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The Team

By: Ashson



Rick watched Sandra chatting with the boys and accepting their offers of a drink. If she wasn't careful those wolves would get bind drunk, and she'd wake up used and abused and not knowing who did it. He'd take some time to take care of her while she was still sober. It could be interesting.

He moved in, deftly cutting her out from the wolf pack, a cold stare all he needed to make them back off while he turned his charm upon Sandra. 

"I know you," he said, smiling. "You're Sandra. You're the youngest member of the girls basketball team aren't you. Are you sure you're old enough to be out drinking?" he teased.

Sandra laughed. "I may be the youngest in the team, but I'm eighteen, and Nicki and Nancy are here and they promised to keep an eye on me."

"They're not doing too good a job of it," murmured Rick. "They left you with the wolf pack and they don't seem to be trying to pry you lose from me."

"Those boys weren't a wolf pack. They were just having a bit of fun. And why should the girls want to pry me lose from you. You're harmless aren't you?"

"Those boys are a pack, and I don't think you'd have enjoyed what they consider fun. And you'll find I'm not harmless. No man is where a pretty and sexy girl is concerned."

"You worry too much. I can look after myself. I'll be fine."

"I know you'll be fine, now," said Rick with a grin. "I've cut you out of the pack, I'm going to drag you into one of the bedrooms in a moment and make passionate love to you, and then I'll keep an eye on you for the rest of the night. You'll be able to drink as much as you please and get plastered if you want to, knowing that I'm around and will make sure you get home safely."

"I don't need you to watch me and why would I let you make mad passionate love to me, anyway?" queried Sandra with a giggle.

"Curiosity," said Rick, "so finish up your drink and come with me."

"What's your rush?" frowned Sandra. "I haven't even said I'm staying with you for a while." 

"Right now you're relaxed but sober," smiled Rick, "but I can see you want to drink and party and let it all flow, so I want to take you now while you know what is going on. Why would I want to fuck a drunk, hmmm?"

"You just said make love, not have sex," said Sandra primly, while feeling quite fascinated by that smile. She wondered if he knew what that smile did to a girl?

"One can lead to the other, and quite quickly," returned Rick. All the time that they'd been talking he had been gently steering her out of the main rooms and away from the party. Now he opened a door, and ushered Sandra in, and before she realised it Sandra found herself in a bedroom with Rick leaning back against the closed door.

"How'd he do that?" she wondered, "and how am I going to get out of this. And I wish he'd stop smiling. It's making me all hot and bothered."

Rick reached over and took the empty glass from her hand, placing it on a bedside table, while with his other hand he reached over and drew Sandra to him.

"Just a kiss or too, to start," he said. "We can stop anytime you like."

Sandra laughed and turned up her face, meeting his and sinking quickly into some kissing that very rapidly passed from a kiss or two into some very passionate caresses. Sandra had had just enough to lower her inhibitions a little, she liked Rick and she found she really liked his kisses.

She didn't mind when she felt Rick's hand cup her breast and gently rub the nipple. She wasn't a virgin, and enjoyed having her breast stoked. It took a couple of minutes of Rick gently playing with her breast, before it slowly sank in that he was actually playing with her naked breast. She pulled back for a moment and was stunned to realise that her top and bra were gone. "How'd he do that," she wondered, "and do I care?" was the second thought. She was about to continue the kissing when she has a horrified thought and glanced down again. "How'd you get my skirt off?" she demanded.

"Quite easily," laughed Rick. "I unzipped it first, and then slipped the top button. Gravity did the rest. Don't worry. It hasn't been hurt."

"That's not the point. You should have asked. Or at least let me know what you were doing. Suddenly I'm naked except for my panties, and you say don't worry?"

"That's right. And if you're wondering about the panties, I'm about to take them of right now. Hold still."

Rick slipped his hand under the waist of the panties and gently pushed them down, while Sandra stared at him indignantly. "He wouldn't. "He would. He has. My god, he's a monster."

"You give me my clothes back right now," Sandra demanded.

"In a moment," said Rick, talking hold of her again, moving slowly to give her time to protest, satisfied when none came. He started kissing her again. Sandra felt his hand sliding down to her breast again, sighed and let it be. She liked it, so why stop? Gently Rick eased her onto the bed, still kissing, still playing with her breasts. Sandra sighed as she felt his lips move from hers down to her breasts, nibbling, sucking kissing her nipples. It seemed only right that his hand should also move down and start stoking her pussy, gently manipulating, slowly lighting the fire that he would have to put out.

Rick and already undone his trousers, and a couple of judicious kicks had slipped them off and onto the floor. He felt Sandra starting to run her hands over him and waited for her reaction when she found his erection.

Sandra's hands drifted lower, as with what she considered great daring she moved them towards Rick's crotch. Well before she expected it she found her hand bumping against something warm and hard. She tensed and lightly touched it. Ran her fingers down the length, trying to estimate the size, clasped her hand around it and held it. She shuddered slightly. Did she want to look at that thing? She did. She had to know if it was as big as it felt. She leaned a little away from Rick and dropped her eyes, stared and winced slightly. If she was going to let him fuck her it would be with that. She suddenly felt very small while looking at his cock. "No way" she thought, while at the same time she could feel her stomach curling in anticipation, her pussy seeming to swell and reach for the prize, her whole body calling "yes".

Sandra lay back down, staring at Rick's face, silently asking are you really going to fuck me with that thing? She watched as Rick just smiled that damn toe-curling smile of his, and felt his foot hooking her ankle and drawing her leg to the side, parting her thighs, making his intentions clear. She lay there watching his face as he moved between her thighs, feeling his fingers moving her lips apart and then feeling the tip of that monstrous weapon inserted into her nervous pussy.

Rick carefully positioned himself above Sandra. His gentle explorations had confirmed that her cherry would not be a problem. All her actions had indicated that she wasn't a virgin, even if she wasn't greatly experienced. Carefully edging the head of his cock between her lips, he paused, indicating to Sandra that she should prop herself up slightly so that she could see his cock enter her.

Sandra raised herself as suggested, and then watched as Rick slowly started to push his cock home. She could see it disappearing into her, inch by nerve racking inch, and she could also feel it advancing within her, filling her, stretching her, making more room for itself within her and then taking it. "It has to stop," she thought. "I can't take much more." Rick pressed on that little bit more, and then further, forcing Sandra to realise that yes, she could take more. She could take all of it she found as that last little bit thudded into place, feeling Ricks rough pubic hair scratching at the surface of her smoothly shaven pussy.

Rick held her down, pinned to the bed by his erection. 

Sandra was glowing, happy that the preliminaries were over, knowing that the main bout was about to start, and that fucking worked both ways. If he was going to take her and get his pleasure, she was equally as determined to take him and get her pleasure. 

She felt his first gentle withdrawal, followed by the gentle return. "That's what you think, buster," she thought, waiting for the next withdrawal and return. Felt him moving out, almost to his tip, and when the return started she thrust firmly upwards, forcing the return to be lot harder than intended. "I'm not a child, remember," she told Rick. "I won't break. If you're going to fuck, then do so."

Rick laughed at her urgency. "She wants it hard and fast? She'll get it hard and fast." Forgetting about any need for gentleness, Rick lunged home, retreated, thrust, duelling with Sandra, daring her to meet his passion and delighting when her passion rose to welcome him.

The passionate encounter couldn't continue. All too soon, Rick found himself ready to climax, could see Sandra barely hanging on, gave a gasp of release and ejaculated deep within her, feeling her gripping and holding him within her as she went over the edge, enjoying everything he could do to her.

Afterwards they just lay for a few minutes, relaxing, enjoying the feel of the person lying next to them. Rick turned to Sandra and said "Go out and enjoy the rest of the party. Don't worry if you drink too much. I'll keep an eye on you and will see you safely back to the dorm as promised."

"Thank you, but there's no need," murmured Sandra. "I came with Nicki and Nancy and they'll make sure I get home safely."

"I wouldn't count on that," laughed Rick. "I saw their designated driver, and he was knocking the drinks back whenever he thought they weren't looking. He's going to be too tight to drive after the party, I assure you. I'll have Nicki and Nancy come with us. They're in your dorm, I believe."

Rick watched Sandra move back into the party. As promised he'd keep an eye on her and then run her home. The least he could do. And tomorrow he just might give her a call.

------------------------

The party was winding up, and Sandra, from what Rick, could see was well past the time she should have called it quits and headed for the door. He wandered over to her and encouraged her outside, into the fresh air. The fresh air could have been chloroform from the way Sandra promptly wilted, and Rick was effectively carrying her by the time they reached his van. He hoisted her up into the front seat and fastened her seat belt. She was out cold before the door was closed. 

Rick head back inside to locate Nicki and Nancy. Found them looking over their designated driver, frowning. "Hi, girls. I've just been loading Sandra into my van. I thought as you two are her friends and stay at the same dorm, you might like to come along and keep her company. Your, ah, designated driver doesn't look as though he's going to be doing any driving tonight." 

"Oh. Rick, isn't it?" said Nicki. "If you've already got Sandra in your car we might as well go with you. Thank you." 

Rick escorted them out to his van. The girls found that it had been modified somewhat. Apart from the two standard seats in the front, two bench seats ran down the length of the van, one on either side. You could either get in the front and slip between the front seats or raise the back and enter that way. "Don't worry about the seating arrangements," said Rick. "They're up to standard and you'll find seatbelts. I won't be driving so fast that you'll need the hand grips," he added with a grin.

The girls settled into the van, and Rick was soon on the road, heading back to the University and the dorms. There was a little general chatter at first and then Nancy raised a point she had wondered about. 

"Why did you offer to take us home, Rick? You barely know us."

"Three reasons," said Rick, glancing around and flashing her a quick smile. "First, I promised Sandra that I'd make sure you got home safely, as she was a bit worried when she noticed you designated driver knocking them back. Second, protection for me and Sandra. You can bear witness that I didn't molest her while she's out cold."

Rick left it at that and continued concentrating on his driving. Nicki and Nancy glanced at each other and then Nicki, curious, gently queried, "You said three reasons. What's the third"?

"Having two witnesses in the car means that I have witness that neither of you protest when I take of your panties and screw you," Rick replied, and the girls could hear the laugh in his voice.

"What?! I don't think I heard that right. Would you care to repeat it," came a startled query from Nancy.

Rick pulled over and into the park they were passing. "Nice timing of that question," he thought.

He turned towards them, unbuckling his safety belt, and explained. "I picked you both because you're her friends and because I have wanted to fuck both of you for quite a long time." Slipping between the front seats he joined them in the back of the van. He deftly undid Nicki's seat belt, took both her hands in one of his and swiftly twisted so that she found herself lying on the bench seat with her hands held over her head. He laughed down at her and then turned to Nancy, directing her to pull down Nicki's yoga pants and panties. "All the way off, mind" he added smiling.

Nicki wriggled indignantly, but found herself held fast. Hearing Nancy's seat belt click open, she turned an appalled gaze upon Nancy. "Ypu wouldn't?" she gasped to Nancy, only to receive a mischievous smile and a giggling "Yes, I would."

She moved next to Rick, took hold of Nicki's yoga pants and panties and slowly pulled them down. Rick smiles at a scarlet faced Nicki and gently placed one hand on her pussy and squeezed. 

"Nice and smooth," he murmured. "Nancy, time for you to take off your slacks and panties now."

"What?"

"It's only fair. Nicki has lost hers."

Nancy hesitated feeling the looks that Nicki and Rick were giving her. Gentle interest in Ricks look but a defiant challenge from Nicki. Nancy stared back for a moment, then swallowed and nervously stripped off her pants, moving slowly and making a production of it.

Rick smiled. "A heart?" he queried?

Nancy flushed. "I like it. I didn't want to shave completely but I though if I had to trim...." Her voice faded away.

"Don't worry. I like it too," said Rick, reaching out and placing two fingers on the V at the top of the small heart. His fingers traced either side of the patch of fur, up and around and smoothly down to where the point of the heart continued on to the slit below. He could feel Nancy tense, but could also feel her pussy move slightly forward, pressing against his gentle touch. He moved back away, and looked at Nicki again.

He could sense that the girls were a little nervous, not sure how far he intended to go or how much they would let him get away with. Neither girl was drunk, but they had definitely had enough to lower their inhibitions slightly, and both seemed curious as to his next move.

He unbuttoned Nicki's blouse, letting her see what he was doing, and then reached around and deftly unclipped her bra. Tugged her up to a sitting position and slipped off blouse and bra, leaving Nicki sitting there naked, breasts standing out happily, with her nipples already slightly erect. Rick then began to gently stroke Nicki's boobs, gently squeezing and rubbing the nipples. At the same time he glanced over at Nancy, looked pointedly at her breasts and then back to her face, one eyebrow raised quizzically. Nancy blushed, but slowly removed her top, hesitated for about a second, then lifted her head proudly and removed her bra. "She has reason to be proud," Rick mused. "Those are two lovely puppies."

He guided Nancy down, sitting her next to Nicki, and then began playing with the four beautiful boobs in front of him, touching, tonguing, kissing. Rubbing the nipples with his thumb or his palm, depending on his mood and the girls reaction.

His hands slipped down, heading unerringly for the warmth between their legs, persuading their legs to part slightly to give him room, stroking, squeezing and tantalising. Slipping lips apart and darting fingers within, withdrawing to palpitate their love mounds and let the motion ripple through them into that core where the fires were now burning, while moisture gathered and spread within them. Both girls were breathing heavily now, occasionally reaching across to stroke each others breasts. 

Rick pulled Nancy gently to her feet for a moment, giving him a chance to lay Nicki back down on the bench. He smiled at her as she stared back at him, ready but unsure. He reached out and took Nancy's arm urging her forward, bending her so that she was leaning across Nicki, breasts dangling just above Nicki's breasts, gently swaying but not quite touching. Rick moved around behind Nancy, reaching between her legs, urging her legs to apart a little more, and then, while Nicki watched with horror and delight, he pressed his cock against that moist slit in front of him and started pushing it home.

Nancy gasped, not sure she wanted this, not sure that she didn't. "You're not really doing this are you?" she gasped. "Silly question. Of course you are. You shouldn't be doing this. Too late to stop I guess. Please. Harder." Nancy chatted away, not sure what she was saying, but feeling she had to say something, anything, while this cock was making her world spin, was making her spin, was driving her wild. "And you're not helping," she cried to Nicki, who had gently reached out and started teasing her breasts while Rick ploughed her fertile field, preparing it for the planting of his seed. 

Rick pressed home, moving faster and then slower, eager to drive Nancy over the edge without actually coming himself. He felt Nancy hovering on the edge, reached down and slipped a finger within her, flicking her clitoris. That proved too much for Nancy who screamed and convulsed, her climax tearing into her, taking her out of that world that had been spinning around her and leaving her floating, finally coming back to earth to find herself still leaning across Nicki, breathing heavily from the pleasure she had experienced.

Rick gently drew her away from Nicki and sat her back on the other bench. He turned back to Nicki, who looked at him approaching, looked at his erection, glistening with moisture and standing tall, and hastily crossed her legs. Nicki watched Rick as he smiled at her, then gently reached down and took her ankle, and then just as gently moved her leg to the side and off the bench, leaving her open and exposed. She tried to lift her leg back up to protect herself, but, even though Rick was only holding it down with a gentle finger, she couldn't find the strength or determination to move it. 

Nicki lay there, looking down where his hand was now stroking and watched. "He's touching my pussy again and then he's going to fuck me," she thought. "I should be pushing him away. I should be fighting and asking Nancy to help me. Why am I letting him do this?" She watched with anticipation as he moved between her legs, gently spreading her lips and then gasped as he dived into her. She felt his cock racing into her depths, her very self, and found herself lifting, racing to meet it, welcoming it like a thirsty soul. "This is why I'm not fighting," she sighed. "I want it too much."

Rick was now moving with a vengeance, hammering into the welcoming pussy, relishing the heat, the tightness, the smooth sliding of flesh against flesh. No longer needing to conserve himself he charged forward, running to meet his own climax but knowing he had to help Nicki reach hers. "Too soon," he groaned, as he felt himself exploding, only to hear a muffled scream from Nicki who was staring with vacant eyes, hand pressed to her mouth, as she also felt those internal convulsions lifting her to her climax.

Again there was that slow settling of movement, followed by a slow separation. There was silence for a while, then soft voice murmured "We have to get home." As if this was the signal they'd been waiting for, movement commenced, clothes were donned, seats were sort and seat belts fastened.


The Team



It was every delivery boy's dream. His shift was ending and his last stop of the night just so happened to be a house full of girls. He'd imagined this scenario in his head too many times to count, but tried to suppress his fantasies as he followed her into the kitchen. She "forgot" to grab the money, she'd said before inviting him in. He knew his role was to play it cool; act like it was the last thing on his mind.

The kitchen opened up into the living room, where he could see several women sitting around talking, laughing, and drinking. The girl in front of him, called out, "Pizza's here!" and a chorus of cheers and hoots erupted from the room. They started coming towards him and he couldn't help but notice some were wearing t-shirts with the logo of a softball league. He began to think he'd died and gone to heaven.

As he anticipated, the questions came in. He answered patiently and did his best to keep up with the game. Yes, I've been doing delivery for a little over a year now. Actually, it's been kinda slow tonight. No, I didn't have to drive too far. I am into sports, but it's been a while since I've played. That's awesome you guys kicked their asses. Oh, don't worry about it, this is my last stop for the night. I'm 6'1".

After some friendly banter, the kind-eyed girl who brought him into the house came over with his money. Before she could hand it over, though, it was snatched from her by one of her teammates. He'd seen her watching him carefully from the back of the room. She was Spanish in heritage, had dark hair pulled back into a knot, wore a form-fitting but slightly androgynous outfit of shorts and shirt, and looked like she could be the home run king of the group.

"You're just gonna take your money and leave a house full of girls?" she laughed. "Don't you wanna stay and have some fun? At least earn your fucking money."

The others looked around at each other and finally rested their eyes on him, waiting for his reaction. He smiled a sly grin. He knew this chick couldn't wait to jump him, but she was so insistent he almost thought he should pinch himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming. He cocked his head back and made the next move.

"Oh, I'm good for it," he answered confidently. "What'd you have in mind, little mama?"

Her face tightened at the sound of the pet name. Ah, she wants a fight, he thought to himself excitedly.

"You're awfully sure of yourself, aren't you, little boy? Acting like that in a house with twelve women who know how to use a baseball bat..." Laughter and jeers rose up around him.

Switching tactics, he started to laugh with them. "You got a point. Let's talk, then."

Girls started whispering to other girls. He imagined what they were saying. They'd probably ask to see him shirtless. Maybe see his ass. Maybe his dick. Could be they're freaks and they want to paddle him and haze him in other ways. All he knew was that an opportunity like this shouldn't be tossed aside carelessly.

Suddenly the hushed discussion came to an abrupt end and an unusual answer cut through his fantasies like a knife. "Serve us drinks for the next half hour."

He couldn't believe what he heard. His brow furrowed in confusion. He started to open his mouth to speak, but was cut off again.

"Serve us drinks for the next half hour and we'll see about adding to the tip you get... and maybe some really fun things will come up."

He paused to collect his thoughts. Were they just gonna lead him on? Maybe they want to test the waters first, to see if I'm bold enough. It is only serving drinks, after all. If nothing else, it would give them more time to adjust to him, and give him more of a chance to get in good with them. He accepted the deal and the room cheered.

"Wait!" yelled an unseen voice. A tall, leggy black girl came out of the hallway towards him. She smiled a diabolical smile. "You have to wear this, too."

It was hideously pink. So much so that he instinctively backed up a step away from it. Someone in the background called out, "Nothing else, either!" He couldn't tell if this was a good sign or not. The group tried to goad him on. He felt his ego simultaneously being threatened and fed. He was big enough to do it, he was man enough. No question about that, right. He'd show them he meant business by wearing this pink, frilly apron to serve them their drinks.

He stripped off his clothes then and there, and threw on the apron. The team watched in slight astonishment. Hoots and hollers soon followed. Maybe it was their lucky night, the one they imagined would probably never come.

The leggy black girl approached her new maid and looked him up and down. She snickered and pressed her lips against his before saying the name Jackie into his ear. He watched her walk away until the home run king stepped in to block his view.

"Pour me a drink," she commanded. He took her order and did as told. She almost seemed to give him a glance that wasn't unapproving as she left to sit down.

The house began to resume the noise and bustle it had before he'd come in. Some of the ladies sat and talked, occasionally motioning and calling for drinks to be brought over. Others stood around in the kitchen, watching him move about, staring at his bare ass, and every now and then taking the liberty of a little touch, pinch, or squeeze. If he spoke out of turn, he was told to shut his mouth and busy himself by fetching another drink.

Suddenly, three women approached him. He stopped in his tracks, holding a drink in each hand. One of the women slowly reached her hand down to his apron, lifted it up, and took a good, long look. None of them laughed. None of them oohed or aahed. They just smirked, sometimes at him, sometimes at the other part of him. He blushed a visible red shade and stood speechless. Then the women put down his apron and silently returned to their seats. He felt like he'd been hit in the face with a brick.

Once others had witnessed what the three women did, they decided to indulge their curiosities as well. Every time someone raised his apron, he felt more violated, more invaded than if he'd been serving drinks naked. A thin strip of cloth kept their eyes from his manhood, and they pulled it away time after time. He began to feel small and it began to make him angry. But then she came up to him - the kind-eyed girl who took him in.

She put her hand on the apron and lifted it up. Then he felt her other hand run slowly but firmly over his cock. She smiled and tightened her grip. He went hard as iron and she smiled wider. "I like it," she said.

He continued serving drinks, finding himself gradually more able to enjoy the treatment of the team. After 30 minutes had passed, the Spanish girl called him over to her, in the middle of the circle seated in the living room. She stood up and walked to him.

"You held up your end of the deal," she said. "You think you have it in you to go further, little boy?"

"How much further?" he asked nervously.

"We're past the point of questions now," she told him. "If you're not prepared to follow our lead after all that, you aren't ready to go further. It has to be only a yes or a no."

He muttered out, "Yes."

She placed her hand on his chin and lifted his eyes off the floor to meet hers. "My name is Angela. You say either, 'Yes, Miss Angela' or 'Yes, Ma'am.' Is that clear?"

The group was dead quiet, watching in gleeful anticipation. "Yes, Miss Angela," he mustered.

Her smile surprised him, but it wasn't long he got to see it before she reached around him, untied his apron, and pulled it off him and onto the floor. He stood naked in front of all twelve of the softball players. Angela ordered him to his knees. At her beckoning, he kissed her feet. He could hear the sound of people leaning forward in their chairs to watch the spectacle.

Once a few minutes had passed, he was taken by the hair and led on his hands and knees to Angela's seat. She sat down and put her legs on his back. "Now you get to serve as a foot rest."

He blushed again and felt his pride welling up deep down inside his chest. Yet when he looked around at the anxious and approving faces fixated on his naked body underneath Angela's feet, he found himself turned on. He couldn't let himself get too worked up and leave in shame. Thoughts of what might have been would torture him for the rest of his days. The only way to deal with shame was to own it and be shameless. He had to toughen up. He could play their game.

Just as he began to relax, he saw her coming down the hall. She was waving something in the air, something like... no, it wasn't like a chain, it was a chain. He breathed in deep and prepared himself for whatever humiliating thing they would do next. Would they chain him up? Were they going to beat his ass with it? Then he saw what was in her other hand.

His body jerked suddenly, but Angela was one step ahead. Immediately, she leaned forward, grabbed him by the hair and held him down with the other hand on his back. "Be a good dog," she growled at him.

The group teased and taunted him. "Aren't you 'good for it'?" "You were such an obedient boy before." "Don't be a pussy!" "Come on, you know you're practically wearing it already..."

She leaned down in front of him and smiled. Without a word, she opened the collar and fastened it around his neck. Angela didn't hesitate to take the leash and rest her legs on his back again, while the other girl casually walked back to grab a seat. A hard smack on his ass startled him, as Angela laughed and the room burst into conversation.

After five minutes, he was passed to another girl to be her foot rest. Then another. And another. Finally, he made it back to his original leash-holder. It felt weirdly nice, as if he'd come back home. She ran her hand gently down his back and bent forward to speak into his ear. He nodded and her hand again rubbed his back.

He was led on his knees into the middle of the living room circle. One woman came over and disappeared behind him. A second later he felt her take his arms and bind them together behind his back. Another woman came over and placed a blindfold over his eyes. He felt hands on his shoulders, on his back, and on his head. When all the attention died down, he stayed there on his knees, naked, bound, blindfolded, and waiting nervously.

Something poked at his lips. It felt like a fingernail. He relaxed and let it in his mouth. It stroked his tongue slowly and left. He felt a warm hand caress his cheek. Next was something wet. Not what he might have hoped, however, as it went further into his throat and he could taste the sweet juice of a strawberry. He ate it, swallowed, and smiled. The next object inserted into his mouth was harder, bigger. He couldn't tell what it was, but he heard the team giggle and hoot. Another object pushed against his lips and made its way inside. This one felt harder than the last, not to mention colder. The team howled at it, whatever it was, and he started to feel caught up in the naughty fun of it all. He pushed his head onto it more and made a slurping noise. He heard the ladies give their blessing, quite audibly, as it left his mouth.

Then things went silent. After a moment, he heard only three words: "Open your mouth."

His lips parted. Something touched them briefly, before touching his tongue as well. It felt different from everything else. It was soft, spongy, and had a strange texture to it. His fear began to mount, particularly when the onlooking women let out little gasps, quiet moans, and eventually oohed and aahed. But it couldn't be. They wouldn't.

Someone grabbed him by the hair and the object went deeper down his throat. The crowd noises grew louder. He began to breathe heavily. It pushed in and out, in and out. Louder and louder the crowd became. He started to gag. In and out, in and out. The hollering around him was now getting somewhat scary.

In a flicker of a moment, all was revealed. Off went the blindfold. He heard the clicking of camera phones amidst laughter and cheers. He saw the legs of a woman standing in front of him. He also saw it hanging from her waist. It was skin-toned, a fleshy texture. It was thick and long, thicker and longer than his. And it was more than halfway down his throat.

Reacting impulsively, he spit it out and cursed them. How could they? He felt like he had been nothing but a source of cheap amusement to them all along. His heart raced, his cheeks went red, just as he felt two long arms come from behind him, under his own arms, and slide seductively over his bare chest. The cursing stopped. The college blond standing before him watched with a smirk. He froze in his tracks, trapped like an animal.

"You didn't like the tip we gave you?" It was Jackie's voice.

"What the FUCK?! Let me go, you crazy bitches!"

The room laughed. "Oh, come on. You thought you were gonna get to fuck all of us tonight. But you're our bitch here."

He wrestled in his restraints and made exasperated sounds.

"Listen, boy," she said next to his ear, with his chin in her hand. "You're only leaving here on one condition."

Oh god, he thought to himself. What horrible thing do they want me to do now?

"You have to be able to look Christine in the eye and tell her you don't want that big, hard cock of hers."

That was it? He breathed a sigh of relief and looked at the woman before him, standing impatiently with one hand on her hip. He tried to ignore the rod dangling from her crotch.

"I--"

"Oh no," Jackie interrupted. "You don't get away that easy, little boy. I said look her in the eye."

Christine crouched down until her face was staring into his. She had a trouble-maker's grin. And dammit, she was a hottie.

"I--"

She took her cock in one hand and began to stroke it.

"I... don't..."

Her head tilted back and her eyes relaxed. The grin on her face got wider.

"I don't want..."

"My big, hard cock?" she asked bluntly.

He sighed an anxious laugh. The girls nearby goaded him on. "Take it like a man!" "You know you want it." "You were sucking it so hot!"

"Just say the words," Christine said. "You really don't want me to feed you my big, hard cock?"

Why was he hesitating? He felt pressure on all sides, from the girls, from his ego, from his mind, and...

"Your little dick seems pretty happy about sucking my cock. It was so stiff when you had me down your throat, and it's nice and stiff even now!"

Blushing instantly, he blurted out: "I don't want your-"

The team leaned forward. "Well?" Christine asked.

He hung his head. She sighed and stood up.

"That's what I thought, bitch."

Suddenly he felt his hands were free. He turned his head around. Jackie was looking down on him disappointedly. As he turned back, he could see many disappointed faces. Was this what he wanted? Was he really so scared of pushing himself, of trying something new? Christine had started to walk away when he yelled out, "Wait!"

She turned around where she stood and would not move closer.

"I can't say it," he confessed. "I thought I could only leave if I said it..."

"Oh, you can leave," Christine responded with some anger in her voice. "But if you want to be honest with yourself, you can tell me you want it now."

"I... do."

"Not that," she answered. "You'll have to say you want to suck my big, hard cock. Really, really bad."

With all the courage he could manage, he fought his embarrassment and squeezed out the words: "I want to suck your--"

He felt the staring eyes, the eager ears waiting for him to succumb. Christine came over and crouched in front of him. She could see his breathing and her smirk returned.

At last, he looked her in the eye and said, "I really want to suck your big, hard cock. Really, really bad!"

She yanked him to her by the leash, shoving his face against her strap-on. The girls standing by expressed their pleasure verbally, and moved in closer to watch. He opened his mouth and took Christine's dildo eagerly. He felt a hand grab his erect penis. "Look how hard he is!" Another hand smacked him on the ass. "He wasn't kidding about sucking her cock!" He felt like a sideshow attraction, with the group of women gathered around to be entertained and to be pleased. It was oddly arousing.

One pair of hands took him by the hips and pressed down on his back, making him get on all fours. He felt a cool, sticky sensation in his asshole, followed by pressure. Hands touched, slapped, and fondled his body. Fingers poked into his ass. Christine held his head still while she shoved her cock down his throat slow and deep. He gagged a few times, but once it was in all the way, she nodded to someone behind him. He felt something--

Oh. Wait. It was... not a finger... something bigger... going... in...... his......... ass!

Hands came to rest on his ass cheeks. A moan came from behind him, and then Jackie's voice, telling him to relax and let her in. "An ass like yours just has to be fucked, boy."

Jackie pushed in, Christine pulled back. Jackie pulled back, Christine pushed in. Eventually, the two converged into the same rhythm. Cock down his throat and cock up his ass. At times it felt like their strap-on dicks might touch somewhere inside of him. When he gagged and choked on Christine, Jackie spanked his bottom hard. When he resisted Jackie's thrusts, Christine slapped him good. Jackie dug her hands into his cheeks, molding them like clay. Christine ran her hands through his hair, over his face, and held his head where it belonged. The rest of the team cheered them both on.

"My turn," a familiar voice interrupted. Christine pulled out and moved to one side. Angela slowly walked towards him, an even bigger cock hanging from her. She wore only boy shorts, under the harness, her large naked breasts dangling in just as impressive and intimidating a manner as her dick. He soaked in the sight of her. She knelt down in front of him as Jackie continued pounding away at his ass.

"I picked out these dildos," she said. "I went with realistic looking ones because of how they can fuck with a boy's head. Smooth plastic colored ones don't bring out the insecurities in some guys like a long, thick, fleshy, skin-toned cock can. Make a boy take one of those and you've really made him your bitch. Maravilloso."

"The girls and I talked about how we'd have our way with a boy some day," she continued. "Someone to follow our orders, to do what we say. If it's just him against us, we figured we could convince him to submit. I told them my ideas, like strap-ons and serving drinks. The more we talked, the more we all liked it. But finding the right boy was the hardest part. Now here you are. Show me you're the bitch we've been waiting for."

Taking her cock in one hand and his head in the other, Angela forced him onto her. He couldn't handle her size. He coughed, gagged, choked, and spit it out. Jackie smacked his bottom. Angela forced her way into his throat again. Once more, he coughed, gagged, choked, and spit it out. Again, Jackie gave his ass a good smack. Angela took his head with both hands and slowly thrust into his mouth, telling him to concentrate on breathing through his nose. Finally, he started to take more of her, until she suddenly pulled out.

"You call that sucking cock?" She slapped his face. "I call it making me do all the work. Show me you crave my fucking cock. Show me you're worthy of being our bitch."

He put his mouth on her dildo and tried his hardest to choke it down as fast as he could. As he started to gag, Angela pulled out and gave him another slap. "Again," she barked at him. He licked it and stuffed it down his throat, determined to show her he was worthy. But his other cheek got the slap next. "Again," she demanded. He began to feel frustrated and inadequate. With every ounce of persistence, he forced her dick into his mouth, fucking his own throat with it. After a minute, she pulled out and stood back, watching him for a second. At Angela's nod, Jackie pulled out of his ass, too. He sank to his knees, feeling like a failure.




The Team



When she was ready, Angela approached him and slapped him so hard he nearly lost his balance. She bent down to his level, looked him straight in the eye, and said, "Again."

Nervously, he did the only thing he could think of doing. He fell against her legs, rubbing her cock with his face. His hands felt up the shaft, slowly. He sighed deeply, then licked her long dick in one sensual motion. He kissed it, fondled it, and finally took it into his mouth. Looking down on him, she began to breathe heavier, too. As he picked up the pace, she put her hands on his head. Her eyes opened wider as he now started to make moaning noises. He put his hands on her hips and could feel her thrust at him as he inhaled her cock. She started to grunt pleasurably.

The mouths of her teammates hung open. They couldn't believe what they were witnessing. Even Jackie and Christine seemed surprised. Someone softly said, "...fuck yeah."

Then the quiet broke. Hoots and hollers, cheers and teasing filled the room. "Show her how it's done, boy!" "Take that fucking cock!" "Make him worship it!" "Pound his ass, Angie!"

Once she had enough, Angela pushed him off her dick and laughed. "Good bitch," she said, smiling hungrily at him. He didn't know whether to be thrilled or frightened. "You know what's next, don't you? I am gonna pound your ass with my big fucking cock. But first you get to beg for it."

She had barely finished her sentence when he burst out with, "Oh god, please pound my ass with your big fucking cock, Miss Angela!"

Her smile became a devilish grin as she knelt down, pulled him by the leash, and forced her tongue into his mouth. Before standing up again, she stared into his face and growled at him, baring her teeth. He bent down onto all fours.

"Yeah right," she cackled. "You're gonna be fucked like a bitch. Get your face down and your ass UP." Her hand pressed on his back until he assumed the position.

"Thank you, Ma'am."

"Pull his cheeks apart," she said to her friends. He felt hands grip his cheeks, exposing his asshole for the taking.

It was just a little pressure first. Then more. Then-- fuck. FUCK. Fuuuuuuuuck.

She would wait on no one. Her large cock went in and it went in deep. Right away, she moved her hips like she'd been fucking holes with her cock for years. Her hands took over his ass, grabbing it like a vice. He gasped, moaned, panted, and cried out. She pulled his leash, pressed down on his back, and plowed him thoroughly.

The camera phones were snapping again. The girls came closer, touching him, tormenting him verbally, and delighting in the whole scene. Again, one got a hold of his cock, calling attention to how incredibly stiff he was while taking Angela's enormous dick in his ass. "You like Miss Angela's dick, do you?" asked one of the women.

"No, he fucking loves it, don't you, bitch boy?" Angela growled at him.

"Yes, Ma'am!"

"SAY IT."

"I adore your dick, Miss Angela! I love it!"

For his confession, he received an approving smack to his right ass cheek. "You seem to like cocks in general. Girls, I think he wants more..."

Jackie and Christine lifted his head up by the hair and rubbed their strap-on dildos against his face. Obediently, he licked, kissed, and sucked them.

"He seems really hungry for cock," Angela chuckled. "Let's make sure he's well fed."

Other girls began to switch places with Jackie and Christine. Eventually, others switched places with Angela, too. When he could see anything, it was usually a dick dangling between a pair of lovely legs, waiting to be serviced. When he could see anything else, it was another member of the team, strapping on her cock. They were intent on filling him up good tonight. He was going to bring in a lot in tips, and a lot more than tips...

By the end of the night, he never did get to put his dick in any of them. They had planned it like that from the beginning. It was like a game of truth-or-dare, and he always came up on the losing side - powerless, vulnerable, exploited. He thought they were inhuman bitches for it at first, but deep down he knew why they did it, why they wanted it, and something in him found his own need to surrender. They were all he could think about, as he sat at their feet quietly after they'd each had their way with him.

He wasn't even mad when they tossed him his boxers and told him to make the walk of shame back to his car, wearing nothing else. They were all he could think about, as he drove home, still feeling them inside of him. A night that would live on in his mind forever, in ecstatic infamy. Maybe, just maybe, he hoped, he had been enough of a good boy for them that they might call for him again some day.



The Team Completed



Michelle was slowly getting extremely pissed off. She'd arrived at the court for their practice expecting the other girls to be there and no-one was. OK, she'd been a bit early but she'd assumed that at least one of the others would be there or would arrive shortly. But no. They didn't turn up to the very last moment, the four of them chatting and giggling, apparently about last nights date. Michelle had asked what the story was but they'd just waved it aside with a casual "You'd have to have been there." 

So they got off to a slightly late start, but that didn't really matter. Their practice had started slowly but smoothly, the team honing their skills and working together the way a team should. No problems.

Then it was all downhill. The rest of the team started clowning around and grandstanding, and Michelle didn't have the faintest idea why. She pushed a bit harder to see if they'd straighten up and get with the plan, but things just seemed to get worse. Those idiots were giggling and having fun, but they weren't getting a proper practice in. Michelle had had enough and she called the girls together for a huddle. 

"OK. Would someone care to tell me what's going on. I'm a big girl now. I'm nineteen. Nothing you say will shock me, but if someone doesn't explain fast I'm going to kill one of you and bury you under the goal post as a warning to future players."

"You can't. It's floorboards, not dirt," someone giggled, and Michelle turned a fulminating eye on the offender.

"Ok, OK," Nicki said in a hurry. "It's him. He's turned up to watch the practice."

Michelle looked around. There was one spectator, sitting on the seats at the top of the stand. "Who was he?" she wondered. "Oh, yes. That's Rick. I've seen him around. Why's he upsetting them. He doesn't seem to be anything special."

Michelle turned back to the team. "What's so special about him? Why are you all playing up to him?"

The team seemed to be quite interested in looking anywhere but at her, and no reply was volunteered. Michelle felt her frustration and her temper rising.

"Look, he's a nothing," she protested. "I mean, can you name even one girl he's dated or managed to talk into bed?"

Nancy muttered something, but Michelle was sure he misheard.

"Sorry, I don't think I caught that. Could you repeat it, please."

"I said," said Nancy, loudly and clearly, "that I could name four."

Michelle looked at the rest of the team, who were looking back, a couple of them blushing slightly. It didn't take a genius to decide which four were being referred to.

"All of you? You've all slept with him? When did this happen?"

"Last night," said Nancy, "and there wasn't much sleeping involved."

"And the rest of you?" queried Michelle. 

"Nancy just told you," pointed out Sandra. "Last night."

"But..." Michelle paused, not quite believing what they seemed to be saying. "Are you saying he fucked all four of you last night?"

"He banged me at the party, and promised he'd see me home safely," said Sandra. "I drank too much and fell asleep, but he was as good as his word. He got Nicki and Nancy to help him take me home to the dorm."

"He stopped on the way home, stripped us and screwed both of us. For some reason we just couldn't say no." Nancy supplied.

"When he got to the dorm he carried Sandra up to our room," sighed Jan. "Nicki and Nancy were trying to explain to that dragon of a warden what was going on, and he did something to slow down the elevator. He walked into our room and dumped Sandra on the bed and then looked at me. I'd always liked him and have talked with him quite often, and he just smiled at me and I was only wearing those shortie pj's of mine and then I wasn't and you can guess the rest. It turns out he can perform very quickly when he needs to."

"We were discussing what happened this morning, and that's when we found out just what he'd done. Or who he'd done, I suppose I should say," giggled Nicki.

"He actually had sex with all of you in one night? He must have the balls of a bull."

"And a cock to match," came a quiet comment, with smirks appearing on the faces of the team.

"I'm starting to get hot just listening to his exploits," said Michelle with a grin, "but I'm not having him disrupt our practice. Let's all go and have a chat with him and chase him away."

Leading the way Michelle and the team headed up the stands to confront Rick. 

"Rick," Michelle greeted him with a nod of her head.

"Michelle," Rick gravely acknowledged, with his own polite nod.

"You presence is disrupting out team practice. You appear to be distracting the girls."

"I just happened to run into some of the team last night, and I thought it might be interesting to watch them in action," returned Rick, blandly. "I don't mean to disrupt things."

He smiled at Michelle and she blinked. "God, he's lethal when he wants to be," she thought. "That grin went straight to my pussy. Arrogant prick."

"Yes,' Michelle said derisively. "'Ran into' are the right words. I heard how you 'ran into' them. With that sort of performance we could be excused for thinking that you're here to complete the team for trophies."

"Well yes, thank you. It's kind of you to volunteer, Michelle," said Rick, with another of those smiles that seemed to bypass her head and pluck straight on her emotions and nerves.

Rick reached over and while Michelle and the team watched in stunned surprise, he lifted Michelle's skirt and slowly pulled down her panties. Michelle stood, rigid with shock as she watched her panties sliding down then off, not even thinking of protesting until it was too late and Rick was placing her panties on the seat next to him.

Michelle was stunned. "Do you really expect me to have sex here, in the stands, in public, in the middle of the day, when I barely know you?" she asked scathingly."

"Yes, that's the idea. There's only us here. If anyone else comes they won't see anything because the rest of the team will block their view."

"You're mad. And the rest of the team will see. They're public. No. It's not going to happen."

"No, they're your team. They'll be cheering for you. And yes, it is going to happen."

With one hand he reached out and took her hand, drawing her towards him, while with the other hand he flicked open his zip.

"Do you seriously think I'm going to let you do this," asked Michelle, feeling helpless, watching his erection pushing against his open fly, and realising that she was feeling incredibly aroused by the whole scenario.

"Yes," came a rather bland answer, as he drew her down next to him and placed her hand against his open fly. Despite herself, Michelle found her hand slipping through the opening and taking hold of Rick and extracting his erection so it stood free. "Like the team had said," she thought, "he's built like bull."

Rick reached over and drew her across his lap, facing him, pressing her to him so his cock was pressing against her pussy. She found herself rising to allow Rick to position his erection under her pussy, pressing firmly against her lips.

She found herself slowly sinking onto his cock. Without knowing how it had come about she was completely yielding to him and in front of the team. She turned her head to look at the team, only to find them staring back fascinated at what was taking place before them.

She turned back to Rick and stared at him and that infernally sexy smile of his, as she sank down, accepting the full length of his cock into her tight pussy.

"What now?" she wondered. "Is he just going to bang me?"

"How long have you booked the court for," Rick suddenly asked. "The court? Who cares? I thought you were going to have sex with me?" thought Michelle. "Why worry about the court now?"

"Thirty more minutes," called out Nancy, "but no-one's booked it after us, so we usually have use of it for an extra hour."

"How long can you sit still, Michelle?" asked Rick,

"What?"

"Don't move. Just sit there the way you are."

"Just sit here?" she thought. "I've got a cock jammed all the way up my pussy, so far up I can nearly taste it, and he wants me to just sit?"

Michelle sat, determined not to move until Rick did. "All I can feel is this cock in me, and I'm just sitting." "I can feel that thing trembling with every breath he takes. How long do I have to just sit on it."

Michelle could feel her own breathing moving her gently against the invader, little ripples of sensation slowly snaking their way deeper into her. 

Sitting, ever more conscious of the erection inside her.

Her slightest movement causes her delicate insides to rub against his cock. Same with any movement he might make. Little movements, gently stirring. She tried to slow them by holding her breath, had to gasp and sagged slightly. Bad move. That thing inside her seemed to surge a little with joy at the movement.

"How long do you expect me to just sit here?" she whined. "As long as it takes. You can always chicken out," came the placid reply.

No way was she going to back down. If he wanted to just sit, they'd just sit. Michelle started fantasising about telling Rick to just sit, after she jammed one of the sports departments Indian clubs up his arse. That's what it felt like from where she happened to be sitting.

Sitting, slowly riding his monster. "Are we in a contest for the worlds slowest fuck?" she wondered. "If so, I should have been warned. Damn it all, she could feel her heart beat, throbbing against his cock. Or was that his heart pulsating through his cock and into her?"

Michelle was losing track of where she ended and Rick began. There mutual pulses were causing little throbs that were coming faster as her heart rate increased. She was starting to breathe heavily, which once again increased the agitation between her and that damned erection.

"Oh, god! I'm going to climax just sitting here. It's not possible."

Possible or not, it was slowly but inexorably happening. 

Michelle was breathing even more heavily, feeling all those tiny movements combining, uniting, becoming one constant friction deep inside her, dragging her where she didn't want to go but couldn't resist. The explosion occurred deep within. Michelle, was shuddering, gasping, trembling from the force of it.

Relieved that it was over, and feeling just that little bit disappointed, as though she had missed out on something. She opened eyes she hadn't even realised she'd closed and looked at Rick.

He was looking back at her, fire in his eyes and determination on his face. "Now you can start moving".

Startled but relieved Michelle stared at him, starting to rock, letting his cock more actively rasp against her sensitive nerves. Highly sensitive, she found, eager to take what they'd been denied and were now craving. 

Michelle could feel the answering surge as he pressed up to meet her. Pressed? Nothing so gentle. He was starting to hammer home his advantage, wielding his cock like a weapon, driving her back towards the climax she'd just left.

They were moving faster, now falling into the harmony of a pattern dictated by nature, welded together by his cock and their mutual desire.

Rick was thrusting home while Michelle was lunging to meet him. Rising towards a climax again, feeling his seed spilling within her and knowing what she had missed the first time, even as he flooded her and sent her over the edge to her second orgasm. 

Slowly coming down, from the heights, still sitting, feeling his cock and his seed warm within her. Sighing with regret, though just what she was regretting she didn't know.

Felt Rick withdrawing and handing her back her panties. Heard Jan suggest she take a shower before she put them on. 

Michelle turned and looked at Rick. "OK. It seems you've completed the team. I trust you're satisfied now?"

"Not yet," came the reply. "What are you doing tonight?"

"Me or the team?" Michelle demanded, sarcastically.

"The team," came the arrogant reply. "I'll get pizza in for you." 



The Team



Rick heard one of the girls mutter softly to the other. 

"I think that was rape. He forced us." 

An equally quite answer came floating back to him. 

"Oh, really? Refresh my memory. Which one of us said, no, stop or don't?"

"Now that I think about it, not me, I have to admit."

"Neither did I. Why didn't you."

There was a small sigh, and then a giggle. 

"I didn't want him to stop. It was exciting."

"Same here."

All the way back to the dorm Rick could hear the girls chatting and giggling. It sounded like they were reviewing his performance and giving him marks. If so, he didn't want to know. 

---------------------------------

When they arrived at the dorm, Sandra was still sound asleep. Rick quickly realised that it was going to take more than a gentle shake to wake her, so he offered to carry her up to her room.

"OK," said Nancy. "She on the fourth floor room five, sharing with Jan. Just take her up and dump her on the bed. We'll come up to tuck her in after we've checked in with the warden and let her know that Sandra is home as well. She'll probably come up to ensure that you do actually leave the premises. She's a stickler for that."

"Jan? That would be the Jan who is also in the team, right? I know Jan." 

Rick took the elevator while the girls went to see the night warden. While exiting the lift he accidently kicked the ash tray that was in the corner of the lift between the doors so that they wouldn't close. He glanced back at it, then shrugged. His hands were full and they shouldn't still have ash trays in elevators, anyway. If they were in a hurry the girls and the dragon lady would have to run up the stairs. Checked the door numbers and found room five. The door was ajar, but Rick politely knocked, and then shouldered the door aside and entered on hearing Jan call for him come in. Jan was standing beside her bed in shortie pyjamas, shortest he'd had the pleasure of seeing in a while. 

Rick smiled at Jan and gave her a wink. "Hi, sweetheart," he said. "Haven't seen you since this morning. Just bringing an errant girl home. Nicki and Nancy will be along shortly to chase me out and tuck her in." 

He laid Sandra on the other bed and then turned back to Jan. "I've been wanting to do this for a long time, but we won't have much time so it will have to be a quickie," he laughed.

"Lift your arms," he said taking the hem of her top, and when Jan did he lifted the top straight up and off. Startled, Jan snatched her hands back down to cover her breasts, opening her mouth to protest his audacity but froze in shock as his hands dropped, thumbs hooked the pyjama shorts and whipped them down and off, Jan stumbling back a little as he lifted a foot to free them.

"What are you doing," she hissed, realising the inanity of her question even as she asked. She flushed and felt heat suddenly rising within her. She liked Rick and had sometimes wondered if she should advance things to more than friendship now that she was eighteen, or if he put the moves on her, what she would do.

She suddenly found that yes, she would like to see what he was like as a lover, and was astonished at the way her pussy seemed to ignite while suddenly being flushed with liquid. She didn't move, but just watched fascinated as he unzipped and let his erection out, seeing him reach for her and drawing her to him. "Have to hurry before the dragon arrives," he whispered, picking her up and holding her to him. 

Jan found her arms automatically clutching around his neck, her legs scissoring around his waist while he supported her weight and gently steered her so that her pussy was touching the tip of his cock. She felt him holding her there for a moment, giving her a chance to object, before thrusting upward and impaling her with a rapid stroke.

She relaxed onto his cock, feeling it drive up into her while she just stared at him, captured by his eyes and smile. Then he was thrusting up into her with ever increasing rapidity, while she found herself pressing down to meet it, urging it on, willing to have the event gallop to a fast and furious conclusion. Jan gave a muffled cry, burying her face in Rick's shoulder as she felt him spend himself, feeling her own quick climax. She was still shuddering with the aftermath of that unexpected loving and climax as Rick lowered her to her feet. 

She stood there, staring at Rick, unable to speak, and before either of them could say anything they heard the ding of the elevator and realised that the girls and the night warden were finally on their way. Still naked, Jan dived frantically into her bed while Rick hastily kicked the PJs under the bed and turned to leave. He was just opening the door when the night warden barged in, closely followed by Nicki and Nancy. 

Rick frowned at the warden. "It's polite to knock before you enter a room," he observed. "You never know what we may have been doing."

"Yes, well I'm here to see you don't," the warden snorted. "I'll escort you out. You two get Sandra into bed properly. And you can help," she added, glaring at Jan who was well tucked into her bed, only her eyes showing.

She marched out, escorting a suitably humble Rick of the premises, leaving the girls to tidy up and get themselves to bed.

Nancy turned to Jan. "OK, Jan. Out you hop and give us a hand."

She grabbed Jan's blankets and ruthlessly stripped them back, intending to stir Jan into action.

Nicki and Nancy then stared at Jan's scarlet face, noting that she was also naked and sweaty.

"Why are you blushing, Jan?" gently inquired Nicki. 

The two girls could see the answer by the deepening blush and the look on Jan's face.

Nicki and Nancy looked at each other and laughed. 

"You too?" said Nancy, incredulously. "The man's a menace. How did you find time?"

Nicki sighed. "You know, we'll have to ask Sandra if he bonked her earlier. I suspect that he didn't just promise to escort her home out of the goodness of his heart. We could have some interesting things to discuss on the way to practice tomorrow."



The Team's Cum Bucket



The crime, the misdemeanour that warranted your punishment is unimportant. You had transgressed and now you are to get your comeuppance - and the guys in the team will get their reward for playing well.

The treatment table in the dressing room is the altar on which you are you to be 'sacrificed'. Using the tape and bandages provided for strapping injuries I have secured you cross ways on the padded vinyl of the table. Your legs are splayed painfully wide open and taped to the supports. Bent over the table in a bow shape your wrists are tightly secured to the other two legs. Totally naked, your arse and cunt face the entrance to the dressing room, through which the team will shortly enter.

Once you are secure I start to unbuckle my belt. You can't see what I am doing but you recognise the sounds and I can see you begin to tremble. Without a word I trail the thick tongue of my belt across your arse. I notice the muscles in your buttocks ripple and tense at this first deceptively gentle kiss of leather on skin. I hear the hiss of your indrawn breath as the belt is drawn back..

I freeze, belt raised, ratcheting up the tension till it is almost palpable in the cold air of the dressing room.

Then I bring it down - fast and brutal. No sound gives away the strap's approach. The belt impacts on your arse with a loud and satisfying thwack, quickly followed by your equally satisfying screams and cries, the sounds echoing off the hard concrete walls.

After 10 hard lashes your screams have subsided to whimpers and moans, your arse is a bruised, red mess. I stop when the first of my players walk in the room, muddy and sweaty from the game. Despite being tired from the game I see his eyes light up when he spots you, a carnal leer spreads across his face. A few of the team back up behind him and take in the scene.

I tell them. "Well played lads. The team whore is your first reward - use her. She's your cum bucket today, I want you to fill her".

Then I move round to where I can watch you as the first player drops his shorts and moves between your legs.

You look up at me, eyes pleading. 

"No, please! I'm not....not..ready Sir, please don' let them!"

I stare down at you, 

"You don't tell ME 'no', or argue my little slut you just obey!"

The guy behind you stops and grabs his discarded jock-strap from the floor and throws it to me

"Gag the bitch with this boss", he suggest, with a laugh. 

Seeing the merit in his suggestion I push the sweaty material into your mouth, cutting off your complaints - and most of your air. I watch as he then grasps his already hard shaft and presses it against your helplessly exposed cunt. I watch your eyes bug out as he thrusts his length into your unready hole and begins to fuck you. His hips smack against your stinging buttocks as he builds up a rhythm, taking his pleasure from you, without regard for your own. 

He takes a while to cum but when he does he screws his cock hard inside you, making sure his spunk goes deep. The second guy takes his place the instant the space behind you is vacated. His prick slides in easy as your cunt is lubricated with one load of sperm and is starting to stretch. 

He humps you fast,encouraged by his team-mates who are forming a queue, urging him to finish quickly. This is close knit team and they are used to sharing. Now they are sharing you, spoils of victory, the team whore.

When he dumps his load in you he pulls out, watching some cum drip from your hole and splash on the floor. He pushes an empty water bucket under the table, to catch the remaining drips before relinquishing his place to the next eager member of the queue.

I watch them take you, one after the other. The sixth guy fucks your arse, pausing only to wipe his cock head on your leaking cunt before forcing it past your tight pucker. I watch you nearly manage to spit out the gag whilst trying to scream. as he tears into you.

After that they alternate between your cunt and arse - some trying a little of each. The air is full of the sounds of their grunts and the squelching of cocks in your ravaged, gaping, spunk filled holes. The bucket underneath fills with the jism that flows from you in rivulets

When my team are done, and on their way to the showers, I see wide eyed faces looking in the open door. The opposition have been attracted by the sounds from the 'home' dressing room. With a cruel smile I beckon them in.

"You guys played well. Come and have as well."

Soon a new queue is forming and the relentless abuse continues. You cunt and arse must be so stretched that the guys with smaller cocks must barely be touching the side now. But they all seem to be enjoying themselves - and they all cum in you. 

By now, some of my guys are coming back from the showers. Being fit and young a few of them are sporting boners, returned to hardness by the obscene sight you present. A few can't be bothered to join the queue and just stroke as the watch the last of the opposition team finish with you, making sure to spray their second loads across your face, or in your hair.

I've lost count of how many guys have fucked you, how many loads of cum you've taken. I am sure you have no idea either. All I know is that there is a load of sperm in the bucket. When the last guy is done (and even the referee has had a go) I take the bucket and (very) carefully empty it into a squeezy water bottle. I grab your chin and twist your face towards me. 

Your eyes are sort of glazed when you look at me, I can't read your expression or emotions as I pull the jock strap from your mouth. Has my punishment been too harsh? Have I finally given my slut one challenge too many? Time to find out.

"Are you thirsty my dirty whore?" In answer I see you nod. 

I put the nozzle of the drink bottle between your lips and squeeze - hard. Instantly the best part of 30 loads of sperm flood your mouth.

I wait for the reaction and I am amazed to watch you sucking like a hungry baby on a bottle of milk. I pull the nozzle free of your mouth only for you to immediately begin whimpering, moving your mouth, seeking the nozzle of the bottle

"More, more, give me more! Give me it all" you beg. I ram the bottle back between your lips and crush it to make sure I give you every last drop. I see your body start to shake and tremble and I am awed to realise you that you are cumming, orgasming as you drink what must be a pint or two of sperm.

When your climax is passed I undo your bindings and stretch you out on the table, tenderly covering you in a blanket. You are unconscious, asleep; somewhere else. 

I leave you to enjoy that after glow and go to join the guys in the bar, beer is waiting.

On my way up the stairs I begin to wonder how we will celebrate if we win the league.



The Tear



Another week ebbed into memory. The pressure from production demands had left me frustrated and fatigued. Rumors were flying concerning the impending downsizing and morale was at an all time low among my coworkers. It seemed as if I was beyond caring, and had all but resigned myself to another lonely weekend when, as I punched the clock, my supervisor Ned invited me to a “dive” he’d found within a stone’s throw from the security gate. Feeling obligated to my old friend, I accepted his invitation resigned to endure whatever for the sake of our long standing friendship.

Being the lead man in the small production shop for the past three out of the fifteen years that I had worked for Ned, had given me a sense of tainted accomplishment, knowing full well that it was his recommendation that had landed me the position I currently held. Far be it for me to understand his affinity for me other than our tenure that had spanned both my maturation and the crushing divorce of my childhood sweetheart. Always supportive and understanding, he was a true friend worthy of any sacrifice I could offer. As I followed him into the disheveled parking lot however, I began to have some doubts as to the evenings outcome. 

The door swung inward with an irritating squeak as if begging for oil. The dusty environment was dimly lit and reeked of cigarettes and cooking grease, and I spied the small portable cooking grill atop the back of the bar. There were no more than ten tables scattered on the creaking wooden floor, most obscured by darkness and haze. Several patrons were scattered among the worn tables muttering nonsensical expletives that were occasionally punctuated by muted laughter. As we were seated at one of the more obscured tables, I noted the walls were embellished with an assortment of paraphernalia that would make a sanitation engineer groan. There were old family photos, and articles of yellowed attire including some stained panties that resembled toxic hazardous waste.

“It’s OK Ben,” my host chuckled as his signaled the aging barmaid for a pitcher of ale; “Actually the burgers are quite good, but more importantly, my wife would fear to tread within these walls.”

“I can understand her feelings Ned,” I returned quietly still in awe of the ambiance. “May I ask what in the hell we’re doing here?”

“Ben,” he stumbled as his face suddenly grew sullen, “It appears as if I’m going to lose over half of the crew due to the recent management decisions, and I needed to talk to someone whom I can trust in confidence.”

My heart leapt to my throat as I wondered if this was where he would let me down easily. What better place, I thought, than a dive that cockroaches shied away from. Filling our chipped mugs from the pitcher that had just arrived, I scarcely noticed the waitress, that shoved the twenty that Ned handed to her into her breast pocket indifferently as she swaggered back to the refuge of the dimly lit bar stool she had occupied prior to our untimely interruption. I braced myself for my unofficial termination notice tersely, as thoughts of the impending financial insecurities danced in my head.

“You’ll probably wind up with a promotion out of this,” Ben offered as he took a long drag of his cigarette and capped it with a sip of warm beer. “How does Ben Kingsman, Production Supervisor sound to you?”

Relieved, yet remorseful, I toyed with my helping of brew and stifled my response. So many of the souls I had come to know personally on a day to day basis would suddenly join the agonizing ranks of the unemployed while I tried to motivate the remaining refugees towards the feigned security upper management would surely attempt to instill. 

“What about you Ned,” I queried, almost fearful of the answer. 

“I’ve been offered a position upstate at the new plant. Moving Liz and the family is not among my list of desired tasks, but the alternative is not conducive to our financial security. There are still too many years before I can retire, especially with Jenny starting college next fall.”

“Damn,” I offered.

“Yeah.” he returned, and we both became lost in our memories of the good years gone by. A tear trickled down his cheek. Despite the muted sounds around us, the room became silent and removed as we searched for consolation. Moments later, some laborers, mostly middle aged women from the “sweatshop” across the street, began to file in amidst a babble of expletives that stirred Ned and I from our sorrows. A chorus of laughter erupted from one of the groups that had formed around a table nearby, and the chubbiest gals laughter had an almost addictive affect that made us both grin despite ourselves.

The molested waitress reappeared and advised us that if we had any intention of ordering, we better do it now before everyone else gets started. Ned complimented her on her thoughtfulness as he studied the weathered menu. She shrugged it aside and stood impatiently as she studied his suit incredulously. We both went for the grease burger and fries with a warm-up on the beer, perhaps silently hoping a heart attack would put an end to our heavy hearts. She turned on her heel producing a squeak that rivaled a bean taco fart. We laughed, despite ourselves. 

As the evening hours quickly slid into nightfall, we nursed our heartburn and dug deep into our reserves to console each other while cursing the inevitable. By the time the second sweatshop shift arrived, Ned and I were both oblivious to much of anything other than the camaraderie that held us together for so many years. As gracefully as a drugged elephant, he excused himself amidst his ever present recommendation for me to get laid. I dismissed him with a playful gesture as he swaggered out the squeaking door, and I silently prayed he would make it home safely.

Surrounded by no names, I felt alone, and silently observed the room the had just recently began a slow cylindrical spin around my seat. The hangover was going to be atrocious. Trying to appear sober, I gazed about the smoky room at the various groups of women as they babbled about their mundane routines and their families latest crises. Ned was right, I felt terribly alone this night, and the thought of driving home depressed me even further. I ordered a cup of strong coffee. 

Another group of babbling workers entered and with nary an open table, they curtly asked me to surrender mine. Not wanting to be part of a conversation in which I didn’t belong, I politely excused himself to seek refuge in my coffee at the bar. It wasn’t until after I had stumbled up to the oak stained mantle that I realized all the weathered stools were occupied by the male minority from across the street. Knowing my capacity to drive through the myriad of Friday night lunatics was greatly reduced, I sought a landing site anywhere within the dive that would offer even the slightest hint of tranquility. A song of long ago began to replay it’s somber notes in my memory and I began to hum to myself.

In one of the dark corners, a somber figure sat silently, almost entirely obscured by shadows. As I stumbled over to the two seat table, I interrupted the melody long enough to curse myself for being so short-sighted - a characteristic I rarely displayed. The tired face that looked up at me when I arrived almost made me turn back to the bar. Yet there was a silent desperation in her deep brown eyes that somehow urged me to continue. She wasn’t particularly attractive I mused. But then a full figured middle-aged female laborer posed little threat to my misery, I concluded as I tried to assemble a non-threatening request. 

After an awkward silence, I awkwardly gestured at the vacant chair. She studied my face pensively for a few moments before she nodded. I damn near fell into the hardwood seat. Her gaze was distant as she studied me indifferently before turning her eyes back to the worn hewn table that trembled slightly as I shifted into a more comfortable position. Her long gray coat was opened just enough for me to glimpse the sagging breasts that pressed firmly against the white on gray polka-dot dress that seemed to go on forever. I wondered for a brief instant if she belonged to some obscure religious cult with a strict dress code, yet dismissed the thought quickly as I reasoned polka-dots have never been considered commensurate with conservative attire. 

Her glass of poison was empty and she gazed about somewhat wistfully as I offered to buy her another.

“Coffee looks good,” she offered in a timid whisper. Her eyes rose to meet mine, and there was a profound sadness within that bore through the beer induced haze into my deepest being. I signaled the waitress who arrived presently with another mug and a pot of year old coffee syrup. I asked for some water and diluted the contents of my mug before offering it to my companion. She smiled vaguely and turned away at my request. Taking that as a signal, I turned my thoughts back to my earlier conversation with Ned, and all of the problems it left unresolved. The world can sure be cruel.

Somewhere between the call of nature, and my attempt to rise, I realized that a long night lay ahead. The room still spun at random intervals, but now the grease was beginning to churn the sudsy contents it accompanied. I soon found myself making an embarrassingly hasty retreat toward the dimly lit mens room a scant distance from where we sat. The bathroom was a dive, and the after taste was almost as nauseating as the initial taste that stirred me into action. Trying to clean up with paper towels left me lacking also as I returned to the table well expecting my silent partner to have made a hasty retreat.

She remained, studying me intently as I weakly resumed my berth across from her. As my urge to return to the mens room subsided, a screeching voice straight from a mans worst nightmare blurted “LAST CALL” with such intensity I damn near fell off of my chair. 

“Do you live far from here?” Her suddenness startled me further, and I nodded half-heartedly.

“I live close by - you can stay if you want.”

While the thought of sharing a bed with a whale was distasteful, a night in the back seat of his car was even less appealing. With limited options on the horizon, I solemnly accepted her offer amidst a flurry of slurred apologies.

Even now, I can hardly remember the walk to her apartment in the chill, other than watching her flanks as they jiggled and swayed. I followed several paces behind her, trying to clear my head while subduing my self-recriminations. As we entered her second story flat, a stifling muskiness entered my nostrils and I remember seeing a small two-burner electric stove and a weathered rose-colored sofa with several rips that spewed discolored matting. My host gestured towards the sofa and disappeared behind a rotting door. Moments later, I heard the all too familiar sound of a toilet flushing, but was too far gone to care. Darkness covered me like a warm blanket. 

The morning sun greeted me through moth-eaten curtains as my host gently caressed my forehead with a warm washcloth. As my eyes began to focus on her, I felt a wave of panic sweep over me when I realized she had spent the night on the floor next to me with a small pillow and stained comforter. Her thin gown was riddled with holes from hand washing but her face was radiant in the dawns light. I studied her manner as she continued to gently bathe my unshaven face with her soft calloused hands. The smooth creamy skin of her unhindered breasts peeked provocatively from an opening in the front of her gown where a button was missing. 

“I’m losing it,” I thought silently to myself as I eased her hand away and sat up slowly. For a moment I heard the same drums that summoned King Kong play in the back of my head. Once they retreated somewhat, I took stock of my surroundings. It was a tiny flat that could probably fit into my living room with room to spare. The tiny kitchen had a midget refrigerator and a couple of shelves stacked with chipped dishes and dried food. The front room had the sofa, a small single bed in the corner, a four drawer dresser covered with pictures of a beautiful young girl, and an old wooden rocker where my host had retreated too. The rocker was next to the only window that overlooked a wall of similar windows a few meters distant.  She stared out at them and on into oblivion.

There was now way to hide my discomfort. I fumbled with my shirt buttons and the words to dismiss myself politely. I felt like an idiot. “I gotta go,” I muttered, resigned to the hopelessness of my position.

“I know,” she returned quietly without averting her gaze.

As I walked towards the door, my heart fell around my ankles. I turned just before reaching for the doorknob and gazed at the photos of the child, with dark flowing hair and the same miniature features as the silent figure that sat across the room from me. Mustering the last frayed threads of my torn self esteem, I turned to face my host with the closest photo in my hand.

“This yours?”

“My only.”

“Where is she?”

“The State took her Friday.”

“Where?”

“They didn’t say.” She slowly retrieved some disarrayed legal papers next to her chair and held them out to me.

I scanned them briefly without the slightest idea of what they said until my eyes found the words “unhealthy environment.” My mind began to race despite the return of the King Kong drummers. All I could think of was a philosophy my beloved Grandfather taught me when I was still too young to understand. He told me that my life will be filled with decisions and consequences. When it appears as if all is lost remember, the good Lord let you get there, and he’ll surely get you out. 

“Mind if I ask where the Father is?”

“He left long before my Tara knew life.” A tear that had been forming around her eye finally spilled onto her cheek and slowly began to glide down her face, pausing only briefly at her trembling upper lip before continuing down her chin and onto the exposed portion of her heaving breast. 

Now I’ve always preferred my women slim, young and sassy. But all that ever got me was some banged bones, an empty feeling and, in the case of my ex, an empty wallet. Here I was, on the verge of a promotion, with a solid bank account and an empty abode. At that moment however, the empty abode was far more oppressive than the sum of all the consequences for my earlier mistaken decisions. Never having a child of my own, I could only vaguely imagine the pain she was feeling, but I knew it would be far more than I could endure. The world can be so cruel.

Gingerly restoring the photo to it’s resting place, I faced my host directly as the tears cascaded freely down her face. Taking a deep breath, I strolled over to her trembling form, and wrapped my arms around her shoulders with all the love I had within me. Her sobs began to subside.

“We got work to do.”

“What?”

“If you want to get your daughter back, we best get started before the State has its way with her.”

“I don’t need sympathy,” she responded meekly.

“You’re going to have to learn the difference between sympathy and support, sweetheart. Now I’d like to know the name of the girl I’m going to help support.

“Cindy.”

“OK; Mine’s Ben. Why don’t you get into something a little more appropriate then explain what those damn papers say on the way over to my place. I gotta get out of these clothes - they smell rather stinky, don’t they.”

“Yeah, they kinda do,” she whispered and smiled for an instant as she rose shakily. As she took some neatly folded clothes from the bottom drawer, I touched her hand gently. She hesitated for an eternity, then rose and embraced me with such intensity that I damn near blacked out. Then she darted to the bathroom as her face turned crimson. I grabbed a cup of cold coffee but couldn’t find any aspirin, so I guzzled the foul brew quickly to keep my blood flowing and clear my head. It was Sunday so the legal offices would be closed but by Monday I intended to have all of our “ducks in a row.”

When she emerged from the bathroom with her tight jeans and a blue cotton knit sweater, I had to pause to admire her. With her fine long brown hair framing her pixie face, she was absolutely adorable, and somehow, the clothes highlighted her figure in such a way to make it nicely appealing. When I complimented her, she blushed shyly, adding even more to her attractiveness. I breathed a prayer of thanksgiving under my breath as we headed past the “dive” to my snow covered Ford. Once Cindy was securely on board, I scraped the windshield and brushed the snow from the roof of the truck. The instant response from beneath the hood reminded me of home, and with the heater on full bore, I eased out into the Sunday morning traffic. At the first stop light, I turned to my passenger with all the seriousness I could muster and said; “Cindy, I can’t make any guarantees, but I will endeavor to. . .”

She leaned over and kissed me. How many years of pent-up emotions she demonstrated I can scarcely say, but the wind was literally sucked out of me. I sat there with my eyes wide and mouth wide open. The blaring horn of the car behind me brought me back to reality and I half skidded, half slid through the intersection to the next stoplight where I bluntly returned the favor. Her lips were sweeter than anything I ever tasted, and I’m certain the windows steamed over despite the best efforts of the heater motor. This was getting good! She slumped in her seat, obviously overcome with the moment and we spent the remaining twenty minute drive in silent anticipation. 

By the time I eased the truck into its covered parking slot (thank heaven I opted to pay the additional $15-per month to rent it) our sensory overload had dissipated to a manageable level, and we were able to enter my townhouse with a reasonable level of respectability. Skags, my worthless tomcat met us at the door and brushed by me to seek Cindy’s attention

“Traitor,” I hissed under my breath as the cat poured on enough charm to melt the heart of a junk yard dog. I cranked up the thermostat and headed into the kitchen to get the coffee going. The aspirin bottle was nestled right where I left it, thankfully. I turned to Cindy who stood in awe of my humble abode. Now I’m pretty proud of what I got beings that I’ve worked quite hard to get it, but most of my furniture is run-of-the-mill bargain basement stuff that barely compares to some of the quality things that are available at the Bon. Looking at her face though, I felt like the richest man on earth and immediately set out to show her the floor plan. My two-story townhouse has three bedrooms upstairs and the living quarters on the entry level. Actually, with its two and a half bathrooms, it’s almost two large for me to where last year I had considered selling it in favor of a small mobile home on the outskirts of town. The deal fell through at the last moment though, and my work commitments had kept me from any further serious searches. The smallest bedroom was converted into a study as it overlooked the park and was perfect for my PC. I had a housekeeper come in once a week to keep the place tidy and she did a pretty good job albeit her liberal use of air freshener was somewhat disconcerting. 

As I showed Cindy around, her eyes became larger and I could almost hear the gears cranking in her cranium. Finally, fearful that my mouth had overshot my assets, I excused myself after showing her how to use the remote on the TV. The shower was heaven sent, washing away the grime and uncertainties resident from the night before. I donned some comfortable jeans and a sweatshirt and thundered down the stairs to behold Cindy fully involved with Skags on her lap and a rerun of “I Love Lucy” on the tube. She was chuckling absently to herself as the coffee maker gurgled its final throes in the background. I paused just long enough to realize that my home was no longer empty.




The Tear



“Should we try to count how many chocolates Lucy can cram into her maw,” I queried when a commercial for some facial cream flashed onto the screen. She looked startled for a moment, then turned to me with a warm smile. 

“No,” she replied simply, and rose from the sectional and strolled over to where I stood meekly. She had taken her shoes off at the door, so my chin rested squarely on top of her head when she embraced me. We kissed again, only now the shyness was replaced with passion as my arms slid around her back and her arms pulled my face to hers. We kissed for an eternity, the warmth of her being chasing away the few remaining traces of emptiness from the deepest recesses of my soul. Her hands slid underneath my sweatshirt and began exploring every pore of naked skin concealed there. In turn, my hands slid beneath her sweater and caressed the deliciously delicate skin that melted beneath my touch. Our breathing became rapid as our hearts proclaimed the level of excitement burning in our loins. My hardness began to exert itself against her tummy and she pressed against me firmly acknowledging her desire. 

The phone rang.

“Damn,” I hissed as I broke our embrace. It was Ned, wondering if I was alright. 

“Yeah, thanks Ned. . .well I met a gal last night and. . . I know this might be a bad time, but do you think I might get a few days off. . .you’re coming over. . .well take it slow and park in the covered stall next to mine as the neighbors won’t be home till next week. . .OK, see you in a few.”

Cindy smiled at me half apologetically, and half disappointingly as she walked towards the kitchen. She wriggled her toes in the carpet with every step she took until she reached the cool tile. Fumbling through the cupboards, she quickly found the coffee mugs and poured some coffee. In turn, I reached for my trusty highliter and a pen and pad in the desk by the stairway, and grabbed the papers she had brought before dropping into my favorite recliner. She handed me the coffee nervously, and sat next to chair on the carpet.

I began to half mumble through the lines of legal jargon, trying to find the basis for Tara’s kidnaping when Ned knocked on the door. Cindy sprang to her feet and had the door opened before I could get the recliner to its upright position. “Well, who’s little girl are you?”

She turned to me and pointed accusingly. “His.”

“Howdy Ben, and you are. .?”

“Cindy.”

“Hi Cindy, Im Ned. Ben and I have worked together for. . .years!’

“Longer than I care to remember Ned!” I retorted. “Don’t care to date myself.”

“Indeed, how did it go last night?”

“Ned, if it wasn’t for Cindy, I’d probably be an icicle! How did it go with you?”

“I’ve definitely had warmer home comings, but when I explained the personnel disruption, she took it pretty well.” He paused for a moment and silence fell like an A bomb. “I smell some coffee, got any left?”

Cindy turned on her heel and within moments handed a steaming mug to my boss.

“What do you have there anyway, Ben.”

“Child custody papers, the State got involved with Cindy’s daughter and I’m trying to wade though this legal bull to restore Mother and Daughter.

“I don’t know, I hear those child custody things can get kind of messy depending on the judge. Let me have a look if it’s alright with you Cindy. “

She nodded resignedly.

Ben studied the papers slowly, thumbing through the text slowly amidst occasional grunts and nods. Finally, after reading the last page, he looked up at Cindy and I while rubbing the stubble on his chin. “They have some pretty serious allegations here. I don’t see any easy solutions except one.”

“What’s that, Ned?”

He sighed and rubbed his bloodshot eyes. “Cindy, looks like you better settle down with someone with a broader security base than you have.”

“Come again,” she queried.

“Your current income of 12k per annum won’t stretch far enough to provide the habitability requirements the State requires. A good health insurance, for example, will take almost a quarter of your income not including a housing upgrade and ‘non-specific’ expenses as required by law. Have you ever considered a higher paying job?”

“I’ve tried, desperately, I’ve tried,” she countered quickly.

“With all of the lay-offs at our plant it would be highly unlikely. . wait a minute!” Ned’s eyes lit up like a pile of hot charcoal sprayed with starter fluid. “We could take you in as a student aide, and that would give you 18k a year.” He fell silent again.

“What is it boss,” I queried anxiously. “I don’t know if that alone would convince the judge. Putting the ‘Mother - Daughter’ argument aside, you’d have to finish high school before I can put you on the payroll. You would also need to change your residence, and prove that your income will be steady for the next several years. There are several other requirements, but the increase in income should resolve those. It looks like a GED would be your best bet, Cindy, but even so, it will take at least several months before you can get Tara back. Would you like me to speak to the administration on your behalf?” 

She nodded gravely and stared at the carpeting in front of where she sat.

“Ned, this may be way out of line, but what if Cindy and I got hitched?”

“Ben, that would put Cindy into a really awkward position but, to answer your question directly, that would probably be the quickest way to reunite this lovely gal with her daughter. It’s your decision, but it would take a lot of work - you’d have to adopt Tara immediately and she might have something to say about that!”

“Good points, as always my friend. I’ll take it under advisement.”

“Seems to me, you two have a lot to talk about.” I’d better be heading back to the Misses anyways, I owe her a dinner after last night and would just as soon get the score settled now rather than listen to her nagging.”

I got up and walked him to the door with Cindy at my side. I gave him my warmest handshake and Cindy threw her arms around him appreciatively. He smiled and left with a wink when I cautioned him to stay in the ruts. Closing the door quietly, I turned to my new found love to find tears in her eyes. She gathered the coffee mugs together and washed them silently as I struggled to find the right words to say. Wiping her hands she turned to me without making eye contact.

“Please take me home,” was all she said.

“OK, if we hurry, we can get your things moved in before nightfall.”

“I can’t,” was all she said, as tears cascaded down her cheeks.

I took her hand a silently led her to the sofa. “Look,” I began as I tried to form my words knowing full well they carried the weight of our future. “Last night, while you were probably in the lowest point of your existence, you allowed a drunken stranger into your home and offered the best of what you could offer. I can’t believe loneliness was your sole motive, especially after the trust and caring you showed me. I know a lot is happening to us right now, and I’m not going to pressure you into something you’re unsure of.” She glanced up at me inquisitively and sniffled. Undaunted I continued; “But I’d never forgive myself for letting go of one of the most precious souls I’ve encountered.” I reached into my wallet and pulled out one of my few remaining business cards. “I’ll take you home now, and give you time to sort things through, but know that I’m more than willing to build my life around you and Tara if you’d offer me the same commitment.” 

I rose from the sofa, strangely relieved, and held out my hand to her. She took it shyly while still staring at her feet. We got our coats and shoes on and headed out into the afternoon breezes where clouds obscured the bright sun of a few hours earlier. I took it as an omen as we drove silently to her pad. She opened the door quietly and slid out into the cold. Her eyes turned slowly to meet mine expressing volumes of heart songs before turning back to her lonely world. Once inside, I pulled away slowly to return to mine. The snow began to fall.

Skags damn near ignored me when I opened the door, reminding me that I had overshot his morning feeding by over six hours. I stumbled over to the pantry and pulled out his favorite, as a deafening numbness chilled me to the core. The football game turned out to be a bone biter until the last final seconds when the Hail Mary pass landed in the first row of the end zone seating. I began to zone on the events that led me here, and succumbed to the gentle whispers of fatigue. Sleep can be such a blessing. 

At first, I thought the gentle rapping was connected to my dream until a second, more forceful report stirred me from my slumbers. A quick glance at the wall clock confirmed the darkness that fallen around me. I turned down the thermostat as I reached for the door handle. I opened to behold the shivering form of Cindy, adorned in several layers of clothing. She reminded me of the Michelin Man after losing a bout of mud wrestling. Beside her was a large overstuffed suitcase and there were several carpetbags in her hands. 

“Why didn’t you call,” I croaked as my heart leapt into my throat.

“I don’t have any money,” she mumbled as she reached for the suitcase and crossed the threshold. “And I needed the time to think.”

I took the suitcase and one of the smaller bags from her and followed her as she walked up the stairs and directly into my bedroom. She dropped her shivering torso on to the bed and looked up at me as she slowly unbuttoned her dark wool coat.

“What’s going on, Cindy?”

“Last night as you slept, I saw something in you . . .”

“Perhaps it was the same thing I saw in you this morning when a tear crossed your cheek.”

“Perhaps,” a slight smile crossed her face, “If what you saw made you want to spend the rest of your life with me.”

“Tomorrow, let’s get the rest of your furnishings, and . . .”

“All of what we have are in these bags; I gave the key to the manager.” She had now disrobed to a long red knit sweater that covered her completely to below her knees where the oversized sweat pants emerged in loose folds all the way to her ankles. I could almost feel the falling arches in her tiny feet, and immediately dashed for the bathroom and my foot massager. As I plugged in the machine and immersed he feet into the warm soapy water, I beheld her tired features transform into pure ecstacy. Her sweat pants were in a crumpled heap next to the clothes hamper. I propped several of my larger pillows behind her to keep her upright and stowed the luggage in the back of my walk-in closet.

After heading back downstairs to secure the TV and lock the front door, I mixed a Baileys and cradled it gently as I made my way back to the bedroom. She was asleep, and in her repose I saw an angel with the face of innocence emerge. As I set her drink on the night stand, she stirred back to my world and smiled again. Her hands took mine and rubbed them gently against her face as she cooed softly. Pulling me towards her, we embraced and rolled onto our side at the head of the bed. Her hands began to tremble as she fumbled with the buttons on my shirt and jeans. I became instantly aroused, and began to explore the smooth textures of her thighs where there was no underwear to hinder me. She was shy, yet driven, and began pulling at my clothes almost in desperation. I was literally overwhelmed with her passion until my hand found the smooth shaven patch that masked her femininity. Her body responded instantly as she caught her breath and closed her eyes. Taking advantage of her momentary pause, I eased her onto her back and dove into the musky dampness like a hungry bear. As my lips found her swollen lips, her body convulsed violently several times. A long wail heralded a fountain of her essence that damn near blinded me. This was too easy! I went in again, burying my face within her bush until my tongue found the center of her passion. Her back arched at almost a surreal angle as she groaned in orgasmic agony. There was far more liquid than I could possibly consume erupting from within her, and I began gasping for air as she held me firmly to her quivering pussy. Her ecstatic sighs were the sweetest music I’ve ever heard. 

Somewhere amidst the continual convulsions her body arched skyward for one final orgasm in which every single muscle in her body appeared to tense to its limit, before she collapsed with a weak sigh. I thought I’d killed her and had visions of explaining to some plain clothed cop the events leading to her demise. As I reached for the phone, I felt her hand touch my arm and turned to the softest eyes ever placed in a persons head. Her fine brown hair was splayed around her face, and again, I swear I saw an angel appearing where she lay. We kissed, and more was said during that brief interlude than in a lifetime of Headline News. 

She pushed me on my back and removed the last vestiges of my attire. Her eyes widened and she paused to examine my body with the awe of a child in Disneyland. “Your perfect,” she whispered, and covered me with the gentlest kisses and caresses imaginable. When she reached my straining manhood, I was far to stimulated to endure any further torture. Pulling her onto me, I slipped between the delicious folds of her sex only to feel her force her body onto my groin. She threw her head back and whimpered as I enjoyed the tightest velvet enclosure my organ had ever been surrounded by. There was a sudden warm rush of her essence as she climaxed again and crumpled onto my chest. The muscles within her contracted rhythmically to her sighs, and with just a few short thrusts, I had to let go within her. The burning ecstacy lasted for an eternity as my seed pummeled her womb. Again, I felt the familiar tightness in her body, as she was wracked with yet another orgasm; her contractions forcing my seed back out into the cold, cruel world. 

We slept fitfully until the phone rang early the next morning. It was my boss.

“Coming in this morning, Ben?”

“Want to be my best man, Ned?”

“Well that answers my question; I got you covered.”

“Thanks boss, I owe you.”

She turned to me sleepily, grabbed the phone and returned it to the cradle. “You own me now - mister,” she murmured as her hand found my erection. 

“Mind if give you a breast exam?”

She giggled and her sweater soon landed atop her oversized sweat pants. I threw the pants away later that day, as we headed for the courthouse.

In conclusion; I got the girls, the promotion and a bright future. Cindy got her GED and is now working as an administrative assistant to the CEO. Ned told the directors where to go that Monday and is now the CEO. The three of us visit “the dive” together ever now and again but we always go home after the first pitcher is drained. And Skags is now Tara’s cat - what a traitor. Life is good.



The Tears of the Stars Pt. 01



Thanks to everyone for reading my story. This is a new genre / category for me altogether. I'm hoping to make this a lengthy series. Please note that this is a slow story, not a quick stroke story. As always, thanks to Winter Lotus without whom I'd be lost. Please comment and vote. I don't care if it's good or bad, I just love feedback. 

****** 

Jackson Travers bent back a thin, white birch branch growing across his footpath. No one ever came out this way. Jackson knew the area well though. He jumped down into a limestone ravine following it along until he found a natural staircase where the rock jutted out in sharp, grey-green points and climbed up to the other side. Hunters never came out this far, nor hikers. It was his own place when he wanted to get away from people. 

It had been a wet winter and the underbrush grew back thick and green. Today was the tenth consecutive day in the high nineties. The sweat beaded along his brow and stained the armpits of his t-shirt. His friend, Mike, told him that the heat wave was part of global warming, but his mother said that was all hooey. His mom said it was all God's plan. But that was her answer to everything. Jackson thought it was just hot and that one day it wouldn't be anymore. Winter would come. It always came in the mountains. 

He let out a whistle peering into the trees. It only took a minute for the mutt to come bounding out of a thicket of brush, tail raised, and tongue hanging lazily from his maw. His sister named him Fudge due to his light mocha color. Jackson didn't make a fuss about it. He'd pulled him from a dumpster when he was just a pup and now the dog followed him everywhere. He was part chocolate lab and part pit bull as best as he could gather, and about as fierce as a kitten. 

Fudge watched a squirrel scurry over a rotten log. He laid his head low and lifted his hind quarters high in the air wagging his tail excitedly. Then he let out a low growl and leapt forward in a clumsy, playful manner trying to give chase. Jackson laughed and waited. 

It felt good to laugh. He wiped the sweat from his brow and slicked back his thick blonde hair. He thought about his sister, Stacy, again. She'd been so upset when she ran into his room this morning with tears streaking her innocent cheeks. She crawled up into his bed and nuzzled her head against his chest and held him so tight. He tucked her blonde curls behind her ear and held her there. Jackson cared for her deeply. No doubt his mother had laid some guilt of the Lord on her again. One day they'd both get out of this little town and away from her guilt. 

The leaves rustled in the distance. An eight point buck lumbered cautiously and then startled and darted off in swift movements. Jackson snapped back to attention and continued on adjusting the weight of his climbing pack. He'd waited an entire week to get back out to this spot—to investigate his discovery. It took another hour before he made it to the limestone rise. It had been covered with dirt and moss when he stumbled upon it last week. He had quite literally stumbled and tripped scraping his knee. When he had looked back to see what caused his fall and brushed away the leaves and dirt, he saw the circular stone edge peeking out from underneath the muck. 

The stone looked oddly too circular, Jackson had noted. So he kept clearing away the debris, which was as much as a foot thick on one side, until he sat back covered in filth staring at something that he was certain was manmade. It was a stone as flat as could be, perfectly round, with edges that looked to be cut with precision. The disc was five feet in diameter and easily a foot thick. It looked too well made to be of any age, he thought. There weren't any signs of tooling on its surface, but then he couldn't figure out why someone would make such a thing just to dump it out here. Not unless they hid something underneath. He had laughed off the notion initially, but all week he dreamt of this stone and eventually decided to make an adventure out of it. At the very least it got him out the house, and he liked it out here. 

He set out all his tools. Then he dug into his bag and removed his camera and took a picture from a few angles. Best to document things, he thought. Fudge came running out of the woods and skidded to a stop next to him. Jackson set the camera down and picked up a crowbar. He tried to slide the edge under the lip of the disc. He just hadn't accounted for the weight of the thing. There was no way he could lift it on his own. If there was something hidden underneath it then he'd have to move the disc in pieces, he thought. 

"If I can break it..." He said aloud, thinking. Then he looked at the thickness. It was a huge chunk of rock. "It might be too big to break." 

He walked back to his pack and pulled out the sledge hammer. Standing in front of the disc, he pulled the sledge up over his head and with all the strength he could muster he brought the peen down dead center. The crack rang out through the forest. He brought it back up again. Crack! And again. Crack! He spent a half hour pounding at it while the sweat soaked his shirt. He took another determined swing. 

Jackson stopped for a moment as he watched a hairline fracture grow through the surface of the stone. He took the sledge and cracked it into the stone one more time. The small fracture widened until the disc split into three jagged pieces and sunk inward at the center. 

"It's hollow underneath." He whispered. Fudge whined and tucked his tail between his legs. "What's wrong, Fudge?" The dog just backed away and kept his distance. 

A smell of stale air rose up between the pieces of broken rock. Jackson tied a rope around the largest piece and threw the other end over a branch using the leverage to pull it back a few feet. The other two pieces teetered over the hole. Jackson grabbed his flashlight and shone it down into the darkness. 

"What the..." The hairs on his arms stood up. 

In the darkness, a set of stone steps descended into the black below. They were narrow and steep and barely wide enough to walk on comfortably. He couldn't judge the size of the cavern. Jackson leaned back and set about securing the last two pieces of rock before they slipped into the opening. His heart was racing faster now. He hadn't really considered what he might find. 

Jackson tied his rope to a tree and dropped the other end down into the cavern. If the stairs are broken, he thought, I might need a way back up. He wrapped the elastic band of his headlamp around his head and checked that it worked. Then he tucked another flashlight in the pocket of his cargo shorts and tightened the laces on his hiking boots. He walked to the opening of the cave and knew immediately that this might be a terrible idea. 

"Please don't let me die today." He whispered. 

Jackson took a few deep breaths and stepped down onto the stairs. The cavern was narrow and the steps were carved into the walls wrapping around into the darkness. He took his time edging himself down, careful not to slip. He glanced over the edge letting his headlamp illuminate the cavern. The bottom was another forty feet below. 

Once he touched the ground, he breathed a sigh of relief. An underground stream emerged from one end of the cavern floor, cutting through the rock, and disappearing under the wall at the other end. The cavern itself wasn't very large at all. It was an oval shaped chute that went down roughly seventy feet. It stretched about forty feet in length and twenty feet across. The walls were craggy and cold. Jackson turned around and stared curiously at a set of ornately carved stairs in the wall leading to a doorway hewn out of the rock. Not limestone anymore, Jackson thought, this part of the cave was bedrock, granite maybe. The stonework was impressive with intricate glyphs adorning each stair. 

He stepped closer feeling uneasy. His heart beat fast in his chest as he ascended slowly studying each glyph. When he reached the doorway his legs felt weak. Turn back, he thought. Just go home. The glyph above the door glimmered when it caught the light of his lamp. He tried to commit it to memory. On either side of it was a rudimentary eye. 

Jackson gathered his courage and stepped into the doorway. "My god!" He shuddered breathlessly. 

The room was cut out of solid rock. The walls covered in writings he couldn't understand. A language he had never seen. In front of him, a long stone table stood in the center of the room with five metallic books resting on top of it. Jackson walked closer, blood pumping. His fingers reached out and touched one of the books. It shone green under the light. The cover was latched and locked. 

Jackson glanced over at two stone basins along the far wall. They were the only other items to be found. He walked around to the larger basin and peered inside. He let out a scream and fell back onto his ass crawling away on his hands until he bumped into the stone table behind him. His breathing was heavy. It took him a few minutes to gather his courage and look again. Inside was a skeleton of unusual size. The bones were larger than they should have been, the skull slightly misshapen. Jackson guessed he must have been almost eight feet tall. A medallion glinted in his bony fingers. Jackson felt an urge to have it. He needed it. A hunger burned inside him. 

He reached into the stone crypt and carefully pried it from his bony grasp. The metal grew hot in his hands until it glowed a wondrous, luminescent green. A surge went through his fingers and up his arms. He couldn't drop it if he tried. 

****** 

The council sat in the high chamber, nine members in all, ruling from their gilded thrones adorned with precious metals. Each of them had long, pristine white hair and translucent grey eyes, their skin shone so bright that it seemed they had a halo of light about them. They wore silken white robes cinched together with thin bands of gold. Slave girls tended to them obediently washing their feet and bringing them platters of fruits. The girls were naked except for their gilded collars distinguishing them as property of the Gods. 

"Brother." The high lord spoke looking down at Enoch. "What brings you to the high chamber?" 

"I have translated the last of the Books of the Ancient Knowledge." 

"So you will bestow on us more power? May we rule ever longer!" The rest of the council clinked their rings against the golden arms of their thrones as they murmured their excitment. 

"No, brother." Enoch responded. "We are mistaken! The Ancient Knowledge has been misused. The fifth book speaks of something far different than we imagined. The purpose was misunderstood." 

"Look around you! You call this misuse? We rule such a kingdom!" 

"We are worshipped as Gods. This planet was never ours to rule. And the Ancient Knowledge was never meant to enslave a people. It is meant for its true disciple. I know this now." 

"The Ancients are long dead, brother! What disciple would be true? There is no one truly worthy. No bloodlines left." 

"But you are wrong! The Ancient Knowledge does have a true disciple. The Knowledge is meant for one and one alone." 

"You would have this knowledge for one man? We have built cities and empires. We have taken concubines. We have conquered enemies across worlds. For millennia." 

"And for millennia, we have never been able to understand the true reason the Books were forged. It is not ours to judge the purpose of the Ancients. If they meant this to conquer worlds or to conquer nothing, if they meant it to destroy enemies or heal their wounds, it is not ours to determine." 

"So what would you have us do? Give it away? Bury it in a dark hole to wait for some chosen one that may never come?" 

Enoch thought that was exactly what they should do. "Without the books and the key, the Ancient Knowledge will no longer serve us. I fear if we give up the Books then we will lose that which has made us great. I am troubled. That is all." 

"Now you come to your senses, brother!" The high lord rang out. "Take a whore and some drink and forget these troubles. I fear you spend too much time reading books and too little time with other pleasures." 

"Yes, that might be true. I'm sorry to have troubled the council." 

"Rest easy, brother. We are Gods, remember. And you are The Lord Librarian, The Keeper of the Ancient Knowledge. All our people have, we owe to you. We'll speak again when you have rested yourself." 

The council clinked their rings again giving affirmation of their gratitude. It was Enoch that had deciphered the original books and first harnessed the power of the Ancients. He stood rising to his full eight feet and gave a gracious bow. He dwarfed the slave girls that stood at the side of the chamber. The high lord stared at him as he turned and walked through the silver doors that rose twenty feet tall. 

Enoch knew he would not sway the council. The power of the fifth book had brought him visions. He couldn't allow the council to know its truth. Even he could not know its whole truth. Out on the high gallery, well above the kingdom where the high council sat, Enoch looked at the marvel below, the great city forged in blood, and the people held in bondage. It would all be lost to history and relegated to myth. That he'd seen as well. It was a sacrifice he would make to honor the intentions of the Ancients. 

He had to move quickly, that much was certain. His silk robes fluttered behind him as he descended the rose marble steps from the high gallery to the pavilion that stretched across the city to the only remaining star ship. Enoch had already packed the books in the small cargo hold. If he removed the keys, the powers of the high council would be gone. Not so, for the true disciple, he thought. His power would permanent. Oh, how he wished he could live to see it. 

****** 

Four hundred suns had risen and set since he made his escape; Enoch had not been concerned about his brothers finding him. They assumed he traveled to the stars, but he was on the other side of this world in a dense forest he had seen in a vision. He found a small cave and cut the stone with the Ancient ways and built a vault where the books would wait. He pitied his brothers when he thought of them and their crumbling kingdom. 

It was a warm evening when he sent the star ship into the sky to be lost in the stars. The sun bathed his face one last time before he used the Ancient ways to move the great stone cap in place and sealed himself beneath. The days had been long and lonely while he prepared the sacred place for the disciple, like his vision foretold. 

He touched each book making sure it was placed just right. Then he removed the key from each book and fit them together to create his medallion, the key that opened their secrets. He laid down in his crypt holding on to the treasure. 

"Listen! This is the key to the Books of the Ancient Knowledge. You don't need to read the books. Others have to translate them to understand their truth, but they will teach you in their own way. You are the True Disciple. Listen carefully; the fifth book requires the Submersion. It is prepared beside me exactly as they instructed. They call it the Lifeblood. It is for the first chosen Disciple to receive their gift. I believe I was chosen to pave this path for you. I spent a lifetime deciphering these books to guide you. You must take the book into the Lifeblood. The fifth book is the key to the Ancients, a civilization that survived a billion years. The Lifeblood will bind you, cleanse you, make you strong. The Ancients chose your species. The books have chosen you. I know no more. I only hope that more is revealed to you, the True Disciple. You must wake. Jackson! Jackson, wake!" 

Enoch lifted his left hand and with a deft movement slit his own throat. The small blade fell from his grip and he clutched the medallion as he bled out. 

****** 

The surge of energy shocked Jackson back to reality. His hands were trembling as they clutched the medallion, in much the same way the man had clutched it as he bled. His breaths came short and fast. He wanted to think he was delusional. That would be the easiest way to explain it. But he was holding this strange metal object that glowed brightly in his fingers, and there was a skeleton of inexplicable size in front of him. These were facts. He could see them and feel them. The images were real too. It felt as if he were there. It felt as if he were right there breathing the air watching the people. And this man, or whatever being he was, buried himself here willingly. 

Jackson stood up and walked around toward the stone table. The medallion glowed brighter as he neared. This is the key. Jackson carefully pulled on the metal and the pieces slid apart. He set the proper piece in front of each book. And then he stood there with his arms braced against the edge of the table staring at everything. 

"This is ridiculous." He whispered mockingly at himself. "This doesn't make sense. It couldn't be real." He took a breath. "Okay, Jackson... Best case scenario, a billion years' worth of knowledge and some kind of secret of the universe. Worst case, I turn into the undead. No, no. Worst case, this is some kind of hidden camera show and I get made fun of forever." 

He lifted the first piece and placed it into the metal latch on the first book. It clicked into place. Don't read it, he thought. Jackson pulled the latch aside and opened the cover. The pages were thin sheets of metal. The markings inside were a combination of glyph and written language. It didn't make any sense to him. He reached out and placed his hand on the pages. They began to glow that green luminescent color, and Jackson's body stiffened. His eyelids fluttered rapidly, involuntarily. He could feel the mind numbing pressure in his head. It built and built until it felt unbearable. His jaw clenched so tight that he thought his teeth might shatter. Time ticked by slowly. Then it just stopped. 

Jackson felt his face and his head, all in one piece. The pressure subsided immediately, and he felt fine. He tried thinking of something, of anything, but he didn't sense anything new. He didn't feel particularly smarter or know any great secrets. He took the second piece and placed it on the next book. The process repeated in a similar fashion, but he still didn't notice any changes. He was beginning to feel silly. He simply repeated it for the third and fourth book. Then he stared at the fifth book. This was supposed to be the important one, he thought. He hefted it off the table and carried it over to the basin. The second basin was filled with liquid. 

He tilted his head over to the crumbling skeleton. "How long has this stuff been in here, anyway? I mean I really hope you know what you're doing because this looks disgusting." He reached his finger down to touch the surface. The liquid reached up from the surface to meet his finger. He pulled his hand back. "What the hell?" He waved his palm over the surface and watched the liquid respond beneath as if it sensed his movements and mirrored them. "I'm the Disciple. I'm the Disciple. I'm not afraid. I'm NOT afraid. Oh hell..." 

Jackson peeled off his shirt. He set his headlamp on the edge of the basin next to him so the light pointed in his direction. He looked around and then he decided to drop his shorts and unlaced his boots until he stood there naked, feeling foolish. Without thinking about it anymore he hopped into the viscous liquid. It tingled on his skin. He pulled the book forward and placed the last piece, snapping it in place, and then leaning back. With his hands on the pages, the book began to glow and the liquid lit up a brilliant green. It illuminated the whole room and the mysterious writing danced on the walls as the liquid sloshed. 




The Tears of the Stars Pt. 01



I have to submerge, he remembered the strange words. Jackson dunked his head under the surface. He felt the liquid move about his skin. Luminescent green tendrils of fluid wrapped around his limbs and torso and neck. They held his body in place keeping him submerged. Panic set in and Jackson tried to thrash and move for the surface, but it held him under. He struggled and fought. His eyes shot open unable to reach the air a mere foot away. He couldn't hold his breath any longer. His mouth opened and he inhaled involuntarily. The fluid filled his lungs and his body went still as the fight left him and his body floated limply, suspended in a sea of brilliant green. 

****** 

Jackson Travers burst out of the stone basin in total blackness. He couldn't remember where he was. His stomach convulsed and he retched an endless stream of fluid. Why couldn't he breathe? He retched again pouring fluid from his lungs. His entire body ached, every inch from his toes to his scalp. He gulped in his first good breath. His mouth gaped open gasping and searching for more. 

He crawled from the tub and fell to the hard stone floor. He felt around blindly until he touched his shirt and shorts. His shorts, he thought. He'd put an extra flashlight in there. He remembered now. He fumbled through the pockets and found the light, frantically searching for the button, and rejoicing at the sight of the thin beam. He looked around the room again. He pulled on his shorts and shirt and knelt down to lace his boots, still gasping. The headlamp was still on the basin, so he grabbed it, pressed it on and off and knocked it on its side. No luck. It was good thinking to bring a second light. Then he reached into the liquid and removed the book. 

He set it back on the table. That thing almost killed me, he thought. Nobody would have found him down here. He would have been lost forever. Assumed missing or killed or run away. He almost walked out, but he turned back. He took the pieces off of each book and fit them back together. At least he'd get a souvenir. 

Jackson climbed the steps carefully. He took the dangling rope he'd dropped through the hole earlier and tied it to his waist as he moved up. He didn't trust his legs, even his bones hurt. Everything hurt. He could hear Fudge howling. He reached his arms up onto the surface and pulled himself out rolling onto his back. 

Fudge came running over licking his face and whining. "I wasn't gone that long." He scratched behind his floppy brown ears. But the dog looked too happy to see him. The sun was still high. He'd be home by early evening. 

Jackson covered the hole with sticks and leaves and dirt. He packed his tools and shouldered his bag, pulling out the sandwich he'd made before he left that morning. He split it in half and gave part to the dog who drooled as he watched. Jackson felt like he hadn't eaten in ages. They walked together, making their way back through the forest, out into the open fields that led back to the road. It took hours. 

The corn in the fields was waist high already. The green stalks stood in tall, straight rows. Berne, New York wasn't really known for much at all. It was a small community in the Catskill Mountains just west of Albany. It was full of simpler people. Jackson had grown up here his whole life. He didn't really know much else. They didn't have much money either. It was never a conscious decision to stay here after high school. He'd started working at odd jobs, which turned into a regular handyman thing, and then he found he had a knack for woodworking. Now he built custom furniture and cabinets and whatnot, but the demand was low in this area. He didn't make a lot of money, but it helped out with the house and bills. 

Jackson felt good helping. His mom had a gift for making people feel guilty. That was part of it, but his dad died when he was just seven, and the years had been hard. It felt like his obligation, like he was the man of the house. His sister, Stacy, was seven years younger than he was too. She was still swaddled when it happened. And she looked up to him, as she grew older. He'd raised her and been her best friend when his mom spent long shifts at St. Peter's Hospital. They'd been inseparable. And helping was as much for her as anyone else. 

He kicked a stone when he turned onto Ketchum Road watching it skip and bounce down the dusty ditch off to the side. It was just a little ways further before he turned to his left down the gravel driveway to their modest one-story home. He wondered if Stacy would be there. He remembered how sad she was this morning. Jackson had felt bad for her. He wished he could take away her pain. He wished his mother went easier on her with all the Catholic guilt and the strict rules. She wasn't a kid anymore. She'd graduated this year and turned eighteen. But she'd probably get stuck in this town like the rest of everyone. 

Jackson walked around back to the barn he used as his workshop and dumped his tools. He hefted the large door back on its track and latched it closed. Then he made his way toward the back of the house, up the wooden steps onto the deck he'd built the year before, and opened the sliding glass door that accessed the kitchen. 

****** 

Stacy Travers had been sitting at the kitchen table with the phone in front of her for God knows how long now. She'd taken to biting her lower lip and fondling the silver cross on her neck. Her blue eyes were puffy from crying and lack of sleep. She still looked like a picture of innocence, sweet and hopeful and beautiful. When the back door opened, it was most assuredly an answered prayer. There was no other way to explain it. Momma told her if she prayed hard enough and long enough that good Lord would listen. And he had. 

She jumped from her seat with such emotion that it tipped over backward fell to the floor. The tears started again but they were happy tears this time. "Jackson! My God! You're home! Where have you been? We've been terrified. We called the police. People have been looking for you. Momma's just a mess over the whole thing..." 

Fudge snuck through the door and devoured the food that was left in his bowl. Jackson looked at his sister with queer eyes. "Why would you go off and call the police?" He asked. He was tired and the pain was still scourging through his bones. He looked at the clock on the stove. It was 5:30pm. "I've only been gone since eight this morning. I went hiking with Fudge, like I always do." 

"Four days ago, Jackson! You left four days ago! What I am supposed to do without you? You can't ever leave me. Ever." She bawled and threw her arms around him. 

"What are you talking about four days ago? That's the dumbest thing I ever heard. I haven't been gone four days." He wanted to think she was joking but the tone in her voice and the worry on her face began to concern him. 

Stacy grabbed his hand and pulled him to the counter where her cell phone was charging just a few feet away. She unlocked the screen and showed him the date that popped up clear as day. Tuesday. 

"Tuesday?" He read it, confused. 

"What happened to you?" Stacy asked looking at him covered in filth and grime. 

"I just need to take a shower and get some sleep okay. I... I'm not sure exactly what happened. Just let me get cleaned up." 

Jackson peeled off his clothes in the bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror. Something didn't look right. He leaned forward with his face an inch in front of the mirror and held his right eyelid open with his thumb and forefinger. His blue eyes were flecked with luminescent green. He blinked twice and looked again. It was definitely there, like it was inside them, a part of him now. Maybe he was just tired, he thought. 

The shower felt particularly good. He scrubbed himself clean of all the dirt and worry and concern. It felt like he washed off pounds of burden. It felt good, better than good, it felt cathartic. He thought he might just stay in this shower for four days. But he knew the hot water would only last another ten minutes. Four days, he thought again. He ran over the events in the cavern. Could that be true? Jackson wrapped himself in a towel and walked down to his bedroom. He hopped on his bed staring at the ceiling. He could never remember being so tired. 

Stacy knocked on the door and walked inside. "Jackson?" She said in a low voice. "Aren't you going to tell everyone where you were?" She sat on the bed next to him. "Aren't you going to tell me at least? Momma's gonna be home soon. She'll want to know." 

It was hard not to notice the smile on his face. He looked up at her. "Come here, squirt." He said. She hated that nickname. He patted the bed beside him and she laid down with her head on his chest, just like she had this morning, or was it a few a days ago, he wasn't sure. Before either could utter another word, he was fast asleep. 

****** 

Jackson was having the most vivid dream. He'd been floating through space, past galaxies and planets and civilizations, tumbling effortlessly, peacefully. He was surrounded by the most beautiful creatures with long, thin, delicate limbs and slender bodies. Their skin glowed like white pearl, smooth and soft. Their faces shaped like gentle ovals with narrow mouths and supple pearly lips. They had slight round outcroppings for ears and thin narrow noses, which barely looked like noses at all. Jackson couldn't help but gaze at their eyes. They were big and round and curious, almost overly large, and they were black as ink with the most brilliant, luminescent green in the center, as if you were looking at a thousand green exploding nebulas all at once, constantly changing, and as one spread out across the dark black ink, another exploded in the center anew. 

Something about them made him want to cry. He felt hope and sadness, happiness and despair, as if they cried out for all things. Then they pushed him forward with their gentle fingers into the brightest light of space he'd ever seen. Brighter than he knew anything could be, blinding and beautiful, and it covered him, and filled him up, and made him feel like he'd explode into a trillion rays. 

Jackson sat straight up with his eyes wide. "They couldn't procreate!" He exclaimed with sudden realization. 

"Ooh child! Don't you go giving me a start like that! Oh Lawd, you done give me a heart attack." The nurse fluttered her hand over her chest. "Now, what was that you were saying?" 

Jackson was still focused on his revelation. "They couldn't procreate." He repeated. "They lived a billion years on their own. It was too long for one life." There was more to it than that, but he couldn't figure it out completely. 

"Child, Eighty is too long. Seventy-five would be just fine with me. Anything past that and may the good Lord take me. Amen!" She threw her hands up in praise. "I guess I gotta send the doc in. You some kinda something she never seen before." 

That's when it occurred to him that he had gone to sleep in his bedroom and woken up in a hospital. It was confusing. Jackson eased himself from the bed and walked into the bathroom. A loose hospital gown hung off his frame. He could see the green flecks in his eyes. The dream had brought clarity. Not much, but some. He'd seen a vision of himself in that cave. That fluid was meant to bind the Ancient knowledge to his DNA. It was inside him now. Enoch was right. It cleansed him, but not how he had thought. It cleansed him genetically. It rid his body of imperfections and coded it with information. But beyond that, he still didn't understand much at all. He didn't know how to use it. He went back and sat on the hospital bed trying to understand. If these beings were so intelligent, why hadn't they just explained to him how it worked? It didn't make sense. 

"Jackson," The woman said coming in with her chart, "I'm Dr. Monroe. It's good to see you awake. You gave your mother quite a scare. Do you remember what happened?" 

"I'm not sure what you mean." 

"Well, how do you feel? Let's start with that." She asked. 

"Great, actually." That was the one thing he could say with absolute certainty. Physically he felt great. 

"Do you know why you're here?" 

"Not really." He replied. "I went hiking on Saturday morning. I came home in the evening and took a shower and went to sleep. When I woke up I was here." 

"I see." She said pushing her glasses back onto the bridge of her nose. Jackson noticed how attractive she looked with her brunette hair pulled back. "Well from what I've been told, you went hiking on Saturday. You were missing for days. Your sister reports you coming in on Tuesday evening and acting confused. Then you went to sleep. Now your mother called me on Thursday when you hadn't woken up. She was concerned. So she brought you in to the hospital to monitor you. That was three weeks ago." 

"Excuse me?" He asked. 

"Well, what I'm saying is you went hiking almost a month ago. And what you're telling me is you went hiking yesterday. Did anything happen to you? Did you fall? Did you hit your head? Anything that you can remember?" 

"What are you saying? I've been in a coma?" 

"Not exactly." Dr. Monroe replied. "I never put in an IV or a feeding tube. We did an MRI and you had such bizarre results that the technician can only assume that machine was malfunctioning. It seems that you've been sleeping. Just sleeping." She stopped and leaned forward, looking at him carefully. "I'm going to be real honest, Jackson. Your mom is a friend of mine. I promised I'd run every test there is to run. I've had to hide what I was doing which could get me in trouble. Hospital bureaucracy and red tape is tedious and I wanted tests done, not to wait for authorization. Not to mention, I had to hide the results I did get because other doctors would be very interested in you. You haven't eaten in almost a month. You haven't gone to the bathroom. You haven't had any exercise. But you have increased muscle mass and bone density. The MRI says you have phenomenal brain activity, like nothing ever recorded. I'm not sure it's a malfunction. You are the most perfect person I've ever examined. Your organ functions are perfect. All of them. You're in better shape than when you came in. Leaner. Toner. It seems everything I test is perfect. It doesn't make sense. So help me make sense of it." 

"I can't." He said. 

"Because you don't have any idea, right? What's happening here is not medically improbable, it's impossible. It goes against logic and reason. I need logic and reason. So, I don't know what to tell your mother. I don't know what to tell my colleagues." She stated calmly, truthfully. 

"I don't know what you want me to say." Jackson replied standing up. He found the running pants that they must have dressed him in before bringing him here. He pulled the gown off while the doctor stood there. He looked down noting his body for the first time. "Oh man." He whispered as he touched his chest and abdomen. He looked at his arms and flexed his muscles. He glanced up at her. "I didn't look like this before. I'm not really sure how to explain it." 

"I'm not going to lie, Jackson. I've never seen someone in such perfect shape." Dana Monroe flushed as the young man stood in front of her naked. He was younger than her, but his eyes looked wiser than she felt. His body was thin and cut with muscle. And his... She caught herself staring and looked away shyly, suddenly feeling unprofessional. 

Jackson stared down and saw that his cock was as enhanced as the rest of him. It was bigger and thicker than he remembered as it hung limply between his legs. He slid on his pants and found the t-shirt pulling it over his head. He looked at the clock. "It's late." He said. "I'd like to go home. Can I go home?" 

He hadn't answered her questions, and she knew there was no reason to keep him here. She longed for answers. All she could seem to say was, "Yes. I'll drive you home... if you let me ask you some questions and check in on you in the next few weeks." He nodded. 

They walked together down the hall. The night staff scurried back and forth marking charts and entering doors. These were his mom's friends, her coworkers; although he was thankful the other nurses hadn't noticed him yet. Jackson was still confused with a quiet in his heart. The weight of what had happened suddenly felt burdensome. Why him? What was he supposed to do with this gift? It made him feel alone. He liked the doctor at his side. He could sense her intentions were genuine. He was comforted by her smile and the smell of her hair as she walked beside him. He was attracted to her, and he could feel his body react as the urges filled him. It wasn't like him to react this way to a beautiful woman. 

Dana hung her white coat in her office and put away his chart while Jackson stood gazing through a window into a separate part of the hospital. He watched a mother holding a little boy's hand as if she were afraid to let it go. 

"It's the children's wing." Dana said coming up behind him. "Leukemia patients mostly." She noticed him staring at the little boy. "He doesn't have much time left. He barely sleeps due to the pain. We let his mother spend the nights at his side now. Such a sweet boy." 

Jackson opened the doors entering the large room. Hospital beds lined the wall on either side. Half of them were filled with small bodies hooked to big machines that droned with rhythmic beeps and hums. He walked down quietly until he stood at the end of the little boy's bed. Dana padded along behind him trying to keep up. 

"Hi." Jackson said in a loud whisper to the boy. His hair had fallen out completely and his eyes were sunken. "I saw that you couldn't sleep. I couldn't sleep either. And I thought I would say hello. My name is Jackson." 

"My name is Josh." He replied with pained breaths. 

"How old are you, Josh?" 

"Five." 

"Do you like stories? My friend, Dr. Monroe, says you're not feeling well, and I always like to hear a story when I'm hurting. It's not very long." 

"Okay!" He said, wheezing his excitement. 

Jackson looked at his mother who smiled sweetly with the saddest eyes. He pulled up a seat and sat right next to the bed. He took Josh's hand in his. Dr. Monroe watched with a sincere smile as he comforted the child. 

"This is a story that took place a long time ago. It happened on the other side of the universe. So far away that it would take us ten thousand years just to fly there in a rocket ship. But way out there on the other side of the universe there was a planet with people that look a lot like you and me. Their planet had huge fields of tall grass that stretched out as far as the eye could see. And the people built these great grass houses and they farmed the land. At night they played music and danced and sang." 

Josh was mesmerized by the story already. He listened intently as Jackson continued. "One day, a boy got sick. A boy about your age. The villagers brought in all the doctors and all the healers to try and make him better. But no matter how much they tried there was nothing they could do. His family was so sad. Each night after they went to sleep, the little boy would walk out into the grass fields and stare up at the stars. There were a billion glittering stars over his world. He'd stare at the stars and pray to get better so his family wouldn't be sad anymore. The boy got sicker and sicker, but he would still crawl out of his grass house in the middle of the night and pray to the stars. He'd pray that much harder. One night, a single star was so moved listening to the boy's prayers that it filled up with sadness. It got bigger and bigger and brighter and brighter until it exploded into a million yellow tears. The tears floated down from the heavens covering the boy and healing his illness." 




The Tears of the Stars Pt. 01



"He got better?" Josh asked hopeful. 

"Not just better, he grew up to be a great healer dedicating his life to helping others. He had something he said each time someone came to him begging for his healing power. Do you want to hear it?" 

"Yes!" Josh squealed. 

Jackson moved from his seat on sat on the edge of the bed. He placed a hand on Josh's chest, closed his eyes, and when he opened them the flecks of luminescent green glowed brilliantly. He spoke in a language strange and beautiful that sounded like a whispering wind. Then he smiled looking at the boy. 

"What does it mean?" Josh asked reverently. 

Jackson removed his hand from Josh's chest. It means, "Behold, for I am the tears of the stars sent forth to heal all things." He paused and smiled. "Do me a favor, Josh. I want you to pray to a star tonight. And maybe you can grow up to be a great healer too." 

"Okay." He said. "Mom, I'm going to grow up and be a doctor." 

The tears welled in his mother's eyes. "Of course you are, honey. My little soldier can be anything he wants." But she knew the words were hollow and she burst into tears as she said them. 

"Be well, Josh." 

****** 

Dana Monroe pulled her car to the side of the road in front of Jackson's house. He hadn't wanted to wake anyone. His mother would be suffocating and tedious, not that he faulted her for motherly instincts. And his sister pained him in a different fashion. He didn't know how to protect her forever. He wasn't sure what his future would bring. But he was fast feeling like he didn't belong here, or anywhere. He was different now. 

"That was quite a story you told Josh. Very imaginative... and very sweet." She said looking over at him and smiling. "I hope you didn't give him false hope. He only has a week or so left." 

Jackson was staring out the window at the stars. "What makes you think I imagined it? Or made it up? Is it impossible to believe that there is something else out there?" He turned to face her without waiting for an answer. "He had a lot less than a week... Thank you for driving me. You didn't have to, and I appreciate it." He opened the door and stepped out walking down the driveway toward the barn. 

Dana watched him disappearing into the night, her face etched with confusion. There was something mysterious about him that bothered her. His eyes mesmerized her. They had an engaging conversation on the drive. She hadn't wanted it to be over but he had ended it so abruptly. Maybe it was his gratitude at the end that bothered her. She turned off the engine, following him down the gravel driveway in pursuit. In pursuit of what, she wasn't sure. 

"Hey!" She said as he slid the barn door open on its track. "Jackson!" She called again when he hadn't turned. She followed him inside, grabbing his shoulder and spinning him around. "What is it with you?" She asked. "What is it that you're not telling me?" 

"I..." He said. "... I can't explain it..." 

"Please!" She pleaded. "You can tell me. I won't tell your mother. I won't tell anyone. Why is it that when I look at you I feel so... ughh..." She cried in frustration. "I don't even know..." 

Jackson leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. His eyes shone brightly with flecks of green as his kiss lingered in a way he could not control. Then he pulled back. Her brown eyes looked surprised, but her lips were still pursed were his had left them. Her brunette hair still tied back loosely. The desire had been bubbling up inside him, and he couldn't contain it. He wanted her. The urge felt unusually strong. 

Dana wasn't sure what to say. She hadn't expected him to kiss her, but something about him was so intoxicating. "I'm ten years older than you..." She began to protest. But his eyes, she thought. She felt as if she could drown in them. Her lips found his again. 

Jackson took her cue. His hands reached down and pulled her blouse from her skirt. She broke the kiss trying her best to regain some composure. "We can't." She said feebly. "That's not why I came back here... It's... we just can't..." 

He leaned forward and kissed her again. "You mean we shouldn't." He corrected her. "You're beautiful." He added as his fingers fondled a button on her shirt. "And I want you." The words came out filled with need. 

"This is such a bad idea." She mumbled with a half-smile and a glance that betrayed her desire. 

"Maybe." He smiled back vulnerably. All her restraint snapped, like a bowed branch under the weight of a winter snow, and she leaned forward and locked her lips with his again. 

Her hands found the bottom of his shirt and lifted it over his head. She felt him reach down to the hem of her skirt pulling it up around her waist, and then backing her toward a low work table where he assembled his furniture. She worked furiously at the buttons of her blouse, as he reached for her panties to slide them down. 

"I haven't been with a man in a long time." She said breathlessly between kisses. 

"I've only been with one girl." He whispered back. 

Those seemed like the right words to calm her nerves, as her hands reached the elastic of his running pants and slipped them down. His cock throbbed thick and hard. He lifted her body gently, feeling his new strength, and set her on the edge of the table facing him, her legs spread wide. 

"Ow, wait..." She lifted herself slightly and pulled a wrench out from under her holding it up. 

"Sorry. I wasn't going to bring that out until later when things got really kinky." 

"Shut up." She laughed pulling him closer. She couldn't be sure what came over her, but she wanted him even though she knew it was wrong. He was a patient. 

She wrapped her hand around his cock, admiring it, as she admired everything about him these last few weeks as he lay sleeping. She could feel the moisture between her legs and then she guided him inside her. 

"Oh God!" She moaned. Her blouse hung open and her breasts heaved in her lace bra. "That feels so good." 

He rocked forward gently letting the motion of their bodies move his thickness inside her. Jackson couldn't remember having such a carnal hunger. Being inside of her felt right and it caused his eyes to burn their special color as he lost himself in the pleasure and pushed harder and deeper. Dana grunted and groaned as she felt him bury his length until it was completely lost in her. She stared into his eyes with her mouth slacked open, watching him as he pounded into her, a hand pressed against the hard muscle of his chest. His movements were deliberate and rhythmic, like those of someone far more experienced. Dana watched his hips thrust pushing himself in and out, over and over, without ever breaking his stride. His stamina seemed endless. 

Jackson lifted her off the table and slipped off her blouse. He bent her over a newly lacquered dresser. Her legs were parted in her high heels, and her skirt was bunched around her waist. She glanced back at him over her shoulder wondering what was taking him so long. She saw him stroking his cock, staring at her ass, his eyes running over every inch of her. 

"You're so sexy." He said with a hunger in his eyes. 

Dana felt the rush of excitement like she was on display and desired. She wiggled her ass to show her impatience. She wanted him inside her again. He stepped forward stuffing his cock back into the tight grasp of her pussy. Jackson grabbed her hips and began pounding her from behind. It was more animalistic as their bodies collided. Dana jolted every time he bottomed out. None of her previous boyfriends had ever fucked her this way. This was fucking, she thought in the haze of her excitement, surprised at the relentless force. 

"Ohhh! Yes! Ohgod!" She moaned out as he pumped into her deep and hard. It felt so wrong, yet so right, getting fucked over a piece of furniture by a younger man. The climax crept up on her. "Oh fuck! Yes!" She cried out one last time and then she clenched down on his cock as the sensations ripped through her. Her body slacked and her breasts crushed into the dresser. 

Jackson slowed his movements and then pulled himself out of her. "Let's find something more comfortable." He said helping her up and then lifting her into his arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs clamped around his waist. He walked toward a set of cherry stained, oak stairs and carried her up to the hay loft. She was surprised to find a dresser and mattress and small nightstand. "When I work late, I sometimes spend the night out here." He said. 

"What did you do to me?" She asked softly with a crooked, satisfied smile. 

He sat back on the bed and Dana followed him down landing atop of him. She unclasped her bra, shedding it. She grabbed his cock and slid it back into her pussy. Her breasts were larger than he had expected when they spilled out, with light brown areolas and thick nipples. They bounced in small circles as she rode his length. Jackson's hands were touching her all the while, fondling her with an electric touch. Dana concentrated on bouncing on his cock trying to recreate the force he used earlier. She came again as her hips ground down on him. 

Jackson flipped her onto her knees and got behind her. He felt his orgasm building. She had a round, full ass that gave her figure such a shapely appearance. He grabbed onto her hips and pulled himself deep inside of her. "Ohgod!" She squealed. His thrusts came fast and hard, and he lost himself in the movements. He felt the ache in his balls as they lifted and he exploded inside of her. Jackson collapsed on the bed next to her. They laid there in a heap breathing heavily, not saying a word. 

"That was amazing." She cooed, breaking the silence as she lay across his chest blissfully. Dana finally looked up with a sly smile. "Am I really only the second girl?" 

"Yes." He said laughing lightly. "You know my mother. It's not easy to date while living in this house. I've got the shame of Lord on me now. She's well intentioned I guess, but it's difficult." 

"How long ago?" She asked. 

"It ended over a year ago. I just couldn't live here and make it work. She left me." 

"I'm sorry to hear that." She replied. "You know that we probably shouldn't have done this, right? I didn't mean for it to happen when I came back here. I don't want you to get the wrong idea." Dana added with the strange reality of his mother and his age creeping back in. "I... I don't know if it can happen again." Dana was cautious, and this was an unexpected break from her usually careful choices. 

Jackson gave her a warm smile. "I'm glad we did. It's nice to share something beautiful with someone beautiful. Even if that means we can't do it again. Why should I feel bad about it? Who's to judge my decisions? My mother? Your colleagues? My friends? God? I'm tired of that kind of judgment. But if we can't do it again, it would be your decision. And I'd respect that." 

"Who are you?" She said smiling. "Everything about you is a mystery to me. That answer was perfect... too perfect. Like every test result at the hospital. Like the story you told Josh." She traced her finger along his chest as she thought. "You disappeared, Jackson. You reappeared. You slept for three solid weeks. And then you became perfect. You even fucked me perfect. But that's the thing, Jackson. Biology is not perfect. Humanity is not perfect. So why do I feel like something is wrong, like you're holding something back." 

Jackson got up and opened the hayloft door. He stood in the opening smelling the grass and feeling the hot, humid air. He looked up at the stars again. They meant something different than they used to. "What would you do if you could live forever?" He asked glancing back at her. "I'm serious." 

"I don't know. I'd try one of everything." 

"And then what? How long would that take?" 

"I don't know, Jackson. What does that have to do with anything?" She asked frustrated. 

"What if I told you that you couldn't have a lover? That you can never share intimacy and never have children? But you could live forever, see everything, try everything, and learn everything." 

Dana was quiet for a moment. "That's... that's just sad. That's what I think." 

He turned and leaned against the frame of the doorway, looking at her. "You know why I like you? It's because you have a genuine heart. You're a truly good person. You believe in science and reason and helping others. But you believe in love and kindness and strength of spirit." 

"I appreciate that, but you barely know me. How can you be so sure?" 

"I can see it. You have a big heart. It's easy to see." He said looking at the curves of her body draped across the mattress. "Let's say you lived forever and gathered immense knowledge, but the cost of eternal life was too much to bear so you found a way to end to your existence. What would you do with all that knowledge?" 

"We're back to this again?" She sighed. "I guess I'd compile it and leave it in a library for everyone to have." 

"What if some of it was dangerous? What if some people couldn't be trusted with it?" He asked. 

"You really aren't going to let this go are you?" She huffed. "Well, let's see. If I could live forever and I had the greatest wealth of knowledge in history... I would take my time... I have time, that's established... and I'd find the right person who I truly believed could be trusted to make sure it was used for its best purposes." 

"One more question, what if that person doesn't know what to do with it? I mean, what if he or she ended up using it for poor purposes?" 

"Well that would be a shame." She said, a silence hanging in the air. 

Jackson thought about it quietly for a minute. "I want you to spend the night here with me. Right here. In my arms." 

"I'm not sure that's a good idea." Dana replied. "What would your mom say?" 

"It doesn't matter." Jackson replied waving her over toward him. She wrapped the sheet around her body and joined him on the ledge of the hayloft door, their legs dangling down. 

"What would Jesus say about it?" She teased, knowing his mother's strong faith, and still deciding on her answer. 

"I'm having a crisis of faith right now, Dana." He wrapped his arm around her as they looked out on the starry night sky. "But I'm pretty sure Jesus would have started disagreeing with us an hour ago." He sat quietly for a moment. "I like you. You're beautiful. And I'm happy with you in my arms. Stay." 

A smile swept across her face. "Do you always say the right things?" She asked. She didn't need him to answer. "Yes. I'll stay." He leaned in and kissed her. 

They sat silently, happily, on the ledge together. It felt natural being there with her, he thought, the way she laid her head against his shoulder and shared the night with him. Jackson lifted her to her feet and pulled her back to the bed, wrapping her naked curves in a tangle of his arms until they fell asleep. 

****** 

Dana slipped from the bed early in the morning before the sun had risen. He's just a boy, she thought. What had she been thinking? She looked around the barn seeing how he had redone the interior of the hayloft with stained support beams that matched the staircase leading down. He had a talent, she thought. She padded softly past the large stacks of oak and pine and redwood. Smelling the sawdust and sap mixed with oil that greased the blades of the band saws and table saws. Everything had its place, nice and orderly. 

She stopped at home to take a shower and change her clothes, her mind replaying the evening in her head. The shower hadn't helped. Rubbing her hands over her breasts as she lathered herself only made her wish they were his hands. After she dried herself, she picked out a lime green skirt, a white blouse and some heels. She set everything on the padded fabric bench at the end of the bed. She decided to rest for a while. 

It was only six-thirty, and she didn't need to be in until ten. She leaned back on her queen sized bed thinking of him as her hand drifted between her legs. For being just boy, he certainly made her feel like a woman. Maybe he was right. Who was there to judge them? She did enjoy his company. He did satisfy her surprisingly well, and she liked talking to him. He was handsome. It seemed like he was exactly the kind of person she'd been looking for, but never found. He was just too young, not to mention, the son of a coworker. The harder she looked for reasons it was wrong, the more she convinced herself that maybe it was right. Her left hand moved to her breast and kneaded the soft flesh, while her right hand stayed down there rubbing in light, soft circles. 

****** 

Jackson lay fast asleep in the hayloft. The morning sun beamed through the open hayloft door. He was lost in a dream again. This time he dreamed of Dana and the feeling that coursed through his body when he was inside of her. He'd never been particularly great with women. He was a shy teenager, reserved and nervous. Even when he'd lost his virginity, he never succumbed to the need satisfy those urges as often as he might have wanted. He had been taught to resolve those issues on Sunday in the Lord's house. But the desire he felt with her was different, stronger and primal and urgent. 

Stacy ran excitedly from the house. Momma called from the hospital to say that Jackson was brought home last night. They didn't realize it when they'd gotten up this morning. But the barn door was open. He must be in there. She missed him so much and couldn't wait to see him. 

"Jackson!" She hooted when she reached the open door. "Jackson, are you in here?" She scampered through his work area and bounded up the stairs two at a time, praying to see him when she reached the top. She rounded the corner and stopped dead in her tracks. "Jackson?" It was practically a whisper this time. He looked different, thinner and more muscular, but it was the erection that seemed to hypnotize her. She shouldn't look. She knew she shouldn't, but it was towering and thick and hard. 

Stacy averted her eyes. She sat down on the end of the mattress, and whispered his name again. It was hard for her not to look back down there. Momma always told her that she shouldn't see that part of man until she got married. But she knew Jackson had a girl for a while, and she overheard them once talking about doing it. God wouldn't let her brother go to hell. He couldn't. Her brother was about the best person she knew. She'd been happy when that girl left him, though. Stacy never liked her all that much. 

She nudged his shoulder, but he was still sound asleep. It made her wonder if he fell back into that Snow White sleep again. She kept thinking the last few weeks that it would just take a kiss from the right girl to wake him up. She could have done it. She loved him more than anything. And he loved her too. He told her all the time. 

Her eyes drifted back again. It was still there, towering and thick and hard. She'd never seen one in person. It looked so big, too big. She let her finger tips reach back and graze its length. It gave her butterflies in her stomach and made her feel all warm inside just to touch the skin. She got brazen and cupped it in her hand and let her fingers close around it lightly. She could feel it getting hot between her legs. It put her in such a state this... thing. She closed her hand tighter and she could feel the blood pumping inside of it. She thought it was beautiful, just like her brother. Her hand was tugging it up and down before she even realized what she was doing. 

"Stacy?" Jackson said as he roused from sleep. "Stacy, you can't!" 

"Oh God!" She began to cry. "I... I'm sorry. I just meant to wake you up. And... I..." She sobbed harder. "You can't tell momma. You can't! Promise me. I'm sorry." 

Jackson wrapped the sheet around his body. He wasn't sure why she would do such a thing. Maybe she'd just been curious, he thought. The tears streaked her cheeks and he looked at her innocent face. He walked over and gave her a little hug. "I won't tell anyone." He said. "I love you, squirt. But, you and I can never be together that way." He felt the aching in his balls as if they disagreed. They felt heavy and full again. 




The Tears of the Stars Pt. 01



She didn't say anything else. It's not that she didn't want to, though. She wanted to say that they could be together that way. They could be together forever and be happy, and that they could run away somewhere, just the two of them. But she held it all in and hid the pain in heart. "Momma called. There's something going on down at the hospital. It's on the news." Jackson walked down ahead of her with the sheet wrapped around his waist. She looked at the strong lines of his back and still felt the funny, warmth between her legs. God is good. She knew that. But God wouldn't approve of her urges and that confused her. 

****** 

Dana pulled into the hospital parking lot with a glow on her face. She was happy; even she had to admit that to herself now. It was almost noon. She had fallen asleep after pleasuring herself and just didn't feel the need to rush any longer. She had patient charts to go through, but nothing imperative. She rarely took time for herself and it was a welcome change. 

She was startled to see the caravan of news trucks parked along the side of the lot and the frenzy of activity happening outside the hospital. There were reporters from four different news stations holding their microphones and reporting events into their respective cameras. Nothing like this had ever happened at St. Peter's. 

Dana shuffled into the entrance of the hospital. A nurse was busy answering phones at one of the stations. "Susan? What on earth is going on?" She asked. "Why are all those reporters outside?" 

"Oh God! Dr. Monroe, you haven't heard?!" She gasped. The phones kept ringing and she'd long since given up on trying to answer them all. 

"Heard what?" 

"It's a miracle! I wouldn't believe myself had I not seen it with my own eyes. It's an honest to God miracle!" 

"What is?" 

"The boy!" She exclaimed. "Josh Callaway! He's been healed. Not just healed, he's been running around this morning laughing. It looks like he's never been an ill a day in his life... well... except for his hair." 

Dana stared at her in disbelief. "Josh Callaway? The leukemia patient?" 

"Yes!" 

"The five year old Josh Callaway? Whose mother has been staying here at night because he only has days left to live?" 

"YES! YES!" She squealed. "They brought him down for all the scans this morning and there's no sign of cancer at all. None! I mean they're waiting for a few more comprehensive tests but that's just to be certain." 

"Oh my God!" Dana said quietly. She raced down the hallway her mind awash trying to remember what had happened last night. It couldn't be, she thought, it just couldn't. 

She found her way to the children's wing of the hospital. The nurses were all gathered around squawking while they watched Josh laughing and running and doing summersaults down the middle of the hallway. His mother watched him, a solitary beacon of hope and thanks for all her prayers that had been answered. 

"Oh Dana, isn't it wonderful!" Dana turned to see Sally Travers standing beside her. "Jesus Christ is our Lord and Savior. He works miracles every day. But to see such a miracle right here in our hospital! Oh praise Him! I never thought I'd see something so glorious." 

"Come with me." She said dragging Sally by the arm. "Mrs. Callaway." She whispered in the mother's ear. The woman lit up at the sight of Dr. Monroe and followed her into the next room. When the door was closed, Dana asked, "What happened?" 

"It's a miracle, Dr. Monroe. I thought about it all night. It was right after that angel left that he perked right up. He said a prayer to the stars just like he told him to. You know I was almost upset by that story... to get him hopeful of being cured... but he was a nice man and I didn't want to say nothing. But, he worked a miracle on my boy. I'd like to thank him. What was his name?" 

"You can't thank him." Dana jumped in. 

"You know Jackson finally woke up last night." Sally noted. "Do you think he was healed too?" 

"Jackson!" Mrs. Callaway said. "Yes, he said his name was Jackson!" 

"Jackson? My Jackson?" Sally asked. "My Jackson did this?" 

"Are you his mother?" Mrs. Callaway asked. 

"Yes." She said confused. 

"No!" Dana said firmly. "Jackson is not a part of this. Please, I'm begging you not to mention his name. Let me talk to him first before you do that. You say whatever you have to say, but leave him out of it. I'm begging you." 

"I... Oh... I guess I understand. I'm just thankful to get my little soldier back." She smiled as she looked at him playing in the hall through the panel window in the door. She never thought she'd see him play like this again. "Whatever he wants." 

"Thank you." Dana said. "It means a lot to him. And to me. I'm so happy your boy is healthy. It is a miracle." She gave the woman a sincere hug. 

"What does Jackson have to do with anything of this?" Sally asked. 

Neither woman answered her. Dana flung open the door, walking briskly with purpose. Sally trailed after her desperately trying to keep up. 

"Dana!" 

Dana turned. "We'll talk later, Sally." She said. "I'm sorry I didn't call to tell you I dropped Jackson off at home last night. He asked me not to disturb you. Can we just talk later?" Now she regretted letting Sally hear any of that. She was panicked and certain that his name would have been mentioned by now. It gave her the foreboding sense that she just made things more complicated. 

Sally watched her turn away again. It wasn't like her. She couldn't understand what her son had to do with any of this. The good Lord bestowed a miracle on their community. What could be more important than that? But she followed along sensing something important. 

****** 

Jackson had a feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. Why hadn't he considered the media attention this would cause? He wondered how long it would take before it showed up on his doorstep, and how he'd respond. He sat back into the cushions on the worn brown sofa, his sister beside him. The coverage had been nonstop all morning and every network called it something different. Miracle at St. Peter's seemed to be the name that got repeated most. 

"Oh! He's going to speak." Stacy clapped on her brother's knee in excitement. "He's so cute! It's amazing isn't it?" 

"Of course. A blessing." Jackson said staring at the screen. His mind was elsewhere, though. There wouldn't be anything said that he didn't already know. He wondered if Dana was there. 

On the television, Josh Callaway walked up to the microphones. He wasn't shy at all. His mother stood by his side. A spokesman for the hospital moved the microphones down for his height, his head barely above the top of the podium as he stood on a crate. 

Reporters yelled out questions. "Josh! Josh! Can you tell us what happened? Did you see anything? Is it a miracle?" 

He looked at his mother. "Go ahead, sweetie. It's okay." She said. 

"I talked to an angel. He was really, really nice." Josh spoke softly. 

"An angel? You saw an angel last night?" Another reporter yelled out his question. 

"I think he was an angel." Josh shrugged. 

"Did he say anything, Josh? What did he tell you?" A third reporter asked. 

"Um. He told me a story about a sick boy who didn't want to be sick any more but the doctors couldn't make him better. And he said that the boy prayed to the stars every night. And that... um... that... one star got so sad that he... he bursted into tears and the tears floated from heaven and made the boy all better. And he said that if I prayed to a star I might get better too." 

There were collective sighs from the crowd as they heard the boy's adorable account of the story. 

"Mrs. Callaway, did you see this too?" 

"I did." She said. "I'll never forget it. I didn't think anything at the time. Whether it was an angel or not, it's still a miracle. But the words... He told a fable and the final words said 'Behold, for I am the tears of the stars sent forth to heal all things.'" She began to tear up. "You'll have to excuse my emotion, but when I think about it now it's just so beautiful." 

The hospital spokesman stepped in to handle additional questions that focused more on the specifics of the case. He was coached to use the proper medical terminology and avoid acknowledging claims of miracles altogether. 

Stacy's big blue eyes were tearing up as she watched the television. "It really is beautiful." She said. "The tears of the stars." 

Jackson smiled. He'd saved this boy. He looked at his sister with her long blonde, wavy curls hanging down about her face. He still puzzled over her actions earlier. It complicated their relationship, and made it harder to look at her the same way. But he liked having her near. He knew that much. 

Fudge barked and his head perked up from the armchair where he settled himself earlier. His ears were at attention and his head cocked to the side. Then he barked again and hopped down running to the back door. Jackson went to the kitchen and opened the sliding door to see what he was yammering about. 

Dana's car was at the end of the driveway. Fudge ran out wagging his tail and waiting to see who it was. Jackson stepped onto the deck, happy to see her. She looked radiant in her lime green skirt and her white blouse as she walked around her car. 

"Hi." Jackson smiled. "You look stunning." 

Dana was all business. "You said, 'he had a lot less than a week.' In the car last night, that's what you told me. Not 'has'. You said 'had'. You knew he would live. You knew that you saved his life." 

Jackson wanted to embrace her, but she kept herself at a distance. "He wasn't going to live through the night." 

"How do you know that?" 

"I don't know! I don't know how I know. I just know." 

"That's not good enough anymore, Jackson." She said full emotion. "What did you do to him?" 

Sally Travers car pulled into the driveway and she hustled out toward Dana and Jackson. She felt as if she'd been left out of the loop on some big mystery. 

"Jackson?" She called. 

"Later, Sally" Dana said soberly, waving her off. "Jackson and I have something to discuss." 

"Stay out of this, mom." He warned. He brought his attention back to Dana. "I fixed him. He was a five year old boy dying of cancer. Wouldn't you? Isn't that what you do? Fix people?" 

"He wasn't fixable, Jackson. What did you do to him? How did you do it?" She demanded. 

"I don't know!" He shouted flustered. 

"Not good enough!" She said sternly. "What aren't you telling me?" 

Sally joined her daughter on the deck unsure what was going on between these two. 

"Jackson, did you heal that boy?" Stacy asked. 

"Go inside you two?" He shouted back at them. He paced back and forth while Dana stood her ground. "What we talked about last night... do you remember?" 

"Yes." She said. "Your hypothetical about what would happen if you could live forever and all that." 

"And what would happen if you left all the knowledge behind..." He said. 

"Don't waste my time, Jackson." She warned. "I'm not doing hypotheticals right now. I want answers." 

"Come with me." He said marching off toward the barn. She stalked after him. He waited until she was inside and then closed the door giving them privacy. "Truth." He said seriously. "I found something in the woods. Something that I'm told was left for me by someone a long time ago. It was hidden deep underground. I... I know how that sounds. I would take you there. I would show it to you so you could see that I'm not making this up. Go in my climbing pack by the tool bench." He pointed. "Outer zipped pocket." 

Dana walked to the bag and unzipped the pocket. She reached in and removed the only item inside, a medallion. "This?" She asked looking it over. "This is supposed to prove something to me?" 

"I hope it will." Jackson said. "I know it sounds stupid, but I like you and it would break my heart if you think I would ever do something to make a fool out of you or to hurt you. I found that in this place underground along with some books that weren't... oh shit... just hear me out... weren't from this earth. What would you do if you were given all that knowledge? That's what I asked you. Someone gave it to me. And I don't know why. May I have that?" He reached for the medallion and as he clutched it in his hands the metal began to illuminate and glow its vibrant shade of green. 

Dana took a step back looking on in disbelief. "What's happening?" 

Jackson looked at her, his eyes glowing brighter than ever. She could see it now, the flecks of green in his gaze. "The person who buried the books isn't the person that wrote them. It gets more complicated. But he buried them there for me and left me a message coded on this medallion. The medallion is the key that opens them. To make it more confusing the information in the books was coded into me... genetically... but it doesn't come with instructions. I don't know how to use it. It came naturally when I saw Josh. I don't know what I did. Part of you should want to believe... my medical tests never made sense to you, right?" He paused judging her reaction. "So if you don't think I'm a total lunatic yet, I'm hoping that if you touch this with me, it will show you the message and you'll understand. What do you say? Leap of faith before you have me committed?" 

"That's crazy, Jackson." She replied. Part of her dumbfounded that this was the answer he was offering. "Do you even hear yourself? What you're saying is crazy!" 

"Maybe." He said quietly. "Leap of faith? For me? For the guy who loves your logic and reason and your big heart? 

She reached out slowly and let her fingers touch the glowing metal. The shock surged through her until she was lost in a series of visions. Her eyes fluttered as she saw images of the cave and the submersion. She saw images of her and Jackson, images of their future, images of their child, and lastly, she saw images of him sitting at her bedside before she passed away. She was wrinkled with age but Jackson was still a twenty-five year old boy. Dana pulled her hand away with a sudden gasp as she collapsed to the ground crying. It took only a few minutes to see it all, but she felt like she had been in those visions for far longer. 

"What was it? What did you see?" Jackson asked. "I couldn't see it." 

"You'll fall in love with me." She said through her tears. She may have had feelings for him, but she just felt a lifetime of love he had for her. She lived it with him, as if it was a lifetime on fast forward, but all those emotions and feelings were real and raw. "Oh, Jackson, I'm so sorry. I... I just can't..." She ran toward her car. 

"Where are you going?" He called after her, distraught. "I thought it would help you understand. I can try and explain it better. Please don't leave. Dana..." 

He followed her to her car. Dana turned. It was almost too painful to look at him. "You don't need to explain it better. I understand." She brushed his cheek and looked at him with such caring eyes. She leaned in and kissed him passionately. "I need some time, Jackson. Please allow me some time. Okay?" 

"Okay." He said, but he wasn't sure it was okay at all. He needed her. Instead he watched her drive away. 

****** 

Sally Travers watched in disbelief as Dana kissed her son lewdly in the driveway. She was peering out of the kitchen window. She'd known Dana since she was an intern in medical school and watched her rise to a resident doctor faster than any woman at the hospital. But this changed everything. Dana wasn't a good Christian girl, not when she went around doing things like that, and it was worse that it happened with her own son. 

Jackson looked distant as he opened the sliding door. His sister was sitting at the kitchen table waiting expectantly for some type of answer about Josh Callaway. His mother stared at him with judgmental eyes. She was wearing her scrubs with her shoulder length blonde hair and her green eyes narrowed. She was a slight thing, rather short but heavy chested. Despite her size, she had an imposing way about her. 

"I saw what she did." His mother said flatly. "You better believe that I'll be discussing it with the administration at the hospital. We are a Catholic run organization, Jackson. I can't believe you let her stick her tongue down your throat like that. It was shameful. Is that why she drove you home last night? Did she try to work her wicked ways on you then too? I can't see us keeping someone like that on staff." 

Jackson had so much going through his head and this was the last thing he needed. Everything in his life was changing and he had no control over it. He was quickly losing his patience for added complications. "Because she kissed me?" He asked incredulously. 

"If you can call that a kiss!" She said. "Sticking her tongue down your throat with your mother and sister in the house?! Lord knows that woman could learn some modesty at the very least." 

Stacy kept her eyes down at the table. Jackson felt bad for her. "I'm twenty-five years old, mom. I'll kiss whoever the hell I please. And from this point on, you'll stay out of my love life completely. I did the math years ago. You and dad would be married twenty-four years this year. What does that mean? He fucked you out of wedlock at twenty. And you're judging a kiss? If you so much as say a bad word about Dana at the hospital, I will raise holy hell and never speak to you again. Your judgment and your Holier-than-thou bullshit stop now." 

"Jackson Travers, don't you ever speak to me like that. Oh Lord have mercy!" She shrilled. 

"Leave the Lord out of this!" Jackson snapped back. "I'll continue to help out with the house and the bills like I have for the last seven years. I just don't think I can live under the same roof as you anymore. You can't see what a horribly judgmental person you've become. I'm going to stay in the barn until I can make it livable or until I can figure out another situation... or until you apologize for a lifetime of shit. I care about Stacy more than you ever will. I was here every day while you worked. Cooking, cleaning, homework, all of it. And I've never gotten a thank you. Never. Not once." He began to leave and then stopped looking back. He looked from his sister to his mom. "She deserved better than you as a mother, even if I didn't. There's only one person under this roof that should feel ashamed." 

Sally's look was one of pure shock. "I... I did my best, Jackson... I did what the Lord would have..." But her words just trailed off, and her eyes watered and she stood there. 

****** 

Stacy ran to her room and curled up on her bed. She couldn't believe it. Her whole crappy existence had shattered so quickly. The last month was the worst of her whole life. Her brother was sick and she was worried that he'd never come back to her. But now she found out that he was touched by God himself and healed a sick child. Then he stood up to momma. He was the most amazing person she'd ever known. 

Thinking about it made all the tingling start between her legs again. She could be his woman, she thought. She'd take care of him and make him a beautiful home. Her eyes closed remembering his penis. She tried to think of it as a cock. That's the word his old girlfriend used and it sounded so nasty. It caused the butterflies in her stomach when she said it quietly to herself. All of the nasty thoughts made it gush down there and it got wet and sticky and hot. Oh god! Her heart fluttered. Why did she like such nasty thoughts? Why did she like the way they made her feel? She'd never been that kind of girl. 

If Jackson could tell momma that enough was enough then she could do something bold too. She stood in front of her full length mirror and pulled off her short-sleeved cardigan. She looked at the plain white bra. It hurt sometimes when she wore it, but momma told her that buying a smaller size kept them pressed in and kept men from staring. It looked silly now the way her breasts tried flow around it. She unsnapped the bra and felt them in her hands. The pink nipples were stiff and sensitive. Then she lowered her full length skirt and cotton panties. Her blonde pubic hair created a nest between her thighs. 




The Tears of the Stars Pt. 01



Stacy sat back on her bed feeling exposed. She spread her legs open and slid her hand down between her legs feeling the hot, wet center of her desire. Momma said it wasn't right to touch yourself in your sacred place. But she didn't care what momma thought anymore. "Cock." She whispered to herself as her finger split the crease of her pussy and touched her clit. It was electric. Oh god, it felt better than she thought. She kept rubbing, her ass squirming on the sheets, as the sensations grew, the thought of Jackson's towering erection burning bright in her mind. It was like nothing she'd ever felt before. It seemed like her pussy gushed the more she touched it. Her whole hand was getting wet and sticky, but she was too carried away to even care. All those nasty thoughts and nasty words were floating around in her head, and she was swimming in them. 

The look on Stacy's face was sheer terror when the bedroom door opened. Her mother intended on telling her how well behaved she'd been during her brother's unruly outburst. But Sally looked horrified by the lewd act taking place when she saw her daughter spread eagle. 

"Momma! It's... It's not what it looks like..." Stacy cried out immediately. 

Sally Travers barely even heard her daughter speak. She walked forward until she was standing over her and slapped her hard across the face. "Whore!" She screamed at her. She brought her hand back again and slapped her across the same cheek, searing it with a stinging pain. But Sally was the one that started to cry and slumped to the ground. "Whore!" She whined. This time it sounded sad rather than judgmental. 

Stacy got to her feet rubbing her cheek, which was turning a shade of red already. Momma looked up at her as she stood there naked. Stacy's eyes didn't betray fear of judgment or fear of anything else. Stacy found courage in her brother's words earlier. "I am not a whore." She seethed. "And you will never hit me again." The words came out slow and deliberate and filled with finality. 

****** 

Jackson spent a few hours trying to forget about everything. He cleaned up his work area and got his half-finished furniture prepped to be stained. Then he went upstairs and looked at the hayloft and thought about converting it to a full time apartment. It would take a lot of work if he expected to stay out here in the winter. His mind wandered back to Dana and the sadness he felt when she left. He sat down in the hayloft door looking out on the field and fondled the medallion watching it glow and feeling the flecks in his eyes burning just as bright. 

"Jackson?" Stacy's voice came up from below. "Can I come up?" 

He set the medallion aside. "Yeah, squirt. Come on up." 

Stacy had pulled on a light yellow, cotton sundress. She was barefoot as she climbed the stairs and found him staring out in the distance. He looked sad to her and that made her feel sad too. 

"Momma's on the phone with deacon at the church." She said. "She's trying to say that you have the healing power of the Lord." Stacy wondered if it was true but she could tell it wasn't the time to press. "You know the things you said to her today, those were a long time coming. It scared me to hear it out loud. But I'm glad you said it." 

"I know, squirt." He said still staring off in the distance. 

"Jackson." She said quietly, putting her hand on his forearm to get his attention. He turned to look at her. "Please don't call me squirt anymore, okay?" 

Jackson saw the redness on the side of her face and touched it lightly. "What happened?" 

"It's nothing. I think she was just mad at you. She wanted to shame me for being a woman." Stacy said. "I don't want to be afraid to be a woman anymore. You're right, you know. Maybe it's time to leave home." She took a seat next to him. "Do you think it would be okay if I stayed out here tonight?" 

"Yeah, squ..." He caught himself. "Sure, sis." 

"Jackson?" 

"Yeah?" 

"How are you?" She asked. "I mean, how are you, really?" 

"I don't know." 

"You know I won't ask you any questions. I won't ask if you healed that boy. I won't ask about what happened in the woods. I'm not gonna pry, Jackson." She said softly. "But I want you to remember that I'm not going anywhere. I don't need momma in my life, but I don't know how to live without you." 

Jackson smiled. "Me either, Stace." He said. "It's been a weird month for me. I know I can talk to you about it. I'm just not ready. And that doctor today..." 

"You liked her." Stacy said. 

"I did." He replied. "It was crazy. I knew her for a blink, but... well it was hard to explain. Anyway, I guess it isn't important now. I just feel lonely." 

"Well you got me." 

"I know." 

The sun was finally starting to set and twilight turned the fields a golden color. It was still hot and the humidity made the air feel thick. The news said this summer was breaking all the heat records. Winter would come though. It always came and the fields would be a blanket of white. Jackson leaned back on the floor of the barn with his feet dangling out the hayloft door. His shirt was off. Stacy studied his chest and abs and the way the muscles cut across his body. She liked the little patch of hair below his belly button. There wasn't much but it was blonde and curly. She liked the musk of his natural body odor. There really wasn't anything she disliked about him. 

"Jackson, there's something we need to talk about." Stacy finally struggled to say. 

He leaned up on his elbows. "What's that?" 

"Well..." She stood up and paced back and forth trying to figure out the best way to word it. He could see how hard this was for her. "The thing is..." 

Jackson chuckled. He felt better when she was around. Things always felt natural with her, easy. He got up and sat on the mattress. "It's okay, Stace. Spit it out." 

"It's about this morning... when you woke up." 

He realized now what she was referring to. "Look, just forget it. I forgave you for that. Just pretend like that didn't happen. Okay?" 

"Like it didn't happen?" She repeated. 

"Yeah." 

"Like it didn't happen?" She repeated again calmly, sadly. "Why would I ever want to pretend like that didn't happen? I can't stop thinking about it. I don't want to be forgiven for something that I'm not sorry about?" 

"Stacy?!" He sputtered, shocked. 

"You're the only man I've ever loved, Jackson. You wouldn't even believe what's been happening in my...my... pussy... today." She whispered the word pussy as she pointed between her legs, clearly uncomfortable saying it out loud. She fidgeted as she spoke only looking up occasionally to make nervous eye contact. "It's been tingly and hot and I've had nervous butterflies in my stomach. I know I'm your sister. You said it can never happen. Momma would never forgive me. God wouldn't either, I guess. I know it should never happen. So why do I want it so bad? Why would God give me a perfect man and a best friend and then say I can't I have him. Not the way I need him." She stopped, standing in front of him. 

"I..." He was still speechless. 

"Momma slapped me cause she caught me touching myself." She admitted. "But all I can think about is you... and... your..." She closed her eyes and said the word. "... your cock. I want to touch it... to feel it... to make love to it... I'm a woman, Jackson. Look at me." She pulled the sundress over her head and threw it on the ground standing naked in front of him. "What is wrong with me?" 

Jackson averted his eyes. "Stacy, what are you doing? I don't know what you want me to say?" 

It was a rejection. She knew what he was saying, and his questions made her sad. But she'd gone too far at this point. She felt stupid and small and tiny. Her big blue eyes watered, brimming with tears while she tried to hold it together. "Look at me, Jackson. Do this one thing for me. Just look at me." He lifted his head and looked in her eyes trying not to look anywhere else. "No." She said softly. "Look at me. Am I ugly? Is my body that unattractive?" 

He always thought she had a beautiful face, soft and innocent with her blonde, wavy curls. His eyes came down slowly seeing her thin neck and the gentle slope of her shoulders. Her breasts were full and pert and she had big pink areolas capped with stubby, thick nipples. She was tall and thin with a flat, firm stomach and wide hips. Her legs were shapely and well-toned. They walked nearly everywhere around town and she helped Jackson move furniture pieces into his truck. He knew she strong. She had the body of a young woman, not like Dana who had a woman's body through and through. It was hard for him to look at her like this. The longer he looked the more he knew that she was beautiful and sexy in a way that sisters shouldn't be. He'd never be able to look at her the same way after this, but maybe that's what she wanted all along. 

"What's wrong?" She asked. 

"Nothing is wrong." He finally said. "You're not ugly, Stace. Not even a little. You're so beautiful." He watched her eyes light up as she heard his words. "Yes, it's wrong to want what you want. I don't think anything is wrong with you, though. I just don't know what to do. We can't be together. How would it ever work?" 

The light went out of her eyes. "I... I don't know what I was thinking." She said shyly. A few tears rolled down her cheek. "I feel broken sometimes, Jackson. Being with you is the only time I feel whole. I thought I lost you in the woods when you didn't come home. It was horrible. And... I... I realized what you mean to me... I need you more than a sister needs her brother." 

Jackson's whole world was officially upside down. His heart broke for his sister. He'd been her protector for her whole life and she wanted him to take a different role now, an intimate role. What was he supposed to do? He pushed himself back onto the bed and laid down patting the spot next to him, like he usually did when she was sad. Stacy climbed onto the bed nervously and pressed herself into him. He tucked her blonde curls behind her ear. He tried to pretend like it was just the same, but she was naked and he could feel her breasts pressed into him. Her hands weren't squeezing him like they used to, instead she was caressing him. No matter how hard he fought it, he felt the blood rushing down between his legs and the stiffening in his shorts. He wondered if this was the fate of this relationship now, whether he wished it or not. Those urges were back and they took over, just like they had with Dana. He wished it wasn't happening, but he heard the soft gasp from his sister as the bulge began to rise. 

"Jackson?" She said as softly as a mouse. 

He knew what she was saying. Is this going to make me a bad person? He wondered. His hand reached down to the button on his shorts. It popped open and he drew the zipper down. "Shhh." He whispered. "Just finish what you were doing when mom caught you, okay? Nothing more." He slid the shorts off until he was naked beside her. His erection towered in front of her. 

Stacy couldn't look away. Her hand slid back to the moist center between her legs, her fingers finding the sensitive spot she'd discovered earlier. Her brother did love her, she thought. His warm skin melted into hers and she squeaked and moaned the most beautiful sounds. Part of her wasn't even sure what was happening, she had gotten lost in it like a fog, and her body seemed to be full of electricity, like bottled lightning, with the most amazing feelings filling her up inside. Her fingers pressed and rubbed with fury as her body jolted and shivered against his until it overwhelmed her and she was awash in a powerful moment. She cried softly, her sticky fingers reaching out to hold him. 

Jackson could smell her arousal thick in the air. He turned to his side and wrapped his arms around her. She was still breathing heavily. She scooted back feeling his cock, harder than ever, pressed against the back of her thighs. She opened her legs letting his hard length slip between her thighs until it rested against the lips of her pussy. Jackson kept his hands around her, remaining still. Somehow he felt that if he didn't move then this wasn't his fault, but his desire was betraying him, the same as hers. She began to wriggle back and forth and he could feel the flood of wetness coating him as she moved. Her hand moved down to the head of his cock rubbing it and keeping him pressed tight against her sex. Her soft coos became low moans of pleasure. She pushed herself closer to a climax as she rubbed against him. Jackson realized that his hands had begun to squeeze her breasts, twisting her stubby pink nipples, which drove her closer and closer to that electric feeling again. She kept grinding, her free hand squeezed his into her breast even harder and then it crashed through her again, powerful and explosive. 

"Oh, Jackson!" She whispered so quietly he could barely hear her. "I've never felt anything like it! I love you." She reached up and took his hand dragging it along her belly until she pressed it against her pussy. It was soaking wet. "You can have me." She said. "I've always been yours." 

Jackson was swimming in lust and love. He loved her. He had always loved her. Was she right? He wondered. Was this not just an extension of that love? An expression of it? His life had become so confusing and the lines between right and wrong were blurred. His mom was disowned. Dana had left. Stacy was a constant, and her love unconditional. He turned her around to face him. Stacy leaned in and kissed him, hard and deep yet somehow gentle. 

He closed his eyes. "We can never truly be together." He said quietly as if convincing himself. 

"We'll always be together." She replied lovingly. "Even if you have other women come into your life. I'll never take a man." 

"You have to." He said. "You'll have to get married at some point." 

"I'll only have one love, Jackson. I'll take whatever part of you that you let me have." 

He could feel the flecks in his eyes glow green. He still couldn't understand what trigged them. He sat back on his knees and looked down at her, beautiful and pure. He bent down and kissed her belly moving up to the swells of her breasts. He sucked and nibbled on her nipples. Stacy mewled softly feeling his tongue on her skin. He kissed her clavicle and then her neck, her chin, and her lips. He looked at her eyes, so trusting and innocent. 

His cock was pressed into her moist slit. It rubbed through her folds finding the tight entrance to her pussy. He pressed it in gently feeling the resistance. Stacy smiled up at him. Her hands grabbed the sheets on the bed bunching them in her fists, bracing herself for what was coming. She nodded slightly. She wanted this so badly. He pushed forward opening her up slowly pushing in and out. It hurt as she stretched around his girth. Then she felt him push deeper. Jackson felt it too. Stacy let go of the sheets and put her hands on the back of his neck gripping him hard, looking at him. Her eyes were scared, but determined. Jackson pulled back and then pushed forward harder, feeling her virginity tear open for him. 

"Oh, ow! Oh shit!" She cried out softly biting her lip. Stacy screwed her eyes shut, she almost never cussed. Her fingers were digging into his neck. 

"Are you okay?" 

"Yeah." She smiled up at him. "It hurts. Just go slow." She replied shyly. He had stopped, waiting. "Okay, push it in further." The sensation of being stretched was foreign. "Wait." She said biting her lip again. "Leave it there. It's big. Give me a sec." It still hurt but she adjusted and the smile on her face masked it well. "Okay. Slowly." 

Jackson began to push himself in and out without going much deeper. He was barely halfway inside her. He took care to be gentle and slow and did his best to read her expressions. It felt emotional to pay such close attention to her. Her pussy stretched slowly and his intrusion came easier. Her expression softened slowly. He enjoyed feeling the squish as she moistened and soon he could hear her soft moans. 

"Is it all the way in?" She asked breathlessly. 

"Half way." Jackson said. 

"Oh gosh! I don't think I can get it all in." 

"Don't worry about that. Your pussy feels amazing." 

Just hearing those words drove her wild. He loved her pussy, she thought. She loved hearing him say the word. It sent her into a tizzy. She closed her eyes as he drove himself in and out of her most sacred place. She felt another flood of wetness between her legs. Ever since she'd seen him this morning she'd been so soggy down there. She wasn't used to her body reacting this way. 

"Push it deeper, Jackson." She cooed pulling his head down close to hers. She kissed his cheek and his earlobe. The pleasure was building up inside her. She needed him inside her. She didn't care about anything else in the world right now. She didn't care about being what she was supposed to be, or what momma wanted her to be. She wanted to be his. "Do you really think it's an amazing pussy? Push it deeper." She cried softly in his ear. "I love your cock." Oh god, the words were as potent as the acts themselves, she thought. Her breathing was heavy and fast. She felt him deeper still. It hurt, but she didn't care how much as long as it felt good for him, besides the other sensations were drowning the pain in pleasure. 

Jackson saw the beautiful, innocent face staring back at him, but the feel of her body and the sound of her voice in his ears had him overcome with need. He felt the soft, silken, wet walls of her pussy with their deceptively tight grip as he pumped himself in and out of her. She kept moaning in his ear and it made him work that much harder. He loved the sound of her as much as the feel. And that new need was driving his lust. 

Stacy had wrapped her arms around his head completely holding onto it and keeping it in the crook of her neck. "OhGod, OhGod!" She cried. "OhGodOhGodOhGod!" Her breath was more ragged. "Ohhhh... it's so deep. It's so, so deep." She inhaled heavily a few times trying to control her volume. "Your cock is so deep in me, Jackson." She tried to whisper it. The orgasm surged from deep within her. "Ohno! OhGod! OhGod! Oh! Ohhhhhh! Erghh." Her toes curled and her body tensed and shook. 

Jackson could barely move his cock inside her pussy as it clenched. He pushed himself deeper when he felt himself losing control. "Stacy!" He called out as he lifted his head. Her eyes went wide as she felt his seed pour into her. The hot liquid sprayed into the back of her pussy giving her another intense emotion. He rolled to his side laying next to her. She kissed him again deeply. 

"Jackson, I don't even know what to say. I've never felt things like that before." She smiled so wide, her blue eyes wide open. "I'm on such a high right now." 

He looked at her knowing that it would never be the same now. It never could be, nor would he ever want it to be. "It was really intense. The most intense sex I've ever had." 

"That's cause you love me, silly." She said as if it were obvious. His cock was softening and she saw the stains of blood. "Wait here." She kissed him on his lips. "I'll get something to clean you off." 

Stacy ran downstairs and filled a bucket with water from the set tub. She grabbed some clean hand towels a bar of soap. On her way back, she could feel the trickle of his cum dripping from inside of her. She couldn't remember a time when she'd been this happy. Jackson stood near the hayloft door while Stacy washed his body with a soapy cloth. There wasn't a shower out here, and she was careful to clean every inch of him. Her heart wanted to sing a song all its own. 

****** 

Dr. Dana Monroe smoothed her black silk skirt as she opened the door to her office. She took a moment to button the top button on her blouse to show a bit more modesty given the situation. Her hair was wrapped up in a tight bun that was held together with a silver pin topped by a jeweled butterfly. Her heels clacked on the hard floor as she walked. 




The Tears of the Stars Pt. 02



Author's note: Thanks to everyone for the great comments on part 1. This can't be read as a stand-alone story, so be sure to go back and read part 1 before beginning part 2. The story progression does slow down slightly in this chapter, but it will set everything up for an interesting next installment. 

 Thanks again to Winter Lotus for her invaluable help with editing and discussing the strange thoughts in my head. 

Please comment and vote. Nothing helps me improve as a writer more than getting feedback from readers. I respect all opinions and no comments are ever deleted, even the scathing ones. Thanks again. 

******

It all began to change in September. The weather began to change too. It wasn't cold yet but the temperature was dipping slowly breaking the heat wave. Jackson finished the upstairs of the barn in record time. He had laid a thick slatted hardwood floor that was polished and sealed. The walls were insulated and covered with sheet rock and now they had a fresh coat of paint on them. He left the thick exposed wood beams across the ceiling and insulated in between them. 

The loft now covered the entirety of the second floor. It looked rustic but beautiful.  All the furniture was his own creation. The bedroom had its own pot belly stove for heating, and was separated from the rest of the hayloft by a wall with a large, open entryway where the stairs came up. It still needed more work, but the electric and plumbing were installed. Jackson hadn't slept in over two weeks.  

Dana had agreed to take Stacy to her house down closer to Albany. She'd fallen asleep and they both knew it would be a long time before she woke. He had wanted her to be somewhere safe away from anyone that might ask questions. Jackson needed the time alone anyway. His thoughts moved almost too quickly and his abilities were strengthening. 

It wasn't just knowledge that he had. He knew all kinds of science and technology and history. But he also had abilities that the Ancients harnessed from different races across worlds. He knew occult languages and spells like the whispering words. It made him wonder how they learned to package the information. Most of it couldn't really be taught, he thought. Even he didn't fully understand it yet. New changes and abilities appeared constantly. It stemmed from him now, bound in every piece of him, and he learned to harness it and apply it with every passing day.

Jackson stood in the bedroom of the loft. He was stronger still as he looked at himself in the standing mirror. His muscles were thicker after the second submersion. It had been weeks since he slept with Dana. His balls hung huge and heavy. He pulled on his boxer briefs trapping the fat girth of his cock along his inner thigh. Even it had grown again, and with it his carnal urges. Then he pulled on his jeans and faded t-shirt.

Fudge started barking outside and he sighed heavily. It couldn't be helped, he reminded himself. His mother had been quite excited about the whole thing. She saw it as an honor. But it didn't scare him any longer. Not like before when Josh Callaway was on television and the reporters were covering the story nonstop.  

Jackson walked downstairs through his workshop and stepped outside. A black Lincoln town car parked at the end of the driveway. A well-dressed man in a fitted suit stepped out of the driver door and walked around to open the back door. Archbishop Timothy Dormer emerged in his full vestments. He wore a long red cassock that came down to his ankles covered by a shorter white linen rochet that stopped at the knee. His shoulders were covered by a red satin mozzetta, the cape hung around his neck and over his chest and shoulders. And finally a violet zucchetto skull cap that covered the top of his head. Another priest followed closely behind him in a traditional black cassock with thirty-three buttons symbolizing Jesus' age at the time of the crucifixion.

"Ah, Jackson Travers, I presume." Archbishop Dormer said.  "Your mother told me I'd find you in the barn. I spoke with her earlier."

Jackson extended his hand. "Your Eminence." He stated using the proper greeting.

"Just Timothy today." He replied. "I want this to be a casual conversation. This is Father Ignatio. He's just here to observe." Jackson chuckled at the comment. "Is something amusing?"

"You brought a devil's advocate." He replied. "That doesn't seem casual. It seems like the Church is certain of a miracle." The Vatican always sent a dissenting voice when they looked to confirm a miracle. It was the job of that priest to discount the miracle at all costs, to play the role of the Devil's Advocate.

Archbishop Dormer gave an easy smile. "A formality. He was already in the country. A stigmata in Texas that turned out to be a hoax." He reached into a pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. "Do you mind? It's a nasty habit. Show me the barn. I hear you're a carpenter. Jesus was a carpenter. It's a noble profession."

Jackson walked him into the barn with Father Ignatio trailing behind them. "Why are you interested in me?"

"Your mother thinks you know something of the Callaway case." He said running his hands down the top of a sanded pine secretary. "Beautiful work. It's so rare to see true craftsmanship. Anyway, I spoke with the boy's mother who didn't say much about you at all. But Josh is quite taken with you. I love charity myself. But I find with children that once you leave, you're quickly forgotten. You met the boy once and he remembers you well."

"And if I did have something to do with it? What then?"

Archbishop Dormer stopped and looked him over. "Well I'd be interested to know more about that."

Jackson smiled. "I grew up going to church. I was raised Catholic with a strict mother. I can tell you that God hasn't spoken to me, nor any saints or disciples or angels. I'm not touched by the Divine Hand. And I'm not the second coming of Christ."

Father Ignatio pulled the Archbishop aside and began speaking to him in Italian. 

"Would you prefer to have to have this conversation in Italian?" Jackson asked, speaking the language perfectly. They turned to look at him with surprise. "Perhaps you would like to use the older languages. Aramaic? Hebrew?"

"Very few people speak Aramaic." Archbishop Dormer stated with interest.

"I speak many languages." Jackson replied candidly. "I've recently discovered that I have a knack for learning."

The Archbishop absorbed the comment and then walked around an oak dresser with exceptional detail and inlay work. "I think I might like to commission a few pieces of furniture. Well-made pieces last a lifetime unlike the manufactured junk they sell these days. Do you have any coffee? I hope it's not rude to ask before being offered."

"Upstairs." Jackson nodded toward the staircase. "I'd be happy to build anything you might like. I enjoy woodworking. I just wish I could make more money with it."

"Money." He said disdainfully. "It seems the whole world revolves around money these days."

"Even the Church." 

Archbishop Dormer smiled at his boldness. "Yes. Even the church. A sin in itself." They stepped upstairs and walked toward a small table near the kitchenette. "You did all this work yourself?"

"Well, I'm just completing it. I can't expect to live with my mother forever. But I have a responsibility to her. She needs my help with the bills and the house. So, it seemed like a natural solution. Together but separate. And I'm still a good Catholic son."

"How did you heal Josh Callaway?" The Archbishop asked as if the question had just naturally fit into their conversation.

Jackson wasn't put off by the bluntness of the question. "Why is faith so often blind, Archbishop Dormer?" He asked in return setting out three coffee cups. "You want me to tell you something to help you make sense of it all. Why is it that faith is easy when you follow it blindly? Why is it when there is an overt display of it that the Church has to question it so much?"

"False prophets are a dangerous thing."

"You haven't asked me how I feel about all this attention." 

"How do you feel about it?"

"I want to be left alone. Why does the Church need to meddle in my life at all? If I did heal Josh Callaway, does it look like I'm building a following to subvert the Church?" He gestured to his meager surroundings.

"No. But I have my orders from on high. They like to be thorough in these matters."

"Will you tell them to leave me alone?"

"I haven't made up my mind yet on what I believe to be true." 

The water boiled in the kettle on the stove. Jackson poured it into a French press letting it sit for a minute before sinking the plunger down slowly. Silence filled the room. Then he turned and filled each cup. 

"Cream or sugar?" He asked.

"Just black. Thank you."

"What proof is there in miracles? I haven't claimed any divine intervention. Dr. Monroe says there is no explanation on his recovery. What do you expect to find?"

"I'm not sure. God will show me the truth." He responded sincerely. "I don't have much time left before I retire from my duties as Archbishop. A little excitement and mystery is welcome. I'm an old man."

"I know." Jackson replied. He saw the glimmer of sadness in the man's eyes. "Yet you still smoke." He looked over at Father Ignatio. "Archbishop Dormer, can we have a moment alone."

The Archbishop nodded to Father Ignatio. "There isn't much left for us to discuss. Wait by the car. I'll be down in a moment." The priest stood and bowed delicately toward them before disappearing down the stairs. "You know I'm ill?" He said finally.

"I can smell it. And I can feel it." Jackson said.

"And you can make it go away, can't you?" He asked pointedly.

"Your Eminence, I can't explain to you what you need to hear." He reached out and took the man's hand in his. "Tell them I don't believe to be touched by God. Tell them I don't want to be worshipped. I am not an angel or a saint. I've believed in the Church my whole life. I'm just not sure this is a part of it."

"There is only one true God, Jackson. All things come from him. The Creator of Heaven and Earth."

Jackson was quiet for a moment. He struggled with the idea of faith since his discovery. "Would you like me to help you?" He finally asked knowing the repercussions it might have. The need burned in him. The Archbishop was a good man, and he felt like he should offer him a second chance.

"After you spent so much time telling me you wanted to be left alone?" The Archbishop asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I'll deny this conversation because I don't want the attention. But... It's worse than they've told you." He said. "It's spread from your lungs already. It's growing quickly and it's more than likely that you're beyond help. They'll realize it soon enough."

"You know this." He said. "I'd ask how, but I can see it in your eyes. These doctors run all the tests with their state of the art machines but you need none of it, do you?"

"Does it matter?"

"I suppose it doesn't. I appreciate the offer, Jackson. I think I'd like to go home and pray on it. It might be my time. God will choose my fate."

Jackson nodded his understanding. This was a true man of God, he thought, loyal to his faith in the face of death. "If you change your mind..."

"You're lost, my son." The Archbishop said as he stood. "Look to God and He'll light the way."

"And what are you going to say about me? You know what it will mean for me. I don't want it."

"I'll need time to pray on that as well."

******

Stacy stretched her arms and legs and yawned out loud. Her eyes opened slowly and she blinked them a few times as she focused. This wasn't her room. It wasn't the hayloft either. She was asleep in a queen size bed with a lavender cover pulled up around her. Whose place was this? She wondered. She sat up and the covers fell away from her breasts and she realized she was naked. 

It must have been the Snow White sleep, she thought to herself. How long had she been dreaming? She hopped from the bed feeling particularly good. There was a note on the bedside table next to a cell phone. She opened the letter and read through it carefully.

"Dana's house." She said aloud, looking around curiously. The note said to call Dana and Jackson as soon as she woke. She looked at the date on her phone. Twenty-two days had passed. 

Stacy found her way from the guest bedroom to the master bedroom. It was immaculate. She never really thought about Dana's profession that much before, but the woman was a doctor and she certainly had money. A beautiful king sized bed sat draped in white linens and a white comforter with pink floral trim. An oak dresser spanned the opposite wall with jewelry boxes and picture frames. A large plasma television was mounted on the wall above the dresser. 

Two white chairs were situated by the windows with a small table in between. The table had a white and pink lamp that matched her comforter. The windows were draped in pink curtains with white venetian blinds that allowed the room to fill with light. She wondered why Dana would ever willingly spend the night in the hayloft when she had all this.

She found her way into the master bathroom and did a double take in front of the mirror. Her figure looked different. Her breasts were larger than they had been. She cupped them feeling their weight. Her skin was blemish free. She twirled around seeing the perfect curve of her ass. The smile crept across her face. She'd look like this forever, taught and smooth and beautiful. Her face still looked soft and innocent, but her blue eyes showed a flash of green. 

She twisted the handles on the seamless glass shower and climbed inside. Pure luxury. The water felt amazing on her skin. She grabbed the razor and shaving cream and shaved her legs smooth. And then she felt the nest of hair between her legs. It seemed so naughty, but she lathered some cream into her soft mound and then slowly began to drag the razor across it. By the time she stepped out of the shower, she felt fresh and clean and smooth, like a new woman. 

The bathroom counter was a pink marble slab covered in an array of makeup and perfumes.  It was a bit of mess, she thought.  Stacy used a touch of deodorant and then blow dried her hair. Her blonde, wavy curls poofed out about her face. She picked up a perfume, Chanel No. 5, and spritzed herself. Then she went to look for something to wear. 

She opened the walk-in closet off the bathroom. "Wow!" She exclaimed with wide eyes. It almost seemed like too much to choose from. How could Dana ever make a decision in the morning? She had racks of blouses and sweaters, pants and suits, skirts and dresses. And shoes. So many shoes. 

Stacy opened the drawers that lined one wall of the closet and stared with awe. Dana had lingerie and panties and fancy bras. She'd never worn anything like these before. Momma always bought her plain cotton underwear and solid, padded bras that covered her and held her chest tight. She pulled out a lacy, black bra and held it up to her. The cup size was still too big to fit. She took out some black nylons and sat down on a small padded ottoman in the center of the room sliding them on, one at a time. They stopped at the thigh and were held up by a small elastic band on the inside of the lacy tops. She found some black heels that fit almost perfect, just a little small, and went to look at herself in the mirror. 

Stacy felt sexy.  She did an exaggerated walk out of the bathroom, dramatically placing one foot in front of the other, like the models she'd seen on television fashion shows.  She tried to make a serious face, sucking her cheeks in and pouting her lips. But she wobbled and almost fell unused to the height of the heels. She threw herself onto Dana's bed and stared up at the ceiling. She should call them, she thought. But she knew when she did that she'd have to go home. 

The bedside table was filled with stacks of medical journals. It all looked boring and clinical. She rifled through the stack hoping for a gossip magazine or something stupid. No such luck. She tugged open the drawer and smiled devilishly.  She picked up the long, slender vibrator. Her cheeks burned red with embarrassment. Stacy had friends at school that talked about their vibrators, but she never joined those conversations. She'd never actually held one before. 

It had been over three weeks. The heat shot down between her thighs immediately. Her eyes burned with flecks of green. She wanted Jackson. She wanted to have him inside her, his huge, thick cock stretching her open and making her feel those amazing things. And that warm splash of him as he filled her most sacred place. The gush of moisture was hard to ignore and her hand drifted down smearing it over her whole pussy and she moaned softly at the much needed attention. 

Stacy looked at the slender, pink device and knew that she shouldn't. But she twisted the end and listened to the hum, and then brought it down slowly to her slit. She nearly jumped when it touched her clit for the first time, her body tensed up and froze and she was lost in the fog of it almost immediately. It was totally different than his fingers or hers or his cock or a tongue. It was powerful and relentless and it drove her into orgasmic bliss. 

******

"Dr. Monroe, the lab is back with the biopsy results on Karen Atkinson. I've attached them to her chart for your review." Nancy was one of the newer nurses at St. Peter's, a homely woman, but she caught on quickly. The nurses' station was a flurry of activity.

"Thank you, Nancy." Dana said as she flipped through a separate patient chart. "Has anyone checked on Peter Abramson in 304?"

"I checked his vitals this morning and switched out his IV drips." Sally said.

Dana looked up. "Sally, I didn't see you there. Thank you. Everything looks okay?"

"Yes. He's doing fine. Moderate pain only but he's refusing pain medication."

"If it gets worse, give him a Percocet 350mg. Tell him it's the doctor's orders." She yawned. "I've been on for twelve hours. I'm going to try and get some sleep at home. My cell phone is on in case of emergency. Good work today, everyone."

"Dr. Monroe, do you have a minute?" Sally asked.

"Of course, Sally."

"Have you talked to Jackson recently? I've barely seen him in the past few weeks. He's been up all hours working out in the barn." She tried to speak softly.

"Ahem, don't you all have work to do?" Dana said sternly. Her relationship with Jackson hadn't remained as secret as she would have liked and the women at the hospital gossiped liked teenage girls. They scurried back to their places. "I haven't." She said turning back to Sally. "He said he needed time to get some work done. He even paid for Stacy to go on that community service trip so he wouldn't be bothered."

"I'm worried that's all."

"I'm sure everything is fine. He only said good things about you the last time we spoke. Be patient."

"Okay." She said. "I don't mean to be so fretful. Go home and get some sleep."

"Good night, Sally."

Dana was pleased with the turn in their relationship. Sally Travers had certainly been making an effort to be respectful of her and Jackson. She felt bad about the crass way she spoke to her on the terrace all those weeks ago. Jackson had said that she didn't have anyone to talk to about parenting and life. He thought she just needed someone to challenge her and open her eyes. It seemed he might have been right. 

It felt good when she finally got into her car. She sank into the soft leather seats and reached down pulling off her heels. She kept a pair of flats under the driver seat that were loose and comfortable and welcome after a long day. Why hadn't she heard from Jackson? She wondered. The drive home was quiet and she was lost in thought. What day was it? Shouldn't Stacy be awake by now? Did it even work the same each time? She checked on the girl every night. And every night she found her sleeping peacefully lost in some forever dream. 




The Tears of the Stars Pt. 02



She turned her car into a suburban neighborhood. The homes were all large and beautiful, set back on two acre lots. Her house was too big for her, but she had bought it for a great price when she thought she would be getting married and starting a family. She pulled into the driveway and parked. Then she walked up the tiered, slate walkway lined with wooden flower boxes overflowing with purple and pink azaleas until she reached her front door. 

Dana poured herself a glass of wine in the large open space kitchen and cut a wedge of cheese nibbling on the end. A bath was what she wanted most. She just wanted to soak and relax and wait for Jackson to call. She missed him and it had been too long since she felt him inside her. She unbuttoned her blouse pulling it from her skirt with her left hand while holding her glass in her right. She turned into her bedroom at the top of the stairs to run the bathwater.

"Stacy?!" She screamed startled. The cheese fell from her hand, but she managed to hold onto the wine. "What are you..."

Stacy was spread eagle in the middle of her bed with the black nylons and heels still on. "Oh God!" She cried but it was too late to stop her climax. "Ohgod! Ohgod!" She was watching Dana look at her. "Oh, No! Oh..." Her face contorted as she screwed her eyes shut. Her legs trembled and shook. And then her eyes opened back up with a shocked expression of absolute embarrassment. 

Dana stared back and then she let out a laugh. "You used my vibrator?"

"Yes." Stacy replied sheepishly. "Sorry."

Dana took a big gulp from her glass and set it on the dresser. "How long have you been awake?"

"A couple of hours."

"How long have you been doing that?"

"A couple of hours."

Dana began to laugh again. Then Stacy laughed too. It was still embarrassing, but it wasn't as bad as when momma caught her and tried to shame her. 

"My god." Dana said looking at her body. "You're going to look like that forever. It's unfair."

"You think I'm pretty?"

"I'd kill for that body. Have you looked at yourself?"

Stacy's eyes burned green at the compliment, the vision of her future still clear in her mind. "I look different now." She said shyly. "My boobs are bigger. And my butt is rounder. And I have more definition in my arms." She said as she held out an arm and twisted it looking at her slight muscles. 

Dana came over and sat down on the bed. "Why did you do it? I've been dying to ask you."

"Would you do it?" She asked.

"I don't know."

"He's going to ask you. He loves you."

"I... I don't think I could." Dana said.

"I know." Stacy replied. "You promise you won't get mad if I tell you why?" Dana nodded. "It's because I'm in love with him. I always have been. Not in a good sister way either." She said quietly. "I couldn't let him be alone forever."

"You kissed him after your vision." Dana noted as she put the pieces together.

"Jackson and I were always close. He was a good brother. After he healed Josh Callaway and you went away... he was really sad..." Stacy pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. "It was right after he was missing for days and then he fell into that sleep and no one knew if he'd be better... I... I realized that my feelings for him were different than I thought. So after you were gone and he was feeling alone... I wanted to comfort him but I couldn't lie about it and I told him. I asked him to take my virginity."

Dana didn't know how to respond. "No you didn't!" She sputtered floored by the admission. But she saw the look on her face. "You did?"

"He turned me down. And he said all the reasons it couldn't happen. 'We can never be together that way' he said. I was terrified. I thought I ruined everything and he'd never talk to me again."

"Oh, Stacy." She said putting a hand on her knee to comfort her. She actually felt bad for her. "He was right. You can't be together that way. So, what happened?"

"I stood there in front of him and asked him why I felt broken inside. I asked why I felt ugly. And I took off my dress and asked him to look at me. I could tell he tried to look away. But I asked him to look at me and tell me if I was ugly. I felt ugly." Stacy's eyes were wet with tears. "And... He looked... He tried to comfort me and tell me I wasn't ugly... he said I was beautiful. I know he was feeling lonely too and it just happened."

"Wait!" Dana said standing up. "When you said he would love you above all others... you meant it. He's in love with you. And you two have been..." She couldn't bring herself to say it. "Oh no! No, no." She paced back and forth trying to breathe. 

"He's in love with us." Stacy said. "You can't be mad at him. Promise me."

"And when you said you'd love me too? You said I tasted sweet." Dana felt very confused. "Are you saying you and I are going to..." She had trouble even looking at her sitting naked on the bed now. "What did you see?"

"He changes everything, Dana. There's a revolution coming. Can you comprehend what he knows? What that means to everything? The world is going to change and it's gonna be rocky."

"How will it change?"

Stacy thought back to the cave. Her thighs squeezed together when she thought about how forcefully he fucked her. But it was his power that she focused on, the medallion reassembling and him lifting that huge stone. It had already started, but it would take time for him to control it. She'd seen his struggle in her vision too.

"Where is he?" She asked suddenly. 

"I haven't seen him in weeks. He wanted to be alone."

"So you haven't spent time with him since we got back?"

"Not really. Just when I came to pick you up."

"He went back, Dana. Don't you understand? He went back to the cave. It's finished now. He's struggling to find his way. But he's... powerful. He needs us. You and me. He loves us both." She said. 

"He took your virginity." She said quietly. The words sounded strange in her ears. Tears escaped her eyes. She cared for him and it hurt her.

Stacy held out her arms and beckoned her over. "He did." She replied delicately as Dana sat down again. "He loves you. You're going to have his baby."

"How do I know that? How do you know that? Why would I do that after he... did that to you? I'm confused. This isn't how I imagined my life... I just came home to take a bath. Everything is always so fucked up."

"I promise it's going to be okay. He's not going to be a normal person, Dana. You know that already. You could never expect this to be normal. But he loves you. That's all that matters." Stacy rubbed her back in small, comforting circles with the palm of her hand. "Wait here." She said scooting off the bed. She walked into the bathroom and ran the bath checking to make sure the water was nice and hot. 

"You're wearing my nylons and my shoes." Dana said looking at the naked girl and her perfect body as she came back out. 

"Sorry. I was being nosey." 

"They look good on you." She sniffled.

"Come on." She said. "Let's get you into that bath. I'll get you another glass of wine, and you can relax. There's time to talk later." Dana's blouse was already hanging open. She reached up and pulled it gently from her shoulders and folded it. "I think you have beautiful clothes." Stacy added sweetly. "Momma never let me where fancy lingerie like this." She unclasped the bra and slid it off Dana's breasts. "I was going to try a bra but your boobs are much bigger than mine."

"I like your boobs." Dana sniffled again looking at Stacy's perfect, round breasts. 

"Up." Stacy said taking her hands and lifting her to her feet. She unzipped the grey pencil skirt and slid it down and then her black lace panties. "There we go." 

"Why are you doing this for me?" Dana asked suddenly. "If you love him then why help me? Why share him?"

"Because he loves you. And I love him." She said. "Momma was always horrible to me. And you've been so nice. And maybe because you're the only other person that understands what's happening." She looked down kicking off the high heel shoes. "And if I had to share the person I love, I couldn't pick a better person."

Dana didn't know what compelled her but she leaned forward and kissed her. She let her lips linger, and when she opened her eyes she saw the glowing green flecks staring back at her. They were hypnotizing and they reminded her of Jackson.  

Dana was so overwhelmed by the girl's story. Everything was going to change, she kept thinking. And this girl was going to love her and share the father of her future child. It was all perfectly insane. Yet some part of her knew it would be true. If she could only get passed the parts she didn't understand, then it would be okay. Dana fell back on the bed and pulled the Stacy with her. Stacy was so sweet, and so lovely. It just happened and she didn't know how to stop, so she kept going, kissing her, hoping to make it all come true. Then it would be okay, she kept thinking. All she had to do was get past this hurdle. 

Stacy felt all that heat rush down there again. It felt moist and wet and needy. The butterflies started in her belly too. She'd never been with a woman and she was nervous and scared. But Dana's lips were soft and they traveled down her body kissing her breasts. It felt different than the way Jackson did it. It was delicate and warm. She felt the hand on her inner thigh. The fingers were soft, not rough like she was used to, and they traveled up until they touched her spot and she thought was in heaven. 

Dana's breasts crushed into her belly, her nipples distended and hard and in need of attention. But her fingers had found the moist hole, and she moved lower until her mouth was just above it, the heady scent of arousal filling her nostrils. Her tongue licked, long and slow, across its smooth, bald surface until it found Stacy's engorged clit. 

"Ohmygod!" Stacy moaned so softly. Her hands went down and disappeared through the brunette tresses of Dana's hair. She moved her hips pushing back into her tongue, squirming for more attention. Her breath was uneven with soft, ragged gasps. Her innocent features betrayed her surprise, her lips curled into a permanent look of amazement. "Uhhuh... uhhuh... uhhuh... ohhh..." 

Jackson had licked her there before, but this felt better now that it was shaved and smooth. The whole thing felt wet and slippery and sensitive. It was more than just that. Dana knew just how to touch her. Her tongue found that sensitive button and licked it just right. More pressure. Less pressure. Up. Down. Left. Right. It was like she searched out every nerve ending and made sure it vibrated her to her very core. Stacy was a mess. She could barely hold still as her body twitched and twisted and moved with every new sensation. 

Dana kept sweeping her long tongue over and around the girl's clit. She'd never licked a woman before, but Stacy's thin pussy lips and pure pink flesh had her entranced. And the taste of her was so fresh; at least it was the only way she could think to describe it. Every time she squirmed, Dana felt like it was an invitation to keep going. The squeaks and soft moans made her own pussy ache for attention.

"Ohmygosh." Stacy's breath caught in her throat. Her voice was so innocent and childish. Her body tensed and she braced herself on the covers watching Dana work. She let out a girlish grunt and her hips bucked upward and she felt a gush as she came. She lay there breathing heavily, staring at the ceiling. "Whoa." She let out a nervous, giddy giggle.

Dana leaned back suddenly aware of the impulsive act she'd just performed on the young girl. "I'm sorry." She said quietly. "I... oh shit... what was I thinking..." She didn't know what to say. Her body trembled with confusion. 

"Don't be! That was... wow." Stacy cooed. "It's okay. We'll be okay. The three of us." She nestled into her, the way she did with Jackson, and let her hands caress Dana's breasts and tug on her nipples. "I've never done that before with a girl... I'd like to do it again... If you want to, I mean..." She was on quite a high. Then she remembered why she had gotten Dana undressed in the first place. "But right now you should take that bath and relax." 

Dana sank into the hot water feeling it soothe her aching muscles. The lights were dimmed and the stress melted away. She couldn't believe what had come over her, but Stacy made it feel okay, like they were in this together. Stacy came back with a full glass of wine and set it on the side of the tub. She rolled down her stockings and then sat on the ledge behind her, dipping her feet in on either side of her. 

"What are you doing?" Dana asked.

"Shhh." She said wringing out a wash cloth and then using it to rub her neck and shoulders. It reminded her of cleaning Jackson in the hayloft after he made her a woman. Dana leaned back into her and closed her eyes sipping her wine. She lifted the glass to Stacy. "Thank you." She giggled. She never drank alcohol. But she had a lot of firsts these past few months. She took a swallow passing it back.

"We have to let Jackson know you're awake." Dana said quietly taking another sip.

"I know." She said. "I was just enjoying the time alone with you... It's... it's nice. And when we call him, I'll have to share you again."

Dana handed the wine glass back to Stacy. "That's so sweet." She said, blushing just a little. She actually felt smitten by the comment as if Stacy admitted to having a crush on her. "Wait." She grabbed her iPhone, which she always kept nearby for work. "Let's make a memory." She held the phone up and took a picture of them.

Stacy looked at it. Dana's breasts floated just above the water and her head was leaning back into Stacy's cleavage. She had a lovely smile. Stacy looked radiant as she held the glass of wine in one hand and the doctor in her other. They looked happy, like lovers.

"It's perfect." Stacy said. Dana opened a text message to Jackson. "Are you going to tell him now?" But Dana didn't type anything. She attached the photo and clicked send. Stacy gasped. "You're horrible!" But she didn't mean it and she started to laugh picturing his face. Dana laughed too feeling better again.

******

Light pooled out from around the barn door. It was getting late already, but Jackson still couldn't sleep. The floor had been swept of saw dust and cleaned. The piles of wood neatly restacked and arranged by size and type. His new furniture pieces were set up on raised four by fours in the center of the barn. It was easier for him to get to the edges and bevel the designs into them this way. 

Jackson's mind was awash in thought. He'd set out an entirely new venture in a corner of the barn. It was a drafting table and a desk. His hands moved constantly and he'd started sketching out drawings. For the first time, he finally felt like he knew what he should be doing. What he must do. The designs in front of him were dumbfounding. He could accomplish what no one else could.

The phone buzzed on the desk next to him. It must be Stacy, he thought. It was time. He could sense it somehow. He grabbed the device and entered his passcode, and his eyes went wide at the picture on the screen. Jackson couldn't be sure how long he stared at it before he remembered to breathe. Then the reality of it struck him and he let out a laugh. His thumb stroked over the screen as if he could touch them. Dana knew about him and Stacy now. She must, he thought. And somehow his sister made it all okay. He looked back at the designs in front of him. It was happening. It would all change. And they would be at his side. 

A rush of energy filled him. He did a standing jump almost ten feet up and grabbed a wood support beam and began doing pull ups. All the work he'd been doing had distracted him from thinking about the girls, but now he felt the aching in his balls and the heavy weight of his sack hanging between his legs. It was worse than ever. Soon, he thought. Then he dropped down landing on both feet. 

Jackson heard the mutt whining outside the door and slid it open. "Hey Fudge, whatcha doing out here?" He scratched the pooch just above his tail while he wiggled through his legs and then wagged his whole rear end, walking around him in circles too excited to stand still. He looked up and saw his mother sitting on the deck and walked out to join her. "What are you doing up?" He asked noting the glass of wine in her hand. "And why are you drinking? You never drink?"

"Not never." She said. "I was fun once. I used to drink when your dad was alive." She had the old radio playing low. It was older than he was. "Do you remember when we used to sit out here and listen to the golden oldies station? It used to be the only station that would come in. We'd drink wine and talk and watch you catch fireflies. That was before I was even pregnant with Stacy. I miss him. I miss of all of you."

"I haven't gone anywhere." He said taking a seat in the chair next to her and putting a hand on her arm. "I'm right here."

"I screwed it all up, Jackson. Lord knows I did what I thought was best... but... I never trusted in Him to guide you both in His own way." She took a long sip from her glass. "I hit Stacy. I don't want to say why... but the way she looked at me afterward... she hasn't spoken to me since and I don't blame her."

"We both needed some time." Jackson said. "And it's not your fault. Things have changed. And there gonna keep changing. We need to talk about it."

"You're in love with Dana and you're going to move out." She guessed. "It's okay. I should be happy. She's a doctor. A good one. And very beautiful."

Jackson stood up and got himself a glass. "It's not about Dana." He said sitting back down and filling his glass. "I spoke to the Archbishop last week."

"I know." She said.

"I told him that I didn't want to be bothered about it anymore. I want them to leave me alone."

"I know." She said again. 

"He's sick, you know. He has lung cancer." His mother looked over at him. She didn't know that. "I offered to heal him."

"You did?" She asked confused. "But..."

"He knew what I meant. I won't admit it to the Church.  I don't want the attention.... But he was a good man and if I could help him... You raised me right. You raised me to help those in need."

Sally's eyes were wide with wonder, and she couldn't remember him saying anything about her being a good mother before. "Did He speak to?" She asked. "Was it an angel? Or God? Or..."

"No." He replied. "It wasn't anything like that. What I want to tell you is hard to understand, but I want you to hear it. I want you to understand it. And then you can never tell a soul. Never."

"Yes. Sure." She leaned forward in her chair intrigued. 

"I believe in the one true God." Jackson said. Sally smiled at the words. He said them more for her than anything else. "I believe that He is the force that created the Universe and all things in it. But I was given a gift that wasn't from him. It was from a very old race of people from another world."

"Jackson..." She said in a disapproving tone, not liking where the explanation was going. 

"Shush." He said. "Listen." He held up his wine glass looking at the liquid inside. He stuck his finger in the brim of the glass and moved it around in a circle. The liquid began to swirl creating a small whirlpool until he slowly lifted his finger up and the wine followed in a thin, swirling tornado out of the glass, suspended in midair. He turned his head as he watched it and then he lowered his finger dropping it back into the glass and it pooled out as if nothing had happened. He took a sip. "They collected knowledge for a billion years, studying different places and cultures and sciences. When their time ended, they left all that information to one person to protect it and use it. To do good with it."




The Tears of the Stars Pt. 02



"Dear God in Heaven!" Sally whispered, trembling. "What was that? What are you saying?"

Jackson took her hand. "Don't be scared." He said as the soothing energy flowed through him calming her nerves. "It's nothing to be afraid of. It's not the Devil's work. Think what would happen if human history lasted a billion years. Think how much we would know. And think of how that would feel to a species that's only been around as long as we have."

"How?" She asked. "How did you get it? How many people have it?"

"It's just me." He said. "They chose me. I'll never know why. That's what happened when I disappeared and when I was in the hospital. Dana knows and Stacy too. That's all."

"What are you going to do? You have to tell people. If it's really true, the world should know that there's more out there... and... what you can do..."

"There's no rush." He said calmly. "Squeeze my hand tight." He felt her squeeze it. "Part of the gift is life."

"Life?" She said not understanding. He took his wine glass and swallowed the contents. Then he shattered it in his hand taking a shard and dragging the jagged edge down his forearm tearing open a huge gash. "Jackson! What are you doing?!" She screamed. But she watched the blood remain in the wound and the skin began to grow back sealing the cut until it was gone, not even a scar. She thought she was going to break his fingers she squeezed so hard. And Jackson sent the soothing energy back into her to keep her calm. "It's not possible."

"It is possible." He said. "I'll never age. I'll live for however long I can bear it. I have a lot of information to share. But this is all new. I need time to digest it. So no one can know. Not a priest in confession, not a friend, not a stranger. The Archbishop only knows that I offered to heal him. Nothing more. I can't just announce this to world."

"Okay." She said. "How do you know they weren't angels? The ones that left it to you?"

"It's a gift, mom. Nothing more. Nothing religious. I'm not a God or a savior or an angel or anything else. I'm just a guy. Now you promise on the bible and on your faith in Jesus Christ and God Almighty and the Holy Ghost."

"I promise." She said.

"We can talk more about it tomorrow. If you ever need to talk about it then you come find me. And only me." He kissed her forehead and then picked up the shards of glass and walked back to the barn. 

Jackson hoped that telling her was the right thing to do. She was going to have to find out. What would she say when he didn't age? What would she say when people began asking questions? She was always a difficult woman, but in her heart she meant well. It hurt him to see her suffering. 

He walked back over to look at the designs on the table. It would be a great contribution to the world, he thought. And then his mind wandered back to the girls and the aching in his balls. He looked at the picture on his phone again. They looked so happy together, so beautiful. It made him hopeful. It had been so long since he had cum, since the cave with Stacy. He pulled off his shirt and then dropped his shorts. He looked down at his balls. They had grown again after the second submersion. His sack hung low and heavy with huge, aching testes, and his cock dangled down like a thick, limp trunk. 

Jackson took his phone and clothes and headed toward the stairs. He ran his hands across the top of a new oak dresser as he passed. He felt a rough spot and grimaced. His set down his things and got a piece of fine grit sand paper and a sanding block from the work bench. He knelt down at eye level with the top of the dresser looking at the grain of the wood, and then he began to run the paper down its length in long full movements, smoothing the imperfections. 

******

Sally Travers wasn't certain who bestowed such a gift on her son. All things came from God, she thought. He'd been chosen by the Divine Hand even if it was indirectly. The past two months she'd been upset about so much--his illness, his involvement with the Callaway boy and his withdrawal from her life. But it all made sense now. It was just so unbelievable. If she hadn't seen him do those things, she thought. Who would believe such a story?  Her hand shook as she filled up her wine glass.  

The Temptations were playing on the oldies station. She loved to listen to it. The stars lit up the night sky and she looked at them wondering if there really was more out there. The more she thought about it, the more questions it created. So much didn't make sense. She kept guzzling her wine, which may have been the only thing that kept her from losing it altogether. And then it all seemed to click.

Everything in this life had a purpose. And God worked in strange and mysterious ways. Sally considered that while she stared at the light coming out from the edges of the barn door. The things Jackson did were nothing short of miracles. It was God's work. She was certain of that now. He wasn't her son any longer. He was a vessel for the Lord to do great works. 

******

"I don't know what to do." Stacy said quietly. "Gosh, it's so... pretty." Her nerves were aflutter as she lay there on her belly.

Dana was lying back on the bed. Stacy's head rested between her outstretched legs. She stared at her pussy. The neatly trimmed patch of hair formed a small vee as if it were pointing her in the right direction. Her outer labia crinkled just slightly down the length of her slit. And her hooded nub poked out from between the folds near the top. 

"You don't have to." Dana said. "It's okay. I've never been with a woman either. I don't know what came over me earlier."

"But you were so good at it!" Stacy said.

"I just did what I would have liked, I guess."

Stacy smiled at that comment. There was a hint of something naughty the way she glanced back up at Dana, and the green flecks flashed in her eyes. She pressed her hands along the inside of Dana's thighs keeping her legs spread wide. Just do what I would like, she thought.

She kissed the crease of her thighs, her blonde curls falling down over her face. Her tongue licked lightly just along the outside of her lips. Jackson had done that and it drove her wild. Then she kissed the little nub, feeling Dana's body tense up at the attention to that sensitive spot. Stacy's tongue reached out slowly and wiggled between her slit, down near the entrance to her special place, and she dragged it up slowly to her clit, making a little circle with it, and then back down to where she started. 

"Ohshit!" Dana moaned out loud.  

"Is that good?" Stacy asked needing the encouragement. Her voice sounded so childish and her face looked so innocent.

Dana's mouth was slightly agape while she watched with fascination as the girl licked her again. "You're eighteen?" The question came by accident. She meant to think it. Something seemed wrong about enjoying this so much. 

"Uh huh." She said as her tongue made its way back up to her nub. The heat of her breath added another layer to the pleasure. 

Even the way she said 'uh huh' struck Dana as childish in the sexiest way. She wondered how hard Jackson tried to resist her. The girl was beautiful and innocent but somehow so incredibly sexual and so eager to please. God, she was young. But Dana didn't want to tell her to stop. "Yes!" She said breathing heavily. "It's good. It's really fucking good." 

Stacy felt emboldened by her response. Her tongue wiggled faster and then it made the small circle around her nub. But she kept it there and flicked the swollen clit. She pursed her lips sucking it into her mouth. Dana's hands had moved to her breasts. They squeezed into the flesh as her chest heaved. Her fingers latched onto her nipples, pulling them and twisting them. 

Stacy closed her eyes and used her forearms to keep Dana's thighs spread. Her face was covered in wetness from her chin to the tip of her nose. But her tongue never stopped licking and flicking. 

"Ohgawd." Dana groaned again. "Yes, there. Right there. Right on my clit."

Stacy switched and began using the flat of her tongue to lick the entire length of her opening, lapping at it. It was a different kind of sensation altogether and it gave Dana a sense of frustration and then pleasure as it kept her on edge. 

"Ohgod! Oh!" She gasped. "Put a finger inside me..." 

Stacy brought her left arm down and pushed her index finger inside of her. It felt tight and slick as she pushed it in and out. Her tongue moved back to the nub and she could hear Dana moan her approval. A second finger slipped inside as Stacy tested her boundaries and then she heard Dana's moans become ragged. She could feel her pussy clamping down on her fingers as she pushed them inside her faster. Dana's thighs began to tremble and shake. 

"Oh shit!" She gasped, her neck tightened as she began her climax. Dana gripped her nipples so tightly it looked like she might pull them off. Her eyes were open wide while she stared at Stacy. But her whole body lolled in little convulsions until it all went limp and her head fell back in the pillow. 

Stacy's tongue dragged up between her slit tasting the cum. She giggled. "You do taste sweet." She said. "Just like the visions."

Dana rolled over hugging a pillow. "Oh man." She said in disbelief. "I came so hard." She looked back over at Stacy who smiled at her. "What is going on with me? I really liked that. What did you and your brother do to me?"

"Don't ask me." She said coyly. "I'm having the same problems you are."

There was a long silence as they each caught their breath. "Why do think he hasn't called?" Dana finally asked.

Stacy just shrugged. "Mad, maybe?" She suggested. "Maybe he didn't like the picture as much as we did."

Dana hoped that wasn't the case. It was a gamble sending the photo. But she liked the underlying message: I know. It's okay. This might be fun.

Stacy crawled up and spooned her from behind. Her hand reached around cupping the swell of her breast and then rubbing her nipple. She kissed her neck softly. 

"He'll call. Don't worry." She whispered and then kissed her again. 

******

Sally nearly lost her balance when she finally stood up. She grabbed the wooden railing on the deck to straighten herself out. Then she made her way down toward the barn. The grass felt good on her bare feet and she pulled her bathrobe tighter, knotting the belt. Her son was confused. The gift he received needed to be used. He needed to show it to the world and praise God in heaven for it. 

Sally didn't even bother knocking. It took all her strength to heft the weight of the big door back on its track. But it rolled open with a small rumble and she stepped onto the concrete floor of the lower level. Jackson looked up startled. He was standing behind the dresser holding the sanding block, its height hiding his undress. 

"Jesus, mom! Don't you knock?" He said, startled.

"Jackson, do not take the Lord's name in vain." They were words he'd heard a million times. She didn't seem bothered by his annoyance. She was a bit drunk and had things to say. "I think you're wrong about all of this." She started. "I think God has given you an amazing gift. He's using you to gather His flock, Jackson." Her fingers were tracing the beveled edge of the secretary as she thought. "I think we need to have Deacon Chamblers and the Archbishop join us, and we should make some sort of statement to the press. Maybe we can do it at the hospital and you can heal the patients.  Show the world what you can do. We can preach the word of God and bring His children back to the Church..."

"What are you saying?" Jackson asked her with a look of shock. "You promised me that you would keep this quiet. You swore to me on the bible and the Holy Trinity."

Sally had a look of intent focus, albeit she was slightly drunk. "God will forgive me when he sees what we are doing in His name." She said. "I'm going to start making calls first thing in the morning."

"You can't." He pleaded. "Please don't."

"This is your path, Jackson. The whole world will see that God works through you." She had the proudest smile.

Jackson realized the mistake he'd made in telling her his secret. It was not God speaking through him. He wasn't going to use the gifts in the name of any religion. And he could not afford to be outed this way. There would come a time when he would have to step out of the shadows. But it was not now. The anger built inside of him. It bubbled up from his core. He felt a pressure building in his head and his eyes closed tightly. 

"Don't worry." Sally said. "I'll take care of everything. And you... well... you are going to restore faith in God to the world! Good night, sweetheart. It's very exciting. We'll get started first thing."

Jackson's eyes shot open. They shone so bright they looked like two green infernos, like the nebulas in the Ancient's eyes, exploding outward and then starting in the center anew. He saw her walking away.

"No." He called out with ire in his voice. "Come here." The words felt like they rippled through the air and stuck into Sally's head like a knife. She turned and walked back before she even understood what she was doing. And then she stood in the open barn door. "You will not tell anyone about my gift." He said.

"I won't tell anyone about your gift." She repeated. They weren't her words though. She didn't mean to say them. She began to panic and wanted to leave, but she couldn't do that either. She just stood there stupidly.

Jackson kept speaking as he realized what he was doing. "You will never speak of my gift. You will never acknowledge it. You will never reference it. You will never share what you know about it with anyone. Do you understand?" 

"Yes." She answered calmly, but he could see the panic. "I understand." She looked at his eyes and saw the bright green explosions inside of them.

"Good." Jackson said stepping out from around the dresser and walking closer to her. "From now on you will listen to me when I tell you to do something. Do you understand?"

"I understand." The panic reached a crescendo as he stood in front of her naked, his eyes burning bright.

His voice was cold. This power was new to him and he stuck his commands into her head burying them deep in her subconscious. It came to him like the other abilities, and his body and mind reacted as if it were natural. 

"And you will never shame Stacy ever again. You will be nothing but supportive of her in everything that she wants to do." He watched her closely. She looked like she wanted to cry. "What's wrong? You can tell me."

"Jackson, you're naked. I shouldn't see you this way." 

But he focused himself, adjusting to his new power, seeing how far it went. Sally wanted to leave. She would have begged to leave, but she found she couldn't speak again. Jackson studied her carefully. He could hear her now, inside her head, all those thoughts swirling around frantically. She was afraid of him. She wanted to run. And she didn't want to look at him naked. But there was something else in there with that thought.

Jackson's anger had morphed into fascination of his newest gift. He was picking at her like a test subject, practicing his ability at the expense of her self-respect. "You don't want to see me naked. But there's something else. Tell me what's bothering you. You have to be honest with me. You will always be honest with me."

She didn't want to be honest. Sally wanted to be anything but honest. "I don't want to see you... because I... like your penis." She whispered, the shame of it coursed through her.

He knew how wrong that sounded coming from her. But he pressed anyway. "What do you like about it?" He asked as he gave it a couple strokes with his hand. He could feel it inflating. 

Sally closed her eyes. "I like how big it is." She squeaked out. Then he heard her gasp. "It's... getting hard... it's so big..." She whispered. Her nipples pressed out the fabric of her thin robe. 

"Is that making you feel anything?"

"Yes." She said. "It's making me..." She looked back at him. Her eyes were filled with conflict. "It's making me..." Jackson could hear the words in her head. Then her gaze drifted back to his cock. He watched her hand fidgeting with the fabric on her robe. She wanted to do something bad. "It makes me so..."

Jackson stopped her before she could finally get the words out. "Look at me. Remember the things we talked about tonight." He said saving her from the embarrassment. "Now go to bed."

Sally felt herself regain control of her faculties. She turned and left the barn feeling the grass on her bare feet again. She felt such shame saying those things to him. But she felt that moist, wet heat making her pussy swollen with need. It was her fault. She knew it was her fault. He didn't make her say anything that was untrue. And that made the shame so much worse. 

Jackson watched as she disappeared through the sliding glass door on the deck. His eyes slowly turned from green to blue. Then he hung his head, disappointed and afraid of himself for the first time. Maybe it was too much power for him. Maybe he wasn't a good enough person to handle the responsibility. He shouldn't have done that to her. He should've told her to say nothing about him and sent her back inside. But some part of him enjoyed watching her struggle with her thoughts.

******

Dana and Stacy stood in the walk-in closet. They had each slept soundly in each other's arms. Now it was time to start the day.

"I don't know about this. He'll call when he's ready. Maybe he's mad at us. Maybe he's really busy and doesn't want to be bothered." Stacy looked concerned. Nothing was worse than when Jackson got mad at her about something. It always made her so nervous for as long as she could remember. She'd rather be shamed by momma than to see him upset. She thought maybe he didn't like the picture. But part of her thought that he was mad about the cave and the submersion.  

"Let me tell you a secret about men, Stacy," Dana said rifling through her drawers. "They need a woman to remind them what their priorities are sometimes. Our man hasn't responded to our text. So we're going to remind him why his priorities are mixed up. Here. Try these." She tossed her some fancy black stockings and then went to a rack of clothes. "I went on one of those super cleanses two years ago and bought some clothes that I haven't fit since. Black skirt?" She held it up for her. Dana had woken up with a new determination to accept things and move forward. 

"I guess." Stacy shrugged unsure while sliding on the stocking one at a time. They were nicer than the ones she wore yesterday. Then she took the skirt and slid into it. A decent fit. "Oh. That's kinda short." She looked in the mirror. "Are you supposed to see the tops of the stockings?" The hem of the skirt didn't cover them.

"I think it looks good." She noticed the look that Stacy gave her. "What? I was single and that skirt attracts men. Here. We'll go a little classier with a nice blouse. But I don't have a bra that'll fit you so you'll have to do without." Dana found another pair of black stockings. "Let's match. That'll be fun."

Stacy stood in the bathroom with her short sleeve white blouse tucked into the black skirt. Dana undid the top three buttons so you could see the swells of her breasts and see that she wasn't wearing a bra. Her blonde curls poofed out and she had on some light pink lip stick. It was subtle. She wore the black heels she had on yesterday. They fit well enough.

Dana joined her a moment later. Her skirt was slightly longer. But the blouse was nearly identical. She had it unbuttoned at the top as well. 

"What do you think?" Dana asked.

"We look like whores." That's what momma would've called them.

"No we don't." Dana corrected her. "We look like high class prostitutes."




The Tears that I Remembered



Note: This may start a little slow, but most of my stories take some build up. The vampire aspect of the story is somewhat subdued and presents itself fully more. I appreciate the usefulness of a quickie, but I've always found that hard to write. As always thanks for your interest. 

*

When I think back to my youth, I don't remember being all that sexual. Like so many girls in my day "sex" was something that I mainly learned from my mother. The more technical aspects were given to me in a dusty old book she gave me when it looked like I had a reasonable gentleman caller. Make no mistake: young women were having sexual relations with their men, but it wasn't talked about.

I was taught that it was something that I would do with my future husband. I fell in love, married, had the kids, raised them, sent them off to their lives, and was left with that accomplishment. Then my husband died. This was another eventuality that I was supposed to know was coming, but you never accept it. Michael was never a perfect man, but he was mine.

My children offered what solace they could, but they had their own lives. I was invited to live with them. On the surface that was very appealing. I loved them and my grandchildren, yet I never liked the idea of settling into the role of "grandma". I liked the companionship of my husband and going out as a couple. My family worried about me being alone. This is the ironic "second childhood" you experience when you get older. It's patronizing and rather insulting. Your loved ones do really care, which makes you feel worse. Did you ever want to know what makes old folks crabby? It's the helplessness in the face of sympathy. "You're old so we must pity and love you for it."

I didn't want it. My best solution was to find a new companion. A second marriage didn't appeal to me. Another woman though...She would understand.

I had friends of my age, but so many had their own problems. Eventually, with the help of an on-line program I found Helen. She was two years younger than I was: seventy. When you get that old you measure the effects of time differently. You compare the number of pills you both take and the different ailments that time or God has seen fit to levy on you.

Helen was a multiple divorcee, who had lived a relatively outgoing life until chronic illness took a toll. New medication steadied her condition, but the damage was done. She was Italian-American by birth, and in her old pictures had a thick mane of black hair and creamy olive skin. Age had weathered that, but she was still very attractive. I was rather envious of her really. I had been a rather average-looking pale blonde girl in my youth. 

After two weeks of getting to know each other she moved in. My family said it was good that I found someone to spend my time with. I knew that they thought I was in denial, but I wasn't about to give them the satisfaction. Helen became my new partner. In the old days this was considered to be a normal thing, and so it was with us. It was probably easier than it would've been if my husband had lived longer. They say a man's mind goes before his wife's. That seemed like a great responsibility, but Helen was sharp as a tack. She reminded me of every pill and every doctor's appointment, which helped me maintain the level of dignity which I wanted.

I began to really love her in a way. Not like people talk about women loving women now, but of a love you only get when another person knows all of your weaknesses. They don't write poems about that.

"Grace," she said to me. "You're better than my first two husbands. You actually listen to me."

"Only because you're usually right," I said, and that was our life.

Then one night, just after the sun when down, Helen had a visitor: a tall man of probably twenty years old or so. I thought he was her grandson. She seemed very perturbed to see him, and asked for some privacy, which I of course gave her.

Two hours later the young man left and Helen was on the verge of tears. I asked her what was wrong, but she put up her strong front as always. I let it go. If you care for someone you give them the space when they need it. Three days later we were having lunch at one of our usual restaurants when she asked me a question.

"If you could have what you once had...if you could go back, would you?"

"Back to my husband? Probably, but I would still want you to live with us."

"No," she said. "I mean before that. When you were a truly young woman and did what you wanted."

I smiled at the delightful whimsy of it. "Maybe that was you, but I usually lived at the behest and service of others."

"That's why this is important," she said. "You and I know what it is to lose that freedom that we once craved."

I had to play along. When it's someone you care about you have to. "I suppose. Why? You seem odd since that boy visited you. Is he a relative?"

"No. A lover. I cheated on my first husband with him."

"Helen! Surely you must be joking. That boy is young enough to be your grandchild."

"He wasn't always though. I haven't seen him in almost forty years."

I shook my head at her. There was only so much I could take. "Impossible."

"I thought so too," she said, "But now I wonder."

I couldn't believe it. Helen, who had always been as grounded in reality as anyone and as sharp as a razor was slipping into the delusion of fantasy. I'd been certain that I'd be the first one it would happen to. Once again fate had proven to be cruel. I wasn't about to abandon her though. Helen dropped the subject, and we proceeded as we always did. One night I went to bed early as usual...

I woke up only a few hours later to the sound of screaming. It sounded like some gaudy horror movie at first, but after a minute I knew it was Helen. It was that moment that both of us had come to fear: the panicked moment when you realize that you're dying. I struggled to get up—my hips troubling me as always. This couldn't be happening to Helen. Not my Helen!

After fighting to get my robe on, I waddled down the hall to Helen's room, and knocked desperately at the door.

"Let me in, Helen. Let me help you."

"Stay away," she cried. Her voice higher than usual. "I need this."

I thought that it must be suicide. Sadly this is not uncommon among older folk. I pounded at the door, but to no avail. Eventually, exhaustion got the better of me, and I passed out. I'm not sure how long I was out. Hours or minutes. It didn't matter. When I woke I was certain that my friend was dead, and that I'd be stuck on the ground until my own screams brought a neighbor over to help.

Then Helen's door opened. I saw a young woman who couldn't be more than eighteen standing there. Her olive skin was tight and formed over a delightfully curvy body. She had the kind of mischievous sexuality in her appearance that a woman my age would see as being improper and maybe even "whorish". This made it all the more shocking when she finally spoke to me.

"Oh my God, Grace. Did you fall?"

"Who are you?"

She smiled. "It's Helen. Amazing huh?"

I yelled into the room for Helen. This girl had to be a criminal who broke in and attacked her. That's why I heard the screams.

"There's no one else here, Grace. Cut it out with the screaming. Our voices get so annoying when they're old. Like mine now? I haven't heard it in years."

"You can't be Helen. Helen is seventy years old."

"Was, but now look at me." She arched her young and svelte body. Her firm breasts were high on her chest and not sagging to the earth like mine.

She then listed all the pills I took and when. Then the names of my doctors and all the little complaints I had about each one. The information was perfect.

"This isn't possible," I said.

"It is." She retrieved one of her old photos, and the face was nearly identical. I did notice that he old self wasn't nearly as busty as she was now. Helen, apparently, helped me to slowly get up. My legs were asleep, and she had to guide me to the couch. My hips were killing me.

"It hurts so much," I whimpered.

"I know, dear," she said, "But it will be fine."

It was unnerving to have someone so young say that to me, and made me feel like I was in a hospital bed with a young nurse fidgeting over my pitiful complaints. It was almost intolerable.

"How did you do this?" I asked. 

"Not right now. I need to make sure you're alright. Did you need a half a Vicodin?"

I shook my head. Pain pills were hard on my stomach despite their wonderful effects. Instead she made me comfortable, and even massaged my legs. While that once had been a wonderful thing between us, it was now very awkward. The rest of the night went that way. After several hours I felt better, and insisted that no doctors be called. Learning the answers I sought was much more important.

"Helen," I said. "If that is you, tell me what happened."

This beautiful, young woman before me seemed to collect her thoughts for a time. 

"That man you saw me with was my boyfriend decades ago. My marriage was already dead on the inside and I was focusing more on work. Thomas was a wonderful distraction that I found, but he left me instead of staying. Then he appeared that day you were with me. He was an archeologist in his day and focused on the early Americas. You've heard of the fountain of youth?"

"You must be kidding. Let me guess, he brought his fountain with him and tossed you in?"

Helen burst out laughing. "Of course not. He has become it."

"What?"

"His blood and his...cum. I haven't said that word in years. He looked me up on-line somehow and gave me his gift."

She shuddered all of a sudden and stood with her legs crossed like a nervous girl.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm..."she struggled to say it. "I'm so wet...I need to...I'm sorry."

Helen flopped onto the couch next to me and pulled up her nightie. She wore nothing beneath it, and I saw her lithe and tight body. I stared at the glistening wetness between her legs. Helen had only the slightest trace of hair at the top of her pussy. I used that word. I never used to...

Helen began frantically kneading her fingers into her pussy, and squirmed atop her own hand. I sat and watched with my mouth agape. I had never in my life seen such a thing.

Her breathing became frenetic as she increased her speed. Her other hand massaged her breasts and I could only watch in supreme fascination.

"Helen...what?"

"I'm sorry, Grace, but I need it. I haven't felt this in years. It's so strong."

The musky scent of her sex was in the air. As I watched I felt the slightest tinkle within myself, but I just didn't seem to have enough of it within me.

"Grace she said, and looked into my eyes with need. "Please help me."

"How?"

"Could you...could you put your finger in my butt?"

"Helen, are you crazy?"

"Yes! I need it, please. We help each other, right? There's no embarrassment between us anymore."

So much of me wanted to run away. To remain in that quiet and safe life, but this was Helen. I loved her. Maybe not in that way, but she was desperate.

"What do I do?"

"Just spit on your finger, and tease around the hole. It has to be slow or it will hurt."

I leaned in close and felt the heat coming off of her. Helen propped herself up on the couch, and I got a marvelous look at her masturbating. I hadn't done it in decades and seeing another woman do it was incredible.

"Please hurry."

Her young and tight bottom was exposed to me. The small and wrinkled star moved intensely as though it was dilating. I licked my index finger up and down and finally spit all over it. I lightly teased around the entrance as she told me to do so. I tickled, prodded, and applied pressure.

Slowly, I worked it into her and Helen yelped, and then sighed in pleasure.

She was so tight and the heat inside her was immense. This was totally new to me and very scary in many ways, but I was committed now.

"Keep going," she cried. "I'm almost there."

I obeyed her, and as I worked in another finger, Helen's hand that had been fondling her breasts began pounding the armrest of the couch. The juice from her pussy flowed down onto my hand, and I couldn't help but look at that magnificent crevice and wonder what it would be like to put my finger in there...or maybe even my tongue.

Helen cried my name and her whole body shook with her orgasm. Her eyes squeezed tight, and she held her breath, and shook her head repeatedly.

After a tremendous sigh and exhale she relaxed. I removed my fingers and leaned back to bask in awe of her. She was amazing. I couldn't believe what we had one. What I had done. Instinctively, I sniffed at my fingers, but there was no trace of any foulness whatsoever. All I could smell was her wonderful juices.

"What did we do?" I asked not believing it. 

Her eyes opened and she smiled at me with young dimples showing. 

"You helped me," she said. "I haven't done anything with another woman since I was in school. You were great."

"I don't know what to say."

She kissed me then. "I want to help you, and you will say 'yes'."

"What?"

"I'll bring Thomas back here. He'll do for you what he did for me."

"Uhhh..."

"Think of it, Grace: you and I as we were. We could do stuff like this all the time, and I'll do it for you. I want to pleasure you. Please say 'yes'."

"I'm scared, Helen. This doesn't seem right."

"It's okay." Helen held me. "We still have some time. Think about it though.

I could think of nothing else.