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Risk

By: Araddion



Silas had lips the color of cotton candy and they were just as sweet. A goatee framed them. On him it was very Dionysian indeed, for Silas' hair was glossy black. Logan had his tongue thrust between Silas' lips, and he was crotch to crotch with Silas, trembling on the edge of mating--this time not in Unshocked, their favorite club, but in Logan's bedroom.

Untrue. They were in their bedroom. As of today, Logan no longer soloed. Silas' clothing now lived in Logan's closets, not too alien a sight since Silas had spent many weekends here before he moved in. Some photos of Silas' buddies from back home sat uneasily on the nightstand, unsure of their new and queer home. As well as the picture of the cute blond surfer they'd picked up in Key West. A quaintly queer memento of their first threesome. The videotape of that encounter was shelved beneath the big screen in the living room.

The bed was indeed theirs. They had picked it out together last weekend. It now awaited them like a desert waits for the gods to breathe life into it. That divine breath would come tonight--very soon. Logan needed this.

Logan's arms encircled Silas' bare torso and cupped his hard buttocks. Their bodies swayed, remembering the sexy trance beats that Unshocked's spinmaster had delivered. Silas' long, slender cock throbbed through his jeans against Logan's. Nothing surpassed being crotch to crotch with Silas. Watching each other's back, they were a fortress.

I don't want anything else but this, he thought. Forever. 

They had been hard for each other all night, grinding and writhing together in Unshocked's chaotic lightshow, riding each other and the music. It had been not merely good music but great music, and Logan had responded on the sexual level. His briefs were soaked with precum and dangerously stretched from his own godlike endowment. Silas, having gone commando, had raised a tent no Baptist revival would ever be held under. Though his endowment was nowhere near as monstrous as Logan's, Silas attracted looks in many other ways.

Silas broke the kiss, pulling away. He stared intently back at Logan. Over his eyes arched eyebrows thick and prominent, but there was no air of the Neanderthal to him. Gold dust had been strewn across his brown irises, and the sclerae were luminous against his maplewood-colored skin. 

"You're here," whispered Logan, aching. "Finally."

"Finally," breathes Silas. He began to unbutton Logan's silk shirt.

"Gunter looked disappointed," said Logan. A disappointed Gunter was a rarity. Gunter was the short, muscled, blond buzz-cut bartender down at Unshocked. Logan knew him to be donkey-pronged, to have an eminently fuckable ass, to burn with an incredible libido, and to give away lots of good, fun drugs. Tonight, on this greatest of great nights, Gunter had seen the two dancing and, as he said, been enthused. So he had showered them with free booze, and provided two joints and a bottle of Blue Boy poppers. Not too long before they left he made an indecently immodest proposal. Any other night Silas and Logan would have taken him up on it. But tonight, they had looked at each other ruefully, and in a fit of conventionality decided that, no, it was more important that this night be theirs.

"We'll take care of Gunter later," said Silas, grinning. His fingers danced on Logan's nipples.

Logan's cock surged and throbbed. He quickly stripped. He had been horny too long for much foreplay. Things were moving towards an...inevitability. But they weren't there yet, and Logan needed to make it happen, before the moment dissolved in the acid that was life.

Then Silas was naked in Logan's arms, and he deftly guided that ex-running back into their bed. Logan laid on his back, Silas a pleasant weight on top of him. His fingers roamed the thick, coarse hair on Silas's thigh. Their limbs entwined and their lingual affinity resumed. 

Through the window streamed the city's light, lurid on the underbellies of the gravid clouds hanging above. A grayish-orange glow drenched the shopping promenade across the river, while beyond the towers of the business district grew like a forest of steel-and-glass prisms. The glow enaureoled Silas, transformed his silhouette into a presence so ethereal Logan's heart almost broke as he thought of how the convolutions of fate might have kept them from knowing each other.

Like a zephyr, Silas' kisses trailed down Logan's body...between his nipples, past his navel. He took Logan's fat nuts into his mouth, worshipped at the source of those massive loads which left condoms sloshing with spunk. 

"Lick me."

Silas laved the heavy sack, his breath exploding in snorts against Logan's perineum. Logan let him work unimpeded until Silas, impatient too, moved his mouth to Logan's cockhead. That brought the inevitable explosion too close. He wanted to juice later, and that made it imperative that Silas pay more attention to his shaft and stop tonguing his plum-colored head. Gently, Logan took Silas' skull between his palms and guided his throat down his shaft. Silas murmured contentedly; he knew what Logan needed.

Silas used to live in some hick town, overrun with Walmarts and Autozones now that the combined efforts of FDR and LBJ were consigned to the History Channel's fervid documentaries. Fortune, by cleverly denying Logan a directional sense, had brought him there; he had left the interstate looking for food, turned right instead of left or something of the sort, and unexpectedly encountered a kamikaze deer, which sacrificed itself for Artemis on the grill of Logan's Navigator. Silas had been a grease monkey in the body shop where the AAA tow truck brought Logan's bloodied SUV. For Logan it had been lust at first sight, always a good sign of something long-term. Conversation had proven easy. Logan had a thing for football players--he was irresistibly drawn, and it had led to trouble. But not this time. Logan's eye fell upon a photo, pinned to a corkboard on his workbench, of Silas as a running back on his high school team. His orange jersey had blazed the number 7 as if it was the length of his cock. Logan made no secret of being gay. Within two hours Silas had a mouth full of Logan's jism, a phone number, and a standing invitation.

Silas slid Logan's rod into his velvety throat. Logan sighed and prayed that, in surrendering to this extended blowjob, he hadn't blown the buttfucking. Silas' throat moved on his cock, and his tongue slithered along Logan's pulsing urethra. He ground his pubic hair against Silas' face, thrusting. Spit made sloppy his thick pubic snatch. Logan fought the urge to surrender to the ultimate pleasure, his fingers curling in Silas' hair and setting the pace to something low-gear. 

If it had been any other night, Logan would have replayed over and over again that scene in the body shop's restroom and enjoyed this blowjob as long as Eros permitted. Perhaps he even would have asked Silas to put on his jersey and his jockstrap and service him.

Not right. Not for this tonight. This is just Silas and me.

He pulled Silas off, rolled him over onto his back.

"Good boy," he breathed. The sapidity on his lips must be Silas' saliva. "Too fucking good. I gotta screw you. Now."

Silas lifted his head up. "About fucking time."

On the nightstand sat a half-used bottle of lube, which Logan tossed to Silas. Gunter's icy bottle of Blue Boy poppers, sweating in the night, followed. Logan tossed the bottle to Silas. He dug into the drawer and retrieved a packet of Trojan Magnums. It was between his teeth, unopened, when Silas, quiet, his eyes warm as beacons on a winter's night, touched his arm. Logan felt that a ghost had passed through the room, raising the wolf's hair on the back of his neck.

"Leave it off."

"You sure?" Precum oozed.

"Yeah. Do it raw," Silas pleaded. "We're together now."

His groin quivered in an electric, unearthly way he hadn't felt since he was a teenager lusting for a quarterback. His foreskin fully retracted, revealing an excitedly greasy head. A translucent droplet of dew dangled from his pisslips. "You absolutely sure?"

"Yeah," grinned Silas. "I'm absofuckinglutely sure."

So this is it. He knows it's me. Logan lifted Silas' legs. The furry, hard-muscled calves on his shoulders were burdens he, a modern Sisyphus, was eager to bear. Silas' hand, dripping with lube, took Logan's prong and reverently slicked it up. Another dollop went onto Silas' bright pink and crinkled ring, a succulent meadow in a hairy valley.

Logan fought to restrain his balls, quaking with bursting energy, as he pressed his cockhead into the sweaty asscrack. He felt fertile, brimming with life and energy. He wanted to do nothing more than pour gallons of his juice--his potency, his reason for existence--into Silas. His heart hammered, and the beautiful black-haired vision shimmered below him as if distorted by a desert's heat.

Fortune presents gifts not according to the books. What enigmatic voice had pronounced those words Logan could not recall, but he did remember them, and thought about them often. It was rare and awesome--in the ancient sense of the word, when it was used only when something of the immortal and transcendent manifested itself in the mournful and decaying world--to have someone like Silas. Few things mattered to Logan, but Silas was definitely a thing that mattered very much. Had Logan waited to take the next exit of that interstate, or turned right instead of left, Silas would have been to Logan a poem forever unread, and the joy of this merger would have been something that Logan could only suspect could exist, could never have actually known. Each of them opened doors within each other that had been shut for years. Logan had stayed away from non-scene fags for years, because once he had met a hunky quarterback at a college bar, and had suffered a broken nose after misjudging the amount of Jagermeister the jock had consumed and making an indecently immodest proposal. Silas had defrosted old fears, reminded Logan that his world existed inside a larger world, like those Russian dolls that nest one inside the other. 

What am I to him? No need to ask Silas that. Logan knew. Logan had found in Silas some ungerminated seeds of curiosity, immune miraculously to the pesticide of schools, and he took Silas places where those seeds had blossomed. Silas had learned there was a larger world, and he showed his gratitude every time they made love.

As Logan hung in the poignant moment before he thrust--a perfect moment of love and lust, which is all Logan really wanted out of life--he wished he could imprison Silas in amber, like Jurassic insects, perfect and preserved forever.

He thrust. Suddenly his flesh was inside. Inside. 

"You're wet," Logan found himself whispering. "You're so fucking wet." Silas quivered, alive, impaled on his cock.

Once, Logan had indulged in psychedelic mushrooms. Sometime during the trip it had been revealed to him that the key to living was moisture. That mucousy feeling lining the inside of a nose was shared by all life even in distant parts of the universe where strange stars gaze from the void. And right now...warm, greasy oysters squirmed on Logan's cockhead. He felt Silas' heartbeat as deeply as if it were his own.

Logan pressed inwards. Silas absorbed his monstrosity, releasing a long contented sigh as the inches burrowed inwards. It was no longer the struggle it had been for Silas to take Logan's cock. It had become natural...the way God intended. Like flesh rutting on flesh.

His eyes. They were dangerous. His eyes. Logan, his cock euphoric with hot, living flesh sliding upon it, sank into the athlete in his bed. Golden dust whirled past his vision like bees disturbed from clover in a high meadow. Inside it was dark and deliciously sinful. There really was no point at even looking at the naked juncture of their bodies. Pornography itself, tactile and tight, twitched on Logan's shaft. 

Existing only in the primordial realm of feeling, Logan's animal self, latent in humans insanely rationality, took charge. Potent images throbbed to drums in his heart. Torches flared on the dark tortured landscape inside Logan, and Silas' face peered from each coruscation.

"You're in me," Silas panted.

"I'm in you." He began to rock back and forth. He heard a disembodied groan, ghostly if not ghoulish, but it wasn't Silas...it was himself, praising the beauty of life. The motion on his shaft of the delicate and throbbing flesh, smooth like calf's liver, was his long sought-for obliteration. 

The pallid city light gave a zombie cast to their flesh, but it did not matter, for all the beauty in the world was invaded by his raw cock and time was measured only by the slow and ecstatic stroking of his cock inside the body beneath him.

"I'm gonna be in you forever," Logan said. 

Silas lifted the bottle of poppers to his nose and breathed its heady jinni. His rectum spasmed on Logan's plunging cock. The fiery-eyed and slack-jawed bliss which spread across Silas' face was something Logan could watch with endless fascination. 

And then Silas put the bottle under Logan's nose, and the blood pulsing inside him burned hot as a hydrogen fire, and it seemed pointless to try and moderate what he felt. Their new bed groaned and creaked with the powerful thrusts he sliced into that tightly muscled ass. The wall lent a bass thump, his pounding slamming the headboard against it.

"It hurts," gasped Silas. He again whiffed Blue Boy's alchemical spirit. "So fucking deep."

"You're sweet, baby, so fucking sweet." Logan remembered the first time he'd ever said that to Silas. In a bathhouse, the first night they had hunted for other's flesh openly. It had been Silas' introduction to polyandry, and he was a fast learner. The sling room Silas had chosen as his lair that night, his lust a hydra that consumed sword after sword and grew ever stronger. Logan himself had spent some hours in the back fuck-booths, screwing sweating hot bodies on a vinyl mat. Stepping back in the slingroom he had found Logan, fucked to the point of delirium, with eight condoms sloshing with cum discarded on the floor beneath the sling like so many dead seashells. Logan had knelt, kissed Silas' abused and throbbing ring. So fucking sweet. 

After that night, Logan knew--as he'd long suspected--that Silas was equally of the spirit and of the flesh, of heaven and of earth, and entirely his.

Logan rolled his hips, reveling in the bliss of flesh. He kissed Silas with furious urgency. The suction inside Silas--the manifestation of the need his lover had to be fucked--goaded Logan's balls towards unleashing fiery gouts of his potency. His chest was tight. Hot beads of sweat ran down his nose like molten lead.

"Fuck me." 

Logan responded, his motions urgent and hard. Had Antinuous stared into the Emperor Hadrian's eyes long ago in the same way Silas now stared at Logan?

"I'm fucking you."

"Fuck me."

"Always."

The slapping of flesh began its crescendo. The headboard clattered madly against the wall. Logan grinned as Silas took another hit of poppers.

"You like this?" Logan whispers hoarsely.

"Uhhh--"

"Hard and fast? Like those guys in the sling?"

Silas gurgled, bucked in the bed against his lover's hard thrusts, beyond words.

"Wanna get a sling? I wanna watch guys fuck you. Here." 

"...yeah..."

"You like me fucking you like this?"

"...ah, yeah, like this..."

"Too fucking hot, man. I'm gonna shoot."

"Shoot it in me."

Logan rammed, and rammed harder, his balls slapping stridently against Silas' asscrack. The bed rose, the world rose, everything rose, ahead of them was the blinding light where God dwelt--

A thunderbolt exploded along his spine. Orgasm whiplashed him. He skewered Silas deep. The unbelievable pressure in his balls burst in a torrent, coursed through his urethra, and flooded hot, thick pleasure into Silas' butt. Vaguely Logan was aware of Silas' orgasm--gouts of warm slime drizzled his chest--but there was nothing more important to him, at this moment, than the sperm coursing through his cock, pouring into the man he loved. Four times, five times, six times--and Logan knew each time he had to be firing a teaspoon of cum into Silas. Nine times, ten times, would it ever stop? For fuck's sake he hoped it never would.

It ended suddenly, as if an invisible entity had released the scruff of Logan's neck. He collapsed onto Silas, panting. Sweat dripped, intermingled, became salty rivers running over their pulsing, warm, moist flesh. He'd shot so much jism up Silas' butthole it felt as if his cockhead swam in thick cream of mushroom soup.

"Don't ever leave me. Not after that."

"I'm not leaving," says Silas. "I'm positive."

Logan could hear no better word. He had dreaded it for so long. The weekend before he discovered his paradise, this jockstrapped athelete whose butthole now bubbled sperm-scented farts, he'd found Gunter in the bathhouse's slingroom. The rumors were all true. Gunter was endowed. Gunter had good drugs. Gunter loved to bottom, and had grunted like a pig as Logan's raw monstrosity plunged furiously in his rectum. Gunter liked to talk, and he, too, was positive.

Risk



First of all, I want to thank everyone for reading my previous two stories. Your comments are always appreciated. As with the other two stories, this one is not a stroke story so if that's what you're after, it's best you move on now This is a romance, a character study if you will and what I've always enjoyed reading about is people, even here on Literotica. As with most true romances, this one may take some time to develop so be patient. Here is my contribution. As always, this is a work of fiction. Only the bicycles are real.

Part One

"I could never wear that. That's sick. How could you even think to ask me that? I never want to see you again."

With those words, the little world I had imagined for myself came to a crashing end. Susan stormed out of my life, out of the house I had bought for us, taking the clothes, (but not those clothes), I had bought for her, the jewelry and the BMW convertible I had put in her name, vowing never to return.

Luckily, we weren't married yet, not even living together. I had wanted to and now was grateful she had told me she wasn't ready. I wondered if she had somehow seen something I hadn't but decided not. She certainly wasn't that insightful. Perhaps she had just been in it for the money. I just didn't know.

I heard from her lawyer of course, but there was nothing much to say. She had no case. There really had been no "ours" just hers and mine. She had her job, her apartment and her own life as did I. It was just as well.

I had loved her, or at least thought I did and believed it when she said she loved me. Perhaps she did. She was no great beauty, hardly a ten, but neither was I. She was more like a five or six to be honest, but she was pleasant enough and I enjoyed being with her. I had no illusions about myself either. I was certainly not a "ten" myself and was realistic to expect that I wasn't going to get one. I was shorter than average (in more ways than one to be honest) and slightly over weight. Although only thirty, there was already a bald patch on the top of my head. My glasses were thick, my hair thin and I felt completely ill at ease around women. It was a miracle I had met Susan at all. I did not expect another.

With her departure early that summer, I threw myself into my work. I was a day trader, working out of couple of rooms in the house I bought with Susan's encouragement. I know what you think. Most day traders fail, most, but not all. I had a knack for it, a talent if you will, for spotting trends before they became trends, sensing when stocks would slide or climb. I was hardly perfect. In fact I had some really bad days where I lost more money than most people make in a couple of years but then I had those days where everything I touched turned to gold, and I had enough of those good days that at the end of the year, they more than made up for the bad ones. At tax time my accountant informed me that I owed the IRS a huge amount of money. I wrote out the check, almost glad because I realized that if I owed them that much, it meant that I had made a hell of a lot more than that. That was all that mattered. It had become more a game to me. Money was how I kept score, nothing more.

That fall and winter the markets had absorbed me but as spring rolled around, they calmed down and I gradually got over Susan. I realized one morning that I needed to get out and get some exercise. It would do me good I thought. When I was a growing up in Chicago, I had liked to bicycle and I now lived a couple of blocks from a good bike trail. In fact, the area where I lived, the so called "North Shore" suburbs just north of Chicago, seemed a great place to bike. There are quiet, safe streets, a couple of bike trails and limited traffic. It seemed ideal so I went to my local bike shop.

No thanks, the mountain bikes I tried were not comfortable at all, the road bikes were worse. I searched the internet and learned about recumbents, decided on one I liked and drove an hour to test ride it and a few others. "Now this is it," I smiled as I sat down on an eight foot long bike with a padded seat. It was called a Tour Easy and it had a twenty inch front wheel, a twenty seven inch rear wheel and it looked almost like a Harley Davidson motorcycle without an engine.

The bike shop owner and I somehow managed to squeeze it into my SUV but it was a tight fit. The next day I went and bought a used minivan and took out the seats. So, yes, I bought a twenty thousand dollar minivan to haul my two thousand dollar bike around. Go figure.

I loved the bike. In fact, I even started going out during the week, leaving my stocks to their own devices. It was such a joy to ride. I liked people's comments about it too. It became a conversation piece almost every where I went. I had so much fun, I even joined a local bike club that spring and started going on rides with them.

Most weekends, the club had (or actually has, they are still around) several scheduled rides, some planned and others that were so called "show and go" rides. Those who showed up decided where they would go. These were often shorter, slower, more informal rides than the planned ones and as I was still far from being in good shape, more to my speed and liking.

I saw Carol there for the first time one Sunday morning. She seemed a regular, knew a couple of others and rode with them, not saying more than a polite "hello" to me. I wasn't sure if I cared or not either. I hadn't got completely over Susan and to be honest, wasn't sure if I found Carol attractive or not. I certainly don't mean to be cruel (those who live in glass houses etc) but it just seemed as if she was made up from pieces that didn't seem to fit together too well, leftovers perhaps. She was tall, perhaps taller than I was, and very angular. The nose and eyes didn't seem quite right, and her hair, tucked underneath the helmet, was of an uncertain and indeterminate color. It was a most awkward look and not at first a pleasant one either.

She rode her mountain bike that morning with almost the zeal of someone out to prove something. Like many of the others as I referred to them "gear heads", she seemed so serious in her riding, never smiling, barely looking up at the trails and streets around her. I was delighted to be leaning back on my recumbent. I smiled. I laughed. I looked around as I rode not being bent over. I had fun and it seemed that most others did not.

Her bike and clothes both seemed used but serviceable. I didn't, and still don't know one mountain bike from another. They seem so cookie cutter to me now, so ordinary, much like her that morning. She wore little if any spandex and her cycling shoes, while the clipless style, had probably also seen better days.

As we rode through streets, she barely talked, chatting only once or twice to the lone other woman in the small group of seven that morning. My advice to men is don't join a bike club thinking you're going to meet up with some cute young woman. You'll be far out numbered and if you are like much like me and hardly a "ten" you'll just be wasting your time. Me, I didn't bother even trying to talk to her. I was there to enjoy the ride and I did.

I saw her again the following Sunday. Another show and go ride as I'd decided against the main ride. Eight of us showed up including her. We decided to ride north to the Botanical Gardens, make a quick stop and then south along another trail and return back to our starting point in Evanston.

At our stop in the Gardens, she, along with several others who were there, stopped to look at my strange contraption. "Mind if I sit on it?" she asked out of the blue.

Of course I didn't mind. I offered to let her try riding it but she was not that ambitious that morning. I suspected that she could have ridden it, the seat being not too far back for her to peddle but she declined and smiled and said it was comfortable but strange. Exactly.

Our group made its way back and began breaking up once we hit Evanston. She split off before I did and I left and took a short cut home, and thought nothing of her.

Two weeks later and another small group rode north to Lambs Farm and back. It was my longest ride so far and on the way back, there was a McDonalds right on the way. We stopped as we were all hungry.

We locked our bikes and all went in except her. "Aren't you coming in?" I asked politely.

"I'm broke," she said quietly.

"I'm not. Had a good week myself. Let me get you something."

"It's not necessary."

"I know," I smiled. "That's why I'm making the offer. Besides, I was always brought up to be a gentleman and when a gentleman sees a lady who is too broke to eat at McDonalds, then he always offers to treat," I half laughed. "Besides, it's not like we're talking zillions of dollars here. Not only that, I like this group here today, so why not come in, let me get you something and join us? It really is OK, you know."

So, she went inside with the rest of us and I got her some fries and a Coke which seemed pretty good to myself and she sat and ate them pretty much alone as did I and I wondered why.

I didn't see her again for three more weeks. I'm not sure why really and wasn't sure it mattered either. Big deal, so I had bought her fries and a coke and talked for half a minute. It was hardly a start.

That morning in August it would all change, oh would it ever. The cloud filled sky was threatening rain yet the Weather Channel insisted it was not going to happen. I looked out the door and decided on the show and go ride, and stashed my rain jacket into the bag that was over my rear wheel and took off to the starting point.

I was the only one there at nine in the morning and I wondered if I had made a mistake. Were my clocks not working properly? Was I still asleep and only dreaming? No, I suspected the threat of rain was keeping everyone away.

Suddenly, she showed up.

"No one else?" she asked.

I shrugged and mentioned the forecast.

"Could go home," I suggested.

"No, I need to ride. Let's try for the Gardens."

I merely nodded and tried to keep up with her pace. It was almost a struggle for me but I managed it quite nicely thank you. We hardly spoke at all, even stopping at the Gardens for a quick turn around and as we say politely "pit stop."

The sky opened up in Glencoe along the side streets. I was a mile or less from my home and said so. "You can dry off and either wait it out or I'll drive you home," I offered.

She was very undecided until a clap of thunder shook us both. Already soaked to the skin, my rain jacket now attempting to cover her too late, I dashed along the familiar streets, up to the gate and found the garage door opener in my bag and prayed it would work. It did and I skidded inside beside the Mini Cooper and van. She had followed.

"Come on in," I offered leading the way. "Mind the two cats." She followed me up the stairs and I showed her the guest room. Washer and dryer were located up there as well. I found a seldom used robe she could wear and offered a pair of clean sweat pants and sweat shirt if she wanted.

"I'll be down stairs in the kitchen once I change," I announced.

"This place is huge," she stated. I was in the kitchen looking out at the monsoon rains and hadn't seen or heard her. "You live alone?"

"Bought it with the idea that someone else would be with me. We broke up over a year ago. Now it's just the cats and I."

She merely sat down. She was in the robe then. I assumed the sweat suit too small perhaps or whatever. I decided not to assume. "Can I offer you something? Beer? Pepsi? Donut? Sandwich?"

"Pepsi will be fine."

It suited me too. Ice and a couple of glasses and an awkward gap in the conversation, neither of us knowing quite what to do next.

My black cat Lucky saved us. She jumped up on the table beside her and checked Carol out. "She and the other one just moved in after I bought the house. I thought they might have lived here before but I asked the neighbors and they told me the last owners had dogs so I don't know."

"And you've let them stay?" she asked.

"Of course. Even I know that people don't adopt cats, they adopt you. Odd that they never liked Susan. Perhaps that should have told me something."

Emma, the other cat, a calico, also found Carol and showed her as much attention as she ever showed me. Carol just smiled perhaps for the first time. I too smiled.

We sat and talked about meaningless things as the rain continued. Her clothes in the dryer upstairs until the buzzer sounded. I hated the sound as she went up and changed. "Still a bit damp," she smiled. "Another ten minutes I think should do it."

I had a flat screen TV in the kitchen. It was where I often ate anyway and turned on the Weather Channel. Radar had more rain heading our way. "They lied to me this morning," I said. "I took the risk anyway though."

"I thought it would rain but I didn't want to stay in my apartment. My roommate and her boyfriend are there. Mind if I stay a little while longer?" 

"Why in the world would I?" I said quite honestly. I was slowly beginning to like her.

She shrugged and said no more. "Do you take lots of risks?"

"Don't we all?" I asked. "I'm a day trader and very good at it if I do say so myself but I never risk it all, never more than I can afford to lose. No matter what happens, this house is mine."

"But it wasn't supposed to be, was it?"

"No, it wasn't."

"May I ask what happened?"

"It was not be," I replied not offering to give any more details, not sure I could to such a stranger, hadn't really told anyone, even myself exactly why.

The buzzer sounded and she stood up and we both bounded up the stairs and I asked politely "and you don't have a boyfriend yourself?"

Now it was her turn to be silent. "No, not now." She grabbed her dry clothes and dashed into the guest room.

We left serious discussion behind and talked of bicycles and rides and music and art and movies and all manner of somewhat superficial things (except perhaps to my mind the bicycles) and the rain slowly let up and then almost stopped.

"I think I can make it home now," she announced.

"I'm sure I can fit your bike in my minivan," I insisted.

"You don't have to."

"I made an offer. The offer still stands."

"Ok then."

As predicted, her bike fit right inside the van. How could it not? She navigated me to her apartment in the Rogers Park neighborhood of Chicago, though I already knew the area quite well, about a five mile bike ride from the club's starting point.

"Let me carry your bike up then," I offered.

"Are you always such a gentleman?"

"I know of no other way to be," I replied most sincerely.

She looked at me in disbelief as if I was a Martian and suddenly I half thought I knew something more about her. "I meant what I said."

I took the bike up the narrow stairs of the run down apartment building. "I enjoyed this, really and I'd like to see you again," I half stammered as we got to the door.

"My roommate and her boy friend are still here," she said at the door.

I had taken a small risk and lost as she went inside. After she slipped the bike inside, while the door still open, she smiled at me at least and said her thanks and closed the door.

Part Two

I left her apartment and drove back home as the rain let up and wondered if I hadn't made another stupid mistake, wondered if I should have just kept my mouth shut instead of saying that I'd like to see her. What in the world was I thinking? Why was I setting myself up to be crushed again, crushed as Susan had done to me, crushed by who I was and what I liked and wanted.

I could not take the words back. The damage was done. There was little I could do about it. At the same time, we had not exchanged phone numbers. Mine was unlisted. I was certain hers was, assuming she even had one.

Back home, I sat down and half wondered what she would look like, dressed up in the clothes I had bought for Susan, hoping against all hope she would wear them. Carol would indeed look quite good I decided.

I snapped back to reality. I would not risk being hurt again like that. I found the packages, found those clothes she had found so disgusting that she had stormed out of here almost in a rage, found them and bundled them up and tossed them into the garbage. I should have done it long ago but I could not. No one would ever wear them. No one.

Certainly not Carol I realized over a microwave dinner. She wasn't Susan's size, not even close. Did I like her, I wondered? I really wasn't sure. She was intelligent when she chose to be and witty or so it seemed and not as superficial as most young women appeared or was it that I was just reading what I wanted into her? I did not know. I just did not know.

The following weekend, the club had a fifty-mile ride. I decided to go and skip the show and go, partly as a challenge and partly as a passive-aggressive way of avoiding dealing with Carol, hoping she would not show up. She didn't and I was both happy and depressed that she didn't.

A week later was the North Shore Century -- a huge daylong ride - which the club organized and ran so I did not ride. Instead, I helped man a check in booth at the start and end of the ride.

A show and go was scheduled for the following weekend, one of the very last as it was now the end of September. I was deliberately late, arriving a good ten minutes after I knew the group would be gone.

A solitary bike was there. Hers. I could have turned around I suppose and so could she but there we both were.

"You're late," she smiled, "or were you lying about wanting to see me again."

"I honestly wasn't sure."

"Fair enough. Neither was I. I'm not who you think."

"Nor am I. That's why people date. To find out about each other."

"So I've been told. Is this a date then?" she asked.

"I guess it is," I agreed.

"Then where are you taking me?"

"Lunch at the Gardens? My treat of course. We can take the long way or the short way."

"It's a nice day. Let's take the long way. My roommate and her boyfriend are there."

We zipped along the quiet Sunday side streets that run through the middle class neighborhoods, chilled by the crisp fall air. I kept pace with her easily. Either I had gotten stronger and faster -- quite likely actually -- or she was going slower on my account or perhaps a bit of both. The talk was casual and easy and when it permitted, we rode side by side. We'd never done that before and she would look down on me from her mountain bike and smile at times.

I chose not to pry into her life but mentioned my own. I too had lived in Rogers Park. Long ago I had grown up there. Three children and a single mother lived in the two-bedroom apartment. Father dead, we made the best of it I suppose.

"I was the one everyone laughed at in school," I said aloud for perhaps only the second time in my life.

"You've done quite well though it seems."

"In some ways, in others no. I found I have a talent. I can work long hours and sense stock trends very early on. By no means perfect, but I do better than most," I explained as we coasted to a stop by the bike rack in the Botanical Gardens. We locked our bikes together and made our way inside.

Too early for lunch, we wandered into the manicured gardens, Carol telling me that like myself, she had ridden there many times but never stopped to walk. This time we walked. Somewhere along the path, she touched my hand and held it. It felt just so natural, so right to do I thought nothing of it.

She paused beside some flowers whose name I've long since forgotten and caught me looking at her with a very pleasant smile on my face, as if I had seen something wonderful. Perhaps I had.

"You see something?" she asked.

"A very beautiful woman."

She looked around and seeing no one. "I don't see anyone," she said. She was not joking either.




Risk



"You," I admitted.

"No, not me, never."

"Yes, you, most definitely you." Then I laughed and took off my glasses and put them back on. "Yes, definitely you. No one else around. Had my eyes checked last month." I lied.

"Liar."

"Well, then, last year anyway," I laughed. I had been caught.

"You don't know me."

"That's because you haven't told me."

"I'm afraid to I think. You are the exact opposite of every other man I've ever met, and it scares me."

"You think I'm not afraid too? Susan really hurt me when she left. I never thought I'd get over it, never thought I'd risk being hurt again and yet, here I am, taking another risk."

"You're brave. I've been wounded too many times." I almost thought she would cry but she didn't. Half thought I would too for that matter. "A snack?" she suggested. "I'm getting hungry."

Inside the cafeteria, I treated to a couple of sandwiches and we sat down at a table.

"Third of four girls," she explained sitting down at a table. "All more beautiful and all spoiled rotten."

"Impossible that any could be more beautiful than you."

"They are, trust me. I was the ugly duckling and I rebelled big time. You'd hate me if I told you everything I've done. Sometimes I hate myself."

"You shouldn't." There was an awkward silence. Somehow I managed to reach out and hold her hand on the table.

We managed to finish eating and made our way outside, heading back to the bikes.

"When I caught you looking at me earlier, what were you seeing?"

"A beautiful young woman," I smiled.

"That's not what I meant."

"You'll laugh, or think I'm strange or sick."

"Is that what Susan said?"

"Far worse, far, far worse. She left."

"Please tell me. I won't laugh, I promise."

"I have a rubber fetish," said quietly. There, I had admitted it and risked all. Better now I supposed than invest more and lose it all later. Should have told Susan sooner. "I imagined you in a rubber suit, head to toe. Susan freaked. Couldn't handle it at all."

She said nothing for half a moment. "And you'd think I'd look sexy like that?"

"Yes, you would, very much so I think."

"Tied up in bondage or am I doing the tying up?"

"No, neither one, not my thing, just dressed up in rubber." I just could not believe I was having this conversation with her. It was scary and exciting and my cock was getting uncomfortable but I reminded myself where I was and managed to avoid an embarrassment though there was no one else close by.

"And you, what about you, dressed up as well?"

"Of course," I admitted.

"I've never done that," she admitted after a moment's pause. "To be honest there aren't too many things I haven't done. Don't worry. I'm not too shocked, well maybe a little bit anyway. Just didn't see it in you though. Thought you were a bit straight laced, too much the gentleman."

"I am at times I guess but I see nothing wrong with being a gentleman."

"No, there isn't. It's just that I'm not used to it."

"Well you'll have to get used to it if we continue because that's one thing about myself I refuse to change."

We unlocked our bikes and she was quiet as we left the Gardens and headed east to yet another bike trail. Once on it she slowed down and came up beside me.

"Thank you for telling me about the rubber. I'm glad you did, really. I'm going to make you a promise, and I rarely make them anymore but I will for you. When we're ready, when we are both ready, we will both get dressed up and spend a wonderful time together."

I thought I was going to cry. It was all I could do not to and she saw me and paused. I just could not believe what I was hearing yet I could tell she meant it, or at least I hoped she did.

"It will not happen today though or even next weekend. I need you to be patient with me. I've had some problems and I just need you to help me get over them."

"What can I do?"

"Like I said, be patient and keep telling me you think I'm beautiful."

"That's easy," I laughed. "You are so I don't have to lie."

She smiled again as we stopped at a cross street. "I like you Ralph, I really do. Didn't think I would but I do. Didn't think you were my type but then I haven't chosen well in the past so what do I know anyway?"

We moved on.

"So, what's next?" I asked. "Weather sounds too cold next weekend."

"How about a regular date?"

"Dinner and a movie?"

"Works for me," she replied.

"Can I call you?"

"No phone," she replied again as we stopped at a cross street.

I reached into my fanny pack and pulled out my cell phone. "Now you do. I hardly ever use it. I'll pay for it, don't worry."

"I can't. I like to pay my own way, besides, you need to know I don't like you for your money. I get the feeling that you probably make more in a month than I make in a year or two." More like three or four I guessed but did not say.

"Please, I don't mind, really."

"Then you will have to call me, won't you?" she smiled and took the phone.

"I guess I will. When's a good time?"

"Mondays or Fridays after six. Tuesday and Thursday I've got night school," and then she paused and added, "and Wednesday I've got AA."

It wasn't quite what I expected and I guess it showed. It could have been worse. "You need to know that," she added.

That was why she hadn't taken the beer the other day at my house, though I knew there could have been anyone of a number of reasons. I wasn't partial to beer myself but I had a few friends, seldom seen, who did. It was more for them.

"Sorry," she added then took off again down the street.

"Nothing to be sorry for."

"Clean and sober now for five years, six months and say about ten days. No relapses either."

"Very good," then caught up with her. "I rarely drink myself so that's really OK with me. Would it help if I got rid of the beer in the fridge before you come over next, assuming you are coming over."

"Made the promise, didn't I?" she laughed. "Honestly, it would help. Sometimes I am awfully tempted. It really isn't easy some days."

"Anything I can do to help?"

"You already have," she smiled. "Just continue to be a gentleman and be patient with me."

My house was on the way and I mentioned the battery charger for the cell phone was there. "Stop in for a moment?" I asked.

"OK, but it's getting chilly and I'd like to head back home."

"I can drive."

"No, I can ride but you can ride with me if you want."

I did so and after a quick stop, she had the battery charger and my home number and we were on our way again.

I rode all the way back to Rogers Park with her, along the Evanston Lake front, down into Chicago and onto the gritty side streets that inhabit the area. There was a little too much traffic for my liking and I was glad I had a flag stuck onto my relatively low bike. It helped to make me just slightly more visible.

On the way there, she opened up to me a little more and told me she worked as a secretary at a big company in the Loop, taking the EL everyday down and back. She had no car but really didn't need one there anyway. She could always borrow or rent when she needed one. If it wasn't a great life, it was better than before. Two nights a week there was school. "I'm getting a degree in accounting," she explained. "Don't want to be a receptionist all my life."

I understood that.

"Please call me say Monday evening and then again Friday."

"I will," I promised. Indeed, I would. I had shared a secret with her and been rewarded by learning one of her own. It was a risk I had taken and it had paid off. She had not laughed, not stormed out of my life. It was actually pretty good for once. I had the nagging suspicion though that she was not done with her secrets, not done at all. 

Part Three

We made our plans during the week for Saturday night, dinner and a movie. She picked the restaurant, nothing too spicy, and I picked the movie, nothing too macho.

The weekend after that it was a Saturday afternoon at the Art Institute. We took the EL and spent a lazy afternoon wandering around downtown Chicago, just being together.

Between the two dates and several phone calls, she began to open up to me and quite honestly, I began falling in love with her.

In some ways, we were quite opposite of each other. I pretty much lived in the here and now and in the past while she was always looking forward. I had few goals in life but that was all she talked about, never the past.

On that first date, she told me she wanted to bicycle across the country. There are groups that run tours and she wanted to go with them, camp out and ride sixty miles a day for ninety days. At first, I thought the idea completely insane. I had just started riding myself and the idea of doing that many miles was beyond belief. By the end of the evening I was convinced that I wanted to go with her.

She had other plans too, of where she wanted to travel, things she wanted to see and do and, unlike so many other people who have dreams, she had plans on how to do achieve them. She really had one foot in the clouds and one firmly on the ground. She would work hard, save her money, make sacrifices, and enjoy. She never talked though, about her past and rarely about her present.

Me, I was just the opposite. I had few plans beyond the next stock market rally or getting to know her. How could I? I already had more than enough money to buy all the toys a man could want. Making money was more a game or a way of keeping score now, a way to pass the time, rather than an outright goal. If I wasn't a millionaire by thirty, I was certainly close enough that it was in sight. I was a drift.

I enjoyed those first two dates and the phone calls but I had plans the following Saturday. My brother, sister and I now had a new family tradition, a family get together followed by a visit to the cemetery where our mother is. She would be welcome of course. My older brother Dan, who had played football, gotten a full scholarship to Northwestern and played uneventfully in the pros for a few years before becoming a dentist, would be coming over after the homecoming game in Evanston, a stone's throw from my house. He and his wife and two children would stop by after the game. I didn't care for football myself so I rarely went, but he did. My sister, Julia, and her husband and kids would also show up and then we would all go and spend a few minutes at the grave site, then come back to my place for some burgers. It had seemed like a good idea to all of us three years earlier and it stuck. Holidays would be for the other families.

My brother had helped me through college, though I went to the University of Illinois at Chicago Circle Campus and not Northwestern, but it had been affordable and I had come out of my shell and done quite well, landing a job as a stock broker where after four years I had made enough to quit helping people make money and instead, make money on my own. I owed my brother and had helped him out a bit when the San Diego Chargers finally let him go. By then, though he had a wife and two children and had gotten his degree and really didn't need my help anymore than I needed his.

"Actually, if you don't mind, I'd really like to use the Internet at your house," she explained as we made our plans. "My roommate and I only have dial up and it's tough just finding time at the library. The big problem is, I've got a major project due and I've fallen a little bit behind."

"Then I'll pick you up and let you work and you can join us for dinner."

I picked up Carol in the morning and set her up with one of my many computers and a printer, relaxed and allowed her to work. It wasn't easy as I did enjoy being with her.

Dan and Maggie showed after the game. It was Maggie who had tried the most to help me after Susan left. "Why won't you tell me what really happened?" she had asked more than once.

"It didn't work out," was all I would say and she knew there was more to it than that. As close as we were, I just couldn't begin to explain my rubber fetish to her.

Dan looked in the fridge, expecting to find a beer and seemed disappointed in not finding one. "Carol doesn't drink," I merely explained. There was no need to know she was in AA.

Carol soon came down and joined us. "Finished my project," she beamed. "Thanks."

I thought she looked delightful, even if she was just wearing jeans and blouse, no make up (not that I could ever really tell about these things.) She seemed quite happy that afternoon.

My sister Julia came by a little while later. I explained to Carol about what had become a new family tradition. "We're going to see our mother," I offered. "You don't have to come along if you don't want" but she did. 

We piled into two cars and took off and twenty minutes later, we were there, at a cemetery. "Three years ago, from breast cancer," I explained. It was a quiet few moments and honestly, a few tears were shed. She had worked two jobs to help us survive and this had been her reward. It had not been fair at all. Still, she had lived long enough to see my brother play professional football, my sister to become a nurse and be happily married and me to make a lot of money. She hadn't met Susan and would never meet Carol. It just wasn't fair at all.

Somehow I suspected that Dan and Maggie had conspired together to get Carol to ride with them while I rode with Julia. Perhaps Maggie and Carol were conspiring against me, I mused then hoped they would all get along.

Back at my place we relaxed and chatted a bit and then Julia's husband showed up with her two teen-aged sons. They had both had football games that afternoon and Julia's husband Mark had been drafted into driving them in from Naperville for our annual get together.

It was some time after that that Maggie found me and asked, "where is that wonderful lady friend of yours?" 

"I hadn't noticed she was missing."

"I'm afraid I may have said something wrong but I'm honestly not sure what it could be. I was saying how wonderful my kids were and I turned around the next thing I knew she was gone. I hope there's nothing wrong. I mean, she really is just such a wonderful woman, so much nicer than Susan."

I was delighted she liked Carol but concerned now. "Watch the burgers for me, will you?" I went inside and found her in the den. It looked as if she had been crying, or trying very hard not to.

"Is something wrong?" I know, it was a stupid thing to say. Obviously there was.

"This seems so normal, so middle class," she half began.

"Yes, it is."

"You and your brother and sister all get along. You actually care about each other."

"We're family. Our mother gave us that. We've always been that way, looking out for each other, helping, caring, even when we've disagreed. Is it really that strange?"

"Yes," she stood up and tried to hide a tear. "I never had that, never was a part of that."

"You can be a part of it now."

"I can't."

"Yes, you can. All you have to do is just go out and enjoy. They like you, they all like you."

"They don't know who I am or what I've done. I don't even like myself some days."

"It doesn't matter." I paused and risked it all. "I love you," I said for the first time. "I really mean it. I love you."

"You won't."

"I will."

"I have a son, Ryan's age." It came out unexpected but not entirely. "My sister has sole custody. He doesn't even know who I am. I don't even have visitation rights. Think about that for a moment will you," she blurted.

"I still love you," I said.

"You just want me in rubber."

"Not true for a minute, on my honor, as a gentleman, it's not true." I had no idea what to say. I hadn't been all that good with Susan either to tell the truth.

"Come back outside," I almost pleaded.

"I will and afterwards I will tell you the truth and then leave you."

I was determined not to let that happen.

My mind raced as I thought how she could lose custody of her son, then concluded it probably wasn't all that hard. I knew she had problems with alcohol and perhaps drugs. It didn't take much to figure it out really as I made my way back outside.

"How is she?" asked Maggie.

"Be out in a minute. Trust me on this one."

She was out on the deck a few steps behind me and acted as if nothing had happened. I let her sit down with Maggie a short time later and left them alone while they talked. Maggie was that type of person, the family confidant. Every family should have one and Maggie was ours. She had certainly helped when Susan left and even before. It might seem strange but even though she was an attractive woman, I had always seen her more as a friend than anything else, and not just because she was my brother's wife. Just something about her that made me feel comfortable around her and able to tell her things I couldn't tell anyone else, though I'd not told her about the rubber. I never could do that.

The kids played in the yard. I burned some burgers and we all ate too much and laughed a bit in the chilly fall air until it was time for everyone to head back home, everyone except Carol.

She helped clean up and then we were both quiet. I followed her in the living room and sat down on the couch beside her.

"Time for the truth," she announced. "How many women have you had sex with?" she began.

"Just two, Susan and another who almost doesn't count. Neither of us knew what we were doing really."

"I've lost track," she began. "I wanted to be popular, I wanted to be liked. I wanted to have fun like everyone else and most of all, I think I wanted to be loved. I confused sex and drugs and alcohol with all of that. A lot of young women do. We look at ourselves in the mirror and compare what we think we see with what's in magazines and TV and some of us end up doing very stupid things and when our parents are blind, it gets out of control. I got out of control, really out of control."

She paused and I thought better of saying anything. "I partied almost constantly, drank and did almost everything and slept with almost anyone. Flunked out of high school." She shook her head. "Got pregnant at eighteen. I have no idea who the father is, none at all. It could be anyone of a dozen I may have slept with. My parents were furious. I thought about an abortion but they made my life such a hell that I couldn't. After I gave birth, I went out and partied again for an entire week. I came back home to find out that they had changed the locks on the doors. I was no longer welcome there. I couldn't see my own son and to be honest, they were right. I was an unfit mother. I signed some papers and turned him over to my sister." She cried a moment.

"It was two more years before I crashed and came to my senses. I actually got pregnant again and this time, I did have an abortion. I think somewhere in there I was actually sober for a couple of weeks and it just seemed so strange but I went back to drinking.

"I OD'd one day and ended up in the hospital. I thought about killing myself right then and there but somehow, I decided against it. I guess I just bottomed out. I joined AA, got sobered up, got my G.E.D. and actually found a job. Met my roommate in AA, you know. We help each other and it was OK at first but now she has a boyfriend. He's a good guy but it's tough having him around and listening to them have sex.

"I was such a whore, such a slut," she sobbed. She stood up to leave.

"Please stay. Please."

"How can you want me? Want me so you can fuck some rubber toy?" she snapped. "Is that it? Get what Susan wouldn't give you because you now know I'm a slut or because no one else will have you and your short cock."

"If you think for one minute that this is what it's all about, you are badly mistaken and I have done a horrible job of explaining myself to you. You are an amazing young woman." She started to speak and I waved her off. "Hear me out, please. You had some problems and solved them. You've beaten drugs and booze and sex and survived and even flourished. You've become an intelligent, witty, charming woman and you still have dreams! Think of that and listen to what you've told me in the past. You have dreams. Even I don't have those."




Risk



"That's all I have left."

"You can make them come true."

"I can't."

"You mean you really don't expect to ever bicycle across the country? What was that all about anyway? Was it just a lie? This is going to sound so cliché but all doors are open for you. Pick one. There's a prize behind everyone, but please don't take the one that leads away from me. Please don't. I meant what I said. I really do love you."

"Damn you. You just don't get it. You're insufferably stubborn."

"See, something else we have in common," I almost laughed.

She cried a little bit and she allowed me to help dry her tears. "You mean to tell me that with all that I have done, you're willing to put that all behind and you are still in love with me?"

"Damned right I am." For the first time I kissed her.

"Will you fuck me?" she asked.

"No, I won't." Part of me wanted to but I knew better. "Nor will have sex with you nor will I make love to you either."

"That's not what this wants," she said finding my hard cock in my pants.

"That's not me. It is only a part of me and what I really want to do is make love WITH you and the gentleman in me doesn't think you're ready for it just yet and I think you know it too."

"Damn it, you're right you know." A smile came to her face. "Who would think it? I've had sex more in one month than you've had in your entire life time and yet you seem to know more about it than I do."

"Not about the quantity. It's about the quality."

"I confused the two."

"I never have. Besides, Susan may have freaked about the rubber but she was a good teacher. She taught me how to do some things you might enjoy."

The two cats took that moment to jump up on the couch and into our laps, or rather her lap. Both of them ignored me and we both laughed about it as we sat there and just hugged.

She looked at me and said, "if I said to you no rubber, ever, would you still love me? Could you love me?"

"Well, I know some people have such a strong fetish that they can't function at all, and I think I managed to do pretty good with Susan so I know that's not the issue. I do think you are very attractive, so yes, I could love you and I hope make you very happy."

"But you'd like me in rubber, wouldn't you?"

"Of course. Don't know why really, but it is a part of me, a part of who I am. Some men look at a cute woman and imagine them naked, or in a bikini or wearing some silly, stupid frilly bit of nothing. I imagine them in rubber or leather."

"So, you think I'm attractive but seeing me dressed up like that would make me even more attractive?"

"Something like that, yes. Don't know what it is about rubber and leather really. Haven't spent all that much time trying to figure it out either although I suppose I should have after Susan freaked out." I shrugged. "Who knows? Maybe that was just her excuse to leave anyway."

"You would think that with all I've seen and done, that I would be OK with it, but I'm just not sure about it. I'm just not sure."

"Maybe it's that you're just not sure about you and I." I paused again. "I really love you and don't want you to do anything you don't feel comfortable with. Don't ever do anything with me just to please me or be afraid that I won't love you because you don't do something. I know we all make compromises all the time and it's part of life, part of a relationship, but we all have boundaries that can't be crossed without selling our hearts and I never want you to sell yours just for me, never."

"Will you take me home?"

"Of course I will, if that's what you really want."

"Yes, I think so," she pleaded. "I need time to think."

"Then I will."

"No arguments?"

"I love you," I replied. "I only want you to be happy and if that will make you happy, then I will take you home."

She started crying again and I didn't have a clue about why. "I just can't believe you still want me."

"I do," I replied honestly.

She stood up as if to leave. "I'm sorry but please take me home."

"Of course," and I did just that. It was a brief silent drive back down Sheridan road through Kennilworth and Evanston and down into Rogers Park in Chicago. I don't think she said but five words the entire time and I was at a complete loss myself.

"I love you" was all I could say, as she got out of the car as I stopped in front of her run down apartment building.

I watched her walk away for a moment, convinced I would never see her again.

Part Four

I admit it, I cried when I got home. I'm afraid I just did not understand her at all. She just made no sense to me or perhaps she did. I just did not know.

Maggie, knowing I did not care for football and being a bit curious about Carol, called me during the Bears game the following day to see what had happened with Carol.

"She's gone," said softly, "just like Susan."

"Oh no, oh no."

"Don't know what to do at all," I almost cried.

"Tell me exactly what happened, and I mean it this time. I want to know everything. Maybe I can help."

This time I did tell her everything, including about my rubber fetish and what happened with Susan when she found out.

"Well, the first thing you need to do is get on the phone and call her up and tell her that you love her."

"She won't answer."

"Leave a message, leave one a day until she gets it. Better yet, I'll call her. Maybe that will help."

"Why?" I asked.

"You just don't get it do you, you never did?"

Not knowing what she was talking about, I said nothing.

"Want to know one reason why I married your brother and not one of the others I dated? It's because when I met you and your sister and your mother, I saw how you treated each other and really, really cared for each other and respected each other, even when you disagreed. That's how you treat me too. I am one of the luckiest women in the world. Not only do I have a wonderful husband and three great kids, but I also have a great sister and a great brother in law and a big huge wonderful family that I'm part of. There's not one of you that I don't care about, including you. She's an idiot if she can't see that. So, you've got a bit of a quirk. That's nothing that you can't work out between the two of you. Personally, that isn't for me but to each his own. There are far worse things than that. Bet you'd never hit her or abuse her, would you or cheat on her."

"Never," I admitted.

"So, she could do far worse than you and it seems she has in the past."

"Sure sounds that way," I agreed.

"Then tell her you love her and I'll also leave a message for her and maybe between the two of us, we can see what we can do."

We talked a while longer, then after I hung up, I left a simple message for Carol. "I love you. Please call any time. There is nothing we can't work out."

Up in my bedroom that night, I wondered if it was really true. Did I really love her or had I fallen for what now seemed to be a false promise?

Let's face it, I had a semi-serious rubber fetish. I've read stories about people who had closets full of the stuff and even though I could afford all that and more, I realized I really didn't have that much, just two catsuits, some gloves, briefs and a few other odds and ends. I did wear them once and a while but it was hardly a daily or even weekly thing. Also, Susan and I had had sex (made love? fucked?) more than a few times without it and both seemed to enjoy it. It clearly wasn't as if I couldn't function without it. Yet, there were times when I did put on the catsuit when I was alone and enjoy being by myself. I was tempted to that Sunday night but decided against it, not really knowing why either.

I did surf the Internet and did visit some rubber and fetish sites but the Internet did not hold my interest that evening. In fact, I spent more time on the few recumbent bicycle sites than the rubber ones. I even ended up reading a blog by a man who was bicycling across the country on one.

Instead, I wondered about myself. What did I want in all of this? Was I willing to give up my fetish fantasy for Carol? Did I even have a choice in matter? If she didn't come back, then the issue would be moot anyway and once again, I would not have to deal with it.

Then too, there was the issue of Carol's past. Could I accept the fact that she had slept with a lot of men? Could I live and love and forgive someone with that kind of a past? Could I deal with someone who was in AA?

I thought about all that and a lot more that evening and into the early morning hours as I tossed and turned in bed. I had no answers that morning either. I was far too restless to trade, too distracted, and decided that rather than risk money in the markets, I kept my funds parked in safe havens. At around nine thirty, I poked my head outside the door and saw that it was a clear but cool and sunny morning, a nice day for a bike ride. I did just that.

I rode for several hours that Monday morning along my local bike trail, taking it north all the way up to North Chicago. In fact, I had not been that far north on the trail since I started riding. My odd bike and I were mostly alone, the kids gone back to school and only a few women and an occasional man were out. Perhaps most of the casual riders had put their bikes away for the fall or were reluctant to head out in the chilly air, but I really enjoyed it. My head and my heart seemed much clearer when I came back. I would do what I could to keep her, if only she would return.

I followed up each day that week with a message, repeating what I had said the first time, only now I felt as if I really did mean it. She did not call back until Friday. Dinner was over, the cats were fed, and I was watching the History Channel about something when the phone rang. I almost jumped out of my skin.

"Sorry I didn't call sooner," she said.

"That's quite OK," I smiled, happy just to hear her voice.

"I finally talked to Maggie late last night and explained what happened. I'm really sorry I broke down on you like that, really very sorry. This has been a huge weight I've been carrying with me, just huge. You have no idea. I've had such a poor self-image of myself and I was so shocked that anyone could forgive what I had done, anyone at all. I thoroughly expected you to be furious with me and want to have nothing to do with me all. I just could not believe it, could not deal with it at all. Why would anyone want to have anything to do with me except for sex?"

There was a pause. "It's because I love you," I replied.

I heard her cry. "I'm sorry. You know, I only told one other guy about my past. Met him at work a couple of years ago. I told him and you know what he did? He called me a slut and a whore and almost tried to rape me. It was so disgusting and to think I had loved him. I just could not believe it. That's why you shocked me so much. I had expected you to be the same as all the other men I've met. Guess I haven't met as many men as I thought I had because I've never met anyone quite like you."

Now it was my turn to almost cry.

"So, what do you want to do now?" I asked.

"Well, Maggie has invited us to their place for a cookout on Sunday, that is if you don't mind?"

I had been forewarned me about the invitation, although it was pretty well understood that I really didn't need one anyway. There was almost always a cookout on Sunday after an afternoon of watching football games on the bigscreen television in his game room. Family was always welcome and it half sounded like Carol might become family. I liked the idea myself.

"Of course I don't mind," I naturally replied. We talked a bit more and made our plans. One thing we did not talk about was my fetish and I wondered if we were both avoiding it or if in fact, there was nothing to talk about. I just wasn't sure.

It was almost cold that Sunday as I drove back into Chicago in the Mini Cooper to pick her up. I'm not sure if it was just wishful thinking on my part but she seemed unusually attractive that day, though she was very casually dressed in slacks and blouse. There was a black leather jacket and sensible shoes but nothing out of the ordinary, though I hardly knew what was ordinary for her anyway.

Maggie was delighted to see us and so was my brother. They could not have made us feel more comfortable and welcome if they had wanted to and the great thing is, I don't think either of them were actually trying or putting on an act either. It was just they way they were, the way all my family ever was and it seemed so very right that afternoon. Because of Carol, there was no beer in the fridge and neither made any move to explain it either. Everyone just knew why and accepted it. The talk was light and friendly between all of us and it was just a delightful afternoon and evening.

It was on the way back that the other subject came up. She dealt with it directly. "We haven't talked about your fetish yet have we?"

"No, we haven't," I replied, "and won't unless you really want to."

"Need to is more like it, I guess. You know, I've been around so much and done so much and yet there's an awful lot about men that I just don't get. I mean, you say you think I'm attractive yet you want me to actually wear something? I'm not sure it makes any sense to me. Does it mean you're lying when you say I'm attractive or what?"

"Not an easy answer, really, not easy at all. Men in general are much more visual when it comes to sex and erotica than women. That's why pornography works. Men see something or someone they think is sexy and they have a reaction, often very immediate," I responded trying to be polite and clinical about it. "Different men respond to different things. Some men have a smoking fetish. Some are into the whips and chains. Some men think that belly dancing is erotic, which I for one, cannot understand at all. Then you have the men who like big breasts or fat women or silk stockings. There are all types. Then there are the rubber fetishists like me. Don't know why really, never did, but there I am. I see a woman in a wetsuit or a leather catsuit and I think she's just the sexiest woman around. Turns my head every time. I can't tell you how many stupid movies and shows I've watched just for the sight of a woman wearing leather or rubber."

I paused. "I really and truly do think you are attractive. I'm not sure how to prove it either, but yes, you would be even more attractive dressed up in leather or rubber, but I don't want you to if you don't want to."

"But yet, if I said I would never wear it and we got married, that would still be in the back of your mind, wouldn't it?"

"I can't say and I can't promise. I just don't know. It's been a part of me for a while now and it is something I've enjoyed even though it's meant the end of one relationship and perhaps this one."

She was silent for a moment as I drove along in the chilly evening and I wondered what she was thinking.

"No matter what," I said after a couple of minutes of silence, "I love you and never want you to do anything you don't feel comfortable with."

"I know," she smiled and then kissed me at a stoplight. "This is all just so unexpected and shocking. My world has been turned upside down and not entirely for the worse I might add. I've had this image of myself as this ugly little alcoholic slut and I'm trying to deal with the fact that you just refuse to see me that way. It isn't easy, and then there's the rubber aspect to this whole situation." She just sighed. Then she laughed. "I did ask you to be patient with me, didn't I? Bet you didn't think you have to go through all of this?"

"Knowing what I know now, I'd still do it again."

"Even if I walk away?"

"Even if you walk away," I replied, "but I don't think you will, at least I sure as hell hope you don't."

"I don't think I will either, but it may not be easy."

"Good," I smiled, relieved. "I was worried there for a moment."

"So was I. Tell you what. Why don't we plan on spending next weekend together, the entire weekend? You can pick me up after work. No promises about anything else, but maybe we can just hang out and talk and really see if we can make this work."

I loved the idea myself and said so and another idea came to mind as I parked in front of her apartment and we kissed. It was a little more than just a friendly kiss too I might add, more like a promise of things to come. It seemed my risk really might pay off.

Part Five

During the week, I made my plans. There was a shop I visited and explained what I wanted. He was more than happy to help once he saw my credit card.

Carol and I talked too, several times in fact. She would cook dinner for us Friday at my place but she had me buy the groceries. I cleaned the house too, not that I was terribly messy but I did want to make a good impression on her.

Shortly after five, I left my house and made my way to Rogers Park and found a place to park not too far from her apartment, arriving at the appointed hour.

"She's not quite ready yet," explained her roommate whom I had not yet met. She was another pleasant enough young woman and I might have been attracted to her if it weren't for the cigarette she was smoking.

"Take good care of her, will you," she said to me as Carol emerged with a suitcase from her bedroom. "She's really been through a lot and deserves someone decent."

"I will," I promised.

I zipped through the streets again, or rather, tried to with all the traffic. It is a part of life in the city and one reason I was glad I didn't have to deal with the commute now that I worked from home.

"Let me change into something else," she said once we were inside.

"You look quite nice to me," I said. Indeed, she was wearing a conservative business suit. "But whatever you wish is fine with me."

"Oh, I have something better in mind," she said with a wink, then began hauling the suitcase up the stairs. "Down in a couple of minutes."

I took a deep breath and then found my surprise for her and set it on the dinning room table, on the plate I had set for her. I paused. I could change my mind, take it all back if I wanted. No, it just felt right. As a trader, I study things carefully and once I make a decision, I stick with it. I opened up the small box and set it there, afraid of what she might say. I would risk it all anyway.

I turned and went into the kitchen and puttered, waiting for her. What was taking her so long anyway? I paced and petted the cats. I had my back to the stairway, did not even hear her come down. "Oh my God," I heard her almost cry. "It's beautiful."

"It's what you think it is," I said turning around and stepping into the dinning room.

I stopped, frozen in place, unable to speak or move. She stood there before me, this woman I had just given an engagement ring to, and she was wearing the most erotic, black latex catsuit I had ever seen. "Oh my God," I echoed. "You are so beautiful." I just could not believe it. I think I forgot to breathe for a moment. I was so stunned, even my cock failed to react.

She laughed a little and the tension in the room let up. "Amazing, isn't it?"

"You certainly are," I agreed moving closer, looking at this wonderful woman of my dreams, who now stood before me.

"And so are you," she beamed.

I wanted to touch her and do all kinds of things and she certainly sensed that. 

"Dinner first," she said taking charge.

"What?"

"My rules," she explained. "Oh, and if I have to wear this suit then you have to wear one too."

"What? Ok," I agreed.

"Then change. I'll do the cooking."

I raced up the stairs and found one of my suits, almost tore it putting it on and managed to get down stairs as quickly as I could. This time, my cock was hard and it made a nice bulge in my suit.

"There you are," she smiled and kissed me. "That's all you get for now."




Risk



The cold wind whipped at me as I walked up the street, Kindle in hand, only vaguely aware of my surroundings.

I had just left the office and was heading back to my car, parked a few blocks away, and beginning to regret not bringing an umbrella as the rain started to fall. Regretfully I closed the Kindle's cover to protect it.

As I looked up my eyes were drawn to a girl across the street. She was wandering along, phone to her ear, seemingly oblivious to the wind and spitting rain. Her top half was protected by neck scarf and puffy jacket... but below the jacket was a short, light skirt being flipped about by the wind, and long legs covered only in black stockings and pumps.

As I walked up my side of the street, I kept an eye on the traffic as I needed to cross. When the break came I jogged across the street. I was now walking a few metres behind the girl and about the same speed.

My eyes were locked like lasers on her butt. As the wind gusted, it occasionally flipped the back of her skirt up, giving me tantalizing glimpses of her bottom. The stockings were obviously panty hose, but by the lack of panties it appeared she was either wearing a G-string underneath them -- or nothing at all. She showed no concern as her skirt danced about -- some girls will hold their wind-whipped skirts down with one hand, or at least try to minimize their exposure. This girl didn't seem to care. I mentally congratulated myself on my good luck and paced myself to her stride so I could continue to check out her fantastic legs and butt.

She started to slow down as she approached an intersection. Regretfully I came to a halt beside her at the pedestrian crossing as we waited for the traffic to stop. I glanced sideways at her face as we stood there, and discovered she was young -- possibly early 20's, with attractive features, large brown eyes and dark brown hair. She chatted animatedly on the phone, but as I looked at her she glanced over at me and smiled. I smiled back and was about to face forward again, when a particularly strong gust of wind caught her unexpectedly and she lost her balance and fell against me.

I had bent into the wind a little, so when I grabbed her to steady her, it took me a moment to realize that my left hand was gripping her upper thigh -- under the skirt. I could feel her pantyhose and the firm, smooth skin of her leg under it. Shocked, I looked at her face, and to my surprise she was still smiling at me. I whipped my hand away and she raised one eyebrow, her mouth making a moue of mock disappointment for a moment until she continued talking on the phone.

My heart was pounding. I was 40, married for almost 10 years, and nothing this exciting had happened to me for most of that time.

My senses were in overdrive. An errant strand of hair escaped from the hood of her jacket and waved in the wind. I watched it, fascinated. Her face was still turned to me, gazing at me as she talked, and I noticed some small freckles on her nose. I'm usually averse to risk, but that day something snapped and caution went out the window.

I put my hand back under her skirt and rested it on her thigh again.

The first time was accidental. She fell against me, I steadied her. This time the jury would not acquit. This was deliberate. Sexual harassment. Sexual assault, even. I was reaching out and, uninvited, was touching the thigh of a stranger. My breath caught in my throat.

I looked back to her face. There was no shock there. Maybe a little surprise -- that eyebrow was raised a fraction -- but the smile was back as she continued her phone conversation without a break.

Emboldened, I moved my hand under her skirt until I was touching the swell of her buttock. I cupped it and gently rubbed, my breath coming shorter as my cock swelled in my pants.

Her expression didn't change. Smiling, she chatted on the phone as her eyes held mine.

The traffic stopped and our pedestrian light went green. Together, we started across the road, joined by my hand on her buttock. As she walked her butt rolled deliciously under my hand.

I couldn't believe it. I didn't know this girl. I had just copped a feel in what most people would rightly perceive as a most inappropriate way, and instead of being kneed in the nuts or screamed at, was being smiled at as I continued to caress the gorgeous globes of her bottom.

Halfway up the next block she angled towards a gate leading to a brick apartment. I dropped my hand and waited to see what she'd do next. 

She backed up the path, still chatting to her friend as she beckoned me with a crooked finger.

I glanced up and down the street, perhaps belatedly, to ensure no-one I knew had seen me. Then I raced after her, catching up as she unlocked the door and held it open for me.

Still on the phone, she hung her handbag on a hook near the door and took my hand in hers. I followed as she led me over to a couch. She turned and sat down, but when I moved to sit next to her, she held out her hand and wagged one finger in an "uh, uh" motion. Then she pointed to the floor in front of her.

Understanding struck. I smiled as I knelt down at her feet. She lifted one foot and I took off her black shoe. She pointed her toe at me and I took her dainty foot in both hands, first just holding it then caressing the arch of her sole, the top and the toes hidden in their gusset of pantyhose. She tapped my shoulder with the other foot so I took that shoe off too, and massaged that foot for a while.

She scooched forward a bit on the couch and rubbed my face with her feet. I caught one ankle and kissed the top of her foot, then nibbled and finally sucked on her toes through the pantyhose. I turned to the other foot and treated it the same way. After a while, I wanted more and grasped her slender ankles. Lifting her legs, I rested them on my shoulders and pushed closer to the couch. Although the colour had risen in her face a little, her voice didn't changed as she discussed with the unknown caller the discount she'd got on a knock-off Gucci purse earlier in the day.

As I moved closer I turned my head from side to side, softly kissing her lovely calves. Higher and higher my kisses fell, above the knee, up the inside of her thighs, until I stopped and gazed at the top of her legs as the skirt fell between them to the couch.

I glanced up at her face to ensure she hadn't changed her mind. She leaned back, eyes half lidded, giving nothing away in her expression. There wasn't a signal to continue, but the hell with it, there was no signal to stop either -- so I lifted the front of her skirt and peeked under.

I folded the skirt up onto her jacket as I looked at the juncture of her thighs. The dark pantyhose lightened slightly as her thighs widened, but the dark gusset almost concealed her crotch.

Almost.

I was right. She wasn't wearing anything under her pantyhose. I could just make out the line of her bare labia and above, a thin vee of dark hair. As I moved closer I could smell the heady aroma of excitement, even as a darker patch of moistness seeped into the fabric.

For a moment I hesitated. So far all I'd done was touch and kiss a woman's legs through her pantyhose. If I went any further, there would be no turning back.

But it would have taken a stronger man than me to back away from the smooth thighs and wet pussy of this gorgeous young woman. I leaned forward and breathed in deeply, immersing myself in the unmistakable smell of a woman in heat. I nuzzled each side of her crotch before lapping at the seam of her pussy through the gusset of her pantyhose. Finally there was a reaction, a sharp indrawn breath as my tongue touched her clit. Obviously there was a question from her caller, as she said "No, I'm ok... just having some fun with a guy." As I lost myself in the wonder of her pussy, parts of her conversation wafted by me. "....no... ahhhhhhh.... Mmmmm.... About your age...." ".....ohhhhhh... oh man, yes... no, he's licking my pussy..." "....AHHHHH... right there, don't stop... yes Mum, not bad at all..."

Hold on. "MUM"??? I'm going to town on this girl's vagina and she's telling her mother about it?

"... yes.... I think he'd be up for it.... Mmmmmm... oh god, this is good...." ".... Ok... yep... see you soon! ....Ahhhhhhhhhhhh..."

By this time my brain had turned itself off and I was fixated on one thing only. I didn't care if she told her mother, at that point in time if a Salvation Army band came in and watched I'd just ask them to strike up some porno music.

Breathing heavily, I slid my hands up to the top of her pantyhose and drew them down. She arched her bum off the seat so I could slide them over her cheeks and then raised her legs high in the air so I could pull them off. I knelt back briefly to admire the sight of her white thighs framing her puffy labia and winking arsehole.

I leaned back in while her legs were still up in the air, for the first time touching her bare skin as I held her hips and snuffled my mouth on her pussy. My tongue speared into her wetness, drawing a gasp and a twitch of her legs. Slowly I dragged it up to the top where her clit was sticking out like a little pencil eraser. I circled it with the tip of my tongue, then closed my lips over it and sucked. Her thighs clamped over my ears and trembled with pleasure.

My cock was throbbing and straining for release, so while I licked I fumbled with my belt and pushed my pants down. Extracting myself briefly from the legs squeezed around my head, I stepped out of my trousers and dragged my underpants down. As my cock sprang free and bobbed stiffly 45 degrees above the horizontal, her eyes sparkled and she licked her lips.

I knelt back down and fell on her open cunt like a starving man on a burrito. I sucked, licked, lashed my tongue inside her until it ached. I spread her cheeks and kissed the puckered pink ring between them. She writhed and moaned as I slipped two fingers into her pussy and squeezed my tongue into her arsehole.

I was thinking that this was the best sexual experience of my life, when the click of the door opening and a breeze on my bare arse made me jerk up and spin around in shock.

There in the open door stood a curvaceous woman in her early 40's. Dark chestnut hair hung in curls to her shoulders. She reminded me a little of the British celebrity chef, Nigella Lawson. As if to spite the cold day, she wore a form-hugging short red dress and strappy sandals. However the temperature outside was evident from the bumps made by stiff nipples and a shiver in her voice as she said "Darling, you didn't even turn the heat pump on!"

I was just about to say that I didn't know where the controls were, when I realized she wasn't talking to me. 

"Hi mum!" came the cheery response from the girl whose warm, wet pussy still clamped my fingers in a vice-like grip. A sickly smile plastered itself over my face as I tried to figure out the social conventions around greeting a girl's mother with a bare arse and my stiff cock bobbing in the air. Fortunately, she took the decision out of my hands.

Closing the door, she turned back to me with a smile. "Well hi there!" she said. "My daughter seemed to be quite enamored of your cunnilingus skills on the phone... at least, I think she was -- it was a bit hard to understand what she was saying through the moans of pleasure!" Walking over to me, she reached out a hand. Without thinking, I held out my own... before realizing that I had just withdrawn it from her daughter's pussy.

She grasped my wrist instead and drew my hand close to her face. "Mmmmm," she murmured, sniffing my fingers. "I'd know that delicious smell anywhere."

To my shock, she opened those luscious red lips and sucked on my wet fingers. My cock, which had been slowly dwindling throughout this unconventional situation, suddenly returned to life and stiffened back to its former glory.

The girl behind me laughed. "Oh mum, you're such a slut!"

Her mother pulled her lips off my fingers with a pop and smiled. "Jessica, little harlots with their cunts on display shouldn't throw stones!"

She reached down and grabbed my stiff member, fondling a bit as she gave me a deep tongue kiss. Her large, firm breasts pushed against my chest, and my cock pushed back against her belly.

I slid my hand up between her legs and under her dress, reminded that this was the second time in an hour that I'd intimately touched a woman I didn't even know.

To my delight, I found that mother and daughter shared the same taste in panties -- ie, none. My questing fingers found only hot, puffy pussy lips, furry with pubic hair. She moved her feet apart to accommodate me as I gently rubbed the seam of her pussy until my fingertip was rewarded by moistness. I pushed forward until it was embedded fully inside her.

As we broke our kiss, I said "Please tell me your name... I can't call you 'Mum' while we're doing this!"

She smiled and kissed me softly. "Nicole, honey, but just call me Nikki."

"Nikki, I'm Marty... and I can honestly say it's a pleasure!"

Just then a foot moved up between my bare legs from behind and rubbed my balls gently. "Aren't you forgetting someone?"

Nikki and I turned, my finger still deep inside her mother. Jessica was lying back on the couch, legs spread wide as she slowly stroked her wet pussy. She looked boldly at her mother as her fingers rubbed and stroked her lips and clit. 

Eyes fixed on her daughter, Nikki stepped forward. I slipped my finger from her pussy and watched with bated breath as she sank to her knees between her daughter's legs. She bent forward and grasped Jessica's thighs, then lowered her mouth to her pussy.

As I watched in awe, the mother slowly licked her daughter's damp pussy lips, then parted them with her long tongue and lapped her slit directly.

This was the most erotic thing I had ever imagined. Panting with lust, I knelt behind Nikki and moved her legs apart so I could kneel between them. She pushed her butt back towards me as I lifted her short red dress and peeked beneath.

Smooth white thighs framed a glistening pussy bordered by dark curly hair. Her inner lips, coral in colour, protruded slightly. I grasped her full butt cheeks and parted them, exposing her winking anus to my lustful gaze, and separating her pussy a little so I could look deep inside her.

I couldn't wait another moment, so I didn't. I shuffled up behind her, fitted the head of my straining cock to the entrance of her moist cunt and drove it in to the hilt. There was a surprised "Unh!" from her and a gasp from her daughter as my thrust pushed her mouth hard against Jessica's pussy.

This was heaven. I was up to my nuts in the most gorgeous woman I'd ever seen, while she licked her (also gorgeous) daughter's pussy. I was momentarily sad because I would never have a sexual experience this good again, then mentally slapped myself and instead lost myself in the wonder of this unexpected windfall.

Nikki's cunt seemed to suck at my throbbing dick as I slowly slid in and out. As I did, I played with her butt, her legs, then reached forward and grasped the full globes of her breasts. I rubbed her stiff nipples through the fabric for a moment, then pulled down on the front of her dress until her breasts fell out through the neckline. Her rubbery nipples felt amazing as I gently tugged on them, squeezed them between my fingers and rubbed my palms on them. Over her back, I met her daughter's gaze and we shared a smile.

Jessica, seeing me fondle her mother's tits, leaned back on the couch and unzipped her puffy jacket. Under it she wore a low-cut see-through black blouse, and under that I could see a frilly black lace bra. She unbuttoned her blouse slowly, watching me watching her, until her pale skin showed from neck to belly. Leaning forward, she shrugged out of her jacket and unclipped her bra, skillfully removing it while leaving her blouse hanging over her breasts.

Through the translucent fabric I could see her pink aureole and jutting nipples. She leaned forward over her mother's lapping head and whispered "My boobs need some fun too!"

Still holding her mother's left breast in my left hand, I reached over her back and cupped Jessica's left breast in my right. I palmed it gently through the blouse, marveling at the different feel. Nikki's breast was heavy and soft, full and comforting. Jessica's breast was smaller and pert, firm and smooth, elastic in her youth. The thought crossed my mind that I was in a kind of time warp, feeling the same breast separated by twenty years and childbirth. Both their nipples were stiff with pleasure.

Jessica moaned softly as I switched hands, fondling each woman's right breast. The sensations I was feeling through hands and cock, the awesome sight of two bare cunts and the forbidden thrill of seeing an incestuous act, all combined to push me over the edge. I dropped their breasts to grab Nikki's hips, and started thrusting rapidly in and out of her slippery hole.

Her moans and gasps of pleasure came faster, at the cost of Jessica's as her upcoming orgasm made her licking more sporadic. Jessica was forced to take matters into her own hands and did so with relish, eyes wide as she took pleasure from the sight of her mother cumming while she rapidly masturbated her clit with one hand.

As I felt Nikki's orgasm through the clenching of her cunt, I let myself go and thrust myself to the nuts inside Nikki as I spurted ropes of cum up her spasming pussy. My cock spurted again and again as I gripped her hips with white fingers and pulled her back against me as hard as I could. Her shrieks of pleasure reached a crescendo and joined with her daughter's as Jessica's own hips jerked frantically and a small gush of liquid flowed from her cunt.

As I came down from the high of my orgasm, I idly moved my cock back and forth in Nikki's wet pussy -- made far wetter by my jism. I was transfixed by the sight of Jessica's sopping cunt as she spread her legs open wide to my gaze and grinned impishly at me. Her mother's head was down on her arms as she panted, out of breath and happy.

"Hope you're not a one-shot wonder," Jessica said. "Mum stole that turn, but my pussy needs cock too!"

I was about to answer that I wasn't as young as I used to be, when to my surprise I noticed that my cock hadn't softened. The pure eroticism of the situation and the heavy scent of sex kept my libido up. As I looked at them both, my dick twitched and Nikki gave a startled "Oh!"

I slowly withdrew my cock from her warm pussy, and it glistened like an oil-coated piston with our juices. Standing, I walked beside her with cock bobbing before me until I reached Jessica.

She leaned forward on the couch and grasped my penis, pulling me towards her. Her soft mouth closed around my wet knob and she murmured appreciatively as she tasted her mother's juices on my shaft.

Nikki collapsed on the couch next to her daughter and slumped back, spreading her creamy thighs apart and stretching one leg over Jessica's. Languidly she reached down and played with her daughter's moist pussy lips as Jessica continued to suck on my penis. This was fantastic. As great as the blow job was, I gently pushed Jessica back on to the couch and knelt down before the two gorgeous women. As her mother played with her pussy, Jessica reached across and slipped a finger into Nikki's freshly fucked cunt. I knelt back and slowly stroked my rock-hard cock as I watched this mother and daughter masturbate each other.

Jessica half rolled on to her mother, rubbing her thigh against her mother's cunt as she kissed her deeply. I gazed at the globes of her bum and the winking hole between her cheeks. Shuffling forward, I guided the head of my cock to her streaming pussy and rubbed it up and down between her bare labia. I pressed forward until the tip lodged in her tight hole then continued to push slowly until my entire length was firmly wedged in the warm velvet of her vagina. I lifted her shirt and nuzzled her smooth back as I reached around and between the girls, grasping Jessica's breasts.




Risk



As Jessica and Nikki continued to kiss deeply, I thrust slowly in and out of Jessica's cunt. Foremost in my mind though was her pink arsehole. After a minute or so I rubbed a finger along her cunt as well, gathering juice which I spread around her ring. I pushed my finger into her bottom, twisting it around and enjoying the heat of her anus. When I pulled it out with a little "pop" and withdrew my cock from her cunt, I'm pretty sure she knew what was going to happen.

"Gently," she whispered, but she arched her bum up a bit and braced herself against her mother. As I guided my knob to her puckered ring, I felt her mother's questing hand between us, first fondling my balls and then pushing into her daughter's cunt. I slowly pushed forward until my knob popped through her rubbery ring and into the heat of her arse.

"Ungh!" she grunted as I pushed into her. Gently, I continued to push until I was lodged balls-deep inside her. Pulling out until just my knob was inside her, I slipped a finger into Nikki's sopping cunt and wiggled it around before scooping some liquid out and spreading it on my cock. Pushing back was slightly easier this time, but the sensation of her ring stretched around my dick was incredible.

"Nikki," I said, "Can you get up here? I want to lick your pussy."

Nikki squirmed out from below her daughter and flashed me a grin. "What a gentleman!" she murmered.

Jessica knelt in front of the sofa and pushed her firm white cheeks back against my thighs, my throbbing cock firmly lodged up her pink anus. She flexed her butt back and forth, enjoying the sensation of my balls on her pussy. Nikki was about to swing her leg over her when I stopped her.

"I want you naked," I said.

Nikki slipped her shoulders out of her dress and shimmied it over her hips. I drank in the sight of her heavy breasts with dark pink areolae, nipples standing proud. Further down was the slight bulge of her firm stomach, then the start of her dark pubic hair. As she pushed the dress over her hips and it puddled around her feet, I stared in admiration at her fully-bushed pussy, smooth long thighs and shapely calves.

Nikki posed for a moment, then swung her leg over her daughter's back and bent down. Her breasts hung down and her nipples grazed Jessica's back, then she arched her bum up and flattened her breasts against her. She reached under Jessica and massaged her breasts, tugging gently on her nipples and eliciting gentle moans of pleasure from her daughter.

In the meantime, I admired the view from the rear. Inches from my face, the twin smooth globes of her cheeks were parted to reveal the puckered ring of her anus and her glistening pink pussy. I breathed in deeply, my nose almost touching her wet cunt, and the scent of her arousal stiffened my cock even further.

I bent over the two women, slowly pumping in and out of Jessica's rubbery ring, my chest hard against Nikki's firm buttocks. I trailed kisses down her spine until I got to her bottom. I suddenly gave one cheek a hard smack and she jerked in surprise, relaxing as I pressed soft kisses on the reddening mark. I grasped her hips and pulled up. She got the message and straightened her legs, pushing her magnificent bottom right against my face.

I couldn't hold back any longer and buried my nose and mouth into the wet fig of her cunt. I lapped with long strokes and pushed my tongue in as far as it would go. She grunted like Monica Seles as I snuffled my face into her warm, wet vagina and speared my tongue into her again and again.

I was feeling the rising tide of my climax and thrust faster into Jessica. Leaning back from Nikki's pussy, I replaced my tongue with my fingers and thrust three of them into her. With my other hand I fondled Jessica's streaming cunt, building up a beautiful rhythm with these two beauties.

Legs trembling, panting, out of control, all three of us reached climax together. Jessica screamed as she banged back against my fingers and cock, her ring pulsating wildly, milking me as I pumped my cum into her arse. On my other hand, Nikki's grunting rose in volume and frequency until with a final "Aaaaahhh!!" her cunt clamped tight on my fingers and her whole body trembled. Spots flashed before my eyes as my spasming dick, clenched at the base by Jessica's tight ring, spurted more than I ever had before.

When we all recovered, we showered together, pressed inside the cubicle and soaping each other thoroughly. I took the opportunity to fondle and caress every luscious curve of these magnificent beauties, storing memories which I was certain I'd wank to many times in the future. All three of us hugged and kissed gently, enjoying the closeness. As I looked down I knew I'd remember the sight of four gorgeous breasts pressing against my chest for the rest of my life.

After we dressed, Jessica and Nikki hugged me again, planting kisses on my cheeks in unison. I sighed, knowing that this unique erotic experience was over. As one, the women leaned back and looked at me questioningly. 

"What's wrong, honey?" asked Nikki.

"Oh, you know -- just a bit depressed that I have to go back to normal life again," I said. "This was so fantastic -- I never wanted it to end!"

Nikki and Jessica looked at each other and laughed.

"End?" said Jessica. "Who said anything about it ending?"

"Next Thursday," said Nikki. "Same time, same place. How about we dress up a little for him, Jess? What do you prefer, Marty -- French maids, naughty nurses, or nuns?"

I bought a lotto ticket on the way home.



Risk & Reward



It's something I thought I'd never do, but as I wait for you, I can't condemn myself for wanting this. Others judge me, but I don't care. They aren't me, in my state of mind with my feelings. I've denied myself for too long, and my attraction to you all but consumes me now. Apprehension and excitement fill me as your key turns in the lock.

Seeing you again takes my breath away. You're familiar, yet strange and forbidden as I smile and touch you with trembling hands. You crouch in front of my wheelchair, steady my hands, smile, and kiss me. Suddenly I'm catapulted back to that day in the park.. I ache for you beyond words with a yearning only you can assuage. It's simultaneously beautiful and frightening, but I know I must give in to it or spend my whole life searching for something I'll probably never find again.

We kiss again, your lips caressing my neck in that irresistibly maddening way as your arms tighten around me. You lift me out of the chair and carry me to the bed. I realize I'm defenseless in your arms, and my heart pounds as I wonder how I can trust and be scared of being hurt again simultaneously.

"You look so beautiful." you whisper, as you place me on the bed and stare. I see a tinge of regret in your eyes and swallow around the lump in my throat. For a moment, I remember the loneliness of the last few months, how I wish you'd never left, and wonder why things fell apart. I have missed you, and now that you're here, I just want to cherish the time we have and enjoy each other for as long as we can.

"Thank you." My words are barely audible, but I can't take my eyes off you. You lie down next to me, take me in your arms, and suddenly my stomach is in knots.

"Relax. It's going to be okay." you assure, as you kiss me again and your hands melt into my soft skin.

I close my eyes and sigh as you begin to slowly undress me. You untie and remove my emerald colored satin robe to reveal the shorter matching baby doll nightie underneath, which accents my breasts and waistline. I bought it especially to entice you on our first night together.

Your breath catches as you run your hands slowly over the smooth fabric, reverently tracing the contours of my body underneath. Bringing the thin straps down off my shoulders, you kiss my lips and slowly inch your way down, peeling away the garment as you go. You cup my breasts, and they are so sensitive the nipples pucker at your slightest touch. Your fingers move slowly in a circle around each mound, then play with the erect nipples at the top. I shiver, liking this too much. Just when I think it can't get any better, your tongue takes over where your hands left off. It glides over my flesh endlessly until finally you suck and nibble on each nipple in turn. Intense waves of pleasure rush through me as you alternate between breasts. You do this until my breathing comes in gasps, and when I feel your fingers moving in and out of me, I cry out and run my fingers through your hair. My climax is brief but intense, and I can hardly wait to feel you cum inside me.

Untucking your shirt from your jeans, I unsnap them and help you out of your clothes. Your hair is slightly mussed, and intense passion floods your expression as you kiss me deeply and roughly this time. You've barely scratched the surface of the raging desire inside us both as your mouth and hands continue savoring my body. I feel your hardening cock against me, and you suck in your breath when I reach down to stroke it, bringing your mouth to mine and kissing softly this time. Your lips graze my ears, and you moan as they linger in my floral scented hair. "Mmmmm....You smell so good!"

I laugh seductively, stroking and kissing you at the same time, then get on top of you and fondle your cock in my hands. "And I want to make you feel good, too!"

Your moans and exclamations of pleasure intensify my arousal as I softly kiss the insides of your thighs, smile, and rub your cock up and down. I start slowly at first, then increase friction, speed and pressure gradually. I kiss and lick the sensitive underside of it, then grace the top and front with kisses, too. Your breathing is erratic now, and you cry out as I change the motion from side to side, wanting to prolong your pleasure and delay your orgasm as long as I can. I put a condom on you, finally pleasuring you with my mouth as you laugh in relief. "Yes, oh please, yes!"

My tongue caresses your hardness slowly and thoroughly, each skillful glide bringing you closer to bliss and delirium. Slowly I guide you in to me. The walls of my vagina close tight around you in warm wetness, and I welcome every sensation as I rock back and forth on top of you, letting you in deeper and deeper. I feel you throbbing, and as my orgasm builds again, I close my eyes and encourage you to cum. We peak almost simultaneously, and the sensations are incredible, bringing us to ecstasy as we lose touch with reality and our shouts of release resonate together.

At last we slowly but reluctantly come back down, and I collapse against your chest. You hold me tightly while we lie still and catch our breaths, stroking my hair and kissing my scalp. I gaze at you lovingly as you fall asleep. Half an hour later you wake, smiling to see me with you. "Thank you. That was wonderful."

"Yes, it was." Kissing you, I snuggle closer and sigh wistfully. Fighting back tears of relief, joy, and sorrow, I look into your eyes and you look back at me with questioning concern. "I can't help it. I want you again. Please, Matt... Please make love to me."



Risk and Reward







Risk Management



Many thanks to whoredinarygirl for all the hard work in editing and improving this story from a previous version.

"You have to break the pattern," Serena was saying. "If you think you can keep doing the same things and get different results, that means you are crazy."

I was pretending to listen and hoping she couldn't tell I was tuning her out. I reminded myself again that she was my oldest and dearest friend. I could always cry on her shoulder, and I knew she was loyal and would never hesitate to help me out of a jam. In the last few years, I've had to remind myself a lot about her good qualities as she's been getting increasingly insufferable.

It's not just the platitudes that she dispenses as advice on how to improve myself. What's infuriating is that she seems to think she's perfect. She would never put it in those words, but it's clear from the way she always uses herself as an example to illustrate the right way to do something, as opposed to the wrong way, in which I'm always the example.

Serena's air of superiority and her condescension are particularly galling when it comes to our love lives. As far as I can see, there's not much difference between us. I can't find a good man, and she can't keep one. We end up in the same place. But that's not how Serena sees it.

"When you engage in risky behavior, you're asking to get hurt," she was saying. "You're putting yourself in situations that have a high probability of getting you in trouble. Like, if you're dressed slutty and walking down a deserted street in a bad part of town, you're asking for something bad to happen to you. And there's no one else to blame when it happens."

"OK," I said, interrupting her lecture. "I know I let myself get carried away if he's good looking and puts on a good act, but you spent two years with Harvey, and now we're both sitting in this restaurant without a man in our lives. So if I had done what you did, how would it be any different?"

It only stopped her for a second. "I have a man in my life," she said, "and anyway, what happened with Harvey has nothing to do with what I'm talking about."

She wanted to get back to giving advice, but this was the first interesting thing I had heard through dinner and I wasn't going to let go. "What do you mean, you have a man in your life? Who is he?"

"You wouldn't know him," said Serena. "He just arrived in town a couple of weeks ago. I'm meeting him later."

"Is that why you're dressed like that?" I said. I had asked her earlier about why she was showing so much cleavage, and why her skirt was up to her ass. She brushed aside my questions and also wouldn't tell me why she was wearing makeup heavy enough for a streetwalker. I had never seen her looking like this in all the years I'd known her.

"Blade is an art photographer; he showed me some of his amazing pictures," she said, "the models are all over the top, and the lighting is garish, but the total effect is really striking. He asked me if I was too shy to look like that in public, and he said he thought I could pull it off."

"Blade is an unusual name," I said, "but I've heard it before and not long ago. What do you know about him?"

"I looked him up online, if that's what you mean," she said. "He's legit. There's a big website, and lot of galleries in New York have his photos."

"How did you meet him?" I said.

"It was an accident," she said. "He was at this bar where I sometimes go with some friends after work. Anyway, I can't tell you much about him yet. Tonight is only the second time I'm going out with him."

Something popped into my mind about the name "Blade." It was like an alarm. All of a sudden, I felt like warning Serena about Blade, but I couldn't think of a single reason why, especially if he was a legitimate artist. If I said anything, she'd say I was stupid and superstitious, and she'd probably be right.

"Let's get back to Harvey," I said. "You have to admit, you wasted two years with him."

"I didn't waste two years," she said. "It was a learning experience. I found out what I wanted in a man and what I didn't want."

"What more could you want than what Harvey gave you?" I asked. "He was a hunk, and he was smart and funny and kind and successful. He worshipped the ground you walked on. He would do anything you wanted him to do. You two couldn't get enough of each other; now you've lost him."

"I dumped him," she said. "I didn't lose him."

"I know," I said. "And I know how you did it. No matter what he did to you, how could you humiliate and belittle him like that? You didn't just break his heart; you almost destroyed him."

I could tell someone had brought this up to Serena before because her answer sounded prepared.

"What you said shows just why I was right in getting rid of him," she said. "I didn't do anything to him in public. It was his idea to go around telling everyone what I said."

"So you really said those things to him," I said. "When he told me, I thought he was delusional. Nobody could be that cruel. You verbally emasculated him."

"I just told him what he needed to hear," she said. "It was for his own good. I hoped it would help him change so he wouldn't let women run all over him."

"Like you did?" I asked.

She ignored this. "I heard he's much better now," she said, "so maybe it worked."

"Yes," I said. "After four months of heavy therapy, he's no longer suicidal. But you need to be careful. When I saw him a couple of weeks ago and your name came up, I didn't like what he said or the tone of his voice. He told me he needs to get some kind of closure to be able to move on without the mental baggage he has now. I asked him what he meant, but he didn't explain."

"That's what I heard, too," said Serena. "But this is a good example for you. Even though I know Harvey well, and I'm sure he'd never hurt a flea, I'm still taking precautions. Whether I'm shopping or at the club or in the garage at work, I'm aware of myself and my situation. I'm not afraid of him, but I don't want any messy scenes that we would both regret."

"I'm glad," I said. "Seriously, whatever I think about what you did to him, the last thing I would ever want is for you to get hurt. His eyes were really scary when he was talking about you. I was going to suggest you call the police and find out how you could get a restraining order, but he never said anything that could be interpreted as a threat."

"I'll be careful," she said, getting up. "I've got to go to the ladies room. Want to come with me?"

"Are you worried about being alone?" I said.

"No," she said. "It's right over there. You can see the entryway from here. If you're not coming, you can watch me."

"OK, I'll do that," I said.

As I watched her walk away, I thought about "Blade" again, and the same bad feelings came back. I decided I would say something when she returned to the table, but I didn't. She was a different mood.

"I've got to go in a few minutes," she said.

"Where are you meeting Blade?" I said.

"Never mind," she said. "Listen, Reese, you know I'm not a bad person. I've been thinking about what happened, and I agree that I was too hard on Harvey. Once I work up a head of steam, it's hard to stop me. He didn't deserve all that. You know I really loved him for a long time. I think maybe I still love him, but I couldn't spend my life with someone I could squash like an ant. He's better off without me. If you see him again, please tell him that I'm sorry about everything."

"OK," I said, "but promise me you'll be really careful."

"I will," she said.

After that, we talked about other things until we paid the check. She was leaving the restaurant through a different exit, and about 10 seconds after she kissed me goodbye and walked off, it hit me. Blade. Helen was the one who told me about Blade. Blade was the buddy who was coming to town to help Harvey get over his depression. They were like blood brothers, and Blade and Harvey would do anything for one other. Was this the Blade that Serena was all tarted up for? Was she walking into a trap?

I ran after her. The restaurant was attached to a hotel, and as I looked around in a panic, I saw Serena at the other end of a long lobby. I ran after her as fast as I could, but the lobby was crowded, and she had disappeared when I got to where she had been. I looked around, but all I saw were elevators to the hotel rooms and the hotel's lounge.

When I walked into the lounge, I saw her right away, sitting at the bar and scanning the room. As I made my way to her, I saw a tall, good-looking guy in a turtleneck come up to her and take her hand. I had noticed the guy in the restaurant. He had walked back and forth not far from our table, behind Serena's back. He must have been watching us.

I started toward them, but they began walking around tables and back to the entrance I had just come in. I saw them in heavy conversation, and I was sure I saw her shake her head several times. I rushed back the way I had come, and I saw them in front of the elevators. They were still talking and she was definitely shaking her head, and it looked like she was shaking her hand, too, trying to get it out of his grip. As I ran to them, she turned and saw me just as he pulled her into an elevator that had just arrived.. She stared at me as he pulled her into an elevator that had just arrived. The door was almost closed as I got to the elevator. I pushed at the button over and over, but the door didn't stop; instead, I saw another elevator door open.

I looked above the door of the elevator they had taken, and the display showed it had stopped on the second floor. I jumped into the open elevator and pressed "2." It seemed to take forever until the doors opened. I ran out and looked around. There were long, empty corridors in both directions. I walked to the end of one corridor and saw another corridor connected at a right angle. It was also empty. I went back to the elevator and walked as far as I could in the other direction. Nothing.

I went all the way to the end in the original direction again and stopped at each door, putting my ear against it and listening hard. This was an elegant, older hotel, and I wondered if there were security cameras watching me. I hoped there were. I didn't see any. If a guard showed up, I was going to make him open every room for me.

As I rounded the corner into the first corridor again, I ran into something big. He grabbed me and held me tight, putting a large hand over my mouth and nose so I could barely breathe. He opened a door and dragged me in. He pulled me into the bathroom and stuffed a small towel into my mouth. Afterward he let me go and just held onto my hand, pulling me back into the first room.

Up to then he had held me tightly to him, but as he was pulling me to the couch, I saw it was Harvey. Suddenly, I was shaking, but strangely, I wasn't frightened of him. I knew he wouldn't hurt a fly. I was frightened of Blade. Was he mutilating Serena in some horrible way? I had no idea what Blade would do for his blood brother. I listened for Serena's screams, but I didn't hear a sound.

Harvey pulled me down on the couch and then took my hands and pulled them behind me, doing something to them. They were cuffed, not with metal handcuffs but with some kind of cloth Velcro thing. He then he got up and sat down on a chair facing the couch. I sat there with the towel in my mouth and my hands tied behind my back looking at him. He didn't have the look of a depraved killer. This was just Harvey, the nice boy that I always felt sorry for because of the way Serena walked all over him.

He let out his breath. "I'm sorry you had to get mixed up in this, Reese," he said. "I didn't realize Serena was having dinner with you tonight. Then I saw that you guessed what was going on, and I couldn't let you interfere. Please don't worry about Serena. She's in no danger. Nod your head if you believe me."

I nodded, but very slowly. I did it because I could tell he wanted me to, but I wasn't so sure she was in no danger.

"I don't think you're convinced," he said. "I will prove it to you, but right now, I have to leave you for a little while. When I come back, I hope I can take off the gag and the restraints."

He got up and walked across the room into a small alcove and then turned left and disappeared. I sat on the couch for a while shaking and wondering what to do. My legs were free, and I decided to try to get out of the room. I got up and walked to the door. I could turn around and reach the handle. I turned it, but the door didn't open. Then I saw the dead bolt switch up higher on the door. There was no way I could reach it with my hands locked behind me.

I looked around the room. It was a large suite. I saw the telephone. What if I knocked the receiver off it and found a way to dial zero? I couldn't talk, and there were no other sounds. Would someone downstairs become suspicious and send up a security guard? It wasn't likely.

I walked around the suite and got to the alcove where Harvey had disappeared. There were three rooms around the alcove. Two of them were open. I went into each one, and they were just large bedrooms, exactly the same size. The third door was closed. I put my ear to the door, and I heard sounds, but they were soft. I couldn't even tell if they were voices. As scared as I was, I decided to turn around and see if I could open the door with my hands behind me, but the door was locked.

I went back to the main room, sat down and looked at the clock. Harvey walked back into the room around 10 minutes later.

"If you will sit down on the couch, I'll explain this," he said. I sat down.

"I would like to take out your gag and remove the restraints from your wrists," he said. "If you promise me you won't say anything or get violent, I'll do that right now. If you break your promise, I'll have to gag and restrain you again, and you'll stay that way until everything's finished. Will you promise?"

I nodded, and he removed the gag and freed my hands.

"I'm actually glad it turned out this way," he said, "because now you can take Serena home."

"What are you doing to Serena?" I asked.

"Come with me," he said and took one of my hands in his. He led me to the closed bedroom door and turned the doorknob. It was no longer locked.

As we walked in I had to blink because the light was so bright. There were several tall lamps like photographers use around the room and they were all turned on. After I blinked, I saw Serena and screamed. Harvey put his hand over my mouth until I stopped. I didn't try to say anything after that. I just stared. My eyes were bugging out of my head.

Serena was on the bed on her hands and knees. She was naked. Behind her was a naked man who was thrusting in and out of her. I squinted, and I saw he was doing it in her anus, not her vagina.

In front of her was another naked man, and she was sucking him. As I watched, she moved her head back and forth on his penis, and then she pulled her mouth off of him at times and flicked her tongue on the tip and caressed it. She licked the entire shaft and even lowered her head to lick his testicles before sucking him in again. The man's hands weren't on her head, and her hands were on the bed with nothing restraining them. She was only using her head, and it looked like she was enthusiastic about what she was doing.

Next to the bed was another man holding a video camera. He slowly moved between her mouth working on the man in front and the penis - it was a large one - penetrating her anus and going faster as I watched. It looked as though Serena was moving her butt against the man behind her, and as he moved faster, the bodies were slamming together violently. The man's hands were at his side, but as I watched, he moved them to hold her buttocks and then pounded even harder into them a few times and stopped. She kept noisily sucking the man in front of her.

After a few minutes, the man behind her pulled out slowly. I saw a trickle of semen fall from her anus as his penis fell out.

Then I saw the man in front of her tap Serena on the nose with his finger, and she opened her mouth wide. He pulled his penis out of her mouth and got up and went around behind her. The man who had been behind her got off the bed and took the camera from the man who had been filming. The man who now held the camera was pulling some clothes on. The man who had been getting sucked plunged into her anus hard, and for the first time, I heard Serena's voice. She didn't say anything, but let out a loud moan, and then there was a penis in her mouth again.

I looked up, and behind the bright lights, I saw movement. I squinted and saw there were naked men standing back from the bed. One of them must have gotten onto the bed and put his penis into Serena's mouth. She began doing the same things as she had been doing before, and the man behind her began pounding her anus as her butt moved to meet him and make his pounding stronger. The man who had come inside her moments before was filming everything.

I heard a voice. It was Harvey's. "Reese is here, Serena," he said. "Look over this way."

Serena turned her head. I saw her eyes were wide, but the huge penis filling her mouth prevented her from making any other expression. She never stopped working at it while looking at me.

"Serena, I'd like you to stop sucking for a moment and give Reese a big smile," he said. "Keep on sucking until you are ready, and then let it drop out of your mouth and give Reese a big smile. Then you can go back to enjoying yourself. OK? Whenever you're ready."

I felt like I was in a horror movie watching Serena being pounded from behind and sucking the man in front of her. They must have hypnotized or drugged her. She dropped the penis from her mouth, turned to me and smiled broadly. I looked at her closely. The smile wasn't a happy smile. Did I see a teardrop in her eye? I couldn't be sure. She stopped smiling and moved her head back to the penis and sucked it in before working on it again. I stared at her until Harvey took my hand and led me out the bedroom door. He closed it behind him and I no longer heard the sucking sounds of her mouth and the squishy sounds of the large penis in her anus.

Harvey led me back to the couch, and I sat down. He sat down opposite me and watched me, as if he was waiting for something. I wanted to ask a million questions, but I didn't know where to start. Finally, I said, "So, Serena is really enjoying what they are doing to her. Is that what you were trying to show me?"

"Of course not," he said. "That's just for the video. Serena is hating every second of this, but she's acting. Did you take a look at her butt?"

"What do you mean?" I said.

"Did you notice it was bright red?" he said. "When we began, I had to spank her really hard until she went along with acting like she was enjoying herself. She knows that this way it will be a hundred times more humiliating."

"What about her ass?" I asked. "The men are destroying it. She'll need surgery."

"Don't be silly," he said. "First of all, I put a ton of lube inside her. Then I went first. I'm pretty large, but I went slowly and carefully and let her adjust to my size before I came. That opened her up for the other guys. By the time the third guy got to her, his penis went in easily.

"That doesn't mean she's not experiencing a lot of discomfort, along with the humiliation, but they're not going to tear any tissue. She'll be stretched and bruised and in pain for a couple of weeks. A month from now, she won't feel anything except mental pain. Of course, that hurts bad, too.

"There are only eight other guys in there. Blade isn't one of them. He's gay. After each one finishes, they are getting dressed. Then Serena will eat a creampie cocktail."

"A what?" I asked.




Risk Management



"The men will put her on the edge of the bed with her butt hanging over the side and pull her legs back. Then we'll put a widemouth pitcher right below her anus. We'll use a rubber bulb syringe to squeeze a bunch of air into her colon. The air will make her fart over and over until just about all the semen inside her is in the pitcher.

"Then we've got a tall, clear cocktail glass. She's going to smile really wide as she pours the stuff from the pitcher into the cocktail glass until it's full to the top. Then she's going to put a straw into the glass and start sucking. She'll suck up everything in that glass.

"That will be the end of this. Then you will help Serena get dressed, and I'll help you get her home. Are you willing to do that?"

"Of course," I said. "I just hope she doesn't think I had any part in this."

"I already told her you didn't," he said, "but I'll tell her again. And I promise you I will never touch her or even see her again. I'm already feeling bad about this, but I had to do it. You know what the funny thing is?"

"I don't think there's anything funny about this," I said, "and when you are in jail, you might not think it's so funny either."

"I meant funny strange," he said. "I realized a couple of days ago that I'm doing this because I love her, and I will probably always love her, even though after tonight, she will hate me more than anyone has ever hated anyone. Before I went through therapy, my mind was full of cruel, evil Serena - Serena the witch, Serena the castrater. 

"At the same time, I couldn't stop loving her. I had to destroy the bad memory, and tonight has already done it. I am feeling a stronger love for her than ever before - and also sadness that I will never have a chance to offer it to her."

"Don't be so sure," I said.

"What do you mean?" he said.

I told him what Serena had said at dinner. That stopped him cold for a few seconds.

"I don't know," he finally said. "Maybe tonight proves that she can't squash me like an ant anymore, but maybe it doesn't. I hope I've learned my lesson from all this. But if she did forgive me, I might start worshipping her all over again and then drive her away again. I guess a lot is in your hands."

"What do you mean?" I said.

"She told me many times that you have more common sense than any of her other friends do and that she should listen to you more often," he said.

"She said that?" I said.

"Yes," he said. "So I figure you'll advise her about me. In fact, I'm going to put my life in your hands. I took a big risk tonight, and as you said before, I might end up in jail. My plan was to blackmail Serena. If she went to the authorities, I would be finished, but before I went to prison, I would post the video of her on the Internet and let all of my friends and her friends know where to find it.

"Instead of that, I'm going to tell her that I'm making a copy of the video and giving it to you. If you think I should be behind bars, you can show it to the police. I won't post my copy. Don't tell Serena this, but if she finds a way to forgive me and if we ever get together again and if we find we belong with each other - a lot of ifs - I'll give her the video on our honeymoon to break or watch or whatever she wants."

The door to the bedroom opened, and eight men walked out. They were dressed and didn't look out of the ordinary, except for all being well built. They walked past us and left. Harvey stood up and said, "We better go to her now."

She didn't have far to walk - to the elevator, to Harvey's car, to her building elevator, to her apartment - but even though her legs were wider apart than a bowlegged cowboy's, I could see that each step was hard. Just before we got into the car, she threw up in the parking lot. It was her dinner, mixed with a lot of white stuff.

Before I helped her out of his car, Harvey said he would personally drop off my copy of the video at my office in a couple of days because he didn't trust the mail on something like that.

From the time I walked back into the bedroom of the hotel suite and began soothing Serena and helping her dress, to supporting her while she was walking, to tucking her into her bed and then driving home, my mind was stuck on one thing. When I got home, I was exhausted and felt like taking a shower before going to bed. During the shower I gave myself an orgasm, and I did at least a couple more after I went to bed.

I fell asleep and woke up still thinking about the same thing. I was ashamed of myself, but I couldn't stop thinking about it. Serena was my best friend in the world. I would do anything for her. Last night, I had watched her being ravished. The images were still strong in my mind. So was the image of her smiling as the come exploded from her anus, and I hadn't even seen her do that. It was the same with the image of her sucking up all the come through a straw.

All these images would be on the video Harvey was going to bring me. I could pop the disk into my player and watch it whenever I wanted. Serena was my dearest and oldest friend. Would that matter to her? If it did, would I watch the video anyway? As I was asking myself these questions, my fingers began moving. I had another orgasm.



Risk Your Heart



All rights reserved. No part of this novella may be reproduced without written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations with credit to M.J. Roberts. Copyright © M.J. Roberts 2015. 

ALL CHARACTERS ARE OVER 18 YEARS OLD.

This story won first place in Literotica's 2015 Summer Lovin' contest. If you like it, please make sure to give it the number of stars you think it deserves, to keep it on top of the top lists.

Thanks!

Dear Readers,

With every story I write, I try to add something to make it even better than the last. More romance, hotter sex, a character who battles his or her own inner demons the way we really do. Here's your chance to journey with two new people I hope you'll fall in love with.

Enjoy.

MJ





Risk Your Heart



I looked in his eyes. They were a really nice warm shade of brown with gold flecks. Of course the cheerleader married him. "So one day, three years ago, we were having sex..." he trailed off for a second and looked at me, like he was making sure it was okay to say this. I nodded.

He smiled, remembering. "We were having sex, and I was on top of her, having a grand old time, and she laughed. Just out of nowhere. It was probably just a giggle of joy really. But I said, 'You think that's funny?' and she nodded, and I said, 'I'll show you funny', and I started pounding harder." 

He paused staring at a blank spot on the church wall. "Well that just made her laugh harder, so I started thrusting harder, and she started laughing more, and you know how it is, it was a challenge now, pretty soon I was going at it with everything I had and she said, 'You're going to break something.' Pretty soon we were both laughing and sweating and coming and it was absolutely the best sex you could possibly imagine, the best I've ever had, I swear I saw stars I came so hard."

He paused. I wondered if that was the end of the story.

"I rolled off her, and she put her hand to her chest and said, 'Ow.' Then I said, 'What?' She said, 'I have terrible heartburn or something.' I thought, serves you right for laughing at me during sex, but I didn't get a chance to say it because she said. 'It really hurts, Drew, will you go get me some Tums? I hopped out of bed to get her some Tums, and when I returned with the bottle she was dead."

I blinked.

"It wasn't heartburn. It was 'or something'. She had a heart attack."

"Oh my God. Drew." 

"I never told anybody that before. I mean, the, you know"—he made a pumping gesture with his hands—"you know, the sex part. Everyone knows my wife died of a heart attack."

"Holy." I covered my mouth, horrified. "How old was she?"

"Twenty-three," Drew said. "You see, no one thinks that can happen to someone that young, right? That's part of the reason I told you. You look about that age. Young. Too young to have lost someone you love. You said you lost someone. It's bad enough that you want to break things, throw dishes, drive off a cliff, cry in front of a stranger? Well. I get it. But don't drive off a cliff, and don't cry in front of a stranger anymore. Cry in front of a friend."

I gave him a half smile, one side of my mouth sort of quirking up, as my eyes filled again, but the fat tears didn't roll over. 

"Your turn," he said.

I shook my head. 

"Come on, it can't be worse than my story. I fucked my wife to death."

"You did not!"

"I know. I just wanted to see if I could goad you into sharing. Maybe now's not the time. Maybe it's time for action. Let's figure out which project you're going to volunteer on."

"Can you decide for me?" I asked in a small voice.

"Sure, Leah," he said. The way he said my name, drawing it out slightly, with a deep tender sound made me feel warm inside. "Let's start you off with the Labor Day festival. I know we're smack in the middle of July, and September seems far away, but in planning terms, it's practically right around the corner. We've got to hop to it. The start of September, change of seasons, maybe it will give you something to look forward to; I have a feeling it's been one hard summer for you."

"You can say that again."

"Maybe a little hard labor will do you good," Drew said.

A little hard something anyway. Maybe not so little. 

*

Drew gave me my assignments. I was going to work on publicity for the Labor Day festival, demonstration, show, and concert in the park. He walked me to my car. Only when we got there I remembered that the car hadn't started.

"Fuck," I said.

"Sssshh," Drew said. "You're in church."

"It's the church parking lot. That doesn't count." I kicked my front tire.

"What's wrong?"

"I think my battery's dead."

"No problem. I've got cables." 

I waited while Drew drove his car up to mine and did that thing with the jumper cables that all guys know how to do. After a minute he said, "Okay, now try."

I did. Same sputtering sound. 

Drew leaned into my open driver's side window. "That's not the battery."

"What is it?"

He shrugged. "Alternator probably."

Yikes.

I took my cell phone out to call a tow truck. No service. "Fuck."

"Bad girl," Drew said.

I snapped my head around to him. He had been joking; he hadn't meant to make me wet.

Drew took out his cell. He had service. He put the phone up to his face and made his voice mimic the exact tone of the geeky guy in those old commercials. "Can you hear me now?" Drew glanced over at me, and I could see he was fighting a smile.

"Very funny," I said. 

I got out and stood next to him. I went to grab the phone from him, but he held it up and away and I had to reach for it, bringing my body against his.

"Tell me who you lost," he said softly.

"My..."—Dominant—"Boyfriend. We never officially got married, but we lived together for eleven years. So by common law, that's my husband. He died a year ago. Car accident."

"Eleven years?" Drew said. "How old are you?"

"Twenty-six," I said. 

I could see him do the math in his head and raise his eyebrows. 

"We weren't..." I touched my forefinger and thumb together and made a fucking motion with my fingers. "You know. Together  that way  at first."

He put his hands up. "No judgment." 

He handed me his phone. I called; they said it would be an hour and a half wait. Fuck. Sunday late evening. Crap.

"Listen, Leah," Drew said. "The first Labor Day planning committee meeting is here, tomorrow. You work from home right? Why don't I give you a ride home? I can pick you up tomorrow, and we can deal with it then. We can call it in, have the meeting, and when we're done the tow will be here."

I nodded. 

We laughed more on the ride back to my apartment than I had in the past year. Drew and I had an ease of conversation I've never had, not even with my Dom. 

Drew was an EMT. I got instinctively that he tried to make up for not being able to save his wife by saving others. I also understood that he liked the excitement. I liked that he liked the excitement. I wanted excitement, too.

He dropped me off, promised to pick me up at six p.m. tomorrow, and motored out of sight. 

I stood in the parking lot for a minute, staring down the road where his car had been, like a puppy straining at its leash, leaning forward, panting for its owner to come back. 

It took me a while to get my key into the lock and open the door to my apartment. I kept replaying him saying, 'I have a feeling it's been one hard summer for you.'. I felt like we had some sort of mystical connection, and it gave me a warm, fuzzy feeling that spaced me out enough that it took me three tries to unlock my door.

For some strange reason (cough) my evening was relaxed. I only woke up once during the night, and I felt refreshed in the morning. It was like meeting Drew helped heal something.

The day passed, and I found my mind drifting to Drew more often than not. I was anticipating six o'clock long before lunchtime. It had been months since I had anticipated anything.

As soon as I opened my door that delicious zing of excitement ran from my head to my toes. I realized I never felt that before.

I gave him my biggest smile and a sharp salute.

"Ready for volunteer duty," I said.

"Great," he said, stepping back so I'd have room to walk past him, "Let's get to it."

The air had cooled down somewhat. A bunch of teenagers ran by us, wearing tiny bikinis, carrying lawn chairs, and letting their red, white, and blue beach towels flap out behind them like flags.

"You'll like everyone else on the team," Drew said when we got in his car. "Like I said, we have a lot to do and only a few more weeks to get ready."

I was embarrassed to admit it, but I didn't even know exactly when Labor Day was.

"Ahhhh, I've pretty much been in my own world lately."

"Understandable," he said. "This will bring you out of it somewhat. Now I also have you arranging and finalizing performers and lecturers for the festival. Kathy was doing it, but she went into early labor, no pun intended, so now I'm counting on you."

I nodded. "Yes, Sir," I said comically and gave him another snappy salute. That wasn't the way I wanted to be saying yes sir to him, but it would have to do for now.

He gave a soft chuckle.

"I've got all the stuff you need in a folder here." He glanced down to the console between us, and I saw an orange folder. "You'll need to fill a few holes in the schedule."

The meeting went by quickly. I took care of my car. Something about just meeting Drew had made mundane tasks seem okay.

I worked on the Labor Day Festival plans every day. I frequently needed to call Drew to ask about details. Pretty soon I was looking forward to the calls, making up reasons for longer and longer conversations, soaking up details about his life like an avid stamp collector gathers pretty postage squares. 

Each time I called, that miraculous connection I felt between us grew stronger. It was like tasting a fabulous dish, that as you ate each bite only got better and better.

I looked forward to the twice-a-week Labor Day volunteer meetings more than I could remember looking forward to anything in a long time, maybe ever. 

Drew and I fell into a pattern of standing by my car after each meeting and talking for a while. The topics stayed light: movies, music, favorite TV shows. Drew liked Big Bang Theory. He was an avid Star Trek and Star Wars fan and loved animated films. He declared, with unabashed verve, that Toy Story was the best.

We both agreed that it was a terrible summer for the pop charts. Drew made me laugh by doing rousing parodies and perfect imitations of Taylor Swift, Jason Derulo, Bruno Mars, Nikki Minaj (complete with butt wiggle), and other summer releases we played on our phones. The same five or six artists kept churning out hits that sounded suspiciously like what they released last summer and the summer before.

I was falling more and more for Drew. I thought he liked me. The problem was he wasn't making any moves. I wasn't the make-the-first-move type. I had been a submissive for so long I was used to it. Maybe I was naturally submissive. 

I didn't know how to bridge the gap between just friends and what I really wanted. I was afraid Labor Day would come and go, my volunteer tour of duty would be over, and I would never see him again. I wanted to do something. But what?

I decided that maybe the best way to broach the subject was just to come out and say it. I practiced what I was going to say. 'Drew, I'd like you to be my dominant. Drew, I want you to be my dominant; I'd love you to be my dominant.' Not exactly flowery, and it had a lot of potential for rejection, but it was straight to the point.

On the phone wouldn't be good, so I decided the best time would be after one of the festival planning meetings, during the usual conversation time Drew and I had after the meeting, in the parking lot. 

It was the first Tuesday in August, the first meeting in August, and I decided that was as good a day as any. Gulp.

I sweated enough during the meeting that I imagined putting buckets underneath me to catch the overflow. Maybe we could take my sweat to a desalinization plant and solve the late August summer drought. I felt like all my art pencils were lodged in my throat.

The meeting dragged on, and everyone's voices began to sound far away, as if they were underwater. I wanted to wipe my armpits. Despite chill from the loud air conditioner, I felt hot. My skin was clammy, my palms damp, my mouth dry. I guess I should be used to that. It only got worse when Drew and I went to stand by my car for our after-meeting talk.

"Leah, you okay?" Drew asked me.

"Ah, yes, it's just I...."

"What?"

I looked down at the pavement, overcome by nerves. My heart was racing. "I want you...." I said, but then I stalled out.

"Oh, God, Leah," he said. "I want you, too." He reached out and caressed my cheek, slid his hand to the back of neck, pulled me close, and kissed me.

I immediately got lost in the kiss. His tongue danced with mine so sweetly, and his left hand pressed firmly into my lower back. My body heated, and my nipples tightened. I sighed into his mouth.

"I wanted to do that for a long time," he said when he broke away for air.

I was all relaxed from the kiss. It was like being drugged in the best way. I remembered my Dom once saying you should start as you plan to finish. "I was going to say, I want you to be my Dom," I said.

He took a step back. "Like...."

I waited.

"Dominance and submissive?" He sounded very unsure, and maybe a little repulsed. BDSM?" 

I nodded.

"Leah, I don't know anything about that."

I felt like my heart collapsed.

There was a pause—barely a second—where I thought of all those nightmares I'd been having, and waited to be rejected.

"But if it's something you want, I'm willing to learn, and if it's something you need, I'm willing to try," Drew said.

I smiled at him. Looked like it was going to be a good day after all.

*

The next night Drew took me out to a fancy restaurant, and followed it with a silly movie called Pixels, where aliens attack using a big Pixelated Pac Man. I thought I'd hate it, but I laughed my ass off. Even though it was our first date, I thought it might be pretty indicative of who Drew really was, deeply romantic and joyfully silly. 

Drew's schedule rotated. The next week he had the evenings off, and he planned a date for us every night. On every date he held my hand, or gently ran his fingers up the tender skin on the inside of my forearm. 

The next week he switched to night shifts, leaving days and evening free for dates. He planned a museum trip, lunch at a burger joint, and hikes that included picnics by the lake, and two sunset walks on the beach. One day when he came to pick me up he brought me a big sunflower. Yeah, it sounded like a hokey personal ad, but I loved it. Coming from being a teenager on the streets, to my Dom's strict ways, all this wooing was new to me. I was captivated by each little gesture. 

Drew was holding my hand as we walked a bike path in the park when he said, "I haven't forgotten what we talked about."

I didn't need to ask what he was referring to, even though we had had many general conversations since, and none about... you know.

"I've been doing research. I want to make sure I get everything right for you. Start out well, continue well. I want it to be everything you want it to be. Something that will last."

I got goose bumps. A dominant and a nice guy? I hadn't thought such things existed.

"I guess good things come to people who volunteer," I said.

He made a 'that's sickening' gagging noise in his throat. "Good things come to good little submissives who follow directions."

I smiled, and then bit my bottom lip. I saw a lot of hope for this.

After that conversation there wasn't any other mention of things to come.

I spent the next days in a delicious juxtaposition of enjoying the quiet romance and fighting the building tension and anticipation of what he might do. 

In my mind I thought that Labor Day might be a culmination of the waiting, a jumping board starting point, although I didn't know why. 

When the morning of Labor Day, September 7th, came, I was nervous, excited, and anxious. My skin was clammy, and my fingers were cold. I could wrap them around my water glass and keep it cool all year and back to next summer again. I reminded myself that a submissive's job was to trust.

But as I stood in front of my closet I found myself having a slight anxiety attack over what to wear. I was used to my Dom making so many of my decisions for me that when it came to a big day, even for a festival, I was staring at too many choices, hoping to get the exact outfit to best please Drew. I decided to call him.

"Hi, Drew," I said. I heard my voice falter. I wondered if calling him was a good idea. "I'm not sure what to wear? I was calling to see if you had a preference? A suggestion?"

I could hear the change in his breathing; it was like there was a snap in the air that caused a change in the temperature. When he spoke his voice was firm to the point of demanding. "You're going to wear a red push-up bra, a red thong, your best jeans, and the loosest shirt you have." His voice got even harsher, lower in tone, quieter. "Say, 'Yes, Sir.'"

"Yes, Sir," I said.

"Good." He hung up.

Yikes.

I dressed with care, taking extra time on my hair and make-up. I had a red bra and panty set I had never worn that fit the bill. I wasn't sure about the loosest shirt. The biggest shirt I had was actually a white shirt with a cartoon cat on it that I wore as a nightshirt. I decided to wear it with a little scrunchi hair band tied at the hip in one corner, 80's style.

I met Drew at the volunteer's tent. He raked his eyes up and down my body, from head to toe and back again, his gaze predatory. I thought he had x-ray vision from how he smiled. "Nice," he whispered in my ear when he came in close. The way he said that one word, with an edge to it, like he was saying, 'Oh fuck yeah', made me catch my breath.

I was surprised how much that one compliment made me glow inside. I had missed this so much.

The festival started on time. The turnout was huge, and everyone was enjoying themselves. Pretty soon the park was packed, and it was time for all the entertainers and educators I booked, one after another. Drew found a place for us in the crowd. He pulled me in front of him, and wrapped his arms around my waist. He moved a little bit, until he was leaning against a big oak tree. 

I got caught up in the excitement of the crowd, the great feeling of Drew's chest, warm against my back, and how great he smelled, some subtle cologne I couldn't identify and his own unique scent that made me feel so bonded to him. We enjoyed the casual feel and the joy of the day, and listened to band after band, and a lecturer. The final performer took the stage, a magician who was both informative and attention grabbing with his messages. 

Drew slipped the elastic hairband off the lower corner of my shirt. His hand slid up to my stomach.

"So," he whispered in my ear, his voice deep, "you'd like it if I tell you what to do, and how to do it."

I blinked, the sudden change of pace shocking my brain into a new mode I hadn't expected. Without me giving it any conscious direction to, my head seemed to move on its own, and I nodded, ever so slightly.

He caressed a circle on my belly. "And you want me to tie you down when I make love to you, fuck you."

I wasn't sure if that was a question, or if that needed a response, but I nodded again, just the tiniest movement. 

Drew opened the top snap of my jeans.

"And excite you in public places."

Oh my God.

"Nod for me, Leah."

I nodded.

"Good girl," he growled softly. At those words I got wet. His hand slid lower. I was suddenly aware of all the people crushed around us, the sunshine, the sound of the microphone's occasional feedback as the magician talked about the "magic" of the laborers getting together in 1882 for social change.

Drew's hand dipped lower.

"Blindfold you."

Oh fuck.

"Put a gag in your mouth when I fuck you so hard I make you scream," Drew whispered in my ear. His fingers gently pushed my panties out of the way and caressed my folds. My temperature spiked.

"Use a spreader bar when I take you from behind." Drew found my clitoris and gave it a quick flick. I jerked. Drew wrapped his other arm around me and tightened his hold. "Don't moooovvve, Leah." Pause. "Or I'm going to—" Pause. "Punish you."

My eyes fluttered closed to half-mast.




Risk Your Heart



"I'm going to find out what you like, and make you do what I like."

Something happened in my brain. Synapses snapping and popping like fireworks maybe. Then everything around me faded away.

"Take care of you, and take you to subspace."

Holy crap, he knew what subspace was.

He found my clit again and started making slow circles around it.

"Share you. With whoever I want, male or female, if I feel like it."

My eyes closed all the way and my ears burned red. I didn't know how I felt about that.

"Take a rose petal, or a feather, or an ice cube, or hot wax—"

I couldn't hear the rest for the thundering in my ears.

"Have you come when I tell you to—here—in the park."

Then he worked me, and it was all I could do to bite my bottom lip and not make noise, not move, not let the excitement of being found out throw me over the edge.

I was desperate with the need to come, my honey soaking his hand, my mind in a zone where only pleasure existed. I didn't think the pleasure could ratchet any higher, but he moved his fingers just a little bit over to the right, and I teetered on the precipice. I had to fight not to break apart as his hands seared me into an amazing hedonism that had every nerve singing. Finally being completely still was impossible, and I started to shake.

"You may come now, Leah," he whispered in my ear.

More pleasure than I could possibly imagine blazed through me, like an untamed star expanding everywhere with satiety and safety and joy. 

Lighting shot through my body, and I soared up into the sunny sky. 

Then there was a moment where I hovered above my body. I was weightless, a spirit looking down on all the people crammed together in the park. Then there was a sharp buzz and a pop, and as if I was a kite yanked down hard by it's string, I plummeted down and slammed back into my body.

I felt alive! Every cell tingled. Drew's arms were still around me. His lips grazed my ear. The magician's show ended and he said, "Let's give a hand to all of the performers today and all of the staff and volunteers who make this event possible." The park was suddenly filled with noise, all those hands smacking together as they clapped and the joyous shouts as they cheered. 

All the colors seemed more vibrant. Many of the kids were wearing bright yellow T-shirts with the Despicable Me Minions' thick goggles (both one-eyed and glasses style) leering out from their tiny chests. Women were wearing sparkling white slacks and jeans, getting their last white before Labor Day fashion sense in. The smell of burning hot dogs and juicy hamburgers wafted over me.

I slumped back against Drew.

"Did that do you, Tonto?" Drew asked.

I nodded.

"My work here is done," he said.

He said it like a movie quote. I had a vague thought that maybe he had called me Tonto because he was quoting The Lone Ranger, but that was far before my time, and my head was swimming with endorphins, like a minnow in a barrel of beer, so I just let a stupid smile spread on my face as people exited around us.

I tilted my face up to the sun. I felt boneless. Thank God Drew still held me, or I might have sunk to the ground.

"Is that what you needed?" Drew whispered in my ear a few minutes later when most of the park had cleared out. 

I was too toasted to answer. 

"Are you all right?" Drew asked, sounding very concerned when I didn't answer, not realizing that it was because I was still too satiated to speak.

I nodded, and I nodded again.

"I hate to do this to you, Princess Leia, but I'm part of the clean up crew."

I groaned.

"I'll walk you to your car," he said.

"Can you carry me?" I squeaked.

He laughed. 

"Maybe I can just fly there," I said. "I feel like I'm still flying."

"That wasn't flying, that was falling with style."

I had no idea what he meant, maybe because my brain wasn't firing on all cylinders. I twisted around to look at him.

"You know," he said. "From Toy Story."

"I never saw Toy Story," I said.

"You never saw Toy Story!"

I shook my head.

"You're deprived," Drew said. "Stick with me kid. I'll right the ills in your sorely lacking experience. I can't believe you've made it to twenty-six without seeing Toy Story."

"Almost twenty-seven. I made it to this ripe old age without seeing Toy Story, or getting diddled in a public place, before today that is."

"You saw Toy Story today?"

"Very funny."

"Come on, sweetheart. I'll walk you to your car. Before I get tempted to give you a pre-birthday present and diddle you in a public place twice."

I put a hand over the warm spot in my chest. Drew. He was funny, and kind, and sexy, and now I knew he could be dominating and hot as hell. He could give me everything I needed.

Happy Labor Day to me.

*

Drew might not have known how to be a Dominant before the Labor Day EXPERIENCE but he sure got it down now.

I was just finishing my work for the day the next afternoon when my phone rang. It was him.

"Come down to my office. NOW." He hung up.

Wait, what? That doesn't make sense. He didn't even have an office.

I heard a siren wail briefly, so close it almost sounded as if the sound came from right below me. 

I jumped up, ran to the window, and looked out. There was an ambulance parked outside.

Oh shit. I ran to the bedroom thinking I'd change out of my sweats and into something nice. 

I thought about the forcefulness with which Drew said 'Now'. 

Oh God. I turned around, so I ended up just running around in a circle in my living room. 

"Okay, okay," I said out loud. "Ah... keys."

I grabbed my keys and ran downstairs.

I ran to the ambulance, and up to the passenger side. I had to stand on tiptoe to look through the window. Empty. 

Huh. Could I have the wrong ambulance? There was only one. That was a relief. It would be really embarrassing if an ambulance came for a medical emergency, and I had to explain I was standing next to it panting for no reason. 

I looked around. I went to the back of the ambulance. I knocked on the double doors. One of them opened.

"In." Drew said it firmly. His expression was all hard lines, serious business, and raw power. 

I hopped up into the ambulance. Fast.

Drew closed the door behind me, shutting us in. He had put his hand firmly on the inside of my upper arm to help me get in the ambulance, and once I was up and in he didn't let go. He used my momentum to pull me forward. I crashed against his side. Drew pushed me down on the cot. 

Faster than my brain could follow he had me on my back. He straddled me and yanked my hands above my head, holding both wrists together firmly in one hand while he did something with the other. I twisted around to look up at my wrists. He was binding them together, quickly, with thick gauze, and wrapping the gauze around a metal bar, some sort of stability handle I guess. 

"Wha¬—?" Is all I managed to get out before he shot me stern look that said, 'Shut up and get ready.' It was happening too fast for me to process.

Drew pulled the gauze tighter, and my wrists jerked closer to the bar. The back of my fingers just barely touched it; it was cold. 

I heard a rip, and then another one. The gauze? I had been watching my wrists, but now I stared at Drew. His face was intense. Is this what he looks like when he is working on someone who is hurt, giving them emergency care that might mean the difference between life and death?

Drew wrapped the gauze around my head, over my eyes, creating a blindfold. There's a slightly rough pattern to the threads of the fabric. When I opened my eyes behind the bandage, it was like seeing through a tightly woven grid of spider webs, or perfectly square lace. Everything had a white haze over it. I was able to see movement. Drew was industriously moving around, but his shape is a blur, his face obscured.

"Do you trust me?" Drew asked. His voice was low, husky, raspy. It was filled with the power I saw in his expression when he opened the door for me, but filled with something else, also. 

Unbridled lust.

The answer to his question was on my lips, an automatic yes. I mean, obviously I trusted him. 

But then Drew yanked the side of my shirt up and I felt something cold and sharp scrape my skin.

Fear, a shrill electric bolt of it, zapped up from my side to my heart. My heart started beating double time, and then triple, as if it were a galloping horse that could run away and burst out of my body.

That was a knife. My God, a knife. Or...or...a scalpel.

I started to breathe loud, short pants, just this side of hyperventilating.

Drew grabbed my chin with one hand. "Leah," he said firmly. If ever there was a dominant voice, that was it. It was so deep, so in control, so calm, that I calmed immediately.

He repeated his question. "Do. You. Trust. Me."

Whatever sharp instrument of destruction he had had against the side of my waist had disappeared.

"Ye-ye-yes," I stuttered.

"Not good enough," he whispered. The whisper seemed very loud in the small confines of the ambulance, almost like a shout.

Drew let go of my chin. He speared one hand through my hair and made a fist, twisting my long strands around his fingers. He used his grasp on my hair like a handle to gently pull my head back; I had no choice but to go with the motion. The delicate tug on the roots of my hair did something strange to me. The low-level anxiety I live with every day was always buzzing around, like the mechanical noises in your house you learn to ignore. With Drew's hand fisted in my hair, my neck arched back and exposed, my whole body slightly off balance, blindfolded but still able to see somewhat, and tied up to a metal bar, that constant jagged humming of 'not right' in my skin stopped—silenced—and something deep inside me unfurled, relaxed. 

I remembered once seeing a TV special about a beekeeper who blew pot smoke into the hive to chill the bees out before collecting honey. The honeybees lay back in a contented stupor.

I was like that. I knew Drew was there, the ambulance was there, my body was there. But this time when he put whatever it was—a dagger?—against the side of my skin and slid it up from my waist to my rib cage to the band at the bottom of my bra and over the cup to tease my nipple through the thin cotton fabric of my bra, all I felt was pleasure. All I could hear was the quiet, steady beat of my own heart pumping, and the delicate white noise of comfort I had slipped into, and then the silence, complete and absolute, of acceptance. 

I floated. 

Subspace. 

I heard Drew's voice, as if from far away.

"Picture you're laying on a beach, on a big, blue blanket. The sand is the whitest, finest, purest sand you've ever seen. You can hear the waves, lapping onto shore. You can smell coconuts, and coconut oil.

"The sun is beginning to set, and streaks of magenta and gold are resting in the sky." Drew's voice got even quieter, and his words slower. "Your wrists are tied to the bottom of a palm tree. It's just the two of us."

Slowly, as if Drew was luxuriating in the texture of my skin, he stroked the tips of his fingers up the inside of my arm. 

"So soft," he whispered reverently. 

Drew's hand was warm, and his fingertips were rough, like he had had super glue on parts of the tips but some of it had worn off. He grazed the back of his knuckles lightly over my hands, and traced his fingers down my other arm, moving painstakingly slow, circling in through the armpit of my T-shirt before reversing direction and caressing up again.

"You feel a warm breeze come off the ocean and dance over your skin."

I felt the wind, holding all the warmth of summer, blow gently over my neck and upper chest. I felt the ocean air.

Maybe that was Drew's breath. He was so close.

Drew lifted my hair off my neck, and it tickled me as he moved it to the side to plant slow kisses from my ear down to my collarbone.

Drew pushed my shirt way up, and twisted it around the gauze around my wrists, so it formed another layer to the makeshift handcuffs.

I heard a quick snip, and my bra parted halves a little bit at the center. That's what that blade he'd so gently edged along my skin was. It wasn't a scalpel, or a knife, or a dagger. It was scissors. Probably the kind EMTs used to cut clothes off.

"I trust you," I whispered.

Drew very gently, very sensuously peeled the halves of my bra open, grazing his knuckles over the sensitive sides and tips of my breasts as he went.

"Do you know what I'm going to do to you now?" Drew asked me.

I shook my head.

"I'm going to make love to you on this beach, sweetie. In this public place, where anyone could come by and find us, but no one will. I'm going to make love to you, slowly, gently, then harder and faster, until your whole body is shaking with the intensity of it."

Drew ran his hand possessively over my stomach. He traced one finger along the elastic waistband of my sweats, playing with it, before slipping underneath. He nipped my hipbone with a quick bite, surprising me, and making me buck off the bed.

"I'm going to make love to you, right here, with you tied up, over and over and over again," Drew said. He pulled my sweats and underwear off. "I'm going to make love to you until you can feel my love for you, and know it is as real, and as tangible, as anything on this planet."

Drew settled his body weight on top of mine. I could feel the sand beneath me shift slightly. I forced part of my mind to record everything, or at least try to record everything, he did. I knew I would want to remember every little detail, to replay each action Drew was doing to me when I could think, which there was no way I could do now. Sheer pleasure washed over me so strongly, it was like I was one big raw nerve of sensation. Amazing, fantastic, hot, sticky, wildly shaking sensation.

* It was dark when Drew gently brought me back from the beach, and I found myself in the ambulance again.

"I think you really will need to carry me home this time," I joked.

To my surprise he picked me up in his arms, cradled to his chest, and carried me all the way up two flights of stairs and back to my apartment. He set me down in front of my door. 

I surprised myself, when after I put the key in the lock, I looked over my shoulder at him and found myself saying, "Stay?"

He shook his head slightly. "I have to return the ambulance, baby."

My whole body slumped forward, and I must have looked crestfallen.

Drew put his hand under my chin. "But I can come back. If you want?"

My smile was bright enough to light up the entire hallway.

****

I hadn't slept with anyone in over a year, and I expected it to be weird. I lay on my side, and Drew wrapped his body around me. It was an absolutely perfect fit, with every line of the back of my body snuggly settling into his, like puzzle pieces cut from the same jigsaw. My ass nestled against his groin, apparently spent from the scene in the ambulance. His arm curled around me, and his large hand settled on my breast, holding it completely, safe and warm.

Within what seemed like less time than it took me to fluff my pillow, I heard him snore softly. I smiled slightly. Somehow the sound was comforting, oddly reassuring, and in a few seconds, I followed him into dreamland, happily replaying him slowly kissing his way down my hip and leg in the ambulance, and not so slowly working his way back up.

Before I knew it I was deeply asleep. It was the most peaceful sleep I'd had since I was a little kid. 

*

I woke up to the smells of bacon, eggs, and fresh coffee, which was confusing, because I wasn't cooking, and I lived alone.

Drew.

I rolled over, but the spot on the bed behind me was cool, so he must have been up a while. 

Drew.

I flashed back to the scene in the ambulance. His strong, large hand, low on my pubic bone, pressing firmly, while he held me down. I couldn't help thrashing up against him while he did wicked things with his tongue.

God that was hot.

A huge smile spread across my face. I jumped out of bed.

Public fingering, bondage in an ambulance that felt like I was at a beach. Damn. I felt like a kid in a candy store, but better. I actually rubbed my hands together.

I was still rubbing my palms together, like some cartoon villain, or a truly demented pervert, when Drew came in carrying a tray with a really great breakfast on it.

"What are you thinking, looking so devious yet so delectable?"

I stopped mid-hand rub and looked down at myself. Naked.

Damn.

Busted.

"Uh..." I said.

Drew smiled, a huge, brilliant, pearly white, you-could-reflect-beams-from-outer-space smile. 

"I'm thinking I need to wash my hands before breakfast?" I asked lamely.

"That's not what your expression said."

I sighed. "Okay. I was thinking that meeting you was amazing. Labor Day was incredible—"

"That fair was pretty killer," Drew interrupted me.

Wise-ass. I continued as if he hadn't spoken. "Yesterday was mind-blowing. I'm beginning to think of each moment with you as a miraculous scene of its own. I can't wait to see what you will do next. 

"I think you have officially given me the best summer ever," I said, and stared at him, my gaze softening. "And for the rest of my life, I'm always going to have a really soft spot for ambulances."

If possible his smile got even bigger. "I don't know why, they're loud, sterile, and occasionally bloody. It's secluded romantic beaches you should have the hots for." He lifted the tray he was holding an extra inch. "I made you breakfast in bed. You're not in bed." He raised his voice. "Get in bed, slave. NOW!"

I hopped into bed, and dove under the covers. I pulled the sheets up over my breasts. He narrowed his eyes slightly.

Drew stalked over like a fierce predator. There's no other way to describe it. "Lower the sheets, little slave," he demanded. "Let me see those beautiful breasts of yours. Our day is just beginning."

A rush of heat soared down into my core, and when he put one knee on the mattress next to me, I got even hotter.

"First, I feed you breakfast," Drew said, and if the lust in his eyes got any hotter I was going to spontaneously combust. "And then," he said, very, very slowly, so I wouldn't miss the double entendre, "you, are going to feed me."

*

We spent most of the day in bed. We alternated between having sex, napping, and eating Chinese food that Drew ordered and had delivered, so that we didn't have to leave the apartment. He answered the door to get and pay for the Chinese food, wearing my big, fuzzy, pink terry cloth bathrobe, which sent me into a fit of laughter that only ended when he tackled me and threatened to tie me down.

 I will NOT fall in love with this guy. 

It was almost five in the afternoon when Drew decided it was time for us to get dressed and venture out of the apartment.

I followed the order blindly. It felt so good, to have someone make decisions for me again. It relieved some of the pressure. Back when I was with Nick, I used to work at a graphic arts firm where I had to go into an office every day. Nick used to set out my clothes for me in the morning before he left for work, and set out whatever leather, strapped piece of basically nothing, and high-heeled shoes he wanted me in when he got home.

It sounds weird now, but at the time, it was my anchor, an oasis of calm in what probably would have been a terrifying minefield of my own inner mind if I didn't have that calm ritual to guide me. I used to change into whatever sub outfit he set out for me, and kneel, head bowed, until he got home, whatever the hour.

Boy, was Drew different.

When Drew said we were going out, it hardly sounded like a command, more of a suggestion really. I just followed it, but I was aware of how happy it made me. It's hard being alone. I'd been working from home, ordering everything I needed from the Internet, making all the decisions, even the little ones, by myself.




Risk Your Heart



I dressed in my best jeans and a nicely fitted blue T-shirt, and followed him down to his car. It was nice not to have to drive, too. I was beginning to hate driving.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"It's a surprise," Drew said. "I thought I'd get you something special."

"Hhhm," I said. Inside I could feel my heart glow. When's the last time I got a surprise, or a gift? I couldn't remember.

I recognized all the roads we were on. Then we turned on some roads we didn't know, and after a minute or two we were driving on a road lined with really dense trees, and I realized we were approaching the church where I first met Drew.

Was he taking me back to the church where we first met? That was kind of romantic.

"We're going to church?" I asked.

"Huh?" Drew glanced over at me, and then back at the road. "No."

I looked at him. His brown hair had grown longer, so the back was curling under, a little further down his neck.

We took a right turn, and then another, and then headed into a strip plaza I didn't know was there.

"Close your eyes," he said.

I followed directions.

I felt the car slow, and then Drew was parking, and then the car stopped. I heard Drew get out. I heard my car door open, and Drew helped me down. I kept my eyes closed. Drew led me a few steps, across the parking lot, I assumed, and up onto the sidewalk. 

"Open your eyes," Drew said.

I did. I was looking into a store window, at an easel and art supplies.

I felt a little seizure in my chest. I didn't know why.

Drew grabbed me by the elbow.

"Come on," he said excitedly.

He dragged me into the store.

"Surprise!" Drew said. "You're at that computer all the time. I noticed you didn't have any painting supplies in your apartment, but you said you loved art. I figured I'd buy you whatever you want. Paints, charcoals, pastels, hell, even photography equipment if you'd like. Then if you wanted, when we go hiking you could bring some stuff and paint by the lake while we picnic or—"

He broke off mid-sentence.

I was wandering around.

I was sure all the blood had drained from my face. I put a hand up to my cheek. It was cool, dead cool. I had a feeling it was gray and ashen.

"Leah?" 

Drew's voice sounded very far away, under water, tinny. Part of me, the part that was still functioning normally could tell it sounded concerned.

I walked the aisles.

Fabrics. Wood cut-outs. Sparkles. Candle-making supplies. Scrapbooking papers. Ribbons. Beads. Markers. Pencils... Paints.

My mind went blank.

Paints. Paint brushes.

I began to hyperventilate. I couldn't breathe.

The men. The ones with the white hockey masks. I couldn't see. 

I stopped breathing completely. I was choking. I grabbed my throat.

There was an elephant sitting on my chest. A heavy, heavy elephant.

My knees felt wobbly. Gelatin-like. Liquid.

I bent over at the waist.

I felt a hard smack on my back, real or imagined, and I took in a deep breath.

I started shaking.

My heart started racing. Like I had had too much coffee. The beat got faster and faster, like a sewing machine racing out of control, until the needle was tattooing a beat on my heart that was too fast to follow.

A big fist clamped down on my heart, squeezing it.

I floated above my body, watching it. The trembling got worse.

"Leah?!"

I think Drew's hand was on my back, but I couldn't be sure. I wasn't even sure where I was.

Suddenly I felt sick to my stomach. Acid and bile combined, in a red, biting, caustic, ball of stomach churning heartburn. It heaved up from my stomach, to my chest, into my esophagus, and I put a hand over my heart to keep it from spilling out.

From far away I heard myself talking, and belatedly realized that maybe I said the worst possible thing. 

"I need a Tums."

"LEAH!"

As if it were operated completely by someone else, as if I were a marionette, and someone else was pulling my strings, my head and neck turned toward Drew. Like a video camera with no one behind it, my eyes recorded his presence.

"Leah," Drew said in a very calm voice. "Do you have any pain in your chest? Do you feel any tightness, heaviness, aching, or burning in your chest? Do you feel any pain radiating down into your arm?"

I didn't answer him.

He spoke louder. "Are you having any difficulty breathing? Are you having any pain in your back? Anywhere in your upper body? Feel like you're having heartburn?" His voice went up a lot at the end at that one.

Drew took his phone out of his pocket. He dialed with one hand and started taking my pulse with the other. Vaguely, as if from far away, I heard three tones, three numbers being pressed. 911.

"Yes," he said loudly into the phone. "I need an ambulance at...." He looked around, presumably searching for an address.

Part of me smiled at the word ambulance, but part of me also got it. He was calling an ambulance. I yanked my wrist out of his hand and tried to wave it in such a way to waive away his concern.

Drew was reciting the address into the phone.

"I just need a break," I said softly.

"Leah," he said very slowly, as if I were seriously retarded or very, very drunk, "You're having a heart attack."

I shook my head.

"This is EMT badge number 748-935-652412," Drew said, "I need that ambulance, at the art supply store, STAT—"

"I just need a break," I said a little louder. I stood up straight.

"Can I get an approximate ETA on that?" Drew asked.

"I just need a break," I yelled at the top of my lungs. I couldn't believe it. I never yelled. It was like something took over, and I couldn't control it. I threw my hands up in the air and walked out of the store.

I heard Drew cancel the ambulance, and I felt, rather than heard, his baffling sentiment, which seemed very far behind me. The minute I was out of the store I felt better. It was like whatever happened never was. I blinked in the bright sunlight. The day was warm. It reminded me of those movies where you walked through a door and you were in another dimension. I don't know where I had just been, but when I was on the sidewalk, everything was normal again.

I walked to Drew's car, and on automatic pulled at the passenger side door. Locked.

"You want to tell me what happened back there?" Drew said from behind me.

 No. 

"Back where?" I said.

"Get in the car," he said. I recognized that voice. My Dom used to use that. The voice that said, 'I am  NOT happy.' I'd never heard Drew use it before.

I felt like I should say something, but what? 

We were silent. It was the first time the silence was uncomfortable. 

Drew started the car and started driving. The car sounded loud. The silence stretched on. It was probably only a few seconds, but it seemed like more because the silence felt laden with cement.

I started to shake. The trembling started in my toes, and then quickly jerked up my body, as if I were having spasm fits in each muscle group in quick succession.

"Wh-wh-what's ha-hap- happening to me?"

"Adrenaline burn-off," Drew said.

I looked over at Drew. That one lock of hair was flopped over his forehead. His mouth was set in a grim line.

The shaking stopped as abruptly as it started.

"I'm sorry if I scared you," I said.

"How often do you get panic attacks?" he asked.

"Almost never," I said.

"You could have told me," he said.

"I was hoping it would never come up," I said.

Drew pulled off the road. I looked around. He had pulled into the church parking lot.

Oh. Full circle.

"Well, you did scare me, Leah. You scared the fuck out of me," he said loudly. "I love you, and I care for you, and I wish I had known, because then it might not have taken me quite so long to figure out what was happening."

I don't like being yelled at. I really don't like being yelled at. It's one of my things. Even though he wasn't exactly yelling, he wasn't yelling at all in fact, his raised voice triggered something in me and the fist started to close around my heart again. I could feel my breathing get shallow.

Drew's voice became very soothing. "It's all right, baby. It's just with my history with my wife, I wish I had known, is all, it's okay."

I nodded, but I was having some kind of reaction, and I couldn't slow my breathing down. I didn't want to have another attack. But worrying about not having another attack was making me more anxious. Sweat beads popped out on my forehead. I tried to take in a deep breath and hold it for the count of five, but I couldn't do it.

Suddenly I was freezing. I shivered.

"Okaaaaayyyyyy," Drew said. He hopped out of the car, around to my side, and firmly dragged me out. "In the church we go."

"Right," I said. I resisted the urge to giggle hysterically. Strangely, just walking from the car to the church calmed me. Oh, right. Physical exercise could calm people down. I forgot.

We went in the church, and Drew guided me into the same room where we first bumped into each other, fell on top of each other, fell for each other, or didn't in my case because I wouldn't let myself. Wait. Did he say he loved me? No. I must have imagined that. It's been a long day.

I walked over to the bulletin board. It looked the same. Babysitter needed. Chevy Impala for sale, cheap. The flyer for the Labor Day Fair was still up, peeking out under another flyer pinned on top of it. There was a flyer calling for volunteers for a kids' Halloween dance. Hard to believe that people were planning for Halloween already when it was still so hot out. My mind was still stuck on August. 

I was reeling. I thought about how Drew was with me in the ambulance, and I immediately calmed down. He'd talked me into the most romantic scene, where we both were transported to a tropical island, having sex outdoors on the beach. I glanced over my shoulder.

Drew was standing a few feet behind me, giving me some space.

I remembered how hot it was. The air on the beach was hot. Being tied up was hot. Having Drew, totally in control, dominating but not domineering, slowly kissing and nipping his way down my body...my temperature rose as I thought about it.

Perhaps Drew sensed a change in the air, because he came and stood closer to me, very close. He was close enough that I could feel heat radiating off him, and I pictured just a millimeter of space was between the front of his body and the back of mine.

"What are you thinking about, sweetheart?"

"That scene you built for us in the ambulance."

He laughed, one sharp bark. "That's not what I would have guessed," Drew said.

"I have to distract myself for a minute," I said.

Drew closed that last hair of space between us, pressing me to him tightly, and wrapped his arms around my waist. 

"Tell me about it," he said.

I slapped his hand lightly. "You were there, perv. You know what happened. You made it happen. You know how it was. You know what it was like."

"I want to know what it was like  for you. "

I was silent.

"Tell me about it," he said again, but in a deeper, more commanding voice. "That's an order."

I laughed softly.

"Well, let's see," I said quietly. "We were on the beach, and you were doing magical things with your tongue." I could feel my breath quicken, but in a totally different way this time. "I was as wet as the ocean, dripping."

Drew started caressing his thumb on that sensitive part of my hand, sort of the 'V' of my hand where my thumb met my forefinger. It was hypnotic.

"You kept licking, circling, teasing, driving me mad, and driving me wild. I think you knew what you were doing to me."

Suddenly I was back there, both in the ambulance and on the beach.

"Then you zeroed in, and found exactly that spot, and I bucked up against you, but you didn't let up."

My heart started beating faster, as if I were running, but it felt totally fine. I was soaring; it was exhilarating. 

"Mmmmn?" Drew said, when I stopped talking for a second, picturing myself pushing up against his mouth and also being held down by his strong hand.

"I came hard, and came again, but you didn't stop," I said. I heard a noise from Drew, close to my ear, a cross between a grunt and an affirmation. I felt him harden slightly against my backside.

"Part of me wanted you to stop, to do something else, I was so sensitive, swollen, everything seemed so...pink."

Drew's breathing was right in my ear now, his lips touching my hair, the pace of his breathing increasing.

"Part of me didn't want you to stop doing that, ever."

Drew made another 'Mmmmnnn,' sound, but it sounded totally different this time. His hand dropped from on top of my hand to my belly. It wasn't sexual, more possessive.

I stopped talking for a minute, and focused on taking a few deep breaths and letting my chest expand as much as possible. I opened my eyes and looked at the bulletin board. I didn't want to get  too  carried away. We were in a church. We had already ended up on the floor of this room once. I had a feeling if we ended up on the floor again it wouldn't be so PG.

"Go on," Drew said.

"Where was I?" I asked.

"I was rocking your world," Drew said.

I laughed. "Right." I closed my eyes again. "So I was feeling overly sensitive, and the sun was warming my skin, and I was wishing you would stop licking me and also wishing that amazing thing you were doing with your tongue would never end."

I felt Drew smile against my ear.

"Then you climbed up my body, and I wasn't sure exactly what you were going to do next, but I hoped. I wanted you inside of me so badly. 

"You leaned to one side, I had a brief thought for a second that maybe you were opening your pants and putting a condom on, but I couldn't be sure, all I heard was the ocean waves. I was sure you were going to thrust into me, one hard fast strike."

I paused. Drew pulled up my shirt a little, and rubbed a slow circle on my belly. It was calming, sensuous, caring. It was beautiful and lazy. His energy was taught, but the motion of his hand was distinctly non-sexual.

"Yes...." Drew prompted.

"Uhhhh...." I said. He nibbled my neck, very gently, very slowly. Drew was using my hair to lightly brush against my skin before carefully moving it out of the way. If he was trying to distract me from whatever had happened before he was doing a damn good job.

"Go on, little slave," Drew said.

"Right," I said. "I can do that. Because my addled brain is totally capable. Mmn. Sure. No problem. So. Um."

My neck lost some muscle function. Funny how you never think about the fact that the neck needs activated muscle fibers to hold itself up, until they decide to quit on you. My head thunked back onto Drew.

He made a masculine chuckle sound.

"Yeah, yeah," I said. "You're a Dom Sex God."

"My work here is done," he said.

I sighed. Wow. That was a contented sound.

"Go on," he said.

"Where was I?" I asked.

"You thought I was going to thrust into you," Drew said.

I nodded against him. "I tensed up a little, waiting, sure you were going to plunge into me. But you didn't. You kissed my collarbones. The top of my breasts." I got warm again, and then warmer. "My nipples." My nipples perked up a little hearing themselves referred to. "Then you made figure eights over my breasts with your palm. It was such a light touch. I was surprised I liked it so much, it was like..." I stopped. I had nothing to compare it to. I suddenly had a picture of a woman rolling out dough with a rolling pin, but that didn't make sense. "It was like...ah... I don't know, a soft kind of arousal, different, but so good. Like dropping into a soft cloud that is totally sexy."

I paused again, savoring.

Drew didn't prompt me to continue this time, he just waited, rubbing slow circles on my belly with one hand, and slow, small strokes on my hand with the other.

"Then you must have leaned on your elbows, I guess," I said. As I said it, I felt like I was entering subspace again, because I could feel the sands shift under me.

"And you entered me, but so slowly, and just the tiniest bit. It was agonizing, and also glorious."

I tilted my head up slightly, as I had done then, to feel the sun on my face even more.

"I was so wet, I was sure you'd slide all the way in immediately, but you didn't, so I knew you had to be using your strength to hold back. I told myself that shouldn't be sexy, that shouldn't be hot, but it was. The control, the patience. I wondered, what is he waiting for?"

My eyes fluttered as I felt the tip of him inside me, just as strongly as when it was actually happening.

"I was waiting for our connection to get even greater," Drew whispered in my ear, "for you to blossom for me."

"Oh," I said. The word sounded choked.

"Then what?" Drew asked.

"It seemed like an eternity. I wanted to spur you on, encourage you, but I didn't know what to do."

I felt Drew smile against my ear.

"I began to squeeze you. Squeeze and release, squeeze and release, squeeze and release. I used every bit of my concentration. Every time I tried to squeeze a little bit harder. I did it to encourage you, but then I realized I was turning myself on."

We both laughed quietly at that one.

"But still you didn't move," I said.

"Then I realized I wasn't being a very good little sub," I said. "I was being pushy. I said I trusted you, but that's not really letting you lead, so then I stopped."

"Exactly," Drew said. "That's when you relinquished control. You surrendered. And your whole body opened up. And that's when I slid into all that warm, wet, slick, heavenly goodness."

"Agonizingly slowly," I said.

Drew smiled again. "I didn't hear you complaining."

I opened my eyes, and twisted my head to look over my shoulder at him. "No, I was too busy moaning."

He wiggled his eyebrows. "Yeah?" he asked, and nipped my bottom lip.

"Oh, yeah. Then when you were buried to the hilt you paused, and I wanted to scream. But then you started to move, oh God, and it was all worth it."

I closed my eyes, and I was right back there. "It wasn't just a slow in and out, it was the circles, and the side to side, and the change of tilt, and angles. I just didn't know it could be like that."

I shuddered. 

I was beginning to worry I would come, standing up right there in the church. I opened my eyes again. 

"Maybe we should stop here," I said.

"Nope," Drew said.

"You're a sadist," I said.

"One of my better qualities."

I crossed my arms over my chest and refused to talk for a minute. Drew waited me out. He didn't push me, or cajole me, or force me.

When I had calmed down a little, I continued.

"It seemed to last a really long time at that pace. I pictured the sun setting, the bands in the sky that were pink and magenta fading to darker blue. I hit a sort of...zen place...where I just...yielded, I guess. Enjoyed completely. I was building and building an arousal. I had already come twice, and I don't come from intercourse, so I guess I didn't think I would come again, but then I realized I was sort of slowly climbing up arousal hill. Then, like a switch flipped, you changed into high gear. The vibe changed, and you were all hot and heavy, fast and forceful.

"It took me by surprise. The sex had been all slow, languorous love making, and suddenly it was fucking, hard. In and out, in and out, in and out. Pounding."

I think Drew was holding his breath, waiting to hear my reaction to that, although I'm sure he knew.

"It was fucking amazing," I said.

"The change was so fast, and intense, and volcanic, and surprising, that it threw me over the edge, and I came so hard I saw stars," I said. "I'm sure I screamed, and then you put your hand over my mouth to gag me.

"That reminded me that we weren't on a beach, we were in an ambulance, in the parking lot where people could hear me screaming if you didn't have your palm over my mouth like that. I didn't know which was sexier, being exposed on an isolated, romantic beach, where someone might come by and see us, or being at my apartment complex where people could hear us if we weren't careful.




Risk Your Heart



"Then I couldn't think about it, because I was coming, again. I couldn't believe it. Suddenly it seemed like I was everywhere at once, in the ambulance, on the beach, looking at myself from your point of view, in my body looking at you, even though I was blindfolded and couldn't see you. 

"Then I felt something weird."

I stopped there. I hadn't meant to tell him what happened next. It must have been being off kilter from before walking in the church that made me slip up.

"What?"

"Ah, nothing."

"Leah..."

"Well, I couldn't have actually seen anything, because I was still blindfolded, but I 'saw' a blue light, or a few lines of blue light actually, from you to me. Sort of felt them, warm and sparkly, connecting us. Just for a few seconds and then they were gone."

Drew nodded, as if that wasn't weird at all, as if he had heard of things like that before. 

I wanted to rush over that one, whatever that was.

"Then you collapsed on top of me, and talked me back from the beach, and my entire body felt like it was singing and melting into the cot at the same time. I'm not sure, but I think you carried me up to the apartment. The rest is history."

I focused on the bulletin board again, because I needed to calm down, and my underwear was wet, and I didn't want them to get any wetter. There was a dresser for sale.

"Hey, do you think that dresser would look good in my apartment?" I said.

"Nice try," Drew said. "Distraction time is over."

Huh?

Drew let go off me. He dragged two metal folding chairs into the middle of the room, which immediately reminded me of the first day we met.

"Sit," he said forcefully.

Ut-oh.

I sat.

"So," he said. "The thing about panic attacks, is that they rarely come out of nowhere."

"Can we not talk about this?"

"No."

Damn.

"They rarely come out of nowhere," Drew repeated. "Usually, they have a trigger. Was there something specific today that set you off?"

Oh, I felt some serious suckville coming on. Isn't this what I have Dr. Jeff for? Do I have to do this with my boyfriend?

"Would you like to tell me about what happened today?"

No, no, and hell no.

Drew just stared at me.

Well shit on a stick.

"Why don't you just start at the beginning?" Drew asked.

Pass.

"Baby," Drew said in a softer voice, and scootched his chair a little closer to mine. It made a high-pitched scratching sound on the linoleum. "Lots of people have panic attacks, or anxiety attacks, or whatever you want to call them. I get that. Being in a Dom/sub relationship can probably even be very reassuring, and help keep the frequency down, right?"

I stared at him and pursed my lips. I don't have to answer him. I gave a head motion that was half nod, and half so-so maybe.

"And, with my magical powers of intuition I'm getting that you really don't want to talk about this," Drew said.

I will not crack a smile.

"But the thing is, chances are, you will have another one, and because we're in a relationship, you might have another one while you are with me. And, because of my history, I'll probably assume you're having a heart attack, which will be awful for me. Then I'll assume that it's not a heart attack, that it's a panic attack, but considering they have almost identical symptoms there's no way for me to know for sure. So I'll assume that it's a panic attack"—his voice got softer—"but what if I'm wrong? What if you're wrong? What if there's no way to know until it's too late?"

I sighed.

"Sweetheart, I'm not asking you to do anything different right now. I'm just asking you to talk to me."

Double damn.

"I don't really like to talk," I said.

"Tough shit." It was the harshest I had ever heard him sound. I remembered the first day we met, something about cursing in church versus cursing in the parking lot and a slightly hysterical laugh threatened to bubble up.

"Baby, we're in a safe place." He gestured around the room. "You're with a safe guy." He gestured to himself. "You can tell me. Hey, I'm the assistant Deacon here. That's the same as the associate Deacon, the vice president Deacon, the honorary, 'You better fucking tell me Deacon'."

I stared at him.

"Sweetheart, I wouldn't push you if I didn't really need to know everything about them. When they started, how often. Everything you can tell me about what the panic attacks are like, I want to know. Can you tell me what triggered it today, please?" 

I looked off into the distance.

"I don't even know really," I said. But as soon as I said it, I did know. Shit.

I would have to approach this the long way around.

"You know, for some people there's a pivotal moment, a path taken, or not taken, like a choice to go to school, or not," I said.

"For some people, there's this one moment, a moment where something happens. Maybe it's something awful. Maybe it's something really awful. Maybe some people handle it well, like it's no big deal. But maybe for some people, it feels like the world ends. Maybe for some people it's somewhere in between."

Drew was silent, letting me get to the point, if there was one, in my own time.

"But maybe, maybe, for some people, something happens, and it creates this moment, this surreal, 'No, this can't be happening to me' moment, where their heart breaks. Where it explodes, or implodes, or just collapses. Or maybe it flakes off, or turns to dust, or falls apart.

"Maybe part of it stops beating. Maybe it is like a mini heart attack, because part of it dies, the tissue atrophying never to be good again. Maybe a thick wall, thicker than fortresses of old, forms instantly. Maybe, the whole psyche schisms, and someone new is created."

I knew I was stalling, talking in generalities, waxing poetic about something that was vague and not poetic at all. Protecting myself, again, as always.

"I think, for some people, there's one moment in a lifetime where they have an unbelievable, unexpected, devastating heartbreak, right?

"So, I mean, it would make sense, right, that when Nick died in a car accident a little over a year ago, that was the one moment when my heart broke, when I was no longer whole, and would never be."

I paused. Looked away from Drew again. Kept my eyes on the far wall this time. The tiles were a faded no-color color, but I thought they once might have been yellow.

"I think of myself as the girl with no past, really. I shut the door on it, like a basement that's unfinished that you never open, and eventually you almost forget it's there. Do you know what I mean?" 

"I know what you mean."

"Do you?" I asked. My voice went up a lot at the end.

"Mm-hm." 

I looked at him. He nodded, and I dared to hope.

Drew stared into my eyes, and I seemed to fall in. It was like slowly leaning off a dock and gently sliding into a cool lake. I waited for him to say something more, but he didn't say anything.

He just held my hand, and gave me that feeling that we were the only two people in the world. His expression told me that he was listening, not just to my words, but to what I wasn't saying, too. I don't know what or how, maybe he was listening to my emotions that I couldn't help from wafting out, and my body language maybe.

There was silence for a while, and it felt okay.

I had the distinct feeling if I wanted to say more, he would wait forever to hear it.

What the hell was that about? Who does that?

I took a deep breath, held it and counted to five, and let it out as slowly as I could, like Doc Jeff had taught me to do.

"Where was I?" I asked.

"You felt like you were no longer whole, and would never be," Drew said.

He remembered. "Wow, whoa, okay." I took another deep breath. "Okay, so I thought that was when my heart broke."

"Makes sense," Drew said.

"Do you ever feel like that? I mean still. Like there was that moment, that one moment in life where your whole life changed and your heart just...froze and shattered?"

"Frequently."

I wanted to ask him how did he go on, but I didn't.

I put my hand over my heart, as if that would keep it from falling apart, or falling out. Then I shook my head. I forced myself to put my hand down.

"Well, so I thought that was my moment. After that was when the..." I was going to say nightmares, but at the last minute I changed my mind. "The dreams started."

I thought he would ask what dreams, but he was silent, creating space for me to tell my story in my own way.

"Um, ah, so...the dreams were bad, I was freezing and running in the middle of summer, but my heart was never involved. I realized that wasn't when my heart broke, and it was partially because I hadn't given my whole heart in the first place."

I was quiet again. I wondered if he would condemn me. Would he think worse of me because I said that? That's not what I saw in his face.

I had to look up and away, because my eyes were beginning to tear up, and I didn't want any of the fat drops to spill over. Tears pooled, weighing against my bottom lashes like heavy dew threatening to fall off a curved, downward-sloped leaf.

"So then I thought my heart broke when I was twelve. It was a few days after my mom left, and the landlord came to the apartment. I realized my mom had been paying him in blow jobs, and I couldn't pay the rent."

I started to shake. Drew squeezed my hand harder.

Everyone has trauma, I reminded myself. Whether it's getting fired from a job, or wanting a divorce, everyone has something they want to escape from. I'm not going to feel sorry for myself.

"Hey, maybe that's why I think about sex so much."

"What?" Drew asked. "Wait, what?"

"I guess that was a quick change of topic. I meant to avoid thinking about all this," I said, and waved my hand vaguely through the air, as if to indicate all I had been talking about. Drew's expression kind of fell. It was so abrupt it was comical.

"Just checking to see if you were listening," I said, and then laughed.

"I'm listening," he said very seriously. Then he leaned in and kissed me. It was a very soft, tender kiss, more like a brushing of his lips against mine really. His lips seemed softer, warmer. It was the tenderest thing I had ever felt, and despite my resistance I felt my heart open a little.

"Where was I?" I asked.

"Sex." Drew said.

I laughed again.

"So I figured that moment, when the landlord came, and I realized I would be homeless, that was the moment my heart broke, that my whole life changed, that I would never, ever really trust anyone again unless I...." I stopped, not able to say it.

"Unless someone pretended to make you," Drew said. "Tied you up and told you to trust him, so you could pretend you had no choice to trust him, even if you really didn't, not a hundred percent."

"Damn you perceptive Assistant Deacon nice guys."

He smiled at me.

"But noooooooo," I said. "When you were so nice to me at the paint store, the reason I...the paint store triggered it. I don't want to talk about it. Well, I don't want to go into it too much. I want to tell you, but I don't want you to ask any questions, okay?"

Then I did start crying, I couldn't help myself. The heavy tears rolled down my cheeks, salty and hot. I could feel my face getting red and splotchy already, and I hadn't even started. I did the breathe in, hold, slow breathe out thing again.

"So, I realized that moment, the moment when my heart collapsed, was when I was nine, and my dad drove me to the art store to get supplies and said, 'Pick out whatever you want, I'll be back in a little while'...."

I rolled my lips together in a thin line and ducked my head. I couldn't finish the sentence.

Drew lunged across the space between us, picked me up, and pulled me into his lap. He held me tightly and rocked me, and like a tsunami that had been held back for so long finally broke loose with a vengeance, the dam broke, and I cried so hard I shook, the tears I had never let myself cry my whole life.

Drew rocked me back and forth, and made soft, sort of mmmmmnnn sounds, and whispered, "I got you, baby," over and over again.

I cried so hard, I think I left a puddle on the floor, which reminded me of the day I sweat so much it felt like I had sweat buckets, before I asked Drew out, right here onto the same grayish-beige linoleum. They won't need a janitor anymore, we can mop the floor with my body fluids. 

I must have been dehydrated, or high from the exertion, because for some reason that struck me as incredibly funny, and I started to laugh hysterically. I couldn't stop laughing. I sounded like a hyena.

"So you see, everyone I've ever loved, in my whole life, left me. My father left me, my mom left me, Nick left me. I can't do it again Drew, I just can't. If one more person abandons me, or leaves me, or dies, I think..." I began to hiccup loudly because I was having so much trouble breathing.

"Put your arms over your head," Drew said calmly.

I did, and the hiccups stopped. I was amazed.

"Putting your hands up is a cure for hiccups?"

"Only when they're caused by severe stress. That's when the hiccups are sharp, quick diaphragm contractions due to lack of equalized air pressure. When you raise your arms, you give your lungs more room to expand. It only works when the cause is you crunching down on your lungs in the first place."

I blinked. I wasn't processing. I had a moment of 'Where am I?'. All of a sudden I flashed back to the beginning of summer. I saw myself that day in June, in Dr. Jeff's office, and I could hear him say, "You're okay, Leah. Feel the couch under your thighs."

I looked down. I could feel the top of Drew's strong leg muscles under my thighs. I was sitting on his lap with my hands held high in the air.

"I feel kind of silly."

"Probably better than how you were feeling a minute ago," he said.

I belched up one last, really loud hiccup.

Slowly I brought my arms down.

"So I can't risk falling in love again, Drew. I just can't."

He rubbed my back, slow, calming movements up and down my spine. "That's okay, baby. I'll love you enough for both of us."

I broke into tears again.

*

Strangely, or not strangely, I had some backlash. A lot of backlash. Yesterday, when I was sitting on his lap, I felt like he got me. It felt like someone really "got" me, maybe for the first time ever, and I wanted to crawl closer and closer to that amazing, warm, comfortable intimacy. Today I didn't want to snuggle closer; I wanted to run away in the other direction.

I felt as raw as if I were a carrot that had been vigorously shredded with a sharp vegetable peeler. I didn't want to talk to Drew. Hell, I wasn't going to—wouldn't—talk to Drew. I was way too vulnerable. 

In the morning I kept sitting at my computer only to stand right back up again and walk—zombielike—in ever widening loops in the living room and then from room to room. Needless to say I didn't get any work done, but I tried, I really did.

Sometimes it's like I'm a different person with different people. Or, at least I used to be, before I started working from home. Once that started it was more like I wasn't anybody, maybe because I rarely interacted with anyone. 

I had been slowly fading away, further and further into my own castle of aloneness, if that's a word. I had a few similar, but not exactly the same personas, but not a true down-to-the-core, that's really me personality. 

In other words, I was an actress, stuck playing out a part, or parts, that I didn't write, or audition for, but couldn't seem to get out of either. It was like having layers of Kevlar instead of clothes, or clown paint instead of skin. The real me—if I even knew who that was—was buried too deeply to be seen by anyone. I doubted I could find it myself, even with a divining rod, a microscope, a bloodhound, and a private detective license.

Makes sense I guess, that I subconsciously wanted to keep everything under wraps.

I never, ever, told anyone what I told Drew. NEVER. I didn't even want to believe, or admit it was part of my past, much less tell anyone. It felt like I had ripped off a huge scab to reveal red, raw, body parts I couldn't identify. 

Drew called at noon. I let it go to voice mail, and I didn't check it. He called again later, but I didn't check that voice mail either.

I watched twelve episodes of Orange Is the New Black—almost the whole first season—a show I thought I'd never watch. I zoned out in front of the screen. I had the same vague feeling about my life as I did about the women's stories unfolding on TV; it's mildly interesting, but has nothing to do with me. 

I stopped when my eyeballs felt scratchy and burning from the strain.

I wished I could take back what I had said in front of Drew.

I wished I could take back him being so nice to me.

Before crawling into bed I thought about listening to my voicemail, but that seemed like too much work. I took a quick peek at my texts and there was a message from Drew that had come in early in the morning. He let me know there was an emergency with his sister. Drew had left town to take care of it. It might take all day.

Good. Maybe it would take weeks. Maybe months. Maybe I could change my phone number and move to another state. One where no one knew my past hadn't been perfect. Hell, forget perfect, discussable.

I crawled under the blankets, sure that the nightmares of men chasing me through frozen tundra would haunt me. Instead, I dreamed of the Labor Day festival, with its warm sunshine, happy crowd, and surprise orgasm.

I woke up early. The dreams of Drew holding me dissipated when I remembered what I'd said. I got even more twisted in the head when I realized that he didn't judge me or run away from me, when he found out about my past. In fact, he seemed to completely accept me, and like, or even love me, more. Somehow that was even scarier.

It was enough to send me crawling right back under the blankets. I didn't even eat my breakfast at the table; I went back to bed and I took my Pop-tarts into bed with me. Breakfast of champions.

"This must be the break-up version of breakfast in bed," I said to myself, and laughed until I cried.

I pictured myself, in the church, in his lap, saying 'I can't risk falling in love again, Drew. I just can't', and I wanted to cry even more.

I stayed in bed most of the day. I only got up to microwave some hot cocoa, which it was still way too hot for outside, but I had my air conditioning cranked up to the max.

Drew called three times, but I didn't answer. After the third time I turned my phone off.

My bed was an oasis of comfort. Which was a good thing, because I planned to spend the rest of my life in it.

At around seven p.m., hunger drove me out of my cocoon and into the kitchen. I was eating mac and cheese out of the pot when I heard a loud banging on my door. For some reason I was sure it was my landlord, the only one I know who knocks so forcefully, so I opened it without thinking.

Ut-oh. Not the landlord. Drew.

"Hello, hot stuff."

I looked down at myself. Stained, faded pink sweatshirt that I had been wearing for two days. Raggedy gray sweat pants. Uncombed, slept-in Don King hair. Holding a pot and a yellowy-orange elbow-shaped noodle laden spoon. Yep. I'm a knock-out. 

"Gug," I said.

He came in and kissed me on the cheek. "Good to see you too. Your cell service isn't working, so I thought I'd come in and check on you." He held up a bag in his right hand. "I brought Chinese." Then he held up his left hand, "And chocolate ice cream."

Okay. Maybe I couldn't fall in love with him, but I had to admit he had lovable qualities.

"I could go for some Chinese food," I said. I inhaled deeply and the smells of Szechwan beef and greasy egg rolls assaulted my nose in the very best way. I looked down at the glumpy mess in my pot. Yuck.




Risking It All



This is real story and I cannot believe that I was so stupid to take such a risk. It could be end of my career at best and jail term at worst.

*

This story goes back to 1986, did happen in then communist ruled Czech Republic and needs bit of introduction first. I was 25 and just ended five year long relationship, just about three weeks before wedding because I found she was cheating on me. Shortly after that my company sent me to a week long training in Brno. First thing I have noticed was woman from another organisation. She looked really well and me being single, started flirting with her from the very first moment. The training was very boring since I already possessed all the knowledge and I spent most of the first day helping this woman, Vera, and flirting with her. During the day, I learned that she was 35, married with two small kids and under normal conditions I would step back. At that time, I did not fuck MILFs. But somehow, after those five years, I needed to prove myself that I was still good enough to "pull it" in one day. And God, I did pull it. Luckily we were all accommodated in the same hotel and I had week of hottest sex I could imagine and my room remained unused for the whole week.

Two weeks later, I was going to the next part of the training in another, smaller city and Vera was going to be there again. I could not wait to see her again. You cannot imagine how disappointed I was when I found that she was in different hotel than I was. At this moment I have to explain that during that era, it was nearly impossible to sneak to another hotel and to visit someone. It was risky, but probably less risky than what did happen first evening.

If I recall correctly, it was in November and it was cold outside. There might have even been little snow around. After spending the day in training, flirting with each other and having quickie in toilets during lunch break, we were walking towards our respective hotels, cuddling, kissing and groping each other at every opportunity. We had to walk through the city park and that is where things started to hot up. It was dark and we could not see any people around, so we were enjoying each other as far as our warm clothes allowed us.

Finally, it came to her finest skills, blowjob. Kneeling in front of me, she took my dick out of my trousers and started doing what she was really good at. I was horny after all day of flirting with her and after all the groping on the way and it did not take long and I blew my load into her hot mouth. As always she managed to swallow everything.

She then lifted her skirt and I found that somehow she managed to get her panties off while sucking me. I eagerly repaid for her blowjob, eating her pussy until she was screaming in her first orgasm. She then bent over something, lifted her skirt and demanded me fucking her pussy. Being young stud as I was at that time, I obliged and started fucking her pussy from behind. It was cold and dark and I still did not notice where we were and what it was she was bent over. Only when I left load of my hot cum in her hungry pussy, she screamed in another orgasm and we both fixed our clothes, I was to find out.

Blue strobe lights suddenly appeared and siren sounded. Police patrol was going through the park and they must have spotted us. I was shitting myself with a fear -- fucking married woman in public was enough to get into troubles. But as the police car approached us and I saw where we were, I was just trembling with fear because at that moment, I have realised that when I was fucking her, she was bent over leg of statue. Generally, I would not worry, but in this case, the statue was of the communist hero, Vladimir Ilyich Lenin. That would be desecration of national symbol and could mean end of our careers at least and easily we could find ourselves in jail.

Luckily, they have not seen what we were doing and they just checked our personal documents, warned us that park will be locked in thirty minutes and left. Interestingly, we were lucky even more and few minutes later she was in my hotel room. We spent whole night fucking and we both were very late for the next day of training.

Shortly after this training we met again. She was falling in love with me and wanted to leave her husband and marry me. I have ended the relationship as quickly as possible and have never ever seen her or heard from her again.



Risking It All for Toni



A true account of a secret 20 minute ass-fuck with my Brothers Wife!

I was at my brothers house, watching videos on his computer upstairs in his study. My Wife was down stairs watching TV and keeping an eye on their kids while Toni, his wife, was flitting around the house, hoovering and tidying up. He was sat at the computer-desk and I was leaning against the wall behind him near the open door. His Wife came out of their bedroom clutching some dirty washing in her arms and dropped some items on the floor. 

As she bent down to pick them up, I caught a glimpse of red red-laced panties as her short denim skirt rode up over her ass cheeks. She spotted me looking but instead of being embarrassed, she just pulled her panties aside to give me a glimpse of her black-haired pussy! She traced her middle finger across her slit and rubbed it slightly before standing back up, blowing me a kiss and walking down the stairs smiling at me. I was shocked! 

My cock was instantly aroused and I found it difficult to think of anything but fucking her. We continued to watch the videos and a couple of minutes later, Toni came back up the stairs and came into the room to chat to us. My eyes followed her actions closely as she stood behind her husband with her legs slightly parted and leaned forward on tippy-toe over the back of his swivel chair to put her arm round him and peck his cheek.

"What you to up to" she said, as with her free arm, she slowly lifted her skirt up so I could see her pussy again! She had removed her panties and she was playing with her pussy for me just a few feet in front of my face. 

"Just watching some funny videos" he said, smiling back at her. While she continued to play, she chatted to us and made comments on the videos, occasionally looking round at me and glancing down at the obvious bulge in my pants. She gestured at me with her hand and I cautiously reached out to touch her bare cunt! It was soft and warm and as I spread her lips apart, I could feel it was very slippery indeed. Gaining confidence, I managed to quickly stick a finger up inside and just as I did, she let out a startled yelp and quickly moved away from me and said 

"When are you meeting Dan?"

"Oh shit I'd better go now!" he said and grabbed his keys to go. "See you later mate" he said to me. 

"Yeah, OK mate", I said as he ran down the stairs and slammed the front door shut. 

Immediately, his wife pressed herself against me and gyrated her hips against my hardness! She had a wicked grin on her face and as she reached inside the front of my trousers to stroke my cock, I reached behind to start working at her ass-cheeks and pussy. This dirty little slut - I was licking my fingers and pushing them up her arse and she said "Do you think gonna fuck me in the arse then?". With that, she quickly led me by the cock and dragged me through to their bedroom and latched the door. She hitched her skirt up over her naked peach ass and handed me some lube from her bedside dresser. "Better be quick, he's only gone to drop a DVD off to his mates house".

I couldn't quite believe what was happening, I'd never been put in this situation before and a thousand thoughts flooded my head. I never thought I'd cheat but without thinking, I pulled out my cock and lubed it up as she hopped onto her bed and pulled her skirt up higher over her waist. I poured some lube over the nub of her arse-hole and quickly spread it with my thumb. She had her ass high in the air with her head pressed low into the bed, her knees were together but her feet were spread apart. She arched her back down so her beautiful ass bulged up at me and was looking round at me with a sluttish wanton expression. 

My thumb worked around her ring and I playfully pushed it in a few times to stretch her. "Fuck it then!" came her command, so I offered my cock towards her puckered hole and she reached behind to stroke it gently and traced her fingers around her hole in circles before she eased a couple inside herself and gently pumped them in and out. When she took them out, she pushed backwards to encourage me to enter her. She gasped and moaned silently as I gradually eased inside her and once I was in, she picked up the intensity and rocked back and forth manically. 

She was pounding against me really hard from the start and began to moan really loudly like a porn star. "Sshhh!" I said, knowing that my Wife was downstairs. 

"I can't help it!" she replied. I reached forward to cover her mouth and she made an attempt to stifle her screams. She took my fingers into her mouth and sloppily sucked on them and managed to cup her hand under my balls as I was fucking into her - it all felt amazing and she looked awesome taking my hard, glistening cock as it slid in and out of her, making clapping noises and pushing and pulling her tight ring in and out with it. 

I really needed to cum quickly so I took my hand from her mouth so I could get a firm grip of her waist and then really let myself go, grunting quietly as I fucked her harder and faster. The intensity made the bed knock in time to my rhythm and I just hoped that the TV was drowning us out! She was clutching at the bed-clothes to steady her and while she was bucking around, she looked at me with cute puppy-dog-eyes and said "you can cum inside my ass". I upped the pace and really hammered into her for all I was worth for about another minute before I blasted stream after stream of my cum into her arse-hole! 

"OOOOoooooohhhh FFuuuck!" she kept screaming over and over, muffled into the pillow. Her body was shaking and quivering as she squeezed her long finger-nails hard into her ass-cheeks.

"Sshhh!" I said again to try and quiet her - I was exhausted; catching my breath, I held still for a moment with my cock pressed deep into her hole before slowly withdrawing. Her glorious arse-hole stayed gaped open for a few seconds and twitched slightly before it slowly closed over in pulses. 

"I'd better put these back on now" she said as she quickly pulled on the red-laced panties from before. I quickly pulled up my pants and we headed back into the spare room to await my brothers return. I managed to bring her off while we waited by rubbing her pussy just 10 minutes before he got back!! It was slightly awkward when he got back but when we went back downstairs for a cup of tea that my wife had made us, I relaxed and realized that we'd got away with it. It turns out that Toni is a right dirty little fuck-slut and regularly does things like that with her male friends and work colleagues. 

She told me she's gone home with her boss after work and told her husband that she had t work late. She even wanked another guy off while he was working at his desk because he asked her to in a series of sexy text-message dares! She's been dogging with her boss in his Mercedes, and she even brought a black stripper to her home on her Hen's night and got him to fuck her brains out while her husband was on his Stags do! He actually found out about the stripper and was so pissed-off that he beat her - she says now, all she cares about is getting as much cock as she can! I'm sure I can help out there!

I know I'll get to fuck Toni again soon. She behaves real sluttish around me now, always brushing against me or touching my cock as she walks past. She shows me her cleavage and has even flashed her pussy at me a few times. All the sexual comment and innuendos are driving me crazy; I want to spend longer with her next time so I can fuck her properly, it's just a matter of time before we can figure out a way to be alone together over-night. I'm hoping to keep her blind-folded for the whole night. 

First, I'm going to drive to a location and fuck her in her car while others secretly watch us and then film her surprise as she gets gang-banged and creamed on by everyone else. Then, I'm taking her (still blind-folded) to a phone-box in a remote village so I can publicly fuck her ass while some random guy listens in on the other end of the phone, giving her instructions to follow! I'm going to film the whole night, give her a copy and also post it on the net and get the addresses of any phone-box assistants to send a copy to them too! 

If anyone here would like a copy of the films I make, just leave a comment and I'll sort something out with you. I've told her I've got a few surprises in mind for her if she can get away for the night. We're due to meet up again soon and she's told me she's up for anything and hinted that she likes having two dicks inside her at once!!



Risking it All in Vegas



Risking It All In Vegas:

The Story Of Two Literotica Authors

WRITTEN BY:

BLUEFOX07 and SIMPLY_CYN

EDITOR:

Miriam Belle

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

-Be forewarned, this story is about two people taking chances outside their marriages for various reasons. If cheating isn't something you can read about, please don't. Otherwise, read on. It's not an easy story, and I think I speak for both Cyn and myself when I say that the title of the story is very appropriate. This is a story about two people taking chances when maybe they shouldn't be. As a few readers noted earlier, the substance is in the subtext. Cheers! –bluefox07, 10.21.06

-This story is a labor of love between a very talented colleague, Cyn and myself. We actually do have something of a flirtatious relationship, and this story is the realization of that. A lot of heart and soul went into this joint venture, a first for both of us. The narrative shifts back and forth between us, offering a more complete account of our first meeting. I hope you enjoy this as much as we did "researching" and writing it. –bluefox07

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

-This is my first attempt at a collaborative story and I couldn't have handpicked a better co-author or patient teacher. I never would have imagined two authors with two completely different styles could come together and mesh so perfectly that their styles actually blend into one. But I think that we managed to "blend" perfectly. *winks* I hope you enjoy reading it half as much as I enjoyed writing it. But I have to admit, the process getting there wouldn't have been as satisfying if it wasn't for blue. Keep reading! {muah} - simply_cyn

***

Cyn:

I can't believe that I actually had agreed to meet him. This was so unlike me. I think all this erotic writing had finally gone to my head. Was I having trouble separating fantasy from real life? As I sat there packing, worrying over what to take and what he would think and how much could I carry and whether or not this outfit made me look fat... the list went on and on. We were just meeting to collaborate on a story. 

That was it. 

Period. 

Nothing else.

I kept telling myself that. I could hear my voice echoing in the back of my head but the rational person in me kept tugging on my conscience ... "Cyn, what are you doing? You can't meet him. It's not right, even if your intentions are pure." 

But were they? Were they pure? I wanted to beat my head against the wall and get rid of the conflicting emotions inside of me even as I continued to pack my most lacy undergarments... things I had never even worn for my husband. But then again, I had ceased to see him as my husband years ago.

We had married so young and against my parents' wishes. But back then I didn't want to listen to the voice of reason ... my father. I wanted to act on what I was feeling at the time. In retrospect, I knew I had done it in my one true act of defiance against him. I had always been "daddy's little girl" and had followed his will obediently my whole life. But when Kyle had come into my life, I had felt a surge of reckless abandon and went with it. 

Now as I prepared to meet another man for the first time in my 17-year marriage, I knew my father had been right. Of course, I had realized that very fact many years back but I'm not one to just give up on a commitment. I had stood in front of my family and friends and most importantly, in front of God, pledging to honor and be faithful and everything else that marriage entailed and I took it very seriously. I couldn't just walk away from a promise I had made, even though it had been a huge mistake. Glancing over at the picture of my beautiful nine-year-old daughter, I sighed wistfully. 

Promises aside, I knew the one reason I really stayed was because of her. She was the innocent one in all of this and didn't deserve to suffer because I was unhappy. 

I could live without passion, couldn't I?

I think that's what had turned me to erotica. I had gone online, I think, in an attempt to escape this mundane life that I lived from day to day. I was searching for something else ... something to fill in the gaps when it came to my womanhood. I was longing for passion, for love and even if I couldn't have it offline, if I couldn't hold it secure in my arms that ached to hold someone, anyone that I could love, I might be able to release some of my pent-up frustrations online with my words. 

A friend had introduced me to Literotica, an online place for erotic stories and with my writing ability she had encouraged me to start submitting poetry. Before long the poems weren't enough and I started to write stories ... stories based on my fantasies, my secret longings, my aching heart that cried out for passion and uncontrollable lust ... all those things that I wasn't getting at home from my own pitiful relationship.

That's how I had met him. He had sent me feedback from one of my stories and I remember sitting in front of my computer, reading his words. 'Hello, I'm a fellow writer on the Literotica website and I just wanted to tell you that your stories are the best. They've kept me sane and satisfied through my tumultuous marriage and given me sexual fantasies that are beyond compare. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't completely enamored with your style and you sense of sexuality. Please keep writing and thank you for sharing. Always, an admirer' and he had left his Literotica pen name and his e-mail address.

Now, I don't usually answer "fan mail" unless there is something about it that appeals to me. For instance, I've been asked to write some particular stories for fans, which I don't mind at all. I like to keep my readers happy but with that, you have to be ready for those that don't like that idea because it might go against the grain of my particular style of writing. But I never answer the kind of feedback where readers want to be my "fuck buddy" through e-mail or some kind of crap like that. All they are interested in doing is jacking off while I weave the story. 

Uhm ... no thanks! I need a little bit more creativity than doing all the work.

But this guy ... I don't know.

There was something about those few simple words that said, "Cyn, you've GOT to write this guy back!" 

Well, I did and honestly I'm not really sure what I said to him but he wrote back almost instantly. Apparently I had caught him online and before I knew it we were e-mailing back and forth and quickly it took on a more sexual nature. Lord, I must have really come across as desperate! Pretty soon, e-mail wasn't enough. We started instant messaging and good god almighty, did that send my libido into overdrive. There was something about him that emulated pure, undulated sexual prowess and the more we talked, the more I wanted him. 

But this was just fantasy ... or at least I kept telling myself that.

He had asked me to collaborate on a story with him and honestly, I was flabbergasted. Martin was an amazing writer. He sure didn't need my input but I was intrigued. I really wanted to do this with him. Maybe it had been excuse, not just for him, but for me too because suddenly we had agreed to meet offline to collaborate our ideas; which we could have, honestly, done online just as easily. Yet here I was packing, getting ready to get on an airplane headed for Las Vegas. 

With me being in Texas and him in Oregon, neither one of us wanted to be caught with someone other than our spouses. It seemed like the perfect place to meet. You know the old saying, "What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas." Even though that part of me kept saying, "It's only for collaboration of ideas". Yeah right, whatever. Then how come I was packing my sexiest lingerie from Victoria's Secret? I wanted my bathroom mirror to be impressed I guess.

The drive to the airport seemed to go on forever. It usually takes me about 45 minutes to an hour to get to DFW from where I live but today it seemed to stretch on unmercifully. My stomach was bunched up in little knots and I had to keep wiping my palms on my low-rise blue jeans that I knew showed off my tight, heart-shaped ass just perfectly. They were my favorite pair ... shaped to fit a woman with my type of curves, flared out from mid-calf just enough to give length to my legs with a few ragged holes here and there. Topped with a wrap-around orange and brown silk sleeveless top that tied to the side beneath my full breasts that showed enough cleavage to make any man stop and stare, I knew I looked more than good.

I looked downright fuckable. 

I parked out in the remote covered parking and as I was pulling my luggage out of the back of my Ford F-250 (I'm a cowgirl, what can I say?), the transport bus pulled up and a young man hopped out to give me a hand. I couldn't help but notice his strong biceps that seemed to ripple beneath his short-sleeved work shirt as he hefted up my two larger bags with ease. Hey, don't blame me for looking! I'm a secret erotica fiction writer and I'm always looking for my next main character to play out my fantasies in words with. I felt stupid with as many bags as I had just for the short weekend as I took my carry-on and followed him into the transport bus. I was only going to be gone for three days!

I didn't really settle down until I got on the plane and it began to roll down the acres of cement that would take us to the right strip subsequently carry us to Las Vegas. I was a bundle of nerves, my fingers reaching up to smooth the loose curls of my highlighted auburn mane, blue eyes staring out the window as Dallas, Texas quickly sped away. As the plane took off into the air and my stomach flew right up into my throat, my nerves seemed to dissipate some. My fingers unclenched as I took a deep breath and accepted the decisions that I had made that got me here at this point in my life.

I was going and there was no turning back.

***

Martin:

Maybe it was the shared experience I found through Cyn's work that drew me to her like a moth to the proverbial flame. And like that small insect, I proceeded with just as much reason and understanding behind the irresistible pull of her fire. Perhaps it was the fact I had reached a point in my own life where at the age of twenty-five I realized that my marriage had been a farce. My commitment to the stranger sleeping next to me was hollow and only to be taken at face value in the hopes of sparing my children the pain and burden of my own mistakes. My honoring of the vows made that spring day in my parent's backyard in front of so many family and friends was now simply a binding contract to keep me at an unloving woman's side.

But believe me, I hold myself responsible. 

I mean, I asked her to marry me.

I loved my children too much to leave them behind. My wife hid from me the fact that she was not only a very verbally abusive woman and impulsively violent (to the point of punching holes in walls and actually slapping me), but also that she meant to control every aspect of my life as well. I believe in the beginning she wanted to simply find a man who didn't beat her or rape her or abuse her children, and she found that in me. She put on her best face as so many of us do and to be fair, my fault was destined to be blindness to the early signs of her manipulations and insecurities.

The further into our marriage we went, the more her true colors showed. It was like finding out the paint job on your new car was a cheap quick fix as it peeled away in the hot August sun. When sex became a whisper of a thought in my home, I turned to my writing. While she ranted and raved about her suspicions and baseless accusations I immersed myself in the written word. My sexual frustrations and desires came to the forefront of my work and Literotica was the ideal outlet. But as much as I enjoyed the writing, it was the reading of other stories that captivated me.

The message to Cyn had merely been meant to let her know how much her work meant to me. I figured she probably got dozens of emails everyday about her stories, and that mine would simply be another note in the mailbox. But the intentions and the emotions behind the words, the messages between the lines of her narrative had intrigued me. The unique vision and sexual fantasies she had unknowingly shared with me had been an anchor through the troubled first year of my marriage.

Later, I would learn that Cyn was going through similar marital problems and that, like me in my own writing, she was living a secret fantasy life she could never have. In the conversations that followed her unexpected response to my email we discovered a mutual attraction driven not only by common ground but also by love of the sensual word. When she showed me a picture of her I was floored. Discovering that the woman I had been fantasizing about for the last few months actually exceeded my high expectations was a wonderful surprise.

While there was some nagging guilt about my attraction to Cyn, I also could not ignore the honesty and kindness this stranger was showing me. In one short day, she showed me more genuine emotion than my wife had in a year. After a few progressively erotic emails, we decided to write a joint story. Both of us being eccentric and I think tired of living in the shadows of happiness, we decided to meet in Vegas and write our opus together. It was insanely bold and exciting. It was sheer lunacy to put so much faith in someone you only knew through words on a computer screen.

But if writing were about one thing, was it not truth?

Bearing all this in mind as I looked out the window of the 737 airliner at the thick white clouds covering the earth below, I cast away any thoughts of doubt. The timing had been perfect for the trip. A medical seminar for certified nurse's aides in Las Vegas gave me a perfect excuse to meet with my muse (at this time, I was working as nurse's aide). 

I couldn't forget her blue eyes and the way she smiled at the camera in the picture. Her hair was beautiful, a subtly radiant auburn burst of flame that fell to her shoulders and back in a simple cascade. I hadn't told her so, but I think my heart actually skipped a beat upon seeing that picture.

I rested secure in the knowledge that my children were safe with my parents for the duration of my journey while my wife visited friends in Portland. My heart raced as I restrained a smile, thinking of Cyn and what she would be like. The pulse of the engines mirrored the flow of blood in my veins, the idea of actually being next to her becoming more and more of a reality. I wondered at how she would walk or if she would blush when embarrassed by a compliment. 

I was surprised at how quickly I had become attracted to her, and had to remind myself that she probably wouldn't want to sleep with me despite our heavy flirtations. And I could understand that. Our emails were certainly suggestive and our conversations so overtly sexual that it seemed sex was inevitable. But the actual act of making love versus talking about it was a whole other story. More than anything, I simply wanted to see her and be able to have this one moment of happiness. If nothing else, just to hear her voice with my own ears and maybe even touch her hand once.

I could live with an unhappy marriage for the sake of my children, but I needed this connection badly. I needed a kindred spirit... and I wasn't beyond admitting I was lusting after her like a schoolboy over his sexy teacher. I shifted in my seat as persistent visions and slippery thoughts of her naked body rolled across my eyes like a fine mist. The temptation of her sex open and revealed to me was almost too much to play with as I wiped my forehead and took a deep breath. 

And then there were her eyes. If her eyes could captivate me so completely with a simple photograph, what would happen in person? 

Could I resist her? 

Something told me "no" despite my declarations to the contrary.

Oddly enough, I was fine with that too.

***

Cyn:

I couldn't tell you how long it took to get to Vegas ... a lifetime maybe. 

In retrospect, I suppose that was true. Here I was, thirty-eight years old, on my way to meet with a twenty-five year old man whom I had only spoken to through e-mails, instant messaging, and ... our stories. The time on the plane was spent mostly staring out the window, watching the intricate patterns God had created on the Earth below. It truly looked like a patchwork quilt and I kept comparing it to how, in my life, all the pieces of what had happened in it until this moment were interweaved in a pattern much like the one happening below. I always believed that every thing in our lives happens for a reason. 

What was the reason for meeting Martin? 

As the plane landed with only a slight jolt forward, my thoughts were suddenly elsewhere. I could feel the return of those butterflies as I gazed out the window. Even in the daylight, the skyline in Vegas was spectacular. I could make out the tall replica of the Eiffel Tower, the large lion shaped MGM Hotel, the tall tilting glass walls of yet another hotel ... and another ... and another. I smiled, remembering what it looked like at night. You could see the lights for twenty minutes before the plane landed. I could have easily got lost in the city of sin and the idea of shopping and trying my hand at gambling and the sightseeing, but I couldn't think of anything else other than him. 

I didn't have to pull out his picture to remember what he looked like. It was branded into my mind's eye just as deeply as if someone had taken a white-hot iron and seared it into my flesh; blonde hair shaven close to his head, bright blue eyes that seemed to say more than he was able to put to words at times, that serious expression on his face that spoke volumes about the things that he kept to himself that I so desperately wanted to know, and the muscular build that, despite myself, caused more erotic thoughts that I wanted to admit to. As much as I had grown to love spending time with him online, sharing story ideas and exchanging thoughts, he was deeply erotic and that coupled with the image of his bulging arms and well toned back and chest was enough to send my ability to fantasize into over drive.

I tried to remain calm as the pilot's meaningless "thank-you speech and all that jazz" echoed over the loud speaker of the jet, signaling all of us to start reaching for our carry-on luggage and what not. Taking a deep breath, I could feel my heart starting to beat like the wings of some wild caged bird that was desperate to get out! I waited my turn to step out into the aisle way, biting back a sudden desire to just sit back down and give way to my fears. Why was I suddenly afraid that he wouldn't want me? 

I wasn't here to be with him ... we were only going to meet and write a story! Why was I suddenly scared about how I looked or what I had worn or how my hair looked? I could only bite down on my lower lip as my turn came to step out into the aisle and leave the plane. 

I could do this ... 

I wanted to do this ... 

I had to do this.

I had forgotten that the very first thing that I would see would be rows of slot machines in the airport as soon as you walked off the plane, but then again, this was Vegas. Even the airport gave off that whole extravagant aura that can only be associated with the gambling capital of the world. My steps didn't falter even though my heart was beating a million times a minute. We had agreed to meet at the hotel and I glanced at my watch as I moved through the airport teeming with a wider array of people than I had remembered. Smiling, the only thing missing was a flock of Elvis impersonators. 

What was Vegas without them?

By following the signs, I quickly remembered that it was a good ways walk as well as a short trip down the escalators to get to baggage claim, yet before I knew it, I was waiting at the carousel for my luggage. I couldn't help but look around, as if I expected to see him close by doing the same. And if I was honest, I wanted to see him. A part of me wanted that run-into-your-arms experience with him and as I stood there glancing over the slowly spinning choices of luggage I realized that I had come to Vegas for more than just a meeting of the minds. 




Risking it All in Vegas



I wanted him.

I wanted to experience the passion he had stirred in me first hand. I wanted to feel his arms locked around me in a wanton embrace. I wanted to feel the rush of his breath on my exposed skin. I wanted to get lost in the dizzying affect of his lips on mine. And as I finally reached for my bags, pulling them from the rotating carousel, it became crystal clear ... I not only wanted it, I needed it. I needed him and this brief moment of happiness that was suddenly before me.

I felt my smile growing like a gentle cooling mist of rain on a smoldering summer day. I choked back a sob as it washed over me, growing with intensity. I wasn't going to let this opportunity pass me by because I might never have it again. Pulling my bags clear of the packed crowd in the baggage claim area, I quickly found the exit where the shuttle to my hotel was supposed to be waiting.

Dear god, I had forgotten how hot it was here. Even more so than Texas! But the minute I walked out of the door, I was suddenly hit with a blast of heat that only compared to the opening of my oven door after it had been preheating. I fully expected to suddenly start sweating and my carefully groomed hair that hung in loose waves around my shoulders would be gone! But I quickly remembered that the heat in Las Vegas was dry heat, unlike the humidity that accompanied the heat in Texas. My hair actually would keep its curl better in the desert (the only REAL good thing about living in the desert obviously!). By the time I was settled in the shuttle that would take me to the Bellagio hotel, I needed water but I had a strong suspicion it wasn't just because of the heat.

As the shuttle rolled away from the airport I knew that I had crossed a fine line that couldn't be erased. I had traveled over countless miles to meet a man that had, in a short amount of time, touched me more deeply, more profoundly than my husband of 17 years. And for the first time since agreeing to meet, I knew that I had done it for no other reason than to see if I could really have a chance at passion and quite possibly ... love.

Martin:

To my surprise, Vegas was everything it had been cracked up to be in the movies and on television. The bright lights, casinos and mixed bag of people were almost overwhelming as my cab rolled down the street. I had no idea where I was, let alone what landmarks I was looking at. I was floored by the huge glass hotels and the elaborate fountains and the non-stop glittering lights. For a brief moment, I saw my awestruck face in the reflection of the glass window. I looked about as out of place as I felt here. 

I leaned back in my seat, my duffel bag resting on the relatively clean cover next to me as my cabbie navigated the route to the hotel. He was like a Mississippi River boat captain, a stalwart blue collar worker who instead of only memorizing his small section of the river had gone ahead and committed it all to memory. The ride was smooth enough, but my body was pulsing with energy as the twilight of a smoldering Nevada night blanketed the sky in bold orange and purple hues. Ahead, I could see the hotel approaching us and I knew the moment was at hand.

The cab pulled up and I stepped into a new world, my overnight bag in one hand and a dozen roses in the other. The flowers seemed like such a stroke of genius at the time of purchase, a perfect way to let Cyn know my intentions all the while promoting the elegance of a true gentleman. Now, as I stood there looking more like a blockheaded football player trying to woo that perfect intellectual woman I worried if she would think I was being heavy handed? My self-doubt nagged me, playing out a reality more akin to King Kong romancing Fay Wray.

The glass doors slid open and I paused to let an older couple pass me. The wrinkled old man turned to me nodding a thank you, his myopic little eyes magnified to the power of ten behind those coke bottle lenses. I smiled back, his honest grin somehow alleviating my worries. I took a deep breath and stepped inside, my boots heavy against the carpet of the expansive lobby.

At the front desk, I gave the manager my name and after a few moments I found that Cyn had already checked in to our room. I smiled at the polite blonde woman behind the front desk as she handed me my passkey and gave me the room number, 2902. I walked away to the elevator as I straightened my black t-shirt out and adjusted my loose-fitting jeans. I kept my hair shaved close so worrying about a cowlick was pointless. Besides, I hadn't worried about cowlicks in a long time. My hair started falling out at age nineteen. The shaved look was more to keep my sanity than anything else.

The elevator opened and I stepped inside.

My mind was like a slide show of possibilities, with each mental click and shuffle a new still from the impending encounter flashed on the back of my eyes. I knew our conversations would be fantastic and I was excited to discuss literature with some one who actually liked books and stories. I could see images of us sitting at the small table in our room, notes and papers spread out for our collaboration. I could also see us losing interest fast in the work and beginning to touch each other like nervous virgins on a very seminal evening.

My cock began to harden in my jeans as the elevator opened and I stepped out onto the twenty-ninth floor. Slinging the strap of my bag over my shoulder I walked down the corridor, looking at the doors as my heart jackhammered relentlessly in my rib cage. It all felt so surreal, so bizarre as time seemed to slow down. My eyes fell on the door with the identification plate reading "2902" and I planted my feet firmly in front of it. I held the passkey in my free hand and looked at the metal electronic lock.

'You could turn back now,' my mind said, erring on the side of caution, 'What you're about to do is wrong, wrong, wrong...'

I sighed and actually replied to the little voice, 'Maybe it is, okay? But I need this. I haven't felt this happy since before I got married. Don't I deserve at least a little happiness?'

'Think about this,' the voice chimed, 'it's an awfully big risk...'

'I married a woman who enjoys belittling me and trying to control every aspect of my life from when I take a shit to when I leave the house,' I frowned, 'I'm taking a risk no matter what...'

'Once you go inside, it's all over my friend.'

I thought of my ridiculous situation at home and everything that had gone wrong since the ring had been slipped on my finger. I thought of all that I had tried to forgive and forget, everything that I had sacrificed to be with my wife. I thought of her admitting to her wrongs and swearing they would never happen again, from the mockery to the slapping. I thought of how no more than a week later, it all would start up again. And then I thought of how stupid I was for letting it all happen. I replied, 'It should have been over a long time ago.'

Instead of inserting the passkey, I knocked on the door.

"A long time ago," I repeated out loud.

I could live with a lifetime of fighting and enduring my wife's outrageous eccentricities for the sake of my two children. I could carry the burden of all that for them if the need be but before I shackled myself down, I needed to know what it was like to actually be wanted for who I was. 

I thought of her eyes again and felt myself empowered. Cyn had been such a source of strength and peace before and after we began talking. She was the shatter point to my life now, and I was beyond trying to tell myself that this meeting was anything less than life altering. And I so desperately wanted her. 

Even if it was just for one night.

The handle clicked, the lock disengaging as the door opened.

***

Cyn:

I had time to explore the Bellagio and took full advantage of it. 

I was as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. Martin wasn't due until later this evening and if I just sat around in the room waiting for him, I'd go nuts! I had only walked through the Bellagio once before and that was a couple of years ago. I remember being overwhelmed at its magnificence, at its opulent beauty. Not much had changed. 

Being a five-diamond hotel, the lobby was breath taking at the very least. There was a huge glass sculpture overhead, shaped like extraordinary flowers that seemed to cascade downwards around me as I slowly strolled beneath it. The way the light played perfectly through the glass was enough to make me stop for a moment and get lost in its beauty. I managed to tear myself away from the glass masterpiece and ventured out into the conservatory and botanical gardens. It was definitely a feast for the senses and I was overwhelmed by the intricate details that seemed to bloom right before my very eyes. I couldn't take it all in, the beauty of this place ... even the walkways that weaved through the rows upon rows of exotic plants and flowers seemed to weave a glorious tapestry that gave rest to my soul.

I spent a good amount of time here, letting my mind wander to Martin and his impending arrival. The longer I stayed here, the more I settled into my decision, the calmer I became about seeing him. It was going to be okay. No, it was going to be more than okay. It was going to be perfect.

I glanced down at my watch. The time was drawing near and I wanted to change. A soothing hot bath would do wonders for my well being and my confidence. Taking one last glance around the magnificent gardens, I smiled and reluctantly moved away, making a mental note to bring Martin here tomorrow so we could just get lost in its fragrance, texture and array of colors. I knew he would appreciate its beauty. He was that type of man ... deep, thoughtful, literate and appreciative of the world around him.

Slipping my electronic key into the door, I heard the familiar click and pressed down on the handle as I pushed open the door. I couldn't help but smile as I stepped in again through the small foyer, my gaze drifting momentarily to the small powder room set off the right as I walked through and then set my electronic key card onto the table immediately to the right. Taking a deep breath, I quickly strode through the living room to the windows beyond and pulled back the draperies with a quick *snap*, the fading light of the desert horizon pouring into the room. I stood there a moment to gaze down at the dancing water show going on beneath in Lake Bellagio, a soft smile curling upwards on my lips. We would have a fantastic view from our room at night and I felt the energy of excitement building up within me. 

He was almost here.

I moved through the living room and into the bedroom, blue gaze shifting to the large ornate king-sized bed that seemed to whisper my name and I felt a flutter in my belly that seemed to settle between my jean-clad thighs, building to a sweet pulsing heat. 

'Please, oh please, let me be everything that he wants', my soul seemed to whisper and I moved to the draperies in the bedroom to pull them apart as well. Lights were turning on outside, illuminating the city like I remembered; brilliant, bright colors that seemed to fascinate and draw you into their intoxicating trance.

'The city that never sleeps,' I thought. 

I could see why the name was so well deserved.

I would have liked to linger in the steaming, whirling splendors of the tub as my body leaned back in surrender to the massaging fingers of water that slid over my body. I relaxed in the swirling water scented with jasmine that wafted over me like a soothing caress. But I was running out of time and I wanted to be ready. Dragging my refreshed body out of the water, I quickly toweled off and reached for my bottle of scented body lotion that I just couldn't do without. 

Propping one dainty foot upon the rim of the tub, I quickly and efficiently applied the cream into soft, smooth legs and feet, working upwards to my thighs as fingers kneaded and rubbed it in and then more applied to the rest of my highly-charged flesh; the curve of my ass and backside, twisting and turning to not miss a spot ... my shoulders and arms, working it into my elbows and between slender fingers ... over my hips and across my belly that seemed to tremble in anticipation of his touch ... up beneath my full breasts, cupping them in my hands as my mind began to wander.

Glancing to the clock, I could feel my heart suddenly lurch up into my throat. 'Hurry!' the little voice in me prompted me into motion and I carefully but quickly applied just enough make-up to enhance my features and released my long hair from the clip that had held it up during my soak in the tub. I carefully brushed through the strands, amazing still at how the curl had stayed, thankful for the dry heat as I fluffed it with my fingers. Wiggling into black satin bikini panties beneath button down Daisy Duke jean shorts, I quickly adorned the matching bra and shrugged on a green-jeweled halter-top and looked at my reflection in the mirror.

"Not too bad, Cyn," I reassured myself.

And then it came ... the knock I had been anticipating. Somehow I knew he wouldn't just walk in. My fingers clenched on the edge of the bathroom countertop as I saw my own eyes widen. 

"Breathe ... just breathe," I whispered, quickly dabbing a hint of perfume behind my ears and on my inner wrists before I moved out of the bathroom and towards the door.

Putting my best smile on and taking a breath to relax my body stance, I reached for the handle, pressing down as the lock clicked, giving way. I could feel my breathing come in a bit quicker as I pulled the door open.

This was it.

There was no turning back.

***

Martin:

The door opened and there she stood. As beautiful as the picture had been, it did her no justice. The eyes I had become so enamored with were brilliant, luminescent sapphires sparkling atop her pearled scleras. Her skin was alabaster and glowing in the low lamp light of our room. Her hair had been perfected in auburn curves and waves, burning brightly against the shadows of the entrance as we exchanged our first look in the flesh. Her perfect lips curved into a full, genuine smile as she leaned against the door.

"Hi," she said softly. 

My eyes betrayed me, following the contours of her slender neck and to the seams of her sparkling green halter-top. My cock was ready to mutiny with my eyes as the undeniable curve of her breasts created an iridescent shadow across her stomach. Toned, creamy legs fluidly displayed themselves from the bottoms of her daisy dukes. I wondered if she was even aware of how beautiful she was. But then, the truly beautiful ones never know that they are. 

I found myself muted as my brain searched for a suave response, "These," I handed her the roses awkwardly, "These are for you."

Her eyebrows rose up slightly as she looked down at them, "Oh, thank you."

I stood there, smiling like an idiot and nodding, "You're welcome."

A long expectant silence passed between us.

She smelled them and then looked at me after a moment, "Would you like to come in?"

"Yes that would be delightful," I said and mentally slapped myself on the forehead for such a smooth remark, "Yes, of course."

'Delightful?' I thought miserably, 'You jack ass...'

We laughed nervously and I stepped inside the lush room, finally seeing where our hard earned money had gone. It was beautiful, a perfect setting for our meeting. I wandered around in the room for a moment and squinted, noticing there was no bed, only furniture. I said, "There's no bed!"

Cyn smiled and motioned her thumb at the door to my right, "The bedroom is in there."

"I knew that," I shrugged and put my bag on the plush couch (a piece of furniture that probably cost the equivalent of one of my paychecks) admitting, "The classiest place I've ever been was the Holiday Inn in Woodland, what can I say?" 

I opened my arms to her and prayed she would accept the hug offered. She immediately slipped her hands around my waist and I was suddenly lost in an embrace that was beyond friendship or simple collaborative respect. Our bodies meshed together as we held each other tight, her chin on my shoulder and the most alluring fragrance I had ever smelled caressing my nose. It was the perfect embrace.

And then she broke the hug and I did something rash. Maybe it was the mood of the atmosphere in the room or the fact that she was everything I had hoped for and more. No matter what the motive, I leaned in and kissed her gently on the lips. It wasn't a searing kiss of passion or a deep French kiss but rather a kiss of appreciation and gratitude. Instead of pulling away, she placed her hands on my forearms and returned the gesture.

"I figured I would chance a slap," I smiled against her lips.

"If it had been anyone else..." she replied and then placed the flowers on the small dining table.

"You look amazing," I looked her over again, my eyes hungry and obvious, "I mean, wow."

She turned away a little and blushed. She looked at me from behind that modest acceptance of my praise, which might have been over the top. But in truth, how could my comments be anything other than that?

"Thank you," she said.

I walked over to the couch, feeling more and more relaxed by the minute. We sat together on the sofa as the city of sin kicked into gear and the nightlife was realized. I looked down again at her breasts and fought the urge to stare. They looked so perfectly soft and inviting. Part of me wanted to reach out and grab her. I wanted to pull her to me and kiss her and touch her in the way our fantasies played out.

"So," she smiled, "What should we write about?"

"Well," I leaned back and tried my best to present my body in a sexy fashion by stretching my arms out spreading my legs slightly. I figured it would either catch her attention or make her laugh. No matter what, she would smile at least. Her smile was so sexy. I said, "We'd been talking about a story involving two people like us who meet for the first time at a hotel..."

"Like we are right now?" she asked knowingly.

"Yeah," I said, unable to hide my smile, "But you know, we're here to just write our story..."

The words sounded ridiculously hollow even to my own ears. We both knew why we had come here, and writing was the last thing on our minds. All I could think about was kissing her and touching that skin, tasting it and running my tongue along her curves. The story was about two people who met through their mutual love of writing and found a mutual sexual attraction. Art might have imitated life, but in that room at that very moment life was imitating art.

"Yes we are," she nodded and scooted closer to me, her legs crossed and looking irresistible. God, what was the fragrance? She said, "Though, I see neither of us brought a laptop to work on..."

"Pen and paper?" I said dumbly, "Work with our hands, so to speak?"

She laughed and then, with a suggestive twist, said, "I work great with my hands."

"Then we should brainstorm," I kept the thin veil of pretense alive as I unconsciously scooted closer to her, my hand and arm draped across the back of the couch and inching closer to hers, "You know, research the subject."

"Research?" Cyn tilted her head and cocked a brow. That was like the falling of a silent gate, sealing my fate. She licked her lips and asked, "What kind of research?"

"Well," I looked at her and suddenly felt very sure of myself, "Obviously, our two protagonists are meeting to have an affair."

"Yes they are," Cyn nodded as my knee touched hers. My heart was on the verge of exploding as our hands touched and she ran her thumb over my index fingers in a sensual tease.

"And like us," I said, "They're both very attracted to one another..."

"Kindred spirits maybe?" Cyn offered as our legs pressed together and our faces came to no more than a foot apart.




Risking it All in Vegas



"Lost souls," I replied as my right hand rested on her bare thigh, "Two people who have shared experience defying common sense and rationale for something more elusive...."

Cyn drew her face closer to mine, her breath fresh against my lips, "Like it was meant to be that they find each other? Maybe fate correcting mistakes they had both made?"

"Yes," I nodded, our noses almost touching, "Like it was meant to be."

"All the mistrust and pain fading away under the promise of a single kiss?" Cyn whispered as her nose grazed mine, her eyes looking deep into mine.

"They both risk it all," I breathed as our lips began to press together, "Just to see if their hearts are right."

"A single weekend of passion..."

"And lust," her fingers grazed my cheek as we met in a deep, passionate kiss.

***

Cyn:

Time seemed to stand still, frozen like it had been captured in a black and white photograph taped onto a blank black page to be remembered in ageless beauty. My words had been so bold, teasing him with sexual innuendos interweaved with comments that I knew only he could appreciate. But as his lips claimed mine, I was helpless beneath the power of our attraction, of my need for him.

I could feel my lips tremble, parting naturally beneath his as my fingers naturally grazed his cheek, sliding reflexively to the nape of his neck as if I held on, this moment would last forever. His hand slid higher up my thigh, over my hip and to my waist where he drew me in closer as our tongues collided for the first time.

To say the kiss was explosive would be an understatement.

I wasn't sure if the thundering in my ears was from the rush of blood that seemed to sweep over me like an approaching typhoon or if it was the beating of Martin's own heart that I could feel through the molding of his lips to mine. Either way, the sound was soothing ... intoxicating. 

My whole body was on fire for him and more than anything I wanted to take his hand, give him an alluring smile and lead him into the bedroom ... a bold move since he had just walked in the door all of five minutes ago. But instead, I simply drew back slowly, my lips nibbling on his teasingly before looking at his face. I could see the outright lust and hunger shining brightly in his eyes and the way his lips were still slightly parted as if hinging on my next move.

"Wow," he breathed, a grin crossing his face and reaching his eyes. "Just wow."

I smiled the kind of sultry smile only a woman can, knowing that she has the full attention of a man at hand. "My sentiments exactly," I said in a soft voice.

I could see the surprise in his eyes, almost disappointment as I stood to my feet and his gaze raked down my form again, taking in every detail. I couldn't help but smile, blushing softly even though his appreciative gaze empowered me.

"Where are you going?" he asked, and I could hear in his voice the disappointment.

I simply smiled, bending forward a bit to take his large hands in mine, gently pulling until he stood up with me. He smiled and glanced involuntarily towards the bedroom and in that instant I knew what he was thinking. Lacing my fingers with his, I smiled a sultry smile, leaning close to press my lips to his once more before backing toward the door leading out to the hallway with a promising smile, one hand reaching out for my electronic key on the table.

"I want to show you something," I whispered in a soft husky caress, biting back a soft chuckle at his incredulous look. But being the gentleman I knew he would be, despite the hard bulge I could see straining between his legs, trapped behind the confines of the jeans that he filled out nicely, his fingers tightened on mine and he willingly followed me out of the room.

Once in the elevator, I could feel his fingers gently stroke mine and even before I looked at him, I could feel his gaze on me. Turning my head with a smile, I said, "You look great, Martin. I'm glad you came."

He smiled at me, lifting my hand to his lips where he pressed a soft kiss, his eyes locked with mine. "I wouldn't have missed it for the world," he breathed.

That did it. 

I stepped back into his arms and he must have known it was coming because we were suddenly locked in a heated, passionate embrace. It was a bit more raw and sensual than the one had been in the room. Our tongues tangled and I could feel his hands on my ass, squeezing as he pulled me against his length. My own hands roamed his back, wishing that it was bare skin instead of cotton material, a soft moan materializing into his mouth. Good lord, we were going to be on fire by the time we got back up into our room tonight.

But then again, that was the whole idea.

I think we would have wound up against the mirrored wall in the elevator, going at it like a couple of over-sexed teenagers if the door hadn't suddenly slid open. We parted quickly, our breaths coming in a little shallow as another couple and their small child entered. I couldn't help but blush softly as I saw Martin's grin appear again, wider this time out of amusement. Being the gentleman he was, he nodded to the man before we all kind of faced the door, watching the floors fly by on the way to the lobby. I kept sneaking glances to him only to catch his gaze on me that made my heart flutter faster beneath my breasts.

Good lord, he was driving me nuts! I was supposed to be the one teasing him!

As the door slid open, I felt him reach for my hand again and my fingers interlocked with his naturally. My hand seemed to fit into his perfectly ... like they had been made to fit one another. We stepped out together and like an eager schoolgirl, I tugged gently on his hand and led him towards the lobby. 

"Come on," I said in a soft but excited voice. "You have to see this."

I could hear his chuckle as he let me lead him into the expanse of the lobby and as I stopped, he looked around some like he didn't quite get it and then at me. "Yeah, this is great," he said, his eyebrows furrowing some as he looked around. I could tell he was trying to find what it was that I wanted to show him.

Laughing, I leaned against his side, my hand sliding up his arm to wrap my arms more around his arm as I slowly looked up, my gaze urging him to do the same. "Look up, silly," I teased.

I could hear his intake of breath as his eyes finally saw the hand-blown glass sculpture that I had admired earlier this evening and we just stood there for a moment. I sighed contentedly as my cheek pressed to his strong shoulder. I could feel that he appreciated it as much as I did. We just stood there, taking it in and I was glad that he had the appreciative nature to just enjoy the shift of lights in the hand-blown glass and the intricacy of its detail.

"It's beautiful," he said somewhat in a soft, awed voice. And then looking at me, laughter dancing in his eyes, added, "I wonder why I didn't notice it before."

I laughed, my gaze meeting his. "Yeah, I wonder ..."

He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to my lips and then in typical male fashion, whispered, "So can we go back up to the room now?"

God, I loved his sense of humor. "No," I grinned, glancing over to one of the clocks on the wall. "There's more."

"Now how did I know that was coming?" he joked as my fingers locked with his again and he followed me. I could feel his eyes on my ass and I couldn't help but blush a bit, sneaking a glance to him.

"Enjoying the view?" I teased.

"Absolutely," he said in a clear strong voice, his grin breath-taking.

We stepped outside of the hotel and there, before us, stood Lake Bellagio. It was renowned for its fountains and water show and I wanted him to experience it. I remember the first time I had ever seen it. It had moved me to tears.

Gently tugging on his hand, we moved to the marble statuette walls that came about breast high for me and I glanced at my watch, knowing it was about to start. For now, the fountains were gently flowing much like you would expect any other large fountain to do. We settled up against the wall and leaned forward some. I could feel Martin's arm snake around my waist as he pulled me closer.

"This is nice," he said, glancing around but I could tell that he had other things on his mind.

"Mmm hmm," I murmured, nestling into the crook of his right arm as I breathlessly waited for the show to start. It would be any minute. I didn't want to forewarn him of what was going to happen. I just wanted him to experience it.

I could feel him start some as the music suddenly began, loud and strong. The lights in the fountain went dark and I grinned, my heart pounding wildly in my chest. I was excited to see the show again and even more excited to see what Martin's reaction would be to it. He glanced at me questioningly but I simply stared out at the water with a smile on my face.

But true to the man I knew him to be, he simply held me closer and watched.

The soft strands of Celine Dion's voice began to float on the air and my heart began to thump more erratically. How perfect! I couldn't have planned for a more perfect song as Martin and I stood transfixed watching the water before us come to life. The played out as though on cue from fate... 

'The whispers in the morning of lovers sleeping tight are rolling like thunder now as I look in your eyes. I hold on to your body and feel each move you make. Your voice is warm and tender, a love that I could not forsake.'

I inhaled slowly, my body relaxing against Martin's as I felt his arm tighten around me, his eyes wide as the half-acre lake in front of our hotel leapt to life with an explosion of sound and spray. 

'Cause I am your lady and you are my man. Whenever you reach for me, I'll do all that I can.'

Celine's aria of love lifted up to the sky as the waters before us feinted and flirted, wiggled and swayed, beckoned and broke to the music of her song like diamonds dancing before us. Martin shifted, his strong arm pulling me to stand before him. As I leaned back against him, the back of my head against his shoulder, his arms tightened around me and I smiled to feel his lips press a soft tender kiss to my temple. 

'Lost is how I'm feeling, lying in your arms when the world outside's too much to take. That all ends when I'm with you.'

Why was I feeling that Celine was singing straight to my heart as jets of water raced across the water? They gathered in speed with each passing much like my heart beating tenfold within my breast. I could hear the "ahhs" and "oohs" of the people around us and even though I could feel Martin's heartbeat against my back match the rhythm of my own, he stood quietly, enraptured with the spectacle of water, light and music before us. 

'We're heading for something, somewhere I've never been. Sometimes I am frightened but I'm ready to learn of the power of love.' 

As the final notes of Celine's haunting voice faded and the last jets erupted, I could feel Martin turning me slowly to look in his eyes. A shimmering curtain of mist hung over the lake, like a backdrop to our kiss as the applause erupted around us. 

***

Martin:

There are certain instances some people describe as a "perfect moment." These occurrences are often rare and even when they do happen the actual authenticity is up for debate, perfection being such a relative term. For myself, the only "perfect moment" I had known prior to arriving in Vegas was seeing my son born. That had been a moment filled with every conceivable emotion save for hate and anger, and it was truly a turning point in my life.

Time seems to slow down and the world pauses just long enough to recognize how important a certain act, birth, look or simple word truly is. As the water cascaded down from the air in a sparkling mist that was cool to the skin I experienced my second "perfect moment." The music was appropriately romantic and the crowd oblivious to the scene unfolding before them. I turned her to me, the motion fluid and far beyond my own skill to execute.

Cyn looked up at me, and while every encounter prior had been wonderful and equally better than the last, there was something final and binding in the look we shared. It wasn't overly dramatic or the sort of moment that grand orchestras build up to for a sweeping romantic theme and suggestive adagio. It was simple and uncomplicated, as we were ourselves. Her lips were curved into a small smile that spoke volumes, relaying her fears and hopes, all the dreams and passion she had poured into her writing while suffering the charade that was her marriage. 

I breathed deep, misty water from the lake swirling and looping in the air as though alive with its own energy. Without so much as a thought or hesitation I cupped my hands to her face, my fingers spread out and palms firm against her soft skin. I could smell that sensual fragrance again and the heat of her breath, fresh and inviting. When our lips met together, it was a kiss that surpassed all the others not just in terms of physical expression or wanton arousal, but also in mutual admiration and respect. 

Her tongue rolled against mine in a comforting and electric slide, her lips sealed to mine as the crowd around us applauded the display of waterworks. As my heart pounded and my cock grew hard again against her body, our arms wrapped around each other in a tight embrace, the sound of thundering hands was for us. I smiled against her lips and suckled on her tongue for a moment.

"Why don't you two get a room?" a voice said from behind.

I turned and saw a rather portly black haired woman with beady eyes glaring at me. 

I replied, "We already have a room."

"Well, do you mind?" she motioned to the three equally plump children standing at her side, "Take it somewhere else?"

"We're sorry," Cyn smiled, her Texan drawl adding an authentic dash of honest country goodness. 

"You know," I said to the heavy lady as we passed her, "Kissing is great. You should try it sometime."

"Take a hike," she waved me off, looking repulsed. I wondered how a woman with three children could be so offended at kissing? Wasn't kissing an essential part of having sex?

"Glad to," I smiled generously as Cyn led me away.

As we walked through the giant lobby, Cyn looked at me and said, "Looking for a fight were you?"

"Oh come on," I laughed and held her hand, our fingers interlaced together. "She was just looking for something to complain about."

"I suppose," Cyn leaned her head against my shoulder.

"Besides," I said, "It's good to see a happy couple kissing. Inspires other people to kiss."

"And we're a couple now?" she asked me, not looking up but smiling broadly.

"Well," I looked thoughtfully at the floor, "We're a couple here at the very least."

"Yes," she nodded and squeezed my hand, "We are."

My body was aching for her now. I was desperate to kiss her again, but this time to continue my journey down her neck and to her shoulders, slowly working that green halter-top off her torso. My mouth was watering at the idea of cupping her large breasts in my hands and feeling their weight, their silky texture and the hard nubs of her nipples. The idea of licking and kissing her there was damn near intoxicating as my cock created more and more of a problem for me as we walked.

"People are looking at me," I said as we strolled to the elevator. An old man reading a paper at the far end of the lobby eyed me for a moment, his eyes casually glancing down to my bulge and then back to his paper, a look of embarrassed amusement on his face.

"Are they?" Cyn looked down at my crotch and then commented, "I can see why."

"Well," I shrugged, "What should we do about it?"

She pressed the button for the elevator, "I have a thought."

"Do you?"

"Yeah," she grinned and pulled me inside the elevator, "But I can't tell you."

"Why not?"

The elevator doors closed and her hand fell to my crotch as she whispered, "I have to show you."

***

Cyn:

I heard his breath catch in his throat as my palm pushed against the hardness trapped, rather uncomfortably I would assume, in his jeans. I wanted him and as he reflexively pushed me against the mirrored wall of the elevator as it quickly ascended back to our own piece of heaven, I knew it was suddenly upon us. We had built up to this for a while now; first through e-mails, then instant messaging, a few suggestive phone calls and now today. I had hoped to string it along a bit longer but now that he was here, all thoughts of playing were suddenly dashed from my thoughts. I just wanted to feel his hands and lips on me and, in turn, I wanted to explore every inch of his body.

My hands were all over him as our tongues clashed together, growing in intensity as our passions began to soar. The straps to my halter-top were already halfway down my arms as my head fell back, his lips trailing over the sensitive flesh of my neck and bared shoulders. I was quickly turning into liquid fire beneath every stroke of his hand, every sweep of his tongue, every hot breath that washed over me in a ragged whisper.

As the elevators slid upon to our floor, we half stumbled, half ran out into the hallway, moving down the corridor entangled in each other's embrace. Our tongues collided, hands trying to feel through binding layers of clothes until we stood panting before our hotel room door. My legs felt like jelly as I fumbled with the electronic key as Martin's hands slid around me, grasping me by the upper thighs as he suddenly pulled me back hard against him. I could feel the outline of his thick cock rigid against my ass. 

I couldn't hold onto the card and it slipped from my fingers as a groan erupted from my lips, long lashes fluttered closed. I could feel his hard, strong fingers pushing against my slick cunt through the protection of my blue jean shorts. I could hear his soft growl in my ear as I gasped for breath.

"Wh-what are you doing to me?" I managed to whisper through parted lips, between my quick intakes of breath.

"Preparing you for what's to come," he growled low in my ear.

That was enough to send a sizzling shockwave straight down between my legs until my clit throbbed like it had its own heartbeat, thudding wildly between the swollen folds of my sex. I stooped down to pick up the card that had fallen onto the floor in front of the door, my darkened gaze glancing up at him. The look in his eyes was enough to drive me into a lustful frenzy and I couldn't help but trail my hand back up his leg and press hard against his crotch as I lifted back up with the key in hand.

"I'm more than prepared," I whispered, rubbing him through his jeans. "And by the looks of it, so are you."

His smile sent a shiver down my spine as he reached to pluck the card from my hands and inserted it into the electronic lock, the door clicking as it disengaged and then he pushed it open as his lips claimed mine again. All I could do was hold on, lost in his kiss as he guided me through the open door and into our room, the door gliding shut behind us.

He tossed the key and god only knows where it landed. His hands were everywhere all at once and I could feel myself falling into something more than lust. He touched me, in every way, unlike anyone I had ever known before. It wasn't just my body responding to him and the overwhelming power he seemed to weld over me, but my heart responded as well and I knew that once we had crossed this thin line that still remained somewhat in tact, it would cost more for me than just my marriage vows. My heart teetered on the edge of falling right into his hands.

Pulling back from him slowly, our breaths coming in quick pants, I managed to look at him for a moment, my hand coming up slowly to caress his handsome face. I know it sounded stupid and somewhat foolish after the build-up we had already gone through, but I had to know. 




Risking it All in Vegas



"Are you sure this is what you want?" I whispered even as my breasts heaved beneath the thin material of my halter-top.

"More than anything," he said in a sure, soft voice. His hand lifted to gently brush back an errant curl of crimson that lay against the side of my face. "But only if you want it too."

"I do," I whispered, my fingers lightly trailing down to his lips.

"I want you, Cyn ... more than anyone else I've ever known." His lips toyed with my finger, drawing it into his mouth.

I smiled gently, knowing that I would have no regrets. This was right. My heart said so. And I wanted to hold on to it forever. Taking his hand in mine, I gently tugged and he followed, our eyes locking as I led him into the bedroom.

***

Martin:

Her lips were suctioned to mine, our tongues intertwined as her arms wrapped around my body. Heat seemed to be radiating from us like the distortions on a lonely stretch of desert highway at noon. My hands were firmly planted on her ass, my fingers exploring and massaging the curve of her shapely buttocks. We staggered backwards, unwilling to break the kiss as we maneuvered blindly towards the large bed. Cyn suckled on my tongue, her lips coaxing it out of my mouth in a subtle hint of what was to come.

We fell back onto the bed, collapsing in a tangle of legs and arms. I dove my hands into her hair and pulled her in close to me, desperate to taste her and be near her. My cock was hard and aching against the pressure of her voluptuous body as we rolled together on top of the soft comforter. I couldn't believe how turned on I was. My face was burning with hot blood as my legs clamped around hers, our bodies seemingly glued together. I could feel her fingers reaching for the bottom of my t-shirt as we kissed. Her fingertips touched my flesh and I kissed all the more deeply.

"Sit up," I whispered in her ear.

"Okay," she breathed and looked at me shyly.

"Take off your shirt," I said as we stood on our knees before each other, the room dimly lit and filled with anticipation.

Cyn reached down and grasped the bottom of her halter-top, the shiny green fabric iridescently glittering in the low light. I watched with hungry eyes as she pulled the top up, revealing the pale flesh of her stomach and then slowly to the bottoms of her breasts. The fabric rolled and then pulled on her heavy tits, lifting them up for a moment as she came free of her shirt. Her breasts bounced back into place, jiggling and swaying as she lifted the shirt over her head and then cast it away. I marveled at her, drinking in her fluid curves and milky skin. The perfect size of her breasts and their delicate fullness made me feel light headed.

I lowered myself down to the floor as she scooted to the edge of the bed. Once on my knees, I leaned against the bed and pulled her closer by the hips until her legs were open wide and her crotch was against my body. I pulled off my t-shirt and then began gently kissing over her stomach. I rolled my tongue wetly around her navel, up to the bottoms of her tits and then to her sides. My hands gripped her arms, allowing her no movement.

Cyn leaned forward a little, letting her breasts hang slightly as I worked my mouth around the impressive swell of her right tit. The stubble on my chin grazed her erected nipple briefly and then I began kissing up the slope to her chest and collarbone. I licked and suckled up her neck and to the base of her ear. Cyn moaned softly, my hands still firmly holding her arms as I slid around to the back of her neck and began French kissing.

"Yes," she breathed and tilted her head back, her eyes closed beneath fluttering lids.

I worked my way back down again, this time turning to her left breast. I kissed my way down the soft slope and then began circling her nipple with my tongue, wetting the skin and relishing her hardened bud. Her breathing was becoming quick and shallow as I sucked her sensitive nub into my eager mouth and began flicking it with my tongue. I pressed the nipple between my lips as I worked my tongue against it. Cyn was smiling as I looked up at her, her lips curved and displaying such an expression of pleasure that my cock grew even harder in my jeans.

I worked on her breasts for the next five minutes, tenderly licking and suckling her. I wanted to enjoy every moment of my exploration of her body, I wanted to savor every taste and small moan of arousal. As I finished with her breast (for the moment anyway) I slowly began unbuttoning her shorts. I kissed my way back down her torso and stomach, dragging my tongue. As I released her zipper my lips wetly pressed to the no man's land between the heat of her sex and the dip of her navel. I lathered my mouth across her silky skin as my hands held hers down to the bed.

"You're driving me crazy," she whispered down to me.

"I know," I smiled as she lifted her hips and the shorts began to slide off.

"You know I'm going to make you pay for this..."

"I know," I inhaled her scent through the flimsy material of her panties. Her musk was undeniable as I licked my lips. I then began kissing her thighs, nibbling and suckling the flesh, teasing her and preparing her for what I had in mind. 

"Oh God," she whispered, a breath hitched in her throat as she shivered.

I found that her panties were already soaked from her juices as I applied my tongue to her swollen mound. I thought of moving the fabric but then decided to take a different approach. I explored with my tongue and found the slowly hardening button of flesh at the top of her slit. I rubbed my tongue back and forth over it through her panties, teasing the clitoral hood and letting the texture of the fabric stimulate her. Cyn gripped the bedspread with her fingers and dug in as I played with her clit through her panties, my lips, chin and nose now soaking from her excitement.

A small coo of approval escaped her sultry lips as I lapped and rubbed against her clit, the panties now completely soaked to the very fiber. I then began pushing my way past the patch of fabric and attacking her naked clit. Cyn laid back and I released her hands. I spread her labia wide and inserted two fingers as I pushed her panties aside with the other hand. I lapped and nibbled at her clit as I finger fucked her cunt gently. I could hear the subtle wet sounds of my entry into her sex, a sensual sucking that made me feel lightheaded again.

Ten minutes later, she was panting, her arms above her head and mouth open wide as I machine-gunned her swollen love button with my tongue. Cyn then cried out and bucked her hips against my mouth. I grasped her hips and relentlessly continued working on her clit, not letting up for a moment. I wanted her to feel as good as she made me feel. I could feel her pussy spasm around my fingers as her orgasm seared through her body. 

Cyn moaned loudly, a mix of wanton lust and uncontrollable need.

***

Cyn:

He was driving me insane with lust. 

He had managed to send me on a tumulus spiral upwards towards that deep abyss that kept whispering my name, growing in intensity with each pass of his tongue ... each thrust of his fingers. I felt both trapped beneath his ministrations and freed at the beauty of the moment as my whole body seemed suspended in time, screaming for release. When it came, I don't remember a moment in my past that quite compared to this one moment with him. I couldn't stop the uncontrollable spasms that kept coursing through my body like a runaway freight train. 

My hands slid down to his head as I jerked and bucked beneath him, half pushing him away from my over-sensitive flesh as I cried out, half pulling him closer in my need for more. My body couldn't make a decision on whether I needed to catch my breath or beg for him to just keep doing whatever it was that he was doing.

"Oh god, Martin," I managed to moan as my gaze dropped to him feasting between the trembling of my silky thighs.

When he stopped long enough to grin up at me, the need for his own release glimmering in his gaze, I knew that turn about was fair play and I had every intention of driving him wild with lust. I pulled away, scooting back on the bed, putting space between us as he continued to kneel on the floor at the edge. Crooking a finger with a sultry look radiating from my eyes to his, I whispered in a husky voice meant for his ears alone, "C'mere you."

That was invitation enough to beckon him to join me on the bed, sans shirt and with a raging hard-on that I knew had to be at the point of painful locked in his jeans. I don't think I had ever seen a man look sexier than Martin did at this very moment. As he crawled up over me, a mischievous glint sparkled in my eyes and I pushed at his chest, using the element of surprise as we suddenly shifted and I rolled over on top of him, my thighs straddling his hips. I could see a look of pure lust saturate his eyes, his lips parting slightly in anticipation of the retaliation I had planned for his slow seduction on my nether regions.

"You're so fucking sexy, Cyn," he said in a husky voice, his hands reaching up reflexively to cup my full breasts, his fingers toying with the rock hard nipples. I simply smiled as my fingernails trailed over his chest, raking over his own hard nubs that elicited a groan from his lips.

"You realize now that it's my turn to drive you insane?" I whispered, leaning forward a bit so that my long, blonde-streaked auburn hair swept forward to tickle at his chest like tiny fingers of fire along his flesh. He could only nod, his hips pushing upwards against my moist, warm cunt still pulsing with the orgasm he had created.

Mustering up the most sensual crawl I could manage, I began to slide down his legs, hovering over him so that my lips and tongue blazed a path of fire down his chest and across his belly. I could feel the muscles in his stomach clench and tighten as a groan ripped through his lips as my tongue drew circles around his navel, dipping in for a playful tease. His hands moved to my hair, fingers tightening around the silken strands that teased over his chest and hard nipples. "Mmmm," he moaned, his appreciative sounds reverberating in my ears.

My fingers slid over the steeled bulge in his jeans, the palm pressing downwards, applying pressure as my lips nibbled across the flesh parallel to the waistband of the cumbersome material. I knew he wanted to spring free and feel my lips on his pulsing rod. I could hear it in the hitch of his voice and the erratic breathing patterns panting past his parted lips.

Slipping my fingers into the waistband of his jeans, they probed downward beneath the elastic band of his boxers to feel the sticky wetness on the head of his cock. As soon as my fingers made contact, I could feel Martin's body tense up and his hips push forward, arching his back in a silent plea for me to end this torturous exploration. "Ooooo ... someone's drooling," I teased with a gentle laugh.

"You minx," he groaned, his fingers raking through my hair as our gazes met. I simply smiled against the flesh beneath his belly button as my fingers stroked the head of his cock. Without even looking at it, I could calculate just by the feel of his helmet-shaped head just how thick he was. This was going to be pure heavenly bliss and I purred against his stomach.

Martin's eyes closed as he breathed deeply, trying to control the impulse to roll me over and take control. And honestly, I wanted to get him to that point ... that point where pure animalistic lust took over and nothing short of taking what he wanted would do. I wanted to be out of control with him this first time. We had plenty of time for tenderness later. 

I could feel a shudder ripple through his whole body as my fingers popped loose the button on his jeans, followed by the agonizingly slow movement of his zipper going downwards. I think, if it was at all possible, he hardened even more beneath my deliberately slow ministrations. When he lifted his hips to aid in the removal of his jeans, I simply smiled, ignoring his silent plea to hasten my movements and instead, peeling back his boxers enough just to expose the head of his cock to my hungered gaze.

When I use the term "battering ram" to describe what met my gaze, it's because the lack of a better term eludes me. Just the head of his cock was thick and bulbous, shiny with sticky precum that beckoned forth the tip of my tongue but I managed to fight the urge temporarily as I gazed at the velvety smooth surface of his flesh. This was the source to many of my self-masturbation sessions in the months proceeding this night. I licked my lips as I gazed upon it, suddenly struck with the realization that I wanted him more than I had ever wanted anyone before in my life.

"Cyn ..." he breathed, his fingers splaying out over the back of my head. That one simple word, so full of passion and need, brought my gaze to his and I smiled tenderly. 

"Is that for me, Martin?" I teased him softly, my head tilting slightly to the right.

"Yesssss," he breathed, his fingers pushing down on my head slightly and I could see his whole body tremble beneath me. "All for you baby," he moaned, his gaze locking with mine.

My fingers curled into the edge of his jeans and this time when his hips lifted, I pulled them off of his body fluidly, carrying his boxer shorts with them until he was lying naked beneath me on the bed. I couldn't help but gaze down at him, drinking in his muscled form momentarily. In him I saw the way that it was supposed to be between and man and a woman. He made me feel extremely feminine and sexy and with all that I was, I wanted him to know just what that meant to me.

With a sultry smile that I had perfected over the years, I slid down the length of him, my lips and tongue traversing his flesh like a memorized path ... across the expanse of his hips, down the trail of perfectly shaped hair that led from his navel to beginning of his throbbing pole, skirting around the edges to nuzzle my nose against his swollen balls as my tongue teased at the inner flesh of his thighs. 

I could hear his deep intake of breath and feel his fingers delve deeper into my auburn tresses, tightening some as his hips pushed forward. I inhaled the masculine scent of him as the tip of my tongue snaked out to tease and lap at his shaven balls swollen with need. When he groaned in appreciation, I gently sucked one into my mouth, rolling it gently around on my tongue before releasing it to mirror the actions to its partner. I could feel Martin begin to writhe beneath me and I smiled, pulling back only enough to whisper, "I told you that I would get you back."

Martin could only groan in response as his cock throbbed like a flag of surrender before my very nose. My tongue snaked out to slide up the length of him, pressing deep to the pulsing vein that ran up its entirety to the reddish purple head that begged for my ministrations. But being the true minx that he accused me of earlier, I simply traced around the bulbous head with my tongue as my fingers slid up between his thighs to gently toy and tug at his swollen balls.

His hands left my hair to clutch at the bed covers beneath him and my hair pooled over his thighs like a heated caress, only adding to the magic I was creating with pliant mouth and probing tongue. Ignoring the head of his cock a bit longer, my lips nibbled down the length of him again as my hand wrapped around the base of his cock. I could feel him jerk beneath me as I applied a soft nip to the base of his cock before I soothed it with my tongue and slowly began to stroke his length with my hand.

"I can't take it much more," he groaned, his eyes flying open to lock with mine as I lifted up just enough to look in his face with a smile. My hand was stroking him in long even passes, applying just enough pressure that promised of what was to come.

"That's the whole point, baby," I whispered, a smile blooming on my moist lips.

He groaned again, his head falling back into the bed as his hips began to move in time with my hand. I knew he was close but also from the conversations that had preceded our meeting, that if he got off first, he would last all the longer later. And I wanted him to last.

I could feel his body tense and hear his breathing change and I knew he was close. With a soft purr, I lowered my head to capture the head of his cock finally in my warm mouth. Martin's hand immediately moved to push my hair out of the way and I glanced up to see his head lifted and his gaze on me, watching as I began to suck him as my hand stroked his throbbing shaft. His lips fell open as his breath came in faster ... deeper. I couldn't help but purr over the head of him as his fingers tightened in my hair, pushing my head down a bit more to take more of his cock into my mouth.

Dropping my gaze, I increased the pressure of my hand, my tongue pushing against that throbbing vein beneath the head of his cock and began to suck him with a fevered hunger. I knew he was close and I wanted to taste him more than anything. His head fell back and I heard a deep moan rip from his throat as his cock went rigid between my lips. My free hand moved to his balls where they swelled in my hands and I prepared myself for the explosion that suddenly ripped through his length and erupted into my mouth.

As I struggled to swallow every bit of his thick salty-sweet cum, I knew that this was just the beginning to a weekend that would change my life forever.

***

Martin:

Cyn straddled me as we lost ourselves to the fire within. She leaned forward and I licked her nipples, suckling on them as my tongue darted out like a crazed snake. She ran her hands through my hair, closing her eyes and relishing every movement of my mouth against her sensitive flesh. I cupped her large, milky breasts as though they were a national treasure. Each lick was a testament to my attraction to her, to my need and lust for her. Every suckle and kiss on her skin was a promise of my commitment to please her, to make her feel as though there were no other woman that could ever compare.

With a gentle roll, I guided her onto her back and laid her out straight. I moved with smooth, intentional purpose, my frantic passion giving way to a more professional and experienced want. My tongue flicked her neck, followed by hot, wet kisses down her chest, across her collarbone and shoulders and then directly between her tits. I held her hands aside gently, and licked her nipples again, my tongue applying a pressure and friction to her tips hoping that she might scream. 

I kissed under the swells off her breasts, over her ribs in a back and forth sweeping motion, my tongue leaving a glistening wet trail. She bit her lip as I applied hot, long wet French kisses to her belly, around her navel and below causing her to heat up internally. I imagined her as an oven, the fire being stoked to burn hotter and faster. 

I kissed down her legs, dragging my tongue down the insides of her thighs, down to the knees and calves. I kissed down to her foot and gently kissed each toe, and then worked my way back up, spreading her legs apart as I went. I was desperate to enter her, to feel her clench my cock with her inner muscles. But I wanted to prolong this experience as much as I could. I didn't know for sure if we would ever get the chance to be together again.

When I reached her pussy, I immediately started in on her clit, my tongue working it's way to position as she squirmed under me. I swirled my tongue around her hard button, taking my time to tease and arouse her as much as I could. I flicked it and nibbled on it, suckling the hard mound of slick flesh into my mouth. Cyn was now moaning so loudly I had no doubt anyone next door could hear us over his or her television set. She slid her hands up to her tits and massaged them. As I loved on her clit, I watched her pinch and pull her nipples hard as she neared her climax.




Risking it All in Vegas



My hands grasped her hips as her legs closed around my head and neck. She tweaked her nipples hard as she leaked her vaginal fluids. Her hips bucked and then spasmed. Her cry was loud and heartfelt, even soulful as she was carried away by her climax. I stopped and lay next to Cyn as her eyes shut tight, her mouth open and gasping for air.

"Do you know what you do to me?" she asked, every other punctuated with a heavy breath.

"Probably exactly what you do to me," I replied, watching her impressive breasts heave up and down as she recovered. Cyn smiled at me and grasped my shaft, pushing me down slowly onto my back. I forgot all about the condoms I had left in my duffel bag as the culmination of our foreplay began. She straddled me and placed my swollen head at the entrance to her sex. My cock slipped into her wet pussy and I couldn't help but groan, her hot interior as close to heaven as I'll ever get. I could feel her tighten and squeeze around my shaft as she began humping me, her hands braced against my pecs.

I thrust inside her, matching her pace.

"Oh fuck me," she cried, and we started fucking like animals. She began riding my hard cock, her tits bouncing back and forth and up and down. Our skin slapped together violently as she slammed down on my shaft, my thrusts meeting her with equal force. We went on like this for a time that I couldn't measure. And then suddenly we flipped over and her legs wrapped around my waist.

I licked and bit at her earlobes as she feverishly sucked my tongue into her mouth. Our breathing was fast and short as my cock pistoned in and of her warm snug pussy. She scratched at my back and arms and I knew she was leaving marks on me. She cried that she was coming as her tits jiggled beneath me, her juices seeping out onto the comforter. I was so close to my orgasm now I grabbed her clawing hands and held her down, fucking her like a madman.

"Fuck me harder!" she shouted.

"Oh God yes," I growled.

"Fuck me baby, come in me. Come in me!"

I did. I moaned, "Oh, CYN!!! And my cock steeled itself as my head swelled one final time deep inside her. My body seized up and I spurted my load, my arms shaking violently. Cyn grabbed me and pulled me close, biting into my shoulder, her fingernails deep in the skin of my shoulder blades. We were panting and gasping as our mutual sex electrified between us in a wet and overwhelming finale. I collapsed on her and she held me.

"Oh, my God," Cyn said.

***

Cyn:

I was lost momentarily in a swirling cloud of euphoria that I had never quite experienced before as I lay gasping for breath in his arms. My entire form quaked gently against his strong warmth as small shudders continued to ripple through my cunt locked around his cock in a viselike grip that started to recede as we shared ragged breaths back and forth between us like each of us were dependent on the other for much needed oxygen.

I could feel Martin's heartbeat thudding against my chest and when I looked into his eyes and I smiled a slow sultry smile, one that mirrored all that I was feeling inside at the moment at the culmination of our months playing back and forth first through e-mails, instant messages and then sizzling phone calls. "Was it everything you had hoped for?" I asked in a teasing voice, the look on his face answer enough.

His hands wrapped around me, massaging the small of my back before sliding down to the curve of my ass and squeezed. 

"God yes," he said through a half moan, "And so much more."

I smiled tenderly at him, the emotional part of me feeling things that would remain unsaid as I gently pushed against his chest to sit up, still impaled on his deflating cock. His gaze watched me and it looked like if he could drink in my entire form with the look in his eyes then I'd be seared into his soul forever. Stretching upwards like a well-fed cat, I pushed slender fingers into the tangle of my golden-hued auburn hair and shook it out behind me like a waterfall of crimson satin down my back. 

"I know exactly what you mean," I said in the sexiest Texas drawl I could muster.

His hands came up reflexively to cup my full breasts once again, his thumbs playing over the nipples that instantly tightened beneath his touch like well-trained beings that responded solely to his command. I purred low in my throat, gazing down at him and suddenly had an idea that I just knew he would love.

Leaning down, my lips beckoned his in a sultry lazy kiss to follow my lead before I peeled myself from my position on top of him and it almost felt as though our skin hesitated in reluctance to part. I reached for his hand as I stood and he rose from the bed to follow me into the large bathroom.

Martin's eyes bulged some as, for the first time, he saw what pleasures our bathroom held in store for us. When you first walked in, it was more like a powder room with mirrors on the walls above marbled countertops that ran along the middle of each wall complete with drawers and embroidered settees pushed beneath them. There were twin French doors that stood opposite each other; one leading into 'Her' bathroom and the other into 'His". I led him through the 'His' open doors to the glass shower built for two, glancing back at him with a sultry smile lifted upwards on my lips.

He grinned back at me as he suddenly realized just what I had in mind and taking me in his arms, planted a seductively slow kiss on my lips, our tongues tangling together for a long moment. Pulling away he said, "I love the way your mind works."

I simply smiled, letting my actions speak instead as I pulled open the shower door and turned on the water, testing the temperature until it was steaming but not scalding, thinking it matched the temperature of our passion pretty much to the core.

Martin came up to me from behind, his strong arms enfolding me close and we stepped into the shower as one, beneath the streaming water as he pulled the curve of my ass against his growing erection once more. I simply purred, my hands moving behind to capture the strength of his hips, my nails gently scoring his flesh as I held on. My head fell back against the curve of his shoulder as the hot water hit me directly on the collarbone, sending a spray upwards into our faces and over our backs as it beat down unmercifully over us, only seeming to fuel the liquid heat that was intensifying between us once again.

I could feel Martin's hand beginning a lazy exploration of my front side, large hands cupping my breasts, lifting them as if testing their weight as his thumbs brushed over the tightly coiled buds. I relaxed against him, my lips parting naturally in preparation of the panting breath that I could feel beginning to quicken within me. My own hands flexed on his hips, the nails reflexively digging into his flesh as his hands released my breasts only to slide over the smooth plane of my belly, causing a quick intake of breath on my part and my whole body to tense momentarily in anticipation of where his hands were headed.

As his hands slid over the curve of my hips, my legs shifted; one bending slightly at the knee and turning out a bit as the other stiffened to be the support of my weight as I leaned some against him. I could feel his lips moving over the side of my neck and down to my shoulder, his tongue darting for a taste of my salty skin before it washed away beneath the spray of the water and my eyes closed, reveling in the sensations of both. I could feel his hands slip lower, teasing the swollen folds of my cunt to find my clit beginning to harden and peek its head out from beneath its protective hood once more.

One of my hands slide down some on his thigh as he other pulled on his hip, drawing him closer as the growing erection against my ass became more apparent. I wiggled back against him in a blatant invitation for him to fuck me again. I was amazed somewhat at my insatiable hunger when it came to him. I just wanted to spend all weekend with him in bed. 

Fuck Vegas.

And then he turned me and my eyes bore into his. I could read the blatant lust and hunger in his eyes and knew that our appetites mirrored one another's as he pushed me against the glass wall of the shower. My breath caught in my throat as his strong hands slid down my back to my thighs where he caught me up and lifted me as easily as a five-pound sack of potatoes. 

My legs responded instantaneously, as if they had done this dozens of time and wrapped around him as my back slid up the glass wall and my hand fell between us to wrap around his now throbbing cock and lined it up with the gaping hole of my wet cunt.

"Please let me fuck you," he breathed even as his hips thrust forward, impaling his thick rod deep into my willing cunt. It wasn't a request on his part, but instead, a desperate vocalization of what we both were feeling.

"Yes Martin ... fuck me baby," I encouraged him on a heated whisper as I leaned close to his ear, my teeth capturing his earlobe to suck into the depths of my mouth as his hips pistoned forward, burying his entire length into spasming velveteen walls that wrapped around his length like warm, wet satin.

That's all the encouragement it took as his fingers dug into the creamy flesh of my hips and ass, the muscles in his arms shifting and flexing as he began to bounce me up and down on his length. My cries of wanton pleasure echoed around us in the swirling mist of hot water that began to rise from the heat of the water and our joined passions, fogging the mirrors that surrounded us on the walls, picture perfect images of our erotic coupling. My back slid up and down the glass wall, wet auburn curls slicked back from the water and clinging to the glass cage that kept us confined within until they looked like fingers of passion splayed out in an arch behind my moving form.

My own hands gripped at him, frantically clawing at his strong shoulders and back as if I couldn't pull him close enough ... deep enough. I was hungry for more. My head fell forward as my lips claimed his neck, suckling like a hungered animal falling upon its prey, my teeth sinking into his flesh as his cock slammed up hard into me, the head pounding time and again up against my cervix that rocketed through me like an explosion of nerves. 

I was torn between lusty moans and screams of delight that swirled around us like a never-ending crescendo of sound that only seemed to spur Martin on to fuck me harder.

I could feel it welling up in me ... that release that hinged on his every move and Martin already seemed so in tune with my body that it didn't take long for me to reach an earth-shattering climax. My nails dug deep into his backside as my head jerked back against the glass wall, held fast from being able to go very far as a wanton cry fled past my parted lips swollen from our frenzied and lustful kisses. 

"Ohhhhhhhhhhh yeah ... fuck me baby! Don't stop!" He took the desperate wail on my part to heart, a groan lifting from his lips as his hips took on a life of their own. I could feel his cock grow rigid, like hot steel as it pounded up inside of me like a well-oiled machine and my orgasm got lost in the over-whelming sensations he created in me. My mouth descended on his hungrily, drinking deeply from his mouth as our tongue collided, trying to replicate the stabbing motions of his hips against mine. I needed him more than I had realized up until this very moment.

And then I felt him thrust hard into me one final time as his cry reverberated through the steamy room, his cock gone rigid as it shuddered locked in the vise-like grip of my walls around him, encouraging him to explode and paint the muscles therein with his thick, sticky seed. 

"Oh yeaaaaaahhhhh! FUCK!" he shouted, his fingers tightening on my hips and ass in a painful hold that left me gasping for breath and I groaned, whimpering as he spewed hot thick ropes of pearly cum deep inside me for the second time.

***

Martin:

As my cock recovered, I discovered I was still horny as hell. We stepped out of the shower and I laid her back on the cool floor. Her nipples grew even harder as she reacted to the cool tile against her hot flesh. I tongued her up and down, and then I slid my mouth up to her clit and took it into my mouth. Her clit was a pink little button that fit nicely between my lips and I started sucking on it. I sucked on it and gently used the tip of my tongue across it as her legs shook.

I felt insanely out of control, and from the reaction Cyn was giving me the feeling was mutual.

She threw her hips as far forward as she could and screamed. "Yes! LICK IT, LICK MY PUSSY, FUCK, YES!!!"

I worked her clit over wildly as I slipped two fingers into her cunt, my cum leaking out and making a sticky lubrication. I had never been with anyone so quick to orgasm, but Cyn was cranking them out one after the other. She cried out and had another orgasm that took her breath away. As she gasped, her nipples huge and swollen and her pussy soaking wet as my mouth greedily drank her up, she whimpered and panted. She finally got her voice again and put her hands on my head, pushing my mouth deeper into her groin. 

"More, just a little more, I'm so close again..." she said.

"Beg me," I said, slowing my tongue.

"What?"

"Beg me to make you come." I started licking her again, playing her swollen love button. 

"Keep going, please!" Her voice was filled with need as laughed, "You tease..."

"No. Beg me. Beg me to use my tongue."

"Oh please Martin," she moaned, "lick me with your tongue!"

"Beg me to lick your pussy,"

"Lick my pussy. OH GOD, LICK MY PUSSY!"

I obeyed. My tongue lapped recklessly at her clit as she writhed underneath me. I don't why I was being so controlling, but it was turning me on to no end. I think Cyn was enjoying it too as I tongue fucked her sopping wet sex for all I was worth. My tongue and jaw was aching now as we soon approached another orgasm. I couldn't believe it.

"UHH, UHHHHH, OH FUCK, FUCK, YES, I'M COMING AGAIN, FUCK YES!!!! OOOOH MARTIN... YES!!!!"

At last she was done. My face was covered in her sweet juices, my mouth filled with her nectar. She was still breathing hard when I sat up, completely amazed at how aroused she was. I felt a primal explosion of lust in my soul as she sat up with a fierce expression on her face and slid her hands down the front of my body, her fingers searching out my cock. Her nails tickled my tip and I sucked in my breath. 

"Jesus," I said and I moaned as she came to me and grasped my swelling shaft and biting at my shoulder. 

"Give me your cock now," she demanded. She pushed me back against the shower stall as I tried to stand up. She got to her knees and then suddenly my penis was in her mouth again. Looking down at those rosy lips around my glans and feeling that tongue swirling around me made me moan like an animal. 

"Cyn, fuck," I gasped as my knees started to wobble. She was good, fantastic, in just a few seconds she had me ready to come again. Speaking of rapid procession orgasms... She wrapped her hands around my cock, jerking and sucking me at the same time. My eyes rolled back in my head, the pleasure damn near as powerful as a drug. 

"If you keep doing that, I'm going to come," I said, my voice shaking.

"Mmm!!!" was all she said, and she began sucking with even more intensity.

"I don't want to come in your mouth. I want it inside you." 

She moaned again and kept sucking. 

"I have to be inside you..." Her mouth was all over me, her nails tickling my balls. 

She was getting me back for my teasing of her.

"Soon...soon...Cyn!" My cock was about to erupt and I had to have her. I pulled my hips back and my cock slipped from her mouth. 

"Baby no!" she said, disappointed. I reached down and helped her to her feet and led her back into the bedroom. I laid her down on the bed and positioned myself on top of her. My cock brushed against the wet lips of her pussy and I reached down to guide myself in. I was frantic with passion, I needed to be inside her. 

"Oh Martin," she said, wrapping her legs around my ass and grabbing my arms, "Oh Martin yes..."

I thrust inside her. It felt so good to be coupled again with her that I shouted, "CYN, FUCK!"

"So fucking big," she cried out lustily, and we started fucking like animals. Our voices were accented by each thrust and twist of our bodies. We frantically kissed, our breathing hot and rapid as our tongues danced together. Each time our lips touched, it was an act of making love in and of itself. Purpose and need filled every lick, every thrust and every moan as we found our rhythm and started working towards our climax. Her breasts were bouncing back as we humped, moving of their own accord and turning me on even more than I already was. Her smooth legs slid up and wrapped around me, squeezing me to her as she tightened her pussy around me.

In the soft illumination of the city beyond the window, she had a heavenly glow to her, her skin glistening with a light perspiration as we locked our eyes together. Her mouth was parted in a sexy half smile of approval as he humped each other, feeding off our mutual love for one another. I could feel my orgasm coming fast as my body pulled tight, every muscle poised.

"Yes," she looked at me as my cock began to go rigid like steel, the head ballooning out, "Yes... I want to feel it inside me."

"Oh Cyn..." I breathed as sweat beaded across our bodies.

"Do it, baby," she smiled, closing her eyes. I felt her hand slide down and begin rubbing her clit furiously as we continued. Her face contorted in a grimace of ecstasy as she fought for her latest orgasm of the evening. I could feel her pussy tightening around my cock, squeezing me and making the slippery friction of my passage almost overwhelming. I could see stars circling in front of my eyes as she suddenly pulled me close, grabbing my neck and kissing me hard as she came. 

"OOOOOHHHHH FUCK YES! FUCK!"

She moaned into my mouth, her pussy spasming and drenching my groin. The hot flood of juices caused my own orgasm to explode inside her. I went rigid and groaned in a primal expression of my lust, my hands digging into the bedspread. Our hips continued rocking together under their own momentum as we tried to calm down. Finally, the instinctual humping subsided and we lay there together, still coupled and thoroughly exhausted.

I looked to her, sweat stinging my eyes, and kissed her softly on the lips, holding her and loving her.

"You know what we forgot?" I asked her as my cock receded in her vagina.

"What?" she asked, her Texan accent thick and satisfied.

"Our story."

She smiled, "I think we just wrote our story, baby..."

I nodded and grinned. I asked, "You feel like sleeping?"

"Not in the slightest."

"Me neither."

"You know," she looked at me, "We still have a whole weekend ahead of us..."

"This is true."

God, she looked so beautiful. Something switched over in my heart at that moment as she looked at me, so innocent and honest with me. She said, "We should definitely keep researching this story..."

"We owe it to the readers?" I suggested and kissed her gently.

"Yeah," she kissed me back, "But I think we owe it to ourselves."

She was right.

We did.

I held her close to me and soon lost myself in Cyn as easily as I had lost myself in her stories.