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Rescued

By: Bella_Seni



This is a continuation of the Holiday Cheerleader series, but since the chapter numbers tend to get screwed up, I'm giving each new story a different name.

###

Julie sat on a plastic crate in the family room of a house under construction, pondering her options. Both wrists were bound to a rope hanging over a wooden beam high above her. She was naked except for a small blanket thrown over her shoulders. In front of her, a large picture window allowed her a view of the nearby sidewalk and busy street.

The same picture window, of course, allowed anyone outside the house to see in. With that in mind, Julie weighed the arguments for and against standing in the window to get somebody's attention before the night got any darker and colder.

The beautiful eighteen year old girl wouldn't have been in the situation if her brother Justin and her friend Todd hadn't left her in the house after having sex with her. Yes, it had been her fantasy to have sex in 'public' with her brother. But she HADN'T planned on his turning it into a bondage fantasy as well...or that the two guys would leave her helpless in the house afterwards.

Justin said the construction crew would set her free in the morning. Yeah, right! There's a better chance the sun won't come up, Julie thought to herself.

It was getting cooler. The blanket was hardly going to be enough to keep her warm as the night wore on. What to do?!

A few minutes later, just as Julie had convinced herself that standing at the window and getting someone's attention would be her best bet, she heard the front door open. Panic overtook her, knowing that she had no defense whatsoever against the intruder. She held her breath, ready to scream.

She heard footsteps in the sawdust-filled hallway leading to the family room. A shadow in the faint light preceded the unexpected visitor. Then a figure was in the doorway.

It was a man. Julie prepared to release her scream...

And then she pulled it back. "Mr. Simmons! What are you...how did you know..."

"Hello, Julie. Imagine my surprise when I drove past a few minutes ago and one of my former students was inside this house, apparently in need of some help. I live one street over."

Tony Simmons was a history teacher at the high school Julie and Justin and Todd went to. He was somewhere around forty, ruggedly handsome and athletically built. Julie, if asked, would have to admit to several instances of fantasizing about him while alone in her bed at night.

It was only after the shock of his appearance was gone that Julie realized she was standing there with a blanket covering her shoulders and arms, but leaving her otherwise nude body fully open to his inspection. Julie turned sideways to him, holding the blanket with one bound hand against her side. That's when she noticed Tony was carrying what looked like a large, white towel.

"My stupid brother and Todd left me here. Can you get me down, please!" she pleaded.

"But you look so...cute," Tony said, approaching Julie slowly. She attempted to stay covered as much as possible under the constraints of the rope around her wrists. But she soon found that no matter how hard she tried, complete coverage of her body was not possible.

Tony realized the same thing and nonchalantly moved to a point where he could see her from the front without her being able to hide.

"Please!" Julie used the sexiest, girl-in-need voice she could muster.

"Looks to me like you could use a bathrobe," Tony said, allowing the robe in his hand to fully open as he held it to his side.

Julie's eyes widened. If she couldn't get dressed in her own clothes, the robe was the next best thing.

"I guess we'll have to let you down first," Tony said, walking behind his former student.

Julie was glad he was no longer directly in front of her, staring at her breasts and pussy as if he'd never seen a naked girl before. But then she felt the blanket being pulled off her shoulders and Julie could feel Tony's eyes on her bare back and ass.

Tony kicked the crate aside, the noise making Julie flinch with surprise. Then she heard a loud click right before she looked up to see him cutting the rope with a pocket knife.

The release of tension on her arms when the rope was sliced was one of the best feelings Julie could remember. She let her arms hang at her side and instantly felt the warmth of blood returning to her hands. Tony walked in front of her and began the process of loosening the noose around each of her wrists. Eventually, she was free.

Tony pointed to the robe beside her. "Put it on. We're going for a short walk."

Julie quickly put on the robe and tied it tightly around her waist. "What about my clothes?"

"Bring them with you. C'mon." Tony headed for the back door of the house while Julie hastily picked up her clothes and ran to catch up with him. "We'll cut through the yards. I'm right over there."

Tony pointed to a large house a couple of houses away. Julie had no choice but to walk out into the late evening gloom and tag along with the man who set her free. The robe was short, barely reaching the top of her knees, and the cool air could be felt on every inch of her body. But it beat hanging from ropes in an empty house.

Luckily, the sod was down in Todd's new back yard and Julie's bare feet got a break. A few minutes later Julie and Tony were approaching his back door, Julie still apprehensive about the neighbors and what they might have seen. But Tony seemed unconcerned and, with a slight smile, opened the door to let Julie in.

She eagerly entered the house and stood to the side while Tony locked the back door behind them.

"Come on in," Tony said as if Julie was an expected guest at a party.

She followed him through a couple rooms and down a long hallway, admiring the artwork and expensive furnishings the best she could at their swift pace. Tony led her into a spacious living area filled with long couches, tables and bookshelves. Nearly everything in the room was fancier than anything she'd experienced in the past. Only for a second did she have time to wonder how a high school teacher could afford it.

Then Tony said, "Lay your clothes over there."

He pointed to a high-backed chair in the corner. Julie put the clothes down and turned to face him for more 'instructions.' She felt totally helpless again despite being in better surroundings.

"Have a seat," Tony said. Julie picked out the couch closest to her and plopped down, tugging at the robe to cover as much of her thighs as possible. "I'll be right back."

Julie watched Tony walk out before letting her eyes do an inventory of the room. Nothing seemed out of place and it struck Julie that, apparently, no kids had ever been in this room. The books were mostly history related, with a few classic novels thrown in.

She was tempted to throw on her clothes...at least her panties...but found herself unable to do it. Perhaps it was the fact Tony had been her teacher once that caused his power over her to remain.

It was five minutes before Julie heard anybody returning. Even then, it was only footsteps, not voices. She looked up and saw Tony walking back into the room with a tall, stunningly gorgeous blonde woman.

They stopped before getting to Julie's couch.

"Julie, this is my wife Emma," Tony said.

Julie managed a weak 'Hi' while unconsciously capturing the full beauty of Emma's long, lean body. She wore a simple dress that highlighted every wonderful curve.

"Hi, Julie," Emma replied. "It's very nice to meet you. Tony said you were cute and he's right."

Julie smiled nervously, unsure why a woman that looked like Emma would compliment any other female.

"Thanks," she said.

"Can I get you anything to eat or drink?" Emma asked.

"No. I'm fine," Julie said. She hesitated before going on, but sensed this might be an opening for her. "I really need to head back home."

"Nonsense," Tony interjected quickly. "I haven't seen you in a couple years. I want to know how college is going. Emma, get us all something to drink."

"Be right back," Emma answered, turning gracefully and disappearing down the hall.

Tony sat in a chair opposite Julie. She was feeling more and more perplexed, wondering when and how she was going to escape her new 'prison'. But if she was going to be stuck somewhere, having it be with the handsome teacher of her teenage dreams wasn't all that bad.

"So, how did your first quarter at school go?" Tony asked.

Julie fidgeted with her robe while spending the next several minutes going over her schedule, the campus, social life and anything else that came to her mind. Tony listened intently and asked a couple questions. Julie was feeling a little more relaxed about the time Emma brought them each a large glass of wine.

Emma sat on the couch next to Julie; close, but not uncomfortably so. They all took a drink and Tony brought the conversation back to high school days and some of Julie's friends.

"It'll be great having Todd and his family so close," Tony said. "He's a good kid."

Julie's mind flashed back to earlier in the evening when Todd and her brother were involved in one of the stranger sexual experiences of her young life. Good kid? she thought. Good fuck, maybe.

They chatted and talked for almost half an hour. Then Tony said, "Julie, I guess I should explain why you're still here."

Julie nodded, more than willing to listen if it meant getting to go home.

"Emma and I have a great relationship. We'd do anything for each other," Tony said, looking at his wife lovingly. "Every time she sees some of the girls in my class she says, 'You're so lucky having all those beautiful young girls around.' Well, the more we talked about it the more she admitted that she wanted to do more than meet one of you. Of course, I couldn't ask one of my current students to come over, so it had to be somebody who already graduated. When I saw you over at Todd's new place, in your 'predicament', I decided to rescue you."

He only paused to take a sip of wine. "Julie, I'm going to take you home tonight. But first, I'd like to offer you an opportunity of a lifetime. I want you to experience something only a thirty-five year old woman like Emma can give you—total sexual fulfillment. I don't know what happened to you earlier tonight, but it can't possibly compare with what Emma can give you."

Despite the shock of what Julie was hearing, her pussy was responding in the most positive way. Julie remembered the sex she had with her mother the night she discovered her Mom and Todd fucking. She looked over at Emma for the first time since Tony started talking and looked into her soft blue eyes. The tingle the deep inside her pussy grew in intensity.

"You want us to have sex?" Julie asked, knowing it was a dim-witted question but unsure what else to say.

"Yes. I'll be here as well," Tony added.

Julie shifted on the cushion. "Then you'll take me home?"

Tony's heart raced at the indication she was agreeable. "Yes. I promise."

Julie followed Emma's long legs up to the bottom of her dress, envious of the silky smooth thighs on a woman almost twice her age. Her eyes traveled farther up to the seemingly full breasts pressing against the top of Emma's dress. Just a hint of cleavage showed in the v-neck opening.

"Alright."

Emma broke out in a huge grin when Julie uttered the word. She looked over at Tony.

"Good girl, Julie. Why don't you stand up and take off that robe so Emma can see how beautiful you really are," Tony said.

As she stood, Julie gained SOME satisfaction in knowing she was doing this voluntarily, unlike the incident inside Todd's house. She'd also be excited about showing herself off to Tony, except that he'd already seen as much of her as you could possibly see.

Still, Julie felt a quiver of exhilaration as she untied the belt around her robe. She was facing Emma, just a couple feet in front of her. Julie let the robe hang open for a moment, and then began to slide it off her shoulders. Soon, she was once again naked.

Julie tossed the robe onto the couch where she had been sitting and stood at attention for Emma's inspection.

"Turn around," Emma said calmly.

Julie faced Tony, who was smiling as broadly as Julie had ever seen him smile. When he signaled for her to turn back around, Julie obeyed.

"You're gorgeous," Emma said, looking Julie in the eyes before peering once more at her youthful body.

After a few seconds, Emma stood directly in front of Julie. "Undress me, please."

Before Julie could move, Emma was pulling down the zipper at the back of her dress. Once she dropped her arms, Julie took hold of the top of the dress and pulled each side down Emma's arms. A pair of full, firm breasts appeared as Julie lowered the dress. Below that, a red thong covered Emma's pussy. As soon as Julie put the dress on the couch, she reached for the thong and quickly took it off.

Emma's pussy was neatly shaven with the faintest hint of fine, blonde hair above her clit. Julie found herself wanting to taste her new friend, but decided to continue playing the 'slave' role.

"Stand up, Julie," Emma said. "I want to touch that marvelous body."

Julie's desire to get right to Emma's pussy was frustrated by the command. But Julie quickly forgave her when Emma's hands began skimming back and forth across her breasts. Julie had no way of knowing how often Emma had been with another woman, but she sensed this was a first for her.

Emma's fingers were delicate in their probing, as if not wanting to break anything. Then the pressure increased until she was cupping Julie's breasts and squeezing a little tighter. Julie's mouth opened a crack as the stimulation of her nipples continued. Her breathing quickened and a shudder ran through her body.

"Lick them, Emma. Please."

As soon as the words left her mouth, Julie realized it might have been a mistake. But her lust out-dueled her logic. Much to her relief, Tony was silent and Emma began to do just as Julie had asked.

Emma put one hand under a breast and leaned forward until her lips could lightly kiss Julie's nipple. Emma's tongue slipped out and stabbed at the bright pink bud. Then Emma opened her mouth and slowly put the breast inside, licking the nipple and tenderly biting down on it.

Julie's moan caused Emma to increase the attention she paid to the aroused breast. With more and more vigor, she sucked and licked the soft skin. Emma's hand moved behind Julie and landed on her ass. Their lower bodies came together as Emma continued to suck on the breast.

The next time Julie opened her eyes, Emma said, "I think he likes you."

Emma motioned for Julie to look behind her. Julie swiveled her head and saw Tony stroking a very hard erection. He had pulled the cock through his open zipper and was reclining in his chair comfortably. A smile of approval told the girls to return to what they were doing.

"Let me taste your tits, Emma. I want you to feel what I'm feeling."

Emma eagerly allowed the teenager to spend the next several minutes attending to her breasts. Julie's hand intuitively fell between Emma's legs and searched out the clit. By the time Julie was done, Emma was on the verge of cumming.

Emma fell back onto the couch, much to Julie's initial disappointment. But when Emma sat there and spread her legs, Julie smiled at the invitation and dropped to her knees.

Julie methodically kissed her way up the inside of Emma's thighs. She could smell the sweet scent of Emma's sex the closer she got to Emma's pussy. It was tempting to dive right in and bring Emma to a fast orgasm. But Julie decided to tease her as long as she could.

She let her tongue finally make contact with the opening to Emma's vagina. Julie separated the damp folds of skin and probed the hole, but purposely left Emma wanting more. After a minute or two, Julie moved up until feeling the nub of Emma's clit on the tip of her tongue.

Emma pushed her hips forward in an attempt to get Julie to apply more pressure. Instead, Julie simply flicked at the clit and taunted it with her lips.

"Tell me what you want," Julie said with a fresh sense of control.

"That. I want you to keep doing that," Emma said in an unsteady voice.

Julie smiled and continued her restrained attack on the pussy. Emma's ass was off the couch and Julie placed her hands underneath, pulling Emma closer. She could see Emma playing with her nipples, tugging on them each time Julie licked her clit.

"Harder! Please lick me harder," Emma begged.

"Will you cum for me?" Julie asked after applying slightly more pressure to the clit.

"Yes! God, yes!"

Julie inched forward, ready for the final assault. She wrapped her lips around Emma's clit and licked it and sucked it as hard as she could without hurting Emma.

"Ohhhhhh, God. Yessss!"

Julie gripped Emma's ass tightly, feeling the soft skin collect within her palms. She pushed down with her mouth until she thought she'd swallow the swollen clit. Emma's cries grew louder and more frequent as her body stiffened.

Julie moved her face down and thrust her tongue deep inside Emma, causing the woman to begin moving her body up and down as though it was a cock that had been inserted inside her. Julie let Emma fuck her face for a moment, then returned to the clit.

That was all Emma needed to climax.

"Now! Now! I'm...cumming."

With a violent jerk of her body, Emma began to cum. Julie hung on the best she could to the shifting target of Emma's pussy. Every now and then she made good contact with the clit and Emma shouted out with pleasure. Julie could feel the juices collecting on her chin as the orgasm continued.

Tony was only occasionally stroking his cock now, not wanting to cum too soon. He'd seen his wife's naked body many times before, so he concentrated mostly on Julie's tight ass and the breasts hanging from her chest. Precum oozed from the tip of his cock and Tony fought the urge to cum.

Emma's moans subsided slowly, as did Julie's licking and sucking. When Emma tried to pull away from her, the teenager knew enough to quit. Julie slinked her way up Emma's body until reaching her tits. There, she licked the nipples that she saw Emma playing with earlier. Emma leaned back on the couch, totally exhausted.

Julie had almost forgotten about Tony until she heard him rustling behind her. Then she heard him say, "Roll over, Julie."

Julie spun off of Emma and ended up sitting next to her, facing Tony. He was naked from the waist down. Julie stared at the hard cock pointing up from between his legs, red from his recent rubbing of it. She felt a rush of excitement. Julie hadn't paid much attention to her own horniness...until now.

Tony approached her and slipped between her legs. Tony leaned down and grabbed Julie by the hips, sliding her down the couch until her pussy was directly in front of his throbbing cock. Julie gladly let him do whatever he wanted as long it resulted in that cock fucking her.

Luckily, Tony had the same thing in mind. Once he had lifted her high enough to let him put his cock at the entrance to her pussy, he eased forward and watched his cock begin to disappear. Julie clung to the cushion as Tony drove his cock deeper and deeper inside her.

When his balls touched her, Tony began to fuck her in earnest. Julie tightened her cunt around the huge cock. She was no longer lying in her bed imagining the good looking teacher fucking her—she was living it.

To her surprise and delight, Emma leaned over and began sucking on her breast. Then Emma put a hand on Julie's clit and combined her licking and fingering with incredible skill. Julie's body burst with sensations she'd never felt before, bringing her ever closer to an orgasm.

Soon, Julie realized she could hold it back no longer. She cried out and held on. Rush after rush of pleasure flowed through her pussy as Tony pounded her even harder and faster. Emma bit her nipples and new waves flowed from Julie's chest to her cunt.


Rescued



When she was done and collapsed on the couch, Julie felt Tony pull out. She watched him masturbate for a second, then gazed at the long, white streams of cum that began to cover her stomach and pussy. His grunts were only exceeded by the size of the pools of cum that resulted from his multiple orgasms.

"God, you're good," Emma whispered to Julie as Tony finished.

###

Justin looked at his cell phone as it vibrated. He recognized the name and smiled.

"Hey."

"Hey, Justin."

Julie's older brother rolled onto his back on the bed and said, "So. How'd it go?"

"Just like you said it would," Tony answered. "She was in the house. She gladly followed me out. Emma loved her and, um, I loved her."

"Good," Justin said.

"I guess I have to pay up. But it was worth it. Emma was in heaven and still hasn't stopped talking about it."

"Just so we're straight—the deal was I get Emma, right?" Justin asked.

"You got it. Tell me when you're ready and I'll set it up," Tony said.

Justin felt his cock harden at the thought. He'd seen his former high school teacher's wife only once, but wanted her ever since. When he realized Julie would be 'incapacitated' inside Todd's house and would need to be rescued, the plan of exchanging Tony's access to Julie for Justin's access to Emma sounded fair.

"Will she know about this one in advance?" Justin asked.

"Not this time. I thought telling her about Julie was the way to go, and she was really excited about that. But this one should be a surprise, I think," Tony said. "If I set it up right, I think she'll enjoy it. She's talked about wanting to do one of my male students for a long time. This is as close as she's ever going to get—legally."

Justin wasn't always happy about being twenty, but this time it paid off.

"OK. I'll try not to disappoint her."

Tony laughed. "I'm sure you won't. Your family seems to know how to do sex pretty well."

It was another week before Justin heard back from Tony. The plan was all set: Tony and Emma would be at the high school cleaning up Tony's classroom. Tony promised they would have total privacy. All Justin had to do was show up, treat Emma right and she'd be putty in his hands.

Tony chose a night that other activities were going on in the school, so it was easy for Justin to enter and head for the second floor without raising suspicion. Justin walked down the long hallway, the only sound coming from his sneakers. More importantly, the only light he saw came from Tony's classroom. Justin grew more nervous the closer he got, but it was a good nervousness.

When Justin got to the half-opened door, he peeked in and saw Tony carrying a box. At the other end of the room was Emma, reaching into a bookshelf. She wore a short tank top and jeans. Even from this distance, Justin could see the beauty of the woman. Her body, hair and face were all better than he had remembered.

Tony saw his former student and said, "Hey, Justin. Come on in."

Justin walked over and shook Tony's hand. "How's it going, Mr. Simmons?"

"You can call me Tony now, Justin. Graduates earn that right. So how's college?"

"Going great so far," Justin said, catching a glimpse of Emma in the back of the room whenever he could. "Almost half way done."

"Great. Hey, I want you to meet somebody," Tony said, motioning for Justin to follow him as he headed towards Emma. "This is my wife, Emma. This is Justin...one of my best students ever. He's Julie's brother."

Emma's eyes widened as she nodded in acknowledgement of Justin. "Julie's brother? Really?"

"You know Julie?" Justin asked, acting as surprised as he could.

"Uh...um...yeah. We met the other day," Emma stammered, clearly unsure how to address the how and where.

Justin smiled, sensing Emma's discomfort and knowing full well the how, what and where. "Well, she's the cute, intelligent one in the family."

Emma looked over the young man in front of her. "Oh, I'd say it runs in the family."

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Justin asked.

Emma hesitated, and when Tony didn't answer, she said, "Yeah. I'm not sure I can reach the top of this bookshelf without standing on something. Maybe you can help with that."

"Just show me what you need," Justin said cheerfully.

Emma explained what her goal was and Justin surveyed the bookshelf. Even he couldn't reach the top, so he pulled over a chair and stepped onto it.

"Hold this thing so I don't kill myself," he told Emma.

She grabbed the back of the chair and tried to concentrate on what Justin was doing, and not the cock that was just inches from her face. She couldn't help but stare at the bulge in his jeans, just as Justin couldn't help but stare down the front of Emma's tank top when he handed books down to her. That only made him harder, which caused more gawking by Emma.

By the time Justin stepped down from the chair, they were both pretty aroused. Justin was stunned at just how much Emma reminded him of his mother. The firm breasts, tight ass and long legs could easily have been Marie's. And the memory of what Justin and Marie had done recently didn't help ease Justin's cock, which felt awfully cramped in his jeans.

They worked together for a little while longer, until they heard Tony saying he was going to get something to drink from the teacher's lounge. Emma suggested they take a break, too. She hopped onto a long, empty table, sitting on the edge.

Justin was planning his next move when Emma said, "Come here, Justin."

He approached the table and Emma slowly spread her legs. Justin took the invitation and drew near to her head on. When he was close enough, Emma reached out and touched the front of his jeans. Justin felt her fingers search out his cock.

"Ahh. There it is," Emma sighed.

Justin stood motionless as Emma rubbed him harder. He gazed at her plentiful cleavage.

"Go ahead. Touch them, Justin."

He didn't even realize she saw him looking. But now he had to. He couldn't pass up her invitation to play with the gorgeous tits.

Justin put one hand on the inside of her left breast. Then he moved his hand so it pushed the top aside and he could put his palm on the top half of her tit. Finally, he slid the hand down so it was over her nipple. Justin squeezed Emma's breast and felt his cock twitch as she clutched him tighter.

They aroused each other the best they could considering they were both dressed. Justin saw the nipple he wasn't playing with press harder against the thin fabric of Emma's top, and knew he was making progress. Emma definitely knew she was having an effect.

Without saying a word, Emma opened Justin's pants and pulled down the zipper. At the same time, Justin pulled the strap off Emma's shoulder and further exposed her tit. Just as Justin's cock emerged from under his shorts, Emma's breast was freed from her top.

"Take it off, Justin. Take off my top," Emma said with just a touch of urgency.

Justin pulled the tank top over her head and Emma quickly returned her hand to his thick cock. This time, Justin put both hands on her bare breasts and kneaded them roughly. The harder he massaged them, the harder Emma stroked his now-full erection.

If Emma had any concerns about Tony coming back, she didn't show them. She was beyond the point of simply fondling this cute guy and letting him go. She was going to have him.

"Suck my cock, Emma. I want to feel your lips around it."

Emma pushed herself off the table and sank down so her mouth was at the same level as Justin's cock. She gave it very little attention before opening her mouth and taking in nearly the entire thick shaft. She clamped her lips down and ran her tongue along the underside as she bobbed her head up and down. Justin put his hand on her blonde hair and pulled her closer, fucking her mouth with more vigor.

A few seconds later, they both stopped when the lights in the room went out. Emma and Justin looked simultaneously at the door.

"It's just me," a smiling Tony said. "Just wanted to make sure we weren't interrupted. Please continue."

With a huge sense of relief, Emma began stripping off Justin's pants and boxers. Once they were gone, she returned his cock to her mouth and brought it back to total stiffness. Justin would have been satisfied if she'd just let him cum in her mouth, but they both wanted more.

Emma rose from her kneeling position and leaned against the edge of the table. "Finish undressing me. I want you to fuck me," she told Justin.

He quickly had her tight jeans and tiny panties off. He only took a second to survey her lovely, nude body before saying, "Lean back."

She obeyed and allowed him to move between her legs. Justin positioned her just right, put his hands on her hips and prepared to drive his cock into her moist cunt. He was pleasantly surprised at the tight opening his cock was forced to penetrate. The first few slow strokes were absolute heaven. Then he held her tighter and shoved his cock in until their bodies came together.

"Oh, fuck. Harder. Harder!" Emma cried out.

Justin fucked her until the table crashed against the wall. Once that was stabilized, he continued fucking her while pulling her towards him by the back of her thighs. He felt the moisture in her cunt increasing with each passing minute. He hoped to add his cum to it soon.

"That's so good, Justin," Emma moaned.

"Better than Julie?" he asked.

"Fuck. Much better."

"Tell me what she did," Justin said.

Emma's breathing was almost frantic now. Between gasps she said, "She licked me."

"Where?"

"My pussy," Emma sighed.

"Tell me what she did?" Justin demanded, never missing a beat with his cock.

"Ahhhh. Oh, God," Emma moaned. "She...she licked me."

Justin pounded into her faster. "Where?"

Emma winced as her orgasm approached. "She put her tongue...inside me. Inside my...my pussy."

Her body stiffened.

"Then...she began to...to lick my clit. And she put...put her lips on it...and...and sucked it..."

Justin lifted her ass off the table and rammed his cock into her.

"Ahhhhh, fuck. Yes. Yesssss!"

Emma gripped the edge of the table while she came. Her cunt squeezed Justin's cock harder than at any point. Her screams filled the almost empty room.

Justin felt his own orgasm building. "Can I cum inside you?"

"Yes! Yes!"

Emma was so involved in her own incredible climax that she barely noticed Justin begin to pour load after load of warm cum into her cunt. But as she came down and Justin continued cumming inside her, she was able to enjoy the feeling of his throbbing cock erupt.

By the time they were done, perspiration had collected on Emma's beautiful brow, causing her blonde bangs to cling to her forehead. When Justin pulled out, she lay on the table exhausted.

"Better than Julie?" Justin asked.

"Oh, yeah," Emma smiled.



Rescued?



Karen Lindly sighed as she leaned back in her chair. She crossed her leg to rest her right ankle on her left knee, slipped the heeled shoe from her foot and began to rub it as she closed her eyes. She'd been working inhuman hours doing legal research for an upcoming case, and at 28 years old, was unable to pull the long hours with little or no sleep like she used to.

Karen exhaled deeply, lowering her foot back to the floor and smoothing her skirt out over her thighs. She looked around the brightly-lit floor. The law offices and cubicles of Ridley, Scott, and Brewster empty save for her. She began to gather her things, packing her expandable briefcase with papers, briefs and court documents. She glanced at her gold wristwatch and frowned when she noticed that time had once again slipped away from her. There was no way that she was going to the gym this late at night. Eleven thirty was too late to be running and doing even light sets of weights. 

Karen shook her head as she hoisted the long briefcase strap over her shoulder. She had only started helping with the research in order to impress the junior and senior partners, show them what a valuable team player she could be. Somehow she had gotten stuck with doing the majority of the grunt work.

Karen stretched her back as she double-checked her desk and made sure she was not forgetting anything. Karen ran her hands down over her jacket, smiling as the fabric was pressed smooth against her body. At least missing her workouts hadn't begun to effect her yet. Her stomach was still flat, contrasting deliciously with the swelling of her breasts and the curves of her hips. Walking and running thirty minutes a day saw to it that her legs were still well toned as well.

All in all, she thought as she strode towards the door, she was pleased with her body still. She reached up with her left hand, flicking the light switch down to kill the lights. She smiled as her wedding band and diamond glinted in the light and then disappeared along with her reflection in the window. For a second she didn't recognize herself. She found herself admiring the image of the woman in the window. Light brown curly hair that seemed to flow down to her shoulder blades. Her suit jacket accentuating her natural curves, showing the generous swelling of her breasts underneath as it flared down to her hips. Her skirt hugging her hips tightly, showing the outline of her ass, the curve of her thighs as it extending down to just above her knees. The beige pantyhose underneath doing their best to massage her legs with energy, she was able to feel her thighs as the muscles tensed underneath the thin fabric, her calves as she moved her feet.

She knew her husband was still pleased with her body. He proved it every chance he could get, and he had lately been dropping hints about having a child. Karen really wanted to make junior partner first, before the added responsibility of children was added to her load. Hopefully after this case, about six more months. 

Karen shifted her feet as she waited for the elevator. She got on and pressed the button to take her to the top level of the parking garage. Since I'm not working out today, she thought, at least I can walk down the two flights of stairs to my level. Her hand unconsciously went to the top of her briefcase, to the zipper pocket that contained her cell phone and the can of mace. Her fingers rested lightly on the can of mace as the elevator doors opened. Karen glanced out, then walking to the enclosed staircase. Though she wasn't really worried, she had heard enough stories that she preferred to be cautious.

She approached the staircase door, the small wire mesh window in the center of the door was dark, but Karen didn't notice that as she glanced at a nearby shadowed alcove. Walking quickly, she opened the door and stepped through, her right heel clicking on the concrete.

Karen gasped lightly as she felt a hand close tightly over her right wrist, pulling it away from her briefcase and her further through the door and onto the landing at the top of the stairwell. The hand kept a grip of her wrist, turning her around, twisting her right arm behind her back. She opened her mouth to yell, to shout for help, when she felt a rough hand clamp over her mouth. She was pulled back against an obviously male body, her arm across his stomach and her back against his chest, as it registered to her that this level of the stairwell was pitch black.

The man behind her shifted his weight, his foot moving to push the stairwell door closed, extinguishing the last beam of light into the stairwell.

Karen felt the man behind her, pushing her forward, walking her forward with his body against hers, until she felt the iron bars of the protective railing pressing against her, the uppermost one against her stomach.

Karen's mind was in a haze of urgency and panic. Who was this! Omigod, what were they doing! 

As she felt the cool bars of the railing pressed against her stomach, waist and thighs, her instincts began to respond. She wanted to rake his shin with her foot, spear the top of his foot with her heel…but her ankle was pinned by his foot and one of the vertical bars of the railing. Bite! she thought. 

Karen opened her mouth, prepared to feel his fingers – and hopefully blood - between her teeth, when she suddenly felt his breath in her ear, and heard him whispering softly to her.

"Stop struggling, we can't afford to make any noise. We're not alone here….listen." The man's voice in her ear then fell silent.

His quiet words stopped her for several seconds. Enough time for Karen to realize that something was very wrong this evening.

The stairwell extended below her into the lowest level of the parking garage, eight flights down. Karen was slow to realize through her initial panic that most of the lights in the stairwell were out, except for the lights on what looked to be about the fourth floor. The light was bleeding up from that level as Karen's eyes slowly began to adjust. She was blinded, though, to the levels below the fourth floor, as anyone below the fourth floor would be blinded to the levels above the fourth floor.

And there was someone down there.

Karen could hear it now, sounds that she couldn't make out before due to the pounding of her heart in her ears. But the sounds….what?

The man kept her pressed against the railing for what seemed like an eternity, but was in reality less than a minute, as Karen slowly began to recognize the sounds. As she did, she thought of her cell phone and mace in her purse which was not trapped by her right arm. 

The sounds that drifted up from below, from what seemed like the lower-most level, were haunting. She could hear the heavy breathing of exertion mixed with the deep voiced orders being given by different male voices. But the most haunting sounds were female. 

It sounded like two different women. Two different voices whimpering, pleading with the males to be left alone. A shrill, panicked voice asking "Why, why?" And then the disturbing sounds of a body being pushed, the smack of an open hand landing on bare skin, a muffled shriek and groan as the pleading was cut off in mid sentence.

Karen then heard the voice whispering in her ear again. 

"I noticed them earlier. I don't know how many there are. Looked like gangbangers. I think this is their initiation. Be very, very quiet."

Karen felt her heart lurch. Maybe she wasn't being attacked, she was being saved! This man was keeping her from being raped by the gang below, from becoming part of their initiation ceremony. Hope began to grow, filling her. This man would let her call the police, they could get help for those poor women below.

The hope Karen felt began to crystallize into energy, the desire to do something to help. That desire intensified when she heard a plaintive wail from below… "Noooo." Followed by the sound of clothes ripping and crude male laughter.

Karen then heard the man's voice back in her ear….."Lucky thing you came in at my level. I think you'll like me much better than that gang of animals. If you cooperate with me, you'll walk out of here, healthy and unhurt. If you fight me or make too much noise…." Karen's hope shattered. It transformed suddenly into the weight of cold lead, threatening to bring her to tears as it sunk from her throat to the pit of her belly.

Her attention was brought back to the man behind her. She could feel his body pressed against the length of her, pressing her against the bars. My god….he was hard. This man was only rescuing her from the gang, so he could use her instead. Karen's mind raced in desperation, unable to come up with a solution as the man pressed against her, his bulging erection against her ass.

The man let go of her right arm, keeping it pinned across her back with his body weight. He reached up and moved the strap of her purse down off her shoulder, leaning back and loosing the pressure on her arm as he pulled the purse swiftly down. Karen didn't think it was possible, but her heart sank another notch. He had taken her purse – her last chance of safety – from her. The man lowered it to the floor and kicked it back behind him, sliding it across the floor out of her reach.

Karen tried not to groan as she felt the blood rush back to her arm. She gripped the top vertical rail with her hands, thinking frantically of a way out of this.

The man took his hand from her mouth….whispered "Ssshhh" in her ear as his hands moved down over the lapels of her jacket, finding the two buttons, popping them loose and letting her jacket hang open.

As if to make it clear to her that her choices were limited, sounds began to again drift up from below. The sound of flesh making contact with the concrete – a woman being forced to her knees hard – a sharp smack, like a gunshot in the darkness. Laughter from the men. Comments began to drift up as the activity downstairs picked up in pace.

"Yeah, spank that bitch's ass, make her cry, turn that lily white ass all red."

"I've always wanted to cum on a Spanish chick, I want that one first."

Karen gasped. One reason was because the man behind her had cupped her breasts. His hands had moved underneath her jacket to find her breasts. He cupped them, squeezed them as he felt her nipples poking out hard from the fear and adrenaline she had been experiencing. The other reason – those voices! Karen knew those women downstairs. The sounds of their voices as they pled for mercy, as they cried out in shock. She recognized them. The 'white' woman was Stacy, a secretary at another law office on the fifth floor that Karen dealt with frequently. Karen's heart broke for her. Stacy was 24, very pretty, married and four months pregnant. To hear her being used this way….tore her heart apart, and at the same time, made her experience a heaviness deep in her belly. A heaviness surrounded by heat, that seemed to spread and radiate deeper, lower into her body. The other woman she thought, was Mya. She didn't know her as well, but had seen her working in an Investment brokerage on the seventh floor.

Karen's face burned with shame as the man found her nipples and began rolling them between his fingers. Karen was forced to listen to the women's violation, even as her body was violated.

The man moved his hands down from her breasts and over her flat stomach, much as hers had done earlier in the evening. Over her hips, down over her thighs, feeling her muscles clench in protest. A mewling sound rose almost inaudibly from her throat as she felt the man's hands moving up, raising her skirt as he did so. The man didn't stop until her skirt had been raised above her waist, bunched around the tails of her white dress shirt, the man's knuckles moving over her slick pantyhose as he raised her skirt.

The man's hands moved down over Karen's waist, and over the curve of her hips. His hands moved around the outside of her thighs to the rear of her legs, his hands eventually moved to where he could feel the swelling of her buttocks.

Karen grasped the railing tighter, her knuckles turning white. She could feel the man's fingers, pinching her as he attempted to grab hold of her pantyhose. He finally succeeded, tenting a bit of the fabric. The man paused, and then she could hear the tiny pop, her pantyhose parting as the man tore a small hole in them, his fingers moving through. She could feel his finger against her ass, another finger as he widened the hole. A soft whisper of a tear as he moved both hands under her pantyhose. Parting them in a wide rift, until there was a hole that extended from the waistband of her pantyhose, near the small of her back, down to her inner thighs.

Karen stifled a gasp as she felt an inrush of the cooler air in the stairwell against her skin. She cursed silently as the sensation of the air, the man's fingers against her skin as he widened the opening for his purposes, and the sounds from below, began to work on her. The heavy, hot feeling in the pit of her stomach had spread. It felt like a thick puddle that had settled just below her breasts and which extended down, down past her navel….Karen refused to acknowledge it further.

Karen bit her lip as the man's fingers curled underneath the fabric of her panties. His fingers sliding underneath the elastic, the back of his fingers grazing across her ass….and deeper, lower. Karen tensed the muscles of her thighs, her buttocks tightening as well, trying to deny the man any touch of what was between her legs. 

She swallowed a whimper when she was unsuccessful. The man slid his fingers down underneath the crotch of her panties, his fingertips moved over the lips of her pussy as he pulled her panties away from her skin. The touch of his fingers caused that heavy, hot feeling to move a bit lower in her body. Karen tried to shut off her mind from the experience as the sensation settled just over her mons.

Karen's attention was suddenly transferred from her own predicament, as she heard the unmistakable sound of a zipper being lowered. It took her a second to realize that the man's hands were still on her body, and that the sound must have carried up from downstairs. The sound of laughter followed, and a soft, smacking sound that she did not recognize. It was made evident to her shortly by the crude comments that followed.

"Yuppie bitch, you've never been dick smacked before have you? Hold her head still as I slap her with my cock. Open up wide, bitch."

A wail, "nooo" , cut off sharply and turned into a muffled groan, followed by a wet, gagging sound several seconds later.

"Not used to that much cock are you? Haven't had the cock of a real man. Too bad you can't have a real man's baby, but maybe we can help your friend out with that."

A frantic wail and the sounds of scrabbling, as if someone had tried to get away. The thud of a body being forced to the ground. The sharp sound of a slap. A hard grunt of pain and denial as the softer sound of a man's body on top of a female's, the softer slap of skin against skin.

Karen drew her attention back to herself. She realized in a start of fear that the man had worked her panties down inside her pantyhose. The hose ripped open down to her knees, her panties lowered to the middle of her thighs.

Karen looked around in a burst of fear and panic. Her phone and mace in her purse just feet away from her….but might as well have been a mile. The light from a few floors down beckoned with the empty promise of a safe haven.

Breath in her ear and a last whisper, "Remember, be very quiet." 

Karen then felt the man's body behind her, pressed against her, moving.

Down?

What? Yes, she could feel his body as it slid down over hers. He kept a hold of her hips, movement down the backs of her thighs as the man sunk to a crouching position behind her. His hands moved to cup her ass, and squeezed. His thumbs between her legs, he pulled her lips apart, spread her as he squeezed her ass.  

Karen's mind raced in confusion. What was he doing?

Her body jumped with tension as she felt warm breath, the same breath that had been near her ear, playing over her pussy, now spread open wide by the man's hands.

The man reached up with one hand, moved it over the top of Karen's as she gripped the railing. He loosened her fingers, and then drew her hand down to the middle bar of the railing, causing Karen to bend over the railing to grasp the bar. He then switched hands, moving his left back to spread her, and his right up to repeat the movement with her other hand. Karen could feel the cool metal of the top bar through her shirt as she was forced to bend over the railing. Her hands grasping the middle bar as she was forced to rise up onto her tiptoes. Her head hanging out over the railing, staring down into the mass of light and darkness beyond.

Karen immediately realized her vulnerability. Shamed to admit her helplessness, as well as a deeper shame building within her, one she would not admit yet.

Karen suddenly grasped the bar with enough force that her fingers cramped. Her entire body tensed, her muscles tightened as she felt a stab of pleasure, surprising her with its intensity. Her reaction caused by the soft, wet touch of the man's tongue as it slid against her, slid over her pussy as she was bent over the railing. The man had her ass and pussy spread wide with his strong hands as her began to work his tongue over her pussy. He licked her, tasted her, as his tongue probed inside her, then began to move over her again in long strokes. She could feel the man's head against her thighs as he turned, repositioned so as to sink a little lower. His tongue moving down, teasing, finally gliding over her clit.

Karen jerked as if electrified. Shame spread a blush across her face and chest. This is not, cannot, be happening she thought. She tried to force the sensations, her body's reactions, away from her. She tried desperately to deny them existence by refusing to acknowledge them.

And then several things fell into place, all at the same time:

From below: the sounds of skin smacking against wet skin, the muffled crying and pleading of the two women as they were used by the men. "Oh gawd, I never knew a pregnant bitch would have a pussy so tight. I'm gonna give you twins baby."

From the man: his hands spread her ass and pussy, his thumbs pulled her lips apart before slowly pushing into her. His tongue having served to start her juices flowing, his thumbs wet as they pushed their way in. The feel of the man's tongue as he pushed more forcefully against her clit, licked around it in circles, then over it, flicked it with his tongue before he once again settled his tongue directly on it to stimulate her.

From Karen: that heavy, hot feeling had spread and was perfectly centered in her pussy. Her clit throbbed, her thighs grow warm with the heat and the realization. Gawd, I cannot be turned on by this she thought. Karen then realized that she had involuntarily lifted up on her toes and spread her legs even more wide, granting the man greater access to her pussy. Her hands white knuckled on the railing as she put more of her weight there, she transferred her weight from her feet to her hands and her body on the top bar.

A blush of shame and ….acceptance….swept over Karen. Her breathing had grown quicker, more shallow. There was a fine line of sweat on her upper lip and brow. Karen knew her pussy was wet, she could feel her juices slide slowly down her inner thigh. The heavy, hot feeling grew. It wasn't spreading anymore, it just grew, concentrated near her pussy and clit as the man's mouth and fingers worked over her. 

Karen was enjoying this. Her reluctance, her denial and self-restraint snapped as she admitted it to herself and what had caused her arousal. The whole situation working in an impossible manner to excite her and bring her to a state of frenzied lust. What kind of woman am I? To be getting off on having a total stranger use me while listening to the rape of two other women….friends of mine? Oh gawd, it's so goood, though. Karen's thoughts ran rampant as her mind began to respond along with her body.




Rescued?



Her breath came in short pants as she leaned more into the bar, her toes almost left the floor altogether, her legs spread as wide as she could get them in order to grant the man the most access to her sopping wet pussy. Her hips moved up and down, trying to gain even more sensation, trying desperately to fuck the man's face as he licked and ate her pussy. Karen arched her back as she felt the man moving a finger over her ass, pressing against her. She had to consciously try not to say anything or make any noise, she grit her teeth as his finger, wet from her pussy, pushed slowly into her ass.

Karen moved her hips, encouraged the man's finger in deeper, trying to relieve the burning sensation and replace it with a sensation that didn't threaten to make her yelp with pain, as she felt a pool of heat that began to build in her thighs. The heat built, it crawled up her thighs as the man's tongue worked over her clit, his finger deep in her ass, the burning now replaced with a more full sensation, pressure against pressure. He pressed the finger in her ass down as he pressed up with his thumb in her pussy, pressing them together, rubbing them against each other through the separating wall of skin.

Karen could not contain the gasp at that point, the intake of breath and the moan that threatened to follow, as the heat now ran over her thighs and up to her pussy. The man's hand dripped with juice from her pussy as Karen felt the swell of her orgasm. The heat spread from her thighs to her belly, it spiraled upwards and grew more intense until she could not hold it anymore. The mass of heat and tension threatened to explode inside her body. Her thigh muscles tensed and then began to twitch uncontrollably as she came. The man's fingers inside of her and his tongue on her clit had moved her to a height she had not reached in a very long time. Her ass clamped on the man's finger her pussy spasmed around his thumb as he continued to work his fingers together against each other. Her hands slick with sweat as she tried to keep her grip on the bar. Her body tensed, her muscles jumped, convulsed as her orgasm ripped through and shook her to her core.

The man waited there until her body began to relax, then rose to his feet. Karen lowered herself to take more weight onto her feet. The man wiped his mouth of the wet mess that Karen had made. He lowered a wet hand onto her left hand. Fingers wet with her cum stroked her diamond ring and wedding band, coated them in her own juice.

The sound of the zipper that she heard next was definitely from the man standing behind her. 

To Karen, it sounded as loud and meaningful as the tolling of a church bell.

The hiss of the zipper brought Karen's mind to perfect clarity. Had the men downstairs heard them? Were they racing up the stairs even now? Karen felt the edge of panic bite into her, then realized she was in no danger from the men below…. yet. Karen repositioned her feet, stepped out of her shoes for fear of her heels clicking on the concrete.

Laughter from the darkness. "Damn, I don't think I've ever cum so hard inside a woman before."

"Get that other slut over here to clean this one out. I've never fucked a pregnant pussy before, and I want this one clean."

Karen ducked her head and the veins in her neck stood out, as she tried to swallow the moan that was threatening to escape. She felt the man's hand under her left knee. She followed the pressure of his hand as he pressed up, she picked her left foot up until her foot rested on the middle bar of the railing. The man's hands once again grabbed her, spread her as she felt him bend down a little lower. A gasp escaped her lips as she felt the hard head of his cock press against her. Karen bit her lip, trying to keep the anticipation, the pleasure, quietly inside her as she felt that hard cock head slide easily into her wet pussy.

The man's hands gripped her waist, he grabbed her tightly as he held his cock just inside her pussy. Karen shifted her right foot and felt a puddle of wetness. Another blush of shame washed over her as she realized that it could only be from her pussy dripping as the man ate her to her orgasm. Had she really cum that hard?

Karen's lip began to bleed she bit it so hard, but she was not able to stop the primal groan that rose from deep within her as the man slowly, easily slid the length of his cock inside her. 

Luckily, the sounds of sex from the stairwell below drowned out her groan. The sound of the women being fucked, spanked, gagging as they were forced to give head and swallow cum, the laughter of the men as the women were degraded and used, all drowned out Karen's acceptance of her place.

A woman from below groaned, Karen thought it sounded like Stacy. This groan, though, had more of a whimper to it, more of a longing. There was less pain to this moan and more of an impression of pleasure with more to come. Karen's impression was confirmed when she heard a man…."Damn! This blonde bitch just pushed back against me, she's starting to fuck me! Hey! This whore likes it!" Karen then heard the movement of bodies, presumably other men moving towards Stacy, to add to her pleasure as well as their own.

Karen stared blindly into the black void below her as she tried to imagine what caused the sounds she heard. A wet popping sound as the man with his cock in Stacy's mouth pulled out. Wet smacks as he slapped her face with it, his hand in her hair as she grunted from his pulling her head back as she was fucked from behind. Karen could picture her pregnant belly and heavier breasts swinging pendulously with the movement. The thought made Karen arch her back as she allowed the man deeper inside of her, wanting it all now.

"Look at her face, man, I think you're right. You want to cum baby? You want to be fucked by some big cocks and cum like you never could for your husband? Ask me for it, then slut, beg for it." 

Karen's heart almost stopped when she heard Stacy's voice next, tears and lust both evident in her tone. "Oh gawd, yes, please….please fuck me. Fuck me hard I'm so….ungh…..so close, let me cum for you, let your whore cum for you."

"Stacy! No, don't let them…." Mya's voice, full of shock and denial, rose in the darkness before she began gagging on another cock forced down her throat.

Karen swallowed the moan that rose up from deep inside her and arched her back, tiltedher hips so as to provide the man behind her with easier access to her now soaking wet pussy. Stacy's words echoed in her mind as she tried not to repeat them herself. The feel of his cock inside her re-igniting the heat that he had built up with his mouth. Karen pressed herself down against the top bar, enjoying the feel of the cool metal against the undersides of her breasts as the man began to move. Her breasts swinging with the thrusting of the man, bumping into the bar as she pushed back with her hips to meet him. She was almost unable to believe how good he felt, filling her with each stroke. 

Karen could feel the man leaning into her, the length of his body against her back as he hunched his hips, burying his cock in her, his face near the back of her head. The man's voice, not as smooth as before, cracking now with breathlessness and passion. "The next time we meet, Mrs. Lindly, you'll be begging for my cock just like Stacy was doing. I think you are both finding out what whores you really are, what sluts you want to be." His voice still soft, was meant only for her ears.

Karen's shock at the man's words charged her with lust and eroticism. This man called her by her name?! This man knew her?! She grabbed the bar tighter, heard the tiny clink of her wedding ring against the metal as she tried to get better leverage so she could fuck back against the pseudo - stranger behind her.

Karen could feel the ball of heat building again in her belly. She knew she was going to cum again. This time being fucked from behind by a faceless man that knew her…someone at work? In a different office? She felt like such a slut, reacting like this to him, so ashamed – yet so excited.

Karen closed her eyes, she pushed back with her left foot against the bar, pushed back against the cock that filled her so wonderfully. The man breathed harder now, panted as he fucked her. She could feel his tempo speed up, his thrusts becoming harder. She knew he must be getting close, and she could feel her orgasm build within her as well.

Karen jumped, shocked, as the entire stairwell was flooded with light. Doors on the lower floor banged open. Voices shouting: "Let me see your hands! On the ground now!"

Karen looked down the stairwell, her orgasm built inside of her, unstoppable now, though she was unable to move or speak as she took in the scene below. Police had flooded the lowest level where the men and women were. Mya, the Hispanic lady, was bent over a railing much as Karen was, only she did not appear to be have enjoyed herself nearly as much. A grimace of pain was on her face, her ass and breasts were red from being slapped and her body was covered with still dripping cum.

Stacy, the white woman, was on her hands and knees. A man was behind her, face frozen in surprise as his cock was buried in her ass. Another man was in front of her fucking her face, pulling on her breasts as he did so. Stacy's hair was dripping with cum and she appeared to have been used by more of the men than Mya was. The most shocking thing about Stacy, though, was the expression on her face. Pure animal lust and enjoyment, almost a hint of disappointment as it registered to her what was happening, that she was rescued and would not be fucked anymore tonight.

The police spread out across the perimeter of the room. All escape routes were blocked as they began to enter the room more deeply. The men forced to the ground and handcuffed. Mya sobbed as she ran to Stacy. Mya hugged her and pulled her to a nearby corner where they could crouch in safety. They held onto each other, unmindful of their nudity or the slick cum that covered each of them.

Karen's felt an intense rush of pleaure. The orgasm blindly ripped through her body again. Unable to control it or stop it, she felt herself lose control and cum on the hard cock buried inside of her. On the wings of her orgasm rode a thread of fear. Fear that she would be found out, and that the women would hate her for having given in and enjoyed herself, for having orgasmed – not once, but twice now – as they were being used so badly.

Karen's body shook as she reached back, her hand blindly grabbing the man's hip and pulling him into her deeper. Her pleasure intensifying as she felt the hard cock inside her actually swell to a larger size. Her pussy clenching, spasming as the hard cock buried deep inside of her began to jerk and pulse. Jets of warm cum spurting inside of her, filling her. Karen's orgasm rode another wave of pleasure as she felt the warm fluid almost splash against the inside of her pussy, the hard cock again moving as the man fucked her to his conclusion. The man grabbed Karen's hip, pulling her back once as he pushed his cock deep inside her, holding it there as the last of his cum spurted into her. His chest heaved, a deep sigh as his orgasm left him. Karen jerked twice more, hit by aftershocks of pleasure, moving through her like electricity.

The man pulled back and away from her. She could feel his cum, mixed with her own juices, running down the insides of her thighs. The man reached around, took her left hand by the wrist, and moved it down to the inside of her thigh. Guiding her hand through the mixture of cum, moving her hand between her legs, his voice in her ear steadier now that he was not exerting himself fucking her…"I want one finger inside that sloppy cunt for each orgasm you had tonight." His fingers pressed against the backs of hers. Karen closed her eyes, feeling the humiliation as she slid two fingers into her own pussy. Her middle finger and ring finger disappeared between her legs. Karen moaned with that mix of shame and excitement as her fingers slid inside her pussy, feeling the wet, slick cum inside of her. The man pulled on her wrist, guided her hand out and up to hold it before her face. Karen looked down at her hand, her slim fingers shaking, cum dripping off of her wedding ring and diamond. The man guided them closer to her face, pressed them against her mouth. A smile in his voice…."Kiss those rings and clean them up before you go home to your loving husband. The kiss is for me, by the way, a promise to your second 'husband'." Butterflies of shame assailed Karen as she kissed her rings, feeling the sloppy mess smear across her lips. Karen then parted her lips, taking the cum-soaked fingers and rings into her mouth, licking them clean and swallowing the whole mess.

Karen suddenly stumbled back away from the railing. The man's support had disappeared. She turned in time to see the flash of an unfamiliar, smiling face as the man moved quickly out through the door and into the upper level of the parking garage. The image of him, half turned towards her as he went through the doorway, was frozen in her mind. A young man, early twenties, clean shaven and athletic looking. A smile on his face and – was that a wink? – his clothes disheveled, his hand holding his pants up at the front as left quickly. 

Karen heard the policemen downstairs, moving up through the levels as they searched the rest of the stairwell.

Her hands shaking, a blush of shame covering her from head to toe, Karen gathered her things, her purse and the scraps of fabric that were on the floor. Stuffing them into her purse, she slipped out the stairwell door and into the parking garage.

She would have to take off her pantyhose before she got home. There was absolutely no way that she could explain any of this to her husband. Karen was not sure she could explain it to herself. Why had she reacted the way that she did? She felt like such a slut for enjoying herself, for cumming twice at the hands of a stranger, a man other than her husband. Karen was shamed to think that she had violated the vows taken with her husband. Deep down, Karen knew that the hardest thing she had to explain to herself, was how she could have been so excited by the sounds and images of what she had imagined happening to the women downstairs. She felt ashamed because she was excited and because she could not do anything to stop it – and that shame lead to even more excitement, causing her belly to tighten with that peculiar mix of arousal. But what could she have done differently? What would she do differently if it were to happen again?

Karen didn't think she was going to be working so diligently or late any more. Gawd, how could she face Stacy again? Whenever she saw her now, she would picture her crouched down over Mya's face, rocking her hips as Mya cleaned her out: being fucked doggie style while sucking another man, begging to be fucked and used.

Her body began to stiffen and she felt the soreness that would surely be there tomorrow, as she snuck to her car. She glanced around to make sure that the police did not see her and want to question her. At the moment, she was looking forward to nothing so much as a hot bath at home, and the safeness of her husband's arms.

Karen hoped that her husband would never suspect how much of a slut she had been tonight. Karen never suspected that she could act like such a slut, how could her husband possibly deal with it? Karen hoped that nothing irrevocable had been changed within her tonight. What had that man meant by 'a promise for her second husband'? 

She hoped that her husband could still love her, and that she could learn to love herself again, even as thoughts of her 'second husband' battered around inside her mind and threatened to escape from the cage in which she had so hastily pushed them.



Rescued



Debra had heard a few rumours about Peter, but she had tended to discount them. He had always been nice to her, unfailing kind and polite. And not ungenerous she'd noted, often paying for an extra round of drinks when it wasn't his turn.

He was generally popular with both sexes, but some of the women seemed to avoid him, which was probably what gave rise to the rumours.

When Peter asked her out, Debra was pleased to accept but, remembering the whispers, she did take a few minor precautions. There first few dates were always in public places and she never went back to his place afterwards, keeping things light and waiting to see how it all developed.

She had to admit that he certainly knew how to kiss and he was also rather free with his hands, but he never seemed to get upset when she pushed them away. All in all, he came across as no worse than some others she'd dated and definitely better than a couple.

When Peter pointed out that it was a beautiful day and that they should go on a picnic instead of going to a show, Debra readily agreed, It was spring, after all, and with a warm breeze blowing and a cloudless sky it seemed a jaunt into the countryside was a very good idea. Peter happened to know of a picnic ground a little off the beaten track where they could enjoy themselves quietly.

The problem started as soon as they reached Peter's picnic ground. Debra had noticed there were no other cars around when they pulled up, so didn't really object when Peter pulled her over towards him and started kissing her. She'd been expecting a few, and even looking forward to them, but not before they even had a chance to get out of the car. Still, she relaxed and kissed him back.

When Peter's hands started their wandering Debra gave a mental sigh and pushed them away. Unfortunately, Peter refused to take the hint, and his hands became ever more insistent, pulling at her clothes and trying to get under them. It wasn't long and Debra found herself battling to keep her clothes on, with Peter totally ignoring her demands that he cut it out.

Groping behind her for the door handle, Debra jerked hard on it and practically fell out of the car in her haste. Peter on the other hand just casually opened his door and stepped out, coming around the car to meet her, smirking.

"That's enough, Peter," snapped Debra. "You're coming on a bit too strong. Just back off a little, please."

"I don't think so," was the reply. "We're all alone out here and it's time you paid your dues."

Debra stared at him, horrified. Did he mean what she thought he meant? It was rather obvious that he did as he lunged towards her, not quite catching her as she jumped backwards. Realising Peter was determined and fully intended to rape her, Debra turned and ran.

Peter followed swiftly after the fleeing young woman, easily keeping pace with her. It wasn't that he was teasing her with hopes of escape. He just wanted her to get a little further away from the road and onto that nice soft grass before he caught her. 

Which he was able to do quite easily, Debra found, when a hand suddenly closed upon her hair and tugged. Before she could catch herself, Debra found her feet had run out from under her and she was falling backwards to the ground.

Debra hit the ground, flat on her back, and then Peter was diving down onto her. She lashed out frantically, but the swine was just laughing at her, catching her arms and then twisting them rather cruelly behind her back. 

Holding Debra down effortlessly, Peter started undoing the buttons on her blouse, laughing as she swore at him and tried to struggle.

He stopped laughing when a hand closed around his neck and hauled him to his feet.

"I believe the lady is saying no," a deep voice rumbled.

Debra and Peter both looked at the intruder. One with relief and the other with irritation.

"Thank you," gasped Debra. "I was indeed saying no. As far as I'm concerned I never want to see that creep again, and I'll be sure to tell everyone why. You're a bastard, Peter."

"Listen, mate, everyone knows women like it a little rough at times. She's just playing. She'd have been purring like a kitten before we were through. Why don't you run along and let us get on with it?" growled Peter.

"Name's Dave," said the stranger. "Didn't look like she was playing to me. Why don't you get in your car and just go away. I'll escort the young lady back to town."

"I've got a better idea," snapped Debra. "I'll just take Peter's car and make my own way back to town. Peter can walk. The exercise will do him good."

"You're not taking my car, you little bitch," snarled Peter. "And as soon as I've seen this arsehole off we've some unfinished business, so don't get your hopes up."

Turning savagely on Dave, Peter suggest he leave.

"Listen, you ape, I'm a black belt in martial arts. Why don't you just fuck off back where you came from and stop interfering in things that aren't your concern. It'll save you from getting your face rearranged."

"Like this?" asked Dave, and Peter went flying backward as a sledgehammer hit him squarely between the eyes.

"Wow," said Debra. 

"Can you do that again?" she asked hopefully.

"No need," said Dave. "Once is generally enough. Yep. There he goes."

Peter had staggered to his feet and was reeling towards his car, swearing as he went. He'd apparently decided that a dignified withdrawal was preferable to demeaning himself by giving Dave a hiding.

"I do hope he drives carefully," murmured Dave. "He's going to be trying to see the road through a pair of black eyes."

"Serves him right," snapped Debra. "The only downside is that I'm stuck here and have to make my own way home."

"That's not the only downside, unfortunately," said Dave. "It always comes as a real shock to a woman when someone they trust tries to assault them. I've always reckoned that it's probably a lot easier for them if someone they don't know grabs them."

Debra looked at Dave, suddenly feeling a little uneasy. What was he getting at?

Dave smiled at her, nodding. "Yes," he philosophised. "I reckon that when a stranger jumps them, most girls won't even bother to try and fight. They'll just quietly yield and hope he won't hurt them. There's not the same emotional hang-up as with a friend.

Are you a virgin?"

"Wh-what?" stammered Debra, those fluttering little butterflies she'd been feeling in her tummy exploding into a flock of vulture beating their wings.

"Virgin. You know, a girl who has never been fucked. I'm just asking so as I know if I've got to be careful at the start."

Debra nodded. 

"Yes. I don't want to lose it here to you, thank you for offering. I'll just be on my way."

"Oh stop panicking," rumbled Dave as his hand closed over her arm, holding her in place. "It's a perfectly natural thing to do. You'll probably take to it like a fish does to swimming. It's not as though you intended to die a virgin, now is it?"

"Not wanting to die a virgin doesn't mean I want to be raped by a chance stranger," pointed out Debra.

"Maybe, but we don't always get what we want, and right now you're going to get something I want," replied Dave. "And you have to admit I'm a better bet than that idiot who just drove off?"

"How? You're both after the same thing," snapped Debra.

"True, but I'm honest about it. I'm not betraying your trust, because I'm a stranger and you didn't trust me anyway. Not like el creepo, who seemed to be to be a rather nasty type, and probably vindictive. He's the type to tell everyone that he caught you screwing me and that he broke it off."

Debra blinked. Dave was spot on. That was precisely what Peter would probably tell people. She shook her head, trying to clear it.

"That's irrelevant. I don't want to have sex with you. Will you please let my arm go?"

"No. Now are you going to struggle the way you did with Peter, or are you going to just relax? You might as well relax, because you don't really have much choice."

"Do you expect me to cooperate while you rape me?" asked Debra, incredulous?

"Not cooperate, as such. Just don't bother to struggle. It won't do you any good, after all. Now, if you don't mind..."

Dave turned and firmly bent Debra over a nearby picnic table. Holding her there with one hand on her back he took hold of her yoga pants and panties and stripped them down and off, in one practised movement.

While Debra was still gasping with shock from this, his hand slipped up under her blouse to her bra and unhooked it. Then Dave was lifting blouse and bra up and off, assisted, Debra realised in annoyance, by the fact that half the buttons on the blouse were already undone, courtesy of Peter. He wasn't even here, but still he was helping Dave to assault her.

In about thirty seconds Debra had gone from fully dressed to nude in front of a stranger. She was horrified, and shocked to realise that she felt excited. She couldn't stop what was going to happen and all of a sudden her body was curious, wanting to know.

Dave let her go and stood back a little.

"Turn around," he told her.

Reluctantly, Debra obeyed, scarlet faced and trying to cover herself with her hands.

"Just leave your hands by your sides," rumbled Dave. "You are quite lovely, you know, and I want to see you."

Debra breathed out and forced her hands to drop to her sides. She could practically feel Dave's eyes traveling over her. Helplessly she watched her nipples crinkle under his steady gaze, and she almost groaned when she felt moisture between her legs when he looked at her there.

"A little arrow?" asked Dave, lifting one eyebrow and laughing as Debra squirmed.

It had seemed like a fun thing to do, a private joke, when she had carefully shaved her muff into that shape. She'd never expected anyone to see it. She forced herself to remain still, while her hands itched to cover her.

Having looked his fill, Dave held out his hand. Debra stared at it, and then started to find that she was placing her own hand in his. Dave tugged her over to the grass, urging her to lie.

She should fight, she knew, but Debra found herself completely yielding. It wasn't as though she could win a fight against him, so why bother?

She lay there, watching as Dave stripped off. Her eyes widened as his pants disappeared, shocked at what was now on display. She gave an involuntary moan of protest, unable to look away.

"Don't you worry about that little thing, darling," murmured Dave. "You'll be able to handle him all right as long as you just take it easy."

"Little?" she wondered. "How big did those things grow if he considered that little?" Debra vaguely remembered hearing about average erection sizes in sex ed., and she was damn sure that Dave wasn't coming in as under average size.

Dave settled onto the grass next to her. One hand moved gently over her breasts, fingertips lightly trailing across them and then returning to play with each nipple. Then his head bent over her and his lips followed the trail of fire ignited by his fingertips, pausing at each nipple to roughly move it around with his tongue.

Debra found herself twisting slightly, offering her breasts to him. Her mind seeming to have stepped back to let her body direct her actions.

Dave placed a finger between her breasts and started moving it down. A moment later his mouth landed where his finger had started and followed along the trail. Debra gasped as Dave's finger crossed her pubic mound and scratched lightly along her slit, agitating her lips where they met.

The gasp became a small shriek when his mouth continued to follow his finger, and the shriek became a scream of shock when his tongue pushed its way between her lips and darted about inside her. Debra found herself with her hands tightly entangled in Dave's hair, not knowing whether she wanted to pull him away or just hold him there.

Debra almost sobbed with relief when Dave moved away from her pussy and back to teasing her breasts. Her relief was short-lived, with his hand descending, first cupping and squeezing her love mound, and then coaxing her lips apart so that his fingers could explore further.

It was about that time that things started to get hazy for Debra. She could remember screaming again when her clitoris was suddenly attacked. She could remember that for some reason she was holding Dave's erection, moving her hands over it and exploring it. Teeth nibbled on her nipples and she could feel her breasts swell, but the sensations rippling out from inside her pussy were distracting her from everything else.

There were a few moments when Dave seemed to abandon her body, and she slowly gained some control of herself. Looking down she could see Dave was now kneeling between her legs, and his cock was approaching her.

Debra held her breath, watching as Dave edged her lips apart and eased himself into her. Within her, she could feel what seemed to be a massive cock starting to take up room, wanting to force her passage to widen and let it enter. First, there was the problem of the door barring the entrance.

The concept of a battering ram at the castle gates was very clear to Debra now, as she felt a ram butting against her very own castle gates. Then the ram changed, becoming a steady pressure, which her hymen stoutly resisted. Tiring of this, Debra raised her legs and wrapped then around Dave, then with one convulsive squeeze forced Dave to lunge forward.

A streak of pain shot through Debra, momentarily over-riding the pleasure she'd been feeling, and she screamed.

"You bastard," she raged at Dave, "You said you were going to go easy. Not just ram into me like that. That hurt."

Startled, Dave blinked. Him? Shoe was on the other foot, he thought. 

"Sorry, love," he said soothingly, "purely accidental. It will get better now. Can't you feel it?"

And to be honest with herself, Debra could. The flash of pain might have over-ridden the pleasure, but it hadn't stopped it, and while the pain was gone, the pleasure remained, and was building.

Now the task of building on the pleasure got under way in earnest. Dave pulled slowly back and returned, hearing Debra give a little gasp of satisfaction. A few more times, and Debra had forgotten the pain, concentrating on the here and now, and the here and now was Dave's cock plundering her pussy, letting her know it's every movement.

Dave felt Debra starting to push up to meet him as he took her, and he took the time to subtly encourage her. Soon her hips were bobbing enthusiastically, while her body revelled in the sensations it was experiencing.

Dave took his pleasure from Debra's eager young body, sometimes slowing to let his own urgency drain away a little, but never slowing enough to interrupt Debra's growing climax. After slowing one more time, Dave knew that it was the last time. Pressure was building in him and he could not stop it now. He gasped and lunged, hard and fast, his climax threatening to spill over him and then it was there, and he was frantically jerking against Debra, feeling his seed release itself, and relieved at seeing Debra's reactions and hear her screams as her own climax took over.

Debra lay on the grass, feeling Dave's weight on her, heavy but oddly pleasant after what she'd just been through. Finally she pushed against him, and he rolled off her to lie alongside.

"What," Debra wondered, "do I say to a man who has just raped me, even if I did like what happened?" She said nothing.

"You had better get some clothes on," Dave suddenly advised her. "This is a picnic ground and someone else might come along."

Giving him a horrified look, Debra dived for her clothes, feeling decidedly sticky as she put them on. She needed to get home and have a long hot shower. She faltered. Get home? How?

"I assume that you would prefer me not to drive you home," said Dave. "Have you a mobile phone on you?"

Debra shook her head, realising her purse and phone were in Peter's car.

Dave shrugged and reached into his pocket and produced his own phone. 

"Here. Ring someone who'll come and pick you up," he suggested.

Taking the phone with relief, Debra rang a friend, telling of her predicament and how Peter and tried to assault her. Assured that her friend was on the way, she handed the phone back to Dave.

"Thank you," she said. "Now will you please go away? I'm sure you will understand that I don't want to be around you any longer."

"Fair enough," said Dave. "I'll just say thank you for sharing a very special moment with me. One that I'll always treasure. I'll be around keeping an eye on you until your friend picks you up. I'd hate for you to get yourself into any trouble."

Feeling Debra's astounded and wrathful eyes on him as he left, Dave strolled away from the picnic area and into the bushes.



Rescued



When I was in college, I accidentally fell into some money. I'm not kidding. A friend, as part of a project for his finance class, invested some of the money I had been saving for graduate school...and suddenly I had more than a comfortable nest egg. He continued to invest it for me and suddenly half my monthly income was the interest I was earning off the money he'd made for me. It wasn't enough money to retire or anything like that, but it was enough for me to choose a career I actually enjoyed, enough to take a few vacations (which I did), and enough for some other projects. My latest project? I take a few days off from my teaching job when there is a disaster in the U.S. and volunteer my services. I was proud to say I had been there to help with the nightmare of Hurricane Katrina. I know it seems kind of corny, but it was my way of giving back for all my luck.

This time? I was headed somewhere closer to home, Philadelphia. A low-income neighborhood had been devastated by a freak lightning storm. My particular concern was the elementary school that had been pretty much destroyed by fire. Rescue workers were still looking for survivors. Thankfully, only one child had been found seriously injured so far. But they needed trained volunteers to help with the search, so I was on my way there in my banged up 10-year-old Toyota. 

The scene itself was a little more horrifying than I expected. The four-storied building looked as if only half of it had burned, the scorched brick reflected a bizarre pattern no man-made accelerant could have created. I showed the relevant personnel my credentials and then looked around for the volunteer coordinator. Many of the white boards, desks and chairs had simply melted and there was water everywhere from the burst pipes and fire hoses. Most of the wood had burned (you could still smell it). In fact, you could still feel the warmth of the fire although they had put it out hours earlier. I didn't even want to think about some child, trapped, under these conditions. That thought made me start looking even harder for the coordinator.

"Bertha!"

I turned my head to look at the idiot using my middle name as I handed my paperwork over to the solemn, very tall, dark-skinned man in charge of the volunteers. I should have known. Toni Johnson. She was also a do-gooder, but damn if she wasn't one of the most annoying human beings on the face of the planet. At one site she'd been the volunteer coordinator and found out my middle name was Bertha (don't laugh, I was named after my great-grandmother). I didn't use the name. In fact, I'd hated the name during my entire childhood. But instead of calling me Tess, like everyone else that knew me (my name was Teresa, but I preferred Tess), she insisted on annoying me. 

"Hey Toni," I answered, not giving her the satisfaction.

She hurried over, "Hey Mike, I'll take her down."

He finished looking over my papers, signed me up, and then let me follow Toni down the corridor. They were searching in the basement where the gymnasium had been located. I walked past firefighters, police officers, volunteers with their search and rescue dogs, all helping with the search. The feel of the rescue workers was more morose than usual. Even Toni was sedate and that disturbed me. She was usually very talkative, annoyingly so, it was her way of dealing. Her silence made me nervous. I suddenly figured out why.

"Jesus, they found someone," I said softly.

Toni didn't turn around, just continued to lead the way. "About an hour ago. Little girl. We think she was one of the first graders."

"Alive?"

She shook her head and suddenly I understood the mood of the workers. We (and I used the word loosely because I didn't really know most of the people here, but there was usually an automatic sense of "we" among rescue workers) could be a very verbose group when things were looking up. Lots of chatting and joking...it was a way of dealing with the possibility of horror. But when that possibility became a reality, the mood of the group always changed. And until we felt like we would probably not find another body, things would be pretty solemn. 

*

I put in eight hours that day. It was a gruesome chore, sorting through rubble, scorched materials, possible toxic chemicals...thankfully no one else was found. Unfortunately, there were three students and a teacher still unaccounted for. It's not clear whether they were in the building at the time of the storm, but until it was clear they were not, we had to search for them. It always amazed me how casual people were about responding to phone calls of this nature. 'Hello, the school your child attends was horribly devastated by a freak storm and nearly burned to the ground. We've accounted for everyone else in the building except your son. Could you let us know if he attended school today?' Sure, that was the day to simply ignore your voicemail. I shook my head as I sat beside some of the other rescue workers and ate a sandwich donated by a local deli. It was a good sandwich and it went down well with an ice-cold bottle of water.

I'd been to Philadelphia a few times. I lived in New York, so it was only a two-hour drive. But I wasn't incredibly familiar with this area of North Philadelphia. I'd managed to find a hotel not too far away. Actually it was more of a motel, but a friend told me it was a pretty decent place and the couple that owned it was nice. My problem was finding my car. I'd had to park quite some distance away considering all the emergency vehicles in the area. I had jotted down the location, but in my hurry to get to the site, I hadn't really paid attention to where I was walking. Now, a few helpful people were trying to tell me the easiest, and safest, way to get to my parked vehicle. The sun had gone down and this area of North Philly was known for its rather aggressive homeless population. To be fair, a nearby state-funded psychiatric hospital had closed down a few years earlier. Seems some of the residents had not moved on, or had nowhere to move on to. Others in the area were addicted to various drugs and squatting in the many abandoned buildings. All of this meant that walking to my car late in the evening was going to be a bit of an adventure.

I had a few offers from some of the rescue workers to walk with me, but I declined. Most of the offers hailed from interested parties and I wasn't in the mood. I wasn't vain in any way, shape, or form, but I knew when a man was hitting on me. And plenty of them did. It could have been my creamy, butterscotch coloring, or my face which seemed to be arranged in a way that was appealing to most...okay, that wasn't very helpful to you. I'll describe what I see in the mirror in the morning and you can decide if you think it's attractive. My hair is thick and full. It's a dark brown that looks almost black. I've been wearing it shorter than usual, around shoulder length, and typically pulled back into a ponytail, like today. My face is rather round with full cheeks, a full, pouty mouth (my friends used to tease me, saying that I had a perfect dick sucking mouth...whatever that means), a normal, rather pudgy nose...and what most would consider my best feature, a pair of slightly slanted eyes, a rich, deep, dark brown that seemed almost black, surrounded by thick dark lashes and nicely arched eyebrows. People seemed to go gaga for the color of my eyes, I'm not sure why. To me, they just looked like eyes.

The rest of me was also rather appealing to the testosterone driven half of the population. Curves, curves and more curves. Definitely not modeling material considering the ample size of my bosom and backside, but black men didn't seem to care about the fact that I would not appear on the cover of Vogue. And to be honest, I didn't care either. I think black women were simply destined to be a bit chunkier than their white counterparts. At least, while in college, I hadn't had to worry about every bite of food I ate.

Unbelievably, it was Toni who wound up mapping out the fastest route to my parked car. She was from Philadelphia, so it stands to reason she would be more familiar with the area. I think I was more startled by how nice she was being...it was creepy. But I decided it probably had more to do with the body found earlier than anything else. Bidding everyone farewell, I set off for my car, quickly realizing that Toni had probably screwed me with her 'fastest' route. I found myself walking down deserted streets, past abandoned buildings, some with men hanging out in front, gathered around old oil drums with fires burning in them. It wasn't that cold out yet, but it wasn't exactly warm either. I pulled my jacket around my body a little more tightly and picked up my pace. I was starting to panic just a little when I finally recognized the alley I'd walked through that morning. Well, I guess technically it was an alley, although it was pretty wide. Except now, even though it was wide, it was dark and sinister looking. But I knew my car was right on the other side of it. So I took a deep breath, deciding to ignore the chill running down my spine, and started through. 

I was about halfway through when I really noticed the men loitering about. Older men, dressed in raggedy clothes, smelling grimy and uncared for. Homeless men. Most just glanced over and ignored me, for which I was grateful. Others took a much longer look...a much, much longer look. I was keeping my eye on one who seemed like he might approach me when I walked directly into someone. Considering the smell, I knew immediately it was one of them, although I chastised myself for the thought immediately.

"Oh, I'm really sorry," I sputtered, taking a step back with the intent of going around.

He grabbed my arm, "in a rush little lady?" 

The smell. Alcohol. Urine. The unwashed. Whatever else that odor was. And he had my arm. Then, suddenly, there were more men around me. Different sizes, different shapes...different problems. They were reaching for me, touching me, grabbing at me. I could feel the panic swell within me and before I realized it I was screaming. Screaming at the top of my lungs. And then there was an awful pain at the back of my head and I felt myself falling before I passed out.

***

I woke up in a hospital's ER with a wicked headache. One pounding so loudly in my ears I could barely hear anything else. As I lay in one of the hospital beds, I tried to recall what'd happened. I vaguely remembered an ambulance. I'm not at all sure how it found me. I recall a police officer asking me a bunch of questions and informing me that had I had not screamed, I would not have been harmed. I'd startled them and that's why they hit me. I think I told him, quite sarcastically, that they should write that in the pamphlet for tourists before I passed out again.

I was told by the doctor that I had not been sexually assaulted and I didn't have a concussion. That was a relief. I had been mugged or robbed or whatever the proper term was. My bag, my cash, my cell...all gone. I was also told I could not leave until I spoke with the hospital's social worker and the police. I sighed. There was a phone in my little ER cubicle and I was told I could make calls on it. But I didn't really have anyone to call. I wasn't close to my mother, my father had died years earlier, and I wasn't that close to my siblings. I had a few good friends, but I could tell them about this adventure when I returned to New York. I hadn't dated anyone in over two years...so, again, there was no one to call. The thought was a little depressing. 

The police arrived first and after assessing that I was "okay" told me, again, that I should not have been in the area alone and that I should not have startled the homeless population there. As if I could or should have known that. They had recovered my cell, purse and wallet, sans the cash of course, and my keys. I was quite relieved about that. My rescue volunteer credentials were in the mini-backpack, so I really appreciated them returning it. It would have been a real headache to replace them. 

I was asked if I wanted to press charges against the man who had assaulted me, but the disposition of the officers suggested it would be a waste of time, so I refused. I was relieved when they left. I don't think I'd ever felt so guilty about being attacked in my life. Not that I made a habit of being attacked, but...it was the oddest feeling. They really seemed to be suggesting that it was my fault, asking over and over again what I had been doing in that area. When I explained that a 'friend' had suggested it was the fastest way to my car, I was informed that she wasn't really much of a friend. It might have been a faster way to my car, but there was a well-lit, rather well populated route that would have been 10 times safer. I made a mental note to punch Toni in the face the next time I saw her. 

I had to wait another hour before the hospital's social worker made her way to my area of the ER. I was really anxious to leave by then. My head was still hurting, but the meds they'd given me had dulled the pain a bit. I wasn't looking forward to the trek to the motel, and I still hadn't made it to my car, but I didn't want to be in the hospital anymore. I was lying back, watching the tiny television the hospital had been kind enough to provide, when someone cleared their throat and asked if she could enter. The voice was deep, husky, not overtly feminine, but female nonetheless. I assured her I was dressed and she could step past the curtain. 

First impression? Tall. And bald...with a perfectly shaped scalp. And very, very, very dark skinned. The color of a rich, mahogany colored velvet. And she was big, but not scarily so. When she looked down at me, I quickly took a mental picture of her face. It was...amazingly attractive. She looked like that African model...her name escaped me, but she was quite stunning. Her face was long and oval, the features almost perfect, and yet nothing else about her was "model like." She was slightly rounded in the shoulders, nice, broad shoulders, but rather square everywhere else. It could've been that the short sleeved scrub top and jeans were just baggy enough to suggest she was square, but she gave off the distinct impression of being bulky and androgynous, despite her lovely face. 

When I was finished ogling, I looked up at her face, noticing the smirk, and for the first time taking in the color her eyes...amazing...they were brown, but it was so light it was like...gold...almost like a tiger's eyes. The contrast, between those golden colored eyes and her creamy, dark brown skin was...I was a little mesmerized...I...uh...Kaone Kario, that was the model's name! Only a little darker, taller and much, much thicker...I tried to focus, shaking my head to clear it so I could respond to the question she'd asked me twice already. 

"Ma'am, are you okay?"

Her voice was deep and rich like warm honey. I smiled, "do I look old enough to be a ma'am?" I asked, pretending to be wounded. I was flirting. I almost couldn't help myself.

She smirked again, "no, but that bump on your head might have knocked a few screws loose."

I laughed, then winced slightly at the pain in my head. 

"No, I'm okay. Teresa Bertha Martin, 12/26/79."

I was hoping she'd only asked for my name and birthday.

"A Christmas baby."

I scoffed, "my mother wasn't so happy about being trapped in the hospital for the holidays. At least that's what she said."

She didn't respond, glancing down at the chart.

"Says you were assaulted by a group of homeless men?"

I nodded and regretted it immediately. She noticed as I winced again.

"Did they give you something for the headache? You're going to have it for a few days."

"Tylenol."

She frowned and jotted something down in her chart, "we can do better than that. I'll let them know to give you a 'script for something stronger before you leave."

I didn't respond since nodding was a bad idea.

"Are you going to press charges against the assailants?" She asked next. "If so, I can put you in touch with—"

"Actually, no."

She paused for a second, waiting. I figured out, when she didn't say anything for a few moments, she must have been waiting for me to continue.

"The officers said I should not have been in the area and that I was pretty much disturbing those men, so I decided not to press any charges. I guess it was my fault."

She lowered the chart she'd been referring to and just stood there for a moment. She flexed, and un-flexed, the fingers holding a pen and it took her a few seconds before I heard her take a deep breath. Then she finally consulted my chart again.

"Officer Cleveland spoke to you, right? Yea, I know him. He's a real asshole. Uh, look, it's up to you, but if no one reports those men, and this is not the first time they've assaulted someone, no one will do anything about them."

I nodded, winced, regretting it again, and then looked up into those mind-boggling golden-colored eyes.

"Are those contacts?"

It wasn't the question I was planning to ask. It just sorta slipped out. She raised a brow, smirked once again, but ignored the question.

"A nurse will bring in your discharge papers and the prescription. If you change your mind about filing a report," she handed me her card.

Frances Young. Clinical Social Worker.

"Thanks," I said meekly, feeling particularly idiotic for asking such a stupid question. I watched as she turned to leave, but then it suddenly dawned on me.

"Frances Young. That's the name of one of the missing kids," I blurted.

It took a moment before she turned around to face me again.

"What?"

"One of the kids, from the elementary school where I'm volunteering."

She looked completely confused and I realized she had no idea what I was talking about. I quickly filled her in about my visit to the city and what I had been doing all day. As I spoke, her face grew more and more expressionless. She was forcing herself to remain calm. It was quite amazing to watch. Almost as amazing as the moment it took for her to breathe normally after hearing what the police officer had said to me. 

"That's my niece's name. She's a student at that school. You're sure her name was on the list?" She asked rather calmly.

I nodded without thinking, but ignored the pain this time. If her niece was indeed one of the missing, that was much more important than a bump on my head. I watched as she removed her cell phone and quickly dialed a number. Evidently no one answered because she was leaving a message seconds later.

"Bree, call me immediately, okay? It's important."

Bree? Short for Briana? Because that was the first name of the teacher who was still missing. It would certainly explain why we hadn't reached anyone on their behalf.

I cleared my throat softly and she looked over at me again.

"Is your sister's name Briana McMillan?" I asked carefully.

She raised a brow, a little surprised.

"Uh," I hesitated.

"What?" She bit out, startling me a bit.

"I think you'd better come with me. They'll be working all night, we can go back and let them know—"

"What? Let them know what?" She snapped.

She seemed so angry suddenly. Whatever tricks she'd been using to keep a lid on her temper earlier were no longer evident.

"I'm sorry, but they're both on the missing list. Is your sister a teacher there? Her name is on our list. I've been calling out their names all day, we were looking for them..."

I trailed off as she just stared at me, still no emotion displayed on that beautiful, dark-skinned face. Then she turned and was gone.

She moved so quickly I was shocked to realize I was alone again. I found my cell phone and called Mike, wondering if he was still there. He was, but didn't have any news for me about finding the remaining missing persons. I filled him in, explaining why I was in the hospital (he promised to punch Toni for me if he saw her first) and then letting him know that two of the people on the list were evidently related to a social worker at the hospital. He made a note of her name and phone number and then had to get back to work. A few minutes later, one of the nurses came in with my discharge instructions, a prescription, and a dosage of the pills for me to take now to take the edge off my headache. I silently thanked Frances Young as I swallowed the pills. I was gathering my things before I thought to ask.




Rescued



"Where is Ms. Young's office? I have some information for her."

"Frankie's office? It's a little hard to find..."

I listened carefully as she told me the many turns and twists that would eventually lead to the social worker's office in the basement, knowing before I left the room that I would get lost. Still, I set out to find her, stopping to ask a few people for directions before I finally located the tiny office. The door was open so I stood in the doorway, taking in the cramped, sterile space while its occupant's back was to me. She was on the phone, her voice just a little tighter than it'd been a few minutes ago. I figured out pretty quickly who she was talking to.

"I don't know why she would call you, I'm just asking if she did. She does take care of your daughter you know. I thought she might tell you if she took off for a few days—"

She was silent for a few seconds and I could hear her taking deep breaths. She seemed to do that a lot.

"Fine Pete, thanks a lot for nothing." 

When she disconnected the call and turned to see me standing there, I felt like the eavesdropper that I was. I would have apologized if she'd given me the chance.

"Her Ex. He doesn't know where they are. My mother doesn't know, my sister's best friend doesn't know—"

I could feel her panic. It was practically choking me in the tiny space. Because her voice was rising as well, I stepped inside and closed the door.

"Does she usually take off without telling anyone?"

"Not usually, but she has in the past. I don't talk to her every day. Sometimes we don't catch up with each other for a couple of weeks."

She was pacing around the tiny little office, a big, beautiful, agitated, elegant ebony beast locked up in a cramped, confined space. If she wasn't on the brink of a full-fledged panic attack, I would have found the sight quite sexy.

"Look, try not to panic. They might not have been in the building."

"When did this happen?" She asked. I told her the lightening storm hit the day before, early in the morning, at the very beginning of the school day. 

"Does she usually get in early?" I asked.

But she didn't respond. She was on the phone again, this time with someone at the hospital I think because she was explaining that she had to leave. Shortly thereafter she was leading me from the small space.

"You'll take me the school? To the site? Maybe they found—"

"I just called. They haven't found anyone. They won't let you onto the site, but maybe—"

"Let's go to her apartment first. Then we'll go to the school if she's not there."

There didn't seem to be any room to discuss the fact that I was exhausted and had planned to take a hot shower and crawl into bed once I made my way to my hotel. Besides, she was clearly distraught and I would feel like shit if I just abandoned her. So I followed behind her, hurrying to keep up with her long strides, as she led me into a parking garage and finally to what had to be the sweetest car I'd ever seen. An older model Corvette. Sleek, shiny, black, sexy...much like its driver. I tried not to drool.

While she was too preoccupied to realize I might be impressed by the car, she wasn't so far gone that she didn't take the time to hold the passenger side door open for me. I smiled a little to myself as I slid inside, realizing it was as beautiful on the inside as it was on the outside. This car was loved by its owner, that was certain. I was still looking around, enjoying the soft, leathery feel of the well cared for, well-worn bucket seats, when she slid in behind the wheel and took off. 

We didn't talk as she maneuvered the car expertly, her eyes focused on the dark streets as they sped by. When we passed the famous 'LOVE' sign, I realized we were in Center City and heading west. The entire drive only took about 15 minutes before she was parked and rushing from the car to climb a set of well-worn porch steps.

She was pounding on a door when I joined her and I was about to encourage her to come with me to the site when a light suddenly appeared in the first floor window. I heard locks turn and finally the front door opened.

Neither one of us was expecting to see the half dressed, tall, muscular, rather handsome man on the other side of the door. But she seemed to recover from the surprise more quickly than I as she brushed past him. He'd stepped back by the time I followed her inside. When she didn't see anyone sitting in the small living room area, she turned to him. I could feel the anger and suspicion radiating off of her.

"Who the fuck are you? Where's my sister?"

"Frankie, right? We spoke on the phone once. I'm Darren."

She paused for a moment, seemingly accessing a memory that seemed to calm her a little. But when she didn't respond, simply raising a brow in a manner that was quite intimidating, he quickly continued.

"She's sick. They both are. The flu. They've been sick as dogs for two days. I came over yesterday to help out."

And just like that I saw her entire body just...relax. The anger, the fear, the horror of 'what could've been' just left her and I could see her eyes close as the news registered. I thought she might sit for a moment, regroup possibly, but instead she turned and headed toward the back of the apartment to what I could only assume was one of the bedrooms. I was wondering, now that all was well, if I should call a cab, when Darren turned to me.

"What happened? Why's she so upset?"

He clearly had not been watching the news, so I filled him in. I could see understanding register as he began to imagine what had been going through my companion's head. 

I heard animated voices hailing from the room Frankie had disappeared into, apologies for not answering the phone, sneezes and coughs. I saw a little person dash from a room directly across the hall and disappear into the room with the two women, the sounds of a muffled, little voice asking questions. I could only imagine her aunt snatching her up into her well-developed arms and squeezing her almost to death. Minutes later all three made their way to the living room. They did look quite whipped by whatever bug had taken hold of them. I also noticed they looked nothing like Frances Young. Caramel colored, dark brown eyes, average height, average bodies (although mom was packing quite a few curves)...they could have been any African American mother and daughter. I wondered if the two women shared a mother or a father, but they clearly did not share both.

I had to fill Briana in on the details, careful not to provide too much gore since Frances Jr. was present. When her mother sent her back to bed, after a horrific little sneezing fit, I told them about the little girl who'd been found earlier that day. Briana didn't know her, but I could see she was still devastated by the news. I placed a call to Mike, letting him know I'd found two more on the missing list and smiled as I heard the shouts of joy in the background as he announced it to those still searching. Now there were only two students missing and I was hoping their stories would end the same as this one. 

A short time later, Darren was urging Briana back into bed, apologizing on her behalf. And suddenly I was alone in the living room with a woman I hardly knew and who I had scared to death. I felt like shit, physically and emotionally. 

"I'm really sorry. I'm glad they're okay."

She was watching me with those light brown, tiger-like eyes. I shifted a little uncomfortably, wondering what she was thinking.

"You look like crap. I'm sorry I dragged you here."

She was apologizing to me when I'd just turned her world upside down? The thought was ludicrous. And did I really look like crap?

"No, I should be the one apologizing. I—"

"You didn't do anything wrong. I'm just glad they're okay. Come on, let's get you into a bed before you collapse."

I didn't really have the strength to argue, so I didn't. Suddenly we were back in her beautiful car and I was telling her which hotel I was staying at. I could feel all of the aches and pains in my body, now that the excitement was over, so I closed my eyes and trusted she knew where she was going. When I felt the car stop and opened my eyes, I saw a nice, quiet, residential street, not a hotel/motel. I was about to protest, but she was already out of the car and holding my door open.

"Where are we?" I finally asked as I followed her up the short, squat steps to the front door of a rather large house.

"My place. I have an extra room. You can stay here tonight. I'll drive you to get your car in the morning."

She was already opening the door before I could protest. Staying in the home of a complete stranger? All kinds of horror stories ran through my mind. And yet, we'd been through so much in such a short time that I didn't feel like she was a stranger...

"Ms. Young, I appreciate this—"

There was the smirk that had appealed to me on some level at the hospital.

"I think you've earned the right to call me Frankie," she offered, her voice filled with humor.

I nodded, "right. Okay. Frankie, then. I don't think this is a good idea. I don't know if you're a crazed killer and you don't know if I'm one. Can't you just take me to my motel?"

She shrugged, "I'm willing to risk it. I'm too tired to try and find your little motel. It's late and we're both half dead. Let's just get some sleep, okay?"

I was about to protest again, but I was suddenly standing in the living room alone. I looked around, appreciating the soft greens and deep burgundies of the cozy room. The furniture wasn't flashy, just two love seats and a very comfy looking high-backed chair, a large flat-screened TV, a couple of lamps and end tables...simple but tasteful. She was back before I knew it, handing me a towel, washcloth, something to sleep in, and a clean tee shirt for the morning.

"You should find whatever you need in the bathroom. I'll see you in the morning."

And just like that she left me standing in the living room as she closed her bedroom door behind her. The entire experience was beginning to feel surreal to me. I walked in the direction of her bedroom, glancing into the tiny bathroom right across from it. It was spotlessly clean. I went past it to the final room in the apartment. The room was small, but neat. A patchwork quilt decorated the full-sized bed, an armchair adorned a corner, and there was a much smaller television on top of a chest of drawers. The furniture seemed old, maybe even second hand, but it was more than comfortable enough for a night. I closed the door, realizing there was a lock on it, which I turned slowly, hoping she didn't hear the click. I undressed, slipped into the oversized, worn, comfortable tee shirt that smelled faintly of men's cologne, and crawled beneath the quilt. I was sleeping before I realized it.

*

She wasn't there when I woke the next morning. She'd left a note taped to the bathroom mirror explaining that she'd been called back to work. I showered and dressed in my dirty jeans and her clean, oversized green Eagles tee shirt. It, too, smelled faintly of some men's cologne. A nice scent actually. She'd left phone numbers for cabs and some cash on the tiny table in her kitchen, just in case I didn't have any money. She was right, I didn't have any cash considering it had been stolen the night before. I poured a glass of orange juice, deciding to get something to eat at the school when I arrived. Very often businesses donated food for the rescue workers, so I was certain there would be food there. I stripped the bed of the soiled sheets, cleaned up as best I could, left a note thanking her for her hospitality, and locked her apartment door behind me.

*

I didn't have time to think about the odd events of that night for the next two days. That's how long we searched before someone finally tracked down the last two students. They, too, had simply been absent from school. There was relief and joy in the air once we received word. 

It didn't take long for the rescue workers to begin clearing out afterwards. Lucky for Toni, she managed to avoid me, Mike and the others with whom I'd shared my ordeal. In fact, I was told later, she was one of the first people to leave the site. So, after four days of stress and chaos, I drove my 10-year-old Toyota home to New York and fell into my own bed completely exhausted.

***

My life went back to normal. The last thought I had of the social worker in Philadelphia was the check I sent her to reimburse her for the cab money and tee shirt. After that, I re-focused on my first graders, drilling the basics into them before the statewide test that was rapidly approaching. I'd promised to hang out with a few different friends when I returned, so even my nights and weekends were busy. I didn't really have time to process the assault, much less Frankie Young. She didn't really come to mind, even when I received a letter from the Philadelphia police a few weeks later. The letter stated the case was "closed." No surprise there considering, I had opted not to press charges. I didn't think much about it, putting it away as an adventure in my life that was over and done with. 

I was at home, grading tests, waiting for a friend to pick me up for dinner one evening when my doorbell rang. I stood from the sofa, stretching, glancing at the clock on the wall, quite surprised my guest was early considering she hardly ever was. I opened the door, a smile on my lips, ready to deliver a smartass comment, when I realized it was not her on the other side. Instead, there she was, the over-sized, gorgeous model look-alike with the golden eyes. A woman I had convinced myself I'd imagined meeting so many weeks ago. I stood there, frozen, not sure what to say or do. Finally, with a smirk, she leaned against the doorjamb.

"I don't remember being so rude when I invited you to my home," she offered.

I blushed under her intense gaze, flustered as I moved aside and invited her in.

"S-sorry. Uh, you caught me by surprise."

I closed the door behind her, quickly gathering the tests that were sprawled all over the coffee table and stacking them on an end table. I indicated the sofa, inviting her to sit. Once she was sitting, I realized she still wore her jacket.

"I'm sorry, I should have taken that."

She stood and shrugged out of the leather jacket, handing it to me. The leather was baby soft, the jacket worn in some places. I tried to focus on the jacket instead of the emerald green sweater and close-fitting jeans that adorned her frame nicely. I hung the jacket on my coat tree and then nervously took a seat across from her. 

"I'm actually waiting for a friend. I'm sorry, I wasn't expecting you. How are you? How is your sister? Your niece? How did you find me? Did you get my check?"

She was watching me, that smirk that I found so attractive dancing around her full lips. When I ran out of steam, she said, simply, "fine, fine, fine, I work at the hospital and yes."

I laughed, trying to match her answers to my questions, struggling to remember the order I'd asked them in. Besides, laughing seemed to ease the tension I was feeling.

"What are you doing here? Did the check bounce?"

She raised a brow, "should I have expected it to?"

I shook my head, "I'm a little flighty and I've been known to bounce a check or two if I forget to move enough money between accounts."

She shrugged, "I wouldn't know, I didn't deposit it."

A little surprised, I didn't know what to say so I didn't say anything. We sat like that, in silence, for a few moments, before she glanced at the watch on her wrist.

"So, your plans for the evening, are they unbreakable? I was hoping to take you to dinner."

I stood, digging in my back pocket for my cell. I probably should have been surprised that I was so willing to cancel my plans for her, but I didn't really think about it. I just called Justine and begged off, promising to make it up to her next week. Then I glanced down at my jeans and tee shirt and felt my cheeks warm. I was wearing her Eagles tee shirt. I hadn't really paid much attention to the habit, but I'd started slipping into her tee when I got home from work every evening. Embarrassed, I wiped my slightly sweaty palms on my jean-clad thighs.

"Uh, I should probably change..."

"You're fine, don't worry about it. Nice shirt."

I know the color of my cheeks deepened to a soft red, but since she didn't mention it, neither did I. Instead, I watched her magnificent form stand from the sofa, retrieve her own jacket, and hold the door to the apartment open for me. 

We waited for the elevator in silence and she held that door open for me as well when it arrived. I lived on the fourth floor of a relatively small building in Spanish Harlem, so it didn't take long to reach the lobby. Once there, she held the lobby door open for me and then followed me from the building.

"I put my car in a garage, so I hope a cab is okay."

I nodded, wondering how she'd found a garage in my neighborhood when she wasn't from New York, but relieved she'd put that gorgeous car somewhere safe. She hailed a gypsy cab and held the door for me once again, giving the cabbie instructions to a well-known, slightly upscale restaurant on the upper west side of the city. It was a restaurant I was pretty familiar with and I wondered if I should tell her that we needed reservations. I decided not to bother considering there were other places to eat right around there if we couldn't get in.

Once we were settled in the cab and on our way, I turned to her.

"What are you doing here?" I asked her again.

She raised a brow again, "are you always this rude? I bet your mother would not be happy with you right now," she teased.

I shrugged, "I haven't spoken to my mother in eight years. And you didn't answer my question."

She seemed to file that information away before responding. "I realized I didn't thank you for telling me about the incident at the school...and for allowing me to drag you with me that night."

I nodded, surprised, "you don't owe me anything. You let me sleep at your house and gave me a tee shirt, which I have yet to return, so I thought we were even."

She smiled, a sight that had the butterflies in my stomach stirring just a bit.

"Uh, that's the other thing. I want my tee shirt back. I bought that in 2004 when the Eagles made it to the Super Bowl."

I smiled cheekily, "didn't they lose that game?"

She looked at me with mock anger, "are you bad mouthing the Eagles?" She asked in a soft, threatening tone.

I shook my head, "oh heavens no. Not when you're buying dinner."

We both laughed, relaxing in each other's company. I followed that comment with questions about her sister and her niece, asking about the school. She told me they had decided to have the elementary school occupants share a building with a nearby middle-school. Surprisingly, according to her sister, there seemed to be enough space for both schools in the one building. There were plans to rebuild the elementary school, but it would obviously take time. She then asked about my first graders, a question that caught me off-guard until she explained she'd glanced at the exams on the coffee table and assumed I was either teaching first grade or some really, really slow high school students. And that seemed to set the tone for our evening. Jokes, teasing, laughing, and easy, comfortable questions about our lives.

When the cab pulled up in front of my building several hours later, I was sad the evening was coming to an end. She'd told me she was heading back to Philadelphia and I had no idea when I would see her again. Still, I didn't want to end the night on a sour note, so I kept my thoughts to myself. Standing in front of my apartment door, she had to take the keys from me after I fumbled with the lock for the third time. She slid the key into the lock easily, winking at me.




Rescued



"No more than one drink for you next time."

I looked up at her hopefully, "so you see a 'next time'?" I asked, hoping I didn't sound as desperate as I felt waiting for her answer.

She smiled easily, handed me my keys and then, before I realized what she was doing, lowered her head to capture my lips. The feel of those lips, cool, silky, softly polite, sent my pulse into overdrive. I closed my eyes as I felt the heat of her tongue gently caress my bottom lip. When she pulled away a moment later, and I finally opened my eyes, she winked.

"Absolutely."

And then she was gone.

***

That night stuck with me. So much so that I was smiling for the next week. The daily grind with my students didn't take as much of a toll. And even listening to Justine bitch and moan when I took her out for our rescheduled dinner didn't bug me. In fact, the week passed quickly and my spirits remained high, part of me waiting for her to reappear over the weekend.

She didn't. She didn't show up that weekend or the next. At first I thought perhaps our date had not gone as well as I thought it had. But when I went over it in my mind, over and over and over again, I knew I was mistaken. And I could still feel her lips on mine, the kiss imprinted on my brain as if I'd never been kissed before. So, as I sat on my sofa the following Saturday, quite bummed out that she wasn't knocking on my door, it suddenly dawned on me that perhaps it was my turn? My turn to take the drive, my turn to show up unannounced on her doorstep, my turn to risk rejection? It probably wasn't my best idea, especially considering it was already 9pm, but I hurried to my beat up Toyota anyway, my heart skipping a beat as the engine turned over easily. I was actually smiling as I headed toward the George Washington Bridge.

*

I didn't arrive until after 11pm, and then it took me another 25 minutes to find her house. I had remembered the general vicinity, but since I'd left spur of the moment, I'd left her actual address at home. I was relieved when I found the house. It looked as plain and simple as it had the first time I'd seen it. I made my way up the squat steps, wondering if I should have called first. But, I thought, she surely had these same feelings when she'd popped in to see me. So, swallowing my nerves, I used the oversized, old brass doorknocker, shaped like a gargoyle of all things, to announce my presence.

I didn't hear anything. There was a light on in the living room, but I couldn't tell if someone was home or if she'd left the light on as a deterrent. I knocked again, a little harder, and waited, but there was still no movement. It dawned on me that she might be at work. I guess it was easier for her to surprise me at home than it was for me to surprise her. I sighed, making my way back to the car. If I alternated between blasting the heat for a few minutes (it had grown a bit chilly) and then turning off the car, I figured I wouldn't do too much damage to the car, the environment or myself...

*

The knock on the driver's side window scared me to death. I jumped out of the sleep I'd slipped into, my heart racing. I looked around, confused for a moment, not sure where I was or what I was doing here. Then, as realization settled over me, I glanced out of the window to see who had knocked. Tall. That's the first thing that registered again. I think I'd forgotten how tall she was. And that lovely, perfect, face...and then those eyes, amazingly light...gold...clear...and I was staring again. She raised a brow as I wiped my eyes and stood from the car.

She was dressed warmly, unlike myself, in a close fitting wool cap, a thick pea coat and form fitting black jeans. I shivered in the cool air of the morning, closing the car door before meeting those wonderfully, intriguing eyes.

"Hi," I offered breathlessly.

"What are you doing here?"

I wasn't sure how to take her tone. I could see it as abrasive or unwelcoming. But considering I noticed her eyes were red, her body a little hunched over and she looked really, really tired, I decided not to take it personally.

"I was in the neighborhood. You look awful."

She raised a brow again, a smirk now toying with those nicely shaped, full lips.

"Thanks."

She turned and walked up the steps to her house. Not sure if I was invited or not, I followed.

"I mean it. Have you been sleeping?"

"We had to fire some of the social workers at the hospital, so I've been picking up a few of their shifts until we replace them."

She held the door for me as I walked past her, removing my jacket and handing it to her after she hung up her own coat. She didn't say a word, but I could still see the smirk on her lips as she took my coat.

"When's the last time you ate something?" I asked.

She shrugged.

I wasn't sure what that meant, but it didn't sound promising. I made my way to her kitchen, vaguely familiar with it considering my short stay. As I began looking through her cabinets and refrigerator, I glanced over to see her staring at me from the doorway.

"What are you doing?" She finally asked.

"Well, I was going to take you out to dinner last night, but it seems you're in desperate need of food now and I don't think you have the energy to go out."

I retrieved eggs, milk, flour, cinnamon, vanilla, sugar, baking powder and margarine. I knew a pretty basic recipe for pancakes that was quick and filling. Certainly not my best dish, but it would have to do. When I looked up again, she was gone. A few minutes later, as I started the batter and melted butter in a pan, I heard the shower. I smiled, at least she wasn't going to put up a fight. I was pretty sure she was too tired to fight.

She ate the food without complaint. Scrambled eggs and a short stack. She didn't have any syrup, but I'd made the pancakes a little sweet, so with a little butter and jam, they were pretty good. I nibbled at my own food, preoccupied as I watched her. I was too concerned about her to really eat, although I wasn't sure why this woman, who I hardly knew, would create such a state of worry in me. When she finished every bite, and gulped down the rest of her milk, I nodded, satisfied. And now for phase two.

"Okay, off to bed with you."

This time she laughed, "really?"

I nodded, standing and encouraging her to follow by grabbing her hand.

"You look like you haven't slept in a week," I chastised.

She stood, and again I was dazed by her presence. It wasn't just her height, it was the width of her, the span of her chest, the size of her arms...and that face. So perfectly dark, so perfect in every way... She was very attractive, with her almond-shaped eyes, arched cheekbones, and enticingly full lips. She really did remind me of that model...whose name I forgot once again since those eyes, those eyes that seemed to pierce right through my soul, were concentrated squarely on me at the moment. I had taken a step or two back, but she'd followed, until my hips were pressed against a counter and she was standing just inches from me.

"I haven't been losing sleep because of work only."

Her voice, husky and deep, washed over me.

"No?" I asked, breathlessly...mesmerized.

She put her hands on either side of me, holding onto the counter, holding me captive.

"No. This woman came into my life, took me to hell and back in one night...and now I can't seem to stop thinking about her."

She whispered the words, her lips so close to mine...I wasn't able to process a single thought. Her eyes held mine and I could see the fatigue...and something else. Something that darkened those golden orbs in such a way that my breath became short, my pulse throbbing. I wasn't surprised when she closed the short distance between us, touching her lips to mine, but the intensity of it stunned me. Her scent, spicy, powerful, rich...the feel of her, so solid, close and warm...she leaned into me as her tongue captured mine, the weight of her deliciously heavy against me...I felt her arms encircle my waist as she pulled me close, her teeth nipping my bottom lip teasingly.

"Stay with me."

I nodded without hesitation. I wasn't sure what she was asking, but I would probably have agreed to anything she asked. I followed as she took my hand and led me to her bedroom. I hadn't seen this room before since I hadn't wanted to invade her privacy the last time I was in her home. More greens, rusts and browns, a huge king-sized bed, two chests of drawers, a wall unit that held a huge television...nothing fancy. I watched as she pulled off her jeans and long tee, smiling to myself at her white tank and boxers. She raised a brow and I began to undress, removing my own jeans. I only wore a tee shirt, so I left it on. She threw back the heavy comforter and slid into the bed, patting the spot beside her. I lay down beside her, my heart hammering in my chest.

She pulled me to her, the length of her pressed against me, heating my body in a most wonderful way. She pressed her lips to mine, tasting me, enjoying me...her lips lingering...her hand caressing my hip...and then she stopped. It took me a moment to realize she was not going to do anything else. When I finally looked up to see those amazing eyes, they were closed...and she was snoring lightly.

I was happy to see her resting, truly, but my body screamed 'are you fucking serious?' Shaking my head, I chuckled to myself softly, sighing. I took a moment to think about how I was feeling, to wonder about my reaction to her...and then to realize how much I really wanted this woman. I didn't know her well, and I'd always prided myself on taking my time, getting to know a person first, finding out their sexual history...but if she'd wanted to have sex, I would not have stopped it. That reality concerned me. I had been attracted to her from the moment I saw her...and now I had to admit the feelings unnerved me a little.

But for now, considering she was sleeping so peacefully, and holding me so close, there was little I could do about getting some distance from her. I yawned, realizing I was still tired. But before I closed my eyes, I took another moment to take her in...I mean really take her in. This amazingly beautiful creature was lying only inches from me, completely oblivious, and completely relaxed. Even in sleep, she was breathtaking. The symmetry, the shape of her perfectly round head, the angles of her face, the brows that seemed expertly arched, the sharp cheekbones that ended in a perfectly round chin, the fullness of her flawless lips. I wondered how she existed in the regular world with such looks. I wondered how people responded to her. Was she used to people losing their words, struggling to behave normally as they drank her in. Or was it me? Did she just have this impact on me? 

I stared at her until I couldn't hold my eyes open any longer...and then I slept, snuggled against her.

*

For the second time, she left before I woke. Another note, thanking me for the meal and explaining that she had an early shift. She invited me to stay, but warned she had to work another double so she wouldn't be home until very late. I sighed.

I stripped the bed again, dumping the sheets in a hamper, and located clean sheets to put on the bed. Then I straightened up her bedroom and cleaned up the kitchen before I left. It was Sunday and I couldn't wait around all day, spend the night, and believe I was going to make it to class first thing on Monday. We would just have to catch up another time.

***

By the time I recovered from the experience of sleeping beside someone so attractive and sexy, and only sleeping, another week had passed with no contact from my tormenter. But then I was packing to head down to Louisiana. A hurricane had struck Terrebonne Parish and there were hundreds of people who needed to be rescued from areas that were completely under water. I'd asked for a week off from work, left a message on my answering machine, and was in my trusty old car, headed to the airport, in no time.

*

Things were almost as horrible as Katrina when I arrived. There were entire neighborhoods flooded, homes that had water flooding the first floor, vehicles halfway submerged, entire trees strewn about, debris everywhere, people stranded without power or food...

As soon as I arrived, I hurried to one of the rescue centers, stored my bags in a locker, and headed out with a crew in one of the boats. We spent hours and hours rescuing people...the elderly, entire families, children who were alone and afraid, not sure where their parents were. We were lucky for the most part, until we approached one house. There were clothes hanging from the windows, indicating people were trapped. But when we went inside...a young mother and her newborn...they were at the foot of the stairs, submerged under water, the baby still wrapped tightly in her arms...maybe she'd slipped on the way up, the way down? Her neck looked broken. The baby had probably drowned.

The mood was somber thereafter. And by the time I decided to call it quits, having worked 12 straight hours, I had bottomed out. There were cots set aside for the rescue workers at the Center, so I decided to grab a sandwich and just crash there. There was no joking, no lightheartedness to erase some of the horror we'd seen that day. My dreams were filled with the image of that woman, her baby...and death. 

*

By day four, we were all more than a little depressed and ready for the relief crews that were headed our way. I'd checked into a motel not too far from the Rescue Center by then, but I was up and out of my room by 5am every day. I had run across some familiar faces, from some of the other sites, but the sense of camaraderie, the sense of accomplishment that sometimes kept us going, was missing. We'd found dozens dead, homes completely ruined, families that had lost everything and were worried about where they would go next, how they would survive... There was no room for good feelings here. Nothing but loss and horror for the most part. 

I was making plans to stay for another few days, but the site organizer saw that I was burnt out and said I should leave. Others were coming, he assured me, they were not shorthanded this time around. Never again would they be shorthanded in Louisiana, hopefully. So, I finished my shift, packed my few belongings and caught a redeye flight back to New York. 



*

I was still struggling to get back into the 'groove' of teaching days later. The trip...it haunted me. It wasn't the first time I had been unable to shake some of the images, the sadness, the fear, the hopelessness...but this time it was keeping me up at night and ruining my appetite. I think the image that affected me the most was that woman, and her baby, dying alone in that house. If there had been someone there with her, would it have happened? Had she been terrified? How long had the baby been alone, crying, terrified, before...I couldn't seem to stop thinking about it.

I was trying to keep busy, going out with friends, keeping up with my classes, watching movies that had been released on DVD that I hadn't had a chance to see yet. But nothing was working, including the over-the-counter sleep aids I'd been taking almost every night. I was still having trouble sleeping and I still had nightmares.

The Monday after I returned, I decided to call in sick and just take a mental health day. After sleeping late, I planned to run errands, clean my apartment and do some laundry, but instead I hopped in my car and headed toward Philadelphia. Frankie had called the day after I returned from my trip, but I hadn't been in the mood to call her back. I was hoping she wasn't too annoyed with me and would be willing to blow off work, if she was scheduled, and spend the day with me.

Considering my luck at her house the last time, I decided to try and catch her at work instead. When I arrived at the hospital, they directed me to a new floor. I followed the maze that every large hospital inevitably creates as it add new wings, until I finally found her office. It was in a much more central location on the first floor and it was much larger. And under her name read the title "supervisor." I'm pretty sure she hadn't been a supervisor before and I was suddenly sorry I had not been around for her to share the good news. I tapped on the door, smiling just a little when I heard her deep, husky voice call for me to enter.

She was reading something on her desk and didn't look up immediately. When she did...I think the world stopped moving for just a moment. Those golden eyes settled on me and the smile that teased her lips...I suddenly knew I hadn't made a mistake showing up unannounced. 

"Hey," she said, smiling, standing and coming around the desk. She half leaned, half sat against it.

I smiled, "hi. Sorry to interrupt."

She shook her head, "not a problem."

She stared at me for a moment. Just stared, intently, her head tilting to the side just a bit. I wasn't sure I would be able to continue breathing if she kept looking at me like that when she finally spoke.

"You okay?" She asked.

Two simple words, but they meant the world to me. No. I was not okay. I had not been okay in days. But I was so pleased she'd noticed since no one else had asked that question.

"No, but thanks." I looked at her desk, piled high with paperwork, and knew I couldn't ask her to skip work. "Can you get something to eat?"

She glanced at her watch and nodded, standing up straight to stretch. It was poetry in motion, her stretching. Muscles and tendons flexing in a most appealing way. Certainly something I would not mind watching over and over again. I averted my eyes after a moment, lest she laugh at me again for staring at her like a lovesick puppy.

"We can grab something in the cafeteria, if that's okay."

I nodded, just wanting to spend some time with her. I followed her through another maze of corridors and stairwells until we came to what was a pretty busy cafeteria. It had a wide variety of food, but I wasn't really hungry, my appetite still seemingly located in some part of Louisiana. So, I only grabbed a yogurt and a bottle of water. When I met up with her at the register, she raised a brow. She had a tuna sandwich, a bag of chips, a small salad, a bottle of water and a soda on her tray.

"That all you eating?" She asked.

I nodded, "yea, my stomach hasn't been doing too well."
She didn't say anything, turning to pay for her lunch. When I tried to do the same, the cashier told me Frankie had already paid. We sat at a table for two in a relatively quiet area of the dining area. We didn't say much as Frankie unwrapped her sandwich and bit into it, opening the chips and offering me some before she took a few for herself. I liked to see her eat. She wasn't emaciated, far from it, but she seemed to be the type of person that would forget to eat when she was preoccupied. So, if she was eating, that meant she was probably okay for the most part. I liked the idea of that.

When she finished half the sandwich, she wrapped up the other half and drank her bottle of water in almost one gulp. Then she set everything down and turned those incredible eyes in my direction.

"What's wrong?"

Again, two simple words that meant the world to me. I sighed, feeling a little bad about laying my problems at her doorstep, and yet, I still spilled everything about how I was feeling. The nightmares, the lack of appetite, what had happened in Louisiana...how unsettled I was feeling. How awful I felt to be alive, and be okay, when so many people had just had everything ripped away from them. I rambled on as she ate her salad and snacked on her chips. It must have been at least 20 minutes before I finished. She hadn't said much while I was dumping and when I finally closed my lips, she still didn't say anything. I watched her toying with the soda she hadn't opened yet. She looked like she was a million miles away and I wondered, for a moment, if she'd been listening to me at all.




Rescued



"Survivor's guilt."

Okay, so she had been listening.

"And it's a normal, healthy reaction to what happened down there. Except, you're forgetting about all the people you did help. The ones you rescued. I mean, you said you worked 12 hours a day, and most of the people you encountered were desperate, waiting for someone to help them...and you did that. You took the time out of your life, when you could have just turned the channel, or turned a blind eye. You took the time out of your life, days you will never get back, and you gave them to these people. Strangers. And for what? You didn't get paid. You don't get any awards or anything. You don't have your face plastered all over TV. You did it why?"

I knew she was right, but I didn't really know what to say. She didn't let it go.

"Why did you do it Tess?"

Oh my God, the sound of my name on her lips...focus Tess. Focus.

"Because someone had to do it."

"Yeah, but not you. Why did you do it?"

I was confused by her question. It was the right thing to do, that's why? I don't know why I did it otherwise.

"Tell me," she pushed.

I sighed, "I don't know. Because a part of me felt I had to do it. Because, those people needed help and I am in a position to help them. Because...it was the right thing to do."

She nodded, replacing her soda on the tray and staring straight into my eyes.

"And you got off your ass and did the right thing. Right?"

I nodded, feeling the weight on my chest lift just a little. I closed my eyes, thinking about what she'd said for a moment, and I knew she was right. We'd lost so many, but we saved a lot of people too. And I could see in my mind's eye the children who had been left behind, reuniting with their families, and the elderly who had been terrified, so grateful we were there to help them...I could see the relief on all those faces, the joy that this part of the horror story was over, the gratitude that we were there...I'd forgotten about those images, letting the horrible ones squeeze them out. When I opened my eyes, I felt a little different. Not great, but a little better. Frankie watched me for a moment, winked, and then stood to leave.

It was my turn as we walked back to her office. 

"You didn't tell me about the promotion," I chastised.

She groaned, "what promotion? The new headache I'll be living with for the next two years at least?" She said bitterly.

I realized, suddenly, that maybe she hadn't mentioned it because she didn't see it as good news. 

"You didn't want the job?"

"My idiot supervisor was one of the people fired. I have seniority. The person next in line is another fucking idiot, so I didn't want her to get the position."

I was getting the picture. But she seemed pretty skilled, knowledgeable, and experienced, so I wasn't sure why she didn't want the position. The hospital was pretty crowded as we made our way through the maze, so I had to wait until we were back in her office to ask.

"Why didn't I want the job? It's headache, after headache, after headache. I have to deal with all the complaints, from patients, doctors, nurses and Administration. Any problems with a social worker, I have to address it. That means I have to keep tabs on over 30 social workers employed at this hospital, full-time and part-time. Add the squabbles about extra shifts, mandated over time and all the other nonsense. And if too many people call out, who has to fill in until I can find someone else to cover the shift? I do."

She sighed, leaning against her desk, her long legs stretched out in front of her, her arms crossed over her rather small breasts. I could see the signs of strain and frustration on her face that I'd been too preoccupied to notice before. She certainly looked less carefree than she had a few weeks ago. I felt bad for her all of a sudden. At the same time, I couldn't think of a more capable person to do the job, which I told her.

She leaned her head back and laughed, a deep, throaty, sexy laugh that sent tingles through my entire body. God, did this woman know how absolutely stunning she was?

"You've only known me for a few weeks, but you think I'm the best man for the job, huh?" She teased.

I didn't respond, too busy trying to recuperate from her laugh. I was standing beside the door, intending to leave so she could get back to work, but before I knew it, she was standing in front of me...really close...her scent dancing in my nostrils...the feel of her in my personal space wreaking havoc on my senses. She didn't give me a chance to answer her question. Instead, she leaned in and placed her lips against mine, softly...tenderly...sweetly. She tasted of tuna, and mints...and something I could not name, I could only feel it. Feel it in the pit of my stomach, feel it squeezing my chest, feel it down to my toes. I moved closer to her, my mouth parting just a bit so she could explore...her tongue penetrating, stroking, searching...staking claim...making me dizzy. I don't know how long she kissed me, how long she worked her magic, stealing her way into my heart...into my soul...it seemed like time had ceased moving. So, it took a moment for me to hear the shrill ring of the telephone on her desk. And I felt a part of me was lost when she sighed into my mouth, her tongue stroking my bottom lip as she ended the kiss. She took a step back, staring with those hypnotic golden orbs into my dark eyes for a moment, cementing whatever had passed between us, before she quickly made her way to her desk and snatched up the receiver.

It seemed our time was up. Her second line was ringing and then there was an impatient knock on her office door. I waited until she glanced over at me, waving and indicating she should call me, before I slipped out of her office to make my way back to my car. 

On the drive back to New York, I thought about what she'd said. I think I'd forgotten why I rushed into those disaster areas. I wanted to help. I wanted to give back. And I was doing that, even though some of the people could not be saved. I think I just needed to hear someone else say it. To remind me that I wasn't crazy, or stupid, or seeking validation in some way. I'd just wanted to do what was right and this was my way of doing it.

Those thoughts were easier to deal with than the other thoughts. The thoughts about Frankie, how attracted I was to her, how much I enjoyed her company...how much I wanted to spend more time with her. But she and I were busy women and I knew I really should not start to develop an attachment to her. I wasn't even sure she liked me as much as I liked her. And the last thing I needed was to set myself up for rejection. I didn't want to hear 'look, we live 100 miles apart and I have a life,' or 'I'm too busy to get involved,' or, for all I knew, 'I'm already seeing someone, I thought we were just having fun.' I mean, it's not like we'd talked about our relationship statuses. Maybe she'd just ended a long relationship and wanted to play the field for a while. Or maybe I was rebound girl. Who knew?

Although I seemed to be having a bit of an identity crises, there was a part of myself I still trusted. And that part told me Frankie was not the type of person to play games. I didn't know exactly what type of relationship she was seeking, but I had to trust the part of me that knew she was most likely single and she was interested in me. Beyond that, I just didn't know. 

I made good time on the New Jersey turnpike. It was still early enough for me to review my lesson plan for the next day, watch a little television and take a nice, long, hot shower before bed. She didn't call before my eyes closed for the night, but I had to give her credit for giving me enough peace of mind to actually sleep.

***

The next three weeks passed rather quickly, and without a visit from Frankie. She called a few times, but I could tell she sounded a little frazzled and over-worked. I figured the job was taking its toll on her, so I decided not to pressure her with any more unannounced visits. She didn't need to think about her relationship with me when clearly her world had been turned upside down with the promotion. Besides, I told myself, I needed to get my own sense of self together before I dove headfirst into another relationship. My last one, almost three years ago, had left me devastated. She'd been a struggling artist, with a great deal of talent in my opinion. But she was also a liar and a manipulator. I'd heard the rumors about her and other women, but turned a blind eye because I didn't want it to be true. But when I tested positive for an STD...well, there really was no way to hide from that truth. So, taking a small bite out of my savings, I found her an apartment, paid her rent for six months, bought her a used car, gave her some traveling money, and wished her well. I hadn't heard from her since.

Getting burned like that...well, it supposedly made a person more cautious. And yet here I was, ready to fall in love with Frankie. It was nuts, if you thought about it. I should have learned my lesson. But the heart wanted what the heart wanted...and I guess mine was tuned into Frances Young. 

***

I'd had a particularly grueling day, with lots of whining and complaining from my students, a formal sanction from my Principal for using materials not approved by the School Board, and a cancelation from Justine for dinner. It was Friday and I had decided to veg out in front of the television with a quart of ice cream and a glass of white wine, feeling frustrated and a little sorry for myself. I was, of course, wearing a certain someone's Eagles' tee shirt. It was the only thing that had made me smile all day. I thought perhaps the tee shirt had special powers because I was wearing it, and thinking about her...and then someone knocked on my door around midnight. A late night visit, unannounced? It could only be one person...

Unfortunately it was not who I was expecting. She'd cut her dreadlocks off. She was now sporting a short, kinky afro...it actually looked good on her. She had on a tank top, a denim jacket and a pair of tight jeans that probably cost more than my monthly rent. She was slimmer, still a little curvy...honey brown, with piercing amber colored eyes and a killer smile...my ex, Wilma. 

"Hi babe."

I raised a brow, pretty sure she'd lost the right to call me that when I tested positive for trich. Still, I stepped aside and let her in. While she was still quite attractive, I did notice the shadows under her eyes and the stress lines around her mouth. Something was wrong and I was sure I was about to hear about it.

When I closed the door I turned to face her, my brow still raised.

"Okay, I know you're probably still pissed at me, but...look...I lost my job and they kicked me out of my apartment."

I waited, not cutting her any slack. Once I would have cared about her predicament. At the moment, considering I had been hoping to see someone who was tall, dark-skinned and gorgeous, I wasn't sure I gave a damn.

"How the hell did you find me?" I'm not sure why it was my first question, but it bothered me that she'd been able to track me down.

"Justy, of course. Although I had to beg."

I promised silently I would find a way to make Justine pay.

"Sell the car," I suggested.

"I already sold it."

Of course she had.

"I'm strapped Earthy...please?"

I winced at the nickname. It was supposed to be a play on Bertha, one that supposedly made the name a little less hideous. But it had never worked and I'd asked her to stop calling me that years ago...a plea that had obviously fallen on deaf ears.

I took a moment to glance around my apartment. It was nice-sized one bedroom apartment and okay for one person...me. It wasn't huge and it wasn't small, it was just perfect. But two people living here, one that was a little less concerned about cleaning up after herself? I didn't know how that would work. But she and I had dated for four years...I wasn't going to leave her out on the street.

"How long?" I finally asked, sighing.

I knew that smile. It was her victory smile. It was the smile I'd seen a few times after she'd convinced me, yet again, that she wasn't cheating. Ignoring the feeling of dread creeping up my spine, I listened to her promises about crashing on my sofa for only a few days, a statement we both knew was bullshit. I told her she could share the bedroom with me, primarily because I could not stand the idea of her junk all over the living room. When she smiled slyly at my offer to share the bedroom, I assured her I had an air mattress that would be quite comfortable for her. That dimmed her gloating smile a little, but not enough in my opinion. I knew she was up to something, I just didn't know what. I was hoping she wasn't going to try for a reconciliation. The thought of it was a little nauseating, much like the thought of the STD she'd given me. 

*

The next evening, as I reviewed my lesson plan for Monday, my cell rang. It took me a moment to find it, now that Wilma's paints, brushes, canvases and clothes were all over the place. When I did find it, I was quite pleased to hear the voice on the other end. It was weird, but for a moment I felt a little uncomfortable speaking with someone I soon hoped to be dating while my ex was sitting a few feet away polishing her toenails. I had to force myself to remember that it was my apartment, I paid the rent, and she was invading my space, not the other way around. Still, when Wilma caught some of the conversation, her interest piqued and suddenly I was watching her watching me. So I stood and went into the bathroom, closing the door firmly behind me.

"...--my sister thought you might want to join us."

"Join you?" I asked, realizing I'd missed what she said.

"For my niece's Halloween school program? I think she's going to be dressed like a pumpkin and singing some idiotic song. It's going to be horrible, but..."

I smiled, "I'd love to. When?" The pleasure at being invited to a family event was simply delightful, especially considering we'd barely had time to talk to one another lately.

"Friday night. I'll come to the city and pick you up around 4, okay?"

"Sounds great."

I thought she would simply hang up after finalizing our plans, but she surprised me, filling me in on her very busy, very hectic days. She'd been encountering quite a few problems that had been ignored by her predecessor. Finding solutions was turning out to be more of challenge than she'd anticipated. Still, while she sounded tired and frustrated, she seemed to have a grip on the situation already. I knew she would be just fine and didn't hesitate to tell her so. She paused, and I could imagine those perfect lips curving into a smile and those wonderfully golden brown eyes narrowing just a bit at the compliment.

"Still convinced you know me, huh?" She asked, her voice a little huskier.

I laughed, "probably just a lucky guess at the moment, but I'm looking forward to a time when I know you much better."

The words were out before I realized what I was saying. There was silence on the other end and I worried if I'd crossed some invisible line that made her uncomfortable.

It was hard to do, but I waited for her to say something. I think I needed to know if she was as interested as I was in getting to know one another. It felt like I had to wait an hour before she said something, although it was probably only a few seconds.

"Tess..." She hesitated

And I had to admit I didn't like the tone of her voice. Perhaps I had pushed her too far too soon? I was preparing myself for a brush off...

"I just...I mean, we haven't really talked about our pasts..."

I sighed, relieved. I knew that tone and I could totally handle the 'I have a lot of baggage' talk. It was much better than the 'I just want to have a good time' talk.

"I don't care about that...and I'm not seeing anyone," I volunteered. "And I have the results of my latest STD tests."

Another pause and then she chuckled...deep...rich...it sent a shiver right through me.

"Direct, aren't you?" She asked teasingly.

"Uh, my last gave me an STD. Not a permanent one, thank God, but I think it's best to be upfront."

"I agree. I haven't been with anyone in years, so I'll need to get those results for you."

I smiled, "okay. I can wait."

"I work at a hospital, they'll be done in no time."

This time I laughed, "oh, right. That's good then."

From there we talked a little about our previous relationships. She'd been with fewer people than I had, which was kinda sweet, but a little surprising given her looks. And I'd heard Philadelphia was a very friendly town for Black lesbians, so I wondered why she'd dated only a few people. Not that it was a problem. It was just...surprising.

More than an hour later, with promises to meet at my apartment on Friday around 4, we ended the call. I decided to take a quick shower, probably to cool off a little after chatting with Frankie, before rejoining Wilma in the bedroom.

"So, who was that?" She asked as soon as I plopped down on my bed.

I looked over at her, "none of your business." I reminded her.

She chuckled, "ah, must be the new girlfriend."

"She's just a friend," I corrected, instantly annoyed that I'd responded at all.

Wilma didn't offer a comment, a first for her I think. But I was sure she knew me well enough to know I was interested in the person on the phone, something that didn't seem to sit well with her.

I put on my regular sleepwear, Frankie's tee shirt and a pair of men's boxers, and slipped into bed.

"Since when are you an Eagles' fan?" She asked out of the blue.

I looked down at the shirt, blushing just a bit. "Uh...it's a friend's."

"Same friend? You're sleeping in her shirt? Didn't you sleep in it last night too?"

"Goodnight Wilma."

She didn't say another word, but I could feel the pulse of something emanating off her. I wasn't sure if it was frustration or annoyance, but I got the feeling this conversation was not over.

***

I was running late on Friday. A parent had decided to drop in for a surprise visit, which the school encouraged, but I was totally annoyed that it had to be today. I texted Frankie to let her know I was running late. I had no choice but to stay after and discuss the child's progress. Not one of my best students, he was also not at the bottom of the class, which was great news. So I offered a number of options for pulling up his grades, including encouraging him to participate in class more often and use the informal peer tutoring services I'd set up during lunch.

The parent-teacher meeting had gone well, but I was a little frantic as I drove my Toyota out of the teacher's parking lot. It was already 3:45 and I still had to shower and change. By the time I made my way through the Friday late afternoon traffic, it was after 4pm. I found a parking spot and rushed to the entrance of my building, glancing at my watch over and over again.

"Tess?"

I turned, surprised to see Frankie getting out of her Corvette, her long legs covered in familiar form fitting black denim and a white tee that highlighted her beautiful ebony skin and the muscles in her arms. She wasn't smiling, which concerned me. I changed directions, meeting her halfway. 

"Hi. What are you doing out here? I told you where I left the spare key, right? It wasn't there?"

She glanced up toward the fourth floor of the building, an odd expression on her face, before meeting my gaze, her golden eyes darker than usual.

"Uh...I'm actually going to just head out."

Stunned, I pressed my lips together. I didn't want to beg her to wait for me. She didn't seem comfortable, so I wasn't going to ask her about it, but I knew who the problem was most likely. I was just waiting to get upstairs and confront her.




Rescued



"Uh...okay. I'm sorry you came all this way—"

She waved away my comment. I stood there as she turned and made her way back to the car, sliding behind the wheel and driving off. I was upset and disappointed, although those words were not strong enough to describe how I felt now that I would not be spending time with her. Besides, there was another emotion that trumped my disappointment...rage.

I hurried into the building, taking the stairs two at a time and shoving the key in the lock, practically ripping the door off its hinges as I threw it open. She wasn't in the living room.

"Wilma!"

My voice was shrill, hyper...angry. If she knew anything about me, she should know to tread lightly. But when she made her way out of the bedroom, I suddenly wondered if she'd lost her mind. She was dressed in a tiny, tiny towel...and nothing else. And she had those toe-separators between her toes, clearly having re-painted her toenails again. She looked like a woman waiting for her partner to come home so she could entice...so she could ravage...so she could fuck her. There certainly was no indication she was just a friend or a simple houseguest.

I just stared at her, incredulous. Was she fucking kidding? How had she known? She must have overheard my conversation...or read my text messages? My emails? I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to take a deep breath. I wondered what Frankie had thought, seeing this woman, who seemed so 'at home' in my place, wearing her tiny little towel as if she was my lover waiting for me to return home from a hard day's work. And there was no telling what Wilma had actually said to her. Frankie probably thought I was playing games. Or worse, that I had lied about being involved with someone. When I opened my eyes, I knew they were probably almost black with anger. 

"What the fuck Wilma?" It was all I could sputter.

"What?" She answered, feigning ignorance. "Oh, are you talking about the person that stopped by for you, Frances something? She said she would wait for you downstairs."

"Pack your shit."

Those words shocked her. She hesitated, not moving a muscle. But I wasn't in the mood for an explanation. I wanted her gone so I could go after Frankie. Since she still hadn't moved, I stormed past her and grabbed one of the duffle bags she'd brought, shoving any of her clothing I could find into it.

"Wait a minute—"

"You knew! You knew and you still played your stupid little fucking games?! In my apartment? After what you put me through?!" 

I was screaming like a wild woman, shoving her paints and brushes into the same bag carelessly, a no-no in Wilma's world.

"You're gonna ruin them!" She protested, trying to stop me.

"I want you gone! I want you out!"

She snatched the bag from me, realizing I was serious and understanding that unless she started packing, I would continue to do it for her. So she started gathering her things, stacking some on the bed, shoving others in the bag she held, all the while avoiding my gaze. She was trying to look pitiful, trying to solicit a reaction from me...it wasn't working. Instead, I left the bedroom so she could pack by herself, pacing the floor of my moderately sized living room as I tried to calm down.

She stayed in there for an hour. Again, she knew me, so she knew it would take at least that amount of time for me to calm down. And I had...a little. I had also tried to call Frankie, who had sent my call directly to voicemail. That was probably the reason I had calmed down only a little. I grabbed a yogurt, forcing myself to eat something before I snapped again. I wasn't a very nice person when I was hungry and I hadn't eaten since 11 that morning. I was licking the spoon, trying to think of the best time to head to Philadelphia, when she finally emerged from the bedroom, dragging a duffle bag and a few of her easels behind her. She'd brought 4 bags with her, so a part of me was wondering why she only had one now. The other part of me knew she was still up to something.

She dropped the bag down beside the front door, sighing dramatically. I just sat on the sofa and watched her, too angry to play her silly games. Finally, after another dramatic sigh, she turned to face me.

"Okay, I'm sorry."

I didn't say a word, continuing to stare at her coldly.

"I mean, I didn't really know, I kinda suspected she was the one. But she just walked in here, I didn't even know she was coming, you didn't tell me..."

She trailed off and I still sat quietly, just watching her. Did she really expect me to have my plans approved by someone who was freeloading? Seriously? Someone who was not a significant part of my life anymore? I just waited for her to get a grip on reality.

"Okay, you're right, you don't have to tell me, it's your place. But..."

I watched her fumbling, searching for the right words, refusing to offer her any assistance. Finally she huffed with frustration.

"I thought, since you let me stay, you and I—"

"You've got to be joking," I spit out.

She looked at me and I could see the tears wetting her lashes. I rolled my eyes. Tears were another one of her weapons.

"You don't have to say it like that, I mean—"

"You gave me a fucking STD Wil! I mean, really? Did you really think I wanted to try again? I wasn't clear three years ago?"

"Then why did you let me stay?!" She yelled angrily.

"Because you said you had nowhere to go! I didn't know you were playing your stupid little games again!"

She dropped down to the floor, her legs crossed, her face hidden by her hands as she cried. I rolled my eyes again, finishing my yogurt as I watched from the sofa. I was not in the mood for her theatrics. I needed to shower and change...

She finished crying, pouted for a few more minutes, and then crawled over to sit beside me on the sofa.

"Who is she?" She asked sullenly.

"That's not really the point Wil. I'm not going to date you again. You cheated, you lied, you gave me an STD...there's no way I could ever trust you again. Like I said three years ago."

She sighed, "but I've had some time to grow up. I miss you Earthy, I...I want another chance."
I shook my head, I knew it! I just knew it! "No. We can be friends, but I'm not going to put my peace of mind in your hands again."

"Because of her?" She asked a little bitterly.

"No, because of you."

She said nothing for a few moments. I glanced at my watch impatiently.

"So you're going to her now?"

I stood, "I'm not answering that. Or any other questions about her. I just want you to leave."

She stood also, "but Earthy—"

"And oh my God, please stop calling me that!" I snapped.

Stunned again, it took her a moment to recover. "Sorry. But I do really need a place to stay."

I shook my head as I walked toward the bathroom, more because I knew I would probably cave and let her stay, "whatever Wil, I need to get going." I slammed the bathroom door behind me.

*

We didn't resolve her housing dilemma before I left. In fact, I didn't say another word to her. But considering she'd stopped packing, I knew she would probably still be there when I returned. I decided not to think about it at the moment. I needed to figure out what I would say to Frankie. The truth? If someone I was interested in had their ex living with them...it would make me nervous, to say the least. It would suggest to me that things were not 'over' with that ex, especially if that person had failed to tell me about said ex just a few days earlier when we were 'coming clean' about our pasts. I sighed, how had I messed up before I was even in a relationship officially? 

The lights were on in her first floor apartment when I pulled up. I even saw her walk past the windows a few times as I sat in the dark of my car trying to find some courage. I still didn't know what I was going to say to her, but I took a deep breath and left the comfort of my car anyway. I might as well see if there was anything worth saving with her.

I knocked on the door, holding my breath. My hands were trembling a little by the time it swung open. She didn't look entirely surprised to see me...I guess that was good? She hesitated for a moment, but then stepped aside so I could enter. I did so, afraid to meet those soul-piercing eyes of hers. I waited as she closed and locked the door, but then we just stood there in silence. She was clearly not going to give me a break and I didn't blame her. I took another deep breath before diving in.

"I'm really sorry. I haven't seen her in years. She just showed up last weekend and said she needed a place to stay for a few days. I should have told you." 

She raised a brow, "your ex then?" She asked coolly.

I nodded, realizing I hadn't explained who she was. 

She didn't say anything else, making her way to the kitchen. I followed, realizing I smelled something cooking. I watched her stir a rather large pot of tomato sauce, tasting it before adding more spices. She then dumped in a plate filled with diced sausage and stirred the sauce again. Moments later she was covering the large pot, putting on another with water to boil. 

"So, you two trying to work things out?" She asked casually. 

I wasn't sure if she was faking disinterest or if she really was no longer interested. "No. She's the one that gave me the STD. Absolutely no way."

She nodded, grating a block of mozzarella cheese.

"She sort of hinted that you two were getting back together."

I fumed internally, refusing to give voice to the words bouncing around in my head. I really should have kicked her out. 

"She asked about that after you left," I finally said.

Frankie raised her head to look at me, her eyes darker than I'd ever seen them, her face impassive.

"Oh?" She asked, still somewhat casually.

I sighed, "look, if she had asked two and half years ago, when I was still hurting, maybe. But not anymore."

She put down the cheese and wiped her hands on a kitchen towel, turning to face me. "Then what is she doing there?" She asked. The million dollar question.

With those golden-hued eyes watching me so closely, I couldn't hide the fact that I had been a little flattered when she'd come to me, homeless, penniless, probably regretting that she'd played me for a fool. But that didn't mean I wanted to be with her again. I didn't love her anymore, not like that. I knew that with absolute certainty.

"Honestly," I finally admitted, "I was glad she had to crawl back to me after what she did. But I would never be with her again."

I certainly hadn't planned to share those feelings with her, but I think total honesty was necessary at the moment. If I wanted to have a chance with Frankie at all, I knew she would want to know what was really going on. She wouldn't want some watered down version of the truth, where I made promises I couldn't keep because I wasn't even being honest with myself.

It was a risk, admitting those feelings, but I could see her shoulders relax just a fraction of an inch. And those eyes, those amazingly sexy, tantalizing eyes were just a little warmer. She mixed the cheese into the sauce, stirring it until it melted. Then she dumped a box of spaghetti into the boiling water. We didn't say much as she finished preparing her late dinner. And I tried to ignore my grumbling stomach, wondering if I would be invited to join her.

When she was done, she removed two plates from the cabinet and I smiled a little. She served the food, handing me one of the plates. I sat at the small, round table in the kitchen, waiting patiently for her to grab a bottle of wine from the refrigerator and pour some into glasses she'd grabbed from another cabinet. When she sat across from me, we started eating. The sauce was delicious, the spaghetti perfectly cooked, the wine cool, light, and a little fruity. The food was what my stomach needed and her slight smile, when I caught her gaze, was what my heart needed. I still had every intention of killing Wilma when I got the chance, but for now I was content to be sitting across from this amazing woman, wiping spaghetti sauce from my chin.

*

We didn't talk about it again before I left. I didn't want to leave, but it seemed only right considering I'd given Frankie reason to hesitate. Jumping into bed with her didn't seem like the best way to resolve the situation. And I wasn't given an invitation to stay anyway.

It was almost 2am when I found a parking spot and made my way up to my apartment. I was tired, annoyed and frustrated, both emotionally and sexually, and I wasn't in the mood for a fight with Wilma. Little did I know Wilma had a surprise for me, whether I wanted to deal with her or not. When I opened my apartment door, I noticed right away that most of her junk was gone. A quick perusal of the bedroom revealed that all of her stuff was gone. And then, as I started to look around, I noticed that some of my dresser drawers were askew, my closet was wide open...and my Apple laptop was nowhere to be found. As I kept searching, I realized the credit cards I kept for emergencies, which she would know about of course, were gone, as was my ipod, some cash I had lying around, the diamond earrings I'd bought myself for my 35th birthday, a cute little bag I'd just found at Hermes and a few other odds and ends. I could not believe it.

I sat on my sofa, stunned at first, then angry...and then the tears came. It was too much. The ordeal of the last week, the argument earlier this evening, Frankie's disappointment, and now this? It was all just too much.

My cell rang as I was sitting there having a pity party. I snatched it up, thinking it was Wilma calling to tell me it was a joke and she was outside...it wasn't Wilma.

"What's wrong?" That deep, husky voice expressing concern for me just made me cry harder. 

In between my mewling and bawling, I begged her to give me a moment to pull myself together. She waited, pretty patiently, until I calmed down a bit and was just sniffling before she asked again.

"She stole my stuff," I said, sniffling.

"What do you mean?" 

I recited the list of missing things, certain it was not a complete list. When I was done, she was silent again for a few minutes. 

"Call the police."

I recalled having a similar conversation with her the first day we met, when she wanted me to file a report against the homeless men. I was about to disappoint her again.

"I can't do that."

I didn't offer an explanation, none would be satisfactory. She paused for a moment or two again before asking if I had renter's insurance. 

"No, but it's not about replacing the stuff. She knows I can replace it easily. I just can't believe she would do this."

I was upset and not really paying attention to what I'd said or I would never have uttered those words. In fact, I didn't realize what I'd said until she asked, "you can replace thousands of dollars worth of stuff? Easily?"

There was no reason she would know, I mean how could she? I had a normal job, I lived in a pretty normal apartment and I drove a car that was 10 years old. I didn't dress in very expensive clothes and I didn't insist on paying for everything or flaunting my money. But I didn't want to have this conversation right now. Not when I had already put her through the wringer with Wilma. I sighed.

"Can we talk about that another time?" I asked desperately.

"Sure...but I mean..." She paused for a few more moments, "how easily?"

I shook my head and sighed again, "Frankie, you're already lukewarm about me. Do we have to do this now?"

"You're not calling the cops when someone just stole about $10,000 worth of your shit." She insisted. "Why?" 

So I told her. I didn't give her a dollar amount, but I told her about my friend's investments. I told her I worked because I loved my job, not because I needed to. And I told her I drove my Toyota because it was running just fine and didn't need to be replaced. All of that was met by more silence.

"Jeez, if there was ever a day that would make you not want to date me, this is it." I muttered.

For some reason that made her sigh, "is that what you think? That your ex and your bank account would scare me off? You think I'm that insecure?"

I was shaking my head, "no, of course not. It's just that I might seem less than appealing right now..." I trailed off, not sure where I was going or what I was saying.

"Tess?"

She said it softly, her voice heavy and husky...and sexy as all hell.

"Yea?"

"I think you should call the police. I think you should have your locks changed and cancel your credit cards. But first, I think you should get some sleep, okay?"

I nodded, knowing she could not see me.

"I'll see you soon."

And she hung up.

I wasn't sure what she meant when she said she'd see me soon, but after downing a rather large helping of wine, and then some more on top of that, I did as she suggested and crawled into bed, defeated.

*

I thought the pounding was in my head. I shut my eyes tighter, willing myself back to sleep, but it kept on. Different patterns for a long enough time that I was forced to open my eyes and actually sit up...a mistake, given the amount of alcohol I'd consumed just a few hours ago. I finally realized the pounding was not in my head, it was on my front door. God, why the hell had I drunk so much? Slowly I made my way out of bed and headed toward the front door.

"For the love of God, stop fucking pounding!"

I screamed it, although the volume of my voice did not help my head at all.

"Tess, open up! I'm so sorry! Let me in!"

Justine. I approached the door and undid the locks, removing the chain and then stepping back. She entered and pulled me into her arms.

"Are you okay? She called me and told me what she did! Did she really steal your stuff?!"

"Justine, please, you've gotta lower your voice."

She nodded enthusiastically, lowering it, but not enough to suit me.

"She called me this morning, ranting and raving about how she stole your stuff to teach you a lesson. She didn't, did she?"

I sat on the sofa, holding my head, closing my eyes.

"She did."

Justine knelt in front of me, grabbing my hands and holding them tight.

"I'm so sorry. I had no idea Tess, I really didn't. I should have asked you first before I gave her your address. I'm such a fucking idiot!"

I removed my hands from hers and placed them on her cheeks, squeezing gently until her lips puckered.

"Justine, please...just...shut...up."

She nodded when I removed my hands. Then she stood and started looking around the apartment, disappearing into the bedroom.

"Fuck, she took that leather jacket you bought last winter! I wanted to borrow that!" She called from the bedroom.

I shook my head, resting it in my hands again.

"And that black and cream suit you just bought! Fuck!"

In a minute I would stand and grab her by her long, curly locks and kick her out of my apartment. In a minute. As soon as the room stopped spinning. But then someone else knocked on the door. I was certain I had died and gone to hell.

"You have got to be fucking kid—"

I stopped short, surprised to see a man I didn't know standing on my doorstep. He wore jeans and a tee shirt emblazoned with the name of a business. 

"Uh, are you Teresa Martin?" He asked, a little surprised by my greeting.

I nodded and he handed me his card. A locksmith.

"Someone named Frances Young called me this morning and said you needed your locks changed immediately?"

I smiled. I know it was stupid, but it was the nicest thing anyone had done for me in a long time. I nodded, forgetting about the pain bouncing around in my head for a moment, stepping aside so he could get to work. He was fast and efficient. By the time Justine made her way back to the living room, he was finishing up.




Rescued By Each Other



Copyright 2011 by madengineer3

I was entering my least favorite time of the year; Thanksgiving and Christmas. In years past I loved those holidays, especially Thanksgiving. However, I lost my family a year ago. It wasn't disease that took them, it was a drunk driver. 

The driver was a snotty nosed city kid driving the fast sports car his parents had given him. He was on his way home for Thanksgiving break and had enjoyed the frat party a bit too much. But, he was a liberal arts major and thought he had all the answers. He had a blood alcohol level of just over three times the legal limit. At the scene, he kept swearing about the "stupid bitch" in the other car. It was my wife he was speaking of. I had been driving my car ahead of her's. We needed to drop my car off at the dealer's shop to have new tires put on it. It was only the rapid response of the police and my shock that kept me from killing the kid right there. He had killed my wife, son, and daughter. My son, our oldest child, would have graduated from high school in another seven months.

By the time I got turned around and back to the scene, the emergency crew had shown up. They did their best but sometimes your best is not enough.

Anyway, a year had now passed and I was living alone. The kid's insurance company paid me a sum in the seven figure range. They would have probably lost more than that in court. The kid, because he had a rich, politically connected father, got off with a slap on the wrist. He spent six months in a minimum level detention center. (You couldn't call it a prison since there were no fences and you could have as many luxuries as you wanted and could afford.) 

Being alone and depressed is a bad combination. I didn't have the will to do much of anything. I wasn't up to cooking and didn't want to eat a Thanksgiving meal alone, so I went over to the Quick Service Truck Stop. Their food is good and their prices are fair.

Anyway, I decided that having my meal around other people who were also alone for Thanksgiving would be a good idea. I was glad that I didn't have to drive far because the snow was really coming down and there were warnings out for a real blizzard. I figured I had time to get there, eat, and get home again before I was snowed in.

I parked my suv in the parking lot and started to go in to eat my meal. As I was about to enter the restaurant I saw what looked like a middle aged woman with a sign asking for money for food. 

I have no idea why, but I stopped and asked her when she had eaten her last meal. Her response was that it had been about thirty-six hours. With her all bundled up I couldn't make out much about her looks. 

Without even thinking about it I found myself saying "Come on in and join me for a meal. I will pay for whatever meal you want to order. I could use the company."

The woman looked startled, but was very obviously glad for the offer. We entered the restaurant and the truck stop's supervisor came over and started talking to her. 

"Get out, if you aren't going to spend some money here ....." I interrupted; "she's with me and I'm a paying customer. Is there a problem with that?"

He indicated that it was fine. 

We sat in one of the booths and I ordered us coffee to drink while we looked over the menu.

Mary introduced herself.

So, Mary, what do you want for Thanksgiving dinner?"

"I don't even know your name, but thank you for offering to get me some food. I'll take whatever you are ordering. The old saying "beggars can't be choosers" is very true.

"I should have introduced myself; my name is George. I think I'm going to go with the traditional turkey dinner. Don't consider yourself a beggar, pick a meal that you would like."

"Thank you George, the turkey sounds very good."

We waited for our food but didn't talk a lot. Once we were about half way through the meal I asked a question that had been bothering me.

"I don't really want to pry, but what has caused you to be without food for so long?"

Mary had a very sad look on her face. "I lost my job. The economy is tough right now and the lack of income meant that I couldn't afford the rent on my apartment. I didn't have any real friends in the part of the country where I had been living and decided to try to hitch a ride South. I've made it this far and seem to have run out of luck. Having a face as messed up as mine keeps people from wanting to get near me."

We were most of the way through our dinner when the manager of the truck stop got on the public address system. "We have been informed that the state police are going to shut down the interstate in the next half hour. The Sheriff's office is going to be shutting down the county roads as well. Please finish up eating and try to get to home or someplace to ride out the storm. We're going to shut down in twenty minutes to allow our workers to get home."

Suddenly Mary's face showed tears and serious panic. 

"Oh Lord, what am I going to do. They don't want me in here and I have no place of shelter."

"Mary, you don't know me and have no reason to know that I am harmless. However, I will offer you a place to ride out the storm. There will be no strings attached."

"You'd do that?"

"Yes, let's finish up our meal and I'll take you to my place. It's only about fifteen miles from here. I must apologize ahead of time, my housekeeping is not very good."

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

It was an hour later that we arrived at my place. As I drove into the yard the garage door opened and the lights went on in the garage and the kitchen. 

"It looks like someone is expecting you, George."

"Oh, you mean because the lights came on. That's Gandolf, my computer, it monitors for a signal from the car and turns on the lights. The only living beings in the house are my two cats, Frodo and Sam."

We pulled into the garage, I shut the garage door and led Mary into the kitchen. Both of my brave cats hid until they became acquainted with this new stranger, Mary. 

As I shut the kitchen door I got out of my jacket and helped her out of her coat. 

"How long had you been standing in the cold, when I came along?"

"About six hours."

"O.K. then, let me make a suggestion. First I will show you the guest room. It has a small attached bathroom and there are good locks on the bathroom door as well as the guest room door. You look to be about the same size as my wife was so there should be a robe, night-gown, and slippers, that will fit you, in the guest room closet. Take a nice hot soak in the tub. If you just want to go to sleep afterwards just stay in your room for the night. If you want to come out and talk that's also fine. Either tonight, or in the morning, you can use my washer and drier for any clothes you want to clean."

I led her to the room, went to the closet and got out a flannel night-gown, terry robe, and fur lined slippers. 

"George, why are you being so kind to me?"

"You need help and I have the means to help you. My belief system requires that I treat people like I would like to be treated. That's enough for me."

Mary had a strange look on her face and went into her room. I could hear the click of the lock and then the water running.

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

As it turned out, Mary took her bath and then went to bed. She woke up mid-morning on the next day. She put on the robe and slippers and walked toward the smell of fresh coffee.

"Morning Mary! I made coffee cake, for after breakfast, and there is fresh coffee. What would you like for breakfast?"

"Good morning George. You are being very kind to me. Thank you. Have you eaten?"

"Nope! I wanted to share breakfast with you. What would you like?"

"I'll have whatever you are having, thank you."

"Do you like pancakes?"

"I love them."

"Well, why don't you take your coffee back to your room and look in the closet to find some clothes that will fit you. By the time you are done I'll be well on the way with the pancakes."

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

When Mary came back in she had on slacks and a short sleeved shirt. 

Within fifteen minutes the pancakes were done. When we sat at the table I returned thanks for the meal and started to eat. I couldn't help notice the bad bruising and scars on Mary's arms and face. I knew, however, that asking about them at the moment would be rude.

"So, George, after I get my clothes washed and dried will you be dropping me back at the truck stop?"

"I can't do that for a while yet. Our county is under a state of emergency and the roads are all closed. They aren't even sending the plows out. We have really gotten snowed in. Don't worry though I have a full pantry and emergency power so we'll do just fine. I hope you don't mind sticking around for a few days."

"Mind??, It will truly be my pleasure. Thank you for your kindness. I'd like to ask a question, but I'm not sure if it is polite to ask."

"Go ahead, Mary, ask away. I may choose not to answer but the asking is just fine."

"I saw the pictures on the wall in the guest room. There were pictures of a lovely lady, and two good looking children. Are they relatives of yours?"

"They were........ They were my wife and kids..... They died last year about this time. A drunk driver killed them."

"Oh, I'm sorry I asked. I don't want to open up old wounds."

"Actually, that is the reason I would rather not be alone for the next little bit. Having human interaction helps me from getting too depressed. When we're done eating I'll show you around the house and then I'll do the dishes."

I showed Mary the house. After she started the washer with all of her clothes in it I brought her back to my little library. 

"If you like to read, help yourself. I'm going into my office and do some work."

"You actually work from home?"

"Yes, I own my own little one man company and work from home."

"What do you do?"

"I do engineering work for people and/or companies. When I don't have to do that I write short stories for the fun of it."

I excused myself and got a few hours work done. Around two in the afternoon I realized that I was getting hungry. I went to the living room. I almost didn't recognize it. Mary had really cleaned the living room and it looked good.

Thank you for neatening up the living room. I'm really not a very good housekeeper. "Are you up for some lunch?"

"Yes, that sounds good."

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

We had a leisurely lunch and I went back to my work.

At about six that night I wrapped up work for the day and started in on supper. By that time the kitchen, wash room, and dining room had been cleaned and neatened. It was almost like my wife used to keep it. I heated up some left over beef stew. I asked Mary if she was O.K. with alcohol. She was. After dinner I made us both the same type of mixed drinks and let Mary pick the one she wanted. (I didn't want her to think I might have "spiked" her drink.)

It was my turn to be inquisitive.

"I hope I'm not prying too much but I'd like to ask you a couple of questions. Is that O.K., Mary?"

"Yes, but you might not like the answers."

"How did you get all the physical damage. The minor distortion in the lines of your face and some of those bruises and scars look serious."

"A man decided he didn't want to pay for something I provided and he beat me up. I've had three severe beatings in the last year."

"You reported him to the police, didn't you?"

"No, the police don't usually protect people who were in my line of work."

I decided to drop the questioning there. I had a pretty good idea of what she had been doing. There was no reason to embarrass her.

A long pause ensued. Finally Mary spoke.

"You seemed to stop asking questions rather quickly. Is there something wrong?"

"No, I suspect I know the answer to my next questions and I didn't want to embarrass you by asking them."

"What did you assume?"

"I suspect that you involuntarily got involved with the 'second oldest profession". In my book the oldest and lowest profession is reserved for lifelong politicians."

"You assumed that and yet were concerned about my feelings? You are a very strange man, George. I will fill you in on some of the details. When I was a junior in high school my parents died. Because I had to repeat a grade in elementary school I was eighteen at that time. I didn't have any significant skill or training. I had to do something to let me rent an apartment and buy food. The economy was very bad even then. A friend knew a friend, etc. who was in the adult film business. I agreed to do four films for them in return for enough money to rent a low end apartment and stock the shelves and refrigerator with food. After about three years I got mugged on my way home. The scarring on my face couldn't be covered over with a reasonable amount of makeup. That shut off that form of income. The only other thing I was good at led me into prostitution. I don't like it. It is dangerous, as my scars prove, but it put food on my table. The last beating I took was serious. The emergency room doctor told me that the X-rays told him that my cumulative facial damage could cause severe damage or death if it happened again. My nose had been broken right up between the eye sockets and there was a skull fracture along my left temple. That is why I had to move. Are you going to make me leave because of this?"

"No, Mary. I'm not here to judge. I am very sorry you have had such a rough life. As I have gotten more acquainted with your face I am reminded of an adult actress named Kitten V. I enjoyed looking at her. She was very special to me in a way I couldn't explain. I have several movies with her in them. She was the reason I purchased the disks. You are welcome to stay if you wish. I will treat you as a lady. That is how I was brought up."

"Thank you George. You are right; I was billed as Kitten V. Tell me something about your background."

"I was one of those 'geeks' in school. My nose was always in a math or science book. After high school I went to college and eventually earned a Ph.D. in Engineering Physics and passed the Professional Engineer's test. That is what I use to earn my living. My wife, who had a master's degree in mathematics, was my first love. We were designed to be with each other. Her loss has been harder to live with than the loss of my children."

It became silent for a while. Eventually it was late enough so that we went to bed, in our own rooms. 

In the morning, after breakfast, I told Mary I wanted to go outside and check to see if there was any ice build up along the eves of the house. I brought along a solid garden rake to knock down any dangerous looking build ups. I was almost done when I heard a loud "crack" and then I went out like a light.

I awoke in my bed. Mary was sitting next to the bed, reading. 

"Owwwwww, my head hurts and my stomach's upset. I'm going to be sick!"

Mary placed a stainless steel bowl to catch my vomit. After the vomiting passed I asked;

"What happened?"

"You were outside when a branch on the tree, outside the kitchen, broke off and hit you. You have been out for almost a day and a half. Unfortunately, I had been reading and it was about forty minutes before I noticed that you weren't around. It took me quite a while to get you into the house. I brought you in, dragged you into your bathroom. When I talked to the people at the emergency room they indicated that you needed to be warmed up and then kept still for several hours. They also wanted me to check your pupilary reflex to see if there had been a bleed in your head. I removed your clothes and placed you in a tub of warm water. I kept the water warm for a good hour. Then I dried you off slid you onto a big towel and dragged you to your bed."

"Could you get me some pain killer and a cup of soup?"

"I can bring you the soup but I need to watch for signs of a concussion now that you're awake. I'll be back in a couple of minutes."



"Mary, ...... thank you! You probably saved my life. Had I been alone I'd still be out there."

Mary smiled and left the room.

*********

While I was drinking my cup of tomato soup Mary sat there next to my bed. It was obvious that she was extremely tired.

"Why don't you go and get some sleep? I'll be O.K. here."

"I don't want to run the risk of having you need help and not be able to wake me."

"There is a simple solution; get your night-gown on and use the other half of my bed. I promise that I will behave properly. You'd be safe."

Mary grinned and was back and ready to sleep a short time later.

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

It was a good sleep.

Almost a full week passed before the roads were all cleared out. Mary was obviously becoming depressed. It came to a head during dinner one evening.

"George, when are you going to want me to leave?"

"Who says I want you to leave? You know that you can leave at any time you wish."

"You mean that I don't have to leave?" The surprise in Mary's voice was obvious.

"No, you don't. I had forgotten how nice it was to eat with someone else. I had forgotten that having a conversation with someone else could be such a pleasure. Your presence takes the gloom off this house. If I could have my druthers I would have you stay permanently. I could offer you pay, medical insurance, room and board. Whatever it would take to having you here. You take care of the cleaning very nicely. I'm afraid I'm a bit of a slob when it comes to housekeeping. Beside that, I have grown very fond of you!"

Mary was quietly crying.

"Did I say something wrong, Mary?"

"No, no, no, .... it's just that you have just answered a prayer I've had for the last three days. You are a breath of fresh air to me. I had developed a rather low opinion of people, men in particular. But here, you treat me as a lady even though you know what I have done in the past. You seem to ignore my scars. All I can say is thank you, staying here would be a great gift to me."

"You're welcome. Now, I want to suggest something. I have a very good doctor. She's very thorough and likable. I also have a good dentist. I would like to make appointments, with both or them, for you. Whatever is needed I will have it covered at no expense to you. I'll go make the appointments, if you don't object."

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

A year has now passed. It has been a good year for both Mary and George. Mary attended and then joined George's church. She began to see how very special George really was. For Mary life was looking up, but in some ways life was also empty. 

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

It was a few days before Christmas when we emotionally "turned a corner". We were reading and enjoying a good fire in the fireplace.

Mary started the ball rolling.

"George, I've got a very personal question for you. Would you mind if I ask it?"

"Be my guest."

"I've seen you, many times, with an obvious erection. Even then I didn't see you look at me differently. Is it my looks that keep you from showing your needs and feelings?"

"No, I don't even consider your looks any more. It's just that I don't want to lose control and treat you other than as a lady. I value you too much for that..... That's not quite it, it's because I love you too much. If I started I couldn't easily stop. It's like when you are pissing in the toilet, once you start it is exceedingly difficult to stop. Beside that I've never seen any indication of interest from you."

"It must be true that some guys are slow on the pickup when emotional signals are involved. I've tried to get your attention. What makes you think that I wouldn't be interested in some attention like that?"

"It had never dawned on me. Are you saying that you would like to move our relationship to a more personal level?"

"Yes, very much so."

"O.K., lets lay down some ground rules. I believe that intercourse is for marriage. Other than that I tend to be very open minded."




Rescued By Each Other



"I like your position. Let's move our positions to the sofa."

We made out like sex starved teenagers for the next hour or two. By the end of that time we were both nude and very aroused.

"Let's go in and try out my whirlpool bath, Mary. Does that sound like a reasonable idea?"

She got up off the couch, took my arm, and dragged me toward my bedroom. Fifteen minutes later the ceiling heat lamps were on, the water heaters and pumps were on, and we were in the whirlpool bath hugging each other.

After about twenty minutes of very heavy "petting" I told Mary to move so that she was sitting on the edge of the tub with her feet in the water. She had an incredulous look on her face.

I moved over, kissed all around her pussy lips and then proceeded to "eat her out". She came multiple times before she stopped me.

"Wow, that was good! I have never had a lover eat me out except when I made those movies. And of course those people were simply other actors, not lovers. You have no idea how great a gift you have given me. Let me return the favor."

She had me change places with her and gave me the best blow job I have ever had. If it were possible I'm sure that steam would have been coming off my head.

We got out of the bath, dried off, and went to my bed. It was only a short time later that we were greatly enjoying a good session of sixty-nine. That night we slept better than either of us had slept for a long time.

The following day, Christmas Eve, I went into town to buy some last minute purchases. When I got home we put up the Christmas tree, put on some Christmas music, turned the lights out and watched the colored lights on the tree while we cuddled.

We were both lost in each other and in the music. Mary commented that things were as close to perfect as they could be.

"Are you sure about that?"

"I think so, George, can you think of a way to improve the mood?"

"Yup, I'll be right back." I went to the tree and retrieved a small package.

"Please open your Christmas present."

Mary stared at the box and with shaking fingers she unwrapped it. Inside the paper was a small cardboard box that contained a velvet bag.

"Please open the bag, Mary."

"This can't be what I think it is."

"Well, open it and see."

The bag contained a diamond solitaire mounted in a simple platinum band. As she took it out I got off the sofa and knelt at her feet.

"Would you marry me, Mary?"

Mary burst out crying repeating the word "Yes!" over and over.

"I've got another surprise for you. I called Pastor Dave a couple of days ago and he agreed to do a simple marriage before we got the license. We can be one in God's sight in ten minutes if you are interested."

Fifteen minutes later we were, in the church's eyes, married.

"Wife of mine, I'd like to take you to bed. What do you say?"

Mary grabbed me by the penis and dragged me to our bedroom. 

We decided to warm up with our favorite exercise; a good session of sixty-nine. I would like to say that we tried every intercourse position in the book, but that's for the movies not real life. Mary rode me "cowgirl style" and we did it doggie style as well. Then we took a hot shower, together, and went to sleep for the night.

In the morning, as Mary opened her eyes I said; "good morning wife of mine".

"I love the sound of that, husband of mine. I love you."

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

So it was that Mary rescued me from depression and I rescued her from poverty. The Lord rescued both of us so that we could become one!!



Rescued by the Barbarian



When I finally arrived at the Moghul court I had proudly and gladly entered the household of the Moghul's grand General as his favourite. I now lived in the General's wing of the Moghul's great sprawling marble palace, with its glittering white domes and cool colonnades, its tiled courtyards, enclosed gardens and splashing fountains.

I had been put into training immediately for a high position under the grand General in the Moghul's vast army. And I had trained hard and was fast becoming more muscular and athletic than I had been before I arrived, working hard to prove myself worthy of the high position the General had made available for me. In spite of being the grand General's favourite I knew I would not keep my high military position unless I proved to be a satisfactory commander. 

I now saw myself making my fortune through the plunder I could take, and the rewards handed out to those who led the Great Moghul's victorious armies in battle against his enemies.

When I was not sweating and proving myself to the grand General upon the training grounds that lay in the valley behind the great palace, I proved myself to him upon his couch inside the palace. And in every way I lived a life of great comfort and much pleasure. 

Now as I stood upon the fine brightly coloured mosaic floor of the marble bathing hall with its finely worked pictures of plants and animals, a lean but muscular bath attendant poured scented water over me to rinse off the sweat and dust of the training ground. And while I was bathed I thought further about my situation. Having helped the Moghul's grand General to escape humiliation at the hand's of the mighty barbarian Konan I had gained myself my present high place in the great Moghul's court. 

But I sometimes wondered if I had made the right decision. 

Yes, I was sure there had been nothing but a rough and dangerous life ahead of me if I had stayed with Konan and his barbarian companions. But I had never been taken so well as the great muscular Konan had taken me, nor felt such pleasure as his massive weapon had given me. Nor had I ever trembled and writhed, or cried out and moaned as he had made me when his great weapon was driving in and out of me.

Not that the grand General did not satisfy me. He was a finely made man of large appetites and with a goodly sized weapon, which he took great pleasure in exercising inside me. And he had introduced me quickly to the pleasures he enjoyed and I had thanked the gods for the virility that let me enjoy them frequently.

He enjoyed particularly working his weapon inside my passage while I worked mine in some other fine young soldier's channel. And often he ran his fingers into me bedside his pumping weapon to gain extra pleasure, and I still cried out with passion when he did this. I was already extremely open from good use and able to take any man in the Moghul's court with ease. 

Many young men of the great General's company were also well equipped, and showed their considerable experience in the way they handled their weapons when working them inside me. But I felt a hopeless longing for one man's weapon still. I longed for the great barbarian Konan's great meaty sword, plowing me deeply. None could match the great length and thickness, as well as the stamina of that muscular giant of a barbarian who had first taken me in my palanquin on my journey to the Moghul's palace.

My thoughts had stiffened my own weapon and the muscular bath attendant, knowing my desires well, had dropped to his knees behind me, separating my cheeks so he could get his mouth to my well-used entrance. He tongued me eagerly and. I leaned forward against a nearby marble column and sighed and made happy little noises as his tongue speared inside me. Then I moaned and wriggled my arse back to him as his tongue shared my loosening opening with his long fingers. 

A passing young commander of good physique observed my own long hardening tool hanging down unattended and stepped in beside me and ran his fingers about it in a way I had never felt before, as he brought his mouth to mine for a kiss. I was well engaged now and all thoughts of the barbarian Konan had fled. After some dueling of tongues I pushed the young commander to his knees as the man behind me finally fed his weapon into me. Once he was buried to the hilt I rocked my hips in time with his pumping of me and made good use of the young commander's face, quickly filling his throat with my juice.

I then saw that the young commander's own weapon was erect and throbbing as he knelt beside me on the brightly patterned mosaic floor of the hall. I pulled him up and sucked him in to my mouth and showed my pleasure at his hardness by taking his creamy juice and swallowing it gladly as my own tunnel was being given a final thrusting filling by the attendant behind me.

Once the attendant had withdrawn his weapon from my passage I could only think of Konan's huge size and knew I needed more than the attendant had to offer me to be truly satisfied.

I left the bathing hall and walked naked through the cool corridors of the palace to my fine apartments where I collapsed upon the down filled silk pillows of my canopied bed. I sighed, knowing that the grand General himself would soon arrive, having had to speak to his commanders before he bathed and relaxed with me. He was not Konan, but he always worked his weapon well inside me and I lay there stroking myself in readiness, but dreaming of Konan as I waited. 

Suddenly there were noises and shouts in the passage beyond the fine gauze curtains at the archway that led into my apartment and I lifted myself up to pay attention. I thought I heard a familiar voice and my heart and cock leapt, but I knew I only imagined it. The noises got closer though until suddenly there was Konan being led into my chamber in chains. He was struggling with the guards leading him, but then he stopped, as if frozen, when he spied me lying naked amongst my silken cushions.

Konan fixed his eyes on me, raking my body from foot to head with his glance, and his eyes burned with anger but also with something else. I was overcome by the sight of him having been told that he was dead.

"So, my fine young nobleman, again I find you lying indolently among your rich finery. But this time I am a prisoner dragged into your presence, not a bandit waylaying you," he said with arrogance. "So why have you had me brought here?" 

"I was told you were dead," I said foolishly, as he quite obviously wasn't. 

Konan's body was gleaming from the sheen of sweat filming it and I saw his great muscles were as full and round as ever. He was breathing heavily from his exertions and this was making his chest swell and fall, the golden muscles shimmering with each breath.

I rose up on my bed, kneeling with my tool in my hand still hardening and lengthening, my thighs spread wide and my arse pushed back in anticipation. I was immediately filled with lust and unable to lift my eyes from Konan's huge, partly engorged weapon. It hung between his great muscled thighs like a club and I desperately wanted it to beat its way inside me. I moaned at the memory of how well it had filled and pounded me a few months before. 

"Well I am not dead," he replied stepping forward, "And I ask you again, why does the fine young nobleman who betrayed me to the Moghul's grand General wish to see me?"

"I did not ask to see you," I replied confused, knowing how I had ached to see him though I had been told he'd been killed after the grand General's escape.

The guards I suddenly realised were linking Konan's chains about the nearest of the slender delicately carved marble columns that circled my chamber supporting the domed ceiling. 

"Ahhh," Konan sighed, now eying me all over in such a way that not only was my weapon hardening but my breathing was becoming uneven and my rim twitched. 

Konan moved his arms, testing his loose chains and moving towards me as he did so. The guards stood back smiling and I was afraid of what Konan might do to me for having betrayed him. But I was unable to move away and remained kneeling among my cushions. The great barbarian stopped at the foot of my bed before reaching out his arms to grip my thighs and topple me over backwards among the soft down pillows. Then he was gripping my ankles in his great hands and pulling me towards him. 

The barbarian had lost none of his strength and moving his hands to my hips lifted them easily. I trembled knowing that even as well used as I now was I couldn't take his great weapon inside my slick passage without some preparation. Lifting my hips higher he slid my arse off the bed and up his belly closer to his face and I widened my thighs and my legs flopped back so my feet rested wide out from the sides of my twisted head and shoulders. 

Then Konan's mouth was on my entrance and I pawed at my cushions and silken sheets and cried out in small cries as he roughly wet down and opened me. I kicked my legs about and he stopped and grabbing an ankle twisted one of his chains about it, holding it wide, then he caught my other ankle in the same way. I hung now from the chains coming from the columns, my arse level with his great pecs my arms still pawing at the bed to steady me as I hung swaying from the chains.

Then his tongue was rimming me and his great fingers were entering and probing me as I moaned and tried to steady myself against the bed but his fingers plowed me shaking me about, and he rocked me back and forth on the chains as he rotated and spread his four fingers in my passage. I was soon moaning with pleasure hardly aware of the pain of the chains digging into me. Then he flipped the chains off my ankles, dropping me on the bed and with a great grunt came down over me biting at my nipples and then my neck as he pressed the head of his huge tool at my entrance.

"Yes Konan. Yes!" I gasped, even as I pulled my thighs wide and steeled myself for the pain of his entry. 

I screamed as he pushed his cap past my rim and entered me, I wanted him still but I was certainly not prepared. He stopped and bent to kiss my mouth and grasped my weapon, my hands trembling as I used them to tease his own big hard nipples. Then he moved in deeper and I wailed and twisted about trying to widen myself for him. Finally he had taken possession of me and I groaned and cried out as he began to move inside me. He used my hips like handles, gripping them in his great hands so he could twist and rock me. His huge weapon moved about inside my channel as it never had before, reaching and testing hidden parts of me, straining me so I thought I might be torn apart. I yelled and moaned with pleasure to have him stretch and stroke me so, quickly coming in fountains of cream across my belly and my fine silk pillows and still he worked himself inside me. 

"So you moan for this giant as you never moaned for me," I heard the grand General's voice say as a final pulse of juice spilt from my weapon. "Oh no," I cried, "No, I moan as well for you," I gasped. Then the Generals tool was in my gaping mouth and I struggled to suck it as he took my head between his hands and pulled me back and forth. 

For a moment I had wondered at the General's words but was immediately lost in my sucking and opening my throat for the grand General's own large tool. Both men worked me hard, my body rocking back and forth, and soon I knew they were each trying to outlast the other. 

My jaw was beginning to cramp up and my entrance throbbed as my gut spasmed when I heard the pounding in my ears as Konan pressed his thumb into the slit in my cock head seeming to release my pent up juices again in a sudden flood while the general spurted his seed down my throat. Once the general withdrew from my mouth I cried out and moaned as Konan continued to plow me deeply.

"It seems only this barbarian can truly satisfy you," the General said angrily, and I could do no more than paw at my silken pillows and roll my head in mindless ecstasy in response.

"Did you think otherwise?" Konan replied in a deep rumbling voice, his hands stroking my body as I rocked with his pounding rhythm.

"I do not want a man who cannot be satisfied by me," the General said. "If only this great barbarian can satisfy you young prince, then you may join him in the dungeons."

I caught the General's words and wanted to plead with him that he was man enough for me, though my arching, writhing body and loud helpless moans of pleasure made it clear I would be lying. Konan finally chose that moment to fill me with his own hot seed and I was unable to get the words out anyway as his weapon throbbed inside me. I moaned loudly as I felt his juices flood deep inside me and my entrance closed on his huge weapon and held it as it pumped another issue of his seed into me.

"Take them away," the General ordered.

Konan pulled out of me with a soggy slurp, and able to move at last I turned my head, "No. No." I cried after the grand General's departing back, seeing my fine life and great and prosperous future fading fast. "No. No!" I screamed in an agony of despair. 

Konan bent and gripped my chin and kissed me deeply then winked at me and I wondered if he had gone mad, or was glad I would be joining him in the palace dungeons. Which was also madness form my point of view. But then he stood and flexed the great muscles of his chest and arms before suddenly jerking his fists together. Nothing discernible happened. Then he jerked his arms together again, pulling on his chains, strain showing in his face, and I heard a great crack. 

I rose up among my silken pillows, still recovering my senses as his juice ran out of my hole and down my thighs, and I saw the stone columns Konan had been chained too broken in several places and beginning to fall apart. I gaped in awe at this proof of his huge strength. Then I saw the guards were looking up at the marble dome of the ceiling, which seemed to crack and shudder as I stared up at it with them. A sudden great cracking noise sent the guards fleeing into the passageway yelling in panic.

Konan grabbed my arm and pulled me up, "Time we left here my fine young nobleman," he said, smiling. I jumped to the floor and stayed close by him as he heaved his chains free, wrapping the loose lengths about his shoulders as we ran for the walled garden beyond my apartment. 

Konan climbed the garden wall easily and pulled me up behind him. But at the sound of a great crash I turned to look back, only to see the dome of my fine apartments reduced to a cloud of white dust, which quickly engulfed us. 

"Now to get rid of these chains," Konan cried, as we dropped from the wall and he ran like the wind along the deserted pathway behind the wall, pulling me along behind him in the direction of the stables.



Rescued by the Bartender



He coughed and put the empty shot glass down on the bar, blinking rapidly as the whisky burned its way into his stomach. Shaking his head, he turned and blanched as he watched her at the opposite end of the bar.

Hannah tossed her long blonde curls over a bare shoulder with a laugh, her blood-red dress making her a beacon of beauty that men just couldn't seem to resist.

Joel slumped onto a barstool as the surreal angel delicately accepted a long-stemmed wineglass from another suitor, and ordered himself a beer from the closest bartender. The young man dropped the cold bottle beside his arm and leaned over, a brow arched. 

"Why don't you buy her a drink, friend? I can take it over myself."

Joel smiled and shook his head. "No need, bud," he turned to meet the cheerful brown eyes of the bartender. "That's my wife." 

***

The young bartender's name was Jesse so, and became a good friend of Joel's as he and Hannah frequented the bar. He told Jesse very little about them, but the bartender came to his own conclusions as Joel drank beer and threw back shots while his wife flirted openly with dozens of men each weekend.

They never left with a man, always arriving and leaving together. No phone numbers were ever exchanged, and Jesse idly began to wonder if it was some weird kink that the couple had going on. He observed them with growing curiosity, and one night he chanced upon just the moment he was seeking.

Joel had been watching, taking more shots than normal, and Hannah was wearing a dress that revealed she wasn't wearing a bra. A taller black gentleman had been beside her for more than an hour when Joel spied a dark hand sliding between her thighs.

He groaned, dropping his head to the counter with a wave of his hand.

"I think she's finally found one," Joel said, sotto voce, answering the younger man's unasked question with a knowing smile and a double shot of whisky. Joel threw it back quickly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he coughed.

"What's the deal, Joel?" Jesse propped himself on the edge of the bar, a dark brow rising as he looked over to Hannah and the stranger, who began to kiss noisily only a few seats down the row from her husband.

Joel shrugged and patted his pockets, searching for his cigarettes to distract himself from thoughts as a dark hand slipped inside the gaping neckline of his wife's dress.

"She's got this fantasy of screwing another guy while I watch, unable to do anything." He lit his smoke with a shaking hand as Hannah giggled sexily in response to the man's overt flirtations. "I agreed she could have it. I just told her I had to watch her pick the guy."

Jesse nodded, and sat another double on the bar. He shook his head when Joel reached for his wallet. "This one's on me, amigo. It can't be easy, watching your wife find a new dick to play with."

His candor drew a laugh from Joel, who raised the glass in silent toast before tossing it back.

"You got that right!" Joel slumped back into his barstool, trying not to be too obvious about watching his wife being pawed in public. He blinked as he felt his cock stir in his pants, watching the imposing black guy practically finger his wife in the crowded bar.

The man pulled her to her feet, and she hastily shoved the material of her skirt back down over her thighs before she was whisked away into the crowd.

Joel straightened, rising in his seat, and watched as the two started to dance. 'Sure, if that's what you call grinding on the dance floor these days,' he thought, and he asked Jesse for a water.

His head was buzzing pleasantly after several double shots and a few beers, but getting drunk wasn't his goal tonight. Realizing that Hannah had possibly made her choice was driving him close to the edge, and he was nervous at the prospect of watching the big man ravage his wife.

He turned around, sipping at the water while tapping the ashes off of his cigarette, and lifted his gaze to the TV up in the corner behind the bar. There was never anything good on in a bar, but apparently this one was different, and Joel watched a few minutes of what looked like a televised tattooing competition as he finished his smoke.

An alarm went off on his phone, which he pulled from his breast pocket. Eyes widening, he blinked at the glowing display that said it was almost two in the morning. 'Jesus!' he thought, shaking his head. 'Tonight flew by!'

Someone cried out behind him, and Joel spun around on the barstool as Jesse came over the counter with a baseball bat in hand.

A man growled menacingly, and the people on the dance floor parted quickly at the bartender's approach. Joel paled when he saw his wife struggling against the black man, her cheeks pink with anger, her upper arm trapped within his firm grip.

"We don't tolerate violence in the bar, man." Jesse's voice was stern, and audible even over the music that poured from the speakers around the room. "You're being rough with a lady who doesn't appear willing, so that means you're out for the night."

"This little trick?" said the black man, motioning to Hannah, his anger clearly evident. "You don't even know what this bitch sai-" he continued, only to double over with a sudden grunt as the rounded end of the bat was punched into his stomach.

"I don't give a shit. There's no reason to touch a woman in anger, and calling her names might be detrimental to your health." Jesse practically spit as he swung the bat lazily beside his leg. "Now, I suggest you straighten your sorry ass up, and get it out of my bar."

Returning to his feet, the stranger glared at Jesse and slowly made his way to the exit while rubbing his stomach. The patrons cheered, many flipping him off as he shoved his way out the door.

"Sorry about the drama, folks!" Jesse raised his voice and waved as lights flickered on throughout the big room. "It's last call, so get a drink while you can. We close in thirty minutes!"

He leaned down, offering a hand to Hannah, who shakily accepted it before standing and walking over to Joel. She buried her face in his chest as he wrapped his arms around her, murmuring soothing words into her soft hair.

A couple of drinks were set beside them as Jesse and the two other bartenders worked behind the bar to fill the rush of orders thrown at them. Hannah lifted the glass of red and orange liquid, raising a brow at the young woman who'd placed it before her.

"It's a sex on the beach, hon," the petite brunette smiled, handing her a tall glass. "It's sweet," she added, before dashing away with three big bottles toward the trash.

***

"Hey, don't you guys worry about leaving, okay?" Jesse used a rag to clean the nozzles on the soda fountain, looking up at Joel and Hannah as bouncers and bartenders alike started moving through the patrons, encouraging them to leave.

"You're friends of mine, and what with that big guy nearly getting all 'Hulk smash' on your wife, I'd feel better if you stay inside." Jesse sat two more drinks in front of them before continuing his cleaning work behind the bar.

Hannah turned and smiled up at Joel. "So you told him I'm your wife?"

"Of course I did." Joel sipped at his bourbon and cola. "I made friends with him while we watched you go through prospects." He laughed as she screwed up her face and slapped his arm, falling against him with a giggle.

"God, I think I'm drunk!" She took a long drink and smacked her lips, smiling over at the young man who worked diligently, laughing and talking with his co-workers. "He's cute, isn't he?"

"I'm drunk, too, woman," Joel stated, "but not that drunk!" He chuckled, but couldn't help the flash that came to his mind of the darker, tanned skin against his wife's pale flesh, and coughed a little as he shifted to ease the sudden constriction in his jeans.

Hannah giggled, and came to her feet as Jesse rounded the end of the bar, nearly launching herself at him as he stopped beside Joel.

"My hero!" She stood on her tiptoes as Jesse's arms came around her, and she pressed her lips to his in a sudden kiss.

Jesse's eyes widened, meeting Joel's, who nodded, and he kissed the sauced blonde thoroughly, setting her back on her feet with a laugh.

"Well, you're welcome, senora. It's part of my job." He spun his keys in his hand. "It's also my job to make sure patrons drink responsibly, and you two are drunk. I'd like to give you a ride home, since that was partly my fault."

Hannah and Joel accepted, knowing they weren't fit to drive, and waited patiently outside by a Jeep as Jesse locked up the bar.

Hannah called shotgun, and Joel climbed into the backseat with a good-natured groan. Within minutes, they were on the road, and Hannah had her bare feet on Jesse's dash; the wind whipped through the open-air Jeep, making Hannah's hair fly, and she giggled as she tried to keep her skirt down.

Amid drunken directions, missed turns and careless laughter, they pulled up in their driveway forty minutes later, and the married couple spilled themselves out of the car.

"Won't you come in?" Hannah flirted, and Jesse swallowed thickly as he stared down at the pretty blonde's chest. Her nipples were sharp peaks, poking against the bright red dress, and he cast a glance toward Joel, who was unlocking the front door.

Jesse felt his cock twitch, recalling Hannah's fantasy, and thinking of the look on her face as the stranger had fingered her at the bar. Trying not to appear too eager, he nodded. "Yes, yes I will."

Hannah's smile was brilliant as she grabbed his hand, tangling her fingers in his as she headed for the door, dragging the bartender along behind her.

"Joel, dear, Jesse's gonna hang out with us for a little bit!" She pointed to the couch, and a grinning Jesse obediently took a seat. "I have to go to the little girl's room, so I'll be right back!" She laughed and practically skipped down a hallway, pale hair bouncing.

Joel came in from the kitchen holding two beers, and passed one to Jesse before dropping himself into the recliner. He popped the cap off, and took a long pull before looking up at the younger man.

"You know what's gonna happen, right?"

Jesse nodded.

"She picked you. I knew it as soon as she kissed you in the bar that she wanted you." Joel took another long drink of his beer, and returned the nod. "I'm okay with this. You're a good guy, and I'm not as nervous, knowing it's gonna be you."

Jesse chugged some of his beer, and wiped a palm down along his thigh. "I think I'm nervous enough for the both of us, really."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, until both men looked up from their beers when they heard Hannah clear her throat.

She was a vision in fuchsia, and the two men stared in anticipation as she did a slow turn, the wispy chemise fluttering to reveal that she wore no panties, and Joel dropped his head back against the couch. Hannah grinned, and sauntered over to stand before Jesse, running her hands from her breasts to the curve of her hips.

"Do you like it?" She blatantly ignored her husband, and Jesse felt his cock filling again, pushing against the tight denim of his jeans as he trailed his eyes up to her breasts.

Dark hair shifted as he nodded, and Hannah giggled before putting her hands on his chest to push him back against the couch. His eyes widened as she straddled his lap, nearly purring as her bare pussy rubbed hard against the bulge of his erection.

He couldn't help but glance over at Joel, who sat staring at them, draining his beer in one long swallow as he shifted to better take in the sight of his wife riding another man.

"I want you to watch us." Hannah's voice was hot, commanding, and Jesse tipped his head back to look up at her. She was staring back at Joel, her lips curled in a strange little smile. "I want you to watch as he fucks me...as he fills me with his hard cock...does things to me only you have ever done..."

Jesse's cock twitched, and he nearly groaned as Hannah ground down onto it, and pressed her breasts against his face. 

Instinctively, his hands went around her hips, cupping her ass and squeezing roughly, pulling her tightly against him as he took one of her pretty nipples into his mouth with a hungry growl.

Joel made a low sound and shifted, his palms itching to smack the round ass that was clutched in Jesse's hands. He cupped himself over his jeans, rubbing lightly as Hannah's fingers ran through the younger man's hair.

He couldn't believe it would be this hot; didn't want to believe he'd be so turned on watching another man take his willing wife. He felt disconnected from his own body as the fuchsia nightie he'd bought her for their last anniversary was slipped from her body by someone else.

Hannah wriggled on Jesse's lap, completely naked, her head tossed back as he nibbled and bit her nipples. His touch was so different from Joel's, and she looked over at him, saw his hand resting over his cock, and she tutted. "No touching unless I tell you it's okay."

She felt more than heard Jesse's agreeing murmur, and whimpered as the fingers on her ass shifted, one sliding into her aching slit; she pulled lightly at his hair and begged for more.

Joel watched as Jesse smiled in agreement before flipping her off of him, onto her back on the couch. He gripped at the empty beer bottle and searched for his cigarettes while watching Jesse slide to the floor, one hand fumbling at his belt buckle as he knelt on the carpet.

The younger man's cock seemed to jump into the cool air of the room, and Joel discarded the smoke, almost choking as he stared at a cock thicker than his own.

Jesse tugged on Hannah's thighs, pulling her hips to the edge of the cushions. She moaned long and low as he opened her wide, his head dipping to lap at her clit as two fingers found their way inside her opening.

She lifted one leg, resting her foot on his back as his mouth worked at her, his tongue fluttering and flicking at the tight nubbin above his moving fingers. She panted low as he twisted, thrusted, curled and flicked inside her body, and in minutes she found her muscles tightening, her back arching.

Joel felt his cock weeping, straining inside his jeans as he watched his wife being fingered and eaten. She was so sexy, sprawled on their couch, whispering breathy profanities to the young Latino feasting on her wet treasure, his fingers fucking her fast and hard. He balled his fists as Hannah's fingers tightened in Jesse's dark curls, and he groaned as she cried out in orgasm.

Jesse laughed softly, burying his chuckles in Hannah's quivering pussy as he continued to slowly lick at her clit. He suckled gently, making her jerk, and he slipped his fingers down, teasing the wet digits against the tight pucker of her asshole.

"Has he taken you there, pretty coño?" His lips brushed her, and his tongue curled over her clit. Joel sat watching, tense as a bowstring. He'd tried on numerous occasions to get Hannah to experiment with anal sex, but she'd always remained adamant, and moaned quietly while shaking her head.

"Such a shame. A real man pleasures his woman's every hole." Neither she nor Joel had time to argue as Jesse pressed and rubbed the tiny hole, and Hannah's back arched once more when the tip of his finger touched inside her.

***

It felt so wrong, yet so right, to watch this man take what she had never given him, and Joel rubbed himself through his jeans as he watched Jesse's dark middle finger disappearing so slowly into his wife's ass.

Hannah whimpered, hands sliding up her body to squeeze her own breasts when Jesse grabbed her knee with his free hand, pushing her hips up and her leg out; his nose nuzzling her clit made her gasp, and his tongue and lips kissed her pussy before dipping down to drool saliva on his finger, and her ass.

"Keep your legs high, sexy coño, or I'll be displeased," Jesse whispered. He drew his other hand down, his thumb strumming her tight little clit as he pulled his head back, watching her holes flex and muscles quiver.

Hannah moaned, and with her eyes shut, managed to say, "Joel, stroke your cock. Watch him take me. No cumming."

Joel stood and shed his jeans in a flash. Settling back down, he pulled his cock from his boxers while watching Jesse open his hand, a finger sliding inside Hannah's pussy as his finger wetly worked in and out of her ass.

Within minutes, Hannah was begging, panting, squirming beneath Jesse's hands, and he flipped her over. He pushed her thighs open wide with his knees, tightly gripping her hips.

"Hmm, I think I like this," Jesse chuckled, looking over at Joel, sitting with his cock in his fist. Grinning, he wrapped Hannah's blonde locks around his hand. "I've never had such a pretty little coño on my cock before, especially while her husband was made to watch."

He pumped his cock slowly, pressing it against Hannah's opening as she pleaded for him to fuck her, and he met Joel's eyes. He maintained eye contact, sinking his meat slowly into the blonde's pussy, chuckling when Joel began to pump himself harder.

Jesse slapped Hannah's ass hard, his hips pistoning against hers, sharp thrusts that had her gorgeous breasts bouncing, and he looked away from Joel as his fingers tightened against her skin. He fucked her, hard, alternating with hammering at her pussy and taking long, hot thrusts into her soaked cunt.

His dark hand slid down, gripping her knee, drawing it up onto the couch before sliding back down to rub his fingers against her clit. His cock slipped from her, and he used his other hand to press it against her tight pucker.

"It's time, little one. It's time to take this sexy little hole," he murmured, rubbing fast and hard at her clit as he slowly pressed forward. Her lust-filled moans only trebled his excitement, and Jesse had to fight the urge to forcefully thrust inside the tight opening.

Joel groaned, his fist working his cock faster as he watched his wife's ass slowly taking the bartender's darker cock. Hannah's eyes were closed, reflecting each pant and cry. Jesse's fingers slipped inside her pussy, massaging her while his driving shaft filled her hole.

"You've come for me, and soon I'm going to come for you," Jesse roughly intoned, and froze, groaning as he sank balls-deep into the hot clutch of her asshole. He gave her a few heartbeats to acclimate herself to his entire length, and began a series of rhythmic thrusts with his fingers and cock that soon had Hannah coming again, her pussy squirting to fill his hands and coat his balls.

Watching Hannah's pussy juice splattering the floor and another man's balls had Joel's own balls drawing tight against his body, and as Jesse announced that he was going to cum, they erupted, shooting hot arcs of cum into the air.

Joel watched, his cock leaking over his fingers, while Jesse pulled from Hannah's ass and pushed his rod deep into her cunt. Accompanying a handful of sharp, hard thrusts, he was growling like a feral wolf, and one fist was tangled in Hannah's blonde hair, pulling it roughly as he unleashed his load into her.

Hannah was moaning softly, and as soon as Jesse released her hair, her head dropped to the cushion. Her cheek rubbed against the material as she visibly shuddered, her pussy contracting over and over again until a line of creamy cum dribbled out of her.

"You were a bad boy for cumming," she panted softly, and opened hazy eyes to stare at Joel. Her lips were curled in a sexy smile, cheeks still flushed with pleasure, and the tangled mass of her hair lay against her back and neck, smaller tendrils damp from sweat against her cheeks and forehead.

"And bad boys must pay penance." Jesse's voice was low and rough following his anguished release, yet no less commanding. "Now get over here and clean up this mess I've made ."

Joel's jaw dropped, staring agape at them. Hannah returned his blank stare with a teasing smirk..




Rescued by the Bartender



"You can't be serious," he answered, deadpan. He and Hannah had discussed his desire to take her creampie, but he didn't think she would actually have him do it, and certainly not as part of their "first time" with another man. Grinning to himself, he thought, 'She never misses a thing. That woman is simply amazing.'

"As serious as a heart attack." Jesse said, with a sly smile. "This cum won't clean itself up."

Hannah nodded again, this time in smug agreement.

Joel returned her nod, and slowly came to his feet to make his way behind his wife. He dropped to his knees and she rolled over; her muscles clenched, pushing out more cum as his hands cupped her inner thighs.

"Mmm, that's a good lover," Hannah purred, her hands caressing her ribs as Joel took a deep breath and lowered his head between her thighs.

Jesse's cum hit his taste buds as his tongue swept out and over her clit. It was salty, but it wasn't as bad as he'd read in stories on the internet. He'd wanted to be prepared, to know what to expect, but the reality was beyond his fevered imaginings. His tongue slithered out again, slipping and sliding over the cum-coated nexus as Hannah moaned and lifted her feet up onto the couch.

Everything faded except for the sounds of his wife's arousal as Joel laved her clit, then dipped his tongue into the folds of her pussy, her lips spread with his thumbs. Hannah's whimpers were music to his ears, and he growled into her heat as her fingers dived into his hair.

He lost himself in pleasuring her, in taking his friend's cum from her body with his lips and tongue.

His cock was hardening again, and he enjoyed the ache as he lapped up the mingled juices from her cunt. Splaying her lips wide, he dipped his head and swept his tongue wetly over and into her asshole. His cock leapt as she cried out in surprise, and he licked her hole again and again, before taking long swipes from her rosebud to her clit, alternately tongue-fucking both holes.

A strong hand wrapped around his shaft, and he grunted in surprise as Jesse slowly stroked him. Joel couldn't help but moan as the other man pulled and stroked him while he continued to feast on Hannah's bounty.

It was wrong; it should have felt wrong, but if felt so good. He lapped at his wife's pussy, tasting the other man's cum, and feeling that man's hand around his cock, and found himself loving it.

Hannah's clit was visibly throbbing, and he settled his mouth over it, tongue flicking and circling it as he sucked, and he watched as she played with her own breasts. Her fingers tugged and twisted at her swollen nipples, white teeth biting her lip as she whimpered and squirmed from his ministrations.

Joel heard a strange sound, and jumped as he felt something wet and cool drip onto his ass. He started to pull away from Hannah, but her hands were suddenly in his hair again, holding him to her pussy as he realized what it was.

"You said you wanted to share in everything I experience." Hannah's voice was low and soothing, and a warm finger spread silky lotion around his asshole. He moved his hips in instinctual desire of the probing tip even as the fist around his cock tightened and stroked a little faster.

Joel had wondered if she'd remembered this from their fantasy roleplay, but when she'd invited the creampie he should have known that Hannah wouldn't have forgotten this, either.

He groaned, his cock pulsing in Jesse's grip.

Suddenly it was becoming difficult to focus on his wife's pussy; his entire focus was on the warm heat in his cock and balls as Jesse worked his tight hole, pressing the lotion inside him, preparing him.

Joel looked up at his wife, who was smiling the sexiest smile he'd ever seen, and moved to press his fingers into her holes as Jesse's finger slipped inside his ass.

His body was on fire, and his balls were already tight against his body as the thick digit withdrew, only to push more cool lotion into his anus. He fingered Hannah as Jesse fingered him, and groaned at the burning sensation when another finger slipped into his ass.

Joel almost lost it. He felt himself starting to boil over, but then Jesse stopped, and used his free hand to sweep the cups and magazines from the coffee table.

"Lay on it, pretty girl."

Hannah obeyed without question, laying over the sturdy, low table, her hips on the edge, and squeezed her breasts as she watched the two men shift around.

"I'm going to use you to fuck your wife," Jesse explained. He had Joel kneel between Hannah's spread thighs, and thrust inside her. He watched the couple for a minute, his fingers slowly moving inside of Joel's ass, before pulling them away and pressing him flush down against her.

Joel froze, and felt the warm, slippery tip of Jesse's cock against his ass. It settled there, opening him with gentle pressure, and he felt his body go flush and hot as the head began to push into his tight anus.

It felt so different than just a finger, and Joel groaned, kissing Hannah deeply, his tongue mating with hers, his cock deep inside her as the young bartender's cock invaded his ass for the first time.

He felt his hard nipples against Hannah's skin, felt her pussy enveloping him, her wetness on his balls as his ass stretched around another man's throbbing shaft.

In minutes, the three were all panting and sweating from exertion, but Jesse's cock finally slid the last little bit home, and Joel felt their balls touching as his ass burned.

It was confusing, and so erotic at the same time, but Joel flexed his cock, and heard both Hannah and Jesse groan in response. His body ached, yearned, and he moved a little, matching their groans when Jesse withdrew just a few inches.

The young man thrust, pushing back in, and he chuckled at Joel's welcoming moan. He focused on the oh-so-tight ass wrapped around his cock, and reached around the older man to pull Hannah's knees over his arms and mash Joel between them.

No music was playing; the only sounds that could be heard were the cries of passion as Jesse thrust his cock slowly into Joel, who similarly pushed inside Hannah. He slowly picked up the pace, lifting Hannah's feet to his shoulders, over Joel's arms, and growled as the blonde began to cry out and grab the coffee table, her breasts, her husband.

Jesse flattened his hands on Joel's back, pushing him down on top of his wife, and started hammering away at his ass. Their balls slapped together as he thrusted wildly, focusing on that tight heat surrounding his pulsing shaft.

"I want you bitches to come for me." His growl was rough and low as he fucked them, the thrusts from his cock keeping Joel inside Hannah's pussy. "You're both mine now, and I want you to come hard."

Each word was accompanied by a sharp thrust, and he heard Joel swearing, heard Hannah whimpering, and he moved faster, his concentration more on the fire building in his gut, in his balls, until Joel nearly screamed.

"I'm fucking cumming! God, yes! Oh, holy fuck, yes!" Joel's body shook as his cock pumped his cum against Hannah's cervix, her pussy clamping on him in her own orgasm. He'd never cum so much, and felt like his body was going to explode as rope after rope of cum boiled from his balls. His toes curled and he heard Jesse swear loudly, then thrust hard into his ass.

The warmth spread through him, and he shook, his softening cock still buried in Hannah as his anus was filled with the other man's cum.

It took several moments for them to gather themselves, and for Jesse to pull away from the couple. He stood shakily, and asked for directions to the bathroom. Gathering his clothes, he disappeared down the hallway.

Jesse washed himself quickly, before dressing and returning to the living room.

Joel and Hannah were lying naked on the floor, curled in each other's arms, blissfully asleep.

With a satisfied grin, Jesse dropped a card with his phone number and address on the coffee table and left the house. His wife was surely going to be mad, but only because she had missed out on all the fun!



Rescued... Mostly Pt. 01



All characters in this story are over 18.

This is a work of compete FICTION and FANTASY.

It is a fantasy world in which people's actions and reactions are not those of the real world and this story should not be taken seriously, or taken to reflect anything that should ever be done.

This work is just as divorced from reality as Lord of the Rings or Star Trek, it is Fantasy, and nothing more.

No one should ever take this as any reflection of reality.

***

2003

Cindy was, tall blonde and beautiful. 

She was the daughter of hippies, and she grew up on their stories of getting high and spitting on soldiers during Vietnam War protests. Her parents told her from birth that the United States was a force for evil and that soldiers were psychopaths who all signed up so they could kill children. Cindy adopted her parents point of view hook line and sinker. 

In 2003 Cindy was 22. She had dropped out of college years ago, convinced that they were trying to indoctrinate her into the "military industrial complex", and she was working at a coffee shop. When, it looked like war was imminent in Iraq, Cindy heard from her friend Andrea about some people who were going to volunteer to be human shields. They would fly to Iraq and stand in front of schools and hospitals so that the evil U.S. Military wouldn't destroy them the way she was sure they meant to. Andrea and Cindy volunteered and hoped on planes to Baghdad right before the invasion. 

When they got there, things weren't as they expected.

Instead of being greeted at the airport by like minded pacifists, they found themselves met by well armed groups of Iraqi Army men. Andrea and Cindy were separated and rushed off to different locations. Cindy was expecting to be taken to a school or a hospital. Instead the building they took her to looked more like a bunker, with missiles on top. It was an anti-aircraft emplacement.

Cindy was ushered into a room where she was told she would stay. The room had nothing but couch to sleep on and faucet. They took her bag, but she managed to keep her cell phone without the Iraqi's noticing. For the next 24 hours she was in the room alone.

After the long lonely day, finally her cell phone went off. Cindy answered it immediately and it was Andrea on the other line. Before Cindy could say anything Andrea's panicked voice said, "Cindy! Get out, get away if you can!" 

Cindy was dumbfounded, Andrea sounded so scared. "What are you talking about? What happened?"

"They're gonna hurt you." Andrea said, "The Iraqi's... they ... hurt me... they raped me, and now they say they're gonna..." Just then, Cindy heard yelling in Arabic. She heard Andrea scream, and the phone went dead.

Just then the door opened violently. The Officer who seemed to be the leader of the Iraqi's came in. He grinned at Cindy and said in his broken English, "Americans... the Americans have come... we don't need you anymore... we have fun with you... then you die." The Officer grinned wickedly as he walked towards her, unbuckling his belt as he came.

Suddenly there was the sound of gunfire and yelling from outside. The Officer swore and turned to leave, to find out what was going on. He didn't make it far. 

He had barely gotten to the door when a shadowy figure flitted in front of the Officer and there was a loud bang. The Officer dropped to the floor like he was a puppet with it's strings cut.

The figure in the door moved into the room and shot past her like lightning, she had never seen anyone move like that. The figure started to check the room and another dressed just like him came behind him. She could see now they wore desert uniforms, with a U.S. Flag on the right shoulder. 

The second figure moved up to her quickly and grabbed her. He pulled her hands behind her back, and secured them with zip ties. It was all happening so fast, Cindy couldn't make heads or tails of the situation.

The gunfire outside ceased as quickly as it began. After a few moments, two more American soldiers came into the room.

One of the men turned to the other three and said, "Are we clear here?"

The man who had zip tied Cindy responded, "Clear Captain." Captain, Cindy thought. Guess he's in charge.

"Well done Sargeant." The Captain said. The Captain then turned his attention to Cindy. "Is that her?" Said the Captain.

"Appears to be." Replied Sarge. Sarge took off his helmet. Cindy could see him now. He appeared to be in his early 40's. Clearly in good shape, but with a worn look of a man who'd seen it all. The other soldier who came in with the Captain also took off his helmet. He was a redhead, and looked to be very young. 21 or so, with a good natured face, but also in top condition.

The first man, the one who had killed the Iraqi Officer and cleared the room, took off his helmet. He was blonde and shockingly handsome, but with a wicked and mischievous smile to him. He said, "We heard reports that she might be here, but honestly Sarge, I didn't think anyone would actually be stupid enough to volunteer to be a human shield for the Iraqi's," as he looked her up and down in a way that made Cindy uncomfortable.

"All the hostiles are down. No one got a transmission out either. Doesn't look like anyone knows we're here. That means we have a few minutes before we have to evacuate the area." Said the Captain. He followed with, "I'll watch the perimeter..., let me know when you're done, and we can get out of here." and he walked out of the room.

Cindy started to wonder what me meant, when Sarge reached out and started unbuttoning her shirt.

"What the hell are you doing!" she yelled at him.

"Do you have any idea how many lives you risked by coming here, any idea what we had to do to get here?" Sarge said calmly, as he unbuttoned her last button, and gently brushed her shirt off her shoulders so it was hanging by her bound wrists. 

Oh my god! She thought to herself, is he going to rape me?

As if to confirm her suspicions, Sarge then reached up and wrapped his hand around her bra between her tits. With one violent move, he tore her bra away and threw it across the room, exposing her C cup breasts to the three men. Sarge then reached to her waist and untied the tie-died sarong skirt she was wearing. He let it drop to the floor and turned Cindy around. Sarge made her bend over the back of the couch. Cindy heard a clicking sound, and soon found out it was a pocket knife, when Sarge used it to cut away her panties, so she was now bent over, and naked.

Cindy was so shocked and dumbfounded by the situation that she couldn't summon the will to fight, she just lay there, bent over the couch, as she heard Sarge undoing his belt and unbuttoning his fly behind her.

Then she felt the tip of his cock, gently probing at her pussy. Sarge took his time, moving around and trying to loosen her up. Unfortunately his efforts were successful and against her will, Cindy felt her pussy start to loosen and moisten in preparation for the inevitable assault. Somehow Sarge must have detected that she was ready for him, as he started to push his way into her. 

"Oh my god!" Cindy said out loud. To herself she just kept repeating, He's raping me, I'm actually being raped!

Sarge kept gently pushing into her. Just when she kept thinking that must be all of him, there was more cock behind it. Sarge was by far the longest man she'd ever taken, though probably not the thickest. Sarge went as far into her as any man could, and Cindy's breath was taken away by the sudden presence of him in her pussy.

Sarge bent over to whisper in her ear, "Don't worry, I've been away from my wife for a while... this won't take long." 

Then he started to fuck her.

Slowly, Sarge started to pump his cock in and out of her pussy. He was being slow and gentle, but the length of him was still a shock to Cindy. It wasn't long, maybe 30 or 40 strokes before she heard Sarge start making little groaning sounds. She felt him quicken his pace, and then, without warning heard him groan loud as he thrust himself fully into her. He was all the way, deep inside her when she felt the warm, wet shock deep in her pussy. His semen flooding into her.

After a few more seconds and a few more sprays of cum inside her, Sarge bent forward and kissed her on the back, before pulling his cock out of her and stepping away.

Cindy didn't move. She just stayed bend over the couch. She didn't know what to do. What are you supposed to do after you've just been raped? Then she heard Sarge say to the other two men, "Who's next?" 

"Next!" Thought Cindy with a shock.

Just then the blonde man walked up to her. He grabbed her by the hair and jerked her to a standing position. It wasn't hurting her, but it was quick and violent and it made her stand on the balls of her feet. Blondie led her by her hair over to the other side of the couch and said, "Over here." He threw her down on the Couch on her back, and said, " I wanna see those tits while I fuck you."

Blondie took off his shirt and started to unbutton his pants. Despite the situation, Cindy couldn't help but appreciate Blondie's body. He was ripped. But then she saw his cock as he pulled it out, hard and ready. He was about average length, but was definitely not average girth. He was the thickest she'd ever seen. 

Without hesitation or fanfare, Blondie positioned himself between her legs, and shoved his cock into her pussy. Cindy gasped audibly as she was filled by him. She was well lubricated from Sarge's cum, and this meant that Blondie had no trouble forcing himself into her, despite his size.

Blondie started fucking her. He wasn't slow and gentle like Sarge, he immediately started giving it to her hard. Cindy was expecting pain, but after a few seconds started feeling something akin to pleasure. She looked away from Blondie's face, not wanting to look him in the eye while he raped her.

Blondie was constantly making exclamations. He kept saying "Fuck yeah," and "Oh you're so fucking good." His hands went everywhere. His hands ravished her thighs, her stomach, her shoulders, and he languished a lot of attention on her breasts. Her tits were bouncing like crazy while her hands were still bound behind her back, and Blondie kept pounding his cock in and out of her pussy.

Finally she saw him throw his head back and give an animalistic yell. He thrust into her hard, and she felt him spill his own batch of warm semen into her pussy. After he caught his breath, Blondie gave her tits one last squeeze, and pulled his cock out of her pussy. Blondie said, "You're up Red."

Cindy didn't have much time to adjust. Red was already naked, as he walked up to her on the couch. He grabbed her under the arms and lifted her so she was kneeling on the couch. For such a little guy, barely 5'7" Red seemed remarkably strong. He said, "Let's give that pussy a break shall we?" and she found her face inches from his hard cock. Red wasn't tiny, but he was smaller than average, certainly smaller than the other two. Red was pushing his cock towards her mouth, and Cindy shut her mouth tight to try to keep him out. Finally Red grabbed her head, gently but firmly and said, "C'mon girl. You know it's gonna' happen one way or another. Just let it go in."

Cindy opened her mouth and let him put his cock inside.

Red started fucking her face. He was rough about it at first, and Cindy could do nothing but kneel there and take it. She was hoping he would finish quick, but he seemed to go on forever. 

Finally she decided she'd better swallow her pride, and participate in the blow job, to try to get it over with. She started to move her head in rhythm with his thrusts, and sucking on him as she went back and forth over his cock. This must have been what he wanted, because he stopped fucking her mouth, and just let her blow him. Cindy continued sucking on him, in and out, with her hands bound behind her. She felt him getting harder in her mouth, and he started to buck into her involuntarily. He said, "Yes... that's it... Yes!" And he started to cum in her mouth. He mouth started to fill with warm semen, and she continued to suck until it stopped flowing onto her tongue. She tried to pull off him then, but he held her fast. He looked down at her and said, "You know what to do." And she did.

She swallowed his cum.

After that he pulled out and got dressed. Sarge and Blondie were already fixed up and ready to leave. Cindy stayed there, on the couch, as the three men walked out. Sarge and Blondie's cum was leaking out of her pussy and dripping onto the couch as the Captain came back into the room.

Oh god, she thought, he's gonna rape me now too.

Instead the Captain came up to her and cut off her zip ties with his pocket knife. He handed her her skirt back and told her she could button up her shirt.

The Captain stood by the door as she tidied herself up.

"Our mission was to take out this anti-aircraft facility. We heard that you might be here, but that's not why they sent us. Frankly, no one knew for sure if you were really here, or if you were anywhere at all." 

Cindy continued to dress herself, still not sure what was going on.

"We were going to head to another target, but if you want to be rescued, we'll get you back safely to Kuwait instead."

Cindy was dumbstruck for a moment, and stared at him shocked before finally saying, "Rescued? Rescued? Your men just fucking gang-raped me!"

The Captain said, "And what do you think those Iraqi's we killed were planning on doing to you. They weren't going to be as gentle about it, and there was a lot more of them. What do you think they were going to do to you when they were done?" 

The Captain put on his helmet and started towards the door. "What do you think they're going to do to you if they find you after we leave?" This thought gave Cindy pangs of terror, particularly after her brief call from Andrea.

Finally the Captain said, "We have a Humvee outside, we leave in 3 minutes. If you're there, we'll get you home safe, if not... your call." With that he left.

Cindy didn't have to think about it long. She got herself together, and walked out to the Humvee. She had no idea where the Iraqi's had put her bag. Her bra and panties were ruined, and she didn't have any others.

But then, she didn't figure she'd need them for this trip anyways.

... To be continued...



Rescued... Mostly Pt. 02



All characters in this story are over 18.

This is a work of compete FICTION and FANTASY.

It is a fantasy world in which people's actions and reactions are not those of the real world and this story should not be taken seriously, or taken to reflect anything that should ever be done.

This work is just as divorced from reality as Lord of the Rings or Star Trek, it is Fantasy, and nothing more.

No one should ever take this as any reflection of reality.

This is part II in a series.

***

It had been more than ten hours since they left the bunker. They were riding in a pickup-truck style Humvee, with two seats in front and back of the passenger compartment, and a turret machine gun that was operated by one of the men standing up in the middle. The vehicle had rushed out of town, and Cindy had managed to get some sleep while the men drove into the wilderness where they hoped to avoid notice. Red was driving, with the Captain riding shotgun. Sarge was on the big gun, and Blondie and Cindy were in the back.

After they'd been driving for a while without seeing anyone, the Captian tilted his head back to Blondie and simply said, "O.K. Go ahead."

Cindy looked over to Blondie who was now looking her in the eye, as he undid his fly and brought out his thick, and already hard cock. Cindy couldn't help but be a little shocked, but then again, she did expect that they were not done using her. Not by a long shot.

Blondie said, "C'mon girl, time to earn your keep. Suck it."

Cindy knew it was pointless to protest. She looked back at him and said, "You know this is still rape, right?" Blondie nodded, and said, "Yep, now suck."

Cindy did.

She leaned over, and took his cock into her mouth. She started moving her mouth up and down on it as Blondie petted her blonde hair approvingly of her efforts. Cindy thought, If I have to do this, I might as well try to get it over with quick. She moved her hand down, into his pants, and started playing with his balls as she continued to slurp away at his penis. As soon as her fingers made contact with his balls she felt Blondie's whole body tighten up. His cock got noticeably harder in her mouth, and she knew she was pleasing him. After a few minutes Blondie started groaning in pleasure, and she felt his balls tighten up against his shaft. Right away, his hips bucked up into her, and he started spurting his cum into her mouth. Cindy continued sucking at his cock as he filled her mouth with semen. Once the flow subsided, Cindy swallowed the load, and pulled herself off. 

Blondie was laying back and breathing hard, he seemed like he might pass out when the Captain told him to get on the gun. Blondie did up his fly and traded places with Sarge.

As soon as Sarge sat down, he too, opened his fly and took out his cock. Cindy started to lean down to suck it, but Sarge said, "No, I want that pussy again." Sarge gently pulled her over to him and sat her on his lap. He moved her skirt aside, and positioned her so she was facing forward, almost a seated reverse cowgirl. Cindy lowered herself onto his cock. Truth be told, she was a little turned on from making Blondie cum so hard, so Sarge had little trouble pushing his way into her pussy. Cindy started bouncing up and down on his cock, while Sarge gently thrust himself up into her. 

Cindy started vigorously fucking herself on his cock, again, hoping to get this latest rape over with as quickly as she could. As she fucked Sarge, she occasionally caught the Captain looking back at her. He was discreet, but clearly had lust in his eyes as he watched her being fucked yet again. Why hadn't he taken his turn with me like the others? she wondered to herself. Sarge brought her out of her contemplation when she heard him groan, and felt him fill her pussy with his semen. Once she knew he was done unloading in her, Cindy pulled herself off of him. Some of his own cum dripped out of her pussy and dropped onto his pants. A very small amount of revenge, she supposed, as she sat back down in her seat and looked out the window, without saying a word.

***

They continued driving through the middle of nowhere. Cindy had been drifting in and out of sleep for more than an hour when all hell broke loose.

She heard Blondie yell, "Contact left! Contact left!" and then the machine gun opened up with the loudest noise she had ever heard. The machine gun was quickly followed by a chorus of gunfire seeming to come from everywhere. There was a loud bang, which rocked the entire Humvee, and the vehicle came to a screeching halt. Blondie kept firing the machine gun like crazy and the Captain lept into action.

"Sargeant, stay with her. Keep her safe." He turned to Blondie, "Keep suppressing, Red you're with me." The Captain and Red shot off like lightning. Cindy couldn't tell where they were going. 

Sarge pushed her out the door to the right, and rushed out behind her. Sarge pushed her down nest to the wheel well by the engine, trying to get her as much cover as he could, while he shielded her with his body. The gunfire from the left kept coming, but then more gunfire erupted from the right. Sarge quickly moved in between her and incoming fire and started shooting back with his rifle. Cindy just curled up on the ground trying to make herself as small as possible. She couldn't tell where the men shooting at her were, and she couldn't tell what Sarge was shooting at, but she heard the bullets crack into the Humvee near her. 

There were two especially loud cracks, and Cindy felt Sarge fall back violently. Just as quick as he fell, he pushed himself back up to his knees, and kept shooting back, this time only using his right arm. His left arm hung limply at his side, and Cindy thought she saw blood on it.

Sarge kept shooting, and after a few more shots, the fire stopped. All of it. Then nothing but silence. Suddenly she could hear everything, Sarge breathing hard, her own heart pounding in her chest. She could even hear the Captain and Red calling to each other in the distance. They were verifying that the "targets" were down.

After a few minutes Captain and Red came running up to them, this time from the left. The Captain saw Sarge's bleeding arm, and immediately went to work bandaging him up and cleaning the wound.

"Doesn't look so bad," He said, "in and out, and didn't hit bone or artery." 

Sarge said, "Yeah, just trying to get another purple heart, I like the attention." Clearly this was meant as a joke, because the other three men started laughing. Blondie asked Red, "Did you get 'em all?"

"The Captain did," Red said, nodding towards the Captain who was still working on Sarge's arm. 

Without looking back the Captain said, "Bullshit Red, you got one, and I'd have been dead without your supporting fire. Now quite kissing ass, and go change out that blown tire."

Red smiled and went to work on the tire.

They were up and driving again in ten minutes.

***

That night they headed to an abandoned Iraqi Army building in the middle of nowhere. Miles before they got there the men blacked out the lights of the Humvee. When they got within half a mile, the Captain, Blondie and Red got out and silently snuck up on the blacked out building while Sarge stayed in the Humvee with Cindy. The men were all business. As they cleared the building to make sure no one was inside. 

A few minutes later the Captain signaled Sarge that the building was empty. Sarge pulled the car up and he and Cindy got out. Blondie walked up to Sarge and said, "We hit the jackpot here Sarge. No bad guys, isolated with no good approaches. We can set up a few claymores and no one will get anywhere near us. There's even a shower with running water." The Captain interrupted saying, "We're setting watch anyways. Everyone get yourselves cleaned up, I'll watch first."

The building was small. Four rooms with two showers. The men started setting up their mats and sleeping bags on the floor of the main entry room. Red and Blondie went outside, presumably to set up the claymores and booby traps. Sarge walked Cindy to what he said was "her room." 

Cindy couldn't believe it. There was a bed, and her own bathroom with a shower. They were giving her the bed while they slept on the floor. Of course, on second thought, Cindy suspected the bed might be used for more than just a good nights sleep.

Cindy went to the bathroom and cleaned up a little. When she walked back out, Sarge was still in the room. 

"How's your arm?" She asked, looking at his blood stained uniform.

"It'll be fine." He said, as if a bullet wound was no big deal. "Seriously, just a graze, it'll be fine." 

Sheepishly, she said, "You saved my life back there."

"I know." He said, again, as if it were no big deal.

She paused. "I suppose... I should thank you..."

Then Sarge smiled a little. "I have an idea about that."

Here we go, she thought, expecting him to strip her and throw her onto the mattress. Instead he said. "The other guys said you were pretty good with your mouth, how's about a blow job?"

Without a word, Cindy got on her knees in front of him. She reached up and unbuttoned his fly, and brought out his cock. She knew it was long, after all, she'd been raped by it twice now. Nonetheless, face to face with it, it was remarkable to see. She took the shaft in her hand and moved her mouth around the head. It became clear to her that she wasn't going to be able to take the whole thing into her mouth. All she could do was get a few inches behind the head. Instead she used both hands to start jerking his cock while she did her best to suck it.

Somewhere in the middle of the blow job, she heard Blondie and Red come back into the building, and heard them reporting to the Captain that everything was set. Nonetheless, Cindy kept focused on the task at hand, and kept sucking Sarge off. It seemed like he was getting close, so she started jerking her hand over his dick, faster and harder. She was basically jerking him off into her mouth, and it worked like a charm. Sarge gave a satisfied groan, and started to shoot his load into her mouth. Cindy kept jerking with her hand, and swallowed his cum as it spilled onto her tongue. Once he was done, she took her mouth off his dick. 

Sarge buttoned up his pants, and looked down at her and said, "Dang, the boys didn't lie. That was great." And with that, he buttoned up and walked out.

Candice just got up from her knees and took a few steps toward the bed, when she felt, rather than heard, someone else come into the room. When she turned around, she saw Blondie there, looking at her. He was topless and barefoot, wearing only his pants. He was looking at her with that aggressive lust she was getting used to seeing in his eyes, and she could see him hardening under his pants.

Just as she suspected, it seemed they were going to take turns with her again.

Cindy knew Blondie was gonna' get his rocks off on her, one way or another, but she wanted to avoid having her pussy raped, and she wasn't sure she was up to giving another blow job.

That's when Blondie told her, "Take your shirt off. I want to see those tits again." This gave Cindy an idea. She slowly unbuttoned her shirt and slipped it off her shoulders, revealing her beautiful, curvy tits that she remembered Blondie enjoying so much the first time he took her. 

Cindy laid down on the bed, met his gaze and said, "You can titty-fuck me... if you want." 

Blondie smiled, and walked out of the room. Cindy lay on the bed, not sure what this meant, but a few short moments later Blondie came back in. This time completely nude. Despite everything that had happened, Cindy couldn't help but marvel at what a beautiful body Blondie had. Every inch of him was tight lean muscle, and of course, just below his six pack, his thick cock was fully hard and ready. 

In his hand he had a very small jar of Vaseline. Blondie walked over to her and started spreading some of the lube across her breasts. At first he was just applying the lube, but after a second or two it turned into him feeling her up, and rubbing her tits up and down with his hands. It felt good, to Cindy, and she closed her eyes to enjoy it. Blondie took out more lube and started lubing up his thick cock. Then he mounted her.

Sitting across her stomach, he began rubbing his cock in between her breasts. Obligingly, Cindy pushed her oily tits together, closing them around his cock as he started to thrust a little faster.

For several minutes, this continued, Blondie pushing his cock easily through her slippery tits. Cindy looked down to see the head of his penis popping out the top, only to disappear again back between them. Blondie started to pick up speed, and Cindy thought he might be close, but she didn't prepare in time. Without much warning he gave a little yell, and started to cum across her breasts. Semen shot out of his penis, up across her face, and into her hair, before the rest of it unloaded into small pool forming between her breasts. Cindy didn't even have time to close her eyes, so she saw the whole ejaculation as it shot towards her.

When he was done, there was still a string of white cum dangling down from the end of his softening cock. Blondie stood up off of her, but he took his cock in his hand, and wiped the rest of his cum off on her left nipple. "Thanks," he said as he started to walk out, "you should take a shower." 

"Yeah," she answered, "I'm sure Red will appreciate that," acknowledging what she figured they both knew would happen to her next.

Cindy got up and walked to the shower. She turned it on and was surprised to find warm water. She got in the shower and started to wash Blondie's cum off her tits, her face, and out of her hair. She took a moment to enjoy the warm water, but she didn't get much more than a moment.

She heard someone get into the shower with her, but before she could turn around strong hands grabbed her around the waist and around her neck. She was pulled back, up against a hard body, and a hard cock. She caught enough of a glimpse to know that it was Red. 

Red didn't say anything, but she knew there was no way she was going to talk him out of raping her, so she stayed silent too. Red roughly grabbed her hands and pushed them, up against the shower wall to brace her. His hand moved down to her pussy and started feeling around, rubbing her clit. He wrapped his other hand up in her hair and pulled back, forcing her to look up, and thrust out her tits.

Then, quickly, roughly, and without pretext, he shoved his cock all the way into her pussy, and started fucking her for all he was worth.

Red was absolutely throwing himself into her. He continued pulling her hair back, and even with her hands bracing herself against the shower wall, the force of his fucking was pushing her forward with each thrust. Red was really worked up, she thought. Maybe he was trying to make up for the fact that he didn't get to take her in the car like Sarge and Blondie.

Either way, he was fucking her hard, and Cindy was grateful it was his small-ish cock that was ravishing her like this, and not Blondie or Sarge's.

Maybe it was the warm water of the shower, maybe it was his passion. Maybe the past few days had all just been too much, but Cindy started to feel something. The pounding of the cock behind her was starting to feel good. Quickly her pleasure was escalating. She struggled for all she was worth not to make moaning sounds, but she was shocked to find that the pleasure continued to build. She was glad Red had faced her away, she didn't want him to realize she was getting off on this rape.

Suddenly, Red pulled out. He roughly turned her around and pushed her up against the wall. Cindy could only look at him shocked, as he grabbed her right leg and lifted her up, so he could get under her and push his cock in again. She had no choice but to meet his frenzied gaze as he resumed his brutal fucking, face to face.

Red fucked her, harder and harder, and Cindy couldn't hold back anymore. She wrapped her arms around Red to keep from falling down, and she squeaked over and over, as her pussy came around his pounding cock. Cindy lost her bearings on what was going on. Red held her up, and continued to fuck her without missing a beat. She had some vague feeling of noticing his climax as he filled her with his cum. 

Then, just as abruptly as it started. Red dropped her to the shower floor and walked out. Cindy was left there, in the warm water, panting and coming down from her orgasm, as Red's semen leaked out of her pussy.

It took several more minutes before she could get up, turn off the shower, dry off and go to bed.

***

The next day they were driving again. 

They'd been driving through nowhere for a few hours when Blondie said, "Looks pretty safe to me, Sir."

"Fine... pull over. And make it quick." The Captain said.

The Humvee pulled over and the men pulled Cindy out while the Captain manned the gun.

Blondie and Sarge wasted no time. They bent Cindy over the back of the Humvee and lifted up her skirt. Sarge immediately got behind her, undid his pants and shoved his long cock into her pussy. Sarge fucked her hard and furious, pounding her pussy roughly until she felt him, once again, fill her with cum. Sarge had barely pulled out when Blondie got behind her and pushed himself into her pussy and started fucking hard. Cindy just stood there, bent over the car, and took it. Blondie pounded her equally furiously, but in no time she felt him spill his semen into her pussy as well. 

Cindy's pussy was sore from all the sex of the last few days, and after those two rough, back-to-back fuckings, she didn't want a third. As Blondie pulled out, she knew what she needed to do, and now was the time. Red was the only one left, and he had that nice small dick.

"Wait a minute." She said as Red walked towards her. She looked at Blondie, "get that lube again." Blondie brought it out of his rucksack and handed it to Red. Red, obligingly, lubed up his cock, and looked back at Cindy. Cindy looked him in the eye for a moment before turning away to bend over again. "O.K... Fuck me in the ass."

Sarge and Blondie made audible noises of surprise. Red, silently got behind her, and lined his lubed cock up against her asshole. Red was gentle in putting himself into her. He was slow and careful not to hurt her. She could hardly believe this was the same man who so mercilessly fucked her in the shower the night before. Cindy was expecting pain, but instead felt a surprising amount of pleasure. Somehow the pressure of that dick in her ass felt... amazing. Red picked up speed, just a little and started to give her a gentle, but firm fucking. Cindy started breathing hard as she felt more and more pleasure. "Fuck it" she thought as she reached a hand down to play with her clit, in the hopes of bringing herself to orgasm. 

After a minute or so, she heard Red start to breath hard. Finally she felt Red push all the way into her and heard him gasp. She could just barely feel the wet pulse inside as he came in her ass. This little sensation brought her over the edge and she moaned and collapsed in a pleasant little orgasm.

Red pulled out and started to clean himself up. Cindy tidied herself as best she could with cum dripping from her pussy and ass. Blondie handed her some wipes to clean off with and said, "Damn girl." Cindy looked back at him and said, "Don't get any ideas. You two are two big." To her surprise, Sarge and Blondie nodded in agreement, and promised they wouldn't try.

"Mount up, if you're done with her." Said the Captain.

***

This is the way it went for the next two days. They would drive around, staying out of sight and danger. Whenever they were moving the men would keep vigilant and professional. Every now and then when they were away from everything and were safe, they would pull over and the three men would take turns fucking her. Sometimes, one of them would make her suck their cock while they were driving. One way or another, by the end of the day her pussy and stomach were always full of their cum. 




Rescued... Mostly Pt. 02



...To be concluded...