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Canada

By: Journeywell



It was a beautiful, sunny afternoon on lake just like many others they had experienced together on that long boat ride back to camp after Monday morning meetings. Today would be different however in so many ways although neither of them knew it at this point. John had decided that the scenic route would be the best way to return to camp this afternoon. They were caught up in conversation about the failing state of the organization they both had called home for many years. They loved this dearly, but were sad to see the continued decline of morale and student enrollment. As well, the seeming inability of others to see the reality of what was occurring frustrated both of them greatly possibly even angering them. As they were chatting and becoming more animated they kept on going and missed their turn around Bear Island. Sarah noticed this however did not wish to say anything due to enjoying the conversation so much and wanting it to continue. Besides, they would not be missed if they were gone a few extra minutes. Dinner on Monday night had been a scarce commodity for each of them this summer as conversations over the phone became more and more heated with each passing week. It seemed that the attempts each of them had been making at presenting reality as they saw were being met with dumbfounded responses as nobody wished to face what was actually occurring.

As they continued boating across the water, each of them enjoyed the beauty of the natural environment of which they were a part of and wondered if this would be the last summer to enjoy the vastness of the Northern Ontario wilderness. Today was exceptionally beautiful as the sun was shining and reflecting off the waves on the water. The trees blew in the breeze and loons sang out in chorus over the sound of the boat motor's roar. 

Sarah leaned forward in her seat resting her head her arms. She had been so afraid of coming to this place six years ago. Now she found it to be the place that she felt most at home in the world. There was no need to pretend that she was somebody she was not. She had been accepted for who she was here and been challenged to grow in this world. She liked herself more and more in this environment. Maybe because the distractions and pretenses were gone as everyone worked together to survive in this harsh land. Maybe because there was no pressure to be someone she was not, someone that dressed in frilly clothes and cared about wearing make-up. She could wear hiking boots or her Chacos in almost any environment and be perceived as casual, dressy or even attractive. She was also feeling more and more at home within her personality. She could be somewhat soft and continue to be a good leader. She was able to take in others' personality and learned interpret them well to others. This was a gift as she did this well among both staff and students alike, being a bridge identifying others good intentions at learning to love well while fumbling with the execution of these intentions. 

Sarah reminisced about the past an how she had been so afraid of many things and of John and now she felt so at home in his presence and not at all on edge and wondering his motives. She looked back on the days when she would freeze up when he was around unable to think at all for fear that he would judge her as an unfit staff member. With these thoughts, she sighed deeply and unknowingly began to tear up.

John turned his glance in her direction wondering what she was thinking. Despite the questioning in his mind, he struggled in his ability to share these thoughts aloud instead just placing his hand on her shoulder and squeezing it in an assuring way that only they would understand within the context of their relationship. With this, Sarah was startled back to the here and now. Turning her head from its forward facing position, she looked up at him and wondered what his eyes were saying behind his sunglasses. She understood his need to wear them, both for their function of blocking out the glare of the sun and as a shield to protect his heart. So often, she wished that he did not hide behind these lenses because it severely hindered her ability to read him. His eyes truly were the windows to his soul. Without words, Sarah was often able to read him through his eyes. Knowing that this would not be allowed to occur this afternoon, Sarah took a risk and asked him what he was thinking. 

John was slow to respond to this line of questioning as he was so often disconnected from his own feelings. He lowered the motor's rpm, took off his sunglasses and exhaled slowly as if there were something physically preventing him from speaking until doing so. He then continued, "I just looked over and saw a tear running down your face. I know that emotions run deep in you and that you are more likely to help others express their emotions than to share your own, although they affect you deeply. I was wondering what you were thinking and feeling and whether you would be willing to share these things with me. You see, I admire your ability to learn to understand me. I love so much, how you have come to understand who I really am, accept me for that person and challenge me to learn different ways of relating all without being as condescending as many other therapists and other can be. Or have been really. You don't judge me and just love me. You understand me and I want to understand you too, if you'll let me."

With this expression of his hidden heart's desire, Sarah began sobbing. She had recognized that she had the uncanny ability that others valued, especially in relation to John, but she had no idea that he valued this gift in her. Never in her life had she experienced somebody just "getting" her in this way. As her sobbing increased the compassion and love for her swelled in John's heart. An emotion he had rarely allowed himself to feel let alone express. He turned toward her in his seat and opened he arms toward her with an impish grin spreading across his face. This expression is one that Sarah had grown to love knowing it was attached to his heart and one of the few ways he knew to express the emotions that so rarely entered his consciousness. At this, Sarah fell into him. His broad shoulders almost swallowing her and containing the emotion that so often she feared would destroy her. 

Sarah had always felt safe in this place. In John's arms, she found safety and security she did not find within herself and the traumatic past she had endured. John knew this about her and offered her the one thing he knew would calm her and allow her continue to be in this place and experience the overwhelming place that seemed to consume her at this point. Sarah became lost in his touch and scent; that woodsy, manly, musky scent that made her sense that he was strong and would not allow her to be overcome by these thoughts and feelings inside of her. John held on as tightly as possible in order to continue to allow her to feel his presence. It was as if they were joined together in that time, connected with and intense depth, heart, soul and mind.

After a few minutes of this Sarah began feeling a bit uneasy with this intense connection and wondered if she may not be expecting too much from this man after all she did not wish to become a burden to him as she enjoyed so much the times when he offered himself to her as the strong man that he was. He was not afraid of her emotions as so many had been in the past and had abandoned her. Sarah strived not be needy as a result of her past wishing not to push any others especially men away from her. How to exit this situation and show gratitude was the thought running through Sarah's mind. She inhaled once more taking in his scent in order to try to remember this in the future to bring comfort to herself. As she exhaled, she mumbled something to the effect of, "Umm, thanks and I'm sorry to have fallen apart like that." With that, Sarah pushed herself up from the position that she felt most safe in the world. 

John looked a bit confused as if his gears had been turning for too long in his mind. He turned toward her, grinned from ear to ear, and asked, "Would you like to come with me? I've wanted to take you to this place for awhile now, but haven't had the courage to ask because I wasn't sure how you would respond."

Sarah swallowed deeply while longing for more connection with him, but unsure how to express this desire. She responded to his question with a timid, "Sure." Not knowing what would occur or where they were going, at least time would meet part of this need for intimate connection. Sarah agreed to go with him. As they drove across the water, John pointed out the bald eagle flying above them seeming to map out the path for them to take. It was massive and reinforced the desire each of them had to continue to be allowed to spend their summers in this unspoiled land. It didn't matter the amount of pain from either the at-risk youth they worked among or the challenges they faced within the failing state of the organization of which they were a part, this was where each of them felt most at home and alive. The idea of never being allowed to come back to this sacred place was heart-wrenching and each of them knew without words that this would be the last summer here despite words to the contrary by other administrators within the organization that were 12 hours away in the safety of an office somewhere. Due to this intuitive knowledge, their grieving process had begun and each of them had started to do their best to hold onto all that was special in this place. 

When they entered the little cove just beyond the island on the northeast side of Rabbit Island, John continued going until they entered the inlet that lead to the small island where the female student did their solo experiences. John parked the boat and helped Sarah out as he had done many times in the past. This time though he seemed to take more care and his touches lingered. Sarah wondered if what she had hoped for so long could possibly be happening now. If it was, she did not know how she would respond. She just feared that her emotions would not scare him away as she dreamt of the possibility of this occasion for some time. Never had she allowed herself to believe it could be anything more than a dream.

As they walked up the steep incline, Sarah could not help but look a John's shapely rear and legs. My goodness she thought as she had in the past he was so strong. She wondered what it would be like to have him use this strength to show her the depths of his feelings for her. She had always imagined it could be the most life-altering thing she ever experienced and that he would be so powerful that she would give way to desires she did not know she had. In her fantasies, Sarah imagined that John's strength would cause her pain, but in a good way, kind of like that of the most intense workout in your life. Where you feel exhausted and consumed in the end but know that it was so good and pleasurable that you cannot wait to consume more and more. Finally, they reached the top of the incline to a clearing. Shaded by birch and cedar trees was a secluded area covered with grass. Surely, this place was carved out of the wilderness just for them. 

With their arrival, John looked at Sarah and began to share how he had longed for the day when he would be able to share the depths of his love for her. He understood the wounds she had endured and how she feared that no one could or would ever accept her. Sarah began sobbing again with this as she was beginning to understand what this time together was going to mean. The fear that often consumed her was leaving and all she felt was beautiful and loved.

John approached her and began to take off his jacket. He did lie this down gingerly which seemed odd for a man of his size and strength. Sarah recognized his desire to be careful and love began to swell within her. John then reached toward her hand and guided her to the blanket of his coat. He then lowered them to their knees. As they knelt there alone in the wilderness, in the secluded space carved out just for them, John began to express his desire to share with her this special time and express his love in a way that allowed her to feel special and not used as she had in the past. He then tipped his head slightly and lowered it to her lips. Sarah was unsure how to respond as she had not been kissed nor had she ever kissed a man. John was gentle knowing that fear would consume their time if he was not. As he pressed himself toward her, Sarah started be search for him. She began to open her mouth and respond. She did not know quite how to do this, but she wished to try. She licked his lips and began trying to force herself into his mouth. It was great to feel the warmth of his body in this way and to have him respond in a way that was not pressuring her but also allowed her to explore this new territory in front of her. Not only was his scent intoxicating, but also she was able to taste him for the first time. All of her senses were beginning to explode with this entirely new type of stimuli she was encountering. She reached up under his shirt and began to explore his chest. It was so warm and his nipples were so stiff with excitement. Sarah could not help but begin kneading his chest, belly, shoulder and back taking careful assessment of how he felt to her. Sarah twisted a nipple wondering how he might respond. With this he drew back inhaling sharply. 

He then began to peel off the layers of clothing he wore. Sarah was now able to see those broad shoulders that she had become lost in so many times. She reached up to touch the naked skin that was a part of the body that she had so often found comfort within. She began kneading his chest and upper arms eventually moving up to his head and grabbing his hair as she began to nuzzle his neck. Sarah loved being this close with him especially as he began to respond physically to her curious touches. As she continued nuzzling, she began to lick the salty taste from him. He sharply grimaced as she began nibbling at his nipples.

With this, John began to become more urgent in his need. He reached toward Sarah and pulled off her fleece and then the shirt she was wearing. To his surprise, Sarah had on a very scandalous bra. One that was animal print and a total surprise to him as it lifted her ample cleavage toward his face. He buried himself in this while kneading with his hands. Sarah began to feel anxious desire to have his strong and calloused hands touching the soft skin of her bosom. She reached up lowering her bra straps indicating to him that he could go further if he desired. To which he responded by quickly unclasping her bra from behind. 

Sarah's breasts spilling forward, John began nuzzling her neck and grasping her taunt nipples. Sarah longed for him to consume her. Sarah reached down lifting herself toward his mouth. John responded by licking ravenously and sucking hard as Sarah insides began to prepare for what would happen in the next few minutes. She reached forward grasping at his waistband to find the length of him protruding forward. Sarah hoped for the day when she would see him and be able to touch him in ways that relieved her curiosity. Unbuttoning his jeans, was her invitation for him to begin to have his way with her. John reached forward grasping at her waste unbuttoning her jeans and lowering them to her knees. He began kneading her backside and lower back, causing Sarah to buck forward longing to be filled to her depths. John took his time though lying her down and slowly removing her shoes and pants. Surprised by matching pair of panties she wore and wondering to himself who this girl was that dressed in such a sexy manner underneath unassuming attire. 

He could see her inner thighs beginning to glisten with moisture and ran his fingers upward toward the secret place of her. She longed for him to fill her however; he could not meet this need yet and continued focusing on her upper body and breasts. John continued kissing her and fondling her bosom. Sucking and biting hard at her nipples. He licked a trail toward her panties and began to remove them. He was taken aback by the tattoo her found of a butterfly. Who was the woman that he was only now discovering another side to? 

He stood to remove his pants and briefs. Sarah was amazed with girth of his manhood and surprised to find that he was uncircumcised, as she had suspected in her thoughts of what this day might be like. Yes, she had had many thoughts of this day as she masturbated herself to sleep several times each week. She grasp at his length as he lowered himself to his knees and begged him to enter and begin ravaging her. He questioned this not fully understanding how someone with her history would long for this. Sarah explained that she had so controlled so much of her life that she longed to know that she could surrender to someone that she knew was safe and loved her. She longed to allow herself to trust someone else and lose control. 

With this thought, John began kissing her again and squeezing her breasts, so hard Sarah knew they would carry bruises the next day. He forced his tongue into her mouth and kissed her long and deep cutting off her breathing. She was becoming lightheaded and her wetness grew within her. She began dribbling out of herself onto his coat. She bucked as her uterus lifted and vagina swelled. She needed him and longed for him to enter her. He continued refusing and moved his hands downward toward her warmth. He pressed hard on her clit. She bucked feverishly, longing to be filled by his manhood and lose control. He would not allow it and continued his deep exploration of her nether regions. He shoved two fingers and then three working his way up to his entire hand up to his wrist. Sarah was stretched and pulled in ways she had never dreamed possible as John bent down to nibble on her clit. Sarah continued to long for John's manhood to fill her and to lose control together. He removed his hand and changed positions over top of her. Sarah closed her eyes in order to feel the experience and raised her legs toward her shoulders as John thrust his entire self into her with a sudden jolt.

Canada-I-O



Julie looked out the window of the airplane and felt both giddy and nauseous. "Am I insane?" she wondered for the fiftieth time that day. "What if he hates me? What if throws me off his verandah? What if he's indifferent, and doesn't even care that I've come?" Julie posed one absurd question after another, partly to draw out her unspoken fears, and partly to prepare herself for the worst.

It had been just over a year since she'd last spoken to Aaron, and it still made her wince with pain to remember that evening. Theirs had been a whirlwind romance lasting only six months, but it was more intense than anything she'd ever experienced. 

And they had never even laid eyes on each other.

She had met Aaron on the internet a year and a half ago, after stumbling upon some photographs he had posted on his web page. He was a professional photographer, and his pictures were captivating and beautiful; she had been so impressed that she wrote him a brief message, thanking him for posting and saying how much she liked them.

Surprisingly, he had written her back. Then she wrote again. Before the first week had passed, they were chatting back and forth many times a day like old friends, talking and laughing about everything, including sex. 

They hadn't intended to fall in love. 

Julie's thoughts were interrupted by an attendant's arm leaning across the passengers next to her and offering her the drink she'd ordered. Julie smiled politely and accepted the plastic cup and held it on her lap as she turned her gaze out the window at the blue sky once again. 

By all accounts, Julie was what people would describe as "together." She was an attractive – many people had called her beautiful even – woman of thirty-two with long brown hair, fair skin, blue eyes and an eye-catching figure...full breasts, slim waist and a curve to her hips that, unbeknownst to her, made men want to come up behind her and press their cocks into her smooth, round ass. 

But that hadn't happened to her in a long time.

She had married young, and it had been five years since her painful divorce. She'd given up on ever finding love again, not that she'd been looking. The handful of men brave enough to approach her were nicely but coolly refused. She had secretly vowed to never be in a position to be hurt again like her divorce had done, so she simply refused to even take the risk.

Until eighteen months ago, that is. Even then, she had found herself in love with Aaron before she knew it was happening. 

Their long-distance relationship was intimate and intense, more so than she would have thought possible. He was two years older than she was, and they spoke and laughed about anything and everything; she knew what he did every day, knew all about his family and his thoughts, and he knew as much about her. 

She also knew what kind of a lover he was, from the countless times they'd made each other orgasm while speaking on the telephone, and sharing fantasies about being together someday, even spending the rest of their lives together.

And then that evening last year ended everything. It was a silly argument, really, and yet it resulted in him making an ultimatum he didn't quite mean to sound the way it did, her stubbornly refusing to be dictated to, and both of them saying that their relationship wouldn't work in the long run. That was how it ended.

Julie sipped her white wine and sighed, settling back into her seat as she remembered the last time she had contact with Aaron. She knew they were both simply scared. Scared of being hurt, of being rejected, and that's why they reacted the way they did sometimes, like a nervous cat ready to skitter away at the slightest fright.

The last year had been difficult and lonely. Outwardly, Julie was pleasant, bright, and laughed almost as much as ever, and was serious about her job as business manager of a large ambulance transport agency. She felt as if she was actually helping the community, and the interaction with patients and family members who had been helped was rewarding. 

Inwardly, she still felt like she'd been punched in the stomach. 

For weeks, she had been watching the calendar, knowing Aaron's birthday was approaching and wondering if he still missed her. 

She'd daydreamed many times about visiting him in the little town where he lived on the east coast of Canada, studied the community's web site and had heard him describe the people and places often enough that she felt like she knew and already loved the area.

What wild hair made her actually book the long flight from the west coast state where she resided, she didn't know, but here she was sipping wine from a plastic cup and nervously wondering what would happen when she knocked on Aaron's door. 

"What will I say? 'Happy Birthday, I'm here!' or should I phone him first?" Julie had asked herself those questions many times, but still had no answers. 

A thought suddenly startled her. "What if he's married? What if he's living with someone?" Why hadn't that occurred to her before? She closed her eyes and felt the wave of nausea flood her.

"I'm such an idiot. What the hell am I doing?" 

Julie swallowed another gulp of her wine and took a deep breath. It was too late to back out now, but at least she decided she had better call him on the telephone first, in case he wasn't alone. 

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

It was a warm August afternoon and the cool breeze off the bay felt good on Julie's arms and legs as she stepped out of her rental car the next day in front of Weyville's one and only Inn, where she had made a reservation. She tried not to look around too noticeably at the surrounding houses; she knew Aaron's house was less than a block away from the Inn, and she wasn't ready to see it or him yet, or have him see her either.

She left her luggage but carried her purse and opened the front door into a small, friendly-looking room used as a lobby. A middle-aged woman looked at her from behind the table and smiled.

"Hi," Julie announced with a shy smile. "I'm Julie Eldridge. I have a reservation." 

"Welcome to the Weyville Inn," the woman greeted warmly. "Oh yes, here it is. You've traveled a long way... did you have a nice trip?"

Julie made small talk with Rose, as she discovered her name was, assuring her that her flight was long but uneventful, and when Rose asked what brought her to Weyville, Julie was as evasive as possible without evoking too much curiosity. Julie knew it was probably uncommon to see a woman traveling to a place like this alone, but her natural reserve wouldn't allow her to mention her true reason for coming.

Besides, what would she say? "Uh, well...you see, I met this man on the internet who lives near here, and although we haven't spoken in a year, I just had to see him, and find out if he still loves and misses me..." Julie inwardly rolled her eyes at how that would sound. Rose would probably think she was a crazy stalker and call the police. Then she'd have to tell it to the judge. Cripes.

Julie retrieved her belongings and carried her suitcase up the stairs to room number "4" and used the key to open the door. She walked inside and looked around the room, her eyes lighting on the telephone next to the bed. Closing the door, she dropped the case and sat on the bed, staring at the phone. No, not yet. She wasn't ready to call Aaron yet.

She walked to the window and looked out through the lace curtains and tried to orient herself to where Aaron's house would be. Maybe she'd be able to see if there were two cars in the driveway, or tell if there were signs of a woman living there, and save them all some embarrassment, but she finally determined that Aaron's house wasn't visible from her room, and she returned to her suitcase and began unpacking a few items.

She made short work of hanging up the clothes she'd brought with her, then slipped out of her sundress, panties and bra, and turned on the shower.

The hot water poured over her skin, and for a long time Julie just stood there, letting the sensation of the prickly spray on her soft skin calm her. She poured body wash into her palm and began to lather her skin, running her hands methodically over her tanned arms and legs, then her breasts and stomach. 

She paused and ran her hands over her breasts again. With her fingers she felt her pert, pink nipples and twisted them gently. As she had done countless times, she imagined Aaron's lips wrapped around her nipples, sucking and tugging them with his mouth, then burying his face between her tits, kissing her skin while he massaged her more-than-a-handful breasts.

Filling her palm with more soap, she lathered between her thighs, closing her eyes and feeling every fold, running her fingers over her labia and down the crack toward her little pucker. So often she had dreamed about Aaron's cock fucking her pussy and then drawing out and entering her ass slowly. 

She didn't want to make herself come right then, even though she was horny as hell. She wanted to savor the desire, and keep it with her. She sighed and opened her eyes. She felt the little stubble with her fingers and decided to shave again around her vulva, and then her legs and underarms, while she was at it.

As she carefully ran the razor over her sensitive skin, she wondered. Would there finally be another pair of hands feeling her glistening smoothness? Is it possible that Aaron would still want her?

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

An hour later, Julie had her robe on and was sitting on the bed with Aaron's phone number in her hand. "It's time," she told herself. She took a deep breath and picked up the handset. She had been debating with herself about what she should say, how she should sound, and generally building up the courage to punch in those numbers. Finally she did it.

One ring. Then a second. "Fuck. Maybe he's not home. That would be a little anticlimactic, wouldn't it?" Julie wryly joked to herself. On the third ring, someone picked up the phone and a man's voice said, "Hello?"

Julie swallowed. It was Aaron. Oh dammit! Julie had a brief moment of panic, but took a breath and replied, "Aaron? This is Julie."

There was silence, then Aaron muttered, "Oh my god...Julie."

Julie felt tears rise to the surface of her eyes, but forced them to remain at bay until she said what she needed to say. She could cry later.

"Aaron, listen to me, and don't say anything, please. I'm...I'm at the Inn across the street right now. It was probably a stupid thing to do, but I did it, and I'm here, and I don't expect you to want to see me, but I had to come, I don't even know why, except I miss you."

Julie paused for air and to mentally kick herself for sounding like such a gushing fool. There was still silence on the other end of the telephone, so she continued talking.

"I want you to think about it, Aaron. If you want to see me, I'll be here in room Four until tomorrow. Think about it and call me back if you do. If not, I'll understand. I'll leave and I won't bother you again, I promise."

Another breath. Another mental kick. She was going to get awfully hungry if she just promised to stay in her room until tomorrow.

"I...I hope to talk to you later. Bye."

Julie face grimaced with pain as she placed the receiver down. Fuck! That might have been the only chance she would ever have to talk to Aaron and she didn't even let him say a word. But she knew him well enough to know that he would need time to think after such a shock as her turning up practically next door. 

Now she could only wait.

She allowed the tears that had welled up in her eyes escape down her cheeks, then she brushed them away and stood up. 

She slipped the robe off her shoulders and hung it from a hook on the bathroom door. She looked at her naked form in the full length mirror on the wall. She had to admit, she didn't look bad. She didn't spend much time thinking about her naked body, but she did work out, and could see the result of that effort in the long curves of her calves and thighs, and her breasts that were still firm above her smooth stomach. 

Julie walked to the bureau and opened the top drawer where she had put away her underclothes. Selecting a pretty white bra with lace trim and matching panties, she put them on and looked over her simple wardrobe hanging in the closet. 

Settling on a pink sleeveless summer dress, she finished dressing, brushed her hair, and then picked up the book of poetry she'd packed and curled up in a comfortable chair by the window.

She began reading half-heartedly, trying only to take her mind off what was happening a few houses away. Soon however, she was interested in Byron's sentimental observations of the Rhine and was surprised to look up to find almost two hours had passed.

Her heart began to sink. Would she sit here all evening and then just get in her car tomorrow and go? 

"Well, what did you expect?" Julie pondered as she stared out the window from her chair. "Did you think he was going to call right back?" She looked down and realized that yes, at least that's what she had hoped. She needed to prepare herself for the possibility that he wasn't going to call back at all.

She closed her eyes and rested her head back on the chair.

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

Julie woke with a start an hour later by a knock on the door. Her book fell to the floor and she was disoriented for a few seconds. There it was, another knock. Blinking the sleepiness from her eyes, she ran to the door and opened it.

Aaron was standing in the hallway in front of her, a little grin on his face, and she couldn't even speak. 

They had exchanged photographs of each other, and they had talked about what it would be like to actually see each other for the first time. All those conversations and daydreams were running through her mind, but still no words were coming.

Aaron stepped toward her, closing the door behind him, and put his hands on her shoulders. 

"It's good to see you, Julie," he spoke quietly, his blue eyes never leaving hers. 

Aaron looked exactly as she'd imagined from his photos and descriptions. Dark hair, deep blue eyes...and that familiar voice that she loved. 

"Hi Aaron," Julie managed a smile, still watching his face for any clue of what he was feeling.

Aaron's arms pulled Julie toward him and then wrapped around her back. She buried her face in his neck and hugged him tightly. They stood like that for a full minute, neither of them saying a word. Finally Aaron moved his hands back to Julie's shoulders and spoke.

"I would have come sooner but I needed to take a shower and pick up the house a little."

Julie laughed out of sheer relief, and so did Aaron. Then she was touched by the sweetness of him wanting to clean his house before she saw it, and without thinking, leaned her face toward his. 

Their first kiss began tentatively, each of them wanting to remember exactly what this felt like, savoring the warm breath of the other, the feel of soft lips pressing against their own. The next kisses were firmer, more insistent, tongues slowly sliding between lips to search each other out. 

They stood there kissing again and again, Julie's hands wrapped around Aaron's neck and head, and Aaron's hands stroking her back. Julie moaned softly when Aaron's left hand moved to cup her breast from the side, and she pressed her hips against his, feeling for the first time his hard cock trapped inside his pants.

"You're not....with anyone?" Julie had to ask before they went further. 

Aaron dropped his hands to her waist and kept her close. Looking seriously into her face, he answered, "No. I'm not." With a small sigh he looked down and said quietly, "There hasn't been anyone since you."

Julie watched him as he spoke, and her heart was both aching for the hurt he felt, and overflowing with the fact that he might still want her.

"You?" he asked, without looking up.

"Oh Aaron," Julie began, wondering how she could possibly convey what she was feeling. "No, I haven't been with anyone. And I'm sorry for the way it ended a year ago. I think we were both scared, maybe...it was all so intense, talking about leaving my job and family to move so far away. I never stopped loving you."

Julie's voice began to fail her. Aaron raised a hand and rested it beneath Julie's chin, lifting her face so she would look him in the eyes as he spoke.

"I never stopped loving you either." He lowered his face to kiss away the single tear that slid down Julie's cheek, and then their lips met again, the salty wetness tasted by them both.

Their passion seemed to be unleashed with that kiss, which rapidly deepened. Aaron's hand moved back up to Julie's breast and squeezed, running his thumb across the hard little nipple.

"God, I love your tits...I've dreamed about feeling them and sucking on them," he whispered. 

"So have I," Julie gasped, her head thrown back as Aaron began trailing kisses down her neck. 

He guided her backwards until she was laying the bed and he lowered himself on top of her, continuing the soft, slow kisses over her chest. He slid his hand underneath the top of her low-cut dress and felt the smooth swell of her breast and then her nipple. He pinched it a little and Julie moaned again.

Aaron's arousal was evident, and poking into Julie's leg. She'd dreamed of this day for so long, of having his body pressed against her, touching his skin, tasting him. She'd waited a year and a half, and was growing impatient now that he was within reach. 

She tugged on his pullover, and Aaron raised his arms enough to allow her to lift it over his head; it went flying. Aaron wasted no time reaching under the hem of her dress and bringing it up her body and off. 

He stopped and looked at her in her white bra and little panties. "God, you're...you're so beautiful, Julie. Are you sure this is what you want?" He searched her face as he asked, both of them already breathing hard with excitement. 

"Aaron, yes. Yes, I'm absolutely sure this is what I want. You are what I want. I am absolutely, positively sure," Julie replied fervently, so as to leave no doubt in Aaron's mind. 

Aaron's intense expression relaxed and a small grin replaced it. "Well then...if you're sure..." he teased, resuming his exploration of her skin, kissing her stomach while Julie shivered with anticipation.

He slid her panties off her legs and positioned himself between them, just looking at the loveliness...the smooth outer lips already moistened by her arousal, the tuft of brown hair above where her vulva began. His fingers, with the care and precision of a doctor giving an examination, spread the outer lips apart and he lowered his face, first taking a deep breath, then drawing his tongue all the way up one side of her opening, then again all the way up the other side.

"Oh my god...Aaron..." Julie fought to hold still, her body still shaking from the sensation. Aaron licked again, up one side, then the other, each time a little closer to home, and finally licking exactly up the center of her slit, ending with his tongue circling her little bud, still encased in soft flesh, but so sensitive.

Julie was squirming, making little unintelligible noises the whole time Aaron was offering his ministrations to her womanhood, and she could only groan as he worked her clit around with his tongue, then his lips. One of Aaron's fingers wiggled at the entrance to her vagina and slipped easily in. 

Aaron groaned himself when he felt how wet and warm Julie was. He couldn't stop thinking how his cock would feel dipping deep into that juicy hole. But he could lick Julie's pussy for hours. God, he loved pussy, especially this one. It had been a long time for him too, since he'd taken advantage of the opportunity, so he wasn't in any hurry.

He slowly wiggled his finger, rubbing the wall of her pussy, tickling her g-spot and sucking her clit. Julie's pussy was dripping down Aaron's chin, even dribbling down on his neck. His saliva mixed with her juice and it was a glorious, wet garden of pleasure between her thighs, at least to Aaron's thinking. 




Canada-I-O



He was pleased at the effect he was having on Julie, who after a few minutes of that couldn't have held back even if she had tried. It had been literally years since another pair of hands had touched her body, and she thought she might actually pass out from pleasure, briefly wondering if that was possible.

Her back was wriggling, her hands clenching and unclenching the bedspread, her chest heaving, trying to gulp enough air to keep up with her racing heart. Fuck, this was nothing remotely similar to masturbation, which is all she'd been used to for five long years. Even her ex didn't go down on her more than a couple of times, and then it seemed cursory. Aaron had told her how much he wanted to eat her pussy, but she had no idea it could be like this.

"Fuck...Aaron...yes..." Julie's legs began to tingle and her clit began to almost buzz with excitement. "I'm gonna come...oh god...yes!" Aaron intensified his efforts in the same place above her clit, his finger still moving inside her. "Oh shit...Oh...OH!....AARON!" Julie shouted out as she began to quiver and spasm with her orgasm. Aaron didn't stop, but he felt the spasming walls of Julie's vagina tighten around his finger and slowed his activities as he felt her climax subside, but still he kept on, drawing it out longer, until Julie actually reached down to hold the sides of his head, at which Aaron lifted up and said with mock seriousness, "Let go of my ears, I know what I'm doing!" making Julie burst out laughing at the quote from the Simpsons. 

Aaron laughed too and slid up her body to hold her tight. Julie kissed his wet face again and again, even licked his cheeks to taste what he tasted. 

"Mmmmm....oh my god, Aaron...that was incredible!" Julie smiled as her head leaned back against the pillow. Aaron's grin was wide as he answered, "I'm glad, Baby. God that was fantastic. I can't believe how good you taste."

Julie raised her head to look down at Aaron's body. "You still have your pants on, Darlin'...I'm gonna fix that right now." She crawled down to straddle Aaron's legs as he turned onto his back in the middle of the bed and smiled down at her. She paused long enough to reach behind her and unfasten her bra and toss it aside. 

She started to lean forward to unzip his pants when Aaron gasped, "Wait...let me look at you." Julie sat up and smiled at him tenderly. She knew exactly how Aaron felt. They had both waited and suffered a long, long time for this moment. They wanted to savor it, remember it.

Her breasts were perfect, as far as Aaron was concerned. Large and soft, pink nipples and lighter pink areolas, and they looked so womanly, so enticing. He knew he could spend a lifetime playing with and feeling them. God, how many times had he masturbated while envisioning his cock between them, and he'd never even seen them uncovered until now. 

They swayed slightly as she unzipped his pants and pulled them and his boxers down his hips, exposing his hard, thick dick to the air. It bounced a little, then stood up, and Julie's fingers encircled the shaft lovingly, almost gingerly. She looked up at Aaron's face with an expression of delight. "Oh Aaron, it's beautiful. I knew it would be." 

Aaron kept his eyes glued on those big, luscious tits as Julie lowered her face to taste his cock for the first time. She had to force herself to not engulf it immediately, instead taking her time to nuzzle her face into his balls, lifting them with one hand, running her tongue over and around them, relishing Aaron's moans as she continued to fondle them, and licked her way up the bottom of his shaft, then all the way around it.

Her tongue lightly ran across the soft, sensitive head of his member, her breath hot on his skin. She wiggled the tip of her tongue into his little hole, then opened her mouth to encase the whole head inside her soft lips.

"Oh god, Baby...yeah, that's it..." Aaron choked out his encouragement while he watched her slowly bury his cock inside her warm, wet mouth. Julie looked up at him with eyes that were both full of love and raw desire, and it made Aaron harder just to look at her. 

Her mouth managed to sink all the way to the base of his cock with some effort on her part to relax her throat. She held her head there, unable to breathe, and she didn't care. Aaron's pubic hair tickled her lips and nose, but she kept him buried deep inside her, suckling like a newborn baby kitten, her tongue gliding around invisibly, but Aaron vividly felt every motion, every swipe, every suck. 

At length she drew up and held only the tip in her mouth once more. Breathing, she submerged his solid shaft again, holding, sucking, withdrawing, a little faster each time. Aaron's moans were almost constant now, and Julie kept fondling his balls, sensing he was getting close to coming. 

Aaron surprised her when he ordered urgently, "Stop, Baby...stop..." and sat up. His eyes were on fire and his face wore a determined expression as he reached up and flipped her over onto her back. Julie's eyes were wide and eager, watching to see what Aaron wanted to do. He lowered his body on top of hers and almost dove into her breasts. Julie arched her back and smiled. Aaron was a breast man, she'd always known that.

His mouth attacked her nipples, first one then the other, his hands squeezing and lifting handfuls of flesh as his lips sucked, gently bit, and pulled them. "Oh fuck! Ohhhhh..." Julie moaned and gasped as his teeth brushed against her swollen berries. Suddenly Aaron slid his torso up and kissed her hard, drinking deeply from her throat. 

Aaron adjusted his hips and Julie felt the end of his cock begin to press into her. She was still so wet that his entire length slid easily and fully inside her on the first stroke. Aaron's mouth broke away and he dropped his face into her neck. They both moaned. 

Julie found her voice first, but barely. "Baby...oh god, Aaron...I can't believe you're inside me, at last...my god, you feel so good," she whispered between short breaths, her arms tight around his shoulders. She lifted her legs to hug his waist, wanting to feel every single inch of his cock inside her. 

Aaron raised himself onto his elbows and began a slow motion, slower than what he would normally do, because he too wanted to relish this first time, remember every sensation of how it felt to be gripped by Julie's heavenly pussy. 

Finding a rhythm as old as time, their hips began thrusting to meet each other, occasionally grinding then thrusting again, both lost in each others' faces and the exquisiteness of the moment. After several minutes Aaron's pace quickened, and their breathing became even more ragged as perspiration began to mingle on their flushed skin. 

Aaron's jaw clenched and he surprised Julie again by pulling his swollen dick out of her and straddling her stomach with his legs.

"I've wanted to fuck these goddamn tits for I don't know how long. I'm gonna fuck your tits and cover them with cum." Aaron slid his slick cock into the crevice between Julie's breasts and with both hands, he pressed them together hard.

His hips thrust upward toward Julie's chin, and reflexively she watched the head of his cock as it popped out between her tits at the top, and stuck her tongue out to give it a lick when she could. 

"Do you like that, Baby?" Aaron choked out as he fucked her tits hard and fast. "Do you? Do you want my cum all over your tits?" Julie was beside herself with lust as she watched Aaron's cock, and could only nod her head and gasp out, "Yes...yes...please..."

Aaron threw his head back and almost roared as his hips thrust hard and stopped. He grabbed his stiff rod and let the first spurt land all over Julie's neck and chin. The second and third he aimed onto her tits, and finally some smaller shots dropped between her breasts where Aaron had been fucking her.

Aaron hardly paused at all, but instead lowered his legs and sunk his still-hard dick into Julie's waiting pussy. Julie's hands instinctively ran across her breasts, feeling the slickness of Aaron's warm seed, then one hand lowered to her clit, beginning to rub it while Aaron slowly pounded her again with his cock.

"That's it Baby, that's it...rub that little clit while I fuck your cunt..." Aaron's voice urged her on and she kept rubbing her cum-covered tits with one hand while working her clit with her other hand. It didn't take her long to feel that familiar sensation begin and then spread through her body; she exploded, moaning, into another orgasm as Aaron's mouth lowered next to her ear, whispering softly, "Yes, Julie, yes...come for me...that's good...that's it...rub your clit, don't stop..."

Eventually she had to stop, and as her spasms died away, Aaron collapsed next to her on the bed. He kept one arm protectively over her breasts, but both their eyes were closed from the exertion and the sheer pleasure they'd given each other. 

A few minutes passed with both Julie and Aaron trying to recover their breath and strength. As they began to function again, at least mentally, Julie opened her eyes and noticed the sun through the window was low in the sky, sending odd rays of light across the room. 

She rolled to her side and held Aaron close, the cum still sticky on her chin and chest, but they both smiled at the evidentiary reminder of what they'd just done. Aaron's fingers absentmindedly played with Julie's hair as they laid together silently, arms intertwined, until they were breathing almost normally again. 

"How long can you stay?" Aaron asked quietly, at length breaking the silence.

"I fly out in five days," Julie answered, just as quietly. "I was going to improvise some sightseeing if you didn't want to see me."

Aaron was silent for several minutes, lost in thought. 

"I love you, Julie."

"I love you too, Aaron," Julie whispered back. How was she ever going to leave him, now that they'd found each other again across the miles? After they'd shared what they had just shared together?

"Do you remember me telling you once that the only thing I'd ever want to change about you was your last name?" Aaron asked, continuing to run his fingers through Julie's hair.

Julie smiled. That's the sort of thing a woman doesn't forget. "I remember," she replied softly, cuddling closer into Aaron's chest.

"Well, I still feel that way," Aaron's voice cracked a little, and Julie got the impression that he was trying to sound more confident than he felt.

Julie didn't make Aaron wait for her response. "That's all I've ever wanted, too, Aaron. It may not always be smooth sailing, but if we hold on to each other, I think we'll make it. Even if the roof blows off." 

Aaron smiled, choosing to ignore the mixed metaphor. Julie raised her head to look at Aaron, and he took her face in his hands, smiled and kissed her tenderly. "Well then, let's go home. There's a certain dog that's been waiting a long time to meet you."

Julie laughed. "How is Alger? I remember how he used to whine for attention while we were on the phone! I hope he likes me."

Aaron smiled and kissed her again. "Oh, I think he'll love you just like I do. Well...maybe not exactly like I do..." Aaron chuckled and raised his eyebrows. 

They giggled and talked for another half hour before Aaron sat up and said, "I gotta take a leak, Babe," and began walking to the bathroom. Julie was close on his heels by the time he reached the commode, standing behind him with her arms over his as he reached to aim his dick into the bowl. "Let me...please?" Julie grinned, taking his soft penis into her hands and pointing it downward while she peeked around his chest.

Aaron smiled back at her. "Sure, just watch where you aim that thing!" They both knew that was another fantasy of Julie's – holding Aaron's dick while he peed – so he was more than willing to let her have her way.

She felt Aaron relax and then the slight rushing vibration under her fingers as the urine flowed through his dick and out the tip...that beautiful tip that she'd never get enough of. She watched the splash of his pee into the water and giggled again. 

"How am I doing?" Julie asked, smiling, but still watching the splashing in the bowl. 

"Oh, you're doing just great. Only you may want to be careful...you could make me hard again pretty easily," Aaron grinned back, taking over for her as the stream slowed to a trickle and he shook the last drops out of his cock and then flushed. 

"Do you want to take a shower before we go?" Julie turned toward him to ask. Aaron put his arms around her and thought for a second. 

"Yeah, that's a good idea. I didn't exactly clean the tub before I came over," he sheepishly added. Julie laughed. "Good lord, if there was ever anyone who needed help around the house, it's you! I guess we'll have to hire a housekeeper?" 

Aaron grinned as he turned the shower on and felt the water with his fingers. Stepping inside, he held out a hand for Julie and she followed him.

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

Epilogue - Five years later

Aaron and Julie were sitting side by side on the verandah in front of their house on a warm August evening, she with her iced tea, he with a cold beer, and a contented Alger sleeping at their feet.

Julie leaned her head over to rest on Aaron's shoulder and looked up at him. "I hope you had a nice birthday, Darling. Of course, it's not over yet," she teased suggestively, moving her fingers over his thigh toward his resting cock.

Aaron laughed and put his hand over hers. 

"This has been a wonderful birthday, thank you. But give the poor thing another hour, will you? I promise you, Babe, he'll be chasing you around the house again before it's dark out. But you know...wherever I catch you is where I get to have you, so you might want to stay out of the street," Aaron chuckled.

Julie lifted Aaron's hand, softly kissed it and held it against her cheek.

"I remember the plane ride the first time I came out here. I thought I was crazy for chasing off across a continent to Canada when I didn't even know if you wanted to see me. I was so scared you'd kick me off the porch. And then when you came for me at the Inn, we made love..." Julie paused, looking down the street to the place where it all took place.

Aaron smiled. "That was the best birthday present you've ever given me. You brought me yourself. What a week that was, eh? And I think we gave Rose plenty to talk about too. The look on her face when I took you and your suitcase home with me was priceless!"

Julie smiled and rested her head again. Rose had insisted that the wedding reception be held at the Inn, and has always claimed an amount of romantic credit for the two of them getting together and being so in love.

"I'll never stop loving you, Aaron. I'll never stop being grateful we forgave each other and took another chance."

Aaron kissed the top of Julie's head and his fingers unconsciously played with her ring in the familiar way he did sometimes when they held hands. 

"I feel the same way. Maybe at first the timing wasn't right, maybe it was too intense too fast, and we needed to take more time, I don't know. All I know is it was worth the wait. But forgiveness is easy with you," Aaron smiled and lifted his wife's hand to kiss her palm. 

"I love you too, Julie. Forever."



Canadian Adventure



I had been abandoned as a child. Perhaps abandoned is too strong a term. My parents dumped me off on my aunt when I was four years old and took off to see the world. They were never heard from again.

My earliest recollections do not include either of my parents; but only of my sweet aunt who took care of my every need. Lisa was twenty three when she took over responsibility for my upbringing. Some time early in my childhood we started an affectionate greeting. She would pat me on the butt and say "Nice Billy". I would return the pat on her butt and say "Nice Lisa". This had started so early in my childhood that there was absolutely no sexual connotation to the exchange at all. I had always called her Lisa -- never Aunt Lisa. That would have been too formal and there was never anything formal between us. That is not to say that she was not a strict disciplinarian. She insisted that I attend church and Sunday school and was a real task master when it came to school work.

Lisa faithfully attended church and sang in the choir every Sunday. She was always very concerned about appearances and did nothing that might tarnish her reputation. She always lectured me that even one wrong deed could ruin an otherwise spotless record.

Lisa had never married. She was, in my opinion, a very beautiful woman. She was affectionate, always dressed stylishly, and truly cared about people. She had many female friends -- most of whom were real knock-outs. As I became more aware of sexuality when I entered my teens I wondered if her preference might be for other women. 

Occasionally she would go out on dates with men and sometimes bring them home to share her bed. This would drive me wild as I grew older. However; there were never any of these men invited back for an encore. After thinking back on what I had observed I decided that she was probably bi-sexual.

I had been held back in school after the second grade due to an illness and it was probably the best thing that could have happened. From then on I was more mature and bigger than my classmates. I developed a confidence that would stay with me throughout my school years. By the time I reached my junior year in High School I was already eighteen, a little over six feet tall, playing sports and was very popular. I had developed what I thought was a very masculine body and compared to the other guys in the showers I was above average in penis size. I had several girl friends with whom I had joined in heavy petting sessions but I had never experienced sex.

That year there was a World Exposition being held in Montreal. Lisa thought it would be beneficial for me to see it. She asked if I would be willing to make the fifteen hour drive to see it. She explained that we would spend at least ten days traveling in Canada and then find some route back down to Philadelphia. The thought of spending ten days and nights with Lisa alone got me excited. Lisa was the love of my life. She was the object of my fantasies. 

So we began our trip to Montreal in late June of that year. We were in no hurry and stopped frequently that first day to sight-see, to eat and to just enjoy each others company. 

We had reservations for the stay in Montreal, but the rest of the journey was totally unplanned. Our plan was to just find a motel wherever we were when we got tired. That first night we were in a sparsely populated area in upstate New York and had not seen a decent place to stay for miles. 

We came across a suitable motel shortly after dark. It had a small lounge and dining area and looked clean. At the front desk we were told that the only room available had a single king sized bed. Lisa took me aside and said "I don't know about sharing a bed. That just wouldn't be right." I reminded her that we had shared a bed on numerous occasions during my life and felt there was nothing wrong with it. I also pointed out how few motels we had seen during the past few hours. She relented and we checked in.

I was starved so we walked into the lounge area and ordered sandwiches. While eating our food I drank two beers, while Lisa had several Martini's. The liquor relaxed her and we started talking about the sights we had seen during the day and laughing about some of the things that had happened. I really loved being with her, and I knew she enjoyed my company as well. We walked to the room with our arms around each other. Lisa was just a little unsteady, but we made it to the room without incident. 

It was a very pleasant room with the dominant feature being the huge bed. Lisa commented, "I don't know why I was worried about sharing a bed. This thing could sleep a half a dozen people." I could only think about how great it was going to be being in the same bed with my lovely Lisa. Even though I only drank two beers, I was not used to drinking and had a slight buzz on.

I showered and got ready for bed first. Then Lisa went into bathroom and got ready. I normally slept naked and saw no reason to change that habit tonight. I climbed under the sheets of the over sized bed and awaited my beautiful aunt.

Lisa came out of the bathroom wearing a blue sheer nightie that just came down far enough to cover her gorgeous ass and matching panties. For a thirty seven year old woman she was one tight package. She stood about five feet four with legs that were longer than her height would dictate. Her legs were well formed, probably from the cycling that she did frequently. Lisa's breasts were her greatest asset. They were slightly larger than what would be considered ideal and the word perky seemed to be the best description. When she would wear a bikini they would stand out proudly with no sag that was perceptible. What I really loved were her hips. Her hips were very curvy and if they were slightly larger she would be considered voluptuous. Her waist was slim and taut with clear but soft definition to her abdominal muscles.

I had seen her dressed in similar outfits many times before. To her, I was not a sexual being and it was not necessary to be modest when she was around me. Lisa loved me as mother loves a son. She got into bed and after turning off the light said, "Goodnight, Sweetie".

"Goodnight" I responded. 

She had no idea how seeing her in that outfit had sparked the lust in me. After a few minutes I said, "Lisa would you mind if I snuggle next to you?"

"Not at all, honey" she replied, "Scoot on over." She was lying on her right side with her back to me so I quickly moved over and got as close as possible, fitting my body to conform to hers and put my arm around her. I loved the feel of her soft body and gave her a little squeeze. I reached down and patted her firm bottom and said, "Nice Lisa." I left my hand lingering on her delicious butt for a moment and then put it around her waist. She reached behind to pat me on the butt and realized that I was wearing nothing.

"Billy, are you naked?" she asked.

"I've slept naked for years," I explained.

"Well O.K." she said, "I'm just not sure it's right."

She patted me again on my naked butt and said, "Nice Billy." 

Maybe it was my imagination but I thought her hand had lingered for a moment before returning it to her side.

After several minutes we had both adjusted ourselves to be more comfortable and my dick had found its way to her crotch. Nothing was said. Several more minutes passed and my dick started to get aroused. After a few more adjustments my dick was well between her thighs and rubbing against her panties. Again nothing was said. I pushed aside her long dark curly hair and kissed her between her shoulder blades, just above the neckline of her nightie and moved my left hand so that it was brushing against her left breast and began gently stroking it. I couldn't believe how soft it felt and yet firm. As my fingers slid across the nipple I was surprised how hard it felt. God, how I wanted to suck on it.

"Just stay on the outside of the material, honey" she said, "Don't touch the bare skin. That just wouldn't be right."

For several minutes we laid there. I was slowly stroking her breast through the filmy material while I started gradually moving my hips back and forth. My dick was sliding between her silky thighs and rubbing the flimsy material of her panties, which I noticed were becoming damp.

"That feels kind of nice," she said.

I don't know where I found the nerve, but I blurted out with, "Do you want to know what would really feel good?"

"What?" she asked.

"It would really feel good if you were to take off those panties."

The two beers I had must have given me some bravado.

"Oh no, I couldn't do that. That just wouldn't be right."

I did not respond. I just continued stroking her breast and sliding my dick between her thighs. I could detect a change in her breathing and I could feel her panties getting wetter. Her morals were wrestling with her emotions and her emotions were winning. I think the Martini's were on the side of her emotions.

Suddenly she reached down and slid off her panties and returned to the same position. I took advantage of her movement to reach my right arm beneath her neck. I would now have access to both breasts with my right arm.

Sternly, she said, "Make sure that thing doesn't go inside me. That just wouldn't be right."

I was in heaven. My cock was sliding between the very wet lips of her pussy. This was the closest I had ever been to having sex -- and it was with the woman who had been my fantasy for years. The sensation I was feeling was more fantastic than anything I ever imagined. If I had died right then I would have died a happy man.

Her breathing was getting heavier. Occasionally I could detect a small gasp and I knew she was enjoying the stimulation very much. I slowly slid my right hand beneath the thin material of her nightie and fondled her naked breast. I met with no resistance. For the first time her hips began to move. She was responding in sync with my cock sliding through the swollen lips of her pussy. While my right hand kneaded her breasts and gently pinched her nipples, I gradually moved my left hand down across her flat stomach towards her pussy.

I softly teased her sparse pubic hair and proceeded to the top of her slit. When I reached that objective I began exploring with my fingers and discovered the nub of her clit. I had felt a girl's clit before during some heavy petting with a former girl friend, but Lisa's was much larger. It felt like it was the size of a pencil eraser but a little bit longer. I knew that this could be a source of immense pleasure for a woman and started experimenting with different massage techniques. It seemed as long as I kept rubbing it in different ways it kept providing the desired effect. Lisa was emitting little gasps and groans and her hips had begun a slow circular motion that felt exquisite on my cock.

I was being a good boy and made no effort to enter her dripping vagina. I knew that she would eventually invite me in and I was willing to bide my time. As my cock slid back and forth between the swollen lips of her pussy it would catch on the opening to her vagina but I did not succumb to the urge to just shove it in. She had to feel it as my cock would catch momentarily as it passed that opening and it added to the stimulus I was providing as I massaged her breasts and rubbed her clit. 

Without warning Lisa reached down and pushed the head of my cock into her smooth canal. 

"It won't hurt to just put the head in" she said, "but don't go any further. That just wouldn't be right."

I had now reached a new level of heaven. I froze and made sure that I made no movement with my hips at all. I allowed Lisa to be in total control. She moved her hips slowly back and forth so that her pussy would slide over the head of my cock and then back off, never allowing more than the head to enter her precious haven.

I continued caressing her breasts, teasing her nipples, and constantly assaulting her clit. My lips were kissing the back of her neck, her shoulders and as far down her back as I could reach. If there was anything else I could do to assist this full out erotic assault I was unable to think of it. 

My efforts began to pay off. It began subtly. Her legs closed tightly, she curled up and started to moan and shake noticeably. I realized that this was the onset of an orgasm. Instead of shallow movements of her hips she was bucking gently forcing my cock to go in three or four inches at a time. I kept true to my word and made no effort to penetrate further. All of the additional penetration was caused by her movements. As glorious as the feeling I was experiencing was, I wanted this to proceed at a pace dictated by her.

After the throes of her orgasm had passed, I kissed her neck repeatedly and whispered how much I loved her. I continued to fondle her breasts and stroke her abdomen while slowly shoving my cock in and out of her sopping wet pussy. I should have cum by now but I had an objective in mind. I wanted to cum while looking into her eyes.

"Lisa, I want to be able to kiss you while we do this" I stated with as much authority as I could muster. "I am going to get on top of you so that we can do this properly."

"O.K." she responded, "but don't put it in any further than it is right now. That just wouldn't be right."

As we changed position I reached over and turned on the bed lamp. I wanted to see everything that was going to happen.

As I climbed on top I had a desire to explore her body more thoroughly. Instead of just jumping into the saddle I wanted to prolong this experience for as long as possible. I also needed a few minutes to allow my excitement to diminish. I started with a deep kiss. Our tongues intertwined and we enjoyed a long moment with our lips locked together as our passion grew. 

I kissed my way down her neck across both breasts, paying particular attention to each nipple, and slowly worked my way down her stomach to her belly button. For some reason her belly button captivated me. I tongued that crevice and blew into it. She shuddered from the sensation of cold air being blown into it and giggled like a school girl. That action made me realize that really good sex needed to proceed in waves. It is not possible to maintain a sexual high indefinitely. Continually increasing peaks followed by brief respites maximize the total experience. As I continued kissing my way down her lower abdomen she realized my intended destination. 

"Oh honey, don't go there. That just wouldn't be right." She pleaded.

There was no conviction in her voice and I knew it was what she really wanted. I licked my way through her pubic hair and finally reached her slit. When I started licking her outer lips she arched her back and exhaled audibly. I knew I had done the right thing.

I had never tasted a woman's pussy before and did not know what to expect. The taste was not at all unpleasant and I dove into the task of eating her out with enthusiasm. I eagerly licked the outer lips, the inner lips and finally her vaginal opening. I stuck my tongue in as far as it would reach. The taste here was stronger with a bit of tang to it. The texture was different also. The fluid seemed more viscous with a slicker feel. No wonder my dick had felt so good in there. I moved back up to her clit and stroked it with the full length of my tongue. This brought a perceptible shudder so I kept repeating the motion. I tried nibbling lightly on the distended bit of flesh and it brought and even stronger shivering. I then wrapped my lips around the nub and sucked on it. 

Both of her legs clamped on to the sides of my head and squeezed tightly. I lost all sense of hearing but could feel the vibration of her moaning. She pulled me so tight to her pussy that I couldn't breathe. After about twenty seconds I felt her relax a little and I was able to come up for air. I gave her clit a few more licks and then started a slow kissing journey back up her body. I tried to pay as much attention to all of her parts going up as I had paid going down. As I reached her belly button for the second time I stuck my tongue in as far as I could, sealed my lips around it and blew strongly creating a skin fart. This brought on a serious bout of giggles and brought her down from her climax high.

I needed to spend more time with her breasts. I grabbed one in each hand and mauled them both as vigorously as I thought I could without causing discomfort. I rubbed them over my cheeks, batted them with my nose, bit gently on the nipples and then sucked on them like a starving infant. I didn't think I would ever tire of playing with those magnificent globes. I continued my kissing journey pausing at her neck. I bit lightly and sucked on both sides of her neck as she threw her head back encouraging me. I chewed lightly along the line of her jaw and then sucked on the point of her chin. When I reached her lips we engaged in another passionate kiss with our tongues battling fiercely. 

I broke off the kiss; she looked up at me and said, "Thank you. That felt wonderful. No man has ever done that to me before." I assured her that there was more to come. 

Now it was time for the fulfillment of a life time of fantasies. I leaned up and took my cock in my hand. I placed it at the entrance to a lovelier pussy than my dreams had ever conjured. I slowly pushed it in, watching the lips of her love canal as it expanded to accommodate my girth, going only as far as the limit she had set. I pulled back out and repeated entering her. If I never got to repeat this moment at least I would have the memory of watching what I had dreamed of so often.

I lowered myself to my forearms and elbows and kissed her again and began slow rhythmic strokes in and out, never exceeding the depth I had been told to maintain. I studied her face and watched as her expression changed from contentment to eagerness to lust and back to contentment. She bit her lip several times and seemed to be off in a different world. 

I don't know if the eyes are a window to the soul but Lisa's eyes were definitely a window to her emotions. Normally her eyes were a color that fell somewhere between blue and green. When she was angry or under distress the color would shift to a very dark green. When she was happy they would take on a more bluish hue. Right now they were a rich blue and they were somewhat dilated.

Her hips were now rolling and she seemed to be trying to make me reach some particular spot that I was not hitting.

"Honey, go ahead and put it in a little bit further." She pleaded, "But make sure you don't squirt in me. That just wouldn't be right."

I was very happy to comply with this instruction and gradually increased the length of my stroking in and out. Since "a little bit further" is open to interpretation I took this instruction as permission to go as deep as I wanted. I didn't immediately drive all the way in but made longer and longer strokes, withdrawing almost the whole way and then slowly sliding in until our public hair touched. I could feel both of our bodies building to a crescendo and tried to think of a way to prolong the inevitable. I finally succumbed to the fact that we had to consummate this session. There would be future recurrences of this night. I started to pump harder and harder in to her, knowing that she wanted to reach a final climax.

Sweat started to bead up on her upper lip and there was a definite pinkish glow appearing on her neck and face. Her pupils dilated so far that the blue in her eyes were only thin rings. This was why the missionary position is so popular. Other positions may offer more sensory stimulation, but this is the position where you can share the passion in your partners face. Watching her face expressing what she felt allowed me to feel it too.

I realized that this was not just having sex. This was making love. I was much more concerned with how she was enjoying this experience than I was about satisfying my own lust. What had started out as a greedy desire to live out my fantasy had turned into a shared expression of love.




Canadian Adventure



Without warning she reached and grabbed my ass with both hands, threw her legs around me and pulled me in as far as I could go. Our pelvic bones ground against each other and our pubic hair became entangled. She pulled my face down and kissed me with more passion than I thought possible.

"I'm Cumming", she cried "I want you to cum inside me, hurry."

I didn't need to be told twice. I had been right on the edge and it took only a few more strokes until I felt the pressure build to the point of eruption. My cock began to pulsate and I shot load after load into her. All the years of fantasizing about this moment, the uncountable times I had jacked off thinking about how it would feel left me unprepared how it would be in reality. I thought my head was going to explode in ecstasy.

"Oh God" she shrieked, "I can feel your cock spasm as it shoots into me."

Her legs felt like a vise around my waist. Her pussy was contracting around my cock and milking me of all my sperm. Her mouth sucked in my lips and bit aggressively to the point of drawing blood. She tossed her head back and forth so violently that I started to get scared. She gave me one more powerful squeeze, held it for half a minute, and then collapsed back on the pillow. 

She was done. She was spent. I was spent. I could no longer support myself, but I did not want to collapse on her, so I rolled over taking her with me. 

Lisa lay on top of me with a big smile on her face; my gradually shrinking cock was still buried within her silken tunnel. She covered my face with kisses and then laid her head on my shoulder.

"Please tell me this won't be the last time we share this intimacy." She implored.

"It definitely will not be the last time." I assured her, "That just wouldn't be right."

Thus began our Canadian Adventure.



Canadian Affair



Author's note: This is my first story on Lit for a while, and the first inspired and edited by a new muse. I hope you enjoy it. My thanks to InnocentNot for all her assistance. And an anonymous Scots friend. And to my former editor. Without their help this couldn't have been written.

*****

The man gazed through the A310's port window. The familiar landscape of Renfrewshire became obscured by cloud below the sharply-climbing jetliner. The forecast hadn't been good when he'd checked before leaving home for the morning flight to Toronto; strong southwesterly gales for the entire Atlantic crossing. The eastbound flight had landed early at Glasgow, blown across the ocean by the wind. His flight had left on schedule. Atlantic gales were common enough; nothing to worry an experienced crew, or the passengers on the flight. He settled to read his papers as Castle Semple Loch below was obscured by cloud.

A few minutes later his reading was interrupted by an announcement. It came first in French, then in lightly accented English:

-Good morning ladies and gentlemen. This is Captain Marie Lefebvre. On behalf of the crew, welcome aboard Air Transat flight TS225 to Toronto Pearson International Airport. We are still climbing towards cruising altitude, and anticipate some turbulence before reaching it. For your own comfort and safety, please remain seated until the seat belt signs have been switched off. I wish you a pleasant and comfortable flight.

The man sank back in his seat. He was a fortunate traveller; neither turbulence in the air, nor storms at sea, had ever bothered him much. But he caught movement to the right in his peripheral vision. The woman in the aisle seat drew the thick paper bag from the seatback pouch, and placed it on her knee. She noticed his look, blushed slightly: 

-Just in case! Better safe than sorry, eh?

The voice identified her as Canadian. The man stretched his right arm across the empty seat between them:

-Hi, I'm Sandy. I'm sure you won't need the bag. They make these announcements for the benefit of inexperienced kids. You'll be fine.

Her arm moved to reciprocate his gesture, a polite smile slightly creasing her face:

-Fiona. Pleased to meet you Sandy. You're probably right. I've never had to use one of these things yet, but there's always a first time, eh?

-Sounds like you fly regularly Fiona? That's a Scots name. Have you been visiting family?

-Yeah, how did you know?

-Each time I visit Canada, it seems like every second person I meet has family in Scotland, and visits from time to time. So with a Scots name, it wasn't hard to work it out in your case. Probably a third of people I know in Glasgow have relatives in Canada.

-Oh. So you visiting family?

He grinned at the memory of Melinda's nakedness when they'd Skyped last night. Hardly family:

-No, friends.

He settled back to read his paper. The woman's body language said she didn't want to chat, and Sandy was happy with that. He had plenty to read. And to think about. He wasn't quite sure what to expect when he reached his final destination, a couple of hundred miles north of Toronto. He'd travelled oceans and continents to meet women before. But never to meet one whose husband knew - and apparently welcomed the fact - that their visitor was primarily there to fuck his wife. 

He'd chatted and Skyped endlessly with Melinda over months, and been introduced to her husband Bryan online. Despite all his experience, the situation felt a wee bit weird. And then Melinda had suggested he stop over with her mother in Toronto for sightseeing, on his return journey, to save him a hotel bill. So he'd chatted to the mother online as well. She'd been more warm than he thought appropriate, talking to a friend of her daughter. Of course, she didn't know how close a friend she was speaking with. Probably.

The outcome of any journey can be unpredictable, but he'd seldom felt more unsure about an adventure. He sighed: he was on the flight, and whatever was going to happen, would happen. 

The fasten seatbelt signs remained illuminated. Sandy had consumed 'The Herald', 'The Guardian', and was well into the 'Macleans' magazine he'd bought at the airport, so he had some idea what was happening in Canada before he arrived. The standard ping heralded an announcement over the speakers, again in French, then English:

-Ladies and gentlemen, Captain Lefebvre again. I hope you're all coping with a slightly bumpier ride than we would have liked. We're experiencing much stronger headwinds than were forecast, and are about to hit more serious turbulence. We're making good headway, but I'm afraid I have to advise you to remain belted into your seats for the remainder of the flight, and only leave them if you have to. If you must leave your seat, for your own safety and that of other passengers, please hold onto seatbacks as you walk down the aisle. 

Sandy glanced sideways when he heard the gasp. The blood had drained from Fiona's face. He leaned over the intervening seat, patted her arm gently:

-Hey lassie, she's just making sure that Air Transat doesn't get sued if someone stumbles during turbulence. It's a standard company procedure. They're covering themselves against any eventuality. We live in a litigious world. There's nothing to worry about.

Some pink reappeared on the woman's cheeks, and she smiled thinly at him:

-Thanks Sandy. I should've known that, but it's comforting to hear it from you.

The flight did get a bit bumpy, but not enough to prevent cabin crew wheeling trolleys down the aisles to serve lunch. Sandy nibbled; he wasn't that hungry, having eaten a big breakfast at the airport after the lengthy security procedures. He knew Air Transat food. It wasn't the worst he'd had when flying, just standard airline fare. He immersed himself in 'Macleans' again for an hour or two, then dug his novel from the seatback; Alistair MacLeod's 'No Great Mischief'. He wanted to be able to discuss Canadian literature, other than the ubiquitous Atwood, with his hosts and their friends.

A hundred pages into it, his stomach was beginning to feel unsettled, and his ears had popped a couple of times when the plane had lurched downward suddenly. Several passengers, including his neighbour, had involuntarily emptied their lunches into the thick paper bags, and there was a slightly unpleasant odour in the cabin despite the air conditioning. Then the ping from the speakers: 

-Ladies and gentlemen, Captain Lefebvre again. I'm afraid the weather has forced a precautionary change in our flight-plan. We'll be making an unscheduled stop at Halifax, Nova Scotia, to wait out the worst of the storm. This is entirely for your comfort; there are no safety issues, and you have no reason to be in any way concerned. We're beginning our descent in five minutes, so if you need to move from your seats, please do so now. We'll be inside the terminal in under half-an-hour.

Movements in the aisles as passengers scrambled to the toilets. A descent unlike any Sandy had experienced before, the plane writhing and twisting as the storm buffeted it. Then the final uncomfortable lurch and bounce as rubber hit tarmac unevenly. His knuckles whitened on the armrests instinctively. The plane slowed to the end of the runway, taxied to the terminal, and was neatly tucked into the airbridge. A final ping:

-Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to our unscheduled pause at Halifax. Please listen carefully for announcements about the resumption of our journey. We'll have you safely on your way to Toronto as soon as it's comfortable to do so, hopefully within an hour or two. Meantime, relax and enjoy your stay. Our staff, and those of associated companies, will help you to get messages to your destinations. I can't tell you how much later than schedule we will arrive at Pearson, but it's likely to be at least two hours. Air Transat sincerely regrets this disruption to your plans, but the causes are beyond the responsibility of the company. Please take all your cabin baggage with you when you leave the plane, and once in the terminal, keep it with you at all times. Do not leave luggage unattended at any time. Thank you for your patience. 

Sandy remained seated as his fellow travellers scrambled to retrieve luggage. He wondered what this disruption would do to his schedule. The shuttle bus for Gravenhurst and North Bay left Pearson two hours after the intended landing time of his flight. He'd thought that was plenty margin of safety. Now it was beginning to look as though he might miss the connection. Fuck. A night alone in an anonymous airport hotel... and one more night before he'd have his lover in his arms for the first time. He groaned in frustration. 

-Hey, what's up Sandy? Is the delay causing you a problem?

Now that the plane had stopped moving, Fiona's face was flushed pink. A pretty face, he realised. He explained his fear about missing the shuttle, but didn't mention the real cause of his frustration: the fact that his first fuck with his new lover was also delayed.

-North Bay huh? Well, if you must have friends way out on the shield! But look Sandy, my roommate's away just now, so there's a spare bedroom in my apartment. You're welcome to it, if you wouldn't mind sharing with me for a night, instead of a hotel room. I could do with some company, and you've been kind to me on the flight. My apartment's near the main campus of the University of Toronto, pretty near downtown. Lots of good places to eat and drink.

Sandy didn't know what to say. He'd always found Canadians to be welcoming and hospitable, but Fiona's offer surprised him. She was attractive and at least twenty years younger than his sixty-odd years, so he read no sexual innuendo into her offer. It was just human decency, and he was moved: 

-That's very sweet of you, lassie. I'm touched by your kindness. I'm very tempted to accept. But I'll have to phone Melinda and Bryan... and find out whether there's a shuttle bus in the morning. If it's really early, I might be better staying in a hotel at Pearson. I seem to remember it's about an hour's trip from the city centre? I wouldn't want to be waking you at some ungodly hour, and both of us with east-west jetlag. I'll know what I'm doing once I've phoned them. 

Fiona smiled at him, a full welcoming face this time, not the restrained politeness of their first exchange:

-Makes sense. The offer's there if you need to stay over. 

*****

Inside the terminal, there were queues at the information desks and payphones. It appeared that theirs wasn't the only flight delayed by the weather. All was being handled with typical Canadian courtesy, but he was glad he'd invested in a mobile which worked on North American networks. He found a spot with decent reception, judging by the cluster of others on their phones there, and dialled Melinda's number. He'd need to remember to call it a cell, not a mobile. She answered. He explained. She was calm, in charge:

-Assume you're going to miss the shuttle to North Bay at 6.30 tonight, honey. The next is at two tomorrow afternoon. I'll call them right now and change your booking. And don't even think of a hotel! Mom would love to look after you for the night. I'll call her now, and phone you back once I've arranged everything.

A slight click terminated the call. Sandy followed the signs for the bar. He'd barely settled at an empty booth with the Alexander Keith ale the barmaid had recommended, when his phone buzzed in his pocket. Melinda and her mother had him organised. He was given his instructions: phone Vicky once he was inside Terminal Three at Pearson. She'd give him directions to the nearest subway, and meet him there. 

He shrugged. He didn't usually relish taking orders, but felt comfortable about accepting this one. On any long air journey, he always felt a bit disembodied, no longer in control of his life. At the mercy of the airline, and fate. And in this case, now, his lover's contingency planning to cope with the disruption to his journey. He was curious about seeing Vicky before he met his lover. And a wee bit excited. She was around his age, he knew; she'd borne Melinda as a teenager. He'd seen her photos, and his lover had described her 'mom' to him... a former model, then air hostess. A most attractive woman. Hmm...

He re-opened his book and sipped the ale. More than palatable. Some time he would love to explore Nova Scotia and the Maritimes; such close historical connections with Scotland. And decent ale too. The fine novel, by coincidence, was set in Nova Scotia, and he was soon immersed in a web of Scots-Canadian history. So immersed that he barely caught the last call for the resumption of his flight. He was one of the last aboard, and smiled at Fiona as he stuffed rucsac and jacket into the wee space remaining in the rack above their seats.

-Well lassie, thank you for your generous offer tonight, but my friends have organised me...

He explained what had been arranged, and delved back into his novel. He was nearing the end when the captain's voice announced their imminent arrival at Pearson, after a rather smoother flight than their transatlantic experience.

Customs and immigration were courteous and efficient, and he was heading for the crowd waiting at the International Arrivals gate less than half-an-hour after disembarking. But he had indeed missed the North Bay shuttle; it was seven pm.

He stood for a moment once he was just in the concourse, looking for the best place to phone. He wasn't expecting the voice, nor the hand laid gently on his arm:

-Hi, Sandy. You look even better than your photographs!

He started, and turned to the voice. A tallish, fairly slim woman about his age, elegantly if not expensively attired, sparkling blue eyes piercing his:

-Vicky? I... I really wasn't expecting... Melinda said...

-Never mind what my daughter said. I had to welcome you to Canada properly.

Her arms were around his neck before he could take her in fully, her mouth pressed to his. Open, wet, welcoming. His hands moved automatically to her hips, and she pressed her torso against him. After a few seconds, he drew back a few inches, looked deep in her compelling eyes:

-Well. I couldn't have expected a more lovely welcome to your city. And all the more lovely for being unexpected. But I've got myself into the city from Pearson before, Vicky. You really shouldn't...

-Don't be silly! I had nothing better to do. And I didn't know you knew your way around, as my helpful daughter had me thinking this was your first time here. Now, let's go. The Airport Rocket gets us to the subway at Kipling, and it's as quick as a taxi at this time in the evening, and a lot cheaper. Come on.

She was fully as bossy as Melinda - he could see where it came from. Her fingers laced in his, she led him to the bus stop, chattering incessantly, asking him about his flight, how bad it had been that they had to stop at Halifax... he barely squeezed a word in edgewise. As they walked, he took wee glances at her. Fuck, she was gorgeous. Melinda had told him much about her mother, but he hadn't quite expected this elegant, distinguished, and utterly sexy lady. Suddenly she stopped him:

-Uh, I'm sorry, what am I thinking? Melinda said you smoke. You can't have had a cigarette since you left Scotland? There are a couple of places in this terminal you can smoke and have a beer before we head into the city. It's about an hour to Cabbagetown from here. Need a break?

He paused. He hadn't thought to ask Melinda whether her mother smoked, or could tolerate it, as he hadn't expected to meet Vicky for another fortnight. But she had asked:

-Vicky, thank you for being so considerate of my antediluvian addiction. Aye, I'd love a fag.

-So let's find you somewhere you can smoke, my dear. This way. I used to, don't now, but understand your need.

Melinda's account of her mother hadn't led him to expect her to be so in control, but he had no problem with it. She led him to a smoky glass-enclosed room near the bus stop, with a bar right outside it:

-So Mr. Scotsman, can your friend's old mom buy you a beer? 

-Aye lass. On two conditions.

-Conditions? What do you mean, conditions?

-One, you're not my friend's old mom. You're about the same age as I am, and I don't feel old at all. You're a gorgeous woman. Two, I take you out to eat when we get to your place and I dump my gear. You weren't expecting me, you're giving me a bed for the night, you're buying me a beer. So I get to take you out for dinner, and watch all the jealous men envy me having you on my arm. That work OK for you?

Vicky glowed. Melinda had told him of her narcissistic nature:

-Thank you! I could really get to like you. You sure know how to treat a lady. Yeah, that works perfectly for me.

She kissed him again. On the mouth. Pulled back:

-Your choice is Labatt or Molson.

-A bottle of Molson would be lovely. Mamselle.

He entered the fuggy glass enclosure with bottle in one hand, drawing his suitcase with the other. Vicky stood just outside the open door:

-Hey Sandy, take the seat nearest the door so we can talk, will you? I've stopped smoking twice, I can't go in there. 

-Shit woman, why didn't you say? I don't need to smoke that much...

He made to rise from the table.

-You stay right there, Mister Sandy, sir. I'm OK here. Have your smoke.

-Fine then lady. Thank you for indulging me.

-We try to treat visitors right Sandy.

They chatted whilst he rolled and smoked his cigarette and sipped the Molson, easy and light talk laced with flirty undertones. From Vicky at first, but Sandy soon responded in kind, and by the time they found seats on the bus to take them to the subway, Sandy was on the edge of arousal, and wondering where the evening might take them. 

*****

An hour later, after a wee walk from the subway at College, Vicky stopped before a three-story brick terraced house, fishing in her purse for keys:

-Welcome to Cabbagetown, Sir Sandy, and my humble abode. 

It looked to him pretty much like a standard English Victorian terraced house, but with elaborate decorative 'gingerbread' woodwork under the eaves and above the dormer windows protruding from the roof. Vicky pointed up to the latter:

-My bit's up there. There are three apartments in the building.

Her key turned in the lock, and she led him up two flights of stairs. He couldn't help but admire her tight arse preceding his face. Another key for the door at the top, and they were in. 

-The grand tour of my residence, Sandy?

She took his hand. There wasn't much to see. A living room and a bedroom, both smallish, with partially sloping walls determined by the shape of the roof, and delicate plaster cornicing. A small kitchen off the living room, and a tiny shower-room/toilet off the bedroom. Elegantly decorated, a mix of old and newish furniture, obviously created on a fairly tight budget, but with care. Aesthetic taste which matched Sandy's. He liked it, felt comfortably at home. He told her so. She beamed:

-Why thank you, kind sir. My bossy daughter's always trying to get me to move to somewhere more modern and what she calls 'energy-efficient'. But this is my place, I love the neighbourhood, and I wouldn't feel at home in some soulless modern condo development. So I intend to stay put. It does have one disadvantage on the rare occasions when I have visitors staying: there's only one bedroom. There's a perfectly comfortable sofa bed in the living room, which is where you're going tonight, I'm afraid. So just put your case and knapsack over there: that's your fold-out bed. Now - she glanced at the rather worn grandfather clock ticking determinedly in the corner - it's after eight-thirty. We'd better eat. Do you want to wash and change before we go out? 




Canadian Affair



-Just a quick splash and a change of clothes would be good thanks Vicky. This morning was a while ago, and I've been stuffed in a plane seat for several hours too long. Give me fifteen minutes. Where do you want to eat? I'll go with whatever is best for you, and the budget's not an issue. I'd rather like to indulge the lovely woman who's saved me from a solitary night in an airport hotel. So you choose where, and phone to book a table.

-That's rather a dangerous thing to say to me Sandy... that the budget's not an issue...

-Not dangerous at all lassie. Need to pamper you for your kindness.

-Oh my, pamper me indeed? So stop wasting time, go and freshen up. Pampering me takes lots of effort. D'you think I should change for dinner too?

-Mamselle, you're fit to be taken anywhere. I can't imagine that changing could make you look any better. So no, please: remain as you are.

*****

Fifteen minutes later, they were on their way. She'd told him they were booked into her favourite Greek place, a fifteen-minute walk away. The evening was pleasant and Vicky was happy to hoof it. Sandy was glad of the opportunity to stretch legs which had been cramped in economy class for most of the day. Vicky had oohed delightedly when he'd appeared from the shower-room in his kilt. Sandy wasn't sure where the evening was going with this distinctively attractive woman, but as they left her front gate, he extended his arm round her shoulder tentatively. A charge ran through him when she reciprocated with her arm round his waist. Fuck... his lover's mother... but he daren't hope for anything. She was a most flirtatious woman, and it would take a while to read her properly. He was more than happy that she was content to be so close to him.

The restaurant was busy, and they were squeezed side by side on a cushioned bench, facing most of the room. Vicky squeezed his hand as they slid into their places, a slight crease of concern on her brow:

-This place look OK to you Sandy?

He returned the grip on her hand, and continued holding it: 

-It looks and smells perfect Vicky, so stop worrying your pretty self.

He drew breath, twisted his head round, and kissed her forehead:

-It looks better without the frownlines, lassie. I find it hard to believe we're about the same age. You look years younger than me.

Her head tilted up and their lips met. Just a gentle feathering. As they kissed, her free hand settled on his knee:

-Do you know, I don't think I've ever kissed a kilted Scotsman before, Sandy. Can I be greedy and have some more?

His heart soared as she used both of her slender hands to draw his face to hers. A long lingering kiss. Jesus, this woman was intensely sensual. Sandy felt his sporran shift from the pressure beneath it. They were interrupted by a judicious cough; a waiter bearing two menus:

-Good evening madame, sir. Can I get you drinks whilst you look at the menu?

He was young, just a teenager. Unlike most Greek waiters at home, there was no trace of the Aegean in the man's voice. Pure Canadian, as far as Sandy could judge. He waited for Vicky to order:

-Water for me please, please? Zaros. A litre. 

-A half-carafe of house retsina for me please? And a small bottle of Zaros.

-Of course, madame, sir. But... - he peered at Sandy's lap - you're Scottish? Hey, welcome. Your drink orders will be here shortly.

Sandy turned to Vicky, squeezed her knee:

-What a lovely lad. The enthusiasm of youth is so invigorating, isn't it?

Her fingers returned his gesture deliberately, her eyes piercing his:

-The experience and wisdom of maturity can be at least as stimulating, don't you think Sandy?

-I'd like to explore that idea further with you tonight lass.

His fingers slid a few inches up her thigh, over the silkiness of her dress. Her eyes were a wicked glitter now:

-Maybe I'll let you, you evil man. I'm glad your flight was delayed. You've turned an ordinary evening into a special one.

*****

Well over an hour later, the couple wandered hand in hand back to Vicky's place. There was no rush. Both knew the inevitability of what was to come. She turned to him once the apartment door was firmly locked behind them:

-Go open the living room window and smoke your last cigarette of the night Sandy. Come into my bedroom when I call you.

And she swished into her room, closing the door behind her. He rolled his fag, opened the window wide, and looked out over lower buildings opposite, east to the deep gorge of the Don. Scots names were everywhere in Canada. A freight grinding up the gradient by the river broke the city evening hum with its mournful horn. He was strangely at peace in his over-tired condition, his body-clock five hours ahead of the relentless metronome of the grandfather clock. He was glad he wasn't sharing a room with the intrusive chronometer. 

And strangely excited that tonight he would learn the secrets of this intriguing woman's body, knowing that in twenty-four hours he'd be in her daughter's cunt. He'd thought he had experienced every sexual depravity he wanted to explore, but this was completely new ground. 

Not something he'd ever fantasised about, fucking both mother and daughter, until Melinda had told him something of her mother's sexual history, months previously. Sent him photographs of her. And arranged for him to stay with Vicky on his return home to Scotland. And now, he was about to experience the sensuous older woman before he'd even met his lover. The wee blue pill he'd taken with a last sip of water before they left the restaurant was at work. Hard at work... 

Vicky's call broke his reverie. He stubbed out the fag, let the butt roll down the roof to the gutter. Closed the window. Stepped across the living room to her door:

-May I enter now Vicky? 

-Right now, yes.

The door opened silently when he turned the handle.

The bed took up most of the room, wrought-iron head- and foot-boards casting strange shadows in flickering candlelight. She was naked on top of the quilt, slender pale body spreadeagled on her back, ankles secured by silk scarves to the corners of the foot-board. Her cunt glistened in the candlelight, an aroused pink flower between delicately haired pouting labia. One wrist was tied to the far corner of the headboard, and a scarf was attached to the free wrist. A blindfold concealed her eyes. Her body could have been that of a woman twenty years younger than he knew her to be. He was thrilled by the completely submissive presentation of herself; the most arousing piece of theatre he'd seen. He began to undress silently.

-Sandy?

-Yes Vicky?

His voice was different now, she knew from just these two words. She'd been aware of his power before, but until she'd entered her bedroom, it was she who'd been calling the shots. Now she knew she had measured him correctly. This was as it should be between man and woman; his new voice confirmed that. He was the right guy for her, for now.

-Undress, then come here.

He hung his kilt and shirt carefully. Stepped up to the bed, bent over her, now as naked as she was. His tumescence prodded her lips:

-Take my cock in your mouth, Vicky. Serve.

Fuck, his voice. Her soul melted. But she needed one more thing:

-Secure my free wrist to the bed-head. Then I can properly serve you.

She was his now, unable to prevent him doing as he wished. She was leaking from her arousal. Her lips opened as the aromatic glans touched, every remaining sense honed by her lack of sight.

He sighed as her lips closed round him, her skilled tongue teasing and twisting, seeking and finding every jangling nerve end with unerring accuracy. She would make him explode in seconds if he allowed this to continue. That wasn't what he sought. He withdrew from her mouth, watched as she tried to raise her head to follow him. She allowed herself to sink back on the pillow, blonde hair haloing her face. She knew exactly what she was doing. She knew precisely how to get what she needed, to arouse him beyond reason, make an animal of this man. Her voice trembled, the barest rasp in the awed silence of the night:

-Rape me. 

A shiver ran through him. He'd never imagined he would hear these words. Was immobilised for slow seconds, the ticking of the clock in the next room a faint but relentless foundation for his rising lust. He moved silently to the foot of the bed. Knelt and took the big toe of her right foot in his mouth, sucking wetly. Watched her cunt spasm. He had her measure. Knelt between her immobilised legs, his dripping cockhead resting on her clit. Reared back, ready to plunge, to give her what she had asked for...

-Sandy. Wait. There's... there's something you should know about me... before... before you go any further.

-Yes?

She heard the ice in his voice. She should have told him before; hadn't had the courage. But she was now fairly certain, from careful questioning over dinner, that he was going to fuck her daughter. She couldn't do this to Melinda:

-I have... an infection, a virus. Not a dangerous one. But an inconvenient, and sometimes uncomfortable one. And it's incurable.

She felt him rise from the bed.

-Which virus?

His voice could have crushed granite.

-Genital herpes. So sorry. There are workarounds, however. I so want you.

Her voice was barely a whisper. He responded with barely-contained fury, his words clipped and cold:

-Jesusfuck Vicky, you could have told me before we got to this stage. I'm desperate for you after your... your piece of expert sexual theatre. Fucking cockteasing bitch. You planned the whole bloody thing, didn't you? Is this how you get your kicks? Well, here's what's happening. I could leave you tied to the bed. In fact, I could re-tie each fucking knot, so you'd never be able to get out of them. But you're Melinda's mother, and I couldn't do that to her. So...

He moved to the headboard and untied her wrists. Ripped the facemask off her head:

-I'm getting the fuck out of here. I'll find a hotel room and a whore to take care of my needs. After your performance, I can't not fuck some cunt tonight.

His eyes and words frightened the hell out of her. She had a long and varied sexual history, some of it unsavoury. She had suffered sexual and physical abuse at the hands of too many men. But she had never once in her life been as utterly terrified as she was now by this gentle caring man, with whom she'd shared the loveliest evening she'd enjoyed in a long time. She hadn't really thought it through, and regretted her impetuous behaviour. Still, she was so attracted to him, and wanted him to take over... just not like this.

He was releasing her ankles now, attempting to ignore the delicious aroma of her arousal as he bent over her torso. His cock remained rampant, dripping on her cunt as he loosed and released the knots:

-You're free now, slut. Get some fucking clothes on; I've seen and smelled enough of your temptation for tonight. Cover it.

-Sandy, please, listen to me...

He was buttoning his shirt, pulling on briefs and stockings, carefully arranging his kilt:

-Don't you think you've done enough for tonight, bitch? What the fuck is there to listen to? You've had your fucking prank. I've no intention of remaining the victim of your misandry. I'm off to find a hotel. Do you have a taxi number, please?

But despite the gravel in his voice, and the insolent way he spat out 'please', she noted that he hadn't yet moved toward the door. His eyes were still glowing with rage, but they were locked on hers.

-Look Sandy, please listen for a moment? Please? Five minutes, that's all. There are thousands of hotel beds in the city; hear me out, then go find one, and fuck a whore if you need to. But... I really, really hope you don't do that. I want you, are you listening? I want you. In me. And there are safe ways to do it. I...

He watched in amazement as her voice broke, and she dissolved into tears. He didn't understand why she'd behaved as she had, but realised that he'd misjudged what she was about, with him. His anger melted as quickly as it had flared; he sat beside her, his arm round her, cuddled her into him. He knew she'd had a hard life, had sacrificed much of herself for her children. And fuck, he wanted her. He lifted her chin, kissed her weeping face. Everywhere. Licking her tears, kissing her eyes, nose, eyebrows, cheeks, ears, down her surprisingly unwrinkled neck and throat... and her breasts. Fuck, her beautiful tits, medium-sized and surprisingly pert, almost as firm as his lost lover's had been, and she was fifteen years younger than Vicky. His teeth closed round a nipple, none too gently, and she moaned. They were different than Melinda's - Vicky had breastfed at least once, and it showed. He tugged more firmly, teeth sank deeper into the nipple. Her moans rose in pitch, became wails. Her hand took his, and placed it between her legs. Fuck, she was soaking, and getting wetter...

-Hurt me. Sandy. Take me. There are condoms in the drawer, get one on. There are no lesions just now, you're safe with a condom, I promise you. I know you're going to fuck my daughter - she felt his jolt at these words... 

He released her. He undressed as she opened the drawer, extracted a condom, opened and unrolled it on his fiercely throbbing member. Felt in the drawer again, handed him a collar. Then nipple-clamps. All in silence.

His fingers trembled as he fastened the collar round her neck. It was precisely sized, closing with a small latch. Attached the clamps; vicious crocodile-clips whose serrated steel edges bit deep in her flesh. Panting, low wailing.

Fuck, she was perfect. He removed the strap from his sporran, showed it to her. It was part leather, part steel chain. She nodded. He raised the chain section before her eyes. Another nod.

-You sure, Vicky? You're collared. What's your safeword? It's the only thing that'll stop me.

-Melinda.

-Melinda's your safeword?

An emphatic nod. She lay back on the pillow, and the movement stretched her breasts. The wailing rose in pitch as the steel sank deeper into her nipples. Her face glowed. He knew where she was heading.

-Open your legs wide Vicky. You need punished for teasing your master.

His hand went again to her gaping cunt, labia engorged, clit erect. Fuck, just gorgeous. He knelt over her torso, arse to her face, and raised the sporran belt. Leather first...

Her hips jerked as it kissed her cunt harshly. The next stroke was harder, the next more vicious still. Her hips were writhing constantly now, so he could no longer aim accurately. His arm stilled. Not a sound from her except gaspy breathing. 

When she ceased squirming, he used the chain end. One stroke. A long eerily high-pitched scream, hips twisting and jerking. And a long gush of fluid squirted from her cunt. He bent forward and licked the aromatic liquid from her belly and upper thighs. Ejaculate, not urine. She was so beautiful. He lifted himself off her, stood gazing at her face. Eyes open, only the whites showing. Her features a mask of tranquillity. He reached into his rucsac, withdrew the camera. Normally he asked permission before taking a photograph. With Vicky, he knew he didn't need to. 

First shot was of her face. Her eyelids fluttered with the flash, and he really noticed her lashes for the first time. She might dye her hair out of vanity, but the lashes were naturally blonde. Slowly, her irises rolled down into view. Another photograph of her beautiful face as she emerged from wherever she'd been, her eyes smiling deep into his soul. He stood back, got his angle right, took a whole-body shot, bloated red cunt between legs spread wide, nipples distended by the wicked steel clamps.

He put the camera down carefully:

-Your master needs to fuck his slut now, Vicky. Rape you. Till you scream. Lift your arse, bitch.

She did, and he slid two pillows under the tightness of her buttocks. He'd have her arse later. Right now, he needed to plunder that hot swollen cunt. But the clamps had to come off before they did her permanent damage. She screamed as they released her nipples, blood rushing back into tortured veins.

He climbed onto her. She was his to use - she'd made that abundantly clear. He'd seldom in his life felt so aroused. Thrust his hips hard. She screamed as he sank into her remarkable tightness, gripping him almost as close as a virgin's arse. 

And raped her brutally. Except it wasn't rape. She'd asked, no begged for this, and their needs were frenzied, wickedly in synchrony. He wasn't going to last, whispered that to her as his pelvis repeatedly crushed her clit. Her hips were thrusting up to his strokes, seeking release.

-Now. Bitch. Slut. Whore... 

a syllable croaked with every lunge into her depths. He lost it, grunting, pummelling, not caring for Vicky or her needs. Total selfishness. And she responded in kind, a high ululating wail broken by her urgent movements as their loins sought release.  

And found it in each other, fusion of two souls, violent contractions of muscles, internal detonations... till finally they lay quivering together, still welded, pouring sweat, gasping as their mouths sought each other, sustaining fading madness in mutual exchange of oxygen.

She smiled, the agonisingly beautiful face expressing ultimate physical and emotional satiation. Totally at peace. The face of a woman half her age. She made as though to speak, but his mouth closed on hers, imprisoning her thoughts:

-No words, darling.

They dozed together, still fused, till at length blood returned to their brains and he slipped from her. Moved onto his side, one arm round her back, the other feathering her face, soft whispers as he licked the shell of her ear, tracing her features as though to imprint them on his memory.

Her gentle breathing deepened. She was asleep. He lay with her, suffused in wonder at the beautiful, incomprehensible need that they'd shared, the awfulness of what he'd done to her, the profound masochism which drove her to lust for it. For as long as he lived, he'd never be able to understand the whys. He only knew the terrible beauty which could, once in a long while, be experienced with a similarly lost soul. Vicky and he had found and shared what they needed; a contact so rare that few could begin to imagine it. He reached to the foot of the bed, drew a richly imagined quilt over her grace.

*****

And woke to this goddess standing naked above him, studying him, sated, total contentment in her eyes. She nodded towards the bedside cabinet:

-Guessed you might want tea, being a wild Scotsman?

-You guessed right, my princess. Isn't that daft, that a lifelong Scots republican can't find a better word for his treasure of a woman?

Her laughter pealed through the morning, more melodious than the finest ring of bells in a medieval cathedral. She stilled slowly, quivering yet with aftershocks of mirth. Sank on the bed beside him, lifting the quilt away to expose him to her eyes, as she was already naked before his:

-Now Sandy, make love to this old woman, before you have to leave for Pearson, and the bus to take you to my daughter's bed tonight.

Wordlessly, he drew her to him. Whispered love as he licked her ear, laved her face with his tongue, kissed her eyebrows gently, fingers trembling on her erecting nipples, then down to her core as blood was drawn to their genitals, fuelling their rising needs. He rolled her onto her back:

-Condom, slut-lover. Nothing else, just you and me, and clinical protection for your daughter's health. 

She started at this, his first admission that he was going to fuck her Melinda, but relaxed as quickly. It was inevitable, she knew. She rolled the condom on as the thoughts flashed through her mind.

His lithe body folded between her legs. He ached to taste her, but knew he couldn't. Raised her legs over his shoulders. And eased himself into her. Slow gentle loving movements, probing and seeking, moving her body so his rod was pulsing repeatedly against her spot.




Canadian Affair



-Finger your own clit as I pleasure you darling.

And she did, knowing how to tease herself in harmony with his electrifying movements, realising that with his cock at this angle in her, he could arouse her internally but not externally. This way, bringing her to the completion she knew was rapidly approaching, was teamwork, the most skilled teamwork she could remember, slow and steady, completely mutual; the focus, she slowly began to appreciate, solely on her fulfilment. He was but the instrument, hers was the soaring joy of the melody he created. And soar she did, rising, rising, her hips moving upward in synchrony with the increasingly intense need growing within her. Then his movements intensified; her eyes were glazed, open but unseeing, and his were reading every quiver of her irises, every tremor of her sinews, till the tide swept her body, and she cried out, muscles gripping him into her, and their groins were soaked by her release.

Her hips sank slowly back till her firm buttocks pressed their shape into the mattress. Her irises rolled back down into his view; he kissed her nose, then her mouth, and she drifted back into awareness that there was more in the world than her pleasure. Her eyes focused on his:

-Master, nobody has ever... served me in that way. Now, how can I pleasure you?

His laughter surprised her, and she had to curb the resentful suspicion that he was making fun of her... but his eyes and touch reassured her, and she knew he wasn't, and found herself laughing too, for reasons she couldn't begin to fathom.

-Lassie, this is no game, where first it's your turn, then it's mine. You must allow me the wild joy of knowing I've been good for you; just as probably more often than not, you have taken pleasure vicariously when your beautiful body has provided men with ultimate release, and their spunk has filled your cunt? Have you not received pleasure from giving pleasure?

-Sometimes, yes. But infrequently. Most of my sexual experience has been to endure... learn to be used by men. Still, I can find pleasure in being taken. 

-And that's what you sought last night?

Her face was beet red, the colour spreading down her neck, over her shoulders, suffusing the tops of her breasts. He buried his head in the crook of her neck and delicate collar-bones, licking as his fingers found a nipple, teased it back from deflation to firmness. His other hand went straight to her groin, palm down, and she parted her legs to allow his fingers to penetrate her. Felt two long digits curl into her, feeling their way to the right place by touch... and by her eyes. As they widened, he asked:

-And did you enjoy what we did, what I did to you last night, my princess?

-You know I craved the pain, master. So yes. You know better than any man I've been with what my dark needs are.

The clock in the living room struck the hour. Eleven times. He started:

-I'm sorry Vicky, my dear, I didn't realise the time. I'll need to go soon, there are a couple of items of business I can attend to much more readily in the city than in North Bay, before I get out to Pearson for the bus north. But we have two days together on my return journey; more, if I can change my return flight. That's one of the items of business I was considering for today. Would you like me to stay longer than two days, in a fortnight's time?

-Fuck me for you, just for your pleasure, and I'll tell you master. Take me. Use my body. That's what I need from you right now.

-No Vicky. I'm not going to do that, however tempting your offer is. I'm going to shower, if I may; then dress and get into the city to take care of some business. Including changing my return ticket... if you want me to do that?

Her nearly icy composure betrayed her frustration, but she was gracious:

-OK, master Sandy. I know a determined man when I see one. Yes, of course you may shower. And yes, please, change your return ticket. I imagine I could put up with you for as long as a week.

-I have commitments at home, but I can manage a few days. And apart from wanting to learn you as thoroughly as I can, there are a few things I've always wanted to see in Toronto, but never managed. Including visiting the islands. So if you could be my tour guide, as well as my slut, that would be doubly welcome.

-I'm sure I can manage something Sandy. Now off you go and shower. You smell like a brothel, and I can't have my Melinda meeting you like that.



Canadian Beef Jerky



It all started one night when my wife and I of 11 years were fooling around in our bedroom and we were talking dirty to each other. My wife is real cute, 34 years old, at 5'4" with curly brunette hair and a great figure at only 125lbs. She doesn't have large breast and after 3 kids there're kind of a little deflated from breast feeding. Her ass is killer with no cellulite and very shapely, with the perfect bubble butt.

Anyways, we were fooling around talking and I mentioned something like, "You ever think about fooling around with another guy?" 

She jerked her head back a little and said, "What? What do you mean, like fuck someone else or something?" 

I was now back pedaling since she seemed to be annoyed with the thought. It might break the mood and push into an argument so I quickly kissed her again and said as I was kissing her, "Nothing, it was nothing."

She started to kiss me again, then stopped and said, "What would make you think of something like that? I'm happy with you and don't need or want to fuck anyone else."

I then said, "I didn't mean fuck anyone!"

"Then what did you mean by fooling around?" she questioned.

"It really wasn't anything. I just wanted to talk dirty and the thought of you possibly giving someone else a blowjob really turns me on. Not that I really want you to do it, but just to have you talk dirty like that is hot!" I explained.

She then gave me a kiss and said, "Well you don't have to even think about it because it will never happen, and I don't even like thinking about cheating on you!"

"Cheating?" I said, "It wouldn't be cheating, I give you permission to blow anyone you want right now and forever you just have to tell me all the details, but you can't fuck them!"

She then says with a chuckle in her voice, "Oh come on, you would be so jealous, and by the way I don't want to it anyways and that's final!"

So that was the end of it and we did fuck that night, but I it was a little forced because she wasn't as aroused after our little conversation.

Here is a little information about my wife that may help you understand this story. She and I have been together from just after high-school. She went to college and I told her to do whatever she wanted with other guys, since I had already had other girlfriends before her and experimented sexually. She wasn't into that as I've been the only guy she has ever been with and she is very inhibited. Up until the last few years she has loosened up in the bedroom trying a few new things and mild role playing. 

On the other hand, I love sex and I am a major closeted pervert. I love looking at porn, and wishing that my wife is the one performing. I search endlessly online just for pictures of curly brunettes blowing guys hoping to find one of a girl that looks just like my wife. I have found a few, but there always seems to be something that breaks my fantasy such as a tattoo, or they don't have the shapely hips and ass.

Anyways a few days after our first little talk that irritated my wife, she told me that she was going to Canada with a couple of her girlfriends shopping , as we live in upstate NY close to the border. The prices are real good and you can find decent deals so I told her to have fun, and not to break our bank account. She kissed me goodbye and said that she would be back later that night and have the kids take showers as they would most likely be in bed when she got home.

So I went through the day working outside, and clearing up the lawn. The kids took showers and I later put them to bed. It was around 9pm, and I was lying in my bed looking at porn on the laptop waiting for my wife to come home. 

I then heard the door unlock and I quickly deleted all the browsing activities I had been browsing, since my wife doesn't like that I look at porn.

She came in the bedroom, and I was horny from looking at porn and hoping she would want to fool around, but she wasn't in the mood, and started to put away all the items she bought in Canada. I was trying to talk to her but she was preoccupied with putting all the stuff away so I managed to grab a quick kiss from her and she jumped away saying "I'm tired, real tired!"

I had a funny taste from her lips and smell on her breath and I ask her what she ate. 

She just rolled her eyes and said, "Canadian Beef Jerky!"

I said, "Wow, that stuff is salty I could smell it and taste it on your lips."

She looked up and said quietly, "Yeah, real salty." 

Then she went to the bathroom and brushed her teeth and took a quick shower and put on her pajama shorts and tank top. She came back into the bedroom and turned on the TV to watch "House Hunters." I thought I could try again to get a little action, but she just said, "If you really have to go, just go as quickly as possible." 

She just laid there watching TV as I proceeded to J/O next to her thinking about the porn I was looking at earlier. It didn't take long for me to cum, and she looked at me and said, "Thank you, I love you, I'm just worn out tonight from my trip, I'll make it up to you, I promise."

About a week later, we were in the bedroom again and I was trying to get her to talk dirty. This time she was a little more in the mood and I could tell I could get her talking a little more this time just from the tone in her voice. I put my hand on her ass, but I could feel a pad, and thought, "Oh Shit, that time of the month!"

She giggled and said, "I'm sorry Honey!"

I said, "Not funny, and you owe me one from last week, and since you got me all hot and horny!"

Reluctantly she said, "Well, you're right, what do you want?"

"How about a good Blowjob?" I said quickly.

"How about NOT!" she said even quicker. "But I will tell you a story if you want, and I think you will like it." She said, knowing it would get her out of giving me a BJ.

I said, "Alright, but it better be a good one!"

She had a devilish smile and said, "Oh, I think I have a good one that you will really like."

So she started the story by saying, "Remember, this is just a story! Not real, OK?"

"Yeah, yeah just start!" I said quickly not to kill my mood.

"Well, remember about a month ago when I went to Canada?" she said.

I said, "Yeah, closer to two weeks ago, but who's counting!"

She said, "Well this is a story about what happened on the trip. The girls picked me up here and we were on our way to Canada, but let's say I forgot my birth certificate to get back into the United States."

I kind of had an idea what type of story this was going to be and I started to get a hard on.

She continued, "Well, anyways the girls and I did our shopping and we were on our way back to the border to go through Customs with all of our purchases to make sure that we didn't have anything that wasn't suppose to cross the border. The border officers asked us for our passports or birth certificates, which the two other girls whipped out, but I didn't have mine. 

The officers asked us to drive over to the interrogation station to go through some questioning as they explained this was procedure since 9-11 for anyone that doesn't have the correct crossing papers."

"I told them that I was a U.S citizen, I just forgot my birth certificate." as she looked me over to see if I was getting harder. 

She paused for a moment, and then continued, "Well, they didn't like that I didn't have any proof of citizenship and asked me to go into this separate room with three of the other officers. I was led into a room, which had four security cameras in each corner and was told to sit down on a little bench located in the middle of the room. 

I tried to plead with the officers once again. Then one of officers said that he believed me, but he also said what would I be willing to do to prove my patriotism to the U.S. "

Hearing my wife say these word started to send me over the edge and I was certainly getting hard now.

My wife looked into my eyes went on with the story, "I asked them what I needed to do to prove my patriotism, and then the officer started to pull on his crotch. I just nodded as we both understood what he meant. He walked over and stood directly in front of me and said, salute the flag! I then reached out and unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock and started to stoke it. It was so big, warm and heavy in my small hand as the two other officers secured the door, and then walked over next to me waiting for me to prove my patriotism to them as well. I then started to put the tip of the cock into my mouth and could taste the salty sweat....Owweeee."

That was all I needed to hear, as I blew a huge load all over my belly, and some even hit my wife in the leg as I was pumping frantically with the images of the story she was telling me.

"Wow that was a big one, honey! You do know this was just a story, right?" She exclaimed.

"Yeah, yeah, it was great, too bad it wasn't true. That would be so hot to hear all the details." I said panting.

My wife just rolled over and said, "Goodnight freak, I love you!"

About a week later I was cruising the internet searching for anything that looked like my wife as usual and I came across this website called "Security Camera XXX." I thought of my wives story and kind of chuckled thinking I should take a look to see if there were any girls that resembled my wife blowing security guards to put a visual with my wife's words that echoed in my mind. 

I looked at about 20 or 30 video clips, most of them were stupid, with very poor video that looked like it was shot in the early 80's.

I was about to quit when I saw a tab that read, "Newest Clips This Week!" I thought, what the hell, might as well take a quick look.

I was into the third clip which was tagged "Brunette MILF Sucks for Freedom" I thought, "Wow that sounds perfect!"

I clicked on the link and popped up a window that said, "All the videos in this section are completely real, there are no actors, and enter at your own risk if local laws prohibit such viewings in your locality. Click OK to view."

I went this far, so I wasn't going to have a little pop up window dissuade me now from viewing this video. 

I was getting hard just hoping the girl in the video looked like my wife. I clicked "OK" and the video window started to load. It seemed like an hour but it probably was only like a 30 seconds to load the 10 minute video. 

Then it started. The video quality was quite good, maybe that is why it took so long to load, I thought in the back of my head.

Peering at my screen, I could see an empty small room with a wooden bench in the middle, and could actually hear audio. It was like dead air, but I could hear faint sounds of someone arguing in the background until it became louder as the door in the picture opened and a guard walked in. I was getting so excited; this looked exactly as my wife described her fictional story.

Then between the guard and the door was a female with curly brown hair about shoulder length (perfect this was just like my wife's hair), and then two other guards. "Wow!" I said out loud as this is exactly as my wife told her story. I pulled out my cock and started to stroke it, but I didn't want to go to fast, as this was a 10 minute clip.

I couldn't see the girls face, just the back of her head and her body was perfect, nothing blowing the fantasy yet as I kept my eyes glued to the screen. I could hear them discussing something but it was muffled, until I clearly heard the words spoken one of the guards, "Salute the flag!" 

I was now panicked, as I started to realize that this could actually be my wife. I couldn't tell if I was having a heart attack or one of the hardest hard-on's I have ever had. I watched the video intently as I saw the girl unzip the guards' pants and pull out a huge cock. She moved slowly at first then suddenly engulfed the cock in her mouth sucking like a pro. It was like she had made a decision to make this guy cum as quickly as possible and get it over with kind of like she does with me sometimes.

She did all that, as I can see in the video clip, the guard shooting a huge load into the girls mouth. That's when she turned for the first time facing the camera and swallowed as she grabbed the other guards cock and frantically started sucking and licking to make him also cum as quickly as possible. This girl certainly looked like my wife but I wasn't 100% certain yet. 

She finished off the second within three minutes and then turned again and grabbed the last cock in the room that still had cum in it. I was in a daze supposedly watching my wife service three guys from start to finish and swallowing load after load.

I wanted to make sure that it was my wife, so I keep rewinding the clip over and over and finally I knew it was indeed my wife as I could make out her watch that I bought her for her birthday three years ago. I could see it clearly when I paused the video right when she was moving and grabbing for the second cock. 

I was it total shock, and totally aroused to a point that I never have been. I started thinking to myself, "what else has she done that she hasn't told me?"

I listened carefully to the audio at the very end of the clip as the guard, who was certainly a border officer, said "Now next time you come to Canada you might want to bring your Birth Certificate!"

The second guard muttered in, "I don't think she will; I think she liked all the cock!"

She just stood up just like nothing had happened and didn't even wipe her mouth or face from all that sucking and walked out of the secured room. They told her she was free to go back to the United States now as she walked past them. This is where the clip ended.

I thought about the evening that she came home after her Canadian shopping trip, and how aloof she acted. Then I remembered kissing her and having that taste and smell on her lips and breath. That was cock breath, and I bet she still had cum on her lips, as we only live 30 minutes from the border.

Wow, it really happened! Should I tell her she's on the internet? Should I confront her about it? Should I be pissed? I had a million questions running though my mind. I did tell her she had permission to suck all the cock she wanted, just not to fuck anyone. She even kept her side of the deal by trying to tell me the details, but I came too fast the other night.

I guess in the mean time, I will definitely try and get her to tell me more stories about her Canadian trip and see how she really felt about sucking herself to freedom. I certainly will have to restrain myself this time so I can get through the whole story this time.

May be continued...