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A New Direction

By: Pussyrider



My life was at a low ebb in the middle of last year. My marriage had just broken up – I didn't really even understand why, my wife seemed to just lose interest in the whole thing – I was sick of my job, and I couldn't see a future for myself. At 28 I felt totally useless and washed up. On a whim I walked into work one day and told my boss to shove his job, and my 82-grand salary, up his arse. Fortunately I'd managed to make my own stake in savings and investments. Joanna and I didn't have kids and she was earning almost as much as me, so I didn't need to worry about funding her. We'd agreed to sell the house – she was moving back into her parents' sprawling place in Hampstead; and an estate agent mate of mine put me onto a cheap flat (they do exist, even in London, if you know where to look). Although I needed to work, I decided I could afford to take a job I actually might enjoy.

I'd always liked books, I mean quality ones, and I fell on my feet. I was meandering down Charing Cross Road one day – the place is world famous for its bookshops – and got talking to the owner of one particular place. It was actually down a rather quaint alleyway just off the main road, and typical of many such establishments around there – small, a bit dark, overcrowded with books, a bit dusty and with a pleasantly musty smell. The guy's name was Richard, and we chatted about some of the beautiful leather bound antiquarian editions he kept behind leaded glass in an old cabinet. When I mentioned in passing that I was between jobs, he raised an eyebrow and smiled. "Well John, I don't suppose you'd like to work with me would you?" He laughed softly at my look of amazement. "After all, you obviously know a bit about books, and I've been on my own here for a few months now, a second pair of hands would be quite handy. I couldn't pay you a fortune, but I'm sure we could work something out. Seriously, think about it." He pushed a business card into my hand.

Slightly dazed by the offer I nodded and said I would. I went for a pub lunch in Covent Garden and, midway through my sandwich, I thought, "Well, why not? I think I'd like that sort of work, and Richard seems a nice enough bloke. He's obviously gay, but that doesn't bother me. And anyway, I can always see how I like it for a couple of weeks and chuck it if it's not my thing." I phoned Richard there and then, and we agreed I'd go back and discuss it with him. Half an hour after the little bell over his shop door tinkled, it was all signed, sealed and agreed. I started my new job the next day.

Richard was in his late 40s, well over six feet tall (I'm just under six, myself), thin but wiry. He had blond hair that was just beginning to turn to silver, an aristocratic sort of face, and an accent which suggested an education at Eton and Oxford, or something similar. He was very easygoing, and dressed casually in a baggy shirt, a moth-eaten cardigan and brown corduroy trousers. I wondered about my initial judgement of his sexuality when I saw the photo of his daughter he kept on this desk – a beautiful girl, proudly wearing mortarboard and gown and clutching her degree certificate – but not for long. He wasn't in the least bit camp, but there were just little things about his manner, and certain clients and friends who visited the shop, that convinced me I was right about him.

My duties were wide and varied: greeting customers, selling and, in time, buying books, humping piles of the things up and down the basement stairs, cataloguing stock, and dealing on the phone with business contacts all over the world. I liked my new working environment, and I quickly grew to like Richard. When I started getting involved in a bit of financial accounting, I couldn't see how he could possibly be making a profit out of the place, but that wasn't the point. I gathered he had independent wealth, and the business was simply a labour of love – and he really did love it.

It was after I'd been there perhaps a couple of months that I started to realise that Richard was, well, attracted to me. Again, it was small things that suggested it: the frequency with which he would touch my shoulder or my back, a certain softness in the way he smiled at me, the way his hand lingered if our fingers touched when one of us passed something to the other. Another bloke might just have thought that the older man was taking a fatherly interest in him; but, somehow, I knew. The thing that surprised me, when I thought about it, was that it didn't really bother me. I mean I wasn't that way inclined, I'd had plenty of girlfriends before I got married, and I'd never thought about another man like that. And yes, if I'm honest, if I'd been told six months earlier that I'd be working in close proximity with a guy who fancied me, I probably would have felt a little uncomfortable. 

Instead, I suppose I felt rather flattered. Although I've got a sturdy body, I've always had a delicate face, which girls seemed to moon over in my youth, a fact of which I took maximum advantage. When I first met Joanna, she dubbed me 'pretty boy'. So, in a vain sort of way, I could understand Richard's interest in me. And I was genuinely growing fond of him – as a friend, and an employer. After the emotional turmoil I'd been going through for months, it felt nice to be settled in a tranquil, satisfying work situation, and, I'll be honest, it felt nice too to feel that someone cared for me, about me.

The day things really started to change was the Friday when Joanna phoned me. I was sitting cataloguing a set of old manuscripts that Richard had bought as a job lot at a book fair. Most of them were hardly worth a glance, but in among them were one or two gems. I felt my mobile buzzing against my thigh, and answered to hear the voice that used made my heart lift not so very long before. Now, it immediately sounded waspish and nasty. She quickly got down to business – she had changed her mind about the house, she wanted to keep it, and she wanted me to accept only a quarter of its worth in settlement. If I kicked up the slightest problem, her bitch of a solicitor would do her best to screw me for every penny I had. Joanna's 'daddy' could easily afford the huge legal costs which would result from a battle, but both the time and the expense involved would hit me hard.

I was stunned. It was like an emotional whirlwind engulfing me, out of a clear blue sky. I had no idea where it was coming from. The more I tried to argue, to make her be reasonable, the nastier and more vindictive she got. By the time she hung up on me I was pale and trembling. I felt as if I couldn't breathe. Richard had caught the tail end of the conversation, and came over to me with a look of concern on his face. "Are you all right Johnno?" I swung my chair round to try to tell him what had just happened – and I couldn't. My throat was constricted, and the more I tried to fight back the emotion the more it welled up in me. Suddenly, to my own horror, I took a deep gulp of breath, and burst into wracking sobs, huge tears erupting from my eyes. God I felt embarrassed! I hadn't cried since I was a kid, and I just couldn't stem the flow. Joanna had never told me why she'd simply had enough of our marriage after what I had thought were four happy years, and I think I had been bottling up my emotions for months. Now they all came tumbling out at once.

Richard wasn't embarrassed though. Without a second thought he took two steps to close the gap between us, put his arms around my shoulders and pulled me to him. Totally wracked with misery, I buried my head in his chest and howled like a baby, my shoulders heaving. Richard just held me, murmuring, "Shh, shh, that's it John, let it all out, it's doing you the world of good. I've been there, I know what it's like." I don't know how long we stayed in that position, me crying and Richard standing over me with his arms around me. I think we actually lost a customer – I was sure I heard the shop bell go, and the poor sod probably took one look at us and fled. I was aware of what I was doing, but I didn't feel in the least bit self-conscious about it. It was the first real human contact I'd had since weeks before my marriage imploded, and it felt so warm and comforting I just let myself submerge in it.

As my sobs started to subside, Richard released me for a moment. Almost instantly he was back, having wheeled his chair across to mine. He wedged a handkerchief into my fist, then he reached out to me and placed his hands on my shoulders, from in front of me. I stiffened for a moment, but then he started to work his long, strong fingers into my muscles. The effect was amazing; as he kneaded my tense shoulders I began to feel myself relax, and I felt the warmth of his hands channel down my back. I even edged my chair a little closer to him, to give him a better hold. After five minutes of his massage I actually felt calm, more so than I would have imagined was possible. 

Richard gradually released my shoulders and withdrew his hands. Then, with one finger, he wiped a tear from my cheek – a tender gesture. Giving me a sympathetic smile, he half-whispered, "That's better, old feller. I'm sure you feel much the better for that." I wasn't sure if he meant my emotional breakdown or his remedial treatment, but I nodded and did my best to smile back. He tried to suggest I take the rest of the day off, but I refused. Apart from the fact that he was paying me, the thought of returning to my lonely little flat after the day I was having chilled me. I did move my work into a storeroom at the back of the shop though, and tried to bury myself in it for the rest of the day.

As I was leaving that evening, Richard put a hand on my shoulder. "I wondered if you fancied coming for a drink John? You certainly look as if you need one."

I was very tempted, but I shook my head. "Thanks Richard, but I think what I need is the cool night air to clear my head. Another time, maybe?" He smiled and nodded.

In fact I did go for a drink – a maudlin, self-pitying solo binge, the sort where your only aim is to get as pissed as possible as quickly as possible. I didn't even remember getting home, but I woke up at lunchtime on Saturday, slouched in an uncomfortable position on my couch. I sat up, my head aching, my stomach aching with hunger, my arm sore from having been trapped under me during the night. After I'd stood under the shower for abut 40 minutes and forced myself to eat a plate of scrambled eggs, I decided I needed to get out of the flat before it started to feel like a prison cell. I called various of my friends, but they were all busy with their wives, children, girlfriends...eventually I went for a miserable walk on my own in the local park. All I saw was happy young couples walking arm in arm, laughing, fathers playing on the swings with their children, as I had once expected to, and so on. By the time I got home I felt even more depressed than before, and did the stupidest thing I could think of, cracked open a half empty bottle of whisky I'd had for ages and proceeded to finish the job on it. 

When I ambled into the shop on Monday, Richard looked up at me from The Times over his half-moon spectacles. Laying the paper down, his face full of concern, he said, "Are you sure you should be here, old son? You look awful." I told him I was fine, I'd just had a bit of a rough weekend. He sat me down, rested his hand on my shoulder sympathetically, then made me a mug of coffee, and told me to just sit there and get myself together until I was ready to start my day. It had been a long time since I'd appreciated anyone as much as I appreciated him over the next couple of days. He was so kind, so understanding and sympathetic, so caring. When I had to have several conversations with my own legal advisor in a single day, Richard simply dismissed my profuse apologies with a wave of his hand, a warm smile and a murmured, "Just do what you have to do Johnno." When I went into the shop on the Wednesday, depressed by a snotty letter I'd received from Joanna's solicitor, he was there for me. I just felt so incredibly warm towards him.

At lunchtime that day, I was surprised to see Richard hanging a notice on the door which said 'back at 2 o'clock'. We normally went to lunch back-to-back so we didn't have to close up at lunchtime. When I questioned his action he perched his backside on the corner of my desk and smiled. "You look as if you need a drink old feller; and a sympathetic ear. Come on." I didn't argue with either observation, and we made our way to my favourite Covent Garden pub. I didn't want to get sloshed during my lunch break, so I just ordered a lager shandy; Richard opted for a port and lemon. We sat in the tiny bar, dating from Tudor times with its low ceilings, sloping walls and dark corners, and over a plate of sandwiches I poured out my heart to him: how badly Joanna was treating me, how miserable I was, how trapped and lonely I felt in my little flat, and how uncared for by humanity in general.

Richard listened quietly, nodding occasionally, chuckling at the rare appropriate points. By the time I finished he actually seemed to have tears forming in his eyes. He cupped his hand over mine on the table. "Oh, you poor old love. If there's anything I can do to help you" – the hand squeezed mine momentarily then relaxed, still resting on mine – "anything at all, just let me know. I mean it John. Anything." Our eyes locked for a moment. There was a time when I would have withdrawn my hand from another man's touch. Now, it just felt so comforting, and I felt so cared for by this sweet guy, that I enjoyed the feel of his warm flesh against mine, and smiled gratefully.

That afternoon we were quite busy with customers, and I soon worked off the small amount of alcohol I'd consumed. Late in the day, Richard was stocking some shelves at the back when I needed to check something with him. The rush of clientele had eased, and the shop was wonderfully quiet, the traffic along Charing Cross Road a distant buzz. As I turned into the row of shelves where Richard was working he said, "Ah Johnno, pass me that Blake will you?" I lifted the volume of poetry, but as I passed it over it slipped between our hands and fell to the floor. 

We both crouched at the same moment to retrieve it and our heads clashed lightly together. Our eyes met, and we rose slowly, neither of us breaking the eye contact. Suddenly, I was incredibly aware of how close Richard was to me. Our faces were inches apart – I could actually feel his breath on my cheek, smell his expensive, subtle aftershave. I could hear my heart pounding in my ears. Then he cupped a hand to my cheek, leant in and kissed me. I felt numb, entirely unsure how to react, or how I wanted to react. But my body reacted. My heart continued to pound, my eyes closed, and I could feel my cock beginning to stiffen.

After perhaps three seconds Richard pulled away with a small gasp. I opened my eyes to see his face frozen in a look of shock and embarrassment. He stepped back hurriedly and, tumbling over his words, blurted, "Oh God John, I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to do that. God, I don't know what came over me, please forgive me old chap, I'm so, so sorry." 

He seemed more upset than I was; in fact, I didn't know how I felt about what had just happened. I said quietly, "It's okay Richard, really, just...just forget it, okay?" He nodded, still looking haunted by his action. For the remaining hour or so before we closed we worked at opposite ends of the shop, not looking at each other, not speaking. As I pulled on my jacket we exchanged a muted goodbye. In the few months I'd known him, I'd never seen Richard look miserable – he did then. Sighing, I turned back to him. "Richard, really, it's not a big issue, it just happened. Just forget about it. I'll see you tomorrow. Cheerio." He smiled weakly and nodded.

But on the bus home I couldn't forget about it. I had never felt more confused in my entire life. I wasn't gay, I knew that; I mean, I'd never so much as held a bloke's hand before, let alone let him snog me. I could still smell his aftershave though; still feel his soft lips on mine. I had missed human warmth for so long, and now it seemed it was there for the taking, if I wanted it. As I re-lived that astonishing moment again in my mind, over and over, I felt an uncomfortable sensation wash over me, as I realised I was getting a hard-on again.

It was at about 2 a.m. that I came to a decision. I really wasn't gay. I was sure of it. But Richard had simply made a mistake, probably fuelled by an unwise port and lemon, and one mistake was no reason to give up a job I liked, with a man I liked, and respected, and who had been so kind to me, miserable bastard that I was. I would simply go into work tomorrow – well, today at that point – and act as if nothing had happened. Richard wasn't stupid, and he wasn't crude, he'd get the hint.

The atmosphere between us was brittle on the Thursday. Richard still seemed upset by what he'd done and, without actually saying the word, every action of his towards me, every word he did say, screamed apology. I tried to act entirely normally, although I don't suppose I did. By mid-afternoon I felt genuine sympathy for Richard over the pain he was inflicting on himself, and a strange sort of guilt, as if I was the real cause of it, even though I had been entirely passive in what had happened. When I made him a cup of tea, in the tiny kitchen behind the shop, he seemed effusively grateful. Wanting to reassure him, I rested my hand on his shoulder, and mumbled, "That's all right Richard. Everything's all right, really." He smiled up at me with puppy dog eyes.

On Friday he seemed more his usual self, and greeted me cheerily. It was a quiet day, and we both spent a fair amount of time sitting at our desks poring over ledgers. I kept finding myself distracted though. Without realising it, I would sit staring towards Richard, taking in his fine cornflower hair, the noble lines of his face, his long, slim, artistic fingers. He seemed to notice my scrutiny a couple of times, and glanced up and smiled at me. Sitting on the bus that evening I felt totally, utterly confused over how I felt about him. I was fond of him, of that there was no doubt – but in what way? What were my true feelings, and how deep did they run? Was I gay after all? Did just admiring another man, and recognising his inherent attractiveness, his easy charm, did that make me a queer? I decided I really needed to get out a bit more, start trying to find a few casual one-night stands with the opposite sex, give my libido a shot in the arm. But I just couldn't raise the enthusiasm for the idea. I got home profoundly wishing I hadn't finished that bottle of whisky so recklessly.

I didn't usually work on Saturdays, but we had agreed a couple of weeks earlier that we would close up for the day and work on a stock inventory and valuation. We both arrived early, dressed in our shabbiest clothes, and bought bacon rolls from a local coffee bar before we got started. Richard seemed quite cheerful, chirpy even. I was glad, and it buoyed me up. The work was hot and sweaty, dirty and tiring, as we humped books from one place to another, and made notes on increasingly grubby scrap pads. Our throats quickly became clogged from the clouds of dust we were raising, and we didn't say much, just exchanged the odd comment about what to do next, smiled at each other across the stock piles, and helped ourselves liberally to cups of tea and coffee.

Mid-afternoon, over one such cup, we had our first real conversation of the day. Richard chuckled wearily, casting his eyes over the mayhem which still ruled about us. Then he turned to me. "Thanks for doing this Johnno, you're working like a demon. Above and beyond the call of duty, I'd say." I shook my head and raised my hands in protest. Richard continued. "Look, I was thinking. I was going to give you a bonus for this; and I still will, of course. But how about, I treat you to dinner, then we go back to my place, put on some good jazz and get good and drunk?" Before I could respond, he added quickly, "The spare room's made up anyway, and you'd be more than welcome to stay. I mean it John, it's just dinner, I'm not suggesting anything else." He stood, his face quite serious and just a little concerned. "Really. I'd like you to regard me as a friend, not just a work colleague, and you seem as if you could do with a few genuine friends at the moment."


A New Direction



I stared into my coffee with no idea how I wanted to answer, or what I wanted to do. Then, thinking of the grime on my face, my hands, my clothes, I said, "I'm not exactly dressed for eating out. Besides, I've got something in for tonight."

He chuckled again, mirthlessly this time. "What, microwave moussaka? Or the menu from an Indian take-away, maybe? In that cold, dank little flat of yours?" The comment was like a kick in the balls. He knew I was growing to hate my home. And apart from the fact that it was mushroom stroganoff, not moussaka, he was bang on the mark. I glanced up at him. I suppose he read my weakening resolve in my face. "As for the state of you, you brought a change of clothes didn't you? And we can sponge down in the kitchen. I'm not suggesting we dine at the Ritz." He placed a hand gently on my shoulder. "Really John – wouldn't you rather have the company of a good, genuine friend this evening? Unless of course..."

Although he didn't say it, I knew what he'd meant. Unless of course I didn't trust him. I felt an unaccustomed warmth slowly spreading through my body, outwards from his hand. I placed my hand over his, and met his eyes. "Yes. Yes, I would Richard, thank you." I squeezed his fingers with mine. I saw a slight reaction in his eyes, but then he smiled, passed on the squeeze to my shoulder, then pulled away and clapped his hands. "Come on then, let's get this finished. I reckon another hour or so should do it." 

It was more like two hours; but finally, weary but satisfied with our day's work, I stripped down to my underpants, ran a wet, soapy flannel over myself, and put my head under the tap long enough to dislodge most of the dust from my hair. Then I dressed and waited outside in the cool of the evening while Richard took his turn. We went to a classy Greek restaurant in Saint Martins Lane and had a wonderful moussaka – Richard's little joke. We washed it down with a couple of glasses of retsina each, and left the place feeling in fine fettle. I took a few deep breaths of air while Richard flagged down a cab then, giggling like schoolkids, we piled into the back.

I settled back into the worn leather seat of the cab, and watched the bright lights of central London drift past me. Richard stared listlessly out of the window on the other side. It was a fair distance to his place – ironically, not too far away from Joanna's parents' home. As my meal settled, I was beginning to feel nervous, despite Richard's assurance that he had no hidden agenda in inviting me to his home for the night. I wasn't sure how I felt about that. I wasn't sure if I wanted something to happen between us; I wasn't sure what. A couple of days earlier I had been sure that I wasn't gay; now, the only thing I was sure of was that each time he touched me I felt a stirring of sexual arousal which scared me a little. Oh yes, I trusted Richard all right – I just wasn't sure I trusted myself.

In the darkened cab I let my hand flop onto the seat between us. The outside of my hand brushed accidentally against his. There it was again – that slow rising of heat in my groin, just from his touch, as blood flowed into my cock and I became aware just what an effect our closeness was having on me. I didn't think about what I did next. I simply disengaged my brain, and let my hand decide for itself. Slowly, inch by inch, it crept forwards, and rested on his hand on the seat. I didn't look, but I was aware of Richard turning to stare at me. He steepled his fingers, and mine intertwined with them. We spent the last few minutes of the journey like that, our hands linked, both of us staring sightlessly out of our side of the cab, each of us hardly daring to breathe.

When we arrived at Richard's home, a large Edwardian townhouse, the tension between us was almost a physical presence. Not looking at me he unlocked the door and stood aside to allow me to enter. Flicking on the hall light, he busied himself with removing his coat, then taking my jacket and hanging it up. Then, giving me a reassuring smile, he said, "I don't know about you, but I still feel a bit grubby. I'm going to grab a shower in the downstairs bathroom. You can either make yourself at home in the lounge, pick out a record, or you can use the en suite bathroom upstairs." I nodded and, hardly able to find my voice, said I'd appreciate a shower too. In moments he brought me towels, warm from the airing cupboard, together with a spare towelling bathrobe and a pair of comfy slippers. "Next floor up, first door on the right."

I walked through Richard's bedroom, glancing at the huge bed – a king-size. It felt very strange, stepping into a bath off someone else's bedroom, in a house I didn't know, to use the shower fitment. The building seemed eerily quiet, and I welcomed the soft hiss of the water. I took my time, soaping myself thoroughly, allowing the warm water to soothe my aching muscles. As I stepped out of the bath, dripping onto a deep pile carpet, I heard a slow '20s rag tune drift up the stairs. I became increasingly nervous as I towelled myself and pulled on the bathrobe. What was I about to go downstairs to – a friend to get respectably drunk with; or, just possibly, a new lover – a new homosexual lover? Which did I want it to be? I still didn't know. I tied the belt on the robe and, slowly, made my way down the stairs, following the sound of a weeping clarinet into Richard's parlour. He had lit it subtly, with just a couple of table lamps providing a muted glow, supplemented by a very realistic looking flame effect gas fire. I noticed the light glint off the record that was playing – how typical that Richard would still opt for crackly vinyl, not an anodyne, sanitised, too perfect CD.

Richard was sitting on a brown leather sofa, dressed in a Paisley pattern silk dressing gown, his feet encased in heelless leather slippers. On a low coffee table stood two crystal glasses, containing a clear, brown liquor. Richard was lounging back on the sofa, his eyes closed as he soaked in the music. As I entered the room his eyes opened. He smiled, and gestured with a hand towards a big leather armchair, a partner to the sofa, on the other side of the table. I hesitated, then slowly, deliberately, made my way around the table, and sat on the sofa, a foot of space between us. Richard pulled himself into an upright position, his arm along the back of the sofa, and our eyes locked. After a few seconds – or possibly a few hours – I awkwardly shuffled myself closer to him. My hand, also resting on the back of the seat, brushed against his. As in the taxi, I entwined my fingers with his. His brow furrowed. His voice barely a whisper, he asked me, "John, are you sure? I meant it about just a drink and separate bedrooms. There's no pressure here, no expectation whatsoever..."

I interrupted him. "I know." I inclined closer to him. I could feel the heat of his body, smell again his aftershave; just like once before, our faces were very close together.

Richard still looked troubled. "Johnno, I..."

I placed a finger across his lips. "Richard, I know what I'm doing, what I want to do. It's okay, truly."

He leaned towards me – our lips were now an inch apart. He breathed, "And you're really sure about this?"

"Yes," I lied.

He inclined his face upwards, and kissed my eyebrow. He ran his fingertips softly down my cheek – my skin burned where he had touched me. Then he pulled back slightly, inspecting my face for a reaction. I gave him a watery smile. He leaned in again and kissed my cheek. I surprised us both by turning my head, so that his lips slipped onto mine. He took my face between his hands, and increased the pressure of his lips. Instinctively I opened my mouth. He hesitated a split second, then I felt his tongue stroking the inside of my lower lip, tracing my teeth. His arms slipped around my neck. Suddenly overwhelmed with emotion, I flung my own arms around him and pulled him tight to me. Immediately the kiss became more passionate: his tongue surged past my teeth, and toyed with mine. The fingertips of one hand closed around my earlobe, caressed it. I felt myself gradually sliding down on the sofa, into a reclining position, until John was almost on top of me. 

He broke the kiss and took a deep breath, then gazed into my eyes with concern again. "Okay?", he whispered. I nodded and pressed my lips back onto his, my tongue invading his mouth this time. For the first time in months I felt very sexually aroused by another person – in fact, more so than I had for some time before my marriage ended. I felt my doubts drifting away, with the sound of Luis Armstrong's cornet. Now, for the first time in my life, I knew, I really knew. We lay there smooching for several minutes, exchanging no words, I holding tight to Richard's waist, he with one arm around my neck and one hand stroking my hair and face. After a while, Richard raised his head. "If you want us to just stay here, doing this, that's fine. I don't want things to move too fast between us, I want you to be absolutely sure John."

I smiled weakly and shook my head. "I don't want us to stay here any longer Richard. I want us to go to bed. And before you ask again, yes, I am sure." Without a further word he stood, helped me to my feet and, his hand resting lightly on my elbow, led me up the stairs. I felt light-headed, almost as if this whole episode was a dream. At the bedroom door we paused and kissed again, our arms around each other's necks, leaning against the door jamb. Then, with a small smile, Richard nodded and we stepped inside. He closed the door behind us, and leant against it, watching me. Suddenly feeling self-conscious, I kicked off my slippers, unbelted the robe and let it slide off my shoulders and down my arms, then slipped quickly beneath the duvet. His eyes locked on my face, Richard slowly moved to the other side of the bed and sat, his back to me. He slipped off his gown, swung up his legs and he was lying next to me. I thought he was naked too, but I caught only a glimpse of pale flesh.

I lay on my back, my skin goose-pimpled even though I wasn't cold. I felt as nervous as a virgin awaiting the caress of her – or his – first lover. Richard rolled onto his side, facing me, his body perhaps a foot from mine. He reached out a hand, tentatively, and rested it on my chest, his fingers trailing slowly through my mat of hair. I glanced sideways and noticed his chest was hairless. I trembled for am moment as his other hand settled on my lower belly, below my navel, inches from my semi-erect cock. After a few seconds of immobility on both our parts, I suppressed a gasp as I felt one finger stroke along the top of my shaft, from tip to base. I turned my face towards Richard, then my entire body. I knew at that moment that I really wanted this man, maybe as much as he wanted me. In a swirl of emotions, the realisation shocked me, scared me a little – and excited me.

Richard glided towards me under the duvet and, with a slight awkwardness, we closed into an embrace. As we cuddled, I felt for the first time another man's stiff cock brush against my own developing erection. I initiated the next kiss: a long, lingering, tender one, my tongue massaging his. He slowly rolled me onto my back, still kissing me, his body half on top of mine. He pressed his face to my neck, and I heard him breathe "Oh God, if you only knew how many times lately I've imagined this." I lay flat on my back, my heart pounding, my chest rising and falling rapidly. Richard lowered his head, and I let out a long, sighing breath as his mouth closed over my nipple, his tongue stroking it. Nobody had ever done that to me before, and I was surprised at how erotic it felt. A moment later his hand closed around my circumcised cock. He didn't move the hand, just held me, firmly but tenderly. His mouth moved down my body, towards the hand – across my navel, then my lower stomach. I sensed my breathing deepening and becoming ragged. I heard myself moan as his lips closed over my penis. 

Women had certainly done that for me plenty of times, but never as skilfully, as sensually; or perhaps I simply desired Richard more than I had them. My moan developed into a long groan, almost as if I was in pain, as he slid my prick further into his mouth, his tongue exploring my length, rimming the tip. His hand curled around my balls, his fingers stroking them. I felt the most exquisite warmth spreading through my loins, my belly, my chest, and into my mind. Then suddenly, catching me by surprise, I found myself sobbing and writhing as I gushed months of pent-up frustrations into his mouth. He stroked my stomach until my tremors subsided, still gently lapping at my cock. Then he took a long swig of water from a glass beside the bed, then kissed me, hungrily, searchingly. I responded with enthusiasm. As our lips parted he nuzzled my face, his hands resting against my cheeks, and whispered, "Oh Christ, I am so in love with you Johnno."

Struggling to find my voice, I responded with words I would once have thought would never pass my lips: "I love you too Richard."

As we held each other I realised, dopily, that I had yet to touch him. I stroked his nipple with my fingers, then dropped my hand. His breath caught as my knuckles brushed his cock. Then I echoed what he'd done for me. I kissed his throat, sucked his nipple, closed my fist around his length. I shuffled my hand slowly, rhythmically up and down, pumping his foreskin. He pressed his lips to the top of my head, stroked my hair, cupped a hand around my jaw. He had already been quite stiff, but as I caressed him I could feel his scorching prick getting harder by the moment. He clamped his hand around my wrist, staying my movements. He whispered, "John darling, I want you, I want to have you. Can I?" Not looking him in the face, my head still resting on his chest, I nodded.

He pulled his body from under me and manoeuvred me to lay on my front, his chest resting on my back, his hip beside mine. His hand slipped between my legs and massaged my balls. Instinctively I opened my thighs wider. Gently he eased me onto my knees, my weight resting on my forearms. His hand left my scrotum and I heard tearing, then a soft wet sound, and knew he was donning a condom. A small part of my brain marvelled at my tranquillity as I readied myself for what in my old life I would have regarded as the ultimate taboo; what I was now, at the very least, happy to accept as the assertion of my commitment to my lover.

I felt a hand rest lightly on my back. I tensed as something pressed between my buttocks, then realised it was his fingers, smearing a cold, wet gel into my passage. The hand shifted alongside the other onto my lower back. I felt his slick cock resting between my cheeks. "Okay Johnno?" Gazing down at the bed, I nodded. I felt a sharp sensation as he pressed into me, then a surge, then his warm thighs pressing against mine as he entered me to the hilt. I could feel the hairs on his balls tickling me. He paused for a few moments, his fingers kneading my back and buttocks, allowing me to get used to the feel of him inside me. The he started to fuck me in earnest. 

I'd had no idea what to expect, but I felt an unaccustomed ease, almost a sense of release, as if he had identified an itch deep inside me which he was now scratching for me. He screwed me with long, smooth strokes, going deep each time, his fingers still stroking my back. My body began to push back at him with each of his thrusts, increasing the sensation of penetration. I felt that same comforting warmth spreading through me, and curled my fingers around my own cock as it began to stiffen once again. We both gasped and shook as Richard came inside me, into the condom, with a series of final, powerful thrusts. As he carefully withdrew I slumped onto my back, and he fell on me, smothering my face with kisses and whispering his love for me.

We both went to the bathroom after that, then we slept, Richard's arms around my waist, my back to him. I woke in the dawn light, and felt his warm chest resting against me, his long, soft cock nestling between my buttocks, his knees tucked into the hollows of my own. I smiled and snuggled against him, mildly amazed at my own certainty in the situation in which I found myself. As I thought about that, I realised I was ready to take the next, once unthinkable, step. Easing myself from Richard's embrace, I turned to face him, slipped my head under the duvet and sucked his cock into my mouth.

His body twitched convulsively and he grunted, then his fingers lazily curled into my hair as my licking and sucking drew him out of sleep. He rolled onto his back and my mouth moved with him. His prick felt rubbery at the tip, beyond that like a sheath of fine suede wrapped around an iron rod. I found I enjoyed the feel and the taste of it on my tongue, and pressing into my cheek, and guzzled greedily. Richard groaned his pleasure, and a hand slipped from my hair to my face, stroking the cheek which bulged with his manhood. I curled a hand around his balls, pumping the base of his shaft with my other hand. I slipped my hand from his scrotum to between his legs, stroked a finger along his perineum – he liked that, twitched and gasped – then I reached further, working the finger, then a second, into his back passage, scooched them around. He squirmed his bum on my fingers, and his groaning increased. I had been prepared to go the whole distance, but just before he came Richard eased my mouth off his cock and urged my pumping hand to cover its full length. I finished him off that way, my fingers still in his anal passage. It was like trying to hold onto a bucking bronco as his hips jerked and a fountain of jizz shot from him.

I stayed until after lunch. Richard sucked me off again, while I sat in the leather armchair in the parlour, then I went back to my own flat. We had agreed that I would take a change of clothes to the shop with me on Monday, and would return with Richard to his home, and his bed, that evening. I had a long soak in my bath in the afternoon, and phoned Richard that evening to reassure him of my love. I can't pretend I didn't do a bit of soul-searching during the night; but I woke on Monday sure in my own mind that I didn't regret anything which had happened, or which would happen from then on.

Richard was nervous when I arrived at work, worried that I may indeed have rationalised recent events into no more than an emotional aberration. When I kissed him, and stroked his cheek, he hugged me to him, tightly, and whispered, "Good morning, my love." We worked quietly that day, between customers, exchanging foolish smiles and pausing occasionally to touch, hold and kiss. I felt loved and cared for – not a familiar sensation in my life for a while before that.

In bed that evening I offered to massage Richard. I perched astride him, my scrotum resting on his bare buttocks. As my hands worked his back my cock reacted, gradually stiffening. When Richard heard me ripping open a condom he glanced over his shoulder and husked, "Oh God, yes my darling." I lay along the length of his back and pushed forcefully into him, fucking him long and hard, and came gloriously. Later he had me again, but from the front this time. My legs rested on his shoulders, my rampant prick between us, rubbing against out bodies. As Richard came he leant down to me and we kissed. His fingers stroked against my dick, and instantly I showered both our bellies with my juice.

Richard and I have lived together for eight months now. His daughter spent Christmas with us, and we got on brilliantly – she thinks I'm good for him. Joanne knows about us, but I don't give a shit what she thinks. She backed down over the house, not that it really matters. I don't know whether I'm gay, bisexual or what. I've come to recognise that such labels are meaningless. The only thing that means anything to me is that I love Richard, and I know how deeply he loves me – more, I think, than Joanna did even in the early days of our romance and marriage. More than in any previous relationship, I feel content, cherished, and more at peace than I can ever remember. I don't think you can ask more of a life partner than that.



A New Direction



Commander Jennifer Fielding was tired. No, she was totally exhausted but duty called and she responded as she always had. It was just another routine day in the life of a Naval Aviator and then all at once it wasn't. She had seen some heavy shit in her twenty plus year career but this day looked like it would take first place in the shit category. Her take off had been delayed for almost an hour while the mechanics ran down a problem in her bird. She also had a discipline problem to work on when she returned to the ship. Two of her sailors had decided they loved each other and had been caught doing the dirty in a paint locker. At least she was lucky enough that they had been of opposite sexes. Still, after her investigation she would have to spend several hours at Captains Mast and taking care of the assorted paperwork.

Finally Commander Fielding had been able to take off on her first flight of the day. On the way back to the ship she planned to turn this flight into a check flight and possibly training mission for her copilot. She was flying off the USS Enterprise on what was supposed to be a very boring flight. She was way too senior to be doing mail runs which is what this flight was supposedly about. She had ulterior motives when she opted to take this flight and use it as a check flight on her copilot when they returned to the ship. 

Commander Fielding's reason for taking this flight was a very good one to her at least. The official reason for the flight was to make a mail run into Bagdad Iraq. All she was supposed to do was fly in, pickup and deliver mail and load some parts her ship needed. Unofficially, however, she was on a personal mission as well. Normally one of her junior pilots would get this duty but her Uncle Jeffery Fielding was "in town" and she wanted to take a few minutes to visit him. He was a Soldier but she didn't hold that against him one little bit. In fact, most of her family were Soldiers rather than Sailors but what the heck. Jennifer had felt the call of the sea when she was young and followed the roughly ten to twenty percent of her relatives who went into the Navy instead of the Army.

Uncle Jeff was only going to be in country for a few days so she had a choice of taking this mission or chancing not being able to see him for several more months. Jennifer had just read in her copy of the Army Times that Colonel Jeffery Fielding had been selected for the rank of Brigadier General and she wanted to congratulate him in person. She had flown late into the night the day before serving as pilot of the helo that was always up during flight ops. She was supposed to be off most of the morning but when she got the e-mail from Jeffery she decided to take the flight and visit him. Truthfully Jennifer was lonely. She was senior enough she had very few friends and peers on board. She had never been married so had no close family to write to or call. Oh, sure, she had her birth family back home in Missouri but she had no one special, no one she was close to and she needed that desperately. It seemed all she did was work, eat and sleep. At least if she took the mail run she could see someone special and have a few hours of pleasant conversation. She really needed to catch up on family and the happenings back home.

CDR Fielding brought her bird in carefully and skillfully when she reached the airport. She was slowly settling down for what she hoped would be a textbook landing when her Crew Chief yelled, "Commander get out of here! We have a hot LZ. INCOMING." As she heard him over the intercom she also received the radioed warning from the flight controller. The airport was being hit with mortars.

Jennifer looked around and saw an explosion just to the side of her aircraft. She started back up when another explosion hit just under the nose of the aircraft. Jennifer felt several hard hits on the aircraft. She felt something slam into her right breast. Her right arm went numb and flopped away from the controls. The aircraft began to nose right and drop toward the tarmac.

Jennifer looked down and saw a mass of blood on the right side of her chest. Her flight suit had been torn open and she could see dark red blood seeping out of her body. The pain hit and she moaned. She could hear her copilot yelling in the background as he tried to get control of the bird.

They hit the ground with a hard wallop and screech. Jennifer saw the front of the canopy moving toward her and heard the rotor hit the tarmac. She felt a deep blackness envelop her.

Slowly, painfully CDR Fielding awoke. Her whole body ached with a deep throbbing pain. Her right chest ached with a sharp stabbing pain. Every breath and movement hurt. She heard a moan then realized it was her. She bit her lip to stifle the noise. It was dark in the room where she lay. The doorway was open and she saw light in the hallway. There was faint noise coming through the open door. There was a steady beep, beep, beep coming from the equipment she was attached to.

An Army Lieutenant, a Nurse, came into the room. She smiled at Jennifer and said, "Good evening Commander. I'm Lieutenant Samuels. How do you feel?"

Jennifer tried to smile and said, "Like Crap. I hurt all over."

"I expect you do." The Lieutenant reached for a small cord with a push button on the end. She handed it to Jennifer and said, "This is the control for your pain killer. When the pain begins to bother you too much just push the button and you will get a small dose of Morphine. Don't worry. You can't get too much. It is set to only allow you so much an hour."

While the nurse was talking she was checking all the vital signs on Jennifer. She checked blood pressure, pulse and temperature, made some notes on the chart. She gave Jennifer a quick smile and knelt to check the bag attached to a catheter. "You're doing fine Commander," she said.

Jennifer looked at the young woman and whispered, "My crew? Did they...are they ok?"

"I don't know about all of them ma'am. Your Crew Chief is pretty badly banged up. He wasn't strapped in well and got thrown around a lot when you went in. Your Copilot has a broken leg and some scrapes and abrasions but he'll be fine. Was there anyone else on board?"

Jennifer shook her head no and said, "No, just the three of us this trip. Will Smitty make it? When can I see them?"

"I really can't say Commander. We'll have to see what the Doctor says about visitors. You aren't going anywhere for a while yourself and the Crew Chief can't get out of bed either. Maybe your copilot can drop in on both of you. He is mobile at least. Of course all of you will be leaving in a day or two. You've all got a ticket home."

Later--Jennifer had no idea how much later--a doctor came into her room. He was a Colonel, US Army. He gave her what she was to come to call his "Doctor Smile" and said in an obviously falsely cheerful voice, "Well good morning Commander. How do you feel?"

Somewhat later after the obligatory fines and you'll do wells were out of the way Jennifer finally had the nerve to ask, "Sir how badly was I really hit. I mean, I saw the mess on my chest and I'm pretty sure I had some other holes in me..."

The doctor walked to the other side of the room, picked up a folding chair and pulled it back beside Jennifer's bed. He sat down backwards on it, leaned his chest on the backrest and opened her file. He glanced at it then held it in front of him. Commander, there's no good way to say this. You lost almost your entire right breast. We saved the nipple and most of the upper side. The underside and some of your muscles were ripped away. Luckily the shrapnel that hit your chest was moving from right to left and slightly back to front. If you had been leaning just a little to the left side the damage would have been much less. You took another piece of shrapnel through your lower right side. It missed the kidney but damaged your right ovary and some of your intestines."

The Colonel looked over at Jennifer. He saw the tears, grimaced and continued, "Do you have a family? Children?" When Jennifer shook her head no he continued in a softer voice. "Commander we can reconstruct your breast. We left as much flesh as possible for the plastic surgeons to work with so it can be done. There will be some serious scar tissue and that just can't be helped. You lost enough muscle your right side will probably be weaker than it was. You still have one perfect ovary. There will be some scaring in the reproductive tract. I just can't tell you how that might affect you if you decide to have children in the future. I'm afraid you would have to talk to a specialist about that. Physically you can expect a full recovery however."

Jennifer felt her eyes water. She bit her lip and turned her head away from the doctor. She took a deep shuddering breath and said, "Thank you Sir. At least now I know for sure. For once I am glad I'm a lefty. At least I can still feed myself."

Some unknown amount of time after the doctor left Jennifer was laying in bed looking out the window. She was felt sorry for herself and angrily wiped at the tears trickling down her cheeks. She was like many, even most women. She had wanted a family; a husband, children, the house and yard, PTA meetings and the works. She had dreamed of finding that perfect man while she was in the service but that never seemed to happen. She found several Mr. right nows but never a Mr. All Right. One or two had come close but they just somehow came up short in the end so she had never married. Jennifer had planned to put in her retirement papers after this deployment and find a job on Civvie Street. Truthfully she was becoming tired of the pace she had to keep up in the Navy as well as the loneliness she felt in her personal life. Somehow her career just wasn't fun any longer. She needed more or something different now.

Jennifer was still staring at the dirty brown buildings and sand when she heard a noise behind her. She turned her head back toward the door and saw several more Army uniforms entering her room. There was the doctor, a young Lieutenant and then her eyes opened wider. There was a Brigadier General—her Uncle Jeffery.

Jennifer smiled and said, "Jeff, uh I mean General. I didn't know you had already pinned it on. Congratulations. I had hoped to get to see you this trip. That's why I was flying the bird instead of someone else."

Jeffery looked at Jennifer with sorrow and some worry. He moved through the people with him and bent to her. He gave her a careful hug, kissed her cheek and stood. He smiled and said, "While I would have liked to see you in different settings than this I am glad I can see you and we're able to talk. I understand you had quite an adventure." Jeffery laid his hand on her shoulder and continued, "I know how you feel Jenny. It hurts like hell. You want to cry. Sometimes you just want to die so the pain stops but you do get over it. They tell me you will be moved to Germany tomorrow. You'll probably be back in the states before I am. If you are, tell everyone hi for me. I'll try to call your folks today and tell them I saw you."

Jennifer and Jeffery visited for a few more minutes before he had to leave. She was sorry to see him go but knew he had to. After all, he was here to work not babysit a banged up chopper jockey.

Jennifer was not normally one to feel sorry for herself. She was inherently honest and detested crybabies. Knowing she still had a full and fulfilling life ahead of her she still had immense difficulty maintaining a positive outlook on life after her injury. She had a normal convalescence according to her doctors. In her mind however she did not. She was constantly impatient with her progress. She was devastated when she was told she would have to go before a fitness board for flying. She would be devastated if she could not continue to be a pilot. Every time she looked at herself in a mirror she almost cried. Jennifer had been a very beautiful woman before her injury. Now she was lopsided and her chest and abdomen were covered in unsightly scars. Many times she would catch herself standing in the shower or in front of her mirror gently rubbing the scars and silently crying over what she had lost.

Jennifer still had her life and if she wanted it a career in the Navy. It didn't matter to her that she had already decided to leave the Navy when she was shot down. All that mattered was that she was now ugly and she might no longer be allowed to fly. After her injuries were healed she would have to go before a medical review board for their decision on what future job she would have in the navy or even if she would be allowed to stay on active duty or retired. 

Jennifer took a long convalescent leave and returned home to Steelville. It was great to see the little town once again and to reconnect with all the old friends and her family. Like many of her relatives before her that came home from the military a wounded hero she relaxed beside the river flowing through their land. Also like many of her relatives before her she, perhaps, partook a little too much from the bottle during that time. Also like many before her the family finally got fed up with her attitude. One afternoon Jennifer was sitting on the riverbank pretending to fish while trying to drain a fifth of the Glenlivet.

Jennifer heard footsteps walking up the trail from the direction of the Resort. She tried to ignore the noise and whoever was making it in the hopes they would go away. She heard the steps stop beside her and felt as much as saw a large male shape sit beside her in a lawn chair he had brought with him. The chair matched the one she was using.

Jennifer turned her head to glare at him when she felt him pry her fingers off her bottle of scotch. She set her jaws and glared at him while he raised the bottle to his lips and took a deep swallow. Without a word Colonel (Retired) Charles Fielding returned the bottle to his daughter. He looked at her a moment then leaned forward and put his forearms on his legs. He looked over the slowly flowing river and through the trees lining the far bank. His eyes focused on one of the hired hands running a tractor baling hay in the distant field. To her surprise Jennifer saw the hint of a tear in his eye. 

Finally her father heaved a deep sigh and without looking at her began to speak. "Honey I know you hurt. You have lost something that I know was very dear to you. I remember how Charlene felt about flying. She loved me dearly but I almost think she loved flying more. Before she agreed to marry me she made me agree not to try to keep her from flying. In the end the flying killed her just like it almost did you.

"When Charlene died a part of me died with her. I've been where you are now just as have many of your other relatives and friends. I tried to kill my sorrow with the Glenlivet too. Honey you can't spend the rest of your life sitting here sucking on that bottle no matter how good its contents are. A good scotch can make you feel better for a while. It can deaden your pain somewhat but I guarantee you are still thinking about what you have lost. It can't make you forget. You really don't want to forget. All you want to do is lose the pain. Honey the only way you can lose the pain is to move on.

"After Charlene died I did the same thing you are doing. I sat down here for hours at a time, day after day trying to make myself feel better and wallowing in my sorrow. I was miserable. Your mother and grandmother finally talked some sense into me. You have to let it go and move on. I know I wasn't injured physically like you and your uncle Jeff was but I had a soul searing, soul destroying loss. I really didn't care if I lived or died for a while. At least in one way what happened to you is better than what happened to me. You didn't lose someone you loved. You can do other things and be happy. 

"You know many people believe things always happen for a reason. If I hadn't lost Charlene I wouldn't have met your mother whom I love very deeply. If I hadn't gone through that pain and suffering I might not have been trying to find something I had lost by taking my time driving across the country when I met your mother. If I had not lost Charlene I definitely wouldn't have had you and your brothers. You have to believe there are still a lot of good things out there for you Jennifer. 

"Honey you have over half your life ahead of you still. I don't know what you want to do with it but I desperately hope it isn't to live the rest of your life inside that bottle. You have to get a grip and move on. Ok, so you aren't as beautiful as you once were on the outside. So you have lost the ability to do something you loved to do. Buck up. There are other things you can still do. You are still a beautiful woman. You have that inner beauty and frankly an outer one as well.

"I've never asked. I always felt it really wasn't any of my business but I do want to make a comment here. You need people in your life. You need a special person—someone who can make you feel like your mother does me; someone who can give you children if you want them or at the very least someone who can love you and take away the hurt as you deserve." Charlie looked somewhat uncomfortable and continued, "If you, unnh, if you don't have a man to do that we can make a partner welcome here too."

For the first time since she was shot down Jennifer laughed. For some reason seeing the expression on his face when her father tried to tell her it was ok if she was a lesbian made her laugh until her sides hurt. Finally she managed to stop and leaned over to hug him. "Daddy how could you think I was like that? You know I dated a lot of boys and men before I left home and after I got into the Navy." 

Jennifer smiled and laid her hand on her father's forearm. "Daddy you know I have always wanted a family and children. At first I was captivated by my career and felt like I had scads of time to become a good pilot and then make babies. I tried Daddy, I really did but I just couldn't find a man who was good enough. The one or two I did find wanted me to get out of the Navy and become a stay at home wife, to join the wives club and help further THEIR careers. I couldn't do that. You and mom raised me to stand on my own two feet and to have a career too. Now I suppose it's too late though. Who would want a scared up old hag like me that may not even be able to make a baby any longer?"

Charlie leaned back in his chair and glared at his daughter. "THAT'S ENOUGH OF THAT CRAP COMMANDER!" You are a highly educated woman, a military officer. You know damn well you're spouting a bunch of bullshit. You're a fine woman and if you want to badly enough you can find a man or woman to live the rest of your life with. Your few physical imperfections will not stop them from loving you either. Your inner beauty, your personality and brain will win the day for you. Now GET OFF YOUR DAMN ASS AND QUIT FEELING SORRY FOR YOURSELF!"

Charlie stood and stomped away from Jennifer. Jennifer on the other hand felt herself almost shaking with anger. What the hell did he know? He still had his career. He had her mother too. She had no one and now she probably didn't even have a job she loved.

Jennifer reached for her bottle again and became even angrier. Her beloved Glenlivet was gone. She looked up in time to see her father walk around a corner in the path carrying the bottle with him. "Shit. Damn asshole," she muttered. She stood and threw the stick she had been holding into the river. She didn't even pull her fishing pole from the water before she stomped down the path behind her father. How DARE he take her bottle when he left? She was damn well going to get it back from him and give him a piece of her mind.

Jennifer had gone almost out of sight of her spot before she cooled off enough to think again. She walked slower then with an oath turned back to where she had been sitting. She pulled in her fishing line, folded both chairs and began trudging slowly back toward the resort. When she got there she put the chairs and fishing gear away without a word. Jennifer went straight to the room she was using and ignored everyone who was watching her.




A New Direction



After a long hot shower Jennifer sat on the small deck off her room and watched the river flow past. Occasionally a young couple or a group of people would float past in canoes. She remembered the days when she was young and did the same thing. Life seemed so simple and so wonderful in those days. She was beautiful and knew it. She had to fight the men off and many times she didn't. She had lost her virginity on one of those float trips. She wondered what ever happened to all those boys she had dated in high school and college. Well, really, she only wondered about two or three of the most special ones but so what.

Jennifer sat on her patio until nearly 1730 before she moved. She was supposed to have supper with the family at her grandparents' home. It was Friday night and every Friday a different family member hosted a meal for the rest of the family. She had missed almost all of the gatherings since she had been home this time. Sometimes they held the gathering here at the Resort but that was usually on a special occasion or when the entire family would be expected to be present and no one else had room.

Jennifer changed into shorts and a blouse then walked out of the lodge and to the car she had been loaned for her leave. When she entered her grandparent's home she found herself walking slower. She felt like a naughty child who had been caught more than a responsible Naval Officer. She walked through the house and into the kitchen where many of the women were putting the finishing touches on the meal. She could see the men standing or sitting around outside while the BBQ smoked wildly.

Jennifer wasn't comfortable with the women because she had not done much of a domestic nature for over 20 years. Oh, sure when she was on shore duty she prepared many of her own meals, cleaned her own home and so forth but she didn't feel like she had much in common with the wives and mothers scurrying around the kitchen. She really had more in common with the men. Most of the males in the back yard either were in the Reserves or had retired from one branch or another of the military. They were all, to a man Officers. She fit in there but she was embarrassed to show her face after the talking to she had suffered this afternoon. She knew her father was right but it hurt so damn much...

Finally Jennifer moved to a compromise. She began carrying prepared items outside and placing them on the tables they would use for the meal. While she was out there she would visit for a moment or two with the men. Slowly, inevitably Jennifer relaxed and began to enjoy herself. These people were not only her family they were her friends. She cared deeply for them and she knew they cared deeply for her.

Over the course of that evening and the next week Jennifer finally began to heal mentally and emotionally as she had already healed physically. A week before her leave was over she got a phone call from her commander. He told her when her Medical Review Board met. After that call Jennifer called her detailer. He laid out her options if she was able to continue flying and if she was not. To her they weren't really all that great. She agreed to consider them all and let him know what position she would be most interested in if she was retained in the navy. Of course there was no guarantee that would be where the Navy would put her but at least she did have some input.

By the time her leave was over Jennifer was once again in love with her hometown and the surrounding area. The small town had grown enormously while she had been away in the Navy. There were now almost 4000 residents and many new businesses. Jennifer found herself strangely reluctant to leave. She had met many new people and made friends with some of them. She was especially fond of a retired Command Sergeant Major in Wilsons Mill and a retired navy Chief that worked for another friend of hers in Steelville.

While she was going through more physicals and reintegrating herself back into the Navy Jennifer made a life altering decision. She decided to retire and move back home. She did not even wait to see if she would pass the flight physical that had been scheduled for her. She did not care what the Medical Review Board would decide. One of her old school friends worked as a real estate agent. They had gone out several evenings during her convalescence and reconnected. The lady made real estate sound interesting. She said if you were good even in the down markets you could make enough money to live comfortably. Of course with her pension Jennifer would not have to work as hard or long to live comfortably any way. She had no intention of using her income from the family business to live on. As far as she was concerned she didn't need it and so it was of no consequence.

Much to her surprise the day Jennifer filled out the retirement application she felt a weight lift off her shoulders. She had not realized how the responsibilities of her career had weighed her down. She felt happy about the decision and was looking forward to returning permanently to the home she had left so many years ago. Normally the Navy required several months notice for retirement but considering her special circumstances they waived some of the notice time. Jennifer was retired and released from Active duty three months after returning from her convalescence leave.

Jennifer packed her small SUV with immediately necessary items and started off on a leisurely drive back toward home. The Navy would ship the rest of her belongings to her. She had already decided to get her real estate license and see if she liked selling real estate as a second career.

Jennifer was surprised at the ease with which she settled back into life in her small town. Within six months she felt as if she had been there all her life. She had her real estate license and was building her business rapidly. Her name and family connections were helping immensely as you would expect. She was already working on obtaining her broker's license as well. Jennifer knew the area well and knew where the choice locations to own were. She targeted those locations in her marketing.

There was a small bar and campground in the town of Prineville that Jennifer began going to. It was owned and operated by Larry Wilson, a young retired Army Sergeant and his wife Linda. The first time Jennifer had been there was for lunch she treated a couple to when she was showing them some property. She had liked the place immediately and felt relaxed there. 

The second time Jennifer had gone to the place was on a Friday evening when she had invited her good friend Sarah out to celebrate her obtaining her Broker's License. They sat on the patio with a couple of the other agents celebrating Jennifer's accomplishment. Finally, near the end of the evening Sarah stood and made a toast to Jennifer. "I want to take this opportunity to formally toast the accomplishments of my very good friend Commander Jennifer Fielding. She served our country with distinction for almost 22 years before retiring and coming back home to us. Now that she has returned to us she has taken up another career and in just a few short months has obtained her Broker's license and a full book of properties to sell. Well done Jennifer, thank you for your service and welcome home."

Later that evening only Jennifer and Sarah were left celebrating. A young man and woman walked up to their table. The young man was crippled and limping slightly. The woman was carrying a tray with four drinks on it. The man stood before Jennifer almost at attention. The woman placed the drinks for Sarah and Jennifer on the table, handed one to the man and took the other for herself.

The man fully assumed the position of attention with the exception of holding his drink and said, "Commander I am SSG Larry Wilson, Retired. I overheard the earlier toast your friend there made. My wife Linda and I also want to thank you for your service and welcome you home."

The man smiled and placed his arm around the waist of the woman standing beside him before continuing. "My wife and I own this little slice of Heaven and are pleased you and your friends have chosen to honor us with your business. You were always welcome here but now you are even more welcome. There is always a place in our establishment for those who have served our country."

For some reason Jennifer felt her eyes become moist. She felt a tightening in her throat. She stood also and said, "Thank you so much Sergeant but, if I may, I want to repeat a saying my Grandfather used to use. We're both retired now and I'm not a Commander any longer. It would honor me if you would call me Jennifer. I assume since you're retired at such a young age that your limp must have something to do with it? If so, I am the one who should be honored to be in the presence of one who was so seriously injured fighting for his country."

Larry laughed and said, "OK Jennifer. And yes, you are correct. I was injured somewhat on active duty and had to leave the service. Of course from the rumors I hear I don't hold a monopoly on that either do I? I hear you took some major hits too."

Surprising no one the two ex military people hit it off well. The one drink morphed into another, then another. Linda and Sarah both sat listening as the two new friends travelled down memory lane with each other. As the night passed and finally drew to a close it became obvious neither Sarah nor Jennifer were fit to drive. Atypically Larry and Linda closed the bar with Linda doing most of the work because of Larry's unusual state of intoxication. Even more strangely when the closing work was completed they took the two drunks into their home and let them sleep it off.

The next morning a hung over Larry and his wife were sitting on the balcony overlooking the park and river when an embarrassed Jennifer came stumbling outside to see them. "Mrs. Wilson I am so embarrassed. I apologize for my actions last night. I am grateful for your kindness putting Sarah and me up last evening. Can you ever forgive me for imposing on you like I did?"

Linda laughed and said, "Jennifer you have no reason to ask for my forgiveness. You were not obnoxious in the least and Larry and I both really enjoyed talking with you last night." She smiled and wrapped her arm around a sheepish looking Larry then continued, "Besides, I not only learned more about my husband and what he went through last night than I had known before but I also understand much better what those of you who serve go through. I would like very much to be able to call you a friend. You and your friends will always be welcome in our bar and in our home. Now sit down and I'll get you some coffee I bet you need."

Jennifer sank into a chair beside Larry and sheepishly took the coffee when Linda handed it to her. She sat quietly drinking the coffee and looking over the river with Larry and Linda. About thirty minutes later Sarah came staggering from her bedroom and onto the deck. She sank into a chair and held her head in her hands. "OHHHH. I feel like crap." She turned to Jennifer and said, "All the rumors I have heard are correct aren't they? You damn sailors DO drink like fishes. Never again."

Everyone laughed and relaxed back in their seats. Linda walked from the deck into the house. Soon Linda returned and handed Sarah a cup of steaming coffee. Not another word was spoken until all had completed their cups of coffee. Jennifer looked over at Larry and said, "I really don't know what got into me last night. It's been years since I let myself get drunk like that."

Larry looked over at Jennifer and smiled although the smile looked more like a grimace. "I know what you mean Commander. I acted like a payday rich little PV1 and I'm sure paying for it right now."

"Dammit Larry I TOLD you my name's Jennifer. I WAS a Commander. Am I going to have to stand you at attention and read you the riot act before you call me by my name?"

"I'm sorry Ma'am. It's just a habit. I'll try to get better if you insist."

"Larry Ma'am is just as bad. I will lay some hurt on you if you don't straighten up. Speaking of hurt, do you have some aspirin I could have? I need to take care of this headache, find some food and then get home to change clothes and get to work."

Sometime during Larry and Jennifer's exchange Linda had disappeared. Larry stood and walked slowly, almost painfully, into his house. He went into the master bedroom and got a bottle of aspirin then went into the kitchen for a glass of water. He saw Linda making what he called a "real" breakfast. She was frying Potatoes and Onions, Eggs, Ham and there were biscuits in the oven. He walked up to her, set the water and aspirin down then wrapped her in his arms. He looked at her beautiful face a moment then gave her a gentle kiss. "I love you Honey," he said. "Thank you for putting up with us last night and for the breakfast this morning."

After another hug Larry picked up Jennifer's aspirin and water then walked back out onto the deck. He handed her the items he had for her and said, "Here are your pain pills you worthless Squid. Linda's making that breakfast you ordered right now. I'm afraid we can't help you with the change of clothes though."

"Oh, no! We couldn't impose on you for breakfast. Come on Sarah, we have to go right now."

Larry was just beginning to tell Jennifer she had to stay because the food was almost done when Linda came to the door. "Come on you three. Breakfast's on the table."

Jennifer and Sarah made a couple more polite statements of regret for putting Larry and Linda out then they all trooped into the house. There wasn't much conversation as the meal disappeared rapidly. Finally Jennifer sighed and pushed back from the table. "That was delicious Linda. Thank you. I really enjoy breakfasts like that but don't have them very often because of the calories they pack in. Now let me help you with the dishes then I really do have to run. I have a showing this morning and I still have to go home, shower and change clothes."

Larry and Linda watched the two women walk slowly toward their cars. When the cars started ok the couple turned back toward the bar. They had a lot of work to do to prepare it for opening at 11:00. Normally they had a lively lunch trade then things slowed down until shortly after 5 when people began dropping in for a cold one on the way home from work. Larry worked slowly because of his hang over. Finally they were ready for the lunch crowd and wandered out onto the deck to rest a moment before they unlocked the door to start another day. 

Linda looked over at Larry and smiled. "I really enjoyed myself last night Honey. Jennifer Fielding is a really nice woman and her friend Sarah is ok too."

"Yeah but I think she's really lonesome. I hope she finds some friends to visit with soon so she doesn't seem so sad. Somehow she just doesn't seem like most of the people we get in here. I hope she comes back often."

Larry and Linda didn't see Jennifer for a few days then she showed up Wednesday evening. She came in about 6 p.m. and walked up to the bar. She ordered a Dos Equis Lager. After she paid she took her beer and wandered out onto the deck. None of the group Jennifer usually came with had showed up. She sat watching the sun filter through the trees. There was still an occasional canoe floating past on the river that would catch her attention.

Larry walked up to his cook and said, "Betty Linda and I are going to be on the deck for a break. Please keep an eye on the bar for me. Yell if you need one of us back."

When Linda and Larry walked onto the deck they saw Jennifer staring at the old abandoned Hotel beside his campground. She looked up at them and smiled then returned to her inspection of the surroundings.

Jennifer said, "Larry what's the story on the old Hotel over there? I know it's been closed for several years. It looks so sad just sitting there rotting away. Do you own it too? I seem to recall it was part of the camp grounds at one time."

"Yeah we own it. It was part of the deal when I bought the place from Phil. I hate to see it rot but we just don't have the money to fix it up. I try to keep the grounds in decent shape because a lot of the campers and picnickers use the yard and shade during the summer. I've thought about trying to do something with it but I really don't have the time or money to do it."

"Would you mind if I looked it over? I would like to see what it looks like. I spent a lot of fun summers working there when it was open for tourists."

"No, be my guest. Do you have something in mind or are you just curious?"

"No I just remember it from when I was younger and thought it would be neat to trip down memory lane more than anything."

After Jennifer finished her beer she stood to leave. Larry and Linda stood also to return to work. When the three got to the bar Larry picked up a key and handed it to Jennifer. "Here's the key to the hotel. Sorry I can't come with you but I have to get back to work."

Jennifer was gone almost an hour before she came back into the bar once more. She smiled and handed Larry the key then ordered another beer. This time she sat at the bar and visited with Larry while he tended to his business. Linda was helping the cook and two waitresses were scurrying back and forth.

The next Friday evening Jennifer returned to the bar once more. She greeted Larry as normal and once more took a table on the deck where she could see the hotel and look over the river. Several people she knew showed up and they had a great sounding time. Sometimes the table would be completely packed then one or two would leave before more showed up. Jennifer stayed until the very end. After the last of her friends left about 10 p.m. she stood, walked to the bar and took a seat.

Larry walked up and stood in front of her. They began visiting and continued the visit through several interruptions necessitated by drink orders. Finally about 11:30 things began slowing down. Jennifer looked up from watching her bottle as she made water rings on the bar. She said, "Larry I've been thinking about your hotel all week. I have a proposition for you. You know I'm in the real estate business?"

Larry nodded his head 'yes' and Jennifer continued. "I think the old building is still pretty structurally sound. It is dirty and outdated. The room sizes are slightly below modern standards but I think you could work around that. What I'm thinking here is that I could help finance a remodel for you then I could act as manager of the property. We would have to hire some help but that shouldn't be too much of a problem. What I really want to do is live there. I've fallen in love with the view here and how peaceful it is along this stretch of the river. I like it here a lot better than out at my families' resort where I have been living.

"We could rent a few rooms out nightly for vacationers but we could also turn some of the rooms into small apartments. It looks like there are 16 rooms downstairs and 20 upstairs. We could turn the upstairs rooms into small apartments and use the downstairs rooms for nightly or weekly rentals. I would take my management fees by using the largest upstairs apartment rent free. Here, I roughed out a drawing to show you what I mean.

"Look at this drawing Larry. Upstairs we can make 4 two bedroom apartments out of 12 rooms, 2 one bedroom apartments out of 4 more rooms then we could turn the remaining 4 end rooms into a nice large apartment for me or some other manager if I should leave in the future. Downstairs we can leave 12 rooms the same size for nightly rentals and turn the other 4 rooms into one bedroom units with a small kitchen area for weekly rentals. Later if we need more weekly rental units we could convert more of the smaller rooms over or rent the apartments weekly if they don't rent monthly."




A New Direction



Larry stood looking at Jennifer for a moment then said, "That sounds great. I would like to see something done with the building but I really don't have the money to do that. I owe enough to Phil still that I don't want to borrow more. I sure would like to see the building fixed up though."

Jennifer thought a moment longer then said, "Well, how about this? I foot the renovation costs, live in the apartment I want for myself and we split the profits 50/50. You give me your share of the profits until my costs are fully repaid. I will charge no interest on the loan since I am technically a partner in the renovation. I can have our family lawyer draw up a partnership agreement and we could get started on the old place. Larry I really would like to live over there and I think this would be a good deal for both of us."

"On the surface I don't have a problem with that. It sounds like a win/win situation to me but I think we need to get Linda involved in this discussion. We need to talk about what happens if we want to split up the partnership or one of us dies too."

About that time Linda walked up and wrapped her arm around Larry's waist. She smiled up at Larry and glanced at Jennifer before she said, "You want to get Linda involved in what?"

The two friends told Linda what they had been discussing. As they talked she began to smile. She agreed the proposal sounded great. She and Jennifer agreed to meet and iron out the plans then get the attorneys involved. Before too long the paperwork was signed and Jennifer was making plans to begin the renovations. One of her first jobs after the agreement was signed was to finish her plans to finance the renovation.

Jennifer began thinking about the renovation expenses and where she would liquidate her investments. As she did that she had a thought. The hotel was over 100 years old. She went on line and looked up the requirements to get it on the National List of Historic Buildings. If she could do that she found there were a lot of grants she could get, or rather Larry could get, to help fund renovations.

For the next several months she and Larry worked to get the building listed. After it was finally listed on the register they had several hours of work to do to insure the renovation plans would meet the requirements. Finally, with the help of an architect, they finalized their plans and Jennifer began looking for a contractor.

Jennifer wanted to use local help as much as she could. Her search for a contractor was somewhat difficult for her because many did not have the qualifications needed to save and restore the old building. Finally, in the end she found just the one she wanted. The firm she contracted to do the work was out of Centerton. After the paperwork was signed with them the owner said, "Well Commander I think you'll have a great place there when we're done with it. I'll have my job foreman meet you there early Monday morning to make final plans for the work. Let me know if there is anything you need that he can't take care of."

The following Monday Jennifer, Larry and Linda met the Job Site Foreman at the old hotel for a final walk through before he moved his crew in to begin working. The middle aged man looked somewhat familiar to Jennifer. She felt a little uneasy when he hesitated just after getting out of his truck and stared at her.

The man walked up to the three partners and introduced himself to Larry and Linda as Mark Scott. He shook Larry's and Linda's hand then turned to Jennifer with a smile. She had been watching the man as he went through the introduction process with Larry and Linda. When he stepped in front of her she began smiling and reached for his hand. Mark smiled also and shook her hand then said, "I have been looking forward to seeing you again Jennifer. I had to pull some major strings to get assigned this renovation. How have you been? How are you feeling now?"

"I'm well Mark. I'm surprised to see you also. I didn't know you were still living around here. I haven't seen Brenda or talked to her since I left home. How is Trudy?"

Mark stood for a moment without speaking. The three friends saw his face tighten and he took a deep breath. His voice was harsh when he once again spoke. "I have no idea how that bitch is. I haven't seen her in almost twelve years. We got divorced just after Brenda died."

Jennifer stepped back and placed her hand on Mark's arm. She looked shocked when she said, "Oh my God. I didn't even know Brenda was dead. I'm sorry if I opened some wounds. I didn't know about your divorce either. I'm so sorry."

Mark took a deep breath and looked over the river for a moment. "Yeah, Brenda and her husband had a pretty bad automobile accident about 13 years ago. Brenda died in the accident and Howard spent some time in the hospital then he had several weeks of recuperation. Since he was my brother we did all we could to help him get over the accident and Brenda's death. Unfortunately, I found out Trudy was going way beyond what was acceptable to me to make Mark feel better. It's the old story. I came home early one day and found them in bed screwing up a storm. I reinjured good old Howard slightly when I threw him out of the house and I sent Brenda along with him although I didn't injure her like I wanted to. She and Howard got our girl in the divorce then moved away with almost 2/3 of my net worth. I haven't seen my daughter now in seven years. They took off and disappeared. I reported the disappearance to the authorities but something like that is low on their priorities. I don't know if I'll ever see Gwendolyn again."

"I'm so sorry Mark. Please forgive me for opening that wound again."

"No problem. You didn't know and truthfully it's never far from my mind."

The next three weeks were busy and saddening for Jennifer and Larry. They both had memories of the old hotel and they were sad to see it being gutted before being put back together in its new configuration. Between selling real estate and overseeing the renovations Jennifer was working 10-12 hours a day much as she had while in the navy. Of course when she thought of this she stopped and remembered in sorrow what she felt she had lost when she retired.

One evening after she had looked over the day's work at the hotel Jennifer was sitting on the deck of the bar with her evening drink. She was listening to the night sounds coming from the river. The fish were jumping and the katydids were singing. She saw some fires down on the river bank and smiled as she listened to people laughing and splashing in the water. She missed listening to the exuberance of her young pilots when they were unwinding. In some ways what she listened to here at the bar and from the campground reminded her of that.

Her thoughts about the pilots were not the best ones she could have had. Those thoughts just made her miss flying more than she normally did. She was sitting making water circles on the table with her beer bottle when Mark came and sat at the table with her. He watched her for a few moments then asked, "What is wrong Jennifer? When you left the hotel you seemed happy. Now you look like you lost your best friend."

"Oh just being silly I suppose. I've been watching and listening to those young people here tonight and feeling sorry for myself. I really miss flying and the camaraderie we all had. I almost feel like I lost a very dear friend. I know I lost something very dear to me when I had to quit flying. Truthfully, the sound of the children playing isn't helping either."

Jennifer sighed and continued, "I always wanted children but I never seemed to find the right man to help me with that. My career always seemed to get in the way."

"Why can't you fly Jen? You look fit as a fiddle to me."

Jennifer felt herself blush. She sat staring into space for a moment then looked up at Mark. "I don't have the muscle strength and reflexes for combat flying any longer. When I was hit I took some shrapnel in my side and intestines and, unh female parts. I lost most of the muscles in my right chest area and my breast."

"You look fit. Why can't you fly any longer?

"I suppose I can fly but I don't have the ability for combat flying any longer. That is what the navy is all about and I just couldn't face a non flying job especially since it would probably have been on a carrier or naval air station."

The conversation moved on to other topics and Jennifer forgot all about it over the course of the next several days. She had almost completely mastered the real estate business and was finding it boring after her career in the navy. If she had to listen to one more spoiled little bitch whining about finding just the perfect house she thought she would puke. She didn't know what she could do about it but was beginning to think she might have to find something more exciting to do or she would die of boredom.

On Friday evening Jennifer had a late session so didn't get to the hotel before the crew left. Instead of looking over the work she just walked into the bar. She smiled and spoke to Larry and Linda for a moment while she picked up her first beer of the evening. After a few minutes of conversation she walked out onto the deck to her normal table. To her surprise Mark and a couple of her other friends were still there.

When Mark saw her he smiled and stood up. He said loudly, "Well it's about time you got here. I thought we were going to have to send out a search party to find you." Mark turned and pulled a chair from the table then continued, "Here, sit down. I think I've found just the thing to cheer you up Jen. Tom Sligo has a crop dusting service and I just found out he can't pass his flight physical any longer. He's going to have to close his business or sell it one. He and Sadie really can't afford to close down. They can't live on their Social Security by itself. Can you fly an airplane? If you can would you be interested in flying his crop duster until he can sell the business?"

Jennifer sat and stared at Mark. She felt herself becoming excited and had to clamp down on her emotions. "Yes Mark. I am a fixed wing pilot as well as rotary wing. Of course I am not checked out in a crop duster but that shouldn't be too difficult to arrange. I should be able to pass a civilian flight physical but we would have to see that. You know I just might try and see if I can help Mr. Sligo out. Thank you."

"Great. Here's his card. Give him a call if you're really interested. It would mean a lot to him if you can help him out. I think what he would really like to do is sell the business but he might just let you fly for him. I think he and his wife want to move to Florida and retire."

Jennifer and her friends spent the next couple of hours visiting but everyone could see her mind really wasn't in the conversation. Larry had heard Mark tell Jennifer about the crop dusting service and knew that was what she was thinking of. He had known for several weeks that Jennifer was not completely happy and had worried about his friend. Oh, sure she was excited about bringing the old hotel back to life and about getting to live there but she didn't seem at all satisfied with her real estate business.

A little over a week later just about the time most of the after work crowd showed up at the bar Larry heard a small aircraft. The noise got louder and louder. He heard some of the guests on the patio yell then heard a loud roar as the plane buzzed past just over the roof of the building. He went out on the patio to see what was going on. He rapidly found the little yellow plane in the sky. It was almost at the apex of a climb. He watched as it turned its nose toward the ground once more and dropped like a rock straight toward the bar once more. Some of the people were looking for a place to run when it pulled out of its dive and flashed over the patio once more. It flashed across the river headed back the way it came. As it crossed the river its wings waggled back and forth a couple of times then it was out of sight.

About 45 minutes later Jennifer came into the bar. She was grinning ear to ear. She looked happier than she had looked for weeks. She almost bounced up to the bar and ordered a Glenlivet double on the rocks. She was still grinning when she took the first sip.

Larry looked at her for a moment then he grinned also. "That crazy pilot a few minutes ago was you wasn't it Commander? You know you scared a bunch of people don't you? I think some of them had to go home to change their pants. I'm going to bill you for the lost business if you keep that up."

Jennifer's eyes were sparkling. She was almost bouncing with happiness when she said, "Yes. It was me. I haven't had that much fun since flight school I don't think. I'm going to fly part time for Tom the rest of this month. If I like doing the dusting as much as I think I will I'm going to buy his business. I'll sell real estate in my off times and manage your hotel like I promised but the rest of the year I will run the crop dusting service."

Once again Jennifer and Sarah stayed later than the rest of their gang. Once again they had a couple too many to drink. This time, however, Mark stayed with them celebrating. About an hour before the bar closed Larry was moving through the establishment visiting with his customers, checking to see if they were happy with the service they had received and touching base with the many of them who he now called friends.

When Larry came to the table Jennifer, Mark and Sarah were at he almost missed a step. Mark was sitting close to Jennifer with his arm wrapped around her. His other hand was under her skirt slightly as he gently caressed her thigh. Jennifer had her head resting on his shoulder. She looked up at him and stretched somewhat to place a gentle kiss on his lips. Mark bent his head toward her and gave her another longer kiss. Jennifer moaned as he did so.

Sarah sat trying not to watch the two across the table from her. She was biting her lip. When she saw Larry she smiled and shook her head. When Larry got closer he heard Jennifer say, "You know I really missed you all those years. It almost killed me to leave you here and again when I heard you had gotten married."

"You don't know how much I hurt, how angry I got when you took off to the Navy after we graduated from the University. I thought...I loved you more than you could know and you jerked my heart right out of me when you did that. I was going to ask you to marry me you know."

Jennifer looked up at Mark with tears in her eyes. "Yeah, I was afraid you were. I loved you too Mark but I just had to go to the Navy. I had listened to my relatives all my life talking about the military and the things they did in the service. I just had to follow in their footsteps. Besides, you know how badly I wanted to fly... Honey it just wouldn't have worked for us then. I couldn't have married you and been happy staying here in Steelville. I needed more and I wasn't ready for marriage.

"I knew you wouldn't have been happy following me around the world either. It just would have never worked. I think you are why I never got married though. None of the men I dated or lived with could ever live up to your memory."

Larry looked over at Sarah and caught her rolling her eyes as she listened to that conversation. He started to walk away when Jennifer saw him. She smiled and said, "Don't go Larry. It looks like things have quieted down some. Why don't you sit and visit with us for a few minutes." She had never taken her head off Mark's shoulder or moved his hand from her thigh although he did pull it down until it was resting at the hem of her skirt.

Larry could see all three of the friends were probably over the legal BAC to drive. He hated it when his customers took off obviously drunk and he especially hated it when his close friends did so. He was really looking forward to having the hotel finished so he could direct some of them over there to sleep it off. He didn't know if they would take his advice or not but he planned on giving it in any event.

Larry sat and visited for a few minutes then asked about the status of the renovations. Jennifer finally sat straighter and she and Mark filled him in on the last couple days progress since the three had talked previously. She said, "Things are coming along great Larry. I'm afraid I had them work on my apartment first but the rest of the building is coming along rapidly also. The finish carpenters are working on my apartment putting the final touches on it. I can move in sometime next week I think. All the rooms upstairs have been completed and are waiting on the painters. It should only take a couple more weeks to get them painted, floor coverings in and the woodwork finished. I think I can begin advertising them for renting by the last of August.

"The downstairs is coming along pretty well also. About half of the rough carpentry and modifications are completed downstairs. We should have the whole interior of the building completed in another four or five weeks. I have already started looking for a good landscaping crew to finish the grounds and parking area."

"Great! I want to get the nightly rooms ready as soon as I can. I want to try and send some of the drunks over there to rent a room and sleep it off if I can. I don't like to see them driving home like some of them get from time to time. In fact, I don't want the three of you driving tonight either. You're my friends as well as customers and you are way too lubricated to drive safely tonight. I think you maybe celebrated your new business a little too hard Jen."

Sarah and Jennifer both started to argue about their level of intoxication. To Larry's surprise Mark spoke up. He merely said, "Jen! You know he's right. Now do you want him to call one of the Fieldings to come get you or how do you want to handle this?"

Jennifer looked at Mark in surprise for a moment then she relaxed slightly. "You're right Honey," she said. She looked at Larry and said, "I am too far gone to drive and so is this asshole and Sarah. Thank you for worrying about us. I suppose we'll just sleep it off in our cars and go home later. I'll sure be glad when all I have to do is walk across the parking lot to get home!"

Larry looked around the room for a moment. When he saw his wife, Linda, he smiled as he watched her trim form glide around cleaning and getting ready to close. Like many a good spouse she seemed to know when her husband was watching her. She raised her head and turned toward him then smiled widely. Larry smiled back and motioned for her to come join them. When Linda arrived Larry said, "This swabby and her crew have done it again. They're drunk on their asses and I don't want them to drive tonight. Can we put them up for the night honey?"

Linda placed her hand on Larry's shoulder. She said, "Of course Honey. The guest room is clean and ready to go." She looked slightly worried then and continued, "We don't have a bed for Mark though. I can find some blankets for the couch though I suppose."

Mark looked guilty. He had a deer in the headlights sort of look. He said, "No. I'm not involved in this. Jen and Sarah are lots worse off than I am. I'll just go on home. I'm sure I can make it fine."

Jennifer looked over at Mark and said, "You will not. You've had almost as much to drink as Sharra uh Saaaarrrrrraaaah n I've drunk. You don't needta be drivin too. We'll jus scrunch over n you cn sleep wit us!" She had a brilliant smile on her face after she made that pronouncement. Then she turned to Linda and said, "Thass K with you innit Linna?"

Linda smiled and blushed slightly. She looked at Larry a moment. He shrugged his shoulders and Linda said, "Well, that's between the three of you I think but that's only a Queen sized bed."

The three drunks sat at the table swilling even more booze after Larry and Linda left to complete their day's work. Finally all the closing actions had been completed and the couple walked up to the table where Jennifer, Mark and Sarah sat still talking and laughing. Larry had cut them off after one more drink when he and Linda had been talking to them but they had not begun to sober up yet.




A New Direction



"Ok you three. Time to go. Come on, Larry said.

Somewhat to Linda's surprise Jennifer and Sarah disappeared back into the bedroom when they got to the apartment. Mark used the bathroom and collapsed onto the couch. He was asleep and snoring before Linda came out with a blanket that she gently placed over him.

Linda and Larry went into their bedroom where they showered and rapidly went to bed. They heard Jennifer and Sarah collapse onto the guest bed then the house was filled with silence. The next morning Linda and Larry were up well before the other three. As quietly as they could they made their morning coffee and went onto the deck to drink it as they normally did in good weather. 

About thirty minutes after they had settled in with their coffee they heard Mark and Sarah talking in the house. Shortly they both came out with a cup of coffee in their hand. They both looked a little guilty and tried to apologize for the way they acted the night before.

Linda looked up at them and smiled. She said, "Nonsense. You were polite and didn't get rowdy. You are our friends and we look out for friends. You know we wouldn't invite just any customer into our house if they became too drunk but friends are different. Now don't let it bother you. Why don't you just sit down and enjoy your coffee."

After he finished his first cup of coffee Mark stood. He turned toward the house and asked if anyone else wanted a refill. Larry handed him his cup and said, "Please."

Mark said, "I think I'll see what's taking Jenn so long before I come back out. OK?"

Linda spoke up and said, "Oh, Mark. Just let her sleep. It's no bother. I'm sure she'll wake up when she's ready."

Mark walked back into the house. The three sat and talked while they waited on Mark to return with his and Larry's coffee. After almost ten minutes Linda finally said, "I wonder what's keeping Mark? I'll go check on him and get the coffee."

She stood and moved toward the door. Larry watched her walk away as he did many times. He just could never get enough of his wife. He loved to just watch her as she moved around. This time he frowned when she stopped just outside the door. She blushed and took a step back. Larry said, "What's the matter Honey?"

Larry stood and moved toward the door. He stopped beside Linda and began laughing. When she heard Larry laugh and Linda giggle Sarah stood and moved up beside them. She began laughing when she saw what they were looking at. She said, "Well, it's about time! Jennifer has had it bad about him for weeks and has been dancing around trying to decide what to do about it. They were right for each other when we were in school and they're still right for each other. I'm glad they've finally come to their senses."

The three friends watched while Jennifer and Mark stood in the hallway kissing and rubbing their hands all over each other. They heard Jennifer moan and watched as her hand moved between her and Mark. They all three knew she was cupping his cock which was probably steel hard. They heard another moan from Jennifer when Mark gently, slowly slid his hand up her side and began flicking her nipple with his thumb while he cupped her left breast.

Slowly Mark walked Jennifer backward into the bedroom she and Sarah had used the night before. He was lifting Jennifer's blouse over her head when the door gently closed. After the two lovers were out of sight Linda took a deep breath and said, "Well, I suppose I'll just sneak in there and get the coffee now. I need to use the bathroom first but I won't be long."

Linda left the patio door open when she went inside. She took several minutes inside and Larry was beginning to wonder what was holding her up when she returned. She was carrying a tray with the coffee on it and a coffee cake for each of them. Her face was pink and she was breathing heavily. Her nipples tented out her thin blouse. She said, "I'll fix breakfast in a few minutes. I don't want to make noise inside and bother them right now."

Linda had left the door open because she was carrying the tray. After she had set it down she turned back to close the door. As she approached the door all three of them heard, "AHHHH GOD MARK. Oh, Jesus that feels so good." After a moment of quietness Jennifer screamed and they heard Mark Groan. There were a couple of loud slams from the bed headboard hitting the wall then silence once more.

Linda and Sarah blushed but Larry laughed when they heard the two lovers. Linda closed the door then and moved rapidly back to take her seat. The three were just finishing their cake and coffee when Mark and Jennifer came out onto the deck. Mark had a self conscious grin on his face. Jennifer looked relaxed. She had a well fucked look about her but she also looked guilty. She had a slight blush that Larry couldn't decide if it was from her recent sex or embarrassment. In any event he grinned at the two lovers. His grin got bigger then he said, "I assume you will repair the damage to our wall and bed without charging won't you Mark?"

Jennifer's eyes got larger and she blushed deeper. Mark looked shocked then when Larry began laughing he laughed too and said, "Yeah, if you find any damages I'll take care of them."

Jennifer looked around at her smiling friends and straightened up. She said, "I'm sorry you had to listen to that. I knew better but somehow..."

Linda smiled and touched her arm. "Oh you hush. I admit we were a little surprised but...Hey, we're big people now. We're all happy for you. Now sit down and have some coffee while I make breakfast."

Surprising no one when Jennifer moved into her apartment in the old hotel Mark moved in with her. They almost always stopped in to have a drink at Larry's and Linda's bar on the way home. Sometimes they only had tea or a soft drink and sometimes they even had a meal but they rarely missed a day at the bar. All the regulars could see they were growing closer and closer together. It surprised no one when one Saturday evening late Jennifer and Mark came into the bar with their arms around each other. Jennifer stopped at the bar and held her left hand out to show Linda something.

Linda looked at the left ring finger and the beautiful engagement ring on it. She listened to Jennifer a moment then rushed around the end of the bar and hugged her friend. "Have you decided on a wedding date yet," she asked. 

After Linda's hug Jennifer and Mark moved to the table most of their friends were at and showed off the ring once more. The table erupted in yells and catcalls as the news spread. The level of noise in the bar picked up drastically as all within began congratulating the couple.

Seven weeks later Jennifer and Mark married. They continued to live in the two bedroom apartment Jennifer occupied in the old hotel. To Larry's surprise and delight the hotel was a great success. All the two bedroom apartments rented rapidly and stayed full. They used the lower floor for short term rentals mostly but a couple of the one bedroom apartments and studios were on long term rental also. One of Jennifer's relatives was the part time desk clerk and bookkeeper. Mark took care of the maintenance for free as part of their 'rental' agreement.

Almost thirteen months after they were married Jennifer came into the bar and refused to have a drink. She smiled and said, "I can't drink for the next several months. Linda looked at her and said, "You're pregnant too aren't you?"

Larry turned his head toward Linda rapidly and said, "What? Did you say you're pregnant too Honey?"

Linda smiled and moved into Larry's arms and gave him a deep kiss. "Yes. I just found out for sure today honey. You're not upset are you? I was going to wait until we got home tonight to tell you but when Jennifer came in it just slipped out."

Larry grabbed Linda and pulled her to him once more. "Oh HELL no I'm not upset. That's great!" He turned to Jennifer as Mark walked up and wrapped his arm around her waist and asked, "Does Mark know? What does he think about it?"

Mark looked at him and grinned then said, "Know what?" Larry looked guilty for a moment then relaxed when Mark grinned and said, "Oh, you mean about the baby?" He pulled Jennifer into his arms and continued, "Yeah she called me at noon and told me. It's great isn't it? Now I have to get her away from that airplane and all those chemicals. We don't want to take any chances with this one you know."

One Thursday evening just before Linda's and Jennifer's due date Jennifer and Mark came into the bar as they usually did. This time they looked worried for some reason. Larry and Linda looked at each other and began moving toward the table they were headed for. After the two couples were seated Larry said, "OK you two. Why the long faces? Everything's ok with the baby isn't it?"

Jennifer looked over at Larry and said, "Yes. Everything's fine with the baby. We just found out today we may have to move away from the hotel and we don't want to do that. We both just love living here and want to raise the baby here. Child Protective Services called us last night. They took Mark's daughter into custody a couple of days ago because his ex wife's live in boyfriend has been abusing her. They are having a hearing on the child placement and we want to try and get full custody. If that happens we won't have enough room for the four of us so we'll have to move."

Larry sat for a moment then he said, "Not necessarily. Why don't you wait until you see what happens at the hearing before you decide that anyway. I'm sure your baby can sleep in a crib in your bedroom for a few months and your daughter can use the other bedroom if you get her. We may be able to turn one of the one bedroom apartments next to your apartment into a third bedroom for you without much trouble. That would give you another bathroom also you know."

Jennifer looked over at Mark and said, "Could we do that Honey? If we can we could stay here and that's what we both want." She turned and looked at Larry again and said, "If we do that though we need to renegotiate our agreement. I've been feeling a little guilty about how I've taken advantage of you for a while now anyway. I think from now on we will pay you a fair rent on the apartment. You will pay off the loan I made for the renovations next month and the services I provide as the property manager aren't worth the amount of rent you would be losing."

The friends began arguing back and forth discussing the proposal. Finally they agreed that after the loan had been paid in full Mark and Jennifer would pay rent on the large two bedroom apartment they were living in but would not pay additional rent for the one bedroom they would convert to a third bedroom if they got custody of Mark's daughter. The rental value of the third bedroom would compensate them for their time and labor as manager and maintenance persons for the building. If he did not get custody Larry would pay them the rental value of one of the one bedroom apartments as their fee for providing those services.

Considering her age Jennifer had an easy pregnancy. That was, in part, because of her good health and physical fitness but her doctor advised her to not have any further children after her son Charles Fielding Scott was born. Little Charles was born three weeks after Larry and Linda had their son Larry Alexander Wilson.

To no one's surprise the two young men grew up and played together. They became the best of friends and spent many happy days playing in the river and on the grounds of their parent's home and resort. Jennifer took the long way around but in the end she had all that she wanted from life. She had her career in the Navy; she got to fly, married the man of her dreams and had her family. She had taken a new direction, a different direction to happiness than most of the young women who had grown up in and around Steelville but she had arrived at and met all her goals in life.



A New Direction



Part 1 - Emma

MF

Kindly edited by Cambria Rose

Renowned porn star Randy Jones was gasping wildly as the plastic blonde bimbo sucked and caressed him to orgasm. The ever present camera was zooming in closer to catch the money shot. With a final twitch, the thick cum erupts erupted into her mouth and over her face.

"Cut!" 

"That's a wrap guys, good job Debbie you were great." The director shouted, looking at the starlet.

Randy regained his breath and composure. Grabbed an energy drink and gulped the contents down. He watched his co-star walk off to the bathroom to clean up. She looked pretty with her cute bottom, false blonde hair, and fake tits. He thought to himself, These girls are all the same. I need a change of direction, Something different.

At his flat later in the evening, Randy started surfing the net for ideas. Flicking through various streaming tube sites, he came across "public pick-ups." 'Interesting. He thought. Maybe I could use a similar ploy. 'But where to search for the talent. 'that was the big question.

The next morning he called Bob, his usual director and friend. "Bob, I have an idea for a series of new films. Are you free for a pint so I can run through it with you?" 

"I think I can squeeze it in, but not until about 3 o'clock mate." 

"Perfect, I'll meet you at the Manor Inn."

Bob walked into the pub to find Randy already there waiting with a pint of lager for him. "Cheers mate. I need this one its been a busy day, what's on your mind then?" 

"Well Bob, how many films have we made now?" 

"Oh, I think yesterday's shoot made ten. Why do you ask?"

"I've been thinking Bob although I enjoy my job. I think it's getting stale." "All these girls look like they have been cloned lately."

"Didn't you like fucking Debbie yesterday?" Bob asked, looking concerned and thinking he was getting the resignation speech from his best stud.

"No, she was fine but no different to Gemma or that other girl we had the other day. See, they are so similar I can't even remember her name."

'He has a point,' Bob thought. "So what's your remedy to this dilemma then?"

"Reality porn."

"Reality porn! Are you serious?"

"Yep I was looking at some on the net last night and it hit me that's what we need to do."

"So how are you going to get your talent? Newspaper ads, cards in windows?" Bob asked.

"No, I'm going to pick a woman randomly and talk her into making a film with me by offering her cash." Randy replied.

"Bloody hell mate, I can see you getting arrested with this madcap scheme." Bob said with a laugh. "It might work in Prague, but this is prudish England."

"I'm going to try it at the weekend Bob, if you can let me use James for the camera work."

"It's your funeral pal of course you can have James on board, and if you pull it off don't forget to get the paperwork straight. Remember the release forms and for Christ sake, make sure she's eighteen."

"Bob you worry too much Tell James to meet me at 9 am Saturday."

"Where on earth are you going that time of the day?" Bob asked, but wasn't expecting the reply.

"A car boot sale."

Saturday morning James strode over to Randy smiling. "Hey, Bob says were are off to a car boot sale. He's got to be taking the piss."

"No James that's where we are going, come on jump in the car I'll explain on the way."

"Ok James keep filming while we are here. Bob will edit it later." Randy told him. 

"Blimey there's loads of people here." exclaimed James as he started his camera rolling and panning the scene in front of him.

"That's what I was hoping for. Right. Let's start looking around."

Joining the streams of people aimlessly milling around, Randy scanned the sellers at the first few stalls. James covertly filmed his every move with his hidden camera. Coming to the end of the first line of stalls, James said. "Bloody hell mate, it's full of old biddies and blokes.You have excelled yourself this time!" 

Randy just smiled. "Patience James, I'll find what I'm looking for, just wait and see."

Randy smiled to himself. About half way round he spotted his first potential target. A tall brunette whom he guessed to be around twenty-eight years old. With his fine features and build he confidently moved into her stall, James close behind him.

Picking up some Cds on the table in front of her, He started his charming patter. How much did she want for them? The idle chit chat seemed to be going fine and he felt she was warming to him. So he confidently asked her. "How much money do you normally take home from one of these boot sales?" 

"That depends, last week I made about fifty quid."

"Is that ali? It's not worth the effort, I have a proposition for you, how would you like to make five hundred pounds this afternoon?"

"Five hundred pounds, how?" She replied with a look of concern.

"Well I make films, and you're stunningly attractive. Just the kind of girl I'm looking for to star in my latest project."

"What sort of film?" The penny dropped. "Oh my god! you can't be serious,"

"Why not?"

She cut him off, with a slap to the face. She would have kicked him too but couldn't because of the paste table full of her stuff. 

Randy jumped back quickly and laughed. "I'll take that as a no then." He drop a business card onto her table."If you change your mind give me a call." He walked away.

It was then he realised James was still filming, although he was laughing so much the camera footage must be very shaky.

"Thanks mate, that was the funniest thing I've seen in awhile. Wait till Bob sees this."

Undeterred, Randy and James kept moving around the boot sale. "Let's get a drink from that burger van over there." James suggested.

"Good idea, an ice cold Coke would go down nicely."

Emma Hawker looked over the counter as James arrived to buy the Cokes. "Yes Sir what can I get for you?"

"Two ice cold Cokes please, Love." He noticed her red hair and slim build. 

"One pound sixty please, Sir."

He handed her a two pound coin. "There you are Love, keep the change."

Handing the Coke to Randy, They sat down at the tables beside the van. "Mate you need to check out the bird serving."

"You only want to see me get slapped again!" Randy replied.

"I'm serious she's a cracker, aged about 20 I reckon."

Randy stood up "Hungry? I'll order a couple of burgers. Nothing ventured and all that."

Randy reached the counter and saw what James was on about. He was right, she was a pretty thing. Placing his order for two burgers, Randy started chatting to her. Emma casually answering the idle chit chat thinking he seemed to be a nice bloke.

"How long have you been flipping burgers then?" He asked. 

"I have been doing this about a year now, just weekends. It helps pay for things while I'm studying."

"what are you studying?" 

"I'm a student nurse." Emma replied.

Trying a different approach than the ploy he tried earlier he said, "As a student I bet finding money for things is difficult. If you want to make some easy money give me a call later." He handed over his card.

"Ok thanks, enjoy your burgers." Emma said with her usual smile.

Randy was talking to James about the next move when his phone lit up."I bet that's the bird that slapped you." James laughed.

"Hello, Randy Jones agency, how can I help you?" Randy answered his phone in a business kind of way.

"Oh hi my name's Emma. You gave me your card earlier, can you give me some information on the modelling your agency does?"

Randy ran though a few of the things his agency did."I tell you what Emma, why don't you come down to the studio do a screen test." "And I can show you some of the work we do. I can fit you in anytime today or Sunday."

"A screen test? What's one of those?"

"Oh just a few shots to see what you look like on film, nothing drastic. I promise." 

"That sounds ok, where is the studio?" 

"12a Higher Street just off the main shopping centre."

"Would five o'clock be ok or is that too late?"

"No five's great, no problem."

"I'll see you then."

"Ok, bye Emma."

"We are in business James. Get your equipment and lights all set up." Randy said. 

"Was that the burger van girl?" James asked.

"That's the one."

He worked quickly getting all the cameras and lighting rigged up all across the studio. "Randy I've set things up for a wall shoot and the bed setting." 

"Ok, we will use the wall first and see how it goes. I don't want to frighten the girl off."

There was a rap on the door a short while later. James quickly opened it. "Hi, you must be Emma. My name is James and I'm the photographer for your screen test come on in."

Randy sat behind the desk. "Hi Emma I have some paperwork here that you need to sign and also can you confirm your age for me please."

"I'm Twenty." she said as she looked at the paperwork Randy had handed to her. Picking up the pen and signing the documents without really looking at them closely, she handed them back to him.

"Ok Emma here's some of the stuff we do. As you can see, it's all glamour work. You can make one hundred to two hundred pounds doing this kind of soft shoot." She flicked through the brochure full of swimwear and lingerie clad models. "But the real money is made with the stronger adult stuff. You can make anything from five hundred pound to a thousand, depending on what you are prepared to do."

He turned his computer monitor around. "Do you want to see an example of some one thousand pound work?" 

"Err no, I think the soft beachwear stuff is enough for me."

"Ok that's not a problem, are you ready for a photo test?"

"Yea I think so, but I didn't know what to wear."

"Don't worry you are fine in what you have on. We do have a changing room and some swimwear for you to use later. But let's just see how the camera likes you first."

James made Emma stand near the wall and turned on the lights, gently directing her in to simple poses.

"Well you look really pretty, but how tall are you?" Randy asked.

"Five foot three without my heels on." replied Emma.

James asked her to turn around and bend down taking shots of her denim clad backside as she bent over. "Look back at me Emma." James directed her. "That's great ok straighten up and turn around." 

"I have the basic shots, would you be comfortable in continuing the shoot with a little less clothes on?"

"Why?" 

"Just so we can see what kind of body you have for the swimwear." 

"Right, start off by kicking off those heels and unbuttoning your blouse a little." Again she did as she was instructed. "That's nice, now undo one more button." James carried on clicking away with his camera. 

Randy looked over from his desk adding. "If you are happy Emma, do you want to try on the swimwear?" 

She thought about it and replied. "Yea ok I'll try it." 

Randy got up and led her to a room along the corridor from the wall she was posing by. "There you go, have a rummage through that lot, find one you like and come out when you are ready." Randy exited the room and closed the door behind him.

While she was changing, James had switched on the video cameras and had put a fresh memory stick into his camera. As Emma entered the room Randy took in her swimwear clad body. Looking her up and down, he admired her modest natural breasts, Which he guessed were about 34c. Her flat stomach and nice shapely legs added to her appeal. Again James expertly directed her into innocent poses. After taking about twenty shots he called a break.

"Emma it's quite hot in front of all these lights, would you care for a cold drink and a break. I have some water or Coke in the fridge."

"Water's fine, thanks James."

While she drank her drink and James replaced the batteries in his camera, Randy decided to up the ante. "Emma, I have printed off some of the pictures we have taken, care to take a look?" he said as he handed her some glossy snaps.

"As you can see, you look really good in front of the camera." "But for the fashion industry you're, shall we say, vertically challenged." pausing he added. "They require taller models so it would be difficult to get you work in that field."

"Oh." Emma said disappointed. 

Randy then remarked. "But if you would consider the adult side of things I guarantee you plenty of work and cash."

"What does adult work entail?" 

"Well nude pictures and if you really want to make some cash, video work."

Randy could see the cogs turning in Emma's head, As she weighed up the suggestion. "I tell you what, why don't you have a go. We will guide you through it and if you aren't happy, Just call a halt and we will stop filming."

James chipped in with. "We don't usually pay anything for a screen test, but if you give it a go we will pay you cash on the spot."

Emma thought about it. "How much cash?" 

"Depends on how far you are prepared to go. A full scene with another model and you are looking at a grand."

James again piped up. "What have you got to lose Emma, will love it."

"Who will be the other model?" 

"That's me." replied Randy.

"Oh." She stood there transfixed at his words.

"Look, we won't make you do anything you are not happy with, just go with the flow." Randy coaxed.

She took a deep breath and murmured. "Ok, I'll try it." 

"Great you won't regret it, I promise. We will take it slow, follow me Emma." Leading her back to the changing room she was in earlier, Randy opened a chest of drawers full of lingerie. "Take your pick from that little selection and come into the studio, opposite this room when you are ready."

Closing the door behind him Randy went into the studio, a nicely set bedroom scene, to prepare for the next stage of the photo shoot.

Randy grinned as he noticed her enter the room. "Ok Emma, just as before listen to James's instructions, take your time and enjoy yourself."

James told her to sit on the edge of the bed. He panned the video camera over her pretty face and down her body, lingering around her boobs and crotch area. Moving away he then started giving the instructions. Again nothing too untoward, as he had her reclining back and then sitting up. He complimented her all the time.

Emma started to relax and pose more naturally. James decided it was time to get her to caress herself over her bra. Seeing her comply he added. "Slowly undo the bra and slip it off" 

Emma hesitated. 

Randy thought she was going to bail. But she did as James had requested and her pert tits were now there in all their glory. "I can't believe I'm doing this." Emma said in a croaky, nervous voice.

"I am going to join you on the bed, now don't be alarmed just go with it. You'll be fine I promise." Randy said as he sat down next to her. 

He put his hand on her shoulder. He felt her tense up as she gasped at his contact. Randy held her for a while then started slowly caressing her shoulder. Feeling and hearing no resistance, he lowered his head and softly kissed her neck. Emma held her breath as the caressing hand left her shoulder. It gently brushed her nipples sending sparks flying in her head. Randy quickly moved his head down and clamped his mouth over her right breast, flicking the nipple with his expert tongue.

Her eyes closed and she let out a soft moan as the expert flicked and licked the now excited nipple. Randy lowered his hand down and started caressing her leg causing her to tense up again. He moved off her breast, looked straight in her eyes, and gave her a full kiss on the lips. Surprising her, gently he pushed her back onto the bed. He started playing with her nipples again all the while caressing her legs with his free hand.

Randy moved his caressing hand over the front of her panties. Gently cupping her mound and feeling a damp patch forming, he knew he had her where he wanted her.

Slowly he slipped his finger under the gusset of the panties and felt the soft ginger hair. Still feeling no resistance to the intruding finger, he gently pushed it further under the lace until he felt her wet slit. 

Reaching down he deftly ripped the panties off. Tossing them onto the floor as Emma gasped again. She realised she was now totally naked but again raised no protest. Randy resumed his caressing of her slit locating Emma's tiny clit. He flicked it lightly with his finger sending more sparks into her overloading pleasure senses. He moved down her body and spread her slim legs wide. He gazed longingly at her lightly ginger haired pussy and lowered his mouth onto her clit.

Emma jumped at the new sensations, let out a strangled cry and started bucking as her first orgasm hit her. Randy lapped her juices and inserted a finger into her pussy. 

'Bloody hell she's tight, I'm going to enjoy fucking this.' He thought. Letting her get her breath back he moved away and got rid of his clothes. 

Emma felt his weight lift from the bed. Bringing her head up she came face to face with Randy's big twelve inch cock. "Oh my god." she exclaimed. Her previous boyfriend had six inches and she thought that was big! 

"Its ok. Emma just gently stroke it." As if in a trance she did just that feeling its power. "Just give it a small kiss." Again she complied. After a while, she opened her mouth and Randy pushed slowly in.

About half way she started gagging Randy pulled back let her get some air, then pushed forward again. As she gagged again he didn't try to force the issue, the deep throat technique could be taught another day. 

Randy pulled away from Emma. And then he pushed her back down onto the bed. Taking hold of her ankles he pulled her to the edge of the bed. He spread her legs and in one movement jumped in between them. Grabbing his large cock still coated in her saliva, Randy slowly pressed the tip onto her clit and rubbed up and down her tight slit. 

Emma moaned and shivered as the cock caress continued. James moved the camera down behind Randy so he had a perfect view for when the first penetration occurred.

James didn't have to wait long. Again looking Emma straight in the eye Randy slipped the head into her tight hole. Emma squealed as Randy kept the slow pressure on. His big cock gently went deeper and deeper. He reached the five inch mark and started bucking in and out at that depth. As he felt Emma responding, he slipped another inch. Hitting untouched territory Randy marvelled at the sensation around his cock as her pussy clamped tight around him.

He had been slowly fucking her for about ten minutes, when Randy grabbed her legs and pushed them up onto his shoulders. He pulled right back and plunged in to the hilt. Emma's eyes flew open. A scream emitted from her mouth. He held there deep in her, the tip of his cock snug against her cervix. His large balls rested tight against her arse. As she calmed down Randy started moving. In and out, making the strokes longer and longer, Until he was pulling all the way out and all the way back in.

Emma was bucking underneath him she never knew sex could be so good. Or last so long. Randy ploughed on and on. Soon she started to cum as massive orgasm hit her in waves. As she calmed down, Randy slowed the thrusts down. 

"I told you, you wouldn't regret it." He said and without pulling out. He rolled over onto his back "Come on ride that big cock" Emma now on top of him, she started to move on his cock.

"Oh christ that's so big." she cried. After ten minutes of riding his cock and two orgasms later Emma slowed down.

Sensing her tiredness Randy rolled over again so he was on top and started drilling her again really fast. He felt his big balls churning, he was getting close. His long strokes were getting ragged and Emma too knew he was close. He pitched into her hard shaking and let out a loud moan. 

"Fuck yea take it all." He unloaded into her, giving Emma her first ever creampie. She felt it flood into her deep like a dam burst. His cock twitched inside her as more cum spewed out, then when the twitching stopped he pulled out with a plop.




A New Direction



Emma lay there in a complete daze, come pouring from her well used swollen open pussy. James continued filming. Randy handed her a towel and said. "You were amazing Emma."

"You weren't so bad yourself. God I'm exhausted." she replied.

"Here have a drink, there's a shower over in the corner if you want to freshen up," 

"That will be good." Emma said as she slowly limped away.

"Christ that was awesome, just you wait till Bob gets hold of this to edit." James said. 

"It sure was. I tell you what, that was the most enjoyable film I've ever made. He can forget his scripts and plastic bimbos, that's for sure." 

James shouted through the shower room door. "Emma, we will be in the other room. Come through when you are done." Hearing a muffled ok, they made their way to the office.

Emma was still in a bit of a daze when she arrived at Randy's desk. "Right young lady, we promised you some cash didn't we." 

Nodding her head, she looked astonished as Randy counted out a thousand pounds and handed it to her. "You really earned that and if you are up for it I can get you more work. You don't need burgers anymore, we have your details we will be in touch."

Emma left the studio and made her way home. Randy and James replayed the footage and agreed that was a right result.

Bob was amazed when he saw it. "Right you two, I'll let you carry on with your series. We could make a killing out of this concept." 

"Mind you, my favourite part was the slap to the face." Bob said laughing loudly.



A New Direction



He was fit and tight.

Infantry, I thought. 

It was 1955.

Miz Connie's was a boarding house. Detroit. Autoworkers, most of us.

He came in a cab. From the railway station. "Just this suitcase. Gotta room?"

She put him in a room off the foyer. Private.

Most of us stay in the what we call the barracks bunks twelve men loud and public.

He paid his money. Private room. Clean sheets.

I paid a visit. He was laying on his bed. Still had on those drab brown Army drawers.

I sat down on the foot of the bed. Fished out a smoke. Lit up.

"Army?" I said. Offered him a Newport. He took.

Damn, he's fine. Even wearing those brown drawers.

"Yeah." His eyes are dreamy. Look me up and down.

We smoke. Pretend we ain't checking each other out.

"Korea?"

"Naw. Berlin. Three years. Intelligence."

I nod. He extinguishes his cigarette.

"God it's hot. Thought I left the heat down there in Georgia." He puts his arm up over his head. Staring at the ceiling. 

"Yeah," I say. Take a drag on my cigarette. 

"Well." I crush my butt next to his in the ashtray.

"Detroit," I say. "Motor city."

"Yeah," he replies. "I guess I gotta find myself a job."

"Or a pimp."

"What?"

"Nothing. Just nothing." My hand on his thigh, just above his knee. He spreads his legs.

"A job." His voice is quieter now. He don't remove my hand. Slide it up a few more inches. He moans.

"You experienced? Ever done this?"

"What?" I tickle just inside those starchy drawers. "No. I'm not. I mean."

"Don't mean a thing," I say. I allow him to contemplate. I got time.

I withdraw my hand. His legs stay spread. I pull out my pouch and roll a joint.

"Ever done this?" I lick the edge of the wrapper, roll it tight, light up with my Zippo. Mmmm. Take the smoke deep. So nice.

He still lay there, legs spread.

"I don't know what..." 

Shush I say just do it. Night not so dark no more just floating.

He reaches takes the joint touches my fingers puts it to his pretty lips

Coughs, splutters. "Hell, this ain't no cigarette!" Loud. 

Baby, calm down. It's alright. I thought you knew. My hand is now all up his thigh, inside those brown boxers. Marijuana, baby, help you relax. His legs still spread, his little cock pink poking, peeking through the slit.

"Okay, yeah, okay." He wants to play it cool. No reaction to my hand rubbing all up against his thigh. His little boy cock so cute, so hard, inviting. 

He smokes the joint, inhales. "Hold it," I whisper, fingering his balls.

I see his eyes. He's stoned. Focused on a dream a million miles away. I take his little cock in my mouth. He moans. He knows the drill.

"What the fuck?" But he don't move to stop, don't pull away.

"You done this before, baby?"

"No. God no. I ain't queer. What...what's happening."

"That's it sweetie. Just happening. Just let it happen."

He's still laying there on the bed, legs spread. He takes another toke. "Oh," he says. "Oh, this is nice."

I feel behind his balls. He lifts his ass a little, moans. I touch his hole. "Oh," he says and smiles at me. "Oh, that's nice." And giggles. He's so cute.

I stand up, drop my pants, my cock springs forth.

"Smoke on this, sugar," I hear myself say, and he willingly opens his mouth and engulfs my manhood.

"Mmmmm, mmmmm, mmmmm," he says, swallowing my cock. His nose is in my pubes. It's foggy, dream-like. White boy eating my cock. Roach in the ashtray. So nice.

I pull his head unwillingly off my shit. "Slow down, baby." We both giggling. He raise up and kiss me on the lips. "You're so fine," he says and cups my balls. His hand is...what...petite. And my big hairy balls. I'm laughing and I don't know why. But he. He raise up again and kiss me on the lips.

He slips out his drawers, he naked, like the day he born. So pretty. Such a pretty whiteboy. Naked like the day he born.

"Take off your clothes," he whispers. "Come into bed with me." He raise up, kiss me on the lips. I taste sex, desire on his tongue.

"I think," I say I make a resolution get my pouch, "I think I roll another joint."

He giggles. Grabs my balls, gives my erect cock a couple strokes. "Yeppers." He licks my nipple, burrows his face into my pit. "I think the situation calls for another." Seems to lose his train of thought. Gives my cock a languid stroke. "Yes." Giggle. "Definitely yessur." His naked whiteboy body all up against mine, his nose in my pit, tongue licking out the sweat. Moaning like a bitch. It's hot.

"I got to roll this, sugar. Hold off a minute."

Damn, he slide down to my cock. Lick my balls. Well, he do that, I still can roll. Aww, damn!

I light up, take a drag. Pull up his reluctant head from my throbbing dick and give him a toke. He's shitless in the wind. Starts sucking me again. I lean back on the pillow, smoke, enjoy the moment.

He comes up for air. "I love your cock," he says and lays his pretty whiteboy head upon my breast. I can smell him. He smells good. He smells...I laugh out loud...he nuzzles my nipple in a desultory way...he smells like a pretty whiteboy. I laugh out loud like a man.

"Is this what faggots do?" he asks. I thought he fell asleep, nursing like a baby on my nipple.

"What?" I'm still not sure...things...foggy.

"Faggot, faggot, faggot, faggot, queer," he says. "Oh, yes. So nice." He is asleep, it seems. Talking in his...dreaming. His petite hand cupped around my balls. Oh, yes. So nice. I kiss the crown of his head resting on my chest and sigh. And drift.

"Damn, boy. Where you get them lips?" I come awake suddenly, boy down there Hoovering my dick, suck so good it hurts. I'm in his bed. Yes, I remember. He on all four, prettyboy ass up, face all down in my crotch. Damn. Suck my dick so good it hurts. And that ass.

Wiggling that cute ass. Naked cute whiteboy ass. Claim it's virgin. I don't know. I mean. So cute. So smooth. And he suck so good.

Aaagh. Aaagh. Yes. Aagh. Yes. Ah. Yes. Okay. Yes. Well, now he have a bellyful, just like he wanted I guess or he wouldn't have wrapped those pretty lips around my cock now huh. He raise up smile and kiss me and I taste me on his tongue. 

He stretch and show his little pink hard. 

"Good morning. That was great. Thank you. I never knew...sex...well, that was great." 

He stroll across the room, pick up a comb, preen a bit I think, push out his butt, and start to comb his hair. 

"Definitely yessur." He say seemingly to hisself, turn his head, glance at me over his shoulder, puffy pouty lips and plump pretty whiteboy ass. Damn.