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Bruce

By: captivate



The year was 1972. It was the sexual revolution all over America. On college campuses, sex was everywhere. There was no fear of disease because anything could be cured with a painful shot and a supply of antibiotics. People passed each other, eyes met, and they went home together.

Jane's housemates were no different. A few had steady boyfriends, but mostly it was a constant parade of new males, different ones each night. Jane spent her nights listening to the pounding of the headboards up and down the hall, hearing the moans and cries of delights from her friends. And she slept alone.

For all her feigned worldliness, she was an innocent. At nearly 22, she was an anomaly. She had never had sex, had barely been kissed. She wanted to learn, but didn't know who could teach her. 

Jane had not exactly saved herself, but she had never found anyone who made her want to get naked and do the intimate things all her housemates talked about. She couldn't imagine feeling comfortable enough, confident enough, to sit around, exposed, touching and actually doing the acts they all seemed to favor.

So, she waited. Finally, she saw a man who might to be the one to teach her. He was older, all of 31. Bruce had been in the service, and exuded an air of knowledge and skill. At first, they passed each other, frequently but casually, around campus and hanging out at the Student Center. Then, they began spending time together. He took it slow, just being with her, walking alongside her to various campus events. He talked about his family and his aspirations. He seemed nice. And he didn't rush her.

Eventually, he asked her to a movie or to the neighborhood hang-out for some fries. It was very low-key. He didn't even try to hold her hand for several dates. Jane was given all the time she needed to feel comfortable with him. When he finally, tentatively, kissed her, Jane liked it. Slowly, he brought her along. While holding her hand, he might gently press against her breast with his arm or pull her close beside him as they walked.

Sensing that this might be the person to initiate her, Jane made the lonely trip to the campus doctor, endured the humiliating exam and received, as her prize, a 6-month supply of birth control pills. She began taking them that very night, wanting to be ready for Bruce and the wondrousness of sex.

One day, he took her to his apartment. His roommate had gone home for Spring Break and he was alone there. They sat on the couch, watching an old Western on TV, making fun of the actors. Bruce had decided that humor worked best with her and maintained a running commentary which made her giggle. Then he offered her a backrub. He said he gave his sisters backrubs all the time and they really enjoyed them. It sounded safe enough.

He turned Jane on the couch and knelt behind her, rubbing her shoulders through her dress. He slowly lowered the zipper, to get better access to her tight muscles. Then he kissed her neck, his soft lips sliding along her tense flesh.

Jane wanted to be overwhelmed with desire, blinded by lust and need. Instead she felt nothing, wondering if this was IT, and wondering why she didn't feel more.

Bruce led her to the bedroom, with the two twin beds, one of them messy and unmade. As he sat on the edge of the bed, he pulled her between his thighs, holding her around her hips, pressing his cheek to her tummy. She sucked in her breath, wanting to seem desirable to him, never realizing it didn't make a difference, he was going to get anything he could. 

It was 1972. Nice young ladies wore bras and panty girdles, stockings and slips. And Jane was a nice young lady. She stood there, with all the clothing separating them and wondered how one went about getting naked and into the bed. Her friends didn't tell her that; they spoke of rapture, desire and difficulty breathing, of wanting someone so much the clothes just melted away. Jane waited for that to happen. Her mind remained stubbornly analytical. She noticed Bruce had thinning hair as she stood in front of him, towering over his sitting form. She thought his hands felt warm, damp...doughy. When he looked up, when she bent down, when they kissed; she couldn't help thinking that it wasn't very pleasurable at all, that he seemed to be suffocating her. Still, she stood there, waiting and hoping that ecstasy would overwhelm her.

It didn't. Instead, Bruce moved back slightly on the bed, sitting in the midst of the dirty sheets, and watched her. She wasn't sure what to do or how to do it. Apparently, this was the part where she was supposed to get naked, rush into his arms and give herself to him. Suddenly, she was unsure that he was the one to teach her. As she stood there, arms hanging loosely at her sides, she had an overwhelming desire to walk away, to just leave this uncomfortable situation. 

Bruce finally grew tired of waiting for her. With a plaintive sigh, he stood and began removing his clothes, hoping to incite her lust. He unbuttoned his loud plaid sports shirt. He undid his fancy leather belt and unzipped his very blue jeans. Finally, he was in his white underwear. His body was a pasty white, puffy, doughy. He had no body hair that she could see, giving him a decidedly slick appearance. His belly spilled over the waist of his underwear, his legs were stick thin. Jane's unruly mind kept telling her it was not his best look; he was better-looking covered up. God, she wanted to leave. She wanted to politely say that she had made a mistake, that she wasn't ready. But no one had prepared her for the graceful exit. She stood there, frozen in time, unable to make any moves, even the one that would save her. While she was still wondering what to do, Bruce made the move designed to win her. He removed the last of his clothes. Now, Jane was sure she wanted to run. It was her first glimpse of a man's cock and she was not impressed.

Bruce reclined on the bed again. His body was unappetizing. She knew that she could never want him, never feel comfortable lying against him. Still, Jane remained there, willing something to happen, hoping he would take control and ignite desire within her. 

Then Bruce did the only thing he knew to do; he caressed his cock. It wasn't erect, it just hung limply there, against his hairless thighs, the only bit of color on his body. Jane had an overwhelming urge to laugh at the entire situation. Suddenly, she was removed from it, as if viewing it from behind a two-way mirror. 

Jane watched as the naked guy stretched out on the unmade bed, his body pale, his hand busily stroking a cock that seemed happier asleep. She saw the girl, the very frightened girl, standing there, fully-clothed in layers that required lots of time to remove. If this had been a movie, the audience would have been laughing or booing. But it wasn't a movie, it was her life. Her sad little life. Then she remembered why she was here. She wanted to learn. She wanted to be a woman and Bruce was the only means available to her for that transformation.

Taking a deep breath, Jane began to reverse the morning's process. Unzip the dress and let it drop. Pull the proper white slip over her head. Stand there, mortified, in bra, girdle and hose. Sit down beside Bruce and unhook the stockings, trying to pull them off sexily, a la Mrs. Robinson, but looking clumsy and catching one stocking and creating a run in it. Standing again, rolling the panty girdle down, feeling all the flesh expand as it attained freedom. Now, Jane stood before him in her very serviceable white cotton bra and panties. Surely he would help her now. If he would just stand with her, kiss her, touch her gently and help her now, she could possibly get through this with some grace.

Of course, he didn't. He remained there, amidst the pillows and wrinkled sheets, stroking his cock, which seemed a little more alert, and waited. He still hadn't said anything, hadn't spoken her name, just watched as she fumbled through her initiation all alone. Jane wondered about the etiquette of it, should she remove the bra first, or the panties. She wished she had asked more questions, listened closer to her friends as they described various seductions. But then, she wasn't entirely sure this would even qualify as a seduction, and she felt enormously cheated.

She opted for removing the bra first. She reached behind and unclasped it, letting it drop down her arms and join her other clothes on the floor. Her nipples distended as the cool air hit them, and Bruce leered at them. He licked his lips in anticipation. Jane moved another step closer to the bed, hoping to drop the panties and jump under covers. She eyed the sheets, planning just how to grab them and shield herself.

With one swift motion, she had the panties off and was in the bed, safely under the top sheet. What she hadn't counted on was being skin to skin with Bruce. His body felt like his hands, soft and slightly damp. She recoiled, but there was really nowhere to go, unless she planned to leave the bed and she couldn't do that without being naked and exposed to his vision. 

Bruce leaned over her, kissed her once, his mouth soft and sloppy. Roughly, his hands were suddenly everywhere on her body. All his previous gentleness and patience seemed to have disappeared as he grabbed and clutched at her. His mouth opened over her nipple and he pulled it into his mouth, his teeth bruising her tender flesh. He swung over her, his body blocking her vision of anything else. He moved between her legs, pushing her thighs far apart. It hurt and it was embarrassing, to be so exposed. The sheet had disappeared and she felt the cool air hitting her body everywhere. Still, he didn't speak. 

Jane could feel something hard against her inner thigh, something wet and hot. Then Bruce shifted and, without warning, she felt something tearing her apart. She cried out, not in passion or delight, but with pain unlike any she had ever known. Bruce was nearly growling with concentration, his eyes closed, his mouth a slash. He moved into her, over and over, causing the pain to escalate to nearly unbearable heights. His hands were planted beside her, his hairless chest hovering over her face, nearly suffocating her. She closed her eyes and prayed this would be over soon, sure that this was the worst experience in her young life. 

Suddenly, he stiffened and howled loudly. Then she felt him jerking inside her, his entire body a mass of quivering flesh. She stared at him, sure that he was dying and wondering how she would ever get out from under him. Jane began to panic, and wanted nothing more than to claw his pale flesh, get him away from her. 

Then he sighed deeply and settled on her, his entire body damp and heavy against her. Jane's mind was whirling, wondering. She vaguely remembered her friends telling her that the 'afterglow' was wonderful, that it was their favorite part. Fervently, Jane prayed they had moved to the afterglow phase and that now they would cuddle and talk sweetly and things would improve.

Bruce lifted his heavy head from her chest. "Now," thought Jane, "now he will say nice things and make it all right." Instead, Bruce looked at her and announced that she wasn't the innocent girl she made herself out to be. He said he had been a medic in the army and he could tell she wasn't a virgin at all. 

Jane's first thought was what the hell being an army medic had to do with anything. Then she just wanted to cry when she realized there was to be no afterglow either. She ached and burned and was so embarrassed that she just wanted to die. Bruce went on to make more proclamations, then pulled himself from between her legs, saying he was going to shower. 

Jane was so grateful to be spared having to be naked in front of him again. She sat up, the pain between her legs seeming to double. She shakily stood, reaching for her underwear. The bedsheets were heavily stained with blood and she wanted to laugh. She quickly dressed, leaving off the girdle and hose, and left the bedroom. As she stuffed her underthings into her purse, she could hear the shower running, hear Bruce singing happily and loudly off-key. She never wanted to see him again.

She let herself out of the apartment and began the walk home. It wasn't a long walk by college standards; she and her friends walked everywhere. It was long because she felt that everyone who past her on the street knew what she had done, what she was.

When she arrived to the safety of her room, she gathered fresh clothes and went to the communal shower. Only then did she allow herself to cry.

Bruce



Eighteen year old Bruce's blue eyes drifted down to her round firm ass. She was standing more or less sideways on so he could only see one cheek. He had to suppress an urge to go in there and cup it. Just as this nasty thought was permeating his mind she turned away from him completely. Now he had a full on rear view and both cheeks sitting there so plump and inviting became too much for Bruce. He reached his hand down into his shorts and began to stroke his cock. It felt so hard, so good.

Unable to tear his eyes away he watched as she soaped her whole torso. He wished he could see her pussy. As if someone was listening to his thoughts his mother spread her legs and began to slowly wash down her left leg, all the way down to the calf. As she did so, she bent over and a glorious sight was revealed. First he saw her arsehole, small, pink and puckered. And as she bent further still her pussy then came in to view.

He had always wondered what it was like, whether it was smooth or hairy. Well, she had pussy hair but it was trimmed. He could see her pussy lips and they looked like nothing he had ever seen before. Instead of a tight little slit like the girls in the magazines he owned his mother's pussy lips were plump and swollen. Her inner labia poked out slightly from between a juicy looking pair of outer lips. It was as if her pussy was looking right at him willing him to touch it. 

Bruce closed his eyes and imagined sliding his cock into her delicious vagina. As he did so he was conscious that the noise of the shower had stopped. In a brief flash he opened his eyes and yanked his hand out of his shorts. She was turning around, turning towards him. He ducked out of view and tried to make it back to his room as quickly and as quietly as he could. He was fairly sure that he had got away with it. 

Inside his room, the door safely closed, he let out a long breath. His heart was racing and his cock was still throbbing. He needed release and he needed it instantly. He reached under his bed and brought out a shoebox. Ripping off the lid, he took out a porn magazine, something he had not looked at in the last two weeks. That was because of the treasure that lay underneath. Reaching into the box, he pulled out a pair of black lace panties. They were his mother's black lace panties.

In a fit of lust, he had swiped them out of her laundry basket two weeks ago. He had looked through the whole basket for the sexiest juiciest pair of panties while his mother was busy downstairs. These ones had satisfied him on both counts. Made of flimsy black lace and they were cut high on the thigh and would look unbelievably sexy on a woman, especially on her. But what had really attracted him were the white stains on the gusset, his mother's pussy juice. As he lifted it to his nose it smelt fantastic - sweet, musky and heady all at the same time.

Bruce gripped his throbbing cock in one hand and lifted the panties to his face with the other. As he inhaled the beautiful smell his mind lingered on the image of his mother's pussy that was still emblazoned on his retina. His hand jerked faster and faster on his cock and he felt his balls begin to tighten. He imagined his cock sliding in and out of that warm, tight, swollen pussy. He felt himself on the edge and before he could stop himself he buried the end of his cock in the panties. It was as if his cock needed to touch her pussy. Unable to hold back he began to cum spurting wave after wave of thick spunk into his mother's panties with a barely suppressed groan. 

As he finished he looked down at what he had done. The panties were dripping with his thick white cum, there was no way that he would be able to sneak them back into the basket without his mother noticing when she came to wash them. Hurriedly, he hurled them on the floor near his bed, pulled on his shorts and poked his head out of his bedroom door.

His mother was out of the bathroom now so he dashed in there to clean himself up. He jumped in the shower letting the warm water soothe his body. While drying himself he made up his mind to throw her panties away. Hopefully his mother would never realise what had happened to them. Getting dressed, he opened the bathroom door just in time to see his mother fully clothed and coming out of his bedroom.

"What are you doing?" Bruce stammered.

"I'm getting all the glasses out of your room mister," She replied.

"Honestly, you'd think they would find their own way to the dishwasher." With a smile, she was off walking down the stairs in her sashaying walk with a hint of pregnant waddle that drove him crazy.

Bruce dashed to his room and looked for the panties. They were still there, thank God. While they were not quite under the bed, they were nearly under it. They weren't that visible he told himself. In fact she probably hadn't noticed them at all. Or else she would have said something, wouldn't she?

All through dinner his mother was acting completely normal. She was talking about her day, bitching about his step-dad's new girlfriend. She must not have noticed the panties, he thought with some relief. Although at one point he did look up from his dinner and catch her looking at him, her head slightly tilted to the side and a quizzical look on her face. But that must have been nothing. She wouldn't have let him get away with it if she had known.

After dinner, with his little sister in bed, his mother followed her usual routine and went upstairs to her room for half an hour. Bruce had no idea what she did up there, but she always came down looking relaxed and almost fulfilled. This time however, after five minutes he heard her stomping up and down on the landing. 

"Bruce." She yelled.

"Err, what Mom?" He replied fearing that somehow he was in trouble over her panties.

"Do you know where your father keeps the fuses? I can't find one anywhere." She yelled down at him again.

"I've no idea. I'll have a look. What is it for anyway?" Bruce asked her climbing the stairs.

"My breast pump, now that your sister only likes to bottle feed I have to get rid of my milk and my pump is broken, so will you help me look?" She asked with a hint of irritation in her voice.

"Ok" Bruce replied.

They spent the next half an hour turning the house upside down, but the best they could find was an empty packet.

"I always knew he was a useless bastard" She moaned, frustration etched all over her face.

"Oh well, I'll just have to hold on until morning and get some from the store." Stomping back into her bedroom and shutting the door behind her.

That night, Bruce woke at around three in the morning. Stumbling out of bed he tiptoed to the bathroom to take a piss. As he passed his mother's bedroom, the door was ajar and he could hear what sounded like sobbing, tinged with groaning. 

"Mom? Are you ok?" He called to her.

"Yes, go back to bed." She snapped at him.

Bruce went for a piss and went back to bed. But he couldn't sleep with wondering about what had upset his mother. After about twenty minutes he had made up his mind to go and check on her when he heard an almost imperceptible tap at his door. He held his breath and listened.

"Bruce? Are you awake? I need help?" He heard her call from the other side of his bedroom door.

He sprang out of bed and opened his door, his eyes completely unprepared for the sight before him. His mother stood framed in his doorway, her chest heaving and her face flushed. Her hair was wild and unkempt and her lips were pouted in frustration. She was wearing red maternity pyjamas, strained around the middle of her rounded belly. Unable to help himself Bruce stole a quick glance down at her heaving breasts and was amazed at what he saw. There was a dark wet patch on each breast, with the outline of a plump nipple beneath each one. 

"I'm so sorry Bruce I don't know what to do, I've just realised that tomorrow is Sunday and the stores won't be open and I'm in so much pain, I just don't know if I can..." His mother said following the line of his gaze.

And with that she flung her arms around his shoulders and began to sob into his shoulder. Bruce stood rooted to the spot. At first all he was aware of was the heat of her breasts pressing against his chest, intermingled with the cold of the wet patches on the front of each one. As if on autopilot he put his arms around her and pulled her towards him holding her tight against him. As she continued to sob gently Bruce suddenly became aware that his cock was stirring. Just before it pressed into her he broke away from her.

"What can I do Mom? Can I help in any way?" Bruce asked concerned. 

"There's nothing that you can do son. My machine is broken, but I need to get this milk out." She said. 

"There's so much in there, I'm so tender and swollen. Your sister won't take any more of it, I just don't know what I can do." She said standing there with tears falling down her cheeks.

The thought must have entered both of their heads at the same time. Bruce wanted it, but he couldn't say it. Could he? Their eyes met. She looked deep into his eyes.

"Bruce....Could you help me?" She asked.

He stood rooted to the spot. His mind was screaming yes. 

"I'll help you, I'll bury my face in those spectacular mounds and drink them dry." Was all he could manage was a weak nod.

His mother turned and walked back to her bedroom with Bruce following behind her as if he was in a trance. Neither of them spoke, as if words would somehow bring reality crashing back. She lay down on the bed and motioned for Bruce to lie down next to her. She looked away as if she was ashamed to look him in the eye, ashamed at what they both knew was about to happen.

She slowly unbuttoned her pyjama top and let one side fall away. Her right breast was exposed, looking pale and succulent in the moonlight that streamed in between the curtains. As Bruce looked closer he could see the nipple was taught, almost straining with a small drop of white milk dangling from the end. 

Bruce wanted to touch it, he wanted to suck it, but he couldn't move. After what seemed like a lifetime his mother brought her eyes up to meet his. As she looked deep into his eyes she reached up and guided his head down towards her breast. At the last moment he opened his lips and took her nipple into his mouth.

He held it there for a second, savouring how hard and engorged it was. The feeling of her hot breast pressing into his face was unbelievable. Then he began to suck. A barely audible sigh of pleasure escaped his mother's lips as she settled back into the pillows to seek relief from her torment.

Bruce sucked and sucked feeling the warm jets of milk spray into his mouth. It tasted sweeter than he thought it would and even quite nice. But what he was really enjoying was being able to suck his mother's tit. Doing something which he had only ever dreamed of and had never imagined he would ever actually be doing.

His cock was harder than it had ever been before, straining at the flimsy shorts that he slept in. All he wanted to do was pounce on her and to stuff it in her mouth or between her tits, anywhere in that hot pregnant body of hers.

After a while he began to grow bolder. He could hear his mother's breathing, quick and shallow. He carried on sucking but gently brushed his tongue against the end of the nipple. He immediately felt his mother's body tense up. The nipple swelled further in his mouth, and he heard a sharp intake of breath. But she said nothing.

Spurred on by this, a minute or so later he licked it again, swirling his tongue around the swollen teat. His mother tensed again, but still she did nothing. So he licked it more, sucking it and twirling it around his tongue, letting his tongue run all around the puckered flesh of her areola. 

All of a sudden she pulled his head away from her. Fearing he had crossed a line, Bruce was unable to meet her gaze. 

"I need you to do the other one now honey." She said, her voice seeming somewhat deeper and huskier than normal.

Bruce grinned and moved closer on the bed. Where previously he had been lying next to her, their position on the bed meant that he had to crouch in between her legs to access her left breast. As he did so his mother removed her pyjama top.

"Well you've seen them both anyway I might as well be comfortable." She giggled.

Bruce took in the sight before him. His mother lying topless in her red satin pyjama bottoms her beautiful rounded belly poking out over the top and her massive breasts rising up and down with each breath. Her swollen brown nipples were standing proudly to attention. He lowered his lips to the other breast and began to suck. Soon he was licking, sucking and doing his utmost to pleasure his mother to fulfil his fantasies.

Her breathing had become faster. Where she had seemed so relaxed before her body was tensed and her back arched. All of a sudden Bruce smelt something familiar. He realised that it was the smell of his mother's panties. He could smell her pussy, this was turning her on! The thought sent a quiver of electricity down his body and his cock felt as if it would explode. 

He began to lick and suck faster even beginning to brush his teeth against her nipple. The faster he licked and sucked the quicker she breathed and the stronger the sweet musky odour became. It felt as if the air was thick with it, was thick with the combined sum of their lust.

Without even realising what he was doing Bruce shifted his position slightly so that his thigh was in between her legs and pressed up against her pussy. He thought of the image of her pussy bent over in the shower, those puffy swollen lips and now they were pressed against his leg and only separated only by a thin layer of satin.

A few minutes passed with neither of them moving as Bruce carried on sucking. Then Bruce realised that he was moving ever so slightly. He was rubbing his thigh against his mother's pussy and what was more he could feel her hips gently grinding against his leg. He went a bit faster and so did she. Emboldened by this Bruce reached up and cupped her other breast giving it a gentle squeeze. As his fingers found her nipple and pinched it, a low moan escaped her lips. She arched her back and pressed into him harder than before and slumped back into the pillows. He had made her cum.

This was turning her on just as much as it was him. The thought of this was so horny, so overwhelming that Bruce lost all control. Before he realised what was going on his cock began to jerk and spasm. The best orgasm of his life was ripping through his body and shooting out of his cock. Eyes still closed he felt her tense up from him and her hands moving his head from her breast. Opening his eyes he looked down at his cock. At some point it must have escaped his shorts and it was sticking out in front of him more engorged than ever before firing jets of hot spunk straight out in front of him and onto his mom.

They both froze as wave after wave of spunk flew from his cock and landed on her swollen belly. One spurt made it as far as her breast sliding slowly and seductively down its shapely form. It was as if a spell had broken.

"I'm sorry Bruce, this wasn't a good idea." She mumbled grabbing at her pyjama top and covering her-self up.

"I knew that you had thoughts about me, I saw you watching me in the bathroom the other day, I know you took my panties and used them." She said her face a deep crimson.

Bruce said nothing, feeling the shame burning in his face.

"It's OK honey." She soothed.

"It's not your fault, It's natural to find any women attractive at your age, even your mother, I must admit I do find it kind of flattering." She smiled.

"But it's naughty so tomorrow I'll try and take care of boobs myself and then Monday I'll go to the store and get my pump fixed." She said feeling a little sorry for her son.

The next day both of them carried on as if nothing had ever happened. After dinner his mother went upstairs to her room. Only this time he knew what she would be doing. He imagined her sitting there, her beautiful tits straining to release their sweet nectar. How he wished that it could be him up there helping her, loving her, pleasuring her.

After half an hour Bruce knew that she didn't need him so he was surprised to hear her call his name.

"Bruce? I'm sorry honey I just can't do it on my own, would you mind helping me again?" He heard her say as a huge smile crossed his lips and he was took the stairs two at a time to get to her.



Bruce & Carrie & Travis & Annika



"I now pronounce you, husband and wife!" the portly, good-natured minister declared.

Everyone cheered wildly and applauded as loudly as they could. Jacqueline, a recovering post-operative transsexual woman, reflected on the eighteen months that had passed since they all knew that there was love in the air in their support group, and how they had come to be here today. She grinned broadly at the delighted couple, and at their mutual friends who had served as best man and matron of honour. They were all happy and revelled in the fact of being in love with life and each other.

It hadn't always been like that though, and Jacqueline thought some more about that time; and shook her head. She could not have scripted this better had she done so herself. 

***

"Hello everyone! My name is Bruce, but if you come to see me at work at The Cave in Montego Bay, you'll see the divine, Miss Davinia!"

Jacqueline looked up from her blackberry and smiled at Bruce.

"Hello Bruce; welcome!" she intoned along with everyone else, somewhat amused.

There were only four other people at the meeting the first night that Bruce Lewis joined the support group. Carrie Tang, Travis Peynado and Annika Karlsdottir were all old hands at this; Jacqueline Conway had joined the group more recently after undergoing two years of gender corrective surgery and moving back to her island homeland. Although respected as a vast resource to the group, she had not been included in the clique's inner circle despite the fact that they had been very friendly and welcoming.  

Everyone smiled at Bruce. They all knew that he would soon become more quietly interested. That enthusiasm and the fact that they were all smart, professional people who sometimes cross-dressed at nights and on weekends, and who were considering going the whole way and undergoing operations with a view to becoming the people who lived beneath their skins, were what they had in common.

Carrie, a former psychologist, now artist with an important solo exhibition in New York under her belt, was the first to speak beyond the cursory welcome.

"Nice start, Bruce. Would you like to continue?"

Bruce hesitated. It was obvious that he had not rehearsed this beyond his opening salvo. Carrie was a kind woman though, and she was sure that after her change she would be friends with people like Bruce: the sweet and vulnerable.

"Would you prefer it if we all introduced ourselves to you first before you told us your story? It might make you more comfortable to talk to friends."

"Thank you," Bruce whispered.

Jacqueline introduced herself next, and could see that Bruce looked at her with reverence, the others with respect. She was the only person in the group who had as yet actually gone through with sexual reassignment surgery, though that was the plan for everyone. Jacqueline's profession was vague. She freelanced and was an advocate for transgender rights on the island. 

"Annika?" Carrie said after Jacqueline was done speaking.

"Hello everyone, I'm Annika." The voice was heavily accented. She seemed to be genuinely Scandinavian; interesting in a place like Jamaica.

"Welcome back, Annika," Carrie and Travis said encouragingly.

It was clear that they really had become friendly with each other.

"I'm a business woman on my own now. My little bed-and-breakfast is doing very well and we had our first long-term reservation this week! Someone called booking all our rooms for a family gathering at Christmas. I was very gratified! She said that she had stayed with us before and that she found our inn delightful. She was planning to bring her relatives from overseas to stay with us while they explored their ancestral home and reconnected with loved ones here."

Everyone applauded. Annika beamed.

"It is very gratifying to be able to live as I choose. I have done it in this area of my life and I want to go further. My soon-to-be-ex-husband does not understand this about me. He has tried to turn my children against me. That I want to be a man does not mean that I am rejecting him, or that I'm gay or that I need to be killed as he threatened to do! It just means that I am embracing my true self. I have been unhappy about Marvin's attitude, but I suppose I understand it. I hope that you have a better time than I have had, Bruce."

Travis and Carrie murmured quiet support. It was only his pride that had prevented Annika's husband from exposing her plans to the world precipitously. They had discussed the probable need for all of them to make plans to leave the island permanently after their change. Exile was something that none of them had considered before joining the group, but now being older and wiser they would help this enthusiastic newbie. Jacqueline's public profile had brought mixed results, but she was a start that everyone appreciated.

Bruce shuffled in his chair, a flush on his face. Jacqueline was sympathetic. Annika had singled him out. She had had that effect on Travis in the early days, and on many of the other men who popped in and out of the group. In all, there were about a dozen of them on the island that they knew of, who were considering gender reassignment. Annika was an incredibly beautiful woman who could have been an international supermodel if she wanted, but who wanted instead to be a man. Even for someone also wanting to be a transsexual man herself, Carrie had confided in Jacqueline that she couldn't fully understand Annika's decision. Jacqueline had found that revelation interesting.

"May I ask questions?" Bruce croaked.

"Certainly," Annika said, smiling encouragingly.

That was unwise, because Bruce obviously lost his nerve again after Annika spoke to him. Annika's needs had nothing to do with not cutting it as a successful woman. None of them were unsuccessful in life, they were just unhappy with some snippet of the life that God had given them. Annika had said in the group that it was no different from other women wanting bigger breasts. Of course, it was much more complicated than that, but Carrie had told everyone that she had used that line on her sister when she had explained her plans to her, and got the laugh that helped to get them both through the conversation.

"It's nothing! I-I just wanted to clarify the rules of engagement here," Bruce stammered.

"Well may I ask you a question, Bruce?" Travis asked.

"Y-yes."

"What do you do when you're not being The Divine Miss Davinia?"

"I'm a lawyer."

"Are you planning to continue in your career?"

"I haven't come to a decision about that. I've been moonlighting at The Cave on the North Coast, and I'm quite popular there. It's as if I become a different person. I feel so alive! I feel braver, more confident in who I am. It's funny really. I take the stage in the courtroom; and I do alright," Bruce was breathless as he hastened to reassure them of his competence. 

"But nobody knows the fear that I have to punch through to get to my feet and do my work. I'd say that I'm naturally shy," his voice dipped as if even saying that about himself cost him something. "Yet, I sing and dance and do a strip tease as Miss Davinia and I feel none of that! I just can't explain it! I want to be her all the time. So, yes, I suppose I'm leaning toward leaving the law. I have to wait to see if I am more comfortable being a woman in other situations."

"You haven't gone out in public as a woman except for when you're being Miss Davinia?"

"I have a few times, but I was worried about what my neighbours would think."

No one said anything, and in the awkward pause that settled on the company, Bruce stopped talking and looked around suspiciously at everyone. Jacqueline noticed how his body folded in and guessed that if they didn't act quickly this would be his last meeting with them. Carrie obviously noticed it too.

"I think that you should go out more as a woman," Carrie said, cheerfully. "Remember that you've told your doctor that you want to be a woman full-time and that is why you're here with us in this group today. Don't let anyone second-guess your decision. What you do is not your neighbours' business. I think that you'd be quite a head-turner. I think that your new-found confidence will attract good people to your life; and to yours too Annika," she said turning to the woman on her left. 

"You don't have to leave the law if you don't want to. Annika was a hotelier in a large chain before she opened her own place. The point about this is to do exactly what you want to do with your life."

Jacqueline could see that Carrie carefully watched Bruce relax as she spoke. She smiled. Carrie really ought to consider staying in psychology and forget art, Jacqueline thought. These people needed her. They all did.

"Travis? Would you like to introduce yourself to Bruce next?" Carrie asked, taking charge again, as she seemed to do naturally.

"Sure. I'm Travis. I'm a doctor, and I intend to continue to practice medicine."

Everyone smiled.

At 50, Travis was the oldest member in the group. He had had a phenomenally successful career in trauma work and research at a large teaching hospital. He had won every accolade, married well, divorced and had three successful children; but since none of these trophies made him very happy, he had gone into therapy to see what the problem was. He and his current live-in partner, Jill, were surprised, but not overly so, when Travis admitted to himself, finally, that he wanted to be a woman called Francine.

Jill and the children had been very supportive. Surprisingly so, Travis had said. They had said that they were only saddened that Travis had lived for so long without being truly happy. Travis adored his family. He had always done so, but their support of his decision had made him even more in love with them all. He had struggled with the implications that his decision would have on their lives. In the end he and Jill had decided to share a home even after Travis' change. They were best friends. They had been passionate lovers in the early years but that had simmered down into a comfortable companionship that neither felt needed to change. Slam dunk!

"So how will you feel if Jill decides to date someone after your change?" Carrie asked gently.

Travis froze. The room went quiet again.

"I am not married," Bruce offered, tentatively. "It took me a long while to sort out my head space on this. I actually came out to a few of my closest friends as being gay before I realised what I really wanted."

Carrie and Annika turned to look at him, and away from the pensive Travis.

"But who ever heard of a gay lawyer in Jamaica? Homosexuality is still illegal though times are changing now. I was talking about all this with a friend who told me that her office at UWI did not hire someone who was a recovering post-operative transsexual once. She thought it unfair, and that the lady was being discriminated against, but she was not in a position to influence the decision about it. I know that I can count on her support for my decision, but I don't think that I really have anyone else in my corner."

Annika grunted understanding.

"I don't even know how that will happen for me now; marriage and a family."

"Nonsense! You are a very attractive person!" Annika interjected, in her clipped accent. "You will make a very pretty woman, and men will like you. Who knows, I might even marry you myself!"

Bruce smiled. It was clear that he did not want to seem to be laughing at her, but it was equally obvious that he found Annika's prophesy funny. Women like her didn't look at men like him, even now. He didn't feel that he had enough machismo.

"Would it be possible for all of us to come next week dressed as we really see ourselves?" Carrie asked, suddenly.

Everyone agreed; and so it was that Gustav, Bettinia, Taylor and Francine came to the meeting the next week. Jacqueline had no need to come as anyone else. She was already completely invested in the process; but she wouldn't have missed this for the world.

***

"Hello everyone, I'm Taylor Tang," Carrie said. "Perhaps it would be helpful if we all introduced ourselves."

She turned toward Bruce.

"Hello everyone, I'm Bettinia Evans, formerly Bruce Lewis. I've been thinking about it since last week and I think that a complete break from the past would do me some good; so I'm not going to call myself Bettinia Lewis, and I'm not staying in the law," he said shyly.

"Hello, I'm Gustav Karlsson," Annika said, unwittingly brusquely, her thick accent clipping her words harshly. 

Jacqueline stifled a smile when she saw Bruce sit back a bit. She found it amusing when he put his hands in his lap casually. Jacqueline and Carrie exchanged brief glances and tried hard not to look at his groin. For the first time since the previous week, Jacqueline considered Annika's joking proposal and wondered if there was a future for a couple from within the group. Life could be damn unfair. People like Annika always landed on their feet, didn't they?

"I am Francine Peynedo-O'Rielley," Travis said languidly, cutting across Jacqueline's jealous thoughts. "I've decided to use my mother's maiden name as well, from now on. It will help Jill to explain me if she cares to; it should also keep some of the sharks at bay, and it will be a link to my past, I think."

Jacqueline had noticed that Francine had shaved her legs. She wore low-heeled sensible shoes, but looked very elegant sitting there with her legs tuned under the chair. It almost masked her amused smirks at the Bruce and Annika drama playing out in the room, and her good-humoured understanding with Carrie that they would mock the world together. Jacqueline wondered if there would be any chance at all for Carrie's Taylor with Francine after their change. Bruce and Annika were giving her hope. Some people, and she was hoping that Travis was one of them, went for the androgynous Asian look that Carrie carried so well. Jacqueline hoped that her increased confidence when she became Taylor full-time would help Carrie to find a life partner where her previous career success had not. Jacqueline decided that she really liked Carrie and that she would like Taylor too after Carrie's surgeries.

"Is it too early to suggest that we go out as a group for drinks, and see how we feel?" Taylor asked an hour into their meeting.

Everyone agreed, and so they found themselves as a little group of friends at one of Kingston's hottest night spots, for a more discerning crowd. They had all been there before, and Jacqueline was amused that the others were awed by the fact that no one recognised them. The live band played a nice reggae-jazz fusion to which Taylor shyly asked Francine to dance, after a discrete nudge from Jacqueline, while they waited for their meals to arrive. It was obviously surprising to Carrie to be accepted, and Jacqueline was pleased to see that Carrie learned something else about her preparedness for being a man: she really had to be more assertive. Annika had it down pat. She was already a Gustav, Jacqueline thought. Jacqueline wondered if she would dare to bring up this epiphany at their next meeting, but decided instead that it would be best for Carrie as Taylor to discover this for himself. Jacqueline had not forgotten Carrie's comment about not understanding Annika's decision to become a man even as she had made the same decision herself. Jacqueline decided that she was going to have to find a way to drop a word that each of them needed to go out more in public as their new selves, and see how they really felt about their impending changes.

By the time Taylor and Francine returned to the table Gustav and Bettinia were already firm friends, playing mischievous footsy under the table. Taylor and Francine exchanged startled looks. Jacqueline just smirked back at them. That was fast! Jacqueline couldn't decide how she felt about this, since it was Carrie's often-expressed view that one ought not to make too many major decisions in tandem with a decision as large as the one about gender reassignment. Jacqueline endorsed that belief. 

"What's happening, guys? Bruce? Annika?" Carrie asked, accusingly.

"Nothing! We're just getting to know each other," Gustav remarked. "We've decided that we're going to be there for each other. Bettinia will hold my hand through my surgeries, and I will hold hers through hers. Neither of us has the family support that you two do, but it seems as if we don't need it after all since we have each other now."

Francine smiled kindly, but Carrie seemed angry. Jacqueline was interested in that reaction. She had always thought of herself as being a good judge of character and she believed that Carrie was interested in Travis and that she would be in love in Francine even after becoming Taylor, but now she wondered if she had been mistaken and that Carrie had been interested in Annika all this time.

"What are you doing, Annika?" Carrie cried. "You know that Bruce can't make big changes on top of this very big change that he's about to make!"

"Forgive me, but it seems to be you who is confused about whether you want to be Carrie or Taylor," Gustav said in Annika's usual forthright manner. "Bettinia and I are comfortable with our decisions. You have spent so much time analysing and helping the rest of us that you have forgotten to sort out your own feelings, my friend. You haven't even been able to remember to call us Gustav and Bettinia while on this outing, and it was your idea that we do this."

This was true. Jacqueline had noticed it as well. Francine signalled to both women to tone their voices down. Although the music was loud, the place was crowded, and their conversation would probably soon begin to attract interested stares if it continued for much longer. Francine needn't have worried though, because no one was in a very talkative mood after the confrontation between Carrie and Annika's Gustav.

***

Carrie did not return to the meetings for three weeks after that. A surprisingly despondent Travis had called her, and been told that she just needed a little time to sort out some "stuff". It was strange not to have her around. She really was the recognised and, until now, unacknowledged leader of the group. Jacqueline did not want to be the leader even though she had the most experience with the process. She had served in the capacity as "advisor" and was happy with that since she believed that she was allowing the others to find their own voices. 

Jacqueline found it interesting that it was Carrie who had the psychological training to help her friends, yet it seemed that she was having the most difficult time of them all to adjust her thinking. As a doctor, Travis felt it his duty to try to fill in for Carrie's absence. Although not a psychologist, he knew enough to know that the group needed to mourn Carrie's loss. Beyond that, Annika and Bruce needed to understand that Carrie's withdrawal was ultimately, not their fault. Transmen and transwomen linked up all the time, and it was sweet that they had formed a strong friendship before their truly rough days of surgical gender correction, and recovery, began.

One man rejoined the group. Jacqueline reflected that they had last seen him six months ago, long before they met Bruce and knew about Carrie's doubts. They were not sure about him; Jacqueline suspected that he was a journalist looking for a story, and said so to the others, and so no one opened a discussion about their problem with Carrie for several weeks. Then Francine lingered after the meeting one night, and invited Bruce, Jacqueline and Annika for drinks after their session. Francine explained that Carrie had been in touch and that they had resolved some of her issues. Francine asked if anyone would have a problem with Carrie rejoining their little group.

Annika told the others that she and Bruce had decided to marry as soon as her divorce from Marvin came through and that they would remarry after they became Gustav and Bettinia and her birth certificate was fixed in Uppsala and his was in Kingston. They knew that it was a quick decision, but it felt right and they were sure that it was for the best. Francine was quiet for the rest of the evening, reflective.




Bruce & Carrie & Travis & Annika



***

The romance between Francine and Taylor was conducted fairly quietly given the degree to which they had become friends. After Carrie's shy return one evening four weeks after her sudden departure Jacqueline had noticed that Francine had become very protective of the enigmatic Asian. Travis helped her move when she needed him; he accompanied her to her cousin's wedding in Miami and she returned the favour at his father's funeral where she sat with Jill and her new companion, and Travis' children at his invitation. There had been quiet cups of coffee to which no one else was invited, dinner, theatre and dancing. Jacqueline had found out about the theatre and dancing only after she had actually seen them together on the town a couple of evenings when she was out and about herself. She suspected that there may even have been a threesome with Jill once, but she could not be sure about this since the whispers and veiled grins that the couple exchanged were not enough to go by definitively. She had noted the fact that Carrie, as a far more confident Taylor, and Francine, were often to be seen chatting quietly to each other, and that they had inside jokes that no one else understood. Incredibly, their affair had apparently gone on for months before she had seen them together!

They were so discrete about it that no one else seemed to notice, though they were otherwise engaged, and Jacqueline realised that she had become aware of the fact that Francine and Taylor had become a couple only because she was an experienced novelist and social activist and so was accustomed to watching the people and situations around her. She had been conducting research with a view to writing a romance novel set in Jamaica's transsexual community for months, and her companions in the support group had been as interesting as she could have hoped -- even that beady little man whom she had had to torpedo, was fodder for her mill.

Through Carrie she had got the self-doubt; through Travis as Francine and Carrie as Taylor, the happily ever after that everyone wanted; through the sex-starved Bruce and Annika dyad she had got the lust that she needed to make hers a truly complex and poignant tale. She hoped that things would only get better as they helped each other through the next few years. She had cast herself in the role of mysterious outsider and hoped to serve as the protagonist of her saga. Life was good.

***

It was a year to the day since Carrie had returned to the group as a fully-functioning, well-adjusted member. Travis had invited everyone to celebratory drinks at their usual jazz club. He had come to the meeting that night as Travis, a bit of a surprise to everyone who had come to accept him as Francine. He proposed to Carrie that night at the group meeting, just as Gustav had done to Bettinia three months earlier, after Annika's bitter divorce had been granted by the courts. Seeing him get down on one knee before a shocked Taylor, and everyone else for that matter, except Jacqueline, had been priceless. She had broken character for the first time in a year and squealed her consent in the manner of the Carrie of old. 

Travis swept her into his arms and kissed her in a way that made Jacqueline's clit jump. She wondered how soon it would be before they saw Francine again. Travis was a man in a hurry and she expected to hear wedding bells very soon. The beady little man stared, open-mouthed, and Jacqueline reflected that she had just found someone new to study for her next novel: a tale of industrial espionage set in the Jamaican transsexual community.

"Hello Ralph," she said to him. "Would you care to dance?" 



Bruce Don't Go There



I'm not an author, this is for Scott,

I was 21. Worked for the telephone company at the time. Bruce, yeah that was his real name, was one of my best friends. We had dated girls who were roommates at the U. I'd known him for about three years. He was a funny fucker. Wild man, and we had a blast. When we broke up with the girls we kind of drifted.

Diane was the girl I had dated. We got engaged when we were in our first year of college.

Anyway, I called Bruce up because I had to go to a wedding in Bumfuck Egypt, and wanted some company. Plus we hadn't seen each other in quite awhile.

I picked him up, he lived about an hour away and we drove to the wedding. On the way there he filled me in on what had happened to Diane after the break-up. She'd gone off the deep end for maybe six months. Party girl. Smoked dope, did other drugs as well, and slept around. Evidently a lot. She'd only had sex with me before the break up. He told me about three guys that I knew that she'd screwed, and although he never said as much, I know he'd had her as well.

I felt pretty bad, I had no idea. He also told me about getting busted for drug possession when he was in California. Ask me about a drug, and I can tell you about it, was the way he phrased it.

After the wedding we headed to the Czech Festival in a small town about 20 miles from his place. At this point we'd started drinking and continued through the rest of the evening. As is often the case he had the chance to hook up with one of the girls we met, but her girlfriend and I couldn't get anything going. We gave it up and headed back to the big city, hit a couple of bars and decided it just wasn't gonna happen.

I was way too hammered to drive home so I was gonna sleep at his place. He produced his bong and wanted to smoke some dope. Now, I'd only smoked dope twice before, and it just put me to sleep. I found out later I was allergic to hemp. I told him no a couple of times, and finally figured, "what the hell," I was ready to go to bed anyway.

After a couple of hits I was in la-la land. He had a pull out couch, which is where we were laying watching t.v. and shooting the shit. I knew I was going to fall asleep shortly plus my tongue wasn't working right anymore. He was already in his jockeys, and I stripped down to mine.

Now I wore really cool underwear at the time if I thought there was a chance I might get lucky. So I had on a pair of bright blue nylon briefs. They had a snap on each hip that held them in place. The girls liked them. Bruce had shut the t.v. off, and put some terrible music on that he liked. 

It was right about then that things went south. He had a rolled up newspaper and he started to keep time to the music tapping the newspaper against my thigh. Then he said something along the line of, "you've got really nice legs for a guy." I said, "yeah, they're babe killers," or something like that.

Then he said, "You know what you need Terry? You need a good butt-fucking."

Some alarm bells went off, but I really thought he was just screwing with me. I told him, "Yeah right, fuck off Bruce."

If he said anything after that I don't remember it. I must have passed out, dozed off, whatever, but when I came around he'd unsnapped my briefs, and was playing with my penis. I was naked. Hopelessly fucked up as I was I tried to talk, although that was just incoherent muttering, and attempted to push him away.

Huge joke. I was 5" taller and outweighed him by at least 20 lbs. I might as well have been a five year old. He flipped me over and lubed my ass up with his finger. It was Vaseline. I don't know if it was close by or he'd gotten it while I was passed out.

He yanked me up at the waist, and stuffed a couch pillow underneath me.

Shit. I wasn't a homophobe, but I didn't want anything to do with this. Nobody chooses to be gay. Why would you with all the shit, no pun intended, you're going to have to put up with. I knew without question that I was not gay.

Bruce wasn't gay. Definitely bi, and this was most definitely not the first time he'd engaged in this sort of entertainment.

I'd like to be more detailed about what happened next, but it's pretty hazy. It didn't hurt. I'm pretty sure that as fucked up as I was you could have hit me with a hammer, and it wouldn't have hurt.

I know he talked to me, and it wasn't to tell me what a nice guy I was. I know that he was nice enough to do a "wrap around." He greased my penis up, and started stroking me at some point. I remember thinking it was all a dream and I'd wake up soon. I know somebody was moaning. Probably both of us.

He came in my virgin ass, and I came on the sheets. I don't know who came first.

Then I passed out.

Later, don't know if it was an hour, or three hours, I came to. I looked down between my legs and there was Bruce sucking on my very hard cock. Now up until this point I could honestly say that I was just flat assed raped. Fuck. I was hard, and when he realized I was awake, he started talking to me about what a tight ass I had, and what a good fuck I was, how he was right about me needing a good butt-fucking, I must have enjoyed it as I'd cum all over the sheets, etc.

I still wasn't quite right, but I could have put up a fairly decent defense at this point. Instead I let him move up my body, and he presented me with his semi-hard cock. He was maybe a little bigger then I. He was stroking my penis with his hand at that point, and he rubbed his cock around my mouth for a little bit. I opened my mouth. He had cleaned his cock off after the taking my cherry. That simple. Nothing forced about it. I sucked, and licked it while he continued to play with me.

He pulled out, and now we were making out. Sometimes that's what bothers me the most. I was French kissing a guy. He was rubbing his cock against my penis. Then he started playing with my penis again, and when my moaning indicated I was close he stuck his cock back in my mouth.

I didn't comprehend what was happening when the first jet hit the back of my throat, but I did before the second. I don't know. I gagged for a moment, and then I just swallowed like it was the most natural thing in the world. People talk about a salty taste, but I remember it as benign, no taste. Which might have had something to do with my taste buds being pretty much shot from the booze and dope. It also pushed me over the edge, and I shot my load over my own stomach. He kept his dick in my mouth until it got soft, and I continued to suck on it until he pulled it out.

He got up, said he was going to bed, and actually said, good night. Damn decent of him.

I didn't go back to sleep. I lay there until about six in the morning, quietly got dressed, and left. I couldn't find my underwear.

I saw him one time after that. He was invited to my wedding. My wife knew we'd been friends, and that we hadn't seen each other in along time so he was invited. He showed up, brought a gift, we chatted very briefly, and that's the last time I ever saw him.

I did talk to Diane at the wedding, and told her just the first part of story where Bruce said I needed the butt fucking and asked her if she was aware that he was bi. She looked at me like I was nuts, and said, "Bruce, no way." At least I knew he hadn't told the entire world about our bonding experience, and no pictures ever surfaced. If he took any they must be stored with my bikinis. Damn, I really liked that pair of underwear too.  



Bruce: The Good Samaritan



DISCLAIMERS:

[This is a work of fiction. The story is an unadulterated and unabashed attempt to tickle male fantasies and perhaps some female fantasies as well. It is a fantasy and as such, the story may or may not conform entirely with reality. But isn't that the whole point of fantasies? With historical exceptions, all other locations, events, and characters are entirely fictitious and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.]

I do not practice nor do I condone any of the sexual acts about which I write, other than straight, heterosexual relationships. Beside the fact that most other forms of sexual behavior are illegal, I still don't judge consenting adults for their sexual preferences except where such behavior is hurtful/harmful to others, such as pedophilia.

None-the-less, many people have FANTASIES of such taboo laden behavior to achieve sexual gratification or whatever, but have no intentions whatsoever of carrying out such behavior in actual practice. That said, if I have struck a particular fantasy of yours, read and enjoy.

CHARACTERS:

Bruce Jetson........................................Lead male character, thirty-five, widowed

Jim & Sue Jetson...................................parents of Bruce

Samantha (Sam) Hicks............................Lead female character, twenty-four, Bruce helps in snowstorm

Tracy Hicks..........................................Samantha's baby

Donna Jones.........................................Mother of Samantha

************

I was on I-57, two hours south of Chicago, the city where I had started. I wished I hadn't, started that is. My watch said it was only four in the afternoon, but the clouds and the blowing snow made it appear much, much later. The going seemed to be getting worse.

My vehicle was the only reason I even considered to stay on the road, that and the fact I had promised my folks in Florida that I would be there for Christmas day dinner.

My vehicle was a late model Dodge crew cab, turbocharged, Cummins diesel dually with four wheel drive and a manual transmission. Back in the cap covered bed I carried a half ton of bagged sand for added weight. As long as I could see, I could stay on the road and keep going without too much trouble. And, I didn't drive over forty miles an hour and often much more slowly as conditions warranted.

I'd stopped counting the number of cars in the ditch in both the north bound and south bound lanes as well as those in the median--at least when I could see them. Drivers just wouldn't slow down and they paid for it. Any number of them zoomed by me in the passing lane and I found some of them a ways down the road, in the ditch.

Much, much later, I finally made it to Marion, Illinois where I pulled off the Interstate for fuel. A drive that normally would take no more than five hours and usually less, hat taken nine and a half hours this time in the snow storm 

I needed a break from the tension of driving under such poor conditions as much as my truck needed fuel. Fueling completed, I pulled the truck over to the parking area and struggled through the blowing snow to the truck stop restaurant.

An empty stool at the counter beside two obvious truckers was my target. Maybe they knew something of I-24 through Tennessee and I-75 south from Chattanooga. I ordered a hot sandwich and coffee.

I looked to the two truckers on my right and said, "My name's Bruce and I'm headed for I-24 and then south on I-75. Do you know anything about conditions on those roads?"

The trucker nearest to me answered, "My moniker's 'Droopy.' Road conditions thata way aren't the best but I hear they's a lots better than the ones north from here."

"Yes, the drive from Chicago to here was about twice the normal amount of driving time."

"That's what Jeb and me heard."

"You guys team drivers or solos?"

"Weun's a team on a reefer. Goin' where you come from, Chi-town."

"Good luck. Myself, I'm headed for North Fort Myers, Florida. Christmas with the parents and all that."

"Well, you all will like to run out of the snow somewheres between Chantenoogy and 'Lanta."

"Much obliged," I said as I laid down a tip and rose from my seat. "I got a feeling the state will shut down I-57 before much longer. It's really bad, and getting worse."

"Thanks, sonny, weuns might just spend a little Z time in the sleeper while this blows over."

I walked off to the cashier and then back out to my truck. I had left the diesel run with the wipers running and defroster on high, so my windshield was clear and the side windows only a bit slushy. Unlocking, I climbed into the cab and headed back out for the Interstate.

The run across I-24 was interesting, but not as bad as the run down I-57. It only took me half again as long to reach Chattanooga as usual instead of the nearly twice as long on the trip to Marion.

About an hour or more north of Chattanooga, I got flagged down by a figure waving franticly by the side of the Interstate. The figure was holding a wrapped up bundle in its other arm. A small car was nearly buried in the roadside ditch behind the figure. The snow was swirling so hard at that particular moment, I almost ran the person down.

I managed to get the truck stopped and the figure dashed for me. I rolled my window down as the figure reached my door. From the depths of that heavy, hooded parka and muffler wrapped face, I heard a female voice come out of a teeth chattering mouth.

"Oh God, mister, I'm so glad you stopped. I've been standing out here nearly fifteen minutes since my car ran out of gas and no one would stop. I was about to freeze to death. My baby can't take much more of this."

"Well, we can't have that now, can we. You'd better go around the front of the truck where there is some light and get in here out of this weather." 

"Oh thank you so much."

"You'd better hand that baby in to me first; then hang onto the truck to get to the passenger door.

She picked her way carefully around the truck, steadying herself on the truck with her free hand. She got the passenger door open and climbed in, slipping on the first step, but then making it. 

After she reclaimed the baby, she exclaimed, "Oh shit, I forgot my bag with the baby's things in it in my rush to get to you."

"Just sit here in the warmth and I'll go back and get it for you,"

"Thanks," she chattered, "I'm so stiff with cold I can hardly move."

I pulled my parka over my head, tied it shut, pulled on my gloves, and climbed our into the snow storm. It took me a bit to find the bag as it was a ways back and the blowing snow had almost buried it already. But I did eventually find it and then made my way back to my truck.

"Damn, but it is cold out there. How's the baby"

"Apparently, none the worse for the experience. She was wrapped up well and was quite snug and warm. I was so scared she wouldn't be."

I got on the road and moving again without getting hit.

"Where were you headed before you went off the road?"

"I was headed for my mothers place in North Fort Myers. My boyfriend left me a week after the baby was born. He just walked out and said he wouldn't be back."

"How old is she now?"

"Tracy is six weeks old now. By the way, my name's Samantha. But everyone just calls me, Sam. Howd ja do?"

"My name's Bruce and I do quite well although I'd do much better if I could get out of this snow pretty soon."

"Yeah, ain't that the truth. Listen, Tracy has started crying yet, but it's way past her feeding time. Do you mind if I feed her?"

"Not at all."

"I mean, I have to breast feed her."

"Still no problem. That's the best way. I have all I can handle driving this truck in this storm without leering at you breast feeding. You can go ahead and feed her."

"Thanks."

Samantha proceeded to wiggle out of her parka and open her blouse. She wasn't wearing a bra, so the baby had easy access to the nipple. Yes, I had looked long enough to see that much and to determine that Sam had very significant set of mammaries. Then I turned my attention back to the road and didn't look their way again until Sam moved enough to rebutton her blouse.

When she got that done and picked Tracy up off her lap, I said, "Those back seats are already folded down and you can crawl back there and lay down on the resulting flat surface and snuggle with Tracy if you want to snooze a bit. You'll have to crawl over the center console, but it shouldn't be too hard for you. I'm going to pack it in at Chattanooga and get a room. I've been on the road from Chicago and can't go much further without some rest. It isn't such a good idea to be without seat belts, especially under these conditions, but I'll try not to get into an accident. Chattanooga isn't much further anyway."

"That sounds good to me, Bruce."

Samantha must have dozed off because I never heard a peep except for her regular breathing until we hit the lights of Chattanooga.

I called back to Samantha, "Hey Sam, wake up, you need to get into a seat belt here in town."

She woke from what she said was only a doze and crawled back up front. We had to drive around for a while to find a motel with any room at all, but we finally found one with only one room left, a room with only one king size bed. I grabbed it.

"I'll go back out to the truck and get our stuff. You go ahead to the room."

"Ok."

I noted what the room number was while we registered. I trudged back out into the storm to gather my overnight bag and the bag for baby Tracy. I carried it all back down and into the first floor room. A soft knock from me and the door opened instantly. With a big grin, Samantha let me in. It was then I noticed that she was likely in her mid twenties. I, on the other hand, was thirty-five.

"Samantha..."

"Please," she interrupted me, "just call me Sam."

"Sam, you and Tracy take the bed; I'll go back down to the desk clerk and get some extra bedding and sleep on the floor."

"The hell you will! There's no way I'm going to let you sleep on the floor. You need more rest than that will give you. You've been a perfect gentleman and if I know people, I don't think that's going to change."

"Ok, I'm too damned tired to argue. You use the bathroom first. While you do that, I'll call the desk clerk and see if I can get a crib for Tracy."

"Ok."

I managed to snare the last available crib. The desk clerk brought it to the door in just a few minutes. Sam had left the baby in the middle of the bed in my care. I opened the made up crib and put Tracy in it. She never blinked an eye. She was deep asleep.

Sam didn't take long in the bathroom.

"Your turn, Bruce." 

She had showered and I climbed into the still warm stall and had a hot shower of my own. I put on a clean pair of boxers and went back out. 

Only a small lamp by the bed was on. Sam was in bed snuggled neck deep in the warm covers. I sat on the bed, doffed my shorts and slid under the covers. Sam noticed but never said a word. She just doused the light and we both fell into an exhausted sleep. 

I woke to a semi-dark room. Sam was dressed.

"Well, hello sleepy head."

"Hi. Jeeze, is it ever going to get light?"

"It's almost night again. You've nearly slept the clock around."

"God, I knew I was tired, but I didn't think it was that bad."

"You looked so sweet sleeping there that I'd not the heart to wake you. You needed the rest. I even got up to feed and change the baby and you never stirred. Since I've nothing but the clothes on my back, I slept naked just like you. You never made a move on me. You were dead out."

"Like I said, I was tired."

"That's an understatement if I ever heard one."

"Anybody for food?" I asked. "I'm starved."

Tracy whimpered and Sam said, "I've got to feed Tracy first and then I'm all for some food."

This time I watched as Sam again unashamedly bared both breasts and fed the baby. It wasn't sexy or erotic, just a natural, warm mother/baby relationship. When the baby had enough, Sam stood, breasts still bared, and gave Tracy to me.

"Would you burp her and hold her for me while I wash up 'the table'?"

"Sure."

I was no stranger to holding babies as my wife and I had raised twin girls and I mean the both of us. I changed diapers, bathed them, and held them at length. I loved kids, especially babies.

Tracy burped right off and I cuddled her to sleep within seconds after that. Sam came out to find me quietly droning meaningless words to Tracy.

"That's quite a picture. You look quite happy and natural holding a baby."

"I just love babies and holding them."

"Tell me more, but over some food, please."

So, we wrapped up the sleeping Tracy and ourselves and trudged out to the nearby Bob Evans restaurant for some badly needed sustenance.

Over our food and numerous cups of coffee, we told each other about ourselves. I went first. Normally, I tended to be on the reticent side, but since I felt quite at ease in Sam's presence, my story tumbled easily from my lips.

"My wife and I were married at seventeen, right out of high school. She got pregnant on prom night, but we had been together since our freshman year. We had identical twin girls. The twins were just shy of thirteen when we lost one in a car accident."

"Oh, I'm so sorry. What happened, if it isn't too painful for you to talk about it." 

"No, it was five years ago and I'm over the worst of it now. Life does go on. To answer your question, my daughter had been riding with a friend with the mother of the friend the driver. A semi truck ran a red light and broadsided them into a telephone poll. All three of them died instantly."

"That's awful." 

"Yes, my wife never really got over that. She had some health concerns, one fairly serious, but the death of our daughter caused her to just give up. She died mostly from a broken heart."

"What happened to your other daughter?"

"Judy is a freshman at Vassar. She lives with my sister for the time being, but I don't think that will last too much longer. She wants to be on her own like most any other college kid."

"So what have you done for the last five years, Bruce?"

Sam was by now holding one of my hands in both of hers. I didn't offer to withdraw it and she didn't seem inclined to let go.

"I've a good executive job in Chicago as a business manager consultant to which I devoted most of my time, like sixteen hours a day, since the accident and my wife's death. So much so, that I've just about burned myself out. As a result, I readily accepted the invitation of my folks for Christmas dinner in North Fort Myers. That by the way, is where I'm headed."

"Oh. What about women friends?"

"Because of the time I devoted to my job and my lingering feelings for my wife, I've essentially locked any female companionship out of my life the past five years."

"My God, that must be almost as bad as your tragic losses."

"I've really not had much time to think about it. It's been either work or sleep."

"I don't see how you could stand it."

"It's been a difficult time. So, what's your story?"

Sam finally did let go of my hand as she began to tell her story.

"Oh, I grew up on a farm in rural Macomb, Illinois. I graduated at seventeen and pregnant. I lost the baby in a miscarriage at three months. The father was an ass and fled rather than face his responsibilities. I worked minimum wage jobs and dated over the next six years."

"You didn't try to go on to college?"

"No. In the first place, there was no money to do that. In the second place, my parents split up two years after I graduated and Dad took off. But he'd already disowned me and kicked me out because of the pregnancy, the hypocrite. 

"Why do you say that, Sam?"

"Because he fathered me when Mother was not quite sixteen and I was born nine months after that birthday. They didn't get married until a year after that."

Mom picked up and moved to Florida to lead her own singles life. She didn't want me along to hamper that lifestyle. The only thing left for me was to get a job with only a high school diploma."

"So, what about the last two years?"

"I met this guy. He seemed like a dream come true. That didn't last long. He moved in with me fairly quickly. He didn't want to work. It was nearly impossible to support us both on my low income. He was physically abusive and that got intolerable once he found out I got pregnant again."

"I'll never understand a man like that. I'll wager he never understood or appreciated a woman like you."

Sam blushed, but beamed at my compliment.

"Especially such a beautiful woman."

That brought an even deeper blush.

"So then what happened?"

"As I told you when you picked me up, after the baby was born, he just took off, but not before he gave me one more bad beating."

"You're heading for you mother's place you said?"?

"Yes, I've always know where she was. As I said, she ended up in Florida sometime after she split with dad. She said I could stay now for a while, but I had to find a place of my own pretty quick like."

"Since we're both headed for essentially the same place, may I offer you and Tracy a ride the rest of the way?"

"Yes," she said very softly.

"What about your car?" As tired as I was at the time, I'd nearly forgot about that.

"It was registered to my boyfriend. My name's not associated with the car in any way. It's not in the best of shape, so he left it as well as me. Let the authorities track him down."

"If they can't track him down," I replied, "either the state or the towing company will sell it at auction. Either way, I guess you're clear of it. Didn't you leave personal belongings in it?"

"Yeah, but none of the stuff I left is traceable to me."

"I told the desk clerk when I phoned him about getting the crib for Tracy that we might keep the room a second night. The snow is letting up some, but I'd like one more night of rest and hope it quits by morning. I've got two more days before Christmas dinner with the folks. We'll probably even have time to get you some more clothes to wear. Ok?"

"Sounds like a plan to me."

Tracy had been sleeping soundly on the padded bench seat next to her mother through all of this. But she woke and indicated she was hungry again and probably needed changing as well. Sam bent down and picked her up. I paid the bill and we all suited up for the trek back to the room across the side street from the restaurant.

We stopped at the desk and I paid for a second night. When we got back to the room and peeled out of our cold weather gear, tracy opened her blouse again and sat in a chair to feed Tracy. Once more, I watched in contentment as Tracy emptied first one breast and then the other. She was indeed a hungry little girl. Sam smiled at the baby and me the whole time Tracy fed.

With a smile, Sam handed Tracy to me once more and she left for the bathroom to wash "The Table" again. Tracy suddenly emitted quite a disagreeable odor. I promptly set about changing her. When Sam returned, she looked on in surprise.

"You're changing her?"

"Remember, Sam? My wife and I raised twin girls. I'm quite comfortable not only holding a baby, but also changing one or even feeding one--with a bottle of course."

"Of course," Sam giggled.

Her blouse was still open. She took Tracy when I completed changing her and tucked her into the crib. Then Sam turned and walked back to me. Her tits had the cutest little bobble as she did so.

Sam slipped her arms around my neck and crushed her bare breasts into me. Her rigid nipples nearly drilling into me. She looked up at me and puckered her lips. I can take a hint. I leaned down and kissed her. That kiss went on, and on, and...

We finally broke the kiss, which had turned into a wet French type session, and just looked into each other's eyes.




Bruce: The Good Samaritan



"I think I'm falling for you," whispered Sam. "You're such a kind and gentle man. Not once have you put pressure on me or tried to make a pass at me, even with naked breasts while feeding Tracy. I feel completely at ease with you, dressed or naked."

Still mesmerized, I leaned into her and kissed her again, but not quite so long that time.

"I think I'm falling for both of you." was my answer.

By that time, the tent that had sprouted in my pants front was very painful. 

"I think we should do something about your problem that's causing that tent, Bruce."

"Well, I think we'd better go slow here and be sure of ourselves, Sam."

A look of disappointment crossed Sam's face, but she released me with a smile. 

"Maybe it's just that I'm still darned tired. Maybe that snowy drive from Chicago was harder on this old man than than I thought. I could still use some more sleep and then we can hit the road again in the morning." 

Still smiling, Sam said, "I can wait, Sam, but don't make me wait too long."

I went into the bathroom for my before bed ritual and returned to find a naked Sam slip by me and into the bathroom. She had a wicked, lusty grin on her face that time. Probably because of the hardon I still sported. I dropped my boxers, cock bobbing, and crawled, naked, under the covers again. I never heard Sam come out of the bathroom and get into bed beside me.

Later, I woke to a most pleasurable feeling. I looked at the bedside stand to see my glowing travel alarm clock announce the time as 03:00 hours or three a.m. The pleasurable feeling I had as I lay flat on my back, was one of Sam's hands slowly stroking my throbbing, fully erect and very rigid cock. Sam was bare assed naked to boot. Her large, milk filled tits jiggled with her hand motion.

"I've waited long enough, Sam," was her comment when I turned my head back to look at her. Her bed side lamp was on. "Turn yours on too. I want to see you."

I reached my left hand over and flipped my light on.

"That's much better, Bruce."

God, it'd been so long since I'd been with a woman, I couldn't hold back. My God, she already had me hard and was stroking away with devilish intent. No way could I stop at that point.

"Well now, that's a great way to wake up, Sam."

Now, it may be that my dick isn't the largest flesh pole around, but up until I quit using it five years ago, at least in this kind of way, I'd had no complaints about how I used it.

"I love it that you're uncut, Bruce. It's a delight for me to see your helmet appear and disappear under the foreskin as I stroke you."

Sam had shoved the covers down a ways and as she leaned over me to stroke my dick, her ample boobs swayed provocatively in the light and shadows. She saw me looking.

"They're pretty good size right now while I'm still nursing. But when I wean Tracy, they'll revert to their normal size. I hope you won't be too disappointed in their smaller size when that happens."

"No way," I said as I grabbed hold of both tits and stroked them gently.

Sam growled a bit, appreciatively, as I stroked and then even more so when I shifted to thumb and forefinger on her nipples. Both nipples quickly began leaking milk. I couldn't help myself. I just had to suck on those pink buds.

"Don't do too much of that, Bruce. You have to leave enough to feed Tracy. But your sucking feels as good as the sucking Tracy does. Oh, God, that feels so good."

"Sam, you'd best not do too much more of what you're doing or I'm going to fill your hand with cream."

Sam immediately stopped stroking, turned to straddle me, and popped her mouth right down on my flesh pole. Her pussy was thus just above my head. I grabbed hold of her ass with both hands and pulled her down to my mouth. I didn't get to stroke her very long before my cock and balls reacted to the ministrations of her mouth.

I quickly felt the familiar feeling of my cream rising as my cock pulsed harder and swelled a bit larger. I can't say five years worth of cream came with my orgasm because I had done some solo work with my right hand during that time. But still, to have a woman's mouth do that job after so long a time made me come, and come hard in a copious amount.

Sam swallowed almost all of my load. Only a small amount escaped her and that she quickly licked up when she caught her breath.

"Good, now you'll take some time to come again."

"Don't bet on it," I said, "I've been known in the past to recover quite quickly."

"All the more fun for me, then, Bruce."

"You're turn, Sam. Come back here and lay on your back." 

She did as I bid. I began by giving her tiny kisses all about her face, ears, jaw, and neck. I kissed my way on down to the valley between her gorgeous tits. Big aureola under nipples was a joy of mine and her pregnancy had certainly done that for her. Her nursing the baby had kept them that way for now.

I kissed my way out the valley to the underside of her left boob and then all around it. Then around but not on the nipple. Back around the same boob and through the valley to repeat myself on her right boob. Her low growls and swinging her head from side to side told me she liked what I was doing to her.

As I kissed my way down to her navel, her body suddenly shook in orgasm. Sam moaned rather loudly. Milk was leaking in a near run from both her boobs. We were interrupted by a whimpering that told us Tracy needed attention. 

"Sorry, Bruce, but Tracy's hungry again and probably needs changing as well."

Sam could barely get her words out, she was so high yet on her orgasm. This time I watched in lust as she nursed the baby. That kept my cock hard. Apparently, the draining of her boobs kept Sam high as well. I say that because after she put the baby back to bed, she, as well as myself, took up right where we left off before were so rudely interrupted.

This time, I started at her knees and kissed my way up her inner left thigh to her swelled and puffy labia. I kissed and sucked on the left labia without getting into her slit. In her very aroused state, her inner labia were hanging out and were opened like a flower--a very pink flower at that.

I kissed my way through a very small semblance of a landing strip of hair just above her otherwise shaved sex and over to the other side of her slit without touching her clit.

From there, I proceeded to kiss my way down her right inner thigh to her knee. I think I counted three small orgasms while I was kissing around on her labia. She mewed in disappointment when I stopped and rose up on my knees to look at her.

Instead of returning immediately to her pussy, I dropped down to her toes and suckled on each in turn and down between each from one foot to the other. She orgasmed again with each foot. A minor one, but an orgasm just the same.

Then, without warning, I dropped her feet and went immediately to the seat of her sex. I licked and kissed my way up and down her sex slit with rapid strokes. I curled my tongue and drove it into her love tunnel as far as I could get it. My actions now drew one orgasm after another until I grabbed a mouthful of clit. 

When I did that, Sam arched her back up off the bed and climaxed in an shaking explosion of pleasure and lust. I kept at my task until she had enough.

"Oh my GOD, please stop," she finally managed to croak out. "I just can't stand any more. Oh God, I just can't. You're too much."

I backed off and lay down beside her, spooning front to front with her, my still very rigid cock squashed between us on her belly.

When she had calmed some, she kissed me and held me tight.

"I've never had sex that good in my life and you haven't even fucked me yet. God, I'm never going to let you go."

I just stroked her back and kissed her under her jaw in a gentle, loving way. I didn't say a word. I was afraid I'd say the wrong thing and break the spell.

A bit later, Sam said, "I think it's time we did something about that hard cock that's poking me in the stomach, don't you?"

"If you say so, Sam."

"Indeed I do say so. I want that dick in me, now."

Sam rolled off her side onto her back. I rolled onto her and placed her legs on my shoulders. She guided my cock to the target and I sank easily into her more than adequately lubricated gate of heaven. I buried my cock to my balls and stroked slowly and deeply for some time.

The frenzy of lust had left both of us and we enjoyed a leisurely, tender, and lengthy fuck. Eventually, I came up with another large load of cream and Sam orgasmed shortly afterward--a good, strong quaking one.

My cock just didn't want to go down. We remained in that position for a while, but it was too uncomfortable for Sam to stay that way. I uncoupled from her and lay down beside her and we spooned again in the after glow of our love making.

Somewhat later, Sam said to me, "Since you insist on remaining hard, put that cock in my pussy again and park it there for awhile."

My front was spooned into her back, so I did a rear entry and held her tight, one hand full of tit. We fell asleep in that position and didn't wake until Tracy let us know it was morning and she was hungry again. Sometime during the night, my cock had finally deflated and dropped out of its parking place. 

Sam turned to me and kissed me with fervor. Then she said, "I'll feed Tracy and then I desperately need a shower. So do you. When I'm done, you can shower."

Eventually, we were all ready to go out for breakfast and then hit the road. The snow had stopped and it looked like a good day to drive.

************

After breakfast, we drove to a shop the waitress suggested and got some more outfits for Sam, both lingerie and outerwear. We made a second stop at a WalMart for more baby outfits and a new supply of diapers. We also got a baby car seat for Tracy.

Finally, we got back on the interstate, picked up I-75, and headed south. The driving was still hairy down to Atlanta, but not the terrible experience had back on I-57. From Atlanta to the Florida line, we drove in intermittent rain. And then, sunny and dry Florida. What a relief.

After crossing the Georgia/Florida line, I asked Sam, "Does the ten year age difference between us bother you?"

"I never gave our age difference the first thought until you just brought it up now. I didn't know just how much older than me you were, but no, it bothers me not at all."

"As long as you're content with it, the age difference doesn't bother me either. But, I'm no longer a twenty year old studly hunk, either."

"That may be, Bruce, but you're no slouch either. You may not be a Charles Atlas type muscled hunk with six pack abs, but you look damned good for a thirty-five year old. You're still husky, fit, and sexy as hell. Anyway, your kindness, gentleness, and loving way with Tracy far outweigh any physical attributes."

"You're sure?"

"Yes, and there is one more thing."

"What's that?"

"Your cock may not be the twelve or fourteen incher of the porn stories, but it's more than enough for me and you certainly know well enough about how to use it. I couldn't be happier."

I had no reply to that one.

All day driving down Florida I-75, Sam fed Tracy on demand. Tracy required changing a couple of times as well. It was at the pause ending our conversation that Tracy demanded feeding again. Sam bared her boobs once more and filled that demand.

At the end of a very long day of driving from Chattanooga, we finally pulled into North Fort Myers well past the time I thought decent to drop in on my parents, so we rented another motel room. We were so tired, we didn't even want to eat. That is except for Tracy. So, after feeding and changing her, we both showered, played with Tracy until she got sleepy enough to put her to bed, and then went to bed ourselves. We both slept like we were drugged.

Christmas morning and we awoke bright and early, just an hour before dawn as it turned out. I should say Sam woke up. She woke me up the same way she had since our first night, stroking my hard dick. That led to another frenzied love making session. We just seemed unable to get enough of each other.

We managed to shower a second time, but that time, together, in the cramped motel shower stall and getting in another hard fuck before finally stepping out and drying each other off. We stepped out into the main room to find Tracy cooing and smiling in her crib, quietly waiting for us to show up.

After feeding Tracy, Sam said, "Will you burp her again and keep her occupied? I need to wipe off again and then call mother to let her know I'm ok."

"Will do. What's your mother's name?"

"Her name is Donna."

Sam used her calling card. She hung up with a funny look on her face.

"Trouble, Sam?"

"That number's been disconnected, Bruce."

"Odd. By the way, just where does your mother live?"

"Oh, in one of those retirement parks with mobile homes set permanently in place. It's called Old Bridge Park."

I slapped my forehead and replied, "That's the same place my parents live. Small world, isn't it."

"Sure is, Bruce."

"Well, maybe," I said, "they live far enough apart from each other that we won't run into your mother until you're ready to run into her."

"Yes, I'm simply not ready to do that just yet."

"By the way, Sam, I've not actually said so yet, but you are coming with me for dinner at my parents, I hope."

"Since you asked, yes, I'll come with you. Tracy too?"

"Of course, any and every time it's possible. This one's definitely possible."

My reward was a long, deep, passionate kiss. Tracy was watching us and giggled, at least I think it was a giggle. Then I said, "Now it's my turn to call my mother."

I got Mother on the phone right off. After she got over gushing her hello to me, I said, "Mom, I got in really late last night so I got a room rather than get you and Dad up in the wee hours. I also wanted to ask if it would be alright to bring a guest, actually two guests although you would only have to set one extra place at the table."

"Of course that would be ok. Is it anyone we know?"

"No, I don't think so, but I'll certainly introduce you when we get there."

"So secretive you are, Bruce."

"Yes. Well, we'll see you in about half an hour. Bye for now."

"Bye, Bruce."

"Is she going to take this ok, Bruce? Us, I mean."

"No problem. They've been hoping for some time that I'd find someone again. They'll be quite happy about it. And grandparents again? No way they won't like our little surprise."

My reward was another passionate kiss.

"You keep that up, Sam, and we'll be much later than half an hour getting to our dinner."

Sam just gave me a wicked grin as we packed up our stuff and loaded it all back into the truck. After we were ready to go, I went back to the desk and checked us out.

After I climbed back into the pickup, Tracy reached for me. At least I thought that's what she was doing. Sam was watching and caught on, so she held Tracy up to me so I could peck her on the lips. Tracy just cooed and gave that little giggle I loved.

"I guess I'll just have to get used to two women chasing after me."

Sam gave me a punch in the shoulder, albeit, a light one. It ended up taking us forty-five minutes to find the park.

"This is my first time here, Sam. I didn't realize it was a gated park."

"It sure is a nice place," she mused.

Mom must have called ahead because, after I identified myself, the gatekeeper waved us on. Mother literally jumped for joy when she saw my guest was female and included a baby. Dad just grinned from ear to ear.

"Well, for Pete's sake, son, introduce us. When did this all happen? What's the ba..."

"Whoa, slow down Ma, one question at a time. This is Samantha or Sam and the baby's name is Tracy--ah, she's a girl."

"Oh, Sam, that's just wonderful."

Sam, this is my parents, Sue and Jim."

Then it was all gushiness between the women. Dad just continued to grin and beam his happiness. I just stood by and observed as I held Tracy.

"So, Sam," Ma finally asked, "when did you get married and how old is the baby?"

"First of all, Ma, we're not married although I think that status won't last much longer."

Ma's eyebrows went up.

"We just met a couple of days ago in a snowdrift off I-57 in a blizzard."

We walked to the house as I began to tell the full story from our meeting until the last few minutes and continued as we settled comfortably in the living room.

Sam added at the end of the story, "Our wedding plans are indefinite right now, but they'll firm up shortly. Now that I've got him, I'm not letting this man get away from me anytime soon or forever, for that matter."

"You're sure of that are you, Sam?" I interjected.

"Better believe it, big boy, better believe it. Anyway, I don't think you'd want to break Tracy's heart."

"Ah, you got me there, woman."

Dad just grinned and beamed some more.

We stayed that night and two more in the spare bedroom. Our lovemaking was rather tame in order for us to keep from making too much noise. The fourth morning, I finally told my folks we had to get on to see Sam's mother. I told them that my plans for work and whatever were indefinite yet, but that we would be in touch.

It was but a few minutes drive over to the home of Sam's mother. We got there, stopping at the park office to get the correct address and directions only to find that her mother had moved just the day before and no longer lived in the park. Donna did leave a forwarding address which the manager was more than glad to pass on to us.

************

The new address was across the Caloosahatchee River in Fort Myers. It was an upscale, new condominium building. That we were surprised would be an understatement. More surprises awaited us inside.

There was a repeat, though less gushy and more restrained, of the greetings and introductions that we went through with my parents. Donna gave me a quick once-over with a critical eye and seemed to accept me.

"We were told you just moved here yesterday. What's up, Mom?" asked Sam.

"Yes. Well, I hooked up with a man six months ago. He owned this condominium building. He also owned three others. We were together five months before he just uppped and died on me."

"Died?"

"Yes. Heart attack. But not before he'd altered his will. I knew noting about that until the lawyers contacted me. His wife was long dead and he had only one grown child, a daughter. The old geezer left me all four condominiums and left all his other assets to his daughter. Her share came to a very tidy sum indeed. I never knew the old boy was so loaded."

"Well, well, well," Sam said, "you seem to have come up pretty far in the world in a short time."

"Lot of good it'll do me."

" Why is that, Mother?"

"Because I just got the third medical opinion that I've got terminal cancer with no more than six months or less left to live."

"Oh, Mother!"

"Oh, just don't, Sam. I've had my turn. Now then, just what are your intentions with Bruce here, Sam?"

"We want to get married."

"Hmm. Just get it done while I'm still alive to see this one. The day you tie the knot, You'll inherit all four of my condominiums."

"OH MY GOD. Mother!"

After we somewhat came down off that high, we all went out to eat. When we returned, Donna set us up in a vacant condo within the building. If our condo was any indication, all these condos were upper end in price and luxury. Among the four condo buildings, Donna told us, only thirty percent were still unsold. The money from the seventy percent already sold had been invested quite wisely. I believe Sam was going to get her life back.

Finis

************

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