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Jack and May

By: G-String



I rush into the bathroom without thinking. I've been dying for a pee over the last hour on my way home. A warm, sweet and sensual mist greets me. I look up and my heart almost leaps out of my mouth! For there is May, my sister, taking a shower! A lump rises in my throat at my first glimpse of her tight nubile body and I can feel a bigger lump coming up in my pants.

"AHH!" She screams. Her open-palms shoot out waving about, uncertain whether to hide her face or to shield her pint-sized body.

"Sor... Sorry, I'm sorry." I realise that I'm still ogling all over her nakedness. Hurriedly, I offer my apology and retreat from the bathroom.

I never thought I would see May in the flesh, not in my lifetime and definitely not after that day when she glared at me with pure hatred in her eyes.

Looking back, it was just after Sylvie and I got married. May, then a bubbly 17-year-old kid, freshly out of school, visited us at our tiny flat on Hong Kong Island one day for a reason that I no longer recall. She was leaning over our dining table and was reading a magazine, Marie Claire I think.

She was wearing a loose green top and suddenly, I found myself peeking down her blouse. I was mesmerized by the puffiness of her small white breasts, clad in a beige coloured bra; and I felt blood surging to my groin. She looked up at that juncture and caught me red handed. She peered quizzically in my eyes, glanced down her chest and her eyes shot up again, her expression furious.

I didn't know what to say to her as I was so embarrassed and I tried to play it light by pulling an innocent grin. Her right hand at once came up to close the gap round her collar and she stared at me with cold hatred in her eyes.

Although it's been so many years since that episode, she never speaks to me again, not directly anyway. What a pity! May is the prettiest among the three siblings. If I weren't engaged to Sylvie by the time I met her, I most certainly would chase after May. Nowadays, she chooses either to ignore me or finds ways to antagonise me whenever we meet. In another word, she has become a right nuisance. I'm pleased with this sudden turn of luck. Serves her right, Bitch!

Following the initial surprise, a dire urge for a pee returns but that bitch is still inside the bathroom, the only one in my flat. I stand, knees pressed together, waiting desperately in my bedroom. After five more minutes, I can wait no longer. I staggered the few agonising steps to the bathroom and knock on the door. There is no answer. I knock again, still no answer. Perhaps she has gone to the spare bedroom?  I ease open the door.

May is sitting on the edge in front of the bathtub, a white towel wraps round her fragile body. She's been weeping but she stands and turns her head away the moment I open the door.

"Are you satisfied now? Haven't you seen enough..." she yells at me and uses the back of her hand to swipe tears that are rolling down her cheeks, "What more do you want?"

"I'm sorry! That was an accident. I... The lock is broke..."

"I don't believe you. You must have known that I was here. Sylvie would have told you!" She chokes at her own tears. 

"She didn't. I..."

"I don't believe you. And now you are going to make a mockery of me..." again her word is lost through crying, "just like that day you looked down my blouse..."

Oh, Damn! Not that again, that bitch has a talent for making people feel guilty. And right now I'm feeling like shit!

"No, May I would never do such a thing. I am sorry about what happened the other day. I... I just couldn't help myself looking..." I am shocked to hear what I have just said.

"I saw that smirk in your face; you despised me, belittled my... " May has stopped crying, but there is anger and hurt in her voice, sniffling as she tries in vain to continue.

"May, but you are wrong. I was just too embarrassed and felt guilty for doing that... looking subconsciously. The truth is... I was attracted to you the first time I saw you." 

"I don't believe you." May says without conviction, surprised at what she has just heard.

"May, please forgive me. I have wanted to say this all these years. Please, let's be friends again. I promise that I will never tell a soul about what happened today."

I look at her, hat in hands begging her forgiveness. All of a sudden, we are searching into each other's eyes. She has stopped sniffling and the dead silence is becoming unbearable. Then her face turns a shade red and she dips her eyes demurely. My God, she's so sweet and so pretty when she is not acting bitchy! My heart is pounding wildly all of a sudden.

"May, please forgive me."

She giggles suddenly.

"What?" I ask, still don't realise what is happening.

Gingerly, she points her fingers. I look down to see a big tent erected in front of my pants. I feel heat spreading on my cheeks. I want to apologise again. Shit, she catches me a second time. I remember that time I peeked down her blouse I had an instant erection and she killed it with that look of hatred. But she is giggling! 

"May!" There is a sudden dryness in my throat and my voice crackles.

She looks up coyly.

When our lips are just inches apart May closes her eyes and tilt her head up expectantly. Our first kiss is simply electrifying. There is warmth and softness on her lips that I have never known. My heart is now thumping so hard that it aches. I pull away, looking down at her, mesmerised by her beauty. When I kiss her again, I feel her responding. Oh God, what shall I do? But before I can think straight, I have May cuddled in a tight embrace, my hands wondering down her back, gently squeezing her cute little butt over the towel, something that I wanted to do every time I saw her in a pair of body-clinging denim jeans. 

Very soon, I slip my tongue pass her lips, savouring her sweetness. We kiss passionately, just like that for ages. My mind is racing; we must have been torturing each other for years, hoping against hopes for just this moment. Finally, we have to break the seal of our lips, as we have both become breathless.

We stand, looking into each other, panting, excited, scared!

"May!"

I mumble expectantly. My hands reaching for her towel, at the knot tied just above her small breasts but she beats me to it and grabs it tightly in both hands.

"May..." I beg her with my eyes.

Slowly, I take her hands away, lowering them by her sides. When I raise my hands to the knot again, they are shaking.

"May?" I feel silly asking but I'm so afraid of upsetting her. She looks away shyly.

Gingerly, I untie the knot and let the towel drop. May catches it behind her when it falls round her butt.

Heavenly! May has the cutest body, standing at mere 4'11". Her breasts are so petite I wonder if they can properly fill an A-cup bra. Yet they are so perky and in perfect proportion to the rest of her tiny body. Her twin-peaks are capped with small areolas, in the shade of two brightly blossoming Chinese plum flowers. And her nipples harden under my wanton gaze! 

Her skin is blemish less and is almost translucent with a healthy glow of pink showing underneath. A neat patch of pubic fluffs is decorating at the centre of her feminine hips, at the apex of a pair of slim though incredibly toned legs. She must have shaved her legs, as those fine hairs I noticed before are gone. Her feet are high-arched and her toes neat and immaculately manicured.  I feel dizzy just ogling at her beauties. She has the body of a budding 12/13-year-old schoolgirl. You would never guess that she is 36 already! She is simply one perfect woman, coming in an extra small package.

I am so in awe by her charm. When I look at her face again, I find her blushing fiercely. Suddenly, I'm possessed by a beastly desire. I sweep her off her feet and carry her, towel-wrapped again, into my bedroom. With one arm cradling her feather light body, I throw the quilt cover onto the carpet and gently lower her on the bed. Her towel soon joins the quilt.

Completely stitch less May shields her tiny breasts and her pubes with a pair of small hands. Blushing, she doesn't know where to look. But damn, I need a pee!

"Don't go away!" I order her; no I beg her.

When I come back, May is still naked in bed with her three strategic spots demurely covered. I can wait no more and peel off my clothes. And in seconds, I join May in our little Garden of Eden. If May has had doubts on how I felt about her, with just one look at my boner, her doubts would vanish completely. I simply cannot remember having a bigger erection in my life! And she is staring at it with a mixture of awe and fascination.

I have to wrestle with May to keep her hands from hiding her treasures. Though blushing crimson, she giggles. Oh God, she makes me crazy! I kiss her again and when my hands mould themselves onto her perky breasts for the first time, I am surprise at how springy they feel. There is nothing I see or touch in May that betrays her age. Must be the regular Yoga classes, or is it Tai Chi that she's been practising. God, how I had longed for her! 

"May, you know, I fell in love with you the first time I saw you." and that is the absolute truth.

She smiles coyly and says, "Me too Jack, but you..."

"May, I want to make love to you."

Apprehension flashes across her eyes and she begins shaking her head, "No, we can't."

What does she mean by no? I simply must have her! This time, I really have to hold her arms down. Wrestling with her, I kiss first on her budding right breast, then the left.

"HHO!" she gasps and keeps twisting her arms in my grip.

I repeat my kisses on her perky vibrant breasts and feel her pink nipples hardening between my lips.

"Mmm... oh don't, Jack!"

As I kiss and nibble her bullet-hard nipples, I sense her strength weakening as she keeps moaning softly. Still grasping her wrists and holding them by her sides, I snake my kisses to her taut belly. Suddenly, her torso jerks violently and she squeals in wild laughter. Caught you, you ticklish little devil!

"Stop, Jack. Oh, please stop... hahahaha..."

Relenting on her, I release her arms, but slither the tip of my tongue through her pubic thatch, twirling lightly around the edge of the delicate folds of her inner love-lips that are flushed red and sprouting like two tiny orchid petals.

"Ohh! Mmm..." May shudders and moans.

Instantly, I become intoxicated with a bouquet permeating off her love hole. And she tastes so sensually sweet! I try nudging the tip of my tongue at that little nub at the crest of her pussy. 

"AAAHH!" 

All of a sudden, May convulses in ecstasy. As I keep lapping like a puppy, her slim thighs presses painfully against my ears, shutting out her cries of indignant pleasure. And she keeps coming, rocking her pelvis at me, her pussy twitching and oozing nectar, drenching my face. When she eventually releases her vice-like thighs, I steal a glance up at her. She is still shivering weakly and is biting on the knuckles of her right fist, trying to muffle her sound.

I let go of her throbbing pussy and kiss my way slowly down the inside of her creamy white thigh, all way to her sexy feet. Her high arched feet are the most elegant I have ever seen. Her soles are so supple and are devoid of hard skin, must have something to do with her wearing trainers practically all year round instead of heels. I kiss and suckle on each of her slim white toes, savouring her sweet body.

"Mmm... don't Jack.. OH! Oh, Jack!" May keeps sighing and writhing about on bed as a second though milder wave of ecstasy catches her.

I look up at her crimson cheeks; I can wait no more. Deftly, I crawl my way on top of her. But she freezes the moment I try to pull her legs apart.

"No Jack. Please, don't..." there is real fright in her eyes as she protests, "we mustn't."

"I love you May!"

As I say to distract her, I wedge a knee between hers then press the other one in. May tries to squeeze her thighs together but I weigh my body on top of her, pushing her legs further apart. I know that I'm gaining ground but I really don't want to force it.

"May, let me... please!"

Perhaps she realises that I've already gained strategic grounds. Perhaps she realises that we have both reached the point of no return. Perhaps...

With my right hand, I spread her knee a little further apart. May resists at first, hesitates but finally relents. I slide my body forward and try rubbing my pre-cum dripping cock along her private entrance. Her slim fingers grab me suddenly and her sharp nails make me jump. But just as quickly she releases her grip; her hand is icy cold! May is shaking with fear! God, what have I done?

"May..." I'm getting desperate. I must take her now or I'm going to burst open.

"Jack, please be gentle," she turns her head away shyly and tries to continue, "I never..." but her timid voice trails off. 

I can't believe what I just heard, but secretly I'm so pleased. 

Gently, I hook my hands behind the bends of her delicate knees, raise and spread them open either side of me. May gasps as her sex is suddenly so exposed and defenceless right in front of me! Cautiously, I slither my cock knob along her weeping pussy lips. Are they begging for mercy? Oh God, I am going mad!

When I nudge my knob between her fiery red inner lips, May turns her head aside and uses the back of her hands to hide her beetroot cheeks. Embarrassed, or is that her denial of our illicit love?

I press my lower back closer and see my cock knob beginning to disappear into May's virgin pussy folds, instantly sensing her tight grip below. As I press a little further in, May tenses. There is a sudden constriction at the entrance of her love tunnel, shutting out my access.

"May, I love you, please give it to me!"

Timidly, she presses the back of her hands over her face, refusing to meet me in the eyes but loosen herself below slightly. I take the opportunity and push my lower back ever so gently against her slippery pussy. 

"Uh... ah" she sighs and her right hand shoots between our pelvis, trying to push me away.

Immediately, I feel tightness all around me, like strands of rubber bands slipping snugly over my cock knob and gripping, almost painfully, just behind the helmet head. May is shivering under me and I feel like I can almost share that pain she must be going through. Perhaps I should have let her rest for a while, but her virgin pussy draws me in like a magnet.

"Uh... sss... uah..." she flinches, gritting her teeth, panting deeply while my steel rod continues to pierce into her.

In just seconds, amidst her muffled sighing and her futile contraction, my cock is sunken hilt-deep into her hot and pulsating pussy. May grips me so tightly down there I can hardly breathe.

I look down at May, my sister, my first and only virgin, my darling lover. Her left palm is covering her mouth, muting her gasps of pain. Her jaw is quivering, just like her whinging pussy folds; her breaths are laboured and tiny teardrops appear at the corners of her tightly screwed eyelids. But all I feel is a strange sense of elation.

I support my upper torso with my arms, resting my cock deep inside her, enjoying her warm welcome, letting her get accustomed to me, to us together.

Gradually, her breathings become more even. I withdraw myself, slipping halfway out of that warm glove of hers. She winces but splay her thighs further apart, preparing herself for my next move. And she looks so fragile yet so incredibly seductive under me. Gently, I begin sheaving my cock back into that hot body of hers. But she is already tensing herself and she gasps as our pubes meet for a second time.

"Uh!" she shudders.

"May, I love you! I can eat you all up."

She gives an almost imperceptible nod and smiles through tightly pressed lips. And that makes my cock jerk all of a sudden.

How could I have resisted her for so long, for so many years? I plant a passionate kiss on her, my tongue slipping into her sweet mouth just like my cock squeezing into her tight pussy and I begin my labour of love, on top of her, through her, deep inside her... Every time I withdraw, May breathes in relief. And when I thrust into her slippery pussy, her hot and sensual exhalation fuels my passion to limits.

Not long, I lose all my self-control as I begin pounding into her cruelly and savagely. How my little May could take that abuse, I have no idea. She just keeps whimpering under me. 

"Mmm... mmm... mmm..."

Her desirous howling and the cracking of bedsprings are making me delirious. Her tight and slippery pussy folds are giving me so much pleasure there is a tingling sensation on my engorged helmet. My balls feel like they are going to burst at any moment. I look down at my darling lover. Through her half-closed and fluttering eyelids, I see her eyeballs are rolled back; as if she is going to faint and her jaw is quivering tensely just like her firm perky breasts that are jiggling to the rhythm of my onslaught. I suddenly realise that she's been rocking her pelvis against me, meeting my thrusts one for one.

"Oh..." her moaning takes on a new intensity.

I'm simply going mad! I crane my neck and suck a whole petite breast into my mouth as I begin nibbling a hard nipple, biting lightly at it while my fingertips start kneading at her other one.

"HHO! Hmm... Mmm..."

There is a sudden rhythmic tightening deep inside her pussy. The sensation on my knob is so exquisite I know that I can't hold back much longer. I double my effort, rocking rapidly through her for dozens more times, until...

"May, oh May, I'm going to cum!"

I try to extract myself at a last moment but she drapes her slim legs behind my thighs as her hands suddenly press down on my butt, pushing me deeper into her. That is just too much. An electric shock runs through my balls as I erupt deep inside her.

May flusters her eyelids open momentarily. A mysteriously glaze flashes from her eyes as she begins to convulse violently.

"OHH! HHO!..." she screams.

We embrace tightly as an earthquake rocks all around us.

We were so exhausted yet we cuddle each other in bliss, in the afterglow of our mutual orgasm. My semi-hard cock is still snugly sheaved in her hot pussy.

"May, you are mine. You are all mine now." I smile contentedly and lovingly down at my darling lover. 

"Oh, Jack, don't leave me. Please don't leave me." There is desperateness in her voice, her eyes suddenly mist up. 

"I can never do that. You are my responsibility now. I love you very much, May!"

She smiles timidly under me.

"Oh Jack. I don't know how to say it. But I don't want you make love to Sylvie ever again," she looks sheepishly at me and continues, "I would feel so jealous. Promise me please, that at least you won't initiate it..."

"Yes, I promise." I reply solemnly.

Right now I am prepared to leave everything behind me, to spend the rest of my life with May. She smiles contentedly and reaches up to kiss me on the cheek. But suddenly she stares angrily at me.

"But there is one thing, Jack."

"Yes?" I reply shakily as I'm already afraid of upsetting her.

"Stop calling me a 4-foot-11 bitch. I'm 5 foot tall, you know!" She stares at me sternly.

"I... it was... I won't do it again. I promise." I'm furious at Sylvie's betrayal.

Her face cracks with a mischievous grin. She grabs my hands and put them on her perky breasts then hooks her arms behind my neck and plants a passionate kiss on my lips, taking my breath away completely. I can feel my cock stiffening inside her!

All of a sudden, we hear the jingling of keys then the front gate bangs loudly.

"Jack, I'm home." Sylvie yells just behind the bedroom door.

May and I freeze, shock and fears flash across our eyes. We think that surely we are dead meat. My cock withers and slips out from May's warm pussy. My first reaction is to hold and protect May from her bitchy sister. Then we hear the banging of the toilet door.


Jack and May



May pushes me away and shoots out of bed. With her right hand, she grabs her towel and turns to leave. However, her spare hand suddenly cups under her crotch, no doubt catching my cum that is seeping from her wounded pussy. I fetch her a couple of paper tissues from the bed-stand and she quickly slips them between her legs.

Quietly, I open the bedroom door as May tiptoes the three steps across to the spare bedroom. I can hear Sylvie peeing in the toilet just three steps away in the other direction. May opens the door to the spare room and just as she is about to disappear inside, she turns back, kisses me full on the lips once more and tiptoes stealthily into the spare room, clicking the door shut.

I hurry back to my bedroom. Immediately, I notice two things. There is a crimson patch on the bed linen, from May's defloration; and there is a strong aroma permeating in the bedroom, from our passionate sex. Then, I hear the sound of toilet flushing. My heart is pounding at a maddening space by now. Time is running out. First thing first, I throw the quilt over the bed to hide the damning evidence; I'll just have to deal with that later. Then I pull on the t-shirt and the pair of shorts I left by my pillow this morning, kicking the heap of my outdoor clothes under the bed at the same time. I just had time to twist open a bottle of Chinese painkilling ointment and splash some of that smelly stuff on my left ankle when the bedroom door cracks open.

Sniff, Sniff! "What's that horrible smell?" Sylvie yells bitchily, "I told you not to do this in the bedroom, Jack." 

"You should have told me." I talk back in measured anger. "I'm not going out there when that four foot..." I check myself in mid-sentence as I have made a promise to May. I begin again, "I'm not going out there when she's here."

"Oh, God! I forgot." Surprise written all over her face as Sylvie turns to leave, shutting the door behind her, forgetting all about me already.

Then I hear the knock, knock on the other door. After a brief pause, Sylvie enters the spare room and is yakking away with May. I sit on my bed in a daze, my heart still pounding madly. That's been a close call.

After almost an hour, Sylvie suddenly opens the bedroom door to fetch a handbag. May walks pass the doorway without giving me a sideway glance, just like she's been doing for years. But I know better now. She has pulled back her shoulder-length silky black hair and ties it to a ponytail. She put on some light makeup to soften the line of her high cheekbone. She is wearing small diamond ear-studs; first time I notice her with earrings. She has a clinging black nightgown. A pair of 5-inch black patent leather stilettos makes her look taller. What a Goddess! I can feel my erection reviving. At the same time, I feel a twinge of jealousy. Who is she going out with tonight?

"May, keep the spare keys. Come back and stay the night after the wedding banquet. It would be late and I don't want you going home on your own." Sylvie bosses her sister about, just like she does to everybody else.

"No. You won't be here. I think I better go home." May declines.

"Don't be silly. It's my mahjong night of the week. Jack here won't bother you. Just let yourself in tonight. I shall probably be back around 10 or 11, tomorrow morning. May be we can have brunch together. Stay for the night, okay?"

"Alright!" May tries her best to sound reluctant.

"Now you go ahead and wait for me at the lift lobby while I fetch something." Sylvie orders again.

I hear May clatters her heels outside the flat.

"Now Jack, be nice to her tonight, alright?" Sylvie stares at me sternly.

"Yeah, yeah, I hear you."

Then they are both gone. Yes, I shall be super-nice to May tonight. We have a whole night together! And next Friday, I bet Sylvie will be playing mahjong again. I can feel the growing ache of my erection already!

- END -



Jack and Megan



The line of mourners moved slowly, with each person having their moment to pay their respects to the late Gerald Dunleavy. Me, I didn't care about Gerald Dunleavy. The guy was a proper bastard in life, so why pay him any respect in death? Instead, I was here because I needed a few days away from my crumbling life. It seemed like a good opportunity to return to my hometown of Russell Creek. I figured I'd meet some old friends at the funeral, maybe talk over drinks later, and get a couple good nights' sleep before returning home to my failing job, my failing marriage, my failing sanity. The way things were going, this could be my last time visiting Russell Creek before I had mourners of my own.

At this point in the afternoon, I wasn't sure the whole "meet old friends" part of the plan was going to work out, because I was avoiding talking to or even making eye contact with anyone else at the funeral. I watched people, but if they happened to meet my gaze, I'd quickly turn away. The truth is, I felt embarrassed about what I had become. I left here twelve years ago, full of promise. Now I was... well... I don't know what I was. I wasn't really anything.

I passed by the casket, nodded my head vaguely towards the body of GTO --"GTO" being the nickname everyone had for the late Mr. Dunleavy when we were in high school-- and then took my seat toward the back of the room. A strange thing I noticed was that there were very few people crying. Yes, there were a lot of people here, but only a handful --mainly his family members in the front row-- seemed to show any emotion at his passing. Cancer had taken the life of young 30-year-old Gerald "GTO" Dunleavy, and my only wish at this point, terrible as it sounds, was that he had lived a little longer just so that he had more time to suffer. To say I disliked GTO was understating it. I've reserved the word "hate" for very few people in my time on this earth, but he was an exclusive member of that club.

When it seemed that the funeral was winding down, I scanned the faces of those who were still standing. One of the few who were crying, and making a big display of herself as she always had, was Kathy Miller, --or at least her maiden name was "Miller," though I had no clue what it was now-- GTO's girlfriend from Grade 8 until sometime in Grade 11, who was sobbing loudly and uncontrollably at the front of the room. She was being consoled by a few women I vaguely remembered from back then. About twenty feet away was a guy I recognized as Guy Britton, who was talking excitedly to Marie Zucker, a girl he had had a crush on for most of high school. And then, partially hidden behind him... could it be?... I stood up to try to get a better look.

It was as if time slowed to a crawl. It was Megan. Sweet Megan. I hadn't seen her in more than ten years. My God. Megan. I felt like I had been punched in the gut. I sat down. I stared at the floor for the next several minutes, only looking up quickly every thirty seconds or so to see where she was in the room. I could barely even look at her. I felt heartsick, like every time I looked at her since I realized I loved her. God, I never thought I would see her again. She wore a modest but cute black dress, and there was a black headband in her shoulder-length brown hair. Her deep brown eyes scanned the room wildly. I wondered who she was looking for. It had to be someone specific. She was surrounded by people she should recognize. My God. She had put on a little weight since high school, but her curves. My God. I shouldn't be thinking about this, I thought. This isn't the time. My heart was beating loudly in my ear. She met my eyes for a second, and I shifted my gaze to the flowers by the casket. The scent of those flowers filled the air. It smelled like lies. Like death. My God, she saw me.

Megan walked over to me and sat down. Her hands were in her lap, and she played with her wedding ring nervously. She's married. I felt crushed. Not surprised, but crushed regardless.

"Hi, Jack," she said, somewhat mumbling the words. She brushed a few strands of hair out of her eyes. She looked at me. I could see it in my peripheral vision. I struggled to talk.

"H-hi, Megan," I said after what seemed like ten minutes.

"It's been a long time," she said, her voice hushed. She always spoke so quietly. I hadn't forgotten that about her. I tried to think of the last time we had spoken to one another. It was some basketball game at the high school. Every once in a while, between the Fall and Spring semesters at college, I would attend the basketball games at my former high school. It was always a good place to meet old friends, since most of us were bad at staying in contact. There was always a lot to keep up on. So-and-so is engaged, so-and-so is at an Ivy League school, so-and-so hasn't been seen since graduation but I heard he went into the service. Those were pretty good times. I loved college, but it was always good to catch up with old friends from high school.

I remember the last time I had seen Megan at one of those games. I wanted to talk to her, but by this point she would barely acknowledge me. Our friendship had greatly deteriorated during the last few months of our senior year in Russell Creek High School, and even though she had promised to call sometime, I hadn't actually spoken to her since a brief and awkward conversation at Guy Britton's graduation party. I could even remember the conversation. Neither of us could believe that his parents bought him beer for the party, and we both hated the DJ. It was small talk, idle chatter. That's what we had been reduced to. A year earlier and we would have talked each other's ears off until three in the morning. That was too long ago. It sometimes hurt to think about it.

At the basketball game, Megan was talking to Sarah Cunningham and Guy Britton. Guy motioned me to come over when Megan was looking away, but I shook my head and tried to focus on the game that was winding down. But I couldn't keep my eyes off of her for long. When there were only about two minutes left in the game, GTO and a couple of his jock friends entered the gymnasium. Megan looked over at GTO, and their eyes met for a few seconds. GTO then kind of snickered and said something to the guys around him, and they all laughed and, not so subtly, stole glances at her. Megan looked horrified. She stared at the floor for several seconds while Guy and Sarah looked at each other, and then she bolted out of the gymnasium as fast as she could.

I followed her. I knew she didn't want to talk to me, but I had to try to make her feel better. I used to be able to do that. I remember a number of times that she had called me, crying, and we talked for hours. At the end of those conversations, she would be laughing and sniffling. She once called me her sweetheart. I could never get that out of my head.

"Megan!" I called after her. Her hands were fists, and she walked with her arms rigidly, angrily swinging. I had to jog in order to catch up with her.

"Megan!" I called again, this time only a few feet behind her. I walked up beside her and tried to grab her hand. She looked straight ahead, her eyes streaming tears. I loved her. I wanted her to be okay.

"It's okay, Megan, it's okay. Don't worry about him," I said.

"What is wrong with me?" she said, her voice breaking up, close to incoherent. "Why does he treat me like this? I thought he liked me..." She trailed off because she began sobbing. She was still moving forward, but at a much slower pace. I tried to put my arm around her, but she shrunk away. I felt deflated.

"There's nothing wrong with you, Meg," I said, "He's not worth all this. You're wonderful, you're one of the nicest people I've ever known."

Megan continued sobbing, and then said, "I don't want you to see me like this," and ran off. Maybe I should have followed her, but I thought she just needed some time for herself. I figured I'd see her at another game, or maybe at Homecoming the following year.

But she was gone. She faded into the shadow, and it was as if the sun had faded. I never heard about what happened to her, at least not anything definite. I had heard a rumor that she had gotten pregnant in college and married the guy, and they lived in New Hampshire or somewhere else in New England. I didn't trust the source, but somehow I figured that wherever she was, she wasn't planning to return. Russell Creek held too many bad memories for her, or maybe just one huge bad memory. That fucking bastard GTO. He ruined my Megan. He ruined everything. She should have been mine.

"Yeah, it's been maybe ten years," I said, the sentence sounding non-committal as if I expected her to correct me. She didn't. She looked at her hands. She should have been mine. I should have been the one to put that ring on her finger. I've loved her my whole life.

I tried to shake the feeling out of me. Why do I do this to myself? I thought. I felt like I fell for almost every woman I talked to. It didn't used to be that way, but I think it came into effect around the time my marriage began to really hit rock bottom. It had been heading there since the beginning, but I couldn't see it until it was too late to fix.

My wife, Karen, and I had met in college. She was a different person then. She was ambitious, fun, friendly, and beautiful. We had done everything I thought we were supposed to, given my religious background. We built a friendship together. We had fun. We laughed. I loved her dearly.

Karen's eyes sparkled with kindness. I could see it even when waves of curly blonde hair fell into her face. She used to smile at me. God, I couldn't remember the last time I'd seen her smile. On our wedding day, I imagined that I had never seen a more beautiful woman than the one who walked down the aisle towards me. Her eyes shone through the veil. I wanted badly to make love to her, but I knew it wouldn't be long.

That night, she emerged from the bathroom wearing her bra and panties, and the veil. My heart was racing, and I was trembling. We lay on the bed, gazing into each other's eyes. We kissed. I kissed her neck, her earlobes, her face. I slowly put my hand inside her panties, my fingers running through her pubic hair. Her juices were flowing so much that I could feel it all around her slit. I loved her so deeply in that moment that I wanted to take her right there, but first I wanted to pleasure my new wife. I wanted her to feel loved and cherished and beautiful. I devoured her wet, quivering pussy. I spread her labia wide and drank all of her wetness. My tongue explored her, entered her. I made love to her with my tongue, and her hips rose as she gasped, clutching the sheets.

She was worried about how sex would feel, so she wanted to be on top. She straddled me, smiling at me with her sweet, innocent face. She grasped my cock, rubbing it up and down her wet slit and through her pubic hair, and then put it at the entrance of her vagina. She squatted on top of my cock and I felt her warmth around the tip as the head slid inside her. She gasped, winced, but then smiled, lowering herself, then lifting, then lowering, allowing a little more of me to enter her each time. I couldn't believe how it felt. So warm and wet, like a tight, hot mouth swallowing my cock deeper and deeper. Soon I was completely inside her, and I pulled her close to me. We were two unspoiled lovers, our bodies belonging only to each other. Our first time was brief, as it usually is I suppose, but we were completely in love with each other and it was heaven.

If anyone were to ask me what went wrong in our marriage, I would honestly have trouble telling them. I don't know where it began, or what caused it. But Karen changed, slowly and in subtle ways at first, but, in more recent years, so greatly that I could barely recognize the woman I was waking up with each morning. Sex had all but disappeared, and she used her witholding of it as a way to wield power over me. She had stopped taking care of herself, and began spending most of her time watching television, eating, and ignoring everything around her. I became responsible for everything that needed to be done, and was rewarded with harsh words, power struggles, and constant disappointment.

Here in Russell Creek, hundreds of miles away from my real life, the life that was currently on hold for a few days, I felt distant from everything. Distant from the people who populated my past, as their lives had taken many different paths and had turned them into people I barely recognized. Distant from the people who populated my present, as they were all far away from me and I barely felt a connection with them anyway. People used to think I had it together... I wondered where it was that I had left the right path, and at what point I had fallen into this ditch. I thought that Karen held the key to my happiness. Maybe she did at one time. But my happiness was hopelessly lost now, I thought as I sat here with Megan, the woman with whom I should have been all those years ago. Both of our lives had taken many wrong turns, it seemed. What would things have been like if I had told her how I felt about her way back then, before GTO? Before she fled from me?

Megan was still playing with her wedding ring. I wondered what she was thinking about. When I looked at her eyes, her gaze was directed at the ring. She was frowning. I turned away from her and sighed. It was almost too much to bear, just being in her presence. A flood of old feelings had begun to wash over me when I first saw her, as if they had lay dormant for years, waiting for some sort of signal to flow forth.

"You look... good," I said, finally. I didn't know why I said it. I just felt that I needed to break the silence. I think I was afraid that if we couldn't engage in some sort of conversation, it would be easy for her to simply get up and find someone more interesting to talk to. If that happened, I'd be almost sure never to see her again.

"Thanks," she said, smiling slightly. Our eyes met. "You look good, too." I doubted that she meant it, but it felt pretty nice anyway.

"Thanks," I said, smiling. I felt my cheeks grow a little flushed.

"Where do you live now?" I asked.

She seemed hesitant to answer, as if embarrassed. She said the word "Um" a half dozen times or so, and then finally gave me an answer: "Vermont."

Vermont. That's right next to New Hampshire. I wondered if the rest of the rumor I had heard was true, that she had become pregnant in college and then married.

"Kids?" I asked.

"Yes. Two boys," she said, and she gave me a real smile this time. A light was ignited in her eyes, the light of motherly love as her mind settled on her children. I smiled with her. At least there was something good in her life.

"I'm happy for you," I said, and her smile slowly faded. She was twisting her wedding ring faster now. I detected some tension.

"How about you? Any kids?" she asked.

"No," I said.

"How long have you... been married?"

"Um, seven years," I said.

"Oh."

"You?" I asked.

"Um...," she hesitated a long time before answering. Then she spoke even lower and softer than before: "Nine years."

"Oh."

It appeared as if she wanted to offer an explanation, but none came. She looked embarrassed.

"It's... really good to see you again," I said. She smiled, but didn't say anything. "I had hoped you were doing well."

Megan's eyes grew glassy, and she sniffled a little.

"Are you doing well?" I asked, my voice wavering.

She didn't have time to answer. Just then, Sarah Cunningham, or at least the former Sarah Cunningham, appeared to the left of Megan and sat down next to her. Megan blew her nose into a tissue quickly, and Sarah --who had always been a bit of a talker-- began comforting her friend, and basically stole all of Megan's attention away from me. I could hear Sarah talking a mile a minute and felt that Megan was now out of my reach once again. I sighed, looked at the coffin, and thought about what GTO had stolen from me. That fucking bastard. I hope there's a hell, and I hope it's full of GTO and other guys like him. Megan was my sweetheart... at least, I wanted her to be. She was my true love, and she should have become my wife.

My mood had definitely soured by the end of the funeral. I had hoped that I would have another opportunity to talk to Megan before leaving, but Sarah and then a few other women drew all of her attention for the duration. I left by myself, feeling about as low as I had ever felt. I felt a sort of desperation as well. I didn't want to return to my life, and the disappointment that plagued it. But I couldn't stay here. This wasn't my life anymore. These were only shadows of what I used to know. Soon even most of the shadows would be gone, returning to their lives, happy or sad. I was a shadow to them as well. I felt like killing myself.

As I was leaving, Guy Britton stopped me. He was accompanied by his wife, Kayla. She was a beautiful woman, and seemed very sweet. Exactly what he deserved. Guy was always a good friend. We hadn't kept in contact much over the years, but I was happy to know that he had apparently found his happiness.

"Jack, dude," he said --he always called me dude-- "Are you going to the after-party?"

Kayla suddenly looked annoyed and elbowed him. "Stop!" she said, in a somewhat less-than-serious tone.

"What?" Guy said, looking less-than-genuinely hurt.

"Your friend just died," Kayla said.

"Whoa, whoa, wait a minute here," Guy said, "First of all, Gerald was not my friend. He wasn't Jack's friend. The people who he was friends with... they weren't friends of ours, either. Gerald was a jerk, and I'm sure Jack here would appreciate the opportunity to toast Gerald's soul to wherever it is guys like him end up..." At this, Kayla's jaw dropped, but there was a bit of a naughty twinkle in her eye.

"Secondly, my adoring bride, almost everybody is going to the bar. It'll be like a class reunion, except without all the 'Most Distance Traveled' awards and all that stupid stuff."

"Wait, wait," I interrupted him. "Who's going?"

"Oh, I don't know, exactly. But just about everybody. Sarah and Toby and a bunch of other people were organizing it. Didn't you hear about it?"

"No..." I responded, somewhat hurt to have been left out of the loop. Still, the idea formed in my head, a glimmer of hope, that Sarah had asked Megan, and that maybe Megan would take her up on the invitation.

"Hmm, wait a second," Guy said suddenly, attempting to study my face. "I think I know what's going on here."

"What?" I asked.

"Dude... her? Is that what you're thinking about?"

I started to blush.

"Oh man..." he said, the humor now gone from his face.

Now it was Kayla's turn to ask, "What?"

"Nothing, babe. Let's get going," Guy said slowly and seriously. When Kayla turned to look in a different direction, Guy shook his head at me, as if warning me. He held up two fingers and mouthed the words, "She has TWO kids." I rolled my eyes, nodded my head, and looked away.

"Anyway, dude, the party's at McLaughlin's. Obviously you'll have to buy your own drinks, or at least find an old cougar who thinks you're an easy score," Guy said, some of the humor returning to his face.

I was staying with my parents while in town for the funeral, and I went to their house in order to change out of my funeral clothes and into something more casual. My dad seemed amused at the idea of people meeting at the bar after GTO's funeral. My mom wasn't so amused.

"It's terrible, if you ask me," she said, looking up from her magazine. "I know that a bunch of you didn't like the guy, but couldn't you have a little respect for the occasion?"

Dad rolled his eyes. I just grinned at my mother.

"I mean, why did you even come back here for this funeral if you didn't like the guy? Is it some sort of joke?"




Jack and Megan



"I guess I just felt that it was a good opportunity to see some old friends," I said, "And apparently a bunch of my old friends thought the very same thing, because they're all meeting at McLaughlin's tonight."

My dad smiled, though he was pretending to ignore us, and my mom glared at him briefly.

"I only hope Gerald's poor family didn't hear you all making your silly plans. It may be funny to you, but this is a very dark day for his family. Especially after how much he suffered," Mom said.

"Yeah, okay, I agree that planning this at the funeral was in poor taste. I didn't participate in it, if you really want to know. I didn't even find out about it until afterwards," I said.

"Well, have a good time, Jack," my mom said, and then thought for a few moments. Finally, she said, "But just remember that someday you might see someone you love suffer and die just as Gerald did, and I hope that the people who are supposed to be there mourning with you won't secretly be planning a celebration during the funeral. And if they are, I hope you never find out about it, just like I hope Gerald's poor mother and sister never find out what you're all doing tonight."

"All right, Mom," I said, and bent down to give her a kiss on the cheek. "By the way, if we all decide we need a buzzkill to bring us all down, I'm throwing your name out there, okay?"

Mom wasn't amused at all, but my Dad snickered a little and then pretended to cough.

I felt an unusual ray of hope as I drove to McLaughlin's Pub, a bar on Main Street that I remember was a very popular spot when I was growing up. At the time, however, I was too young to legally drink, so I mostly just heard stories. When I arrived, I felt that maybe its popularity had declined over the years, because there weren't many vehicles there yet. I felt a tinge of desperation when the idea occurred to me that Megan might not show up. Then I questioned myself. So what if she shows up? I thought. What then? She's married, and she has two kids. You're married, and you're not good-looking enough to steal her away. Besides, Megan barely spoke to you at the funeral, and barely spoke to you the last several times you saw her. In fact, you haven't had a reasonable conversation with her since January of your senior year. Right around the time of GTO. Right around the time he seduced her, and fucked her. And then threw her away, which crushed her.

For whatever reason, she had had feelings for him throughout most of high school. I remember feeling intense jealousy over that fact, and I felt, for the first time, trapped in my status as Megan's "buddy." When he suddenly seemed to share those same feelings for her, my sweet Megan was walking on clouds. She realized pretty quickly that I disapproved, and it drove a wedge between us. When GTO threw her aside after he had used her, it was like she was afraid to talk to me because she felt I would rub her face in it. I never would have done that. I only wanted her to be happy. But this became a black shadow over us, and because of it our relationship deteriorated quickly. We had had plans to spend a lot of time together on our senior trip, which was in Florida, but I ended up spending much of it alone. I had never had a more miserable week, watching her as she hung around with her other friends, noticing that she wasn't happy, but being unable to even converse with her at this point. She had made it clear that she didn't want to be friends with me anymore, and indeed didn't want to have anything to do with me at all. I had lost the best friend I ever had --our close friendship had lasted from fourth grade onward-- and also the girl I secretly loved throughout high school.

What she never knew was that I had planned for months to tell her how I felt about her at some point on our senior trip. I figured that there would be times when we would be alone, and I would pick the right moment to tell her. Then, hopefully, she would reveal that she had the same feelings for me, repressed beneath her feelings for that fucking jackoff GTO, and Megan and I would finish the trip as a couple, holding hands on the flight home. That was what I fantasized about for months, lying awake at night, writing and re-writing in my head the exact words I wished to tell her.

Then it was gone... the opportunity was forever out of my reach. And Megan became like one of the other girls at my high school that wouldn't talk to me.

Previously-dormant memories were still hitting me as I sat in my car in the parking lot of McLaughlin's, so many that I couldn't catalogue them. They were random, ranging from memories of her coming over to swim in our pool when we were kids, to times we spent together at our church's youth group, which she left around the time she started spending her days and evenings with GTO.

Of the youth group memories, the one that stood out most was the time that she and I had been paired together to go door-to-door in the neighborhood surrounding the church. We were attempting to invite neighborhood people to the church, and also to possibly engage them in a spiritual discussion that might result in their conversions. The idea of talking to people about this frightened me to the point that I had twisted up a stack of flyers in my hands when we were walking on the sidewalk towards the area we had been designated to cover. Megan laughed and pointed when she saw what I had done.

"Look! You've ruined them!" she said, giggling, and brushing her bangs out of her brown eyes. "Why did you do that?"

"I'm scared!" I said, turning as red as a tomato.

"Wait, wait," Megan said, stopping me with her hand, "Why are you scared?"

"Aren't you?" I asked, breathing heavily, practically hyperventilating.

"I don't know. Why should I be?" she asked.

"I don't know. I'm just not sure what to say to these people. I'm shy, everybody knows that! Why would they make me do this?"

Megan saw now how distressed I was, and she took my hand. We were still best friends at this point, and we had spent countless hours talking to each other in person and on the phone, yet very rarely had there been any meaningful physical contact between us. The butterflies left my stomach, for the moment at least, but I was still blushing. She just stood there looking into my face, holding my hand.

"Jack, you don't have to say anything if you don't feel comfortable. You can let me do all the talking, okay?"

"You don't have to do that," I said.

"But I'm willing to," Megan said. "And I'd never tell anyone that you didn't say anything, okay?"

We stood there like that for a minute or two, and then I nodded my head and smiled.

"Ready, Jeeb?" she asked, her brown eyes looking more beautiful and sweet than ever beneath her long bangs. She was the only one who ever called me "Jeeb," which was a nickname she had come up with for me when we were in sixth grade.

"O- okay," I said, and she let go of my hand and continued walking.

That afternoon, we stopped at a few dozen houses, and Megan impressed me with how easily she had conversations about spiritual things with complete strangers. Only a few times did I ever say anything, and usually it was brief and my voice cracked. The twisted-up flyers became much more twisted by the end of the afternoon, and there were a few times when Megan pointed at them and giggled again. She was the kind of girl that could make anyone feel at ease, no matter the situation.

We were supposed to be going door-to-door for three hours, from one until four in the afternoon. But by three o'clock, with an hour left, Megan and I had grown tired of walking and decided to sit on the curb on a quiet street. She was wearing a skirt, so she carefully sat down with the fabric covering her knees, keeping her legs together. I sat beside her, aware now of the pleasant but chilly late-autumn breeze that was lifting Megan's bangs from her face. She looked at the ground, then at me, then at the twisted papers in my hand. She smiled. This was during our senior year of high school, just after we'd both turned eighteen. It was only a few months before the incident between her and GTO. Less than six months from the day Megan and I sat on the curb together we would no longer be much more than mere acquaintances who forced a few words of small talk now and then. For the moment, however, we were as close as any couple, only there was nothing more than friendship between us.

"Why are you afraid to talk to people about the church?" she asked softly. There was no tone of demanding in her voice. She simply wanted to know.

"I'm not afraid to talk to people about the church, I'm just afraid to talk to them about God and salvation and stuff like that," I said.

"Oh," Megan said. Her arms were crossed over her knees, and she rested her chin on her arms. She stuck her bottom lip out in one of those sad puppy dog faces.

"Megan!" I said, half giggling. "Don't mock me! This is serious!"

"I know, Jeeb," she said. "I was just trying to make you smile."

I blushed and looked down at the twisted papers in my left hand.

"Does it ever bother you when people ask you to smile more?" she asked.

"Sometimes," I said. "But you don't even have to ask me. You just say something funny or make some silly face, and I can't help it."

Megan giggled and gave me a light punch on the arm.

"Hey, watch it, lady," I said, grinning, "I'll knock your socks off. I don't care if you are a giiiiiirl!"

"I'm not wearing socks, silly," she said.

"Then I'll knock your pant..." I started to say, then caught myself. I was going to say "panties." She looked at me with wide eyes and her mouth was open with surprise.

"Jack!" she cried, grinning, and gave me a harder punch in the arm.

"What! Your pantyhose! That's what I was going to say!" I said in a loud whisper, rubbing my arm where she had punched me.

"I'm not wearing those, either, see?" she said, and without thinking lifted her skirt above her knees, inadvertently showing me her underwear. It was white, flowered. I couldn't hide my shock.

"Uh oh, I just flashed you, didn't I?" she said. Her eyes were wide again.

"It's all right," I said. My face was tomato-red. Megan bit her lip and thought for a few moments.

"Well, I guess it's okay. You're like a brother to me, anyway, so what does it matter?" she said.

"Yeah," I said in a low voice, and my gaze fell to the street. I didn't want her to see that the "brother" comment had made me feel a little sad. For all of high school, I had been hiding these strong feelings for Megan, and it was at that moment that I felt the most hopeless about my chances of ever being more than just her friend. Well, at least the most hopeless I had felt up until that point.

Megan stared at me for a while. I felt her eyes studying my face, trying to figure out why I was suddenly quiet. Years later, I still wonder whether or not she detected my feelings for her in that moment. If she did, she never let on.

"Are you embarrassed?" she asked, after an eternity.

"No. I'm just thinking," I said.

"About what?"

"I don't know... what I'm going to do after graduation," I lied. I wasn't really thinking about any of that stuff at the moment. But I felt that I couldn't tell her the truth, as much as I wanted to.

"Yeah, I think about that a lot, too," Megan said, her voice now hushed again. "Are you still planning to go to the Bible university?"

"I don't know."

"Why not? I thought you wanted to be a youth pastor."

"I did," I said. "But I've been..." I didn't finish the sentence. What I was going to say was that I had been having doubts about whether or not I even believed in God anymore. She knew better than anyone that I had struggled with the subject of religion and had more or less given up on the whole thing a few times during high school. There were nights when we stayed up talking on the phone until two or three in the morning, Megan trying her best to "bring me around" and encourage me, and me just wanting to go to bed but not wanting to stop talking to her. Looking back on it, these were the preliminary doubts that eventually led to my renouncing my religion, though this didn't happen until after I had a degree from the Bible university.

"Is that why it was hard for you to talk to people today?" she asked. With Megan, I found that I didn't always have to finish my sentences for her to know what I was talking about. We were almost always in tune with each other at this point.

"Yeah," I said.

"I thought maybe that was the reason."

I didn't say anything. I was afraid that she was disappointed in me. I hated the thought of disappointing her. In some ways, she seemed to look up to me as a model of level-headedness, like I really had things together. I was afraid to admit to her that I was just as confused and messed-up as everyone else was. I guess I was flattered by the idea of someone thinking highly of me in any way.

"Wherever you end up going, Jack, can you promise you won't forget about me?" she said quietly.

"What? Why would you even say that?" I said.

"It's just, I'm not as smart as you. I don't know if I'll even be able to get into that college."

"But even if you didn't go to the same college, does that mean we wouldn't be friends anymore?" I said.

"I don't know. You'd meet lots of new people, and you'd make a lot of friends," she said. There was sadness in her voice.

"But they wouldn't be you," I said.

Megan looked up again and smiled at me.

It's hard to believe now that my friendship was so important to her at the time, and yet by spring we were barely on speaking terms anymore. I remember that after a few minutes of silence, we stood up and walked back to the church. She had grown quiet, reserved. The only thing she said to me the whole way back was, "Don't tell anyone I showed you my underwear, okay?"

"I won't. It's not like you did it on purpose," I said. She just smiled at me, an odd smile I couldn't figure out.

Thinking back on these things, I grew sad, sitting in my rusty old car in the McLaughlin's Pub parking lot. I didn't want to sit at a bar all night, I realized then. I just wanted one more walk with Megan, to sit on a curb and talk to her again. Maybe she'd explain why our once-strong friendship crumbled all those years ago. Maybe we'd just sit there, enjoying one last moment together before returning to our "real" lives. No matter how we spent it, the important thing would be that we would be friends again. I hated losing her as a friend. I hated the years of questions, the loose ends in my life she created when she pulled herself from me. The wounds that never really healed.

I sighed and got out of the car. I was suddenly sure this was a bad idea. I didn't belong here. I barely knew any of these people anymore. I figured that maybe I'd have a drink or two and then return to my parents' house. I'd still have another full day in town after this one before sleeping one more night in my old bed and then driving back home. Maybe I'd just spend that last day watching TV. "You drove five hundred miles so that you could sit and watch TV?" my mom would probably say. But she'd still be glad I was there with them.

I opened the door to McLaughlin's. A few of my old classmates were sitting at the bar. At the moment there were no other patrons. Maybe we'll have the place to ourselves, I thought. One of my old acquaintances, Chris McNeil, yelled, "Jack!" and two of the girls with him said, "Woo!" and smiled at me. They were two more women I vaguely remembered from high school but couldn't remember their names. I hoped that I wouldn't be forced into a situation where I had to admit that I was very bad with remembering the names of my classmates who weren't actually friends with me. I have a good memory, but not with names or faces. I remembered places I'd been, the weather, how any particular event made me feel, but faces and names were often a blur for me. This would undoubtedly get worse after a few drinks. I gritted my teeth and walked over to the group. I planted myself on a stool at the bar, ordered my first drink, and made awkward small talk with Chris for about twenty minutes. At that point, more old faces began to arrive by the carload, and soon there were at least thirty old schoolmates of mine talking and laughing and drinking.

At the first time I checked my watch, roughly 45 minutes after I arrived, there was no sign of Megan. I saw Sarah Cunningham in one of the booths, eating a small plate of chicken wings, but Megan was not with her. Maybe she hadn't taken Sarah up on the invitation, or maybe she hadn't been invited at all. I decided that perhaps I might need the alcohol after all.

To be honest, I had a pretty good time, even without Megan being there. I was finding myself in good spirits again, though every few minutes I would scan the room, hoping that she had arrived but that maybe I hadn't seen her. I looked at my watch, and it was now 10:30 pm, roughly three hours after I had arrived. I resigned myself to the idea that Megan was not going to show up, and found that my mood was growing sour again even though I had a few drinks in me.

At 11:15, I was thinking that maybe I should just go home. Everyone was still enjoying themselves, but I was no longer in the mood. I paid for my drinks, used the filthy bathroom and walked out of the bar without even saying goodbye to Guy or Kayla or anyone.

When I stepped outside, I was surprised to see Megan standing about twenty feet from the door, with her back turned to me. She was talking on her cell phone. She was now wearing a pair of jeans and a blouse, and her short brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail. I was wondering why she hadn't made her way into the bar, but as I drew closer to her, I realized that she was having an argument. Or, rather, the deep male voice on the other end --whom I could hear clearly even from several feet away-- was arguing with her, while she spoke a few words here and there in her familiar hushed voice. She didn't know I was behind her yet, and I froze. I didn't want her to think I was listening in on her conversation, but I was worried that I might make too much noise walking away. So I stood about ten feet behind her, trying to look casual by staring at the sky.

"I told you, Steve, I told you a hundred times. I'm driving home the day after tomorrow," she said to the man on the phone. Probably her husband, I thought. Judging by his voice, he sounds like a jerk. Maybe that's what she likes. Maybe that's the kind of guy she feels secure to be around. Maybe I was just too big of a wuss for her. Or not cool enough.

"I'm at the bar... No, a bunch of my classmates from high school are here... I'm just going to have a drink and talk to some old friends... Steve, listen, I'm not cheating on you," she said. I'm ashamed to say that I began listening more closely by this point.

The voice on the other end began yelling, simply letting poor Megan have it. She began to sniffle, and when she spoke again her voice was cracking. "Steve, I'm not doing anything wrong. Why do you talk to me like that?... I'm sorry... I'm sorry... No, I'm sorry, but I'm hanging up now."

With that, she hit a button on her phone and slammed the cover shut. She sighed, still facing away from me, and immediately the phone rang again. She opened the cover, looked at the number, and then pulled the battery out of the phone, placing the phone and battery separately into her purse.

Megan turned around and noticed me standing there, and she sniffled and wiped her eyes. She opened her mouth as if she were going to say something to me, but then closed it. Tears were welling up in her eyes again. I walked towards her. She looked like she was about to lose it. I held out my arms and put them around her, and pulled her close to me. Megan began sobbing into my shoulder. She seemed to be letting loose a flood of emotion, judging by the amount of tears and how long she just sobbed and sobbed. My shirt was now soaking wet with her tears, but I simply held her close to me. She was finally letting down a decade's worth of defenses, finally letting me in on just how much she was hurting.




Jack and Megan



After a long time, she blew her nose, and wiped her eyes on her sleeve. She was still so beautiful, even with her brown eyes all bloodshot.

"I'm sorry, Jack. It's been a really tough day," she said.

"I know. It's fine."

"First the funeral, and now my husband is yelling at me, calling me a whore and all these other names, and I don't know where he gets all this rage towards me."

I didn't respond. I just stood there with her while she got herself together. I was vaguely aware of a cool breeze hitting the wetness on my shirt, making me feel slightly chilly in the night air.

"Jack, I don't want to bother you, but could you do me a big favor?"

"Anything," I said, and I meant it.

"I need a drink. Or maybe two. And then I need someone to talk to. I know I have no right to expect this from you, but could I talk to you? I just want someone to talk to."

"Of course, Megan," I said, and she smiled. Her eyes were puffy, and her makeup was smeared from her tears.

"Thanks. You've always been a good friend."

I sat quietly with Megan while she drank two cocktails over the course of a half hour. I was just amazed to be here with her. When she was finishing up the last one, Kayla Britton walked up to us and, before she could say anything, noticed that Megan had been crying.

"What's wrong?" she asked. She didn't even know Megan, but I think she was a naturally sympathetic person.

"Nothing, it's just been a long day," Megan said. I could tell that she wasn't willing to open up to just anyone. I suddenly felt privileged. Soon Guy joined his wife, and when he noticed Megan's face, he suddenly looked concerned.

"Dude, can I talk to you for a sec?" he asked me.

"Sure," I said. I turned to Megan and said, "I'll be right back, okay?"

I followed Guy to the corner of the room.

"What's going on here?" he asked.

"What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean. Why was Megan crying?"

"She's... she's just had a rough day, I think. I mean, you remember, she and GTO dated for a little while..."

"That's a polite way to put it," Guy said. "GTO just used her, everybody knows that. She has to be upset for some other reason."

"Listen, don't worry about it, all right?" I said. "She just needs someone to talk to."

Guy thought for a few moments, then kind of shook his head.

"Yeah, I don't know what I was thinking," he said. "Well, enjoy yourself, and take care of her, okay? I know you care about her."

"Okay, man. If I don't see you by the time I leave, um, just give me a call or something sometime or e-mail me, and just let me know how you and Kayla are doing."

"Will do, friend," Guy said, then noticed Marie Zucker, the girl with whom he had been enamored in high school, sitting by herself at the end of the bar.

"Geez, man," he sighed. "If I weren't happily married, you know?"

"Haha, I know. You better tend to your wife before one of the drunks seduces her."

"Yeah, you're right," Guy said. "She's hot, isn't she? But hands off, all right? She's got my ring on her finger."

"Deal," I said, and we walked back to Megan and Kayla. Kayla was still having no luck getting Megan to open up to her. She and Guy left us alone, I paid for Megan's drinks, and Megan walked out with me.

We both left our cars at the bar and walked side-by-side on the sidewalk. Megan was quiet for a while, and I didn't want to force any conversation from her so I waited for her to talk when she was ready. We were walking past familiar places along Main Street. The old bowling alley, now boarded up and dark for the last several years, had been the site of a number of birthday parties, as well as occasional outings with our church's youth group. Next door to the bowling alley was a small, family-owned convenience store, where Megan and I would walk to and buy candy. Then we'd sit on one of the benches in nearby Main Street Park and play one of those little magnetic travel board games. Across the street from the park was the public library where we had spent many Saturday afternoons when we were in elementary and middle school, reading quietly together --for me it was mostly collections of comic strips, for her it was a lot of mystery novels for young readers-- for hours.

It wasn't until when we were freshmen in high school that a few schoolmates, having seen Megan and I together, began asking if she and I were boyfriend and girlfriend. I'm sure I had thought about the idea before, but after having been asked a few times, the idea became planted in my mind and began to germinate. Megan and I were still spending a lot of time together, but our parents became more cautious about our being alone. I was slow to mature in a lot of ways, so in the beginning this confused me. However, once the image of Megan as a girl, a young woman, became implanted in my mind, I was no longer as smooth and carefree around her as I had once been. I started paying attention to how I dressed, how I smelled, and what I said when I was around her. One time when I was at the department store with my mom, I begged her to let me buy a bottle of cologne, which she reluctantly did. I put some on the next time I saw Megan, and she laughed at me and punched me in the arm. But she also told me it was a good scent, so I started wearing it often.

Years later, walking alongside Main Street with this woman who had been my best friend from age nine until eighteen, I felt both the familiarity of our surroundings and the void of the wasted years between eighteen and thirty. The Megan that walked alongside me still looked quite a bit like the Megan I knew back then, but she was a stranger to me now. She had a whole circle of people in her life --friends, work acquaintances, her new family, etc.-- that I knew nothing about, and our paths were only meeting for a short time, like someone you talk to in an airport or a bus station but then part ways.

I began to wonder if perhaps Megan had waited for me to mature enough for her, and that maybe it had taken so long that she had grown tired of waiting and wrote me off as a potential boyfriend. I wondered why it had taken me so long to come around, and if things would have turned out differently if I had acted more like a man and less like a child in the period when she began thinking about dating and boyfriends and all that. She was always kind to me, yes, and she never demanded or even asked for me to be anything other than what I was. But perhaps my teenage awkwardness had caused her to accept me only as a friend and not a candidate for any step beyond that.

"Can I ask you a question, Jack?" Megan asked, bringing me back into the present.

"Anything."

"Are you happy?"

"Happy? What do you mean?" I asked.

"Like, are you satisfied with the choices you've made? Your career? Your marriage? All that stuff?"

"To be honest," I said, "I'm not happy with how anything turned out."

Megan looked at me.

"Does that surprise you?" I asked.

"A little."

"Why?"

"Because you always seemed like the one who made good choices. I mean, about most things," Megan said.

"I thought I was making good choices. But it all kind of turned out wrong anyway," I said.

"What happened?" she asked.

"Well, I went on to the Bible university and got a degree even though by the end I didn't believe in God anymore, and I married a woman who I thought was good for me but she turned out to be very distant and detached."

"What do you mean, 'distant and detached'?" Megan said.

"It's hard to explain. Some of it has to do with..." I trailed off, becoming uncomfortable.

"Sex?" Megan said. She was still able to finish my sentences, I found.

"Yeah," I said. "Do you think that's petty, for me to be so concerned about that?"

"No. If it bothers you so much, it can't be petty."

At this point, Megan and I reached Main Street Park, which was very dark except for the section that was closest to the street. Russell Creek being a very safe town, one or two people don't need to be afraid of walking or sitting in the park by themselves at night. Megan led us to a bench which was mostly concealed by the shadow of a giant oak. But when we sat on the bench and I looked at her, I realized that I could still see her eyes shimmering in the moonlight.

"What's your wife's name?" Megan asked when we had sat down.

"Karen."

"Did you meet her at college?"

"Yes."

"Is she pretty?"

"Yes. She's beautiful."

"So what happened?"

"It's complicated," I said. "We waited until we were married to, you know, have sex. We had fooled around a few times when we were dating because it was difficult to wait so long, at least for me. We wanted to do the right thing, because we were both still religious at the time, but I was probably a bit impatient. In the limited stuff that we did before we were married, she showed some glimpses of being a passionate person. I guess I assumed that once we were married, things would fall into place and we'd have this fulfilling, satisfying sex life."

"And it didn't happen?" she asked.

"Not really. It was pretty good at first, even though she didn't really do much but lie still. But she let me do almost anything I wanted to, so I was okay with it for a while. But as time went on, she stopped allowing me to do much of anything, and it became very sterile and disappointing. And then it happened less and less frequently. Mostly now there's nothing."

Megan just sat and stared at me.

"I hope this isn't too personal to be talking about."

"No, not at all," Megan said.

"It's just that, even after all these years, I feel comfortable talking to you because you kind of know me better than almost anyone, or at least you know where I've come from. And there's no one else I can talk about this stuff with, so I'm kind of getting some things out. While I can, I guess."

"I understand. I feel the same about you," Megan said, and she put her hand over mine. At that moment, I felt a flood of emotion. I looked away so that I could keep myself from crying.

"It's... it's not even just about sex," I continued, "It's about the distance between her and me. I feel like I sleep alone, I live alone, I have nobody. But yet I have a roommate who keeps me trapped, and I know that's a terrible thing to say about a marriage. I just feel isolated and alone, and completely empty."

Megan squeezed my hand.

"And plus my job sucks," I said, and we both laughed.

"I married Steve because he got me pregnant in college," Megan said. "I wasn't even sure I loved him, but I made some mistakes and slept with him, and he said he wanted to do the 'honorable' thing."

I just sat there and let her continue.

"Personally, I wish he had just done the dishonorable thing and left me with a child, but if he had done that, I wouldn't have had my second son, Tommy." Megan barely got through the end of the sentence before she began to cry. I moved closer to her and stroked her back with my left hand, and with my right I grasped her right hand. She leaned into me, crying into my shoulder.

"I hate thinking like that," she said through her tears, "because I wouldn't trade my boys for anything. But sometimes I simply hate their father, and I don't know what to do because he is actually a good father to them."

Megan blew her nose and wiped her eyes. I continued to stroke her back.

"He's just a lousy husband, that's all. And a lousy friend."

"I understand," I said.

"So I guess we're both sort of trapped, aren't we?" Megan said sadly.

"It looks that way."

"Maybe we should have just married each other," she said with a slight laugh.

"Maybe."

Megan looked at me, and I thought I detected a feeling of longing in her stare. I don't know if it had anything to do with a physical or sexual attraction, but I think that she was feeling emotionally drawn to me in that moment.

"Jack, I fucked everything up, didn't I?" she said, and wiped her eyes.

"How did you fuck everything up?"

"I was so embarrassed after that whole Gerald incident that I couldn't stand to be around anybody, including you. And so I lost you."

I didn't know what to say, so I said nothing.

"I was afraid to be judged by everyone. I knew I had done something stupid. I was angry and I took it out on my best friend, because you were always doing the right thing."

"I haven't always done the right thing. We all make mistakes, Megan."

"I know. But you were my rock. You were the dependable one. And I couldn't stand always being the screw-up. And so I let you go. It was entirely my fault. I didn't know what I used to have until I realized I could never find someone else like you. Other guys that pretended to be my friend, ultimately they were just playing games with me. You were always honest and sincere with me. You were the best friend I ever had," Megan said. I was flattered and speechless.

"I wanted to find someone else like you, to fill that void in my heart. And I just let my guard down too much and ended up used and empty," she said, and looked down at our hands. She then sighed and looked up at me again.

"I'm sorry that this happened to you, Megan," I said, after a few moments. "Listen, there was something I always wanted to tell you when we were in high school, and I was too much of a chicken to ever say it."

"What?" Megan asked, and she seemed to grow tense, as if bracing herself for something.

"That I love you."

Megan began to cry softly.

"I've always loved you, and I still love you. Losing you as a friend was the hardest thing that I ever had to deal with, because I always wanted to be there for you and make sure you were okay."

She grasped me and hugged me, sniffling in my ear. She kissed my cheek, and I felt her warm tears.

"I've always loved you too, Jack," she said.

"Really?"

"Yes. I knew it for years, but I was confused and I didn't know how to say it," Megan said.

"I know it's wrong for me to say this now," I said, "but I wish that I had married you. I would have done anything to make you happy."

"I know you would have," she said. "I would have done anything to make you happy, too."

Then, a pause for a few seconds.

"Um... I still would," Megan whispered in my ear, and she put a hand on my thigh.

"Megan..." I said, and I turned my head and kissed her on the lips. Our first kiss, other than a few meaningless kisses when we were kids. It was indescribable to kiss Megan, who was the true desire of my heart, the love of my life. She kissed me back, leaning into me hard. She opened her mouth, and I opened mine. Our tongues met. I kissed her all over her face, tasting the salt of her tears. She sighed, gasped. I kissed her neck, her earlobes.

"Jack, oh Jack," she whispered. Her hand traveled to my crotch, and she felt around, finding my hardening cock through my jeans.

"Mmm, so long I've wanted this, Jack," Megan said.

"Me too, Megan."

"Can we... go somewhere? Somewhere inside, private?" she asked.

"Where? I'm staying with my parents."

"Are they light sleepers?"

"Your room looks pretty much exactly the same," Megan said incredulously. We had just snuck up the stairs to my old bedroom, past my parents' open bedroom door. I had heard them both snoring loudly, and I knew we were in no danger of waking them up. A truck could run into the house and they'd sleep through it. Anyway, Megan was right. My room had been left alone, other than the few things I had taken with me when I got married. My mom still changed the sheets and blankets every once in a while, just to keep them fresh, but otherwise she and my dad stayed out of there. There were a few times when Karen and I had stayed with my parents after we were married, and we both slept in my single bed. It was a tight squeeze, but I enjoyed sleeping close to my wife. Karen never slept close to me at any other time. She said it made her feel trapped and confined, and she couldn't sleep. The last time we had shared this bed, I remember that her sleeping shirt had a loose collar, and I slowly reached down her shirt and stroked her nipple, hoping that maybe it would turn into a little naughty sex in my old high school bed. But Karen simply grabbed my hand and pulled it out of her shirt with an angry sigh.

"Yeah, my parents didn't need to use the room for anything, so they left it alone," I said. I was sitting on the bed, taking my shoes off. In the light of my bedside lamp, I gazed at Megan, who was looking at the posters on my wall. She looked beautiful. Her rear end in tight jeans looked especially good in the lamplight, and I trembled with anticipation.

"Do you remember that sports jersey that you gave me because you outgrew it? The one you used to wear to school like twice a week?" she asked.

"Yeah, I remember that. I loved that shirt."

"So did I. That's what I used to sleep in, almost every night, until the thing became shreds. Sometimes in the middle of the night I'd smell it and imagine that it still smelled like you, and it comforted me. I didn't know it at the time, but I think I was already in love with you," Megan said, then her face grew sad. "I guess the problem is that I... I guess I..."

"You don't need to explain anything. That's all in the past. This is what we have now. Let's make the most of it," I said.

Megan walked over to me and kissed me again. "You're sweet," she whispered. Her tongue entered my mouth. Oh Megan, I thought. I can't believe this is happening.

I stroked her back, and then put my hands beneath her shirt and massaged her back over her bra.

"This thing's poking me," she said, reaching behind her, and unclapsed her bra. She pulled it out from beneath her shirt. "Much better."

I continued to massage her back, and she kissed me and rubbed my crotch over my jeans. I was very hard now, and the jeans were feeling uncomfortably tight.

As if reading my mind, she asked, "Can I take these off?" referring to my jeans. I nodded, speechless, and she unbuttoned my pants, unzipped the fly, and began to pull them down. She stared at the bulge under my boxer shorts, and gave me a smile. Megan then pulled off my jeans completely and began to stroke my cock over my boxers. She gazed at me hungrily, and pulled down my boxers, exposing my hard penis to her eyes for the first time. She gasped and grinned. I was holding my breath, not able to believe what was happening.

Megan grabbed my cock, stroking the shaft slowly, tickling the head with the tips of her fingers. She licked the head, then moaned.

"Mmm, you taste good, Jack," she said.

"Urrmmmm" is about the only noise I could make at the time. It was enough to make her giggle. Then she wrapped her lips around the head of my cock and began to suck, her tongue touching the tip gingerly. She then took the whole length of it in her mouth, and the warmth and wetness of her mouth made me shudder. It had been a very long time since anything like this had happened, as Karen, even in the early days of our marriage, did not want to put her mouth on my penis, even if I practically begged her to. I stroked Megan's hair, and she looked at me with a twinkle in her eyes as if knowing exactly how good this felt for me.

She sucked and licked, and I gazed down at her. She was a dream come true, my sweet Megan. Through the waves of pleasure I wondered if there were any way we could make this work between us, if we could get out of the traps we were in and be together, happy.

After a few minutes, Megan licked her lips and crawled on top of me. She removed my shirt. "My, what a nice chest you have, and a handsome flat stomach."

"Thanks. I try to stay fit," I said.

"Well, this is hardly fair, though. You're lying here naked, and I'm still clothed," Megan said.

"Mmm, that's true, sweetie," I said, and kissed her deeply. My hands traveled over her stomach, and I savored the feeling of her soft skin beneath my fingertips. I then felt the bottoms of her breasts, and, holding my breath, cupped them for the first time. Her nipples were hard, like little pencil erasers, and I rolled them between my thumbs and forefingers. Megan sighed with pleasure. She removed her shirt, and I admired her breasts. Many times I had imagined what they might look like, but I had never seen them. They were big, but still looked perky and young. Her pale pink areolas were fairly large but appropriate to the size of her breasts, and her nipples looked delicious. I sat up and began to suck on them, one after the other, enjoying the warmth of her body as she held my face to her breasts. She sighed and moaned in my ear.




Jack and Megan



I grabbed her and rolled over so that she was on the bed beneath me. Megan giggled and I kissed her again. Her dark brown eyes sparkled in the lamplight, and the sadness I had detected earlier in the day was gone. She looked happy, beaming. Maybe it would only be for this moment, but it was as if she had managed to forget all her troubles. It felt good to see her so happy. She must have seen the same in me, because she smiled even more as she gazed into my face.

"You're happy," she said.

"So are you."

"How could I not be?"

I kissed her again.

"I love you so much, Megan."

"I love you, too, Jack."

"It feels so good to be able to finally tell you that."

"Mmm hmm," Megan said.

I looked down at her jeans. "May I?" I asked, half-jokingly.

"I insist," she said.

I undid her jeans and slid them over her hips and down her legs. She was wearing somewhat modest but playful panties. They had pink stripes and a little bow. I gazed at the mound of her vulva, and there was a large wet spot on the crotch. I could detect a hint of her scent as I pulled down her jeans.

"I'm really wet," Megan said. She sounded almost embarrassed.

"I can tell," I laughed. "I'm glad."

She smiled at me, biting her lip slightly.

I pulled aside the crotch of her panties, exposing a thin covering of black pubic hair. It seemed to grow in a perfect neat triangle between her legs, natural but perhaps trimmed along the edges. Her vagina lay hidden behind two soft lips, which were glistening with her wetness.

"I can't believe it," I said.

"What?" Megan asked, sounding worried.

"You're so beautiful. I can't believe how beautiful and perfect you are."

"My pussy?"

"Yes, but not just that. Everything. I've dreamed about how you might look naked, I've thought about it so many times, and now that I finally see you I had no idea you were this perfect," I said.

"That's not true," she said, and slapped her belly.

As I pulled her panties down and off of her, I licked and kissed the area of her stomach that she had slapped, and another sigh escaped her lips. She instinctively spread her legs. I continued to lick, then explored lower, reaching her pubic hair and tracing a line over the mound of her vulva. My tongue travelled down her slit, and I savored her taste. I was tasting Megan! Her legs were wide open around my head, and I was tasting her! Her scent filled my nostrils. I gazed at her perfect vagina with its coating of soft hair, and I hoped I would remember forever exactly how she looked, tasted, and smelled. I took her labia in my mouth, sucking gently on her. I spread her vaginal lips with my fingers and stuck my tongue inside her. She pushed her pelvis into my face and I thrust my tongue as deep as I could. She tasted wonderful.

As I devoured her sweet vagina, Megan's breathing grew heavy. She lay back, and I briefly lifted my head from between her legs and saw that her eyes were closed and she was licking her lips. I turned my attention to her clitoris, first licking around it and then gently flicking it from side to side. I was feeling a little unsure about how to do this correctly, as Karen always kept my tongue away from her clit whenever possible. I've never understood why, but she seemed to want me to avoid giving her too much stimulation. I noticed immediately that Megan was not like this. She was encouraging me with her breathing and her soft moans, as well as little rhythmic thrusts of her pelvis against my face. I could have spent an hour down here, exploring and tasting her.

Despite my insecurity about stimulating Megan's clit, it appears I was doing it correctly. After a short while, she gasped and I was hit in the mouth with a hot stream of liquid. It took me a few moments to realize that Megan had just had an orgasm. She had been trying to stay as quiet as possible, so I didn't know it was happening until it did. She giggled and her face was red. I laughed as well and reached for the tissues on the nightstand.

"I'm so sorry, Jack, I didn't know that was going to happen," Megan said through her laughter.

"You couldn't tell?" I said, still laughing myself.

"To be honest, it's never happened like that before. It happened so fast, and I couldn't come up with the words to warn you in time."

"It's okay, sweetie," I said, wiping around my mouth with a tissue. I enjoyed the taste and the warmth of her juices on my face, and decided I would do my best to save this tissue in case I later wanted to be reminded of her scent. "You've had an orgasm before, right?"

"Yes, but not during sex," she said, somewhat sadly. "If I ever want one, I have to take care of it myself."

"Ah, I see," I said.

"No one's ever made me feel like that. You make me feel so special, and wanted," she said, gazing down at me.

"You are special, Megan. And you have no idea how much I want you," I said, crawling on top of her and bringing my face to within inches of hers. "Um, do you want me to wash my face, or is this okay?"

"Mmm, this is okay," she said, grinning, and kissed me. Her legs were still spread, and I played a little with her pubic hair and then stuck a finger inside her vagina. She moaned a little as my finger penetrated her, and I soon added another. Megan thrust her pelvis against my hand as I fingered her, and I sucked on her nipples while my fingers explored inside her. She was warm, so warm, inside, and my hard cock jumped when I thought of how her vagina would feel around it. One look in her face, however, indicated that this was working very well for her at the moment, so I fingered and suckled her, occasionally kissing her neck and earlobes. My index finger gently stroked her clit, and it didn't take long before another hot stream of her juices exited her body, this time hitting my hand. She was trying to stifle her gasps and moans, and I enjoyed looking in her face and seeing her obvious pleasure.

"Oh my God, Jack, you are doing such wonderful things to me," she said, still gasping. "I want to feel you inside me."

We kissed again and I rubbed my cock up and down her slit. It felt so good that I could have easily come just by the feeling of her wet labia and clit against the head of my cock. But I needed to be inside her. Memories, both new and old, were flooding my mind as the head of my cock entered her. I still could not comprehend that this girl, this woman, who I had spent so much time thinking of and longing for was now here with me, and my cock was sliding deep inside her. I pushed all the way in, feeling her wetness now on my testicles, and I stopped and gazed into her eyes.

"I love you, Jack. I wish I would have saved myself for you," she said softly.

"I love you, too, Megan. And you did save yourself for me in a way."

"Well, I couldn't resist that, darling. You make my pussy very happy," Megan said, grinning.

I began to thrust slowly, firmly. Megan bit her lip and then brought me close to her, breathing heavily in my ear. As my cock slid in and out of her, she nibbled on my earlobe and kissed my cheek and neck, then kissed me on the mouth. Her tongue played with mine and I began to thrust harder. I felt her fingernails running up and down my back, and the sensation was incredible.

For several minutes, our bodies moved together like that, sometimes fast and hard, and sometimes slowly and gently. Whenever I was at the verge of climax, she let me pause for a short time and we would kiss and she would hold me close to her. We both wanted this to last as long as we could make it, so we paced ourselves. The feeling of her tight vagina squeezing my cock was almost too much to bear, and I knew that soon I wouldn't be able to hold back.

"Um, do you want me to come inside you, or no?" I asked, feeling suddenly awkward. She giggled, apparently finding it cute.

"I want you to come inside me, Jack," she said, her voice hushed but intense.

After another minute, I was hurdling towards the brink. Megan was reading my face and knew I was getting close. It seemed as if she had been pacing herself as well, and when she saw that I was close to climax, she began to squeeze my cock with her internal muscles playfully.

"Oh my God, Megan. I'm going to come!"

"Me too!"

My last series of thrusts were hard and fast, and our bodies seemed to shudder simultaneously. My cock erupted and thick bursts of semen entered Megan's body. At the same moment, perhaps triggered by the feeling of my hot sperm inside her body, Megan had a third orgasm, this time drenching me. It felt amazing, and I held her tight as my cock continued to burst inside her. I collapsed onto her and we both giggled and held each other. We were trying our best to be as quiet as possible, but at this point I don't think either of us cared much if we were caught.

We lay there for several minutes, looking into each other's eyes and enjoying the feeling of our bodies lying against each other.

"I think I'm going to need a shower," Megan said. "Do you want to take one with me?"

"Of course," I said. "Do you want to sleep here with me?"

"Yes, but how will we get away with it with your parents downstairs? Will they be somewhere tomorrow?"

"They both work in the morning and afternoon, so unless my mom comes up here to kiss me goodbye, we should be okay," I said.

"Perfect," Megan said, smiling. Her face was radiant. I'm sure mine was as well.

Megan and I took a long, hot shower together. We scrubbed each other with soap, and she used some of my shampoo even though she didn't really need to wash her hair. I was still in a bit of a daze, even as I watched her soap up her smooth, pale body. She was so beautiful that I couldn't believe she was here in the shower with me. We kissed a few times but otherwise it was innocent, almost platonic.

We dried ourselves off and she borrowed one of my old shirts that my parents had never gotten rid of. She sat on my bed, wearing my shirt and her panties. Her still-wet hair fell in dark clumps in her face. We sat and talked about old times. We didn't talk at all about the sex we had just had, or whether or not we would stay in contact or ever see each other after we returned to our "normal" lives. I think we were avoiding the issue because it might make us sad and ruin such a beautiful evening. So we simply ignored it.

Megan and I talked for another hour or so, but by this point it was around 3:30 am and we knew we should get some sleep. I think we were both still too excited to sleep, but we would do our best.

We removed the comforter, which was still a little damp and messy, from the bed, and I watched as she crawled under the covers.

"Jack?" she said softly.

"Yes?"

"Can we pretend we're married?"

"I would like that," I said. We smiled at each other, and I turned off the lamp and got under the covers beside her. Megan faced me, and I grabbed her and held her close to me. In the dark, I kissed her softly on the lips.

"Goodnight, my bride," I said, and she sighed.

"Goodnight, my husband," she said.

We slept that night in each other's arms, happy, contented, and warm. It was amazing.

The next morning, we woke up to find that my parents were gone. She came downstairs with me and we ate a small breakfast. We decided to spend the entire day together, revisiting old hangouts and simply enjoying each other's company, because we knew we would both be leaving the next day. That day with Megan was perhaps the happiest day I've ever spent. We took a long walk around town, ate a nice dinner, and sat in the park and talked for hours. That night, we rented a motel room and made love twice, and afterwards slept peacefully in each other's arms again.

During our conversation at the park, we had decided we would do whatever we could to keep our secret relationship going. I think we both knew it would be difficult to ever meet in that way again, but, for once, I think both of us were filled with hope and some measure of happiness.

When we parted, we kissed deeply and promised each other that one day we would be together again. We would find a way to make it happen.

"I will always love you, Megan," I said, in the parking lot of a small diner where we ate one final breakfast together.

"And I will always love you, Jack," Megan said, and after one final kiss she got into her car, giving me a smile and a wave. I watched as she left the parking lot, and wished beyond anything that I could have gone with her. But now was not the right time. We would have to choose our moment. I returned to my car, missing her already but feeling happier than I had in years.

I blew a kiss in the direction she had gone.



Jack and Melissa - Bi



My last girlfriend was named Melissa and we lived in a little apartment in North Austin. We were both pretty adventurous sexually and liked to explore. To try an stimulate this, we came up with a rule that once a month each of us could insist that the other try something we wanted to do and the other person could not refuse. For example, on Super Bowl Sunday we invited about 15 to 20 people over to watch the game. Before they got there, I put all the attendee's names in a hat a pulled one out. I told Melissa that she had to try and get this person alone, give them a blow job and get some sort of video proof that it happened. She managed to pull that one off which was pretty incredible.

Our apartment complex was next door to a little neighborhood bar that pretty much was limited to beer and pool. But it was a fun spot and we headed down there at least once a week. On this occasion we ran into a work friend of Melissa's name Steve. He was a nice enough guy. The three of us shot pool and drank beers until closing time. We didn't want the part to end so we decided to head back to the apartment for a couple more beers.

Once we got to the apartment, I got Steve and myself some drinks and we started talking about how the Cowboys were doing. He was sitting on a small love seat to the right of me and I was on the big couch facing the TV. Behind the love seat was the walkway back to our bedroom. Melissa excused herself to go change. She said she couldn't stand the smell of smoke on her clothes and needed to get them off. Steve and I continued to chat for another couple of minutes and then I saw Melissa come back from the bedroom behind Steve. She had certainly changed clothes alright. She wasn't wearing a thing. She was no waif but wasn't big either. I described her as voluptuous. She had full breasts and a nice curvy ass. She was lightly tanned and completely shaved.

"Jack", she said. "Today is my day."

Steve didn't look too surprised so I guessed that he was in on it and this was a big set up. In fact, he was already taking his clothes off. He was in good shape, not that I was in bad shape but you could tell he worked out quite a bit. His abs were much more well defined than mine. His pants came off and I got a good look at his cock. He was starting to get aroused and it was already about 7 inches. Plus, I noticed that he had a big barbell right through the head. It looked like even his cock was working out. 

Melissa came around the couch and stood in front of me. I put down my beer and started to kiss her stomach. She had other ideas. She pulled my shirt up over my head and forcefully shoved me down on the couch. As soon as I was there, she picked up her leg and swung it over me so she was straddling my face. I didn't need her to tell me what to do next. I raised my head just slightly and starting licking her pussy. First her clit and then down her lips until I found her hole. I darted my tongue in and out and try to get it in there as far as I could. I could feel Melissa's hands on my chest so I was a little surprised when I felt my pants being removed. He got them off without any trouble and started sucking my already hard dick. Mine wasn't quite as big as his but it wasn't too shabby.

Steve was a really good cock sucker. I had never gotten a blow job from a man before but this really felt good. Maybe it helped to have a cock to know how to suck it. Either way, I was going to go with it. I felt Steve stop for a second and change positions. I felt his cock against mine. I couldn't see anything because I still had Melissa sitting right over the top of my face. She leaned forward and grabbed the two cocks and started to try and give us both a blow job at the same time. There was just too much manhood for that. She got the heads in but that was about all. 

She sat back up and I felt Steve stroke my cock with his hand. When Melissa was sitting back up, she grabbed my feet and pulled them up and tucked them behind her armpits. I felt a small amount of lube hit just below my balls and drip down to my asshole. Steve started massaging the area and then inserted his middle finger all the way up to the third knuckle. He rocked it back and forth. It was feeling really good. I started really giving Melissa's pussy a work out with my tongue. Steve removed his finger and I felt him take the head of his cock and run it up and down the crack of my ass. I was starting to get a little nervous now. I had never had anything bigger than a finger up there before. He started to push the head of his cock against my asshole looking for it to give way. I tensed up and really grabbed hold of Melissa's ass.

"Go slow Steve, it's his first time."

I realized that I was going to have to relax otherwise this might be a little uncomfortable. I refocused my concentration on Melissa's pussy. I sucked on her lit for all that it was worth. And I drug my tongue back and forth between her clit and her asshole. She seemed to notice my recommitment was moaning loudly now. She leaned forward and was licking Steve's nipple as he was slowly pushing his cock home. I felt the barbell go through and didn't know if I was going to explode or cum or both. Steve kept pushing it in little by little and then moving back and forth until my virgin asshole loosened up. He started pumping with a little more vigor which got Melissa over the edge. She had a huge orgasm right on my face. I drove my tongue in her pussy as soon as I felt it happening. I love her taste when she comes. Steve was fucking my asshole harder now. I was able to concentrate on it more now that Melissa had come. She had other plans again, though.

"It's time for me to get fucked. Jack, face the couch and get on your knees and bend over."

I complied. Steve got behind me a rammed his cock back in my ass. This time with much less concern. While he was fucking me from behind, Melissa climbed on my back. She laid down with her back on mine and her feet in the air. Steve grabbed her by the thighs and slid her closer to him. I felt him pull his cock out of my ass and he drove it right into Melissa's pussy. She squealed with delight. I could feel her getting fucked right on top of me but I couldn't see anything because my face was buried in the couch. Every time I would feel my asshole start to close back up, Steve would pull his cock out of Melissa and stick it back in my ass. This continued for a couple of minutes until I could tell Melissa was going to cum again. She dug her nails into my side so hard she drew blood and then rocked with other huge orgasm.

Steve pulled out of Melissa and less than gracefully pushed her off my back. He then flipped me over so I was on my back again and pushed his cock back in. Steve was really fucking me hard at this point. I was taking every bit of his seven inches. I could feel the barbell as he would pull back to where he almost pulled out and then he would drive it home. Each time a little bit harder. He had a look in his eye like he was almost there. Just about the time that I didn't think I could take anymore, he pulled out and shot his load all over my semi hard cock, balls and stomach. Melissa was coming out of her orgasmic stupor and saw Steve cum. She leaned over and started licking the cum off my stomach and balls. Then took my whole cock in her mouth to suck every last ounce of his juice off of me.

Melissa's mouth had restored my erection. I was harder than ever. I was still on my back on the couch now with my feet on the floor and not pinned behind my ears. Steve was breathing hard and sat back. Melissa got up and straddled me facing Steve. She slid down on my cock and started to gyrate her hips back and forth. She was all but insatiable, which was something I loved. She put her hands on my knees and tilted herself forward. This time she could raise and lower her pussy all the way up and down my shaft. She was doing this very slowly, I am sure just to torture me. I had finally had enough and I reached forward and pulled her so her back was against my chest. I grabbed her ample tits and held her in place while I fucked her hard. Steve had caught his breathe and had gotten his tongue involved. He would lick the entire length of my cock as I plunged it deeper and deeper into Melissa. I started to cum and pulled out just at the last minute. My cock was right between Melissa's pussy lips and Steve's mouth when I blew. Steve immediately pulled my cock in his mouth so he could get as much of my juice as possible. Then he licked what was left off of Melissa's pussy.

At this point, we were all a mess of sweat, beer, smoke and cum. Quite a combination. We all got up and went to take a group shower. We got lathered up and mostly clean, but there was something I wanted to do. I grabbed Steve's giant cock and started to blow him. I had never tried it but this was the night for such things. I don't know if I was doing it right, but he didn't seem to mind. I sent Melissa to go get the lube. I figured while we were in there, I should take the opportunity to pay Steve back and fucked him mercilessly in his ass. Melissa brought the lube but didn't get back in the shower. I bent Steve over and lubed up my cock. His asshole was much more agreeable than mine. I was fucking him harder and harder. But the harder I pounded the more he seemed to like it. It didn't take long and I came all over his asshole. I got down on my knees behind him and licked the cum as it came dripping out of his ass. We fished the shower and headed to the bedroom.

I was exhausted. So was Melissa it turned out. She was already asleep. Steve climbed in on one side of the bed and I got in the other putting Melissa in the middle. It didn't take long for me to fall asleep. By the time I woke up the next morning, Steve had already left. Melissa and I nursed our hangovers and I started thinking of how I was going to top this for my night.