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The Things

By: wants2oralu



We walk into the restaurant and take our seats. I slide beside you and give you a hug. I pick up the menu and hold it in front of us. You look at it as I look at you! I kiss you on the cheek and say "you look lovely"! You turn and kiss me back and say you love me too. 

The waiter comes over and asks if we are ready to order. We say give us a few but we will take a bottle of champagne and one glass. We look at the menu together and try to decide what to eat. We both look at each other and say the same thing I wanna eat you. We both laugh and kiss. 

We get our bottle of bubbly and give him our order. I pour us a glass and put it to your lips as I say may our love stay as clear as exciting as the liquid in this glass. You drink and take the glass from me. You put it to my lips as my tongue snakes out and licks the cup. I drink and then kiss you as we share the champagne in my mouth. 

I reach under the table and run my hands over your smooth legs. Sliding your skirt all the way up your legs. I reach the middle only to find you left your panties behind. My hand rubs against your slit, as a smile spreads across your face. You get real wet in a hurry. My finger enters you as you repress a moan and slide down in your seat a little. I fuck you slowly and gently feeling all over inside of you. You reach over and rub me through my pants I am sooo hard. 

The waiter comes over with our appetizer and you panic and jerk you hand away. He sets it down on the table and asks if everything is ok at the same time I jam my finger into you. You grunt that everything is just fine. He leaves as I slide under the table. It has long table clothes so no one can see me. 

I kiss my way up your legs as they spread wider. I breath deep god you smell so good. My tongue runs up and down your slit. While my hands massage your legs. I suck your lips into my mouth as you push into me. I hear you breathing faster and trying to keep quiet. I shove my tongue deep into you as I grab your clit. I rub your clit just the way you like as my tongue moves in and out sucking you as hard as I can! You tense up and buck against my face. Your hand reaches down and shoves my face into you as you start to cum. I rub your clit faster as my tongue laps at your slit. I keep it up until you stop trembling and then I suck you one last time. 

I slide back up to the table my face is all covered in your juice. I kiss you so you can taste yourself. Then I grab a napkin and wipe my face off. Just as I am done the waiter comes with dinner. The app is still on the table untouched. He asks if there was something wrong with it. We sat we were just talking and forgot about it. He walks away and you say that was great. It was so hard not to scream out. WE laugh as I tell you not as hard as I am now. 

You reach over and unzip my pants it springs out like it had been waiting for that. You stroke it up and down. Then you slide under the table and swallow it up. Bobbing your head up and down. I put my hand on your head and whisper that feels great you are so good. You rub my nuts and take me deeper into your mouth. It feels soo good I know I wont last long. I lift my ass up and push into your mouth. You bob up and down faster and faster. I swell up and you know I am gonna cum. You take your mouth off and start jacking it fast. Just as I am gonna cum, you clamp back on and swallow it all. You keep sucking until its all empty. Then you lick around it all and put it back and zip me up. 

You get up to the table. You kiss me and shove some into my mouth that you saved just for me. 

The waiter comes back and asks if everything is good. I say we want it boxed up we will eat it at home. He just gets a puzzled look on his face as we have not ate a thing. He takes the food and we both just laugh out asses off. 

We leave the restaurant holding each other close. I open your door and then we kiss passionately. You get in and I close the door. We head on done the road. You slide over and kiss me as your hand lands in my lap. I start getting hard again. You unsnap my pants and start teasing it running your fingers over it. You bend over and start licking on the head of it. I reach over and pull your skirt up and run my finger across your ass to your lips. They are still wet from the restaurant. 

We pull into the motel parking lot. I lift your head up and kiss you deeply. Running my tongue all over the inside of your mouth. We fix ourselves and go to our room. I turn on the radio and Keith Sweat is singing, "Yumi yumi yumi come and give me some". I grab you as we start to dance nice and slow. Hips grinding into each other. I pull your top off and undo your bra as you pull my shirt off to. I kiss you as if feels so good having your tits rubbing against my chest. I unzipp your skirt and it falls to the floor. I stand back a sec and remove the rest of my clothes. We dance and kiss enjoying the feeling of our bodies against each other. 

I pick you up and carry you to the bed. I lay beside you as I run my hands across you breasts the nipples are already hard and sensitive. You climb on top of me and rub your soaking cunt against my hard cock. You bite then kiss each of my nipples. I get goosebumps as you swirl your tongue over them. You lift up and grab me and slide down on it. You get to the bottom and sit up and look at me and say I want you Mark! I want you too I say! 

You start going up and down. You are so hot you are going so hard and fast. Your tits are bouncing up and down I stick my tongue out so they slide across it with each movement. You grab your clit and start to cum all over my cock. Your juice is running down my ass as I buck up against you. You are screaming OHHHHH GODDD MARK FEELSSSS SOOOO GOOOOD!!

You stop and lay down and kiss me. I roll us over and pull out of you. I say you got yours now I am gonna take mine. Smiling wickedly! I nibble on your tits and then push you over. I cover your ass with kisses as my tongue snakes into your tight little hole. I rub your cheeks with my hands giving them a little slap now and then. SMACK! I reach over and grab the lotion and cover your ass with it. Rubbing it all over as my finger slowly works its way into your hole. I fuck you with it until you start pushing back into it. Then I insert another finger and then another until I have 3 fingers going in and out. 

I pull my fingers out and sit up behind you and rub my dick up and down all the way from your pussy to your ass. I shove into your pussy and pump you for a dozen or so strokes. Then I pull out as you push back and moan don't stop. I stick my dick at the entrance of your asshole. I softly push against it and it slowly lets me in. I finally get to the bottom and rest for a minute and let you get used to it. I kiss all over your neck and back tongue going wild like it is has a mind of its own. I start to pull out and push back in. In and out in and out, all the way. I pick up the pace as you start pushing against me knowing that you are enjoying it now. 

I feel you knuckles hitting my balls as you have slide a hand under you and are fingering your pussy. GOD BABY YOU MAKE ME FEEL SOO GOOD! I start fucking you harder as you buck up faster. You say I am gonna cum again cum with me Mark CUMM WITH ME...OHHHHH BABY!! I fuck you faster as you say I am CUMMING BABY no sooner do the words leave your mouth I erupt deep inside of you. We lose all control as we cum together. The whole hotel should be able to hear us as we scream out soo loud! I fall against you as we are finished. I kiss the back of your neck and tell you how great you are. 

I pull out and you roll over and we hold each other. We just lay there for a while just hugging and caressing our bodies. We start kissing and exploring each other again. 

Well that is for the next story...evil smile...I love to tease...smiling... I hope you enjoy this story as much as I did writing it and imagining it!

The Things I Do For You



I walked thorough the lobby of the hotel, wondering if the fact that I was a complete slut and slave to your every whim was apparent to all who saw me. Did it show through my casual clothing and downcast eyes? The concierge has sneered at me and tried to look down my blouse when I asked for the other key to your room. I wondered what he thought of my hard nipples and the barbells that clearly showed through my thin shirt. The walk down the hall was a long one. I found the room and knocked quietly before using the key.

You were waiting for me, but no one else was there. I was nervous. You kissed me, held me for a minute. Then told me to strip and fold my clothes neatly on the dresser. I knew what you wanted so when that was complete I stood with my feet wide apart and my hands behind my neck while you inspected me. 

It was hard not to want to cover myself, still not being used to such close scrutiny. You flicked one of my nipples as you walked around me, then seemed to like the idea of my nipples hard because you started rolling both of them between your thumb and finger, a little harder when I moaned. You told me to hush, but I moaned again under my breath a moment later and you pinched one of my nipples really hard. It almost made my legs buckle under me, and it made you laugh and move your hand to my pussy. 

"My, aren't you my wet little slut? My little pain slut." I closed my eyes against the tears of joy that threatened to run down my face. "I hope you can please me with your task today, Slut."

You directed me to the edge of the bed and told me to sit and open myself to you. I felt ridiculous and whorish spreading myself open, but it was what you wanted and I could tell you enjoyed seeing me that way. It was in your eyes, in your very slight smile as you leaned close to look me over. You stayed there a long time, brushing your fingertips across me once in a while but not really touching me otherwise. I must have started to relax the position I was in, because out of nowhere you smacked my clit with the back of your hand. I cried out and tried to close my legs but you stopped me.

"I am not finished with my inspection of you, Slut. You can close your legs when I tell you to."

I felt so ashamed that I had made you unhappy, and so quickly. I wanted to cry and apologize but you didn't look like you wanted to hear it.

"Put your legs together slut. I would like you to bring me the bag in the closet." It was heavy and I wanted to open it and look inside, but I knew I'd better not. When you had the bag you pulled out a blindfold. 

You then told me that today I would be subjected to pleasuring men for you, but that I was not to know who they were. That they had been told already what they could and could not do to me, and that I was not to object or shy away from whatever they wanted. I was so scared. As you gently pushed me to my knees you told me not to be afraid, that you would be there the whole time and that I would enjoy myself for your sake. You wanted me to find pleasure in being your pet. I shivered when you called me pet, and you noticed and said it again.

"My pet." 

Then the blindfold, and I was told to stay where I was and that you would return in a bit. It seemed like forever that I knelt there alone. My knees hurt and my legs strained to hold myself up the way you had taught me, not resting my thighs on my calves. My palms were sweating, I was nervous. It was hard to breathe normally as I got more and more agitated and uncomfortable.

When you finally returned, I could tell there was at least one other person with you by the noises that accompanied you. I couldn't tell how many, though I tried. Being naked, blindfolded and kneeling with my legs spread made me panic a bit, that these people cold see me but I couldn't tell what any of you was thinking. There was more than one voice other than yours, whispering. 

I heard someone settle on the bed, and from the direction of your voice as you told me to stand I knew it was you. My legs shook and I almost fell as I tried to rise. I was shaking uncontrollably, and one of the unknown men seemed to find it amusing. There was a chuckle and then a hand against my chin, tilting it upward so that whoever it was could look at me. It felt strange, trying to make eye contact thru the blindfold. You told them to inspect me, and I spread my legs and placed my hands behind my head. There was a comment in a cultured voice about my willingness to bare myself. I flushed in embarrassment and tried to look down at the floor, but the hand holding my neck wouldn't let me. I felt like I was going to cry and held it back. A soft kiss was planted on the blindfold, another against the corner of my mouth. I tried to turn away from it and couldn't. I could smell his breath as he chuckled again, fresh and masculine. Then there was breath down near my pussy. I felt my labia caressed and then spread. 

"Oh, she's all wet and ready." A deeper voice than the first one, he sounded mean. 

"I told you that she was my slut and would do anything for me" you replied to him, and that made me able to hold myself straight and regain control of my near panic. I knew that I wanted to make you proud. 

Two fingers thrust their way inside me and I gasped. They were big fingers, and rough. I wondered what the man they belonged to looked like. They wiggled inside me and then were pulled out. Pushed in again. Pulled out. Again, three fingers this time, stretching me open. I almost fell over as the hand on my neck was removed, I didn't realize I had been leaning into it. The fingers disappeared. 

A hand on the top of my head pushed me roughly to my knees and then before I could think or even steady myself there was a cock in my mouth. It was big, and thick. I felt my lips stretch as I tried to keep my teeth away from it. The man pushed himself down my throat, which had never happened before. I couldn't breathe and I gagged and tried to pull away. 

"Relax, bitch" was all I heard, and a hand in my hair holding me tight against his groin. I was going to pass out; there was no air. Then it was gone and I gasped for breath before it happened again. I tried to relax this time, and realized that if I calmed down I could breathe through my nose a little, although my throat kept trying to push him out. He smelled like hard work and beer. I concentrated on breathing and then started licking the underside of this strange mans cock, letting my lips close around him. He pulled out of my mouth enough to let me lick and suck on the head of his dick, making little thrusts into my mouth as I did my best to please him. I even started to enjoy it before he slammed himself back down my throat and started thrusting. I did my best to relax and take it and he sped up his thrusts, groaning. He sounded like a construction worker. 

When he came it was down the back of my throat, with him holding me pressed against his body. I didn't even taste it. He pulled out and it hurt to breathe, I was raw inside. 

I just wanted to rest for a moment, but I knew there was another man in the room, the one who had touched me earlier. I wondered what he had thought watching me, and if the first man was his friend. Did you know them personally? I wondered if I was pleasing you so far.

"Rub your pussy."

The voice was soft and firm, like yours. The command came out of nowhere and it took me some time to realize it was addressed at me. I didn't want to play with myself in front of these men. I hesitated. A noise from the bed and I knew you had gotten up. Shame washed over me as I felt your presence behind me. I started to cry as you knelt behind me and to whisper that I was sorry. 

To my surprise, I felt you settle yourself against my back and kiss my neck. You took my hand and guided it to my clit, moving it so that I was rubbing myself in small circles. I leaned back against you and moaned, rubbing myself harder and pushing a finger into my pussy to lubricate it. You kissed the side of my head and got up. 

I was intent on pleasuring myself when I felt a hand curl itself in my hair. I turned toward the cock I knew was waiting, the one attached to the nice voice. I tried to suck it into my mouth, but was stopped by the hand in my hair. I tried again and was allowed to wrap my lips around the smooth head before it was taken away. I moaned. I wanted to suck this man more than I could believe possible. My fingers were moving on my clit, fast and then slowly so that I wouldn't cum. The man held me immobile while he rubbed the head of his dick around my mouth and across my lips. I licked my lips to taste the precum I could feel there. 

I could not believe how turned on I was by this mans teasing. I wanted to beg him to use my mouth, to fuck it, but I could never beg anyone but you without permission. I moaned against the tip of his cock, and finally he loosened the hold on my hair, running his fingers through it.

I gratefully sucked him into my mouth, using my tongue the way I know men like it, absurdly grateful for the taste of him. He held still and let me suck and lick and even nibble lightly just under the head. I pulled back and thrust myself forward on him, and he rewarded me with a quiet growl of pleasure. I had stopped playing with myself. I wrapped one hand around the base of his shaft and placed the other against his stomach, using it to steady my body as I drew forward and back. 

I felt his hand leave my hair, and then he grabbed my wrists in both hands and pulled them up above my head to hold them against his chest. I moaned in ecstasy around his cock and he laughed lightly, easing himself in and out of me with measured thrusts. It seemed like it would never end, just him and me and you watching and approving as I became more animated in my role here. I wanted this man to fuck me, to use me. He obviously had the control to play me like an instrument for his pleasure. I worshipped his cock while you and the other man watched, no longer caring what I looked like or what kind of slut the nameless man thought me. I wanted you to be proud of me today.

I almost cried out when he pulled himself away from me, lifting me to my feet by my wrists. He held them over my head and kissed me, teasing my lips with his tongue and pulling back as I strained forward for more. I could feel the length of his body along mine, lean and muscled, his hard-on lying against my stomach. He was tall, I had to tilt my head all the way back to give him access to my mouth, which he teased until I was moaning into him, begging without words. 

As I floated on desire, another pair of hands encircled my wrists, pulling my arms back behind me to lock around the neck of the man suddenly there. He easily held both of my wrists in one of his massive hands, keeping me on my toes. He was taller even than the other man. I could feel his cock against my back, throbbing and hot. His free hand reached around to cup my left breast, savagely pinching me. I felt my wetness running down my legs as he pulled on my nipple hard enough to make me yelp. He laughed cruelly and did it again, rubbing himself against my back and leaving it sticky with his juices. I was dizzy with the pain. He reached further around me to my other breast, and the pain was excruciating as he seemed to be trying to yank the barbell out of my flesh completely. I felt the man in front of me bend his legs, reaching down to pull me up and open. My feet no longer touched the floor, I was held up by my wrists and my thighs. I was entered in one smooth motion, all the way to the core of me. I let my head fall forward and moaned as he pulled out and slammed back in.

Suddenly he was gone; my wrists were let go and I fell on the floor only to be dragged up by my hair. I was tossed toward the bed by the rough one. The other one caught me and pulled me on top of him. I almost came when he shoved himself into me, I had to just breathe for a moment to regain control. He seemed to know this and held still, letting me calm myself before slowly moving his hips in circles, grinding my clit while he fucked me. It was intense, all the sensations I felt while not being able to see. I felt the bed shift, knowing that the other man had joined us. I had an awful realization that my ass was in the air just before the man under me said "Do it."

He held my hips steady as I was brutally opened and filled. I screamed, and my mouth was stuffed with something. I was in so much pain, but my pussy was dripping and I was so close to coming. 

They started moving together inside me, one pulling out while the other thrust in. My ass was dry and every thrust hurt but I was beyond caring. I wanted to beg to cum but my mouth was full. I wasn't going to be able to hold out much longer, and I couldn't displease you by coming without your permission.

All of a sudden you was there, petting my hair. 

"Come for me sweets. Come for me with these men inside you."

My orgasm crashed over me. Everything seemed to get quiet as my juices flooded down my leg and over the cock inside me. I vaguely felt the man in my ass pumping harder and then the hot flood of his release was running out of me as he pulled away. I was pushed over onto my back and then tasted my own pussy juice as the other mans cock was shoved into my mouth just in time for me to catch his cum. I licked and sucked him clean, loving the taste of us together. 

Lying there, sore and unable to move, I heard them leave. Water ran in the bathroom and then a cool washcloth was cleaning me while you whispered about what a good job I had done and how pleased you were with me. I waited for you to make me service you, wanting to please you with my abused mouth. Instead you lay down next to me and cuddled me to your chest, kissing my hair and forehead as my breathing slowed. I felt so happy lying there against you, knowing that I had made you proud and that you were pleased with me. I would for anything for you.



The Things I Do for You



My husband, Luke, had a fantasy. He wanted me to get fucked by another man. He didn't want to be there, but he wanted to hear all the details afterwards. Well, I have to say, the idea excited me, and scared me a little, but I'm a good wife and I would do anything to make him happy.

The opportunity to fulfill his fantasy first came to me while we were on vacation in Mexico. We were staying at an all-inclusive resort and really taking advantage of all of the "inclusives." One evening, after a day of swimming and a nice dinner we were enjoying a night cap in the lobby bar. We had both had a few too many tequilas, when we started looking around the room at the prospects. I have to say, I really had no intention of actually going through with anything, but we were both having fun and getting really hot.

There were quite a few good looking men around us I was drawing their attention as well. I've got a very innocent face, most people would guess that I am around 26, but I'm actually 33. I have bright green eyes and a huge smile. I'm of average height, but have an incredible hour-glass figure and large round breasts. With my shoulder length auburn hair, I can turn a few heads when I set my mind to it. 

The waiters had brought a few more rounds of drinks to our table and I knew I would feel them as soon as I tried to stand up. By this time, we were past excited, the look in my husband's eye told me it was time to retire to our room for the evening's activities. 

We walked fairly quickly towards our villa when I realized I had forgotten my camera at the bar. It was a present from Luke, one of those really nice digital ones that can record movies as well. I told him to go ahead back to the room and I hurried back to the bar to get my camera.

When I got to the bar, I noticed a very attractive man sitting at what had been our table. I had noticed him earlier in the evening with a large group of people. In fact, I had seen him in a number of places around the resort during the week. I saw my camera sitting there, so I went to him and explained that I had forgotten it. I showed him some pictures of myself at the beach from earlier in the day to prove that it was indeed my camera. He smiled at me and asked if I would join him for a drink. 

Luke was probably in the shower, I had a bit of time so I sat down. I mean really, what's one more drink. We got to talking and he mentioned that he had seen me around as well. One drink led to another, then another. 

Thinking that Luke might be getting worried, I looked towards the entrance to the lobby and there he was sitting in the shadows watching us. He smiled at me, then got up and walked back towards our room. I have no idea how long Luke had been watching us, but it was fairly obvious to anyone looking that this man was interested in me. With Luke's apparent approval of the situation, the thought of what may happen really had me turned on. As expected, the man soon asked me to join him in his room. With only a little trepidation, I said that I'd love to. He grabbed my camera for me and I followed him.

Once we got to his room, I quickly ducked into the washroom to freshen up a bit. When I came out the lights were dimmed and music from the lobby could be heard through the open balcony door. His room was smaller than ours and didn't have a sitting room, so the prominent piece of furniture was the bed. I sat on it and he handed me a drink from the mini bar. 

The time for small talk had passed; he quickly helped me out of my clothes and then took his off as well. I took one look at his cock and I knew I had to taste it. I took his full nine inches into my mouth, he groaned as he swelled in my mouth. After a good sucking, he lay me down on the bed to return the favour. I came almost instantly. 

Without hesitation, he entered me and gently began to thrust his enormous cock in and out of me. I wanted more of him, so I rolled him over and sat astride him lowering myself onto his throbbing member. I rode him like a wild woman until I could feel him tensing up with the orgasm that was building. Not wanting to lose a drop, I brought him to the edge of the bed and started sucking his cock again. He emptied his load in my mouth and I greedily swallowed it all.

I quickly got dressed and grabbed my camera. That's when I noticed that it was on and recording a movie. He came up behind me and said "I saw your husband watching us at the bar. I thought he might like to see how I fucked you." With a big smile, I thanked him, gave him one last kiss and headed back to my anxiously waiting husband.

I found Luke sitting on the balcony of our room in his boxers. He had a beer in one hand and a Cuban cigar in the other. I quickly set up the camera to play back on the TV then, feeling more than a little adventurous now, I took off my clothes, grabbed another beer from the fridge and joined him. The view from our room was amazing; we were on the third floor looking right out onto the beach. The risk was minimal at this time of night, but if anyone did happen to come walking along the beach they would be able to see right up to our balcony.

Luke turned to me and smiled. "Well, what have you been up to?" He asked. 

I went to him and gave him a long kiss. "Take a look at the TV, there's a present for you." I had turned the TV so that it could be seen from where he was sitting.

Luke looked at the TV then groaned and pulled me onto his lap. I could feel his erection straining through his boxers, so I removed them and knelt in front of him. "First I did this..."



The Things in the Closet



Clutter. 

My skeletons make for nothing but clutter. I
have so many skeletons in my closet, that
you might mistake it for a cemetery. The
bones buried there are generally hard, and
I have touched each one individually,
fingered each one languidly. There is no
flesh to be found in this fantasy, so sorry
Mr. Idol. I have been a slave, a pristine
daughter, a virgin and a goddess. I have
played a bitch, the four legged variety, and
howled on command. I have been a
cheerleader in bed, though I never was
good enough to make it onto the team in high school. 

Bones. Nothing but bones. 

I have a lover. We are monogamous. He thinks he knows everything about me, my life and my sexual escapades. He loves that I have tasted other women. He is encouraged that I am prone to spontaneous roleplay. He feigns embarrassment when I start to dance erotically on a busy street. Later, he will fuck me, telling me how hot I looked doing what supposedly brought him so much shame. It is part of the hypocrisy that is so distinctly male. Don't wear red lipstick, baby...that's for whores. Yet every model he downloads online licks the tip of her own nipple through distinctly red lips. I like you without makeup, baby. You don't need to wear such a short skirt, baby. 

Translation: I don't want other men looking at you, the way I look at their women. 

Back to my closet. 

I have had well over three hundred lovers. He knows about fifty or so. We have had the "so how many have you had" talk that all lovers are prone to now and then. He feels cheap and sleazy with regard to the eleven he has tagged in his tender twenty-six years. I have accumulated two hundred in one single year. 1985. What an amazing year. If it had a pulse, I fucked it. Man, woman, beast. It didn't matter. If I could have combined the efforts of each one of these species into one huge fuckfest, I would have. 

I cringe writing these words. 

One person in my life knows about my closet. He is my ex-husband, and a large part of that closet. He has rummaged through it, and been horrified by it for the most part. Out of love, once upon a time, he closed and barricaded the door, so that nothing accidentally spilled out at inopportune times. Once we divorced, however, he ripped the door open and laid the contents on the table, much to the delight of his lawyers. Bones everywhere, with no meat on them for the sharks. You can't penalize someone for having a past, except in our legal system. According to some, justice is blind. This is not so when your bones are on the table and custody of your kids are given to one of the skeletons. The hypocrisy once again. So I fucked a lot. Sue me. 

He did. He won. 

I am amazed at how I have accumulated these bones without dying of the diseases that come, when they come. I made it through the STD era. I made it through the AIDS era. I was not entirely unscathed. I had two abortions. Those tiny skeletons are buried in another part of the closet. One I refuse to open, one I refuse to remember. The bones of their fathers are buried in there as well. One father I didn't know. The only time we spoke was at his arraignment. He was my rapist, though, I consider him nothing more than just another lover. I was with him longer that night than most of my one night stands. It shames me to know that while he was violent and demanding, to me he was nothing more than a roleplay gone awry. He cut my "cunt" open with a beer bottle and left me on the side of a road to bleed. 

I've had lovers do more damage to me with their words. 

The other father of a set of baby bones was a lover I coveted. He was a vampire, metaphorically. He sucked me dry in every fashion someone can suck the life from a person. He drained my blood, because he was kinky. He drained my emotions, because he was an emotional cripple himself. He drained me financially, because he was a leech. He drained me physically, because he fucked me until I would laugh and cry simultaneously. I told him I was pregnant about nine months into our lust-fest. He told me to purge myself of the "bag of cells" within me. 

It was the first time I ever considered killing myself. 

I did a quick inventory of my closet around that time. There was no room for my own bones in there. I couldn't make them fit if I tried to. I opted not to kill myself, but the progeny within and with it, my relationship with its sire. I wrote a poem about it, and he read it matter of factly. He laid it down alongside his crypt and fucked me non-chalantly. He smelled like stale cigarettes to me. It disgusted me, and I gathered my things and left him. The image never left me. He is married now to a rotund little girl he met online and who enjoys playing Holly Homemaker with him, while he skulks the nightclubs of N.Y.C. looking for a new freak to replace me. He calls once in awhile. At least I know I am not easily replicated. I hear the lock on my closet door rattle. I hang up the phone before the door bursts open. 

I have a lover now who thinks he knows me. 

When we make love, I would swear it was my first time. I am in love with him, but he is not in love with me. He likes me to tell him about the things, the people, I have done in my life. I keep the count under fifty. I repeat stories over and over again that I have told him before, lest he think I have many new ones still in the library. He doesn't like me to use the phrase "make love", but is aghast when I suggest we fuck. He keeps me intrigued continuously, because he is like having several men in one. Or, perhaps he keeps me intrigued because I am now in my mid-thirties. Opportunities to screw younger men don't come along consistently now the way they once did. He doesn't give head, but doesn't mind me doing it to him several times a week. In fear of losing this thing I have found, I pretend to be satiated by that. Sometimes, I pretend that I don't think he is selfish. Sometimes I want to push his head down there and demand it. Sometimes, I want to tell him that I have had the tongues of three men on my clit simultaneously. I'm not brave enough to tell him this story. 

Sometimes, I wish my closet door would burst open and save me the trouble.



The Things Inside Our Hearts



On October 27, 2002 the Los Angeles Times reported the creation of a new force in the War against Terror. Its name was the Proactive Pre-emptive Operations Group, otherwise known as P20G. Allegedly, its sole purpose was to provoke terror cells into action, and then swoop down on them with almost split second timing just moments before they committed an atrocity. Unsurprisingly, once the outcry caused by the initial report subsided, very little was heard of P20G again. This story is a work of fiction and all the characters and events portrayed are figments of my overactive imagination. But as this short introduction suggests, it's grounded in a very real what-if. If you are looking for a quick fill of gratuitous lesbian sex, then I'm afraid that this isn't the story for you. If, however, you haven't been put off by the political overtones and prefer erotic stories to climax with the plot, then it may be worth reading on.

Thirty years of dust had blown through the ancient city since Carrie's last visit, but the scene unfolding beneath her office window was virtually unchanged. Market day - and the sunbaked street was a writhing mass of people, swarming between the ramshackle stalls, bartering, arguing, bargaining, buying, selling and battling just for survival in a world that that had been poised on the trigger for longer than Carrie cared to remember.

Despite her sealed and secure environment, the greying woman could smell the spices and hear the babble of foreign tongues. The sensations were just as real as the empty baskets of bread, the old lady selling tea and hashish and the faded yet colourful displays of cherries, okra, dates, lentils and what Carrie would always remember as the sweetest and most succulent peaches in the world. She had no need to be there in the shunt and shove – she had lived this scene in her dreams and in her nightmares, thousands of miles from its source. 

"Ms Morgan?"

Carrie turned through three lonely decades to see the tired figure of her boss standing in the doorway behind her. David Forster was a man in his early sixties, and the model English diplomat – white-haired, dignified and although charming by default of his chosen profession, completely divorced from his own emotions. Today, however, he seemed rattled.

"I'm afraid I have a little paperwork that requires your attention." He made some attempt at an apologetic smile, but Carrie detected the note of tension in his voice. He handed her some papers, his displeasure apparently growing by the second. "Some damned idiot has been stirring things up. Going around like the bloody village gossip – a man, too - and claiming all manner of things!"

Carrie raised an eyebrow. "Another deportation?"

"Certainly. No two ways about it. We can't have people like that blackening the name of the UK nor of our allies in the States. He has to go - and the sooner the better. I'm recommending that that he's detained at Her Majesty's pleasure the second he touches down at Heathrow. Things are difficult enough for us as it is, without wild and founded claims that Intelligence is playing cat and mouse with terrorists!"

Carrie scrutinised the forms while she gathered her thoughts. She'd been just a month in a job that she'd beaten all odds to get. Female, working class, and a lesbian – about as far from the average Foreign Office employee as you could go – but her spark of intelligence, along with a gritty determination had shattered the glass ceiling that deterred most from even applying. 

"Does this need to be done today, Sir?" Carrie shot a furtive glance at the clock. It was approaching two – her normal clocking off time. Visas, passports, work permits and even the arrangements for extravagant business dinners were a dawdle compared to deportations. Even in a best-case scenario it would be impossible to get through the mountain of forms in under an hour. 

"Absolutely, my dear. This kind of lie does nothing apart from put innocent lives in danger. We need to move quickly and, unfortunate as it may seem – to all of us – you are the crucial link in the chain."

Carrie ran her fingers through her tussled hair. It was a gesture that she always resorted to whenever she felt uncomfortable or cornered in any kind of way. There were times, such as this, when she suffocated under the unquestioning obedience her job demanded. By nature she was a questioning person, and always had been. It had served her well during the rigours of her Cambridge education, earning her a coveted double first in Politics and International Relations. But here, at the hub of world co-operation, her questions weren't just redundant – they had the potential to explode in her face.

What she really wanted to know was why someone would say such a thing. Why would someone go to the effort of concocting such a slanderous rumour when the odds were so clearly stacked against him? Was it simply a wild story, or did this person genuinely believe that Intelligence would resort to such dangerous tactics? If so, why? There was rarely any smoke without fire, and the more Carrie weighed up the situation, the more she felt that this was a person who should perhaps be listened to rather than whisked away and silenced.

Forster was still in the doorway, his dark suit blocking the sunlight from the hallway behind him. He was waiting, once again giving the impression that he disapproved of Carrie's being there. He was what you might call 'old school', and Carrie was one of only a handful of females who'd even set foot in the building, let alone played an active business role. This was just another test – a test to see if she'd go the extra mile. While any male employee would have baulked at the suggestion and carried on with his career unhindered, Carrie knew that her refusal would be added to a growing list of reasons for her dismissal. 

She was about to open her mouth to reply, when she heard a couple of sharp cracks followed by a volley of heavy gunshots ripping through the air. Loud screams provided the finale – bloodcurdling ones that were audible even through the reinforced glass. Startled, Carrie dived for cover. Forster, on the other hand, took the interruption in his stride and strolled over to the window to get a better look. 

"Bloody idiots!" he spat as he peered through the glass. "Acting like children in a school dinner queue! When will they realise that their aggression is just going to bring them more trouble?"

Carrie rose shakily to her feet and edged slowly towards the window. The marketplace was emptying fast. At one end stood a handful of peacekeepers, guns raised and advancing on the dissipating crowd. Slowly a wide rift was opening in the middle of the street – empty apart from the three that had been left behind forever. Carrie wasn't so much horrified as numbed to her very core. It had happened so quickly. Three lives – gone, in a matter of seconds. Thankfully she was too far away to see the details. They might have been the ones who started the scuffle, but as Carrie peered harder she became painfully aware that one of the bodies lying mangled across the worn cobbles was considerably smaller than the others. 

A wave of nausea washed over her as her heart pounded through her chest. While the silence crept by she simply stood there, feeling the blood drain from her face as small streams of the same substance trickled through the dusty street. It was as though the entire scene had been left hanging by a horrible moment.

Forster seemed barely affected by the event. "So there we have it," he commented after an awkward silence, "This is what happens when people act in an irrational way – lives are lost."

Battling against the brimming tears, Carrie stood stock still as Forster lowered the blind.

"Not to worry, Ms Morgan - these things happen, and, no doubt, will continue to happen for a very long time. It's the nature of the world- especially this particular corner. But of course, you did all your homework before applying for the job, so it should come as that much of a surprise." There was a faint sneer to Forster's voice that made Carrie's heart pound harder. She had surprised him during the intense interview process, and it was something he'd never quite been able to forgive her for. At the time there had been three other candidates, all male, yet Carrie's knowledge of the area and its history, as well as her sparkling academic record, had made her the only choice for the vacant post. 

"Don't worry – everyone gets used to it sooner or later. It just takes a degree of acceptance, that's all. Nobody can change the world overnight, and more often than not it can't be changed at all. You see, that's the difference between men and women – the level of expectation. I've seen many a woman pack up and leave overnight. Men tend to realise that the darkest hour is before dawn, and stick things out. Not to be helped, though." He flashed Carrie his most unconvincing diplomatic smile, but her eyes were locked on the ground, burning with rage and utter frustration. 

Forster gave a dry cough and made for his exit. "I'll have those documents on my desk by first thing tomorrow morning, if you don't mind, Ms Morgan. Time is of the essence." And with that he breezed out of the room, leaving Carrie to pick up the pieces of her shattered innocence.

Two hours later the troubled young woman was still ticking mindless boxes and completing forms in triplicate. With every word she wrote the event that she'd just witnessed came flashing back, over and over again until her nerves became raw from the trauma. By the time she finished with the details, the mid-day call to prayer had long wailed out and the streets were empty of people.

She stepped out of the air-conditioned building into a furnace - the strong afternoon sun beating down on the tightly-packed buildings and radiating back from the streets. No one, not even a seasoned veteran like her boss, could ever get used to heat like this. It was too thick, too intense and absolutely suffocating. Carrie's hotel room lay just three blocks away, but for the exertion it took under these conditions, it may as well have been a million miles. Prickly from the both the heat and the afternoon carnage, Carrie found herself cursing her decision to walk to work that day.

Her only blessing was the fact that most of the local men would be busy with the Salatu-z-Zuhr for the next couple of hours. Had she wanted to, she could have streaked down the alleyways naked without fear of repercussion. Instead she settled for the removal of her stifling headscarf and allowing her hair to blow in the fragile breeze. Despite Carrie's qualifications, the expectation that women should cover their heads was something she'd never been able to understand. It was always argued that the headscarf, the hijab, the jilbab and even the all-encompassing burqua were there to protect women from marauding males. But why was it that the women had to hide themselves when a small degree of self-restraint on part of the males was the nicer and more obvious option? 

As Carrie pondered over the issue, the exhaustion set slowly in. Her resolution to get home was fading. It wasn't just the walk – it was more a feeling of guilt at having so much, while those around her had so little. Like the other embassy workers, Carrie was stationed in a plush room at the Sheraton. She had access to cable TV, running water, electricity, a comfortable bed and all the food she could eat, both from the restaurants downstairs and an extensive room service menu. To some it might have seemed like a holiday, but for Carrie it was becoming more like a prison sentence by the day. 

Back home she would have stopped for a drink, or an ice cream, or even whiled away a couple of idle minutes on a nearby bench. But here, she was yet to work up the courage. It was a male-dominated society – far more extreme than the one Carrie had come from – and although she lived by the dictum that persistence was the key, she was wise enough to know when stubbornness wasn't enough.

This was one of the reasons why she usually drove to her workplace. Even with her head covered, Carrie was an obvious target for the sex-starved male population, who rarely saw western women, least of all pale-skinned, blonde-haired ones like herself. No matter where she went it was always to an accompaniment of catcalls and wolf whistles – not dissimilar to spending her life beside a building site. Today with its perfect calm and solitude was a beautiful, unusual exception, but Carrie was struggling to enjoy it.

Her mouth parched and her head beginning to throb, she leaned up against a stone pillar and rested her face against its cool surface. The wind had died down, leaving behind it an air that was heavy and unmoving. In the distance dark clouds were visible, gathering at a slow pace and beginning to blot the horizon. The storm was still some way off, but in the silent streets the rumbles were easy to identify.

"Hey." A voice rang out from a nearby doorway, causing Carrie to look up, slightly puzzled. It was a woman's voice - soft, slightly husky and alluring as crushed velvet. She turned towards the sound.

"Why don't you come in? You look exhausted." The person who'd spoken was a striking woman somewhere in her late twenties. She had long dark hair that seemed almost Arabic in its sleekness; but despite the golden tan, her sea green eyes and defined cheekbones pointed towards an unmistakably western heritage. 

"Well?" A seductive smile played around the corners of the woman's scarlet lips.

Carrie stirred a little from her spell. The stranger spoke perfect English, but her words had a lovely foreign lilt that captivated the young Brit from the outset. Her eyes glittered as she spoke, and with each word that was uttered the slight blush beneath her cheekbones intensified. Carrie gazed, finding the smile infectious. The deep stonewall building was bound to be a cool refuge from the heat, but what Carrie was drawn to wasn't its darkened doorway or even what lay beyond it – it was the woman who stood in the centre, dressed casually in blue jeans and a loose white shirt, leaning against the frame without a care in the world.

Not needing to think twice, Carrie stepped inside and waited for her eyes to adjust to the dim glow. She was in a coffee house - empty apart from a heavily shrouded woman inside the booth, who was too busy shining glasses to even notice her only customers of the afternoon.

Carrie had seen such places before, but never experienced them in person. In fact most of her knowledge of the Arab world came from picture books and documentaries – all because of the simple fact that as a woman, she was excluded from most places. At work and at home the only places out of bounds to her were board rooms and the occasional men's club. Here it was pretty much everywhere, and there were times when Carrie felt she'd choke from the limitations of her two-dimensional knowledge. 

The first thing to strike her about her new surroundings was the unfamiliar smell – a combination of stale tobacco smoke, strong coffee, wood polish and the musky smell of many males gathered over long periods of time. Several water pipes lay curled like dormant snakes in corners of the room, and Carrie eyed them warily as though they were likely to strike out at any given moment. She was somewhere that she shouldn't have been, and the longer she stood there the more she found herself enjoying the experience.

"Is this your first time?" asked the woman, intrigued by Carrie's reaction.

"Yes."

"It's really something, isn't it? You can quite understand how the men like to come here when they have a spare moment. Although it really is much more pleasant without them here, don't you think?" She gave a mischievous wink as Carrie glanced back, and smiled as the exhausted blonde processed the signals she was sending.

"By the way – I am Nell." The woman extended a hand and Carrie reached out to take it. She was about to introduce herself when their skin made contact and Carrie felt a tingle down her spine. 

Struggling to compose herself she held onto the soft hand for as long as she could, releasing it only when she became embarrassed about the sweat oozing from her own palms. She glanced nervously at Nell, but was unable to maintain eye-contact for longer than a second. It was too intense – and too real. It had happened quickly. Just a minute ago she'd been cursing her own existence; now her entire existence seemed a build-up to this very moment.

It was a while before Carrie summoned the nerve to say who she was. And even then, she made it as brief as possible. She was edgy – uncomfortable with the feelings that were building up inside her. She had always been cautious when it came to her feelings. She'd been hurt enough times to distinguish between admiration, lust and the all-powerful "L" word. Somehow, though, Nell seemed different, and in more ways than one. It could have been her appearance, or it could have been the graceful way in which she moved. It might even have been the voice that had called Carrie in from the heat and seduced her in a matter of seconds. Whatever the reason, Carrie was visibly captivated. 

"It's always nice to meet another western woman," mused Nell, blushing slightly under Carrie's gaze. "We've had rather a drought recently - ever since the violence has escalated. Now all the corporations, aid agencies and foreign offices around the world seem to be keeping their women at home. It's crazy." She shook her head, her mind evidently far away. "Especially when a woman's touch is what this part of the world needs more than anything else. Can I get you something to eat or drink?"

A woman's touch… Carrie was in a suggestible state where couldn't fail to be affected by Nell's choice of words. A woman's touch was also what she wanted – and needed – every bit as much as her environment. Still in a daze she nodded – "That would be great. Do you think they serve ice cream here?"

Nell gave a chuckle of amusement. "You really haven't been in the country very long, have you? They do have ice cream, and I am told that it is very good – but I really wouldn't advise it."

"Why not?"

"I don't know if you have ever noticed, but the electricity supply is such that it gets turned off at night to save resources. Where are you staying, Carrie?" 

"At the Sheraton – in the Green Belt."

Nell nodded and then lowered the tone of her voice as if she were imparting a state secret - "The power grid is a mess. Of course, you won't notice because the large hotels for the foreign workers all have big generators. But for the rest of this God-forsaken place… it doesn't matter how many American firms are being contracted to make repairs and then boast about how well they are doing – the fact is, it would need an absolute miracle to get this country running smoothly on the funds that our governments is giving."

"So how does that affect the ice cream?" The answer was obvious, but Carrie was so busy hanging on to every word of the attractive brunette that the logistics flew straight over her head.

"When there is no electricity, there is no electricity to keep the freezers running, and soon everything is melting. Many people store meat in their freezers right next to the ice cream that you so desperately want now. I'd really advise against it, darling. Can I get you something else?" 

Carrie racked her muddied brains, but was too engrossed with other matters to come up with another option. Sensing her indecision, Nell walked over to the booth and released a few words of flawless Arabic. The woman serving immediately stopped what she was doing and poured out two tall glasses of a thick grey liquid. Nell paid and then returned to Carrie, who was still standing totally transfixed.




The Things Inside Our Hearts



"Have you ever tried doogh before?" Nell placed both glasses on a nearby table and gestured for Carrie to take a seat.

"No," replied Carrie dubiously. "Have I been missing out?"

Nell scrutinised her seriously, and looked set to deliver another explanation of local life, but at the crucial moment her expression softened and a warm smile broke out across her full lips. "Probably not." She suppressed a giggle - "There are times when I can't imagine how anyone could miss out on anything to do with this country, except… well.... But try it – it is made of yoghurt and it's supposed to be good when you are thirsty." 

Never one to shy away from the unfamiliar, Carrie raised the glass to her lips and took a small, cautious sip. It was a fruit-flavoured drink - smooth, sweet, creamy and slightly fizzy, like an ice cream float that had gone slightly rancid. Its one saving grace was that it was indeed thirst quenching, but for all Carrie cared it could have consisted of anything because her attention was now fixed firmly on the beautiful enigma sitting before her. 

As a person, Nell was utterly unplaceable. Her skin was smooth and gave the impression of being a person who'd never done a hard day's work. She wore several silver rings on each hand, as well as an expensive-looking pair of studs in her ears. But as her eyes grew accustomed to the light, Carrie couldn't help but notice the dark, barely perceptible shadows beneath her eyes. Her neck was long and almost swan-like in its elegance, and as Carrie's eyes moved down it, she drank in every gentle contour of the woman's bronzed skin. Around her neck was a silver cross, and beyond that a gentle dip where her collar bones met. Now unable to stop herself, Carrie's eyes roamed lower. She was now gazing directly at the firm curves of Nell's breasts, imagining how they would feel and how they would taste should she have half the chance to experience them; and it was with these thoughts in mind that Carrie lost herself for a few seconds, not realising what she was doing until she heard the woman clear her throat slightly. 


Appalled by her actions, Carrie looked up quickly and blushed under Nell's steady gaze.

"So where do you come from?" she blustered after an awkward silence. "I couldn't quite work out from your accent…"

Nell smiled and leaned back in her chair like she didn't have a worry in the world. "I am from the Netherlands – and I'm the only Dutch person in the country, if you must know. What about you?"

"UK."

The statement seemed to confuse Nell. Carrie watched her eyebrows knit together and then rise as she processed this new piece of information - "But you don't sound like any of the British workers I have met."

"That's probably because I'm not," ventured Carrie. "I don't come from the same background – geographically or socially – and I guess it shows. I probably shouldn't even be here…" The disenchantment of her situation bit in hard once again, and Carrie's voice trailed off.

In a sudden wave of compassion, Nell reached out to take Carrie's hand. "Hey, nothing happens unless there is a reason," she said softly. "The world often has a strange way of working things out. For example - if you weren't here then maybe we'd never meet."

Carrie didn't answer. She was trying hard not to read between the lines, but the feeling she got from this woman's touch was truly breathtaking. 

"So what do you do here?" she asked after an awkward pause.

"Well, I always used to think of myself as a humanitarian worker," began Nell.

"But?"

Nell glanced sadly towards the door. "But not so much anymore. Times change. I do my best, but it's very difficult, especially when I don't even work for my own country."

Carrie sensed that she was treading on dangerous ground, but was drawn to the topic like a moth to the flame and felt an endless supply of questions burning inside her. Eventually she settled on just one - "Which government do you work for then?" 

Nell looked away. "In this day and age I don't think it matters anymore. On one side there are the Haves and on the other, the Have Nots. I work for a Have. Which particular one is quite beside the point. They are all horribly similar and they do as little as they can to make the world a better place."

A strange expression flashed across Nell's eyes, its intensity causing Carrie to catch her breath. She thought back to her day at work – to the conversation with Forster and the knee-jerk deportation order. Nell was playing a dangerous game and Carrie felt honour-bound to warn her about it. As the young woman spoke, Nell reached in her bag for a packet of cigarettes, and lit one, blowing a plume of blue smoke into the shadowy room, before holding out the packet by way of an offer.

"No thanks, Nell. I gave up last week." 

Undeterred Carrie continued to draw on her cigarette, taking her time to formulate the words, her mind evidently a million miles away.

"Forget your job, Carrie," she began, blowing out a thin stream of smoke. "Forget saying yes to things you don't agree with, and look at the situation as a person. Who are we when we cannot say the things inside our hearts?"

Carrie shook her head, knowing that what the Dutchwoman said was true. Whatever spin the media put on it, the facts were there as clear as day. Despite a new era of democracy within the country, the lifting of sanctions and the steady rebuilding of its ruined cities, the terrorist cells were still alive and kicking – just like the grinding poverty. The two went together like a hand in a glove and now, in this supposed time of peace, the situation was just as dangerous as it had ever been.

"What do you think, Carrie? If this man's idea is so crazy and totally removed from the truth, why do we want to lock him up and stop anyone else from hearing about it? A little extreme, don't you think?"

"I don't know… It's common practice these days."

"But are you happy that it is common practice? Think about it, Carrie. Freedom – the thing that's waved like a carrot in front of our donkey noses. But who has taken away the most during the last few years? The people who commit the atrocities, or the people who claim to be preventing them?" She paused, her eyes glittering with intensity, then lowered her voice – "If you ask me, they're all as bad as each other. All I'm saying is that you should just think about it. Maybe not accept things so quickly. There's nothing wrong with being different – and regardless of what anybody says, there's nothing wrong with asking questions. At the end of the day when everything is said and done, questions are the things that keep us human. Don't lose that part of yourself, Carrie." 

"What exactly do you do, Nell?" asked Carrie after a loaded silence.

"I don't suppose that you have heard of P20G?"

"No."

"Give it time. You will, Maybe not today, or tomorrow, or next month or even next year, but you will and I doubt very much whether you will be so happy to have known me and to have sat and shared a drink with me."

Carrie hesitated, and the silence reached a crescendo. For as long as she could remember, she had always had an aversion to secret organisations and agendas. Her choice of career had in itself been a last ditch effort to reconcile herself with the idea of a fair world – and already the dream was fading fast. She caught Nell's eye and a spark of something flashed between them. Under normal circumstances the veiled revelation would have propelled Carrie straight back out through the door, but like herself, Nell was different, and what had passed between them was the spark of two kindred spirits seeing each other for the very first time. 

The realisation coursed through Carrie's veins like a powerful drug, and without quite knowing why she began to crave this woman's touch even more than before. Her mind became fixated on the moment when their fingers had made contact – the softness and the electricity - but this time, inappropriate as it was, she felt a trickle of wetness escaping out into her panties.

"Are you ok, Carrie?" frowned Nell. "You're quiet."

"I'm fine. Just… thinking." Carrie ran her fingers through her hair, dislodging a couple of tangles in the process as her eye fell by chance into Nell's lap and the ripple of creases that led her to the point where the fabric met. The rush of pleasure, however, was fleeting. Carrie dared not lead herself any further in that direction. Her face had always been a window to her thoughts, and at this moment in time they were thoughts that were better kept to herself than shared. She needed a decoy and as she raised her eyes to a brightly-coloured painting above Nell's head, she saw her opportunity. 

It was a picture of a woman - bold, naked, voluptuous and oozing temptation as her scarlet lips closed around a ripe peach. For a culture that preferred to keep its women shrouded the level of detail was awesome - from the semi-erect nipples to the way the shaved pussy glinted with the faintest hint of moisture gathering around its smooth velvet edges. Caught in her own erotic spell, she seemed oblivious to the cataclysmic scenes unfolding around her – the flowers dying, the bolts of lightning that came crashing from the sky and birds that fell to the ground like pieces of burnt paper. At the lower right hand corner of the painting were three half-starved men, crawling through the destruction and flailing towards the Venus-like figure with expressions of terror twisting their faces. 

Startled, Carrie directed her gaze back towards Nell. "What's that about?" 

Nell shot a glance over her left shoulder and surveyed the painting in question. "As for those of your women who are guilty of lewdness, call to witness four of you against them. And if they testify to the truth of the allegation then confine them to the houses until death take them or Allah appoint for them a way. It's from the Book of Women. As you can see there are only three men in the painting. The fourth is yet to come, and in the meantime… well, as you can see – the entire world begins to die. The theme isn't unusual – even in our own culture. Most people interpret it as a reminder of woman's evil, but I think I like to see it as a testimony to their power. If you look closely, you'll see that it is on the men's side of the picture that the flowers are dying."

Carrie gave the painting another cursory scan, but before she could realise it her eyes were on Nell's breasts again, watching as they heaved and relaxed in a rhythm that all but hypnotised her. 

"Carrie," said Nell in a half whisper, "I know I said that there weren't many things to miss out on in this country, but there is one – a place..." She suddenly looked uncertain of herself – "I'd like to take you there."

It would have made no difference had Nell invited her to the burning pits of hell, as Carrie was in the grip of the most powerful crush she had ever experienced, and the offer to spend that much more time in the company of this enigmatic beauty had come like a gift. "When? Now?"

"Well, I suppose there is no time like the present. Do you have the time?"

"I have all day – and all night." Carrie had added the last comment in complete innocence, but the implications weren't lost on either of the women, who both started to blush. "How far is it?" asked Carrie quickly.

"About thirty miles – up in the mountains - but it really is worth it."

They smiled at each other, and without the need for further words an agreement was reached.

Nell had parked down a shady back alley just behind the coffee house. As with most of the foreign-owned cars, hers was an air-conditioned jeep with tinted windows and a strong enough suspension to withstand the ruts and potholes that littered the roads of the region.

By now the sky was ablaze with a stormy sunset. Streaks of pink, orange and a deep purple ran across the western landscape, but around them hovered dark clouds, closing in on the embers of the day with quiet menace. With the slow-moving winds it seemed unlikely that the weather would break until much later on that night, but in this light the bold red paintwork of Nell's car took on an eerie glow that unsettled the young Brit far more than the prospect of any coming storm. 

Somehow Carrie had never expected her new friend to drive around in one of the more common muted shades. She was a woman who demanded acceptance for who she was - too independent and far too free to conform to any expectation. It was what Carrie admired most about her – although the accompanying risks were about to speak for themselves. 

Carrie's eye hadn't been the only one to be caught by the bright scarlet of the car. Around it lounged a small group of men, three in all, leaning against the hot panels as they smoked cheap cigarettes and jeered at the approaching women. Carrie froze and remembered with horror that her head was still uncovered. At this time of day it was only inevitable that they'd come across some of the locals, but in the presence of her beautiful new friend, Carrie had forgotten everything. Nell, on the other hand, hadn't so much forgotten as simply stopped caring. 

"Let me deal with this," she said, placing a hand on the Carrie's shoulder while she slipped on a pair of sunglasses and approached the predatory group. Carrie watched, holding her breath. Her heart was now pounding so hard that she half expected her ribcage to shatter from the heavy force. Running away would have been the sensible option, but somehow the total self-assurance of Nell was proving something of an inspiration and Carrie decided to stand her ground. 

In the long-run their diplomatic immunity was ample protection from the sound lashing dictated by religious law. But that was assuming that the men didn't decide to execute their own brand of punishment in the meantime. It wasn't unheard of and had a reputation for being more severe than anything a prayer book could produce to placate the wrath of the gods.

Carrie watched with some relief as two of the men moved away, taken completely aback by the spirit of the advancing Dutchwoman. The third, however, proved more defiant and didn't so much as blink as he stubbed his cigarette onto the gleaming paintwork of the car. 

"Hey there, Yankee woman!" he leered, "How much you charge?" Nell ignored him and continued her approach. "Hey! I talk to you! I want to know how much you charge for a big fat dick in your whore's –." He was cut off in his tracks by the realisation that Nell hadn't been deterred by his words. She was now towering over him, all 5ft8 of her, while he shrunk back over the bonnet, aghast that he could have been manoeuvred into such a position of defeat – by a woman.  

"Get off my car," said Nell in a dangerously soft tone. Her adversary looked back at her, stupefied. "I said get off my car! Are you deaf or do you want me to pick you up and throw you off!"

The other men laughed. They were backing off slowly, and secretly enjoying the sight of their loud-mouthed friend having to face the music for once. It was an interesting situation, but judging by their movements, not one in which they wished to play any further part. 

The ringleader had woefully underestimated the tenacity of the dark-haired temptress, and looked as though he'd swallowed a wasp. "Whore!" he growled, his jaw muscles clenching as his hands began to tighten into fists. He was about to explode, and Nell was standing directly in the line of fire. Another deep rumble tore from the skies and reverberated around the small courtyard while Carrie held her breath. Several seconds later a bolt of lightning forked across the sky, sinking one of its white-hot prongs into a distant point of the horizon. It was at this moment that the man made his move. 

In the time it took for the flash to appear and fade, he sprang from the car like a puma. A blocked right hook, a blocked left hook, a failed grapple and a kick that saw him arc into the air and land with a thud on the concrete. The jaws of the other men dropped. Nell wasn't even out of breath. A faint flush of anger across her cheeks, but aside from that nothing at all to suggest she'd been in any physical encounter. 

Spitting a mouthful of bloodstained spit into the dust the ringleader got to his feet, dusted himself off and then launched himself at Nell one more time. This time he was floored by a blow that sent an instant stream of blood gushing from his nose. He got to his feet, less steady this time, clutching his face with both hands and muttering guttural Arabic curses. His friends were already gone, terrified by the devil woman whose courage and strength had exceeded that of any man they'd ever known. 

Nell waited for her limping assailant to disappear around the corner, before brushing the ash off her car and disabling the central lock.

"Well?" she asked, turning to face her only remaining spectator, "Are you going to get in, or would you prefer to run behind the vehicle?"

Carrie walked towards the car in a stunned silence, and got in at the passenger side, careful not to slam the door, drop crumbs on the seat, or do anything else that might incur the wrath of this feisty woman. For the first few seconds neither of them said a word. Nell was tight-lipped and clearly still annoyed about what had just passed, Carrie, on the other hand, felt it better to maintain the silence until things had simmered down.

"That was pretty impressive," she said once the car had pulled out on the main street. "Is that kind of thing part of your work?"

"Part of my life, yes; part of my work, no. We live in a technological age, but as you can see it is always useful for a woman to know how to defend herself when the time comes." 

Carrie nodded, her mind still reeling from this woman's display. "I noticed you can speak Arabic, too."

"I can."

"And I suppose that's part of your work?"

"I speak several languages, Carrie, and they're not all work-related. I enjoy studying, that's all."

Carrie sensed that it was time to switch the topic to something that didn't involve fulfilling her own burning curiosity, but struggled to come up with anything different.

"So I have let most of my skeletons out of the closet. What do you do for a job, Carrie?" asked Nell as soon as the silence grew embarrassing.

"I'm at the embassy."

"I see. And how do you find it?"

"Truthfully? I don't know…" Carrie searched for the words. "It's not really… me. The whole atmosphere there leaves me cold."

"No friends yet?"

"No." Carrie hung her head in embarrassment. She'd never been what you'd call a social animal, often preferring her own company to that of other people. But in the past there had always been someone to fall back on, a close-knit circle of family and friends who were always there to back her up when the chips were down. Here she had no one, and the loneliness was beginning to bite.

"Then I repeat my earlier comment about being glad that we met. At least I've saved you the agony of death by Middle Eastern ice cream!"

Carrie forgot her self-pity in an instant and found herself laughing at the Nell's dry wit. "So how come the locals aren't dropping like flies if there are so many bugs in the ice cream?"

"Simple, darling. They don't eat it. It's not as popular as it is in other countries. And most of them couldn't afford it. It's a luxury product. I expect you witnessed the peace-keeping triumph at the marketplace today. As you can see, most of the people here are more concerned with making sure that their families don't starve."

"Hence the violence."

"Yes, hence the violence." Nell paused. "These are people who have so little that there is nothing left to lose apart from their own lives. Car bombs, suicide bombs, hijackings. It's all the same – their lives are so wretched that they are easily seduced by promises of the beautiful beyond."




The Things Inside Our Hearts



Carrie sat motionless. Everything that Nell was saying was true. It made sense, but at the same time it made a mockery of the entire system of world politics.

Nell continued – "What I am trying to say is that we approach this in completely the wrong way – maybe the time for guns and patrols is gone. Maybe we should be giving a little more instead of gripping and controlling. I don't know. It makes sense to me, but nobody else seems to see it…" A dreamy look spread across her eyes as they came to a stop at a junction. She seemed resigned – as though her emotional reserves had been slowly drained.

"I do," said Carrie quickly.

Nell glanced over and moved her hand towards the blonde's cheek. "I know you do, darling. You're different, I sensed it right away. But at the moment I'm afraid that you're not in a position to do anything at all about the situation."

"But I might be one day…"

"Carrie, when you become the most beautiful foreign diplomat that this country has ever known…" The Brit was already giggling as Nell pulled out onto a wider road and sent the car bumping over concrete that felt like off-road terrain. "Then I hope you will remember the conversation we had – along with all the potholes, the terrible drivers –" She suddenly leaned on the horn at a beaten-up lancia swerved over the sidewalk. Startled, Carrie grabbed on to Nell's thigh in an unconscious knee-jerk reaction.

The car passed, carrying just an elderly man, his grey hair barely visible above the steering wheel. It was something that was the same the whole world over, and Carrie felt strangely refreshed by the experience. 

Nell was smiling again, and it was quite some time before Carrie realised that her fingers were still wrapped around the woman's thigh. She moved her hand away and felt the blood rushing to her cheeks. "So what languages can you speak other than Dutch, English and Arabic?"

Nell was softening under the sudden interest. Either that or the accidental hand had taken its effect. Slowly the barriers were being lowered and the earlier angst was lifting like morning mist. Despite the surprises, for Carrie it had reached the point where Nell was no longer some unreachable an object of admiration, but a person – and for once the reality was proving to be every bit as good as the fantasy.

"I also speak fluent German," she began, "quite good Russian, Spanish, reasonable Italian, and I'm currently in the process of learning Tagalog."

"Of learning what?"

"Tagalog, darling. It's one of the main languages spoken in the Philippines."

"Well, that's useful…"

Nell started to laugh, "It could be. I have no idea where I could be sent to next. But what about you, Carrie? Tell me about yourself."

Gradually the two women were becoming more and more relaxed in each other's company. They chatted about home, about friends, about family until it felt like they'd known each other for a lifetime. The further out they travelled, the worse the bends in the road became, but still Nell showed no sign of slowing down. 

"Sorry!" she called out as they roared around another corner. "But I'd really like to get there before the sun goes down, if that is possible. I want you to see everything."

"That's assuming that I'm still conscious by the time we get there!"

Nell laughed, intoxicated by the thrill of the ride. Once the car had ribboned free from the dreary city, she leaned even heavier on the gas until Carrie found herself pinned to the seat with her legs trailing ahead of her in the g-force.

They were heading directly for the mountains, travelling higher and higher up the dirt road, and although the vegetation was still sparse it seemed to be thickening with every mile they covered. Nell was right – the further they travelled, the more it felt like they were going to a place completely removed from the rest of the God-forsaken country.

At the sides of the road there were now patches of grass, the distance between each one decreasing all the time, until they merged into a rolling field. Solitary oaks and poplars soon multiplied into miniature forests, and as they rounded another corner Carrie was staggered by the sight of a henna bush, larger than any she'd ever seen and covered with red and white flowers.

For the last few minutes the two women had been travelling in silence. The beauty of the surrounding countryside was just too spectacular to miss through idle chatter. This, however, seemed to demand some kind of response.

"Wow!" breathed Carrie as they sailed past the shrub, "You weren't kidding about this not being a place to be missed!"

"We still have quite a few miles to go," replied Nell, evidently pleased with the reaction of her new friend, "and then you can see for yourself."

"Nell –"

"Yes?"

Carrie had opened her mouth to offer a compliment, but what she found on the tip of her tongue was her heart. It was too soon – too crazy, too much of a whirlwind crush that she had on this dark beauty… She closed her mouth again.

"What is it, darling?"

"Nothing. I was just thinking, that's all."

"Should I offer you a penny, or was your thought worth more than that?" enquired Nell, a playful smile on her lips.

"It was priceless," replied Carrie, suddenly floundering under the realisation of how near she'd come to breaking her rule of restraint when it came to women.

"Would you like to share it?"

Carrie sighed. There wasn't any way out of this situation, and a contradictory little voice inside her head was telling her that this wasn't a bad thing at all. "I was just thinking…" she began, and then suddenly the dams burst, leaving the rest to come gushing out like a waterfall. "Please don't be annoyed with me for saying this if it isn't your thing. I honestly won't mind – it's happened to me so many times before that I don't even feel the stab anymore. But I just wanted you to know - I know I haven't known you long, but so far I've loved every second I got to spend with you. I think you're out of this world."

Nell turned a deep crimson and Carrie instantly regretted what she'd said. But the Dutchwoman's next statement erased that feeling in an instant.

"I don't know what to say, Carrie. I have to tell you that I am only human, just like everybody else, and it's something that we get reminded of on a daily basis in this part of the world. But I appreciate the compliment – especially as it came from you."


"Really?"

"Yes, really. I like you a lot, Carrie – even when you act just like a man and stare straight at my breasts." Nell's eyes were fixed on the road ahead, but she managed a wink as she pulled off the road onto a dirt track and reduced her speed considerably.


Without saying another word, Carrie reached across and took hold of her hand. This time, however, she kept it wrapped up in her own, allowing her fingers to caress, stroke and explore every inch of Nell's skin from her fingertips right to her wrist. At the initial contact the brunette had jumped slightly, but now she was returning the gentle touches with a rhythm that made Carrie glaze over with pleasure.

"We are nearly there now, darling." Carrie felt a squeeze on her hand as the red jeep wove into a shady grove.

"Already?" She stirred as though she'd woken from a deep sleep. She hadn't closed her eyes for a split second, but somehow the landscape had changed beyond recognition. Where there'd previously been grass, there were now flowers as far as the eye could see - sword lilies, carnations, chrysanthemums, tulips, narcissi, lilies of the valley and more other species than Carrie could recognise. In fact, the entire area in which they'd stopped was a sea of colour and scents, and as she wound down the window to breathe in the experience, she was infused with a sense of paradise.

Carrie got out of the car without uttering a single word, the click of the door reverberated around the valley several times over. She listened harder and picked up the sporadic tapping of a woodpecker. A gentle gust brought the sound of rustling leaves, and with each step she took her senses were bombarded with more features of the natural world – more real and more vibrant than anything she'd witnessed for a very long time. She turned back towards the city that they'd come from, but it lay shrouded by dark ugly clouds, which seemed to be holding a flood of Biblical proportions. Not wishing to remind herself of the ongoing tragedy beyond those crumbling walls, Carrie focused again on the setting sun and the glow that came from the embers of a day that had swung from hell to heaven within the space of just a few exhilarating hours. 

"Do you like it?" asked Nell rather shyly.

"It's…" Carrie searched for a word that wasn't trite or inadequate, but nothing came to mind.

"Paradise?" suggested Nell.

"Maybe it is."

"Well, the religious texts had to get their ideas from somewhere."

"You mean –"

"Who knows. Who cares." Nell slipped her arm over Carrie's shoulders. "I have no time for people who spend all their time thinking of good deeds when they could be doing them instead. Come on – the best is yet to come. Are you ok with heights?"

"Not really," replied Carrie truthfully. "I was up on my nan's step-ladder last June and had a touch of the spins."

Nell smiled a little, but was careful not to encourage nor ridicule this little admission of weakness. There were plenty of grown men who would have blanched at the thought of what the Dutch woman had in mind, so in a way it was better that Carrie stayed with the image of her old nan's ladder and enjoyed a couple more moments of sweet oblivion.

Without the need for further conversation the two women made their way through the wood, Carrie resting her head against Nell's shoulder as they followed a path that rose and curved along the edge of the mountain. It was beautiful, but it didn't escape realise that the real beauty of the moment was coming from within – contentment, happiness and more than anything else, a feeling of complete and utter fulfilment.

Eventually, the trees cleared to expose miles of empty sky. They were nearing a small summit. Carrie could hear the empty rush of the air, and although the vanishing sun was partly to blame, the temperature had become noticeably cooler. Soon they came to a stop and Nell turned to face her once more.

"Do you trust me, Carrie?"

"Yes, I do."

"Good. Then you must trust me a few minutes longer, and I promise you that you will not be disappointed." 

Nell moved behind the apprehensive Brit, covered her eyes with both hands and began leading her forwards. After half a minute Carrie knew they must be close to the edge of the path, but still she was guided forward. The grass and bracken had now given way to loose stones, and with the exception of the growls of the distant storm the empty echo was growing by the second.

"Ok…" Nell kept her hands in place, but at last Carrie's blind journey had ended. "I'm going to remove my hands, but you have to trust me, Carrie. I have you. You can't fall. You can't slip – unless you panic and do something stupid. Are you ready to look?"

Carrie nodded. She'd never had a head for heights, but somehow, with this woman as company, she had the feeling of being able to jump from the top of Everest. It was the rush of first love, of invincibility, and suddenly she felt stronger than ever before.

When Nell removed her hands, Carrie found herself looking at the same stretch of sky that she'd seen on their approach - but this time there was considerably less ground beneath her feet. She was on an outcrop, no wider than a couple of feet, and beyond that lay a drop that seemed too far away to be real.

Carrie looked around and gasped. Although not quite among the clouds, the thin wisps certainly weren't that far from the heads of the two women. Carrie moved a foot to steady herself and send a small rock plummeting over the edge. They were far too high to see how it shattered, but the crash reverberated for several seconds, amplified by the rocky slopes.

"Nell…" she began, casting a frightened glance over her shoulder, "Is this safe?"

The brunette now had a hand either side of Carrie's waist, her little fingers resting against the blonde's hips. "Compared to the place we've just come from? Absolutely."

Carrie took a deep, calming breath and slowly found herself enjoying the view. The land before her was lush, green and looked more like a scene from an Alpine postcard than anything the Middle East had to offer. Beyond the stream and the meadows and the eagle that soared and glided along the thermals, Carrie noticed a band of blue.

"What's that?" she asked, pointing towards the distance.

"That, my darling, is the sea. And I'll bet you never realised how close it actually is." Nell rested her chin on Carrie's shoulder, and for a while they stayed in that position, enjoying the closeness and enjoying the warmth. "Just think – across that stretch of water is the rest of the world…"

At this range Carrie could appreciate every subtle detail of her beautiful temptress – the firmness of her breasts, the feather-light stroke of her hair as it blew in the breeze, and the soft scent of her smooth skin, which was drawing the young Brit like a moth to the flame. Without realising what she was doing, Carrie's head began to turn towards the woman. It happened slowly, without even ruffling the cool, still air around them. Soon their cheeks were touching and Carrie found herself gazing deep in those clear green eyes, watching how the pupil dilated and glazed over in what was probably a mirror image of her own. She turned her body, and Nell's hands adjusted accordingly, one snaking around her waist as the other came to rest on her stomach before travelling upwards until its fingers came to rest around her breast. Almost passing out from the pleasure and the eruption of desire, Carrie allowed her nose to graze against Nell's, slowly, lovingly, enjoying every new sensation until, in a moment of pure bliss, their lips found one another.

It was a gentle kiss, but the intensity made Carrie's head spin far more than the height. Nell's lips were soft, probing, persistent and real experts in their art. Tentatively, Carrie pushed her tongue between them. It was taken in an instant, sucked sweetly between the brunette's lips into the soft wetness of her mouth. The fingers traced their way along Carrie's breast, finding her nipple but then sliding back down. 

Even though her feet were on firm ground, Carrie felt as though she were falling – deeper and deeper as the kiss took her out of her body to a place that was deeper still and bathed in waves of pleasure. 

Nature provided the fireworks -just a flash of summer lightning that momentarily lit up the sky. A loud rumble caused the pair of them to jump, and with great reluctance they emerged from the kiss, misty-eyed and breathless.

"I think that we should maybe move from this ledge, darling –" began Nell, but the rest of her sentence was smothered by yet another kiss that would have thrown her off balance were it not for the arms of the young blonde, which were now completely entwined around her body. She kissed back hungrily, and it wasn't until the sky lit up a second time she regained control of the situation and led her eager young lover back towards the path. 

"We should go, Carrie…" she began as a large rain drop landed on her arm. "There's a storm coming, and it probably isn't wise to be standing on the highest point on the horizon."

Carrie looked at her longingly. With that kiss, every ounce of her inhibition had exploded into the past. There was a part of her that accepted the sense in Nell's words. The sky over the city was black, and the light where they were standing was fading by the minute. When it came, the storm was bound to be ferocious. But somehow there were so many things she wanted to say – so many things that would evaporate or just seem stupid once they were back in the confines of civilisation. 

"Carrie?" Nell leaned forward and brushed a stray strand of hair from the blonde's face. "Don't you think we should?"

"I know we should… but I don't think I want to just yet."

"What do you mean? We have all night, and tomorrow night, and the night after that ad infinitum if that's what you want. I know I want it."

Carrie shook her head and finally summoned the courage, her blue eyes shining. "I'll do my best to make it back to one of our apartments, but if I don't get to have you soon I'm going to explode because you're setting me on fire!" She blushed a little as she uttered the words, worried that maybe her response had been a little bit theatrical, but it was how she felt and her emotions had long passed the point of tidy control.

Nell suddenly leaned forward and placed an unexpected kiss on the young woman's forehead. "You're a sweet girl, Carrie," she whispered as another gentle splash of rain landed on her face this time, rolling down her cheek in a single tear. Carrie's heart was melting, and before she could stop herself she was reaching forward an unbuttoning Nell's linen blouse, holding her breath as a small line of flesh was revealed. 

Slowly, as though she were unwrapping the most treasured gift, Carrie slid the blouse from her lover's shoulders, revealing a white lace bra that seemed to accentuate the gentle swells of Nell's breasts. She was losing herself by the moment, her fingertips brushing lightly over the Dutchwoman's stomach as they felt their way to the warm brass fastenings of her jeans.

The ground was now trembling with the force of the thunder as Carrie undressed the woman before her. Any thoughts of getting away from the storm had evaporated from Nell, who simply stood there, her breathing slightly ragged as she surrendered her body to both the elements and to Carrie's expert touch.

Once the jeans hung open, exposing the top of her matching white panties, Nell pulled Carrie deeper into the trees. Although far from perfect, the canopy of branches and leaves would at least offer them some protection against the falling rain. They found refuge under a stunted peach tree, ripe fruit scattered on the velvet ground around it. When Carrie's lips found Nell's for the third time, the Dutch woman was forced to slide down the trunk into a sitting position, allowing the blonde to slide the jeans down over her hips and tug them off her legs, scattering her sandals in wild abandon.

She was now down to her underwear, sprawled against the tree with her lips slightly parted. Carrie followed the outline of her long legs and strained to see beyond the outline of her panties, but Nell had completely different ideas.

"Take your clothes off, Carrie," she instructed.

Carrie obliged, kicking off her shoes recklessly, and pulling her lightweight cotton dress in one short tug over her head. When she was down to her underwear, however, she stopped, overcome by a sudden shyness. Without the protection of her skimpy underwear, Nell would be able to see the wetness soaking through the material of her thong and the way in which her hungry pussy had become engorged. She didn't want her new relationship to begin in such a voracious way, but yet her body was telling a different story.

"I meant all of them," said Nell after a short pause.

Carrie reached behind herself and unfastened the clasp of her bra, allowing her breasts to fall free onto her chest, where they hung there round and ripe as the fruit that surrounded them. Never in her life had she stripped for a lover. Never in her life had she stood naked in broad daylight to be admired and to be enjoyed, but it did nothing to deter her from completing the act by hooking her fingers around her skimpy thong and allowing it to drop around her ankles.

Nell looked her up and down. "You're beautiful," she whispered and waited for the girl to approach her. Carrie wasn't ashamed of her body. With the lack of anything else to do outside the hotel complex, she'd spent most of her nights during the past month either at the hotel gym or the pool. She wasn't as tanned as Nell, and with her fair skin was unlikely ever to become so, but for the Dutchwoman, who had craved such a girl for so long, Carrie was everything and more than she'd ever dreamed of.




The Things Inside Our Hearts



The grumbling and crashing in the skies intensified as Carrie knelt beside Nell's body, touching her through her bra. Despite the lightness of the young blonde's touch, Nell's nipples had swollen to two erect nubs that were fighting to be free of the inhibitive lacework.

Without bothering with the fastening for now, Carrie lifted Nell's bra over her breasts and took hold of one of the nipples between her lips. There was a low moan of pleasure at the contact, which intensified as Carrie's tongue found its rhythm, grazing over the sensitive peak until Nell was putty in her hands.

"Don't stop, darling," whispered the dark-haired woman as her knees fell apart in total surrender, and Carrie was more than happy to oblige. She had reached the point of no return with the very first kiss and as the rain began to work its way between the leaves she knew that not even a monsoon could have stopped her now.

While Carrie was unfastening and removing the rest of the awkward bra, Nell's hand suddenly slipped between the young blonde's legs, finding her clit with one soft stroke. Carrie shuddered, but the finger was gone no sooner had it made contact. She carried on sucking on the brunette's nipple, soon switching to the other and giving the flesh around it gentle squeezes until she heard Nell's breath becoming heavier and knew that she had this woman exactly where she wanted her.

Unexpectedly, just as the tingle was fading from the previous touch, Nell's finger materialised again – the same short, fleeting stroke, but this time it returned almost immediately back to the entrance of Carrie's pussy, testing out the gathering juices and releasing infinitely more in the process. Carrie felt her muscles tightening and started to moan.

In the past, her lovers had been retiring types who'd given advance warning and always waited for the signal to penetrate. Nell, however, had already thrust two fingers deep into her soaking pussy, reaching further and further inside until her knuckles were threatening to follow. When maximum penetration was reached, Nell curled her fingers back towards her and began a slow stroking movement. Carrie knew what was going to come next and braced herself for the surge of pleasure that as her g-spot was found.

Never one to disappoint, Nell kept her fingers there and made a slight adjustment to the pressure, stroking against it slowly and watching as the blonde began to writhe around her fingers. Carrie was no longer supporting herself, instead leaning heavily against the Dutchwoman, her head cushioned between two firm breasts. Occasionally, she ran a tongue over Nell's bronzed flesh, but her ability to do anything other than lie there and take it was diminishing by the second.

After a while Nell adjusted the position of her hand and Carrie felt another digit, possibly a thumb coming into contact with her clit. The double sensation was more than she could take and soon the fire in her stomach exploded as her pussy began to spasm around the insistent fingers. Nell knew exactly what she was doing and chose to keep her lover there for a while, easing off for a couple of seconds and then renewing the gentle pressure until Carrie's body grew limp in her arms and began to tremble with the aftershocks of a powerful orgasm. 

Nell held the Brit close for a while, stroking her hair and whispering sweet nothings until she felt Carrie's breathing returning to normal. She removed her fingers slowly, and then moved them to her own lips. Carrie watched, slightly bleary-eyed as her lover tasted her juices, sliding her tongue along her fingers until only the memory of Carrie remained. It made for an insanely erotic picture and the longer Carrie watched, the more powerful her own hunger became. 

Not waiting for further permission, Carrie lifted herself back up and moved her head so that it was directly between the woman's legs. She pressed her tongue against the damp fabric of the panties and took a deep, heady breath that was laced with scent Nell's arousal. At the first contact Nell arched her spine and moaned, spreading her legs wider still and tugging at the sides of her panties.

Carrie straightened up and lent her own fingers to the effort, waiting only until the material lay in a crumpled band around Nell's thighs before diving straight in with her tongue. The Dutchwoman tasted exquisite. As Carrie lapped around the edges of the engorged pussy, she was hit by an infusion of different tastes – the light fragrance of a body lotion, the salty taste of her sweat, but more than anything else a sweetness that sent her senses reeling.

"Oh my God!" exclaimed Carrie breathlessly, "You taste of…"

"Of peaches?" giggled Nell unexpectedly. "I sat on one by accident when you were kissing me."

Carrie smiled and dipped her tongue between the folds of Nell's wet pussy. It was difficult to tell where the sticky peach juice ended and brunette's sweet secretions began, and as her tongue probed and caressed so her lover's laughter changed into a gentle moaning. 

Sensing that the woman was close, Carrie snaked her tongue back up to the clit and began flicking it over the swollen nub. A few seconds later it was back at the entrance of Nell's pussy, pushing tight against the opening until slowly it began slipping inside. A couple of slow circular movements and Nell's hips were rising off the ground, willing Carrie's tongue deeper and deeper inside her. This wasn't any quick release – the young Brit was taking her time with this woman, keeping her on the edge but not quite letting her go over it. 

Nell moaned loudly again as the tongue slid back out and found her clit once more. It had swollen to twice its normal size and was already pulsing with anticipation. One last feathery lick and Nell's hips were thrusting wildly. Carrie was now holding her down, determined not to let any of the juices to go to waste. She licked hard against the opening of the Dutchwoman's pussy, darting her tongue in and out as her mouth was filled with a gush after gush of sweet cum.

Carrie was still licking when her partner gradually became still, every last ounce of energy gone in the orgasm to end all orgasms.

"Honey," whispered Nell, her voice tight with emotion. Carrie felt two hands at the side of her head, and slowly looked up at the exhausted brunette. The flush of orgasm was still there across her chest and her neck, and her lips were a deep red. "Hold me…" she mumbled, her voice beginning to break.

Carrie positioned herself on top of Nell and wrapped her arms around her, and for a while the pair of them stayed silently in that position while the storm broke all around them. The weight of the rain on the leaves sent another peach falling and behind it came a shower of cold drips. Carrie bore the brunt of it and shivered.

"We should go somewhere more comfortable," said Nell, having finally regained her senses. "I want to hold you in my arms all night, but I'm not sure that getting pneumonia is a good way to go about things. Come on - the car isn't very far away." She gave Carrie's butt a gentle squeeze and the pair of them disentangled, got dressed and stepped out into a wall of rain.

They hurtled the rest of the way down the path, almost deafened by the constant thunder. The sun having long disappeared it was starting to get dark, and Carrie breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the lights of the rain-soaked jeep flicker as Nell disabled the lock.

A combination of the weather and their previous orgasms had loosened their last remaining inhibitions of the two women, and they dived into the car unceremoniously, collapsing with laughter in two dripping heaps as they pulled the doors shut against the driving rain. As the windows steamed up, their laughter gradually subsided.

"I'd like to invite you back to my place," began Nell, "but at the moment it happens to be a poky little tenement room in the eastern district. It's nothing more than a horrible rotten flea-pit.

Carrie raised her eyebrows. "Then why are you staying there?"

"I gather intelligence, Carrie. That's what I do for my job."

Suddenly everything started to fall into place. Carrie frowned and wiped a wet strand of hair away from her face. "You don't sound like you enjoy it, though. Why do you still do it? You seem to be the kind of person who could do anything if you set your mind to it."

Nell's expression changed. "I do it," she said "for the same reason you don't run away from your job. Perhaps I'll never be able to make any difference, but if I quit then I know I'll never be able to make any difference."

"It isn't possible to save the whole world, Nell…"

"Perhaps it isn't, but if I am able to save one person it makes all the difference to them."

Carrie sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. "Do your family know where you are or what you're doing at the moment?"

"I have no family. Not any more."

"But I thought –"

"My parents are both dead. I have no other close relatives. I'm very much my own woman and I come and go as I please without upsetting anyone."

"I'm sorry," said Carrie, grounded by the revelation.

"There's no need to be sorry, Carrie. It happened quite a long time ago. They both died separately of natural causes, and ever since I have learned to be independent – as you can see."

"But everybody needs somebody there to look out for them."

"Maybe so, but I have learned to cope perfectly well on my own." Nell was resolute, but Carrie had the upper hand of knowing that the brunette was now exactly where she wanted her.

"But honey, you told me a while ago that you were only human. Are you trying to say you couldn't use a sexy blonde to cling to when the going gets rough?"

"What are you suggesting?"

"I think you know," said Carrie quietly. "If you have the same feelings inside you that I have right now, then you'll know."

There was a tense silence. Nell looked up. The tears were filling her eyes once again, and Carrie reached over to wipe away one that had escaped from the corner of her eye. She leaned forwards and kissed Nell lightly – just a gentle graze of the lips that caused her misty eyes to close.

The kiss that followed overflowed with raw emotion. No tongues – just lips moving slowly over one another in a tender caress.

"I think I lo-"

"Sh!" Nell placed a finger across Carrie's lips, stopping the rest of her words. "There'll be plenty of time for that when we get back to your room, lievling. And as for looking out for each other, yes. I'd like it very much."

Carrie smiled and held the dark-haired woman's gaze for a few moments longer, but she was broken from the trance by a sharp buzzing noise that came from the glove compartment in front of her. Nell reached over and opened it quickly, removing a small pager that was flashing with a new message. She read it slowly, a frown beginning to darken her face.

"What is it?" asked Carrie.

"Oh… just work. People playing with fire and then wondering why the blaze gets out of control. Listen darling, I'm afraid I have to drop you back off at your hotel now. I'm needed rather urgently. I don't think I will be a long time, but I promise you I'll come straight back as soon as I'm able."

"Is this dangerous?" Carrie was suddenly scared.

"Darling, this is what I do every day of my life. As things go, it'll probably be just a walk in the park. So you mustn't worry." She turned the key in the ignition, allowed some of the condensation to evaporate and then wheeled the jeep around to retrace their steps back down the mountain road. Carrie was still quiet.

"Just order some room service, take a hot bath, and before you know it we'll be in each other's arms again. You have to trust me, Carrie – remember?" Carrie did remember, and resigned herself to the fact that she'd have to wait for her next slice of paradise.

By the time they rolled to a stop outside the imposing walls of the Sheraton, the world had become pitch black. The power grid was evidently unable to compete with the natural ferocity of the storm, and the majority of the city had been plunged into darkness. Dim lights could be seen coming from the reception and a couple of the other rooms, but even these were flickering as the generator whined and spluttered through the heavy lashing of the rain.

Nell had seemed preoccupied for much of the journey home, and when the two women parted it was with a wordless pressing of the lips. Shivering, Carrie collected her key from reception and began the long-ascent up the staircase. It was only seven o'clock, but she felt worn out by the drama of the day.

She entered her room, lit a couple of candles as back up for the flickering lights and then peeled the rain-soaked dress from her skin, all too aware that for most of the journey home Nell would have had a clear view of her underwear. She turned on the shower and watched the steam rise and fill the small bathroom. 

All of her clothes landed with small thumps in an untidy heap on the floor. Carrie was in a world of her own and as the hot water beat down on her aching muscles she began to imagine how it would be if Nell were with her now. It was an easy thought to entertain. They say that when you find the right person it feels as though they're always there with you, no matter how far away they might be; and this was precisely how Carrie felt. She could imagine her whole life stretching out ahead of her in the company of this beautiful sensual woman in an everlasting series of cut-scenes – fabulous, timeless, emotional moments. She had wrestled with her feelings all afternoon, but now the young woman knew that she had fallen in love.

She looked in the clock and saw that half an hour had passed since she began her first idle daydream. The electricity was still on, but the lights had faded to a dull glow. If she waited any longer there'd be no way of getting through to room services other than by fumbling through the dark to the kitchen herself.

She turned the dial and silenced the torrent of water, then wrapped herself up in a bathrobe to make the call.

"Hello, room service. How may I help you?"

"Hi, I'd like to order some dinner –"

"I'm afraid that's not currently possible, madam. Our power is down and we have no way of preparing the food. There are some snacks in the bar area, but you will have to move quickly because I think they will soon be closed."

"Oh." Carrie was genuinely disappointed. The anaemic-looking salad she'd picked at in the embassy's canteen during the lunch hour had long since been digested, and now for the first time since arriving in the country she was ravenous. 

She replaced the handset and wandered over to the gurgling drinks cooler, where she found some chocolate and a packet of nuts, but nothing else, and for the rest of the evening she simply waited. Normally, when left to her own devices, Carrie was very creative with her time. She liked to read or listen to music, and often she'd just lie sprawled on her bed, sketching scenes that she had come across during the today. Tonight she didn't feel like doing any of that. Whether it was her empty stomach or some kind of sixth sense, she felt uneasy, and the feeling grew as the hours passed by, closer and closer to midnight.

It was shortly after two that the power went down completely. The candles that Carrie had lit earlier on were now only half their original size, and the wax was now melting down the sides of the holders. Carrie was sitting at the window in her leather office chair, watching as lightning flashed in the far distance. Now that the storm had passed the city was eerily quiet. Apart from the weakening contributions of Mother Nature, not a single light was visible – no sign at all that Nell was heading back towards Carrie's arms, and after a while the blonde sank into a troubled sleep.

She awoke an hour later, still wrapped in the bathrobe with her head leaning against the cool pain of glass. Stirring herself from her slumber, she crossed over to the water cooler and poured herself a drink. It was as she was lifting the cup to her lips that she felt the floor shake beneath her and heard a loud explosion across the city. It came in several sharp instalments, each boom sending water slopping over the edge of the cup. Carrie set it down on the table and hurried back to the window in time to see a ball of flame fading in the distance. It was soon replaced by plumes of smoke and the flicker of several smaller blazes. Soon there were sirens and flashing blue lights dancing along the deserted street. Something big had happened and Carrie was relieved to be in the light and safety of her hotel room. That feeling, however, was eclipsed when she noticed that all the candles had gone out from the force of the blasts.

She cursed and groped through the dark to her bedside table. She kept a stash of lighters in the bottom drawer along with the cigarettes that she'd given up smoking and a couple of adult magazines. If there was any time to stop being a non-smoker it was now. She had been so close to finding inner peace with Nell that without her, the loneliness felt unbearable. Carrie dropped to her knees and began fumbling in the open drawer. Something must have happened. Either that, or the woman had finished late and decided not to disturb her new acquaintance. Or possibly she'd simply got cold feet and decided to escape while she still could. Carrie's hand was now rooting around angrily as she weighed up the possibilities. In the process she caught her wrist on a nail that was sticking out of the woodwork, and withdrew her hand with a sharp cry.

There was a click behind her left ear and she leapt at the sudden brightness that appeared.

"Maybe this will help," said a calm voice above her, and Carrie was suddenly greeted by the sight of Nell, pale but more real than life itself as she stood behind the glow of her lighter.

"I didn't hear you come in…" began Carrie. "I heard a couple of explosions back there. What happened?"

Dawn was just beginning to break outside, the night sky lightening to a dreary charcoal. There were still several hours until daylight, and Nell reached over to a nearby candle and re-lit it, bathing the room in a shadowy glow. "That's not important, honey. This –" She pointed at the floor between them. "This is important – the here and now. I'm sorry I came so late.

Carrie's fears melted away in an instant and she threw her arms around Nell in a passionate embrace. "It doesn't matter. I'm just glad you're here now."

"I keep my promises, Carrie. It doesn't matter how difficult the circumstances are, I always keep my promise."

They kissed for what felt like an eternity, but this time Nell was taking the lead. Her fingers were already unfastening the loose ties of Carrie's bathrobe, and as she inched the young woman backwards the garment was slipping from her shoulders like a slow moving river. When her butt finally came into contact with mattress, Carrie sank down onto it. 

Nell's touch was light, but persistent – just one finger tracing patterns along Carrie's stomach, sending shockwaves along her skin as it travelled down over her hips, over her ass, and then tantalisingly along the insides of her thighs. Carrie could feel herself getting wetter by the second. It was almost as though someone had taken a feather to every nerve-ending in her body, and was soon barely able to suppress her low moans.

Nell's hands suddenly found her lover's shoulders and began easing her responsive body back onto the bed. The angle wasn't perfect, causing Carrie's legs to fall apart untidily. But the effect was perfect for Nell, who was now being offered an unrestricted view of her lover's swollen lips.

"My God darling… you really are beautiful," breathed Nell as she looked at the sprawling figure of the blonde. She moved forwards, but didn't show any sign of taking her own clothes off. She'd changed since their earlier encounter; the jeans and shirt replaced by a little black dress that emphasised her hourglass figure to perfection. 




The Things Inside Our Hearts



Usually this was something that Carrie would have commented on straight away. But in the minutes just passed she had been swept clean off her feet, unable to do anything but lie there as her body was admired. She knew what was coming next – either fingers or a tongue, and Nell was already clearing her route, spreading the legs of her lover far apart until she could almost see between the folds of her shaved pussy. But what Nell did next took Carrie by absolute surprise.

Instead of lower her head or reaching forward with her hands, the brunette was moving closer to the bed, pushing Carrie's legs wider apart in the process, until the hemline of her dress was tickling along the inside of Carrie's thighs. She lifted the edge of her dress and rolled it up around her waist to reveal a thin strip of dark hair that led directly to her protruding clit.

Again Carrie felt the urge to spring forward and bury her tongue in this woman's pussy. She remembered the sweetness of the peaches and found herself wondering how much of the sweetness was from the actual fruit, but the thought didn't stay with her long. Nell was now leaning over her body, stray strands of her long dark hair falling over Carrie's skin in hundreds of silken caresses. She was running her fingers through the Brit's hair, soothing and stroking as she lined herself up for the next move.

Suddenly taking hold of Carrie's hips, Nell eased her pussy slowly onto the other, enjoying the warmth, the softness and the neverending wetness. She rocked for a few moments, finding the ideal position so that their clits were touching and would continue to do so no matter how frantic the grinding might become.

Carrie, who'd never experienced this kind of physical pleasure found, herself whimpering. She could feel everything, and the tighter the Dutchwoman ground against her, the more certain she became that this woman's copious juices were now beginning to trickle inside her. The realisation sent another surge of electricity through her and soon she was rubbing back just as hard, feelings her thighs becoming soaked from the intensity of the act.

Nell's eyes were closed and her breathing was becoming heavier by the second. She was close to coming, and in anticipation of the moment Carrie was spreading her legs even wider, willing this dark-haired beauty to an orgasm all over her dripping pussy. Pressing harder still, Nell lowered her lips to one of Carrie's nipples and began grazing her teeth against it, enjoying the way it hardened in an instant and deepened to a dark crimson.

Soon the thrusting and grinding became more and more erratic. Both women were sweating and soon Nell was forced to stop and remove her dress completely. It happened at a crucial moment. Carrie's pussy was already twitching in the first stages of orgasm when Nell drew away. But the sight of this woman's flawless breasts proved more than enough to ease Carrie's disappointment.

Nell soon climbed up on the bed next to her and began easing her body over the sheets so that her legs were finally on the bed. Carrie was like a rag doll in her hands, and making the most of the situation, Nell set about rearranging her body, bending her legs at the knees and pulling her legs further apart until the blonde was in a position that left her completely vulnerable.

Taking her time, the Dutchwoman placed a knee either side of Carrie's head, lowering her pussy to a tempting distance but keeping it agonisingly short of the young woman's tongue. She held the position as she leaned forwards, resting her hands against Carrie's inner thighs as she lost herself to the scent of female arousal.

Her pussy descended on Carrie's mouth just about the same time her own tongue made contact with the blonde's velvet folds. Both women arched from the first touch, but the tongues kept dipping again and again until they were eating each other out with the voracity of a lifetime of sexual drought.

Carrie brought the first surprise in the form of her index finger, which she slid all the way inside the brunette with perfect ease. Never one to be outdone, Nell followed suit; but by the feeling of fullness in her pussy Carrie knew that Nell had slipped an extra digit inside her. The second finger was soon followed by a third, and then a fourth wriggled its way into her ready hole. 

Carrie moaned as the tongue and the fingers set to work. She was trying desperately to keep up with the slow probing rhythm but struggling as the waves of ecstasy began to surge through her body. Her head was spinning and above her she could feel the beautiful brunette thrusting and grinding against her touch. For a few moments it felt like she was no longer in her own body, instead watching this erotic scene from a corner of the room, drawn to its passion, its intensity and the single bright flame that burnt between them.

As her body caved in to orgasm, she heard Nell let out a small cry. They were both coming - together. The room was becoming dim, and Carrie's body was turning rapidly into lead. Only the sounds remained of Nell's moans and her own pounding heart, and soon even those faded into nothing.

When she opened her eyes again, her head was resting on Nell's chest, her arm drawn over the brunette, who was watching her intently.

"Welcome back to the world of the living, darling." A warm smile had spread across her face, and Carrie noticed for the first time that the woman's fingers were resting against her cheek, lulling her to a state where it was impossible to do anything but lie there while her senses came back into focus.

"I hope the walls to this room are thick, because if not I doubt whether any of your neighbours could have slept through that!"

Carrie managed a faint smile. "I don't think I can move…"

"It's ok. I don't want you to move, darling. I want you to lie here in my arms all night. Just keep your head on my chest and let me hold you."

Carrie felt her last reserves of energy fading. She felt more contented and more secure than she had done in her entire life, and as she sank deeper into the Dutchwoman's arms she heard the words that she'd been waiting for –

"I love you, Carrie… It does matter what I might say or not say, do or not do… I love you - and I always will."

When she woke the next morning it was to an empty bed. The sunlight was streaming through the window and the bustle of the busy streets floated along the horizon. Carrie glanced around the room, half-expecting to see Nell emerging from the shower or coming in through the front door with a newspaper in her hand, but there was no sign of the beautiful woman, apart from the indentations in the sheets.

She rose to a sitting position and ran her fingers through her hair. She glanced at her clock but the digits stood flashing at 3.07. Panicking, Carrie made a swipe for her watch. She was usually up and dressed long before the rest of the city. Her face fell as she saw that she was already half an hour late for work.

She picked up the phone to make the apologetic phone call, but realised as soon as the receiver touched her ear that it was dead. She replaced the handset and took a quick look at the socket. It had been unplugged, and when she turned it on she found two separate messages from Forster. The first came across as being concerned and understanding, but in the second the diplomat's practised tones were very much strained. 

Carrie groaned. It was hardly a good impression to make in her first month on the job. She had enough riding against her as it was without making careless mistakes. Nell had probably overslept too, and rushed off in the same kind of hurry as she had the previous evening. Without wasting any more time, Carrie leapt out of bed and hauled on a light business suit. When she came to put on her shoes, though, she found that one of them was missing. She searched for a while in all the obvious places before cutting her losses and turning to look for another pair. When she saw that there were no pairs as such, just random shoes that each missed a partner, she felt like screaming.

Nell. It had to be. Some kind of practical joke. The phone, the shoes and now, as Carrie reached for the handle of her door she found it locked. The key, which she normally kept in the lock, was nowhere in sight. This was taking things that little bit too far. 

Carrie was a good judge of people as a rule, and not for one second had she considered Nell as the prankster type. The early morning games confused Carrie almost as much as they annoyed her. She hadn't seen this one coming. Even in her lightest moments Nell had never been anything but dignified and mature.

Carrie peered around the room in search for a note or a scrawled message that might somehow make sense of the situation, but everything was exactly how it had been left the previous night. A drawer still open, one candle that had burned down to the base, but nothing else that might seem strange or unusual. What bothered Carrie much more, though, was that there was no sign of her room key. Without it, she was effectively a prisoner in her own room, utterly dependent on the hotel to send someone up to let her out.

Carrie returned to her bed, odd shoes on either foot, and sat down to review her situation. Somewhere deep inside she was still half-expecting Nell to leap out at any moment, laughing as she dangled the key and a couple of the missing shoes. But as the seconds dragged on into minutes, she realised she was waiting for an event that would never happen.

Annoyed, she picked up the phone and dialled through to the switchboard. It rang for an age before being answered, and even then the receptionist had difficulty understanding a word of what Carrie was saying. 

"Hello, which room are you calling from, madam?"

"Fifty three. I've misplaced by keys and need someone to come and unlock the door please."

"Which room was that?"

"Fifty three."

"I'm sorry ma'am, you need to speak louder."

"FIFTY THREE!"

"Could you repeat that?"

"FIFTY THREE!!!" Carrie was now shouting at the top of her voice, articulating every syllable with the precision of a cut diamond, but her words were lost on the hapless operator, who found it impossible to make them out through the whines and crackles of a line that clearly needed to be checked by an engineer. He sighed and replaced the handset, noting the problem on his expanding To Do list.

A thin line of perspiration appeared above Carrie's brow as she threw the phone to the floor. The key had to be somewhere – unless, of course, Nell had locked it from the outside. Carrie moved back to the doorway, but this time dropped to her knees to peer under the gap. Sure enough it was there, resting on the floor just a foot from the outside of the door. The adrenalin was now pumping through her body, clearing her mind of everything except finding a way out, and as Carrie saw the key her solution came in a flash. She needed something long and thin enough to slide underneath the heavy door, and an untwisted coat hanger was ideal for the task.

Once the key was safely back in her hand, Carrie didn't bother handing it in at the reception desk. The detour would have taken her at least another five minutes, while the underground parking, where her car was housed, lay directly below her. She flew down the stairwell, stumbling slightly in her odd shoes, and then leapt into the car, pausing only briefly to pull her jacket out from the slammed door. She thrust the key in the ignition and gave it a sharp twist. 

There was a tired wheeze from the engine and the dash lit up, but apart from that – nothing. Carrie tried again, refusing to believe that her day could be going this badly, but her efforts were a waste of time. The young blonde swore and lashed out in frustration at the front panel. She was instantly deafened by a loud jingle, and realised that her blow had inadvertently turned on the car stereo. At least all the electronics appeared to be working.

Finally admitting defeat, she stepped out, threw a light scarf over her head and braced herself for the walk. She was already horribly late. A couple more minutes were hardly going to make that much difference anyway.

She set off at a blistering pace, headed directly for the tallest building in the skyline, which was her place of work. It was a difficult journey, where she was shunted and buffeted mercilessly by the pressing crowds, almost having to fight as she worked her way through them to reach her destination.

Carrie could be stubborn along with the very best of them. There were times such as these when it could be used in her favour, but plenty of others where her friends and family both swore that her headstrong perseverance would one day get the better of her. But that day wasn't today. 

As the rounded the corner that led towards the embassy, Carrie slackened her pace and paused in a nearby alleyway. In any normal place of work, her lateness would have been forgiven and perhaps even smiled at. Her, however, it was likely to be used as ammunition – part of a long list of minor transgressions, which would eventually lead to her dismissal. Carrie wasn't a natural pessimist, but deep down she knew that she'd been defeated by the overwhelming odds. In a strange way the realisation came more as a relief than any stinging disappointment. She'd done her best, but the old adage had come true – it really was no place for a woman, and the young blonde had grown weary of battling against the rising tide. 

She was still some way from the security cordon when she first heard the sound of the approaching vehicle. It was a black van and as it screeched around the corner on two wheels, Carrie knew that it wasn't going to stop. As it whizzed past she caught a fleeting glimpse of the driver, his eyes dark and focussed as he regained control and leaned harder on the gas. 

Gunshots rang out from the guard post, but the van charged on regardless. There was a piercing scream as one of the bullets hit a tyre and deflated the air inside it, sending the vehicle skidding across the road. But it kept going. It was now gathering speed and cut through the metal of the security barrier with a loud crack. 

People were running. The guards were now leaving their posts, firing shots wildly as they retreated as quickly as they could. Within seconds the van was going to plough into the front wall of the embassy, directly below Carrie's office and the adjoining room of her boss. But then something else happened.

Without warning the van erupted into a fireball, leaving the ground in slow motion as the force of the blast crashed through the building. The van made a steady arc, before coming into contact with the roof and descending with a force that caused the entire street to shake. Above the general roar pieces masonry could be heard breaking away and shattering on the sidewalk. Carrie looked away for a moment as a large shower of plaster fell onto her shoulder. When she looked back it was impossible to see beyond the advancing cloud of dust. Coughing, she turned in the other direction and headed back the way she'd come. Car alarms were now screeching all around her, and above them soared the all too familiar wail of sirens.

A couple of security guards were now thundering towards her, grim-faced beneath the dirt and sweat that covered their faces.

"Clear the area!" shouted one as he passed Carrie. "Move right to the end of the street until you hear otherwise."

A subdued procession of passers-by were following some way behind the guards. Some were crying, others clutching part of their bodies that had been injured by flying debris, but many more walked past in an emotionless daze. There had been several car bombs on almost a weekly basis since Carrie had arrived. But none of them had ever been as big as this, or targeted a foreign power.

As she wove her way along the hysterical streets back to the safety of her hotel room, she thought of the people inside the building. They may have been shits, but they hadn't deserved this. The majority of them were like her – just ordinary people trying to forge a career – and there, but for her guardian angel, would she have been had the morning turned out differently.

Her hands were still shaking as she saw the welcome sight of her hotel. There was nothing she could do now, but wait. Phone her parents and then wait for news of those inside. She worried about how Nell would react when she heard of the bomb. They hadn't exchanged numbers, and apart from the vague description of where she lived, Carrie had no way of getting in contact with the only friend in the region she had.

The thought made her vulnerable, and instead of going straight to her room she opted to sit in her car for a little while in the coolness of the underground car park. There was nobody in sight, and for this Carrie was unduly thankful. She needed a few moments to be alone and gather her thoughts before she faced the world again.

When she heard the sound of voices, her heart sank. With the exception of one woman, Carrie couldn't deal with the strains of human contact at that time. Nervously, she glanced around the cavernous chamber, but there wasn't a soul in sight. As she approached her car the voices seemed to get louder, until she realised that in her haste to get to work, she'd left the radio playing. Now, as she climbed into the vehicle and locked the doors around her, the became surrounded by the voice of a frumpy ex-pat reeling off the morning's news without so much as a flicker of emotion in her voice.

"And of course we'll have more news of the explosion at the British embassy later on in the programme. And now for news of another blast – this time in a residential area of the eastern district. The explosion occurred shortly after 3am local time after a struggle between American intelligence personnel and a group of insurgents. According to reports, the building had been under surveillance for several months, and it is widely believed that a homemade explosives factory had been discovered in the basement. There were several fatalities as a result of the blast, and although official figures have not been given, it's believed that among the dead were four Americans and a woman of Dutch nationality." 

Carrie froze and processed the information slowly. The presenter moved on to the next item, which was about recent increases in oil prices, but the words floated over Carrie's head like particles of dust. All the politics, the faux-diplomacy and the atmosphere of a world poised on the trigger were of little consequence to the blonde woman now. Instead, Nell's words rang like sirens through her mind, giving the delays and setbacks and inexplicable annoyances she'd been through that day an undertone of something else – something that she could hardly bring herself to contemplate - 

"I am from the Netherlands – and I'm the only Dutch person in the country, if you must know…"

She must have got it wrong. They had been together, making slow sensuous love until the break of dawn. She had fallen asleep in this woman's arms – yet woken up without her, and the uncomfortable emotions brought down every barrier within Carrie as she threw her head onto the steering wheel and sobbed. They were tears of silent heartbreak.

As summer rolled into autumn and autumn froze and cracked into a long cold winter, Carrie's pain lessened but never really left her, and now, as she stood in her old office for the first time in thirty years, it came flooding back to her in a long and poignant daydream.

"Ms Morgan?"

Thirty years of dust and nothing had changed.

"Ms Morgan?" 

Carrie ran her fingers through her greying hair and turned to face the young intern. 

"You called for me. Is there anything you'd like me to do?" He was fresh-faced, earnest, and displayed the kind of reverence towards Carrie that he might have done to a member of the royalty. But that was the way most people acted around Carrie these days. Committed to her cause, she'd ridden the storms of her career and finally made it to the top. The woman's touch had finally arrived in a country that had known nothing but conflict for decades. Carrie was back, and this time things were going to be very different.