from the movies The Mummy and The Mummy Returns. This is the first installment taking place after The Mummy Returns. It's not necessary to have read the previous installments but I do recommend it because of the chronological nature of these stories. Feedback welcomed. ~~~ Abruptly, as if conjured up by her distraught, yearning mind, he was there. Walking towards her through a throng of people was her husband; still in full battle regalia, walking as casually as if he were on vacation - but there was nothing casual in the dark gaze that swept over the warrior she had tended to and then leaped to her, raking her from head to foot in a single, piercing, encompassing look. He was tattered and sweaty and dirty; his robes torn and revealing an assortment of nicks and cuts and bruises. For all that, he was strong and vital; even across the distance his vitality seared her, an almost palatable force, and a shaking began deep inside her. After the battle, when the first wounded had come in - when she had learned that Ardeth had come through miraculously without serious injuries and that the O'Connells were safely on their way to Cairo, she'd had to force her focus on the men who hadn't. As the other healers, she too had pushed personal concerns to the back of her mind for the long hours ahead; awareness that her husband and children were safe and protected had enabled her to concentrate on the work at hand and the men who needed her healing skills - keenly aware also that she was more fortunate than many of the tribeswomen. But now, when he stood only a short distance away, all her senses focused on Ardeth, and the deep, churning emotion swelling inside her demanded recognition. Her legs seemed to have a will of their own, carrying her towards him while her eyes never left his. Pride, love and desire swelled in his heart as Ardeth watched his wife walking towards him, taking his breath away. She was pale, and her usually so expressive face wore a mask that he had come to know as her healer's face - but her control was cracking, and he could see the strain of the effort it was taking her to maintain it. Lines of exhaustion marred her face, which was streaked with dirt and blood where she had absently swiped sweat off of her; her robes were dusty and dirty, and he knew that if he looked, he would find blood on them, too. She was not one to shy away from hard work. Ardeth Bay knew his wife - despite the week of hard travel and working last night and this morning to erect the temporary camp, despite preparing for the flood of warriors needing the healers' help, she likely had snatched only a minute here and there to eat and rest. He brushed her cheek with the back his hand, needing to touch her and unheeding of the tradition of his people that it was unseemly to show emotion in public - today they had triumphed over seemingly insurmountable obstacles - they were entitled. But of course that wasn't enough - tension had been coiling inside him after the battle, transmorphing from battle lust to sexual lust that had to be ruthlessly suppressed because of duty... his and hers. Now it boiled to the surface abruptly, and he narrowed his eyes at the surge of lust writhing inside him, burning his blood and bringing him fully erect. He drew a deep breath in an effort of control. Her hand came up to cover his in a lingering, tender caress and he turned his hand, bringing hers up to his lips, feeling the roughness of her palm. She had washed her hands, but the flat, metallic smell of blood and the bitter scents of medicine still clung to it. "I'm dirty." Angelina gave a rueful half-smile but made no attempt to pull her hand away. A not so subtle tension was emanating from him; his eyes had darkened to nearly black and her own skin felt prickly, too tight. She wanted to be alone with Ardeth, even if it was just for a few precious moments. "So am I." Ardeth pulled her closer but she resisted the lure of his hard muscled body and the haven of his strong arms, glancing around her. Their tent was on the other side of the camp, and from the looks of him, he would never make it - she knew she wouldn't. There was a supply tent nearby, and she lead him to it, skin prickling with the heat of his body so close behind her. She moved directly to the little table as Ardeth secured the tent flap. On the table was an old oil lamp and matches, and she lit it. She turned around and had to grip the edge of the table for support as her knees almost buckled, so pure was the relief that flooded through her: with swift, economic movements, never taking his burning gaze from her, Ardeth was removing his numerous armaments, and that, more than anything, alleviated the quiet terror inside her: Ardeth Bay was a warrior first and foremost - if he had believed there were ever a shred of a threat left to her or his family, he would not have disarmed himself. "So it's truly over?" Her voice was barely more than a whisper. Assorted other weapons joined the scimitar on the pile of blankets along with his bandoleers. He came to her and she stood riveted, galvanized by pure, aching relief and his compelling eyes. His hands moved on the fastenings of her overrobe swiftly and surely. "Yes, my love. It truly is over." "What about the O'Connell boy?" She didn't appreciate the O'Connell's presence in Egypt; it always seemed to herald problems and danger for her husband - but she could and would honor her husband's friendship with them. "Safe and uninjured." His attention was more on the robe and the skin of her neck was revealed when he pulled it open, revealing the tunic and the long skirt she wore underneath. He touched her neck where her pulse was jumping madly, his fingers warm and sure, sending shiver after shiver relentlessly down her spine. Her nipples hardened, pushing against the fabric of her tunic, and Ardeth made a rough sound in his throat. "Good." She shrugged her shoulders and let the robe drop to the ground, Ardeth didn't say more; he didn't have to - his darkened, glittering eyes telegraphed the depth of his emotions far more eloquently than mere words ever would, and he read the response in her eyes. He closed his fist in her hair and pulled her head back as she lifted her face towards him, offering her mouth to his even as he claimed her lips like a man starved. His taste was tart and wild and shatteringly familiar; his mouth hot and hard and hungry, as she had known it would be. He had not only survived but triumphed where defeat had seemed unavoidable - and now Ardeth was in her arms, vibrant and alive and, above all... safe. Relief so pure and overwhelming washed over her that her knees gave; for a long, aching moment she could do nothing but cling to him, bound by invisible bonds, and let him have her mouth as he wished, relishing the feel of his hard body and strong arms around her; joyously sensing the hot force of life coursing in him. His entire body was taut, straining, and through the robes she could feel his heavy erection press against her belly, thick and hard and urgent. Tension quivered in the strong muscles under her hands, the result of fierce need tightly leashed, and she melted inside. Two of their four children had been conceived in the wake of a great battle, and she had seen other couples slip away into the night - in the next weeks and months to follow, there would be many weddings; and in nine months time, many babies would born in the tribes. It was the way of things. She understood what he was saying with his hunger: there was death, yes, but life marched on hand in hand with it. His hands were rough and demanding as they moved upon her flesh, exploring and conquering what already belonged to him, and him alone. With sure knowledge, he roughly teased the sensitive, already hardening peaks of her breasts with the rough pads of his thumbs into aching, throbbing awareness, greedily swallowing the moan she made deep in her throat. Urgently, driven by a need more sharper and deeper than physical desire, he stroked her thighs and hips; kneading her bottom, he filled his hands with the full, rounded flesh of her buttocks, pulling her hips against his, into a grinding contact with the fullness of his arousal. She more felt than heard the raw, hoarse groan of primitive need vibrating in his throat, and she arched her lower body hard against his as her own needs struck sparks in her yearning flesh. Then those long, elegant, devilishly knowledgeable fingers slipped between her legs, feeling her, rubbing her with rough tenderness through her clothes. Riptides of emotion and sensation seized her entire being and smashed through her barriers... as if they never existed. The sound that came from her throat was half a gasp, half a sob as the familiar, ever powerful sensations flooded her entire being - he knew just how to touch her, how to initiate the very response he craved. The steely grip of the quiet terror that had held her heart in a vise the past week cracked the tiniest bit; the fears and the sheer relief that she lived and that he lived; that the children were safe; love and lust - guilt and joy, grief and triumph - a myriad of emotions spiraled and swelled ungovernable inside her, interwoven with the exquisite physical pleasure that was always between them. Since he departed for England, she had lived in the quiet terror of losing him, her chest squeezing painfully at the thought of a blade or a bullet extinguishing the hot vitality in his powerful body - of Ardeth lying cold and still and forever gone from her. But he was alive, and he was hers; her body heated and melted, throbbing in a near painful demand of its rightful due. A painful emptiness pulsated within her - emptiness that she, in the deep recesses of her heart, had feared would remain unfulfilled. She moaned deep in her throat, an achy sound full of need - she could not wait, not for another minute - she ached with a savage need to feel his weight pressing down on her and the seductive, comforting heat of his body enveloping her. She ached to feel him moving strongly, powerfully inside her, and her quiet acquiescence died a swift and strangled death. Angelina came alive in his arms; her mouth moving with wild, deliberate abandon underneath his and her tongue matching his, hungry slide for hungry slide, her hands releasing their death grip on his shoulders and sliding around his back. Her grip was strong as she went down, awkwardly pulling him with her on the leather covered floor, for neither of them could stand to break the mating of their mouths. He was cradled between her thighs; she was soft and warm and pliant; achingly, wonderfully female beneath his own hard body as she writhed urgently under him, driven by a need as fierce as his. Blinded by a hunger sharper and deeper than mere physical desire, he ground hard against her; letting her feel the hard ridge of his arousal. He tore his lips from her mouth and gulped in air, burying his face in the hollow of her throat where shoulder joined neck. He pressed his open mouth against the hot skin, breathing in deeply of her scent - she, as he, had not had time to wash yet; her smell was that of sun and sand; of the bitter odors of blood and medicine, and, underlying it all, her own unique scent that he would recognize everywhere, anytime. She arched against him passionately, raising her knees to hug his hips, and he hung his head low, closing his eyes and gritting his teeth as she ground her pelvis against his trapped, burgeoning shaft. He craved to be buried deep inside her; to feel her slick, silky sheath quake about him as she climaxed, to hear the hot little cries she made as he drove his thick length into her. Her hand slipped between their bodies, and he drew in a sharp hissing breath, sweat breaking out all over his body as he braced himself for the touch he knew was coming. Wild electricity shot through his entire body as she folded her fingers about his swollen, throbbing member as best she could through the clothes. He could feel the quiver in her muscles; she was trembling with urgency beneath him, shaking with the force of her emotions, and her touch was both delicately feminine, and boldly demanding - a searing brand of possession he would never dream of challenging. He felt the sharp bite of her teeth and hot, wet laving of her tongue as she tortured the sensitive skin of his throat, and groaned thickly in disappointment as her hand left his swollen, aching shaft. She made a soothing sound in her throat, and, in no time at all she had dealt with his clothing - by unlacing, unfastening and moving aside only what was strictly necessary with deftness born of practice - and he truly had cause to groan as his straining shaft fell into her waiting hands, her slim fingers folding about him in an exquisite caress that took his breath away. She read the signs, knew the level of his arousal - knew that a couple of quick strokes would finish it for him. Yet, not touching him was not an option - once more, she had faced the stark possibility of living without her husband, her lover - the father of her children. Never getting to touch him, never again feeling the hot, vital current of life coursing through him... it was impossible not to seek confirmation in this way. His entire body stiffened and a raw groan rumbled up from deep with his chest as she explored the thick bulbous tip; closed her fingers about the rigid length of his shaft, hot and smooth and throbbing, steel covered in softest velvet, pulsing with independent life as his powerful body trembled above her. "Enough!" The command came through gritted teeth, his voice guttural nearly beyond recognition. Shifting his weight, Ardeth roughly yanked at her skirt until it bunched around her hips, pure heat flaring in his eyes as his searching fingers met with slick, silky flesh instead of cloth. Breath shuddered in her lungs as he caught her beneath her thighs and lifted her legs to wrap them around his waist, the roughness of his robes under the smooth skin of her legs adding another sensation to her already rioting nerve endings. She shifted her grip on his swollen shaft, lodging the thick head of him where she felt the most empty, breath snagging in her throat at the feel of him. For a moment, their eyes locked - the mutual yield and demand acknowledged and fulfilled. Then his mouth slanted over hers in a dueling kiss of deliberate, savage passion and breath exploded from her lungs in a hard gasp as he plunged into her to the hilt. Her body arched in a feminine shock and her fingers dug hard into the steely muscles of his back. She more felt than heard the helpless groan that vibrated in his throat, and his body shuddered with relief, as if he could not have borne another moment unconnected to her. For a moment he held still, a throbbing, stretching, heavy presence deep within her, burning her, driving her mad. Then he began moving, taking her hard and fast - as she had known he would - driving his full length into her with feverish strength, kissing her with deliberate, heavy wildness, muffling the wild cries that threatened to erupt from her throat, muffling his own moans of exquisite torture. She was drowning, burning. Ardeth was incredibly, heart achingly familiar inside her - thick and hard and pulsing with an independent life, so deep inside her that it seemed unfathomable they could ever be two separate entities again. She heard herself sobbing, harsh sounds that burned in her throat as her body arched fiercely, eagerly, possessively to accept the powerful thrusts of his body. Everything inside her gathered and focused and spiraled, exploding with the pure physical ecstasy her husband wrought in her and desperately she thrust a hand in his hair to bring his mouth hard against her own to muffle the wild cry she felt building within her - and then she began climaxing, clamping down hard on his hot swollen rod of flesh moving blissfully, relentlessly inside her. White-hot pleasure exploded in all her nerve endings, and she bucked violently underneath his crushing weight and clasped him to her with convulsive strength as she plummeted headlong into the swirling, mind-bending release. Tiny red sparks exploded behind Ardeth's closed eyelids. His lungs heaved with the effort of drawing breath; his heart thundered, reverberating against his ribcage. His entire being focused on the woman in his arms, his whole body seeming to expand until his skin would burst, and blood roared through his veins in a dizzying rush. She heaved in his arms, and need burned through him; he thrust ever deeper, ever harder inside her, helpless against the shattering sensation of her tight, clinging sheath clasping his aching length. Her soft internal muscles milked his burgeoning shaft, and he buried himself deeply within her, his powerful body arching like a bow as his climax roared through him, shaking him. A hoarse cry burst from his throat, greedily drank in by Angelina, and he shuddered; caught and shattered and healed in a way that he had found only with her. ~*~ After the evening meal, after tending to the wounded, after attending the things that could not wait for the morning, they slept; and waking, they made slow sweet love. Afterwards she held him, and he kissed her as if he couldn't get enough of her; kisses as hard and deep as if their passion had not just been expended, kisses as light and delicate as if she'd never been kissed. Tears seeped from beneath her lashes, and he kissed them away too. Love was in his eyes, and a far more deeper and aching emotion that tucked at her heartstrings; he was a strong man, a self-sufficient man - one not easily given to admitting, or showing, to a need. But he loved her, and his love was her sanctuary. His chest hurting at how close he had come to never touching her again - never seeing his sons growing into men - and he thanked Allah, not for the first time, for gifting him with such a woman - with the strength and spirit to take him and his duty and his needs and his darkness and match them and make them her own. He knew women who would cringe from her husband if he came to her as he had come to Angelina - had before and would again; foul smelling and dirty, sweat dried upon and blood staining his clothes and body, darkness in his soul. The soft feel of her body, the strength of her embrace, the all-encompassing passion of her response to him - it was all achingly dear, exquisitely familiar, and he was acutely aware of how close annihilation had been. But she was safe, and here, in her arms, in her body, in her heart, was sanctuary. Together they kept the darkness at bay. ~FINIS~ Stories in the series: Ardeth & Angelina Series #1 Desire Ardeth & Angelina Series #2 Behind Closed Doors Ardeth & Angelina Series #3 By Morning Light Ardeth & Angelina Series TMR #1 Sanctuary Sanctuary It is late, and finally I am in that brief peaceful time between when the children are in bed and I go to bed. Although I am engaged in chat with several people right now, including you, I get up and head to the bathroom, saying nothing polite to anyone because I cannot be bothered to take the time. I remove my shirt and stare at myself in the mirror, and the reminders of you left on my body. Above my right breast are several small pink marks left by your nails tearing across my skin. My shoulders are covered with fiery red marks. Not your standard high school hickeys but actual hard bite marks purple in a few places but mostly that screaming, crying red; the kind that lets you know it really hurt. There are other bruises on my shoulders as well, but they aren't really yours, are they? It is surprising to me that I am so fascinated by these marks. So entranced by them. I am cataloguing them and memorizing them not certain of their meaning but knowing that I carried away the more concrete reminder of our time together. You get only the memory; I get the marks, which I can look at any time. That is my special possession, but you know I am not possessive; you have only to ask to see them. I could never stand it when lovers left their emblem on my skin. I am tired of the word "mark" so I pause here and look for an alternative; my Thesaurus says thus " a device pointing distinctly to origin of ownership" and think that perhaps the word "mark" is a good one after all. I think I will use the word over and over again after all, but you know why don't you? I now finally allow my mind to slip back to the morning and afternoon activities. We explored pain together, and made a show of it, in my large sumptuous bed made for sensual activities, but there are few who could understand our kind of sensuality. It was softer in the morning, your nails raking lightly across my skin, your hands in my hair, pulling...just a little, not like him, he likes more control. And then the bite, we love the bite; it is the most direct expression of who we are. Then the afternoon. This is clearer in my mind. This is a more serious voyage of discovery. You start so gently with the hairbrush in my hair. I revel in the feel of the pulling on my scalp. I love the way you love my hair. I have always hated it, but you could almost make me love it too. It is now that your nails begin to dig and scratch and you tell me you will sharpen them and bring the blood that way. And I cannot help but imagine how they will tear and wonder how that will compare to the blade. It was the blade that took us here, and necessity. The blade which is not the sharpest blade you can buy, it too tears and rips. We started with the blade because we had, we had no choice, we would never have gotten here any other way, but Fate must have known that. You made sure I knew I was safe, you made me comfortable, and you let me float in sensation. And he watched, not sure what to think, what to want, afraid that the realization of his darkest fantasies was possible in the here and now, and it is. And our love for each other which also grows into our love for him has found a new expression and I don't want to think anymore. The nails dig into the bruises he left. This is my request. I cannot believe it can feel this good to hurt this much. And still I want more, he wants more, we want more, but you want to play and wonderfully you do, making us wait, keeping us on edge. You tease him and me by playing where he would lay claim. And I can feel his need growing but we both know you are not ready and until you are ready until you have made us both hurt, there will be no satisfaction. When the bite finally comes it is almost too much. I am on the edge of too much and not enough and you take more from me with the bite than the creamy whiteness of my skin. And finally now he can take too. So I lay in your arms and we let him take what he needs because he could not get enough from the bite, and though I am not touched, I feel the ecstasy of need and fulfillment I bring you both, and I know finally I am almost home. Sanctuary At 47, the opportunities for spending time with 20-something women are dwindling. I walk, talk, and exude "professional", but I know that as each year passes, so do the opportunities to establish relationships with younger women. This is especially true considering the fact that I want nothing to do with the friendly neighborhood "gold-diggers" that seem to appear out of the woodwork when I visit bars or clubs. I have met some extremely beautiful women over the years and never had the courage to pursue relationships because I've always been somewhat intimidated by them. However, one such woman, Dani, was assigned to a project with me and a few other people. Dani is a beautiful woman, 29 and married for about a year. In fact, our personal relationship seemed to bloom after her marriage because I no longer looked at her as a potential "relationship" (sounds like I avoid those, huh?). Except where women are concerned, I am a very laid back individual. Although I am very aggressive in my career and sporting activities, I have learned not to be rattled by circumstances, preferring to let things happen and then create strategies to overcome them. Dani, on the other hand, is prone to "stress". She is often stressed-out about happenings at work and home. Apparently, her husband is kind of an idiot who does not realize two things. (1) he is the luckiest man in the world; and (2) with some tweaks in his strategy, he could make Dani the happiest woman in the world. Over the past year, Dani and I have provided "mental relief" for each other. When she is stressed about something, anything, she knows that she can talk to me and that I'll listen and provide feedback only when she asks for it. She calls me her sanctuary. She also trusts in me and in our relationship to the point that she knows we will both maintain the secrecy of our discussions. Recently, we had to travel to Cleveland to provide support for a project implementation. Considering four of us went on the trip, there was no pressure or awkwardness about handling "evening" activities. For the most part, our evenings consisted of dinner, discussion of the project, laughing about all four of our personal lives, and retirement to our respective rooms for TV and in-room movies. On the third night of our five night journey, the relationship between Dani and I changed significantly. At about 10:00 on Tuesday evening, I had finished surfing the internet and caught up on a pot-load of emails. I had just put my computer away and was preparing for bed (well, watching TV for an hour or so while I fell asleep). The lights were off when I heard a soft knock on the door. When I checked the peephole, there was Dani. After fumbling with the locks, latches, and "do not disturb" card, I finally opened the door. "What's up Dani?" I barely managed to squeak out from my dry throat. "I need to talk to you," she replied, "no advice tonight, I just want to vent about my life." Oh, yippee, I thought How long is this going to take? I couldn't believe that I was thinking these thoughts...here was this beautiful woman...focus on the possibilities! "Come on in" I told her and watched her walk slowly into the dark room. I flipped the switch by the door so that there was at least a minimal amount of light in the room. She smelled good, like Dani, as she walked into the room. She was wearing a pair of low-rider jeans with the cute pink pullover that she had worn to dinner. The only exception was that she had bare feet. Her heels were gone and I couldn't help to notice how tiny she looked as she walked into the room. I was dressed for bed, wearing a pair of gym shorts and a "college" t-shirt. I was also beginning to think that this was going to be a very frustrating night. That thought passed quickly as I remembered that as soon as she left, I could always rub one out and sleep in peace, once again the "master of my domain". Dani watched as I sat on the end of the king sized bed and started the conversation by asking "so, what were you doing in the dark?" "I was just going to jump into bed and turn on the TV, you know us old guys need our sleep." She gave me her trademark smile and sat on the other side of the bed, seeming to hesitate as she made each move to determine if it was alright. Then, she simply grabbed two pillows and laid down. I mirrored her actions, not wanting to scare her off (we had this kind of dividing line in our relationship, and this was close to breaching that line. I lay down carefully on the other side, leaving a "DMZ" of about three feet between us. I swear that I had one cheek hanging off of my side and she had at least a partial cheek hanging off of the other side. "So what did you want to talk to me about?" I asked. Then she began to talk about "life with Adam" and recounted her current list of offenses that he was committing on a daily basis. I listened to her voice, not really following the stories, and simply enjoyed having a few minutes to spend with her. After about a half hour, with both of us on our sides facing each other, we both fell asleep. I hadn't slept long when I awoke and noticed that I was in the big bed, alone. Knowing that I had blown an opportunity (but proud of myself at the same time), I pulled the shirt and shorts off and snuggled under the covers. As soon as I settled in (right in the middle of the bed), I heard the toilet flush in the bathroom and Dani came back in. "Holy shit", I thought as she would easily see my shorts and shirt on the floor by the side of the bed. With no light in the room, I simply watched her shadow as she walked around to "her" side of the bed. I then heard her jeans being unsnapped and unzipped and watched the shadowy form pull her jeans, panties, shirt and bra off. Then the horror of the moment compounded as she lifted the corner of the covers and snuggled into the bed beside me. I was on my back and she lay on her left side, throwing a leg over me and laying her head on my shoulder. She could feel how tense I was and began rubbing her hand softly on my chest while whispering "you have always been so wonderful to me, now let me be your sanctuary". Then she kissed me softly on the ear. I tried to free an arm to return the embrace, but she stopped me and whispered "just lay with me and enjoy the closeness we've created. I closed my eyes, relaxed and enjoyed the moment. She continued to rub my chest, although it was not in a sexual way, it was more in a loving, secure way, like the way that you tenderly stroke a lover - - after - - you finish making love. After a few minutes of this, I was completely relaxed and content with the world. If this was what she would consider "sleeping with me", I was ready to accept the challenge on her terms. I began to notice the "little things", she smelled so fresh and good, her body so warm against me, the slow rhythmic beating of her heart, and her warm breath on my neck and chest And then I felt "it" and "it" took my breath away. She shifted her weight slightly and moved her leg toward my stomach. I could feel the unmistakable wetness of her slit as it slid up my thigh. Knowing that patience is a virtue, I made no immediate moves, except I could feel my cock, which had been good up to now, began to rapidly inflate. "Stay still" she whispered as her right hand grabbed my left pec and she rolled her hips against my leg. The nerves in my right thigh confirmed what I was hoping for, she was shaved and she was leaving snail trails all over my leg (at the time, I thought "I'll never wash that leg again"). Her thigh pulled higher and higher up my leg with each roll of her hips, until her soft knee was brushing lightly across my erect cock and balls. As soon as she noticed my erection, her hand left my pec and traveled slowly to my shaft, which she rubbed and pulled using a very light and exciting touch. Dani was going to give herself to me on her terms and she took her time. She was unhurried and seemed to pause for a moment as she added each new dimension to her game, allowing us both to let the feeling settle in before she made the next move. She began softly kissing my neck and the side of my face as hand continued to stimulate my cock and balls. At the same time, her warm thighs surrounded my leg and her wet slit was drooling hot juices on me as she continued to flex, relax, and roll her hips. At just the right time, she rolled over on top of me, held my arms down at my sides, and lifted her hips to straddle me. Then, without a hand for guidance, she maneuvered her pussy into position and slowly engulfed my cock. God, she felt warm inside. When she bottomed out, she positioned herself so her knees were on my hands, just heavy enough for me to know that I was not to move, and she lowered her chest to mine, rubbing her erect nipples in lazy circles against my chest. Her hips kept me locked inside of her and she did not raise, lower, or roll them. "Does this feel good to you?" she asked? "Yes", I replied and looked up into her beautiful dark eyes. I was completely absorbed by her, inside and out, and my mind was quiet, experiencing the moment. "This is your sanctuary", she continued. "This is how you make me feel when you pull the stress out of me. You are a beautiful man and you have always made me feel like a beautiful woman...much more than I deserve. I didn't know any other way to repay you, until I thought of this." With this, she began kissing my face, starting at my eyes, my nose, my chin, and then she softly let her lips touch mine for the first time, and our tongues became great friends. As soon as we began exploring the depths of each others mouths, she began to do something with her internal muscles that I had never felt before. I was up as far as I could go inside of her and she began fucking me, but not by using up and down or side to side motions, but by flexing something inside. It didn't make me feel good, like a good in and out fuck, but it wasn't bad, either. Then I began to understand. Very quickly, her flexing became very pronounced and she stiffened around me, legs, hips, arms, pussy walls, as she had a tremendous orgasm. I don't know exactly what happened, but my balls and ass were soaked with her juices, first hot, and then excitingly cool as the wetness assumed room temperature. "Oh my god", she said, I wasn't going to do that. This is for you." Then she kissed me again and started rolling her hips in a more traditional fucking action. I did my best to slam my cock back into her whenever she pulled away and I was quickly approaching my orgasm. "Dani, I'm getting close, this is your last warning if you don't want me to cum in you". Dani simply raised herself off of my chest, put her weight on her arms, which were still pinning my arms down, and she proceeded to fuck me hard. One more quick orgasm for her and my trigger was pulled as I realized my dream, filling her with hot cum. When it was over, Dani simply freed my arms, told me to hug her tightly, and lay down completely on me. I held her for a long time, until I felt her pussy "spit" my shriveled cock out, followed by a torrent of cum, which again soaked my balls and ass. After we had uncoupled, Dani slid to the side and resumed the same position that she had taken when she first climbed into the bed. "Now close your eyes and sleep in my arms. Tomorrow night, I'll be back to let you reenter my sanctuary". For the first time in years, I slept like a baby.