9 comments/ 80369 views/ 48 favorites Conflict By: geronimo_appleby Foreword A short incest piece this time. Amy arrives the evening before her sister's wedding. She goes to bed in her brother's hotel room, exhausted after a long flight from Malaysia to Europe... I hope you enjoy the piece. It isn't too long at just over 5k words. Feedback is appreciated. Thank you for reading. GA - Da Nang, Vietnam - 16th of March 2015. *** Gareth finally caught her outside. "Amy, please ... We've got to talk about it." Amy turned when she heard his voice, her eyes wide with fright when she faced him. She gulped, throat working while shaking her head, blonde ringlets waving. "No," Gareth's sister said, a hand going up to halt his forward momentum. "We don't. I don't want to talk about it. It shouldn't have happened, Gareth." Amy swallowed heavily again, casting another furtive glance around the gardens in case anyone was close by. "As far as I'm concerned, it didn't happen," she hissed through a portcullis of pristine teeth. "Forget it, Gareth. It ... Never ... Happened." He grabbed for her arm when she ducked past him. "Amy, please!" But she was too quick, Amy was away, hurrying up the broad steps towards the hotel front door, her heels clicking against the marble floor as she went. "Shit," Gareth spat, frustrated, fingers clenching into fists. The previous evening: "Amy's here!" Gareth and Jennifer both looked up. Their mother stood at the side of the table, visibly enthused. Jennifer was the first to speak. "She made it?" Smiling at her mother, Jennifer rose to her feet. "Oh, Mum, it's going to be perfect." It was early evening. They were in the bar of the hotel - a grand old pile in the Yorkshire Dales, a manor house turned into a country hotel-cum-wedding-venue, with Jennifer's nuptials their reason for being there. For Melody Cartwright it had been a logistical headache stretching back months, but it seemed the hard work was about to pay off: it was the eve of the big day, the wedding was now in the lap of the gods and the planner - Melody trusted in both. "The three of you together again." Melody sighed, beaming. "My wonderful children." "Oh, Mum," Gareth winced, embarrassed. Then a woman appeared at the doorway, expression expectant as she surveyed the room, cheeks dimpling when she saw them, her smile delighted. "Amy!" Jennifer trilled. She reached out to embrace her younger sister. "Oh God, you got here. I'm so glad." The sisters embraced, both chattering excitedly. "Hello, Gaz," Amy said to her brother, thirty seconds later. "Good to see you." In a more restrained fashion, Gareth stood up and hugged his sister, his height dwarfing the diminutive blonde. "How was the flight?" Gareth asked when the three siblings were seated around the table, Melody rushing away to the bar. Amy shrugged. "Yeah, not bad. Landed at Heathrow on time, made the connection to Manchester okay." She rolled her eyes and grimaced, adding, "The M62 was a bit of dog." Gareth nodded slowly. "Friday evening," he said. "Bad timing." "But you're here now," Jennifer cut in. "I'm so pleased you could make it." "For my sister's wedding?" Amy replied, shrugging. "Are they okay with the time off?" Jennifer asked, concerned. "I'll be honest, they took a little working on, but it's all fine, Jen. I'll have four days here and then it's back to Kuala Lumpur." The conversation went back-and-forth as the four caught up on minor family occurrences since their last Skype call: an update on Amy's teaching job; recent developments in Gareth's IT business; the health or ailments of aunts, cousins, uncles and various other members of the extended family; who was coming to the wedding and who wasn't. Finally, after a full hour of it, Amy yawned. "God, I'm knackered," she sighed, blinking. "At least you made it to 9 p.m.," Jennifer said. "Worst thing you can do is go to sleep too early." Amy nodded, stifling another huge yawn with the back of a hand. "Oh God, I'm sorry," she said, grimacing. "I think I'd better call it a night. Hopefully I'll be brighter tomorrow." "Come on then," Melody said, rising quickly. "Let's get you back to the house." Gareth saw his sister pull a face and realised Amy wasn't exactly thrilled with the prospect of another half-an-hour minutes in a car. "It's twin beds in my room," he said. "If you're cream-crackered, Amy ... Well, it makes no odds to me, but you can always crash out here. Saves you having to try to keep your eyes open-" Amy considered the suggestion and turned to her mother. "What do you think, Mum? I must admit," she went on, "the idea of going upstairs and tumbling into bed... "Sorry, Mum," Amy continued. "I'll come home if you want, but-" Melody blinked in the face of the unexpected offer. "We-ell," she said, slowly. "I suppose ... But it's up to you, darling-" "Is it really all right?" Amy asked her brother. "You don't mind?" Gareth shrugged. "What's to mind ... As long as you don't snore." *** Gareth woke up when the bed dipped. He blinked into the dark, confused by the unfamiliar feel of his surroundings for a moment or two. He wasn't at home - so where was he? Then it came back to him: Jennifer's wedding; the hotel... An indistinct shadow moved next to him, a vaguely human form sitting on the edge of his bed. There was movement, a weight resting against him before Gareth felt a hand on his cock. Stunned, he gaped into the darkness, his body responding to the touch despite his surprise. "Amy?" Gareth gurgled. But it couldn't be. Amy was his sister - what would she be doing fondling his dick in the middle of the night. "Who is it?" Gareth croaked, refusing to believe. "God, it's so stiff," she murmured. "Jesus-" Gareth had to face it. It had been his sister's voice. He wriggled and gasped, instinctively recoiling from Amy's touch. "What? No. Stop it-" "Let me touch it," Amy whimpered, her hand finding Gareth's tumescence. The bed moved again, the covers going back. "Oh, shit," Gareth heard his sister groan as her weight settled over him. "Fuck me." It had all happened too fast for him to respond. Gareth realised too late that his sister had straddled his thighs and held him upright. She was over him in a moment, her spongy softness enveloping him, her body taking his length. It was wrong, but so undeniably glorious - Amy's molten embrace squeezed his cock. She might be his sister, but she was a beautiful woman: lithe and supple; tiny tits; taut round buttocks and legs like a dancer's. Amy rode her brother's cock, his hands around her waist, her hair brushing his face and chest while her pelvis worked back-and-forth. "Amy? Jesus ... What...? "...Oh my God! Amy ... We're ... We're-" "Shush," Amy replied, a low moan coming out of her. "Don't talk. Just fuck. I'm so fucking horny, Gaz. I'm sorry, but I'm just so fucking horny for it." Gareth surrendered to it. He pushed the fact she was his sister from his mind. It was sublime, a supremely healthy and extremely attractive young woman bouncing on his cock. His hands went up to her breasts, Amy's nipples like pebbles against his palms. "Touch me," his sister mumbled. "God, Gareth, touch me all over." "Fuck, Amy," he hissed, teeth clenched. "Get off; let me do it to you." "Yes!" Amy squeaked, rising off him. "Quick, give me room. Shove over so I can lie down." Gareth rolled off the bed. He leaned in and fumbled for the switch on the lamp next to the bed. "God, you're beautiful," Gareth breathed when the light flicked on. His sister laid there, blonde hair all over the pillow. She was naked, depilated mons a distinct mound, labia dangling, lean thighs wide. Gareth could see the xylophone of his sister's ribs as she stared at him all wide-eyed expectation as she sucked in air, chest heaving. "So lovely," he added, kneeling between Amy's legs. "Look at you," Amy gulped, eyes fixed on her brother's erection. "I never knew you were so well put together." Gareth held himself over his sister on one straight arm. He took hold of his cock with his free hand, guiding the big domed end to his sister's opening. Amy shunted forward, eager for her brother's length. "Be rough," she squeaked, hips moving when Gareth slid inside. "I want it hard, babe. I'm in the mood." Gareth poured love into his sister while Amy looked back at him over her shoulder. They'd loved one another for over twenty minutes, neither one thinking about their familial connection. It was all about the moment, all about the physical - the tastes and textures and slick flesh. Amy was on hands and knees, pelvis angled, buttocks thrust high, her cunt presented to her brother's long, thick cock. The young woman thrust back, keen to meet the instroke, the cheeks of her backside barely rippling despite the robust slapping of skin on skin. Gareth grunted a warning, curling in low over his sister's back, an arm encircling her waist. "I'm coming," he moaned, the big muscle at the base of his erection pumping semen into his sister's body. "Fuck, Amy, I'm-" "I know," she moaned in reply, head turning, her brother's cheek alongside hers. "Kiss me," Amy murmured, fingers clawing at the bed. "Kiss me, babe." It went on for some time. Even when the flood of ejaculate had ceased, the siblings tongues' slid and swirled, both of them gasping and groaning. Finally, Gareth slid out, jizm slipping from his sister's opening as she slumped onto her front, face-down against the bed. "I'm exhausted," Amy mumbled, eyes closing. Gareth couldn't believe it. How could she sleep after what they'd just done? The enormity hit him like a train. "Shit," he spat, stomach flipping, anxiety gripping his guts. "Amy ... Oh fuck, no." Gareth sat up, feet on the carpet, face in his hands while his elbows rested on his knees. "No-no-no," he keened, regarding the sleeping woman, aghast at what he'd allowed to happen. *** Gareth woke up fuzzy and disorientated, his brain replaced by cotton-wool stuffing. At first he clung to the tenuous notion it had been a dream, the hope a tiny surge inside him. Gareth looked at the other bed, finding it empty, the cover flung back, his sister nothing more than a memory, a dent in the pillow. It hadn't happened, it couldn't have. His own sister? Gareth groaned at the thought, stomach sliding greasily. He sat up, looking for Amy's bag, his mind filled with questions about her whereabouts: the dining room? Breakfast? No, her bag was gone. Fear swelled, his internal organs rising in his throat: could she have gone to the house? "It didn't happen," Gareth muttered to himself, desperate for it to be true. Then he realised he had begun the night in the other bed and recalled stumbling across the gap after Amy had fallen asleep. "Oh no ... Oh shit, oh fucking hell," he groaned. What time was it? Gareth reached for his phone, checking the screen: 8:17 a.m. He sat on the bed, numb with it all, immobile while staring down at the phone in his hand. A minute passed - then another. Finally he scrolled through the contacts. Finding his mother's number, Gareth sucked in a deep breath, heart jumping like a frightened canary in a cage. "Mum?" he croaked when someone picked up at the other end. Gareth cleared his throat of the dry feathers lodged there, forcing himself to sound more upbeat. "Is Amy there?" he asked, aiming for nonchalant. "I ... uh ... I just woke up and she's gone ... Her bag, too." "She just arrived," Melody informed her son. "I thought you might have driven her over, Gareth," she admonished. "Fancy letting her take a taxi-" "She left without waking me up," Gareth replied. "Is she all right?" "Why shouldn't she be?" Melody asked, continuing without waiting for a reply. "Anyway, she's here, your sister is fine. Look, Gareth, I don't mean to be rude, but we've got a thousand and one things to do here ... Do you want to speak to Amy?" "Yes," Gareth responded quickly. There was a pause, then his mother said, "She's busy, Gareth. She's helping Jennifer with all the tiny details left to be done. She said she'll see you later." And that was it. His mother hung up a moment later. Gareth's mind whirled, thoughts tumbling: would Amy say anything to her mother? No, Gareth didn't think so, but what about their sister? What about Jennifer? "Shit," Gareth spluttered, stomach lurching. "Why?" he asked himself. "What were you thinking?" Gareth went over the details as far as he could recall them. The sex was still very clear in his mind: his sister's skin; her moans; her face twisted into a rictus of pure pleasure; her body squelching around his girth; her tongue when they kissed and he poured jizm into her. "But you started it, Amy," he murmured. It came back to him, the vague impression upon waking; the hand around his cock. "What were you thinking?" Gareth gasped. He tried to reassure himself Amy wouldn't say anything to Jennifer - not on their sister's wedding day. She wouldn't, would she? Surely not. He hoped Amy would keep quiet, Gareth was certain she would keep such a shocking, appalling secret to herself. But the niggling doubt ate at him - an acid burn slowly corroding his insides. Gareth knew he would feel it all day. He thought about driving to the house, but pushed the idea aside almost immediately. It would be mayhem over there, his presence would only add to the chaos. Besides, Gareth reasoned, he had to speak to Amy alone, away from anyone. Unable to face breakfast, his consumption limited to two cups of crap coffee in his room followed by a nicotine dose on the fire escape outside, Gareth then lay on the bed, willing the time to pass so he could confront his sister. *** 2 p.m. - at last. Gareth waited at the door of the church. He watched his sister pass through the lych-gate, a jolt of some indefinable emotion leaping in his chest. She wore her blonde hair loose, her light tan complementing the yellow dress which hugged her slim form. A sudden memory came to Gareth: Amy on her hands and knees, rump presented to him while she smiled back at him over her shoulder. He recalled again the feel of her body along his front when he'd curled over her back, his cock inside her, her tongue in his mouth when she craned round to kiss him and his cum squirted. Despite the mortification and horror at the acts of indecency they'd committed, Gareth couldn't stop his penis from responding. "Oh fuck, Amy-" he mumbled under his breath. Amy approached, her eyes tortured when she noticed her brother standing there. She halted, face tense, her mother stopping alongside her. "What's wrong?" Gareth heard Melody ask. "You look like you've seen a ghost." Forcing himself away, Gareth left, stepping back and turning one-eighty, an usher asking, "Bride or groom?" "I'm the bride's brother," Gareth snapped. Frustrated, anxious and desperate to talk to Amy he took it out on the unfortunate man, instantly regretting his harsh tone. An apology later and he was directed to the left side of the church, muscles tense while he waited for Amy to sit down. His sister did so a few minutes later, their mother interposed between them much to Gareth's teeth-clenching irritation. The service began. Gareth stood when he was meant to, mouthed the words to hymns and pretended to be absorbed when all he wanted to do was grab Amy and drag her from the church. If he didn't talk to his sister soon, if he didn't find out how she felt before much more time passed he was going to explode. The ceremony ended - eventually, but Gareth's efforts to get near Amy in private were thwarted at every turn. Amy chose to ride to the manor house from the church in a different car. In the bar there were always people around, with Amy point-blank refusing to meet him outside when he feverishly whispered the request. The afternoon wore into early evening. The wedding breakfast was over, the atmosphere convivial. Watching Amy constantly, he saw her leave the bar. Gareth followed and saw his sister moving along the wide corridor towards the front of the hotel. Amy turned when she heard his voice, her eyes wide with fright when she faced him. She gulped, throat working while shaking her head, blonde ringlets waving. "No," Gareth's sister said, a hand going up to halt his forward momentum. "We don't. I don't want to talk about it. It shouldn't have happened, Gareth." Amy swallowed heavily again, casting another furtive glance around the gardens in case anyone was close by. "As far as I'm concerned, it didn't happen," she hissed through a portcullis of pristine teeth. "Forget it, Gareth. It ... Never ... Happened." He grabbed for her arm when she ducked past him. "Amy, please!" But she was too quick, Amy was away, hurrying up the broad steps towards the hotel front door, her heels clicking against the marble floor as she went. "Shit," Gareth spat, frustrated, fingers clenching into fists. Two hours later he felt the three-beer buzz. Gareth watched Amy dancing, jealousy rising in his throat. Before he realised it he was on the dancefloor, his face two inches from the shocked countenance of a man in his thirties. "That's my sister you're pawing, mate," Gareth growled, a stiff finger poking the man in the chest. "Gareth, please," Amy said, her voice just audible above the thump-thump-thump of the bass beat. She grabbed her brother's arm, looking around to see if anyone had noticed the altercation. "Sorry," she said to the man, tugging at Gareth, forcing him to look at her. "Stop it," she mouthed. "It's Jenny's wedding." Muscles worked in Gareth's jaw. He glared at his sister for several long moments. Leaning in close, Gareth told her, "I need to talk to you, Amy. We have to. I have to know what's in your head." "Get me a drink - gin and tonic. I'll meet you at the front of the hotel. I'll be in the gardens." Amy melted into the crowd, leaving her brother standing there. *** The gardens were all slanted shadows, the colourful scene monochrome in the back glow of the lamps aimed at the hotel's broad façade. Deep obscurities lurked behind the sculpted hedgerows, the July night benign. Amy was in a small alcove set off from the main path. "Here," she called, just loud enough for Gareth to hear. He found his sister sitting on one of the stone benches near the fountain, hair silver in the artificial half-light. "Gin and tonic," Gareth said, handing Amy a sweat-beaded glass. His sister thanked him, sipping delicately while Gareth stood next to the bench, awkward and unsure in her presence after a day of inner turmoil. "Sit down," said Amy, curt and snappy. "Hovering there ... You make me nervous." A brittle laugh came out of her before she added, "And I feel bad enough as it is." Amy turned her anguished face to her brother. "Bloody hell, Gaz," she sighed. "Amy ... I-" he began, lifting an arm, the limb falling limp when Gareth realised he didn't have a clue what to say. He slumped next to his sister and took a deep draught from the pint of beer he'd brought with him. "Shit," Gareth hissed. Amy sipped and unconsciously tapped her foot in time with the deep oomf-oomf coming from inside the hotel. "Isn't it," she concurred, lips a thin, bloodless line. She shook her head, sighing before taking another sip. There was a short silence between the pair before they both spoke at once. "Amy, I"- "Oh God, Gareth-" Gareth reached into the inside pocket of his suit jacket. He pulled out cigarettes and put one in his mouth. "No thanks," Amy said when her offered the packet to her. Conflict He lit up and sucked smoke deep. "What are we going to do?" Gareth asked. "Do?" Amy responded, incredulous. "Nothing. Not a thing, Gaz. What the bloody hell can we do. We've already fucking done it." Her brother shifted his rump against the bench. "I ... I thought you might tell Jen," he said. Amy rounded on him. "Tell Jen!" she squeaked, agog. "Are you tapped? Why would I tell our sister, Gareth? Especially today. It's her wedding day-" Amy boggled at her brother. "Can you imagine how crap it would be if I'd said something to her?" She uttered an ironic chuckle. "That's one conversation I'd hate to be part of. Fucking hell, Gaz," Amy sighed, staring at him. "Don't be an idiot. I'm never going to say anything to anyone." "Me neither, Amy." Gareth waved a hand, the cigarette's red tip glowing. "But ... But what happened?" he stammered. Amy grimaced. "You were there, you know what happened." Wincing, Gareth clarified. "I mean," he began slowly. "How did it start? I ... I was asleep, Amy. I woke up and ... Well, you were sitting on my bed. You ... You-" Amy leaned forward, elbows on her knees. She looked at the tiny pebbles between her feet, idly scuffing the gravel with the sole of one shoe while Gareth waited expectantly, his eyes on his sister. Seconds passed with subdued celebrations in the background a reminder of what the day was meant to represent, the pair of them suffering with their own inner demons. "Gareth," Amy began, faltering before gathering herself. She swivelled at the waist to regard him directly. "I ... I was confused" - Amy shrugged - "Jet-lagged, and the wine didn't help. It's vague, but I thought you were Adrian-" "Adrian!?" Gareth gasped, interrupting his sister. "But you haven't been going out with him for months. What-?" "I know that," cut in Amy. "I'm trying to explain, Gaz ... I don't bloody well know why I did it myself; I'm just trying to tell you what it was like for me. I was a bit out of it, not really awake, I suppose." Amy barked a laugh, snorting before she went on with, "If I'd had my wits about me, do you think it would have happened?" She eyed her brother, eyebrows up in her forehead. "I don't think I'd have ... Have- "I wouldn't have touched my own brother's cock," Amy breathed. "Oh Jesus," she gasped. "What have we done, Gaz?" Gareth smoked and shrugged. "It shouldn't have happened," Amy continued. "I feel so awful, Gaz." "We have to keep it between us," Gareth mumbled, his eyes sliding away from Amy's face. "Of course we do," Amy nodded. "We can't ever say anything about it." Looking at his sister again, Gareth said, "Will you be okay, Amy?" Amy nodded. "I think so. I'll go back to KL and just get on with it. I'll keep busy and try to put it behind me." Instinctively, Gareth leaned in and put an arm around her shoulder. He felt Amy stiffen before she relented and melted against him. It was a mistake, an error of Olympic proportions. Gareth's body responded to her proximity. His cock stiffened, while his heart accelerated like a jet fighter off an aircraft carrier. The need to comfort his sister became confused with carnal urges surging through him. He could feel her body against his, the memory of her nudity rushing in. Gareth heard his sister's moans once again; he could smell the scent of her, could see her as she had been the previous night. Emotions flared hot and urgent, the tipping point coming when Amy reached for the cigarette. Gareth saw his sister's lips pursed around the filter, the gesture oddly intimate - one which triggered an image of her with his cock in her mouth to flash into his mind's eye. The next thing Gareth became aware of was his sister's tongue in his mouth. His hands were all over her while Amy moaned, her dress around her hips while she straddled him, Gareth's cheeks sandwiched between her palms, Amy's kiss conveying her own desire. "Wuh-we can't," Gareth stammered, his hands full of his sister's taut buttocks, her gin spilled across the gravel, his beer glass on the bench next to them, cigarette discarded. "I know," Amy breathed, her eyes holding Gareth's, their interlocked gazes intense. Then she kissed her brother again. *** She slipped out of the dress, letting it pool around her feet before stepping out and toeing the garment across the room. Gareth stared at her. He sat on the bed, mouth open, enthralled by his sister's beauty. "I'm so horny, babe," Amy whined, a hand inside her scanty underwear. "See?" she cooed, holding up fingers glistening with desire. "Taste me." His sister's essence was in his mouth when Amy pushed two fingers past Gareth's lips. He growled, lust surging, his hands going to her waist so he could pull her down onto him. The siblings kissed, Amy on her brother's lap. "What are we doing?" Gareth groaned. "Don't talk about it," Amy replied, shaking her head. "Don't think about it, Gaz. Just get out of that suit. I want to look at you." His sister stood up, looking down at Gareth, fists on her hips. "Quick," she demanded. "Don't fuck about. I'm too wound up to wait." Gareth watched his sister peel down her underwear as he yanked at his tie, Amy lay on the bed, legs wide, flaunting herself at her brother. She splayed the meaty folds with the tips of her fingers, teasing Gareth with her glistening core, wincing when she flicked a forefinger over her clit. With his suit in a crumpled heap, Gareth clambered onto the bed. Amy giggled, spreading her thighs wider before she sighed for him to lick her. "Suck my clit, Gaz," Amy breathed. "Lick me before we fuck." It was madness, pure insanity, a sin. Gareth's mind raced with the corruption. He knew he shouldn't be there, he realised he shouldn't be doing it to his sister, licking her sex was just so wrong... ...But the scent of her, Amy's moans and the slick flesh against his tongue inflamed Gareth so much he couldn't resist. He just couldn't summon the will. Even if his life depended upon it, Gareth wouldn't have been able to stop himself from lapping his sister's essence. He licked and sucked and fingered Amy's sex, goading her towards a squirming, gasping climax. Gareth went at her, the lean muscles in his sister's thighs against his hands while he held her wide open and vulnerable. Gareth's palms slid over the rack of Amy's ribs, hands cupped over her tiny tits as he mauled her flesh and Amy writhed and wriggled. She held her brother's head close to her body while grinding her pubis against his face, her clit sliding over Gareth's nose. "Ooh, lick me," Amy mewled. "Suck my clit, lick my pussy. Use two fingers in there, babe." She levered up onto her elbows, chin tucked onto her chest while Amy stared down over her body to watch her brother working at her. "Oh God, we're damned," Amy groaned, the words clotted with desire. "It's so wrong, but I don't want you to stop. Gareth, babe, I'm going to-" Amy's head lolled back. She grunted her pleasure at the ceiling, eyes closed, mouth open while her hips jerked back-and-forth. "It's close, Gaz," Amy squealed, nose wrinkled as she stared at him, awed by the sensations, eyes heavy-lidded, her orgasm coming at her in a hard rush. "Keep fingering my cunt," Amy snarled, fingers clawing at the bed. "Keep on doing it. Just there. Rub me. Gaz, oh babe, I'm ... I'm ... It's so fucking close-" *** Gareth was on the ladder-backed chair, the wooden seat hard beneath his buttocks. His sister straddled him, her arms around his neck while she kept her feet planted against the carpet, thighs flexing as she rode up and down, soft moans and gasps coming out of her. Buttery gloop clung to Gareth's shaft, creamy evidence of his sister's arousal as he cupped her buttocks and squeezed. "Oh fuck, Amy ... You're so lovely. What a body ... I can't believe we're fucking." "Shut up," Amy groaned in reply, head ducking in to silence her brother by forcing her tongue into his mouth. They kissed, with Amy settling down, Gareth's full length inside her, her hips never quite still. "Don't talk about us. Forget who we are. Just for now, Gaz. There's going to be time enough for questions tomorrow. I don't want to think about it." "Wuh-will we ever do it again?" Gareth gasped, forcing himself up, fucking into his sister. "No ... I don't know," Amy mumbled. "We shouldn't, but-" She gasped and closed her eyes, arms tightening around Gareth as she pulled his head to her chest. "We can't," Amy breathed. She paused and then lifted herself off Gareth's length. Dancing towards the bed, Amy looked back at him. "Now, stop going on about it. Get over here and fuck me. Give it to me hard and fast. Make me scream." She lay on her back and spread her legs, slapping her vulva with the palm of one hand, the liquid smacking sound reached Gareth, goading him into standing. "Smash me," Amy squeaked as he advanced. Gareth jacked his length when he approached, his attention focussed on his sister's face. "You asked for it," he growled, eyes ablaze. "I did," Amy replied, grinning. *** Melody Cartwright left the reception. It had been a long day - enjoyable and full of precious moments, but exhausting nevertheless. "I'm going home," she said to Jennifer before escaping the throng. "It's been wonderful, darling." Jennifer hugged her mother, kissing Melody's cheek, eyes glistening with happiness. "Thank you for everything, Mum. See you tomorrow before we go to the airport. We'll call in at home." Another embrace and the two women parted. Melody smiled at her new son, waggling her fingers while mouthing, "Goodnight, Simon." The groom smiled and waved and then raised a glass in silent toast. Melody looked around the room, peering in through the confusion of flashing disco lights in search of Amy. Frowning, she moved through the wide doorway, glancing left and right along the long corridor. "Is the car waiting for me?" Melody asked the attentive young woman at the reception desk in the foyer. "Could you tell the driver I'll be a minute or two? I just have to find my other daughter. It's early and she'll probably want to stay, but I need to make sure." "Absolutely, Mrs Cartwright," the girl replied, already on her way from behind the desk. It took Melody a few minutes of searching before she thought about Gareth. Then she realised she hadn't seen her son for some time, either. She climbed the stairs and found his room. "Gareth?" Melody called out as she opened the door following a cursory knock. "Have you seen Amy?" she asked, stepping inside. "I'm going home and-" Conflict of Desire The drumming of his fingers across the stone plate of the bar matched the seconds slowly ticking themselves off the clock. It had been one of the slowest days imaginable, not that that wasn't to be expected. The business always slowed down to a shear halt when the summer brought all the warm sunlight, and with it drawing the people of this small Iowa town out in to its warm glory for a wide variety of activities. That, of course, did not include sitting in a burger joint allowing the cool recipes of summertime bliss he could concoct to quench their ever ripening thirst. With no people came plenty of time for thinking, and currently that was the last thing he should be doing. The reason for that is for the last year all that had consumed his mind was her. The love of his life that had walked away one July night had been on his mind at least once an hour for the last year. It was her that consumed his dreams; it was her that still had his heart. Oh sure there had been other girls to date over the last year, but none could measure up. She was everything to him, and that emptiness now sat in the bottom of his soul like the cavern of the dead once spoke of by the outlaws of the Badlands. Those thoughts had rained their destructive force down on him. He had allowed them to consume him yet again, and yet once more had yielded to the siren call of his addiction. He turned his arms over looking at the now permanent reminder of what the effects of a night of drinking the best that Uncle Putin can offer, and the silent dance of the cold bite of steel against flesh. The scars, while small, were very evident and counted at least twenty more to the already staggering total. The irony in all of this is how quickly ones' mind can drift from the sadness of the present to the hope of the future. He had played this moment out a hundred times in his mind, and in every instance it ended the same way. He felt the tide beginning to rise in him once again as he began to conjure up the images that would elicit behaviors in his body that would be evident by the normal on looker. Yet, he didn't care. In this moment of boredom, and wishing, he succumbed to the power of his mind as he dreamed up the impossible scenario. He would be standing at the bar, just getting ready to walk out from behind its shallow cavern, to attend to some tables errand when he would be hit by a warm dash of air caused to stir due to the opening of the heavy glass front door. He would only half way look in that direction, a force of occupational habit, but something would trigger a double take. A form would walk into the establishment, and greet the host with a polite yet urgent smile. As she would be talking with the young host her eyes would begin to seek out their intended target until they would meet his. In that very instant her walls would come crashing down, knowing she had completed her mission in the searching of him. Relief and excitement would wash over her as she would move deliberately towards him only longing to touch him again. Her sole purpose in that moment would be to feel his beard against her cheek; his arms wrapped lovingly around her, and,with hope, his lips upon hers. The world would appear differently from his end. He would see her, and in a split second two things would happen. One- his heart would melt as he wondered if he were dreaming the fact that she was indeed in front of him. Could it be so? Could this be happening? His heart would question every second of this moment until he would touch her and realize that this was no dream. The second part of his heart in this moment would not allow this to take place. For as quickly as the heart would melt, the ice from the brain would freeze all emotions shut. Immediately the remembrance of that year long suffering would shoot to the forefront and shut down everything else. He would grow cold, and know not what to do. Her touch would cause a conundrum. He would long to be touched by her, but would he be willing to instantly forgive all the pain and abandonment the last year had offered. The feeling of being totally alone wouldn't go so easily. He would see her ocean blue eyes, and remember swimming in them. The look of them when he first confessed his love for her was still one of his favorite memories. The look in them when she had ripped his heart out was one of his worst. Words would not find themselves easily on her tongue. She had plenty of time during her drive to write, and re-write speech after speech practicing them on the radio and any other ghosts that might have been traveling with her. Suddenly all of those words were gone. The moment had presented itself to her, and the enormity of it was dwarfing her courage. She knew before she could even take one step towards him that this was going to be a fight. Not so much of a fight between them in anger or public display, but of wills and of heart. She knew she had crushed him, but what he didn't know was that she had thought of him as much as he had of her. The fight was going to be to re-convince him of this fact. To prove to him that she did in fact love him and that very fire was still lit in her soul. And she had a weapon suited for just this task. Their connection had been so strong that they had practically been in each other's minds. She knew how he turned everything around so that he would wear the blame, even if it was not his to wear. He knew she was as scarred on the inside as he was on the outside. Many bad experiences had led to her keeping her distance and not willing him to get close to her. "Hi" she would begin nervously. As the word hung there in the open space between them the doubt already grew in her mind. Had this been a mistake? Only time would tell. "Hey" he replies. No emotion in his one syllable. Just three letters nothing more. "I'm not really sure what to say here" she confesses." How have you been?" Her eyes flickered as the regret of that question instantly filled her mind. He could have made things really hard on her there, but he knew this couldn't be easy for her, so why make it worse? He did after all still love her. That didn't mean that this moment wasn't increasingly becoming more awkward. "So, what brings you here?" the lack of enthusiasm could have been mistaken for coldness, but really he was trying to bury his emotions deep. "Well, I need to say I miss you. Like, I miss you more than I have ever missed anyone. And I know not much has changed in our lives. I also know you love the grand gesture so I was hoping that maybe me showing up unannounced could be grand enough for us to talk and maybe see if we still had a spark?" Those were the last words he was expecting. The coldness in her voice when she had ended things made it seem as though he was never even a second thought to her. He felt like he had been forgotten the moment he walked out her door. This had only been confirmed by her lack of communication after the break up. Who lets someone drive sixteen hours and doesn't make sure they at least got home ok? That didn't really say love in his book. Yet as he gazed into her eyes he felt the warmth of love and desire filling him. He wanted to touch her, to taste her, to have her wrapped in his arms and know that they were one again. The conflict was great. He knew touching her would be dangerous, and so he did the only thing he could to make sure he did not elicit the temptation any further, he turned on his heel and began back around the bar. The humiliation of defeat slowly crept from her stomach to her heart. It would have been easy to just let it end, walk away and never look back. But that was not who she was. Either help me or get out of my way was one of her life mottos. Her next move had to be played perfectly, and she knew it. She waited until he was behind the bar with his back turned to her before she approached the bar from the other side. "I know I hurt you, and it hurt me too. I did what I did because I needed to protect myself from what I was feeling. I was going through a lot of changes and frankly I was scared. I left you because I thought I needed more than you offered, and what I see is that while you have your faults and areas of lacking, so do I. You treated me the way you would treat anyone that carried my nickname from you... like a queen. I don't want to live another day without you. I will, but ..." she looked down at the bar as he hadn't even turned around to look at her during her speech. It felt pointless to go on any further. She took out a sheet of paper from her purse and wrote a quick note. She turned and walked towards the door, only taking one last look at his back before leaving. The host came to the bar when she noticed he was not turning around. She grabbed the note and held it out to him. A few seconds later he turned to face her; his eyes were red and filled with tears. The host came around the bar, took him in her arms trying to be of comfort. She knew how hard the last year had been on him. "I think she's serious this time. I really don't think she is walking away again." And with that she handed him the note and returned to her duties. Gratitude was all he could feel for her as he looked at the note in his hands. Through teary eyes he read what had been left for him. "I'm at the same place I stayed the only time I was in this town, if you change your mind. I'm going home in two days. I will only accept forever, for that's what I'm willing to give. Valleys and peaks, the three of us can do this. You, me and God together forever." He wept. She would arrive home four days later, exhausted and disappointed. She had wanted to make things right and felt like she had given it her best. She also felt like he was a fool for letting her re-walk away, but that was his deal to live with, not hers. Maybe God hadn't wanted this all along. Her bedroom felt safe and comfortable as she half stomped into it, still feeling the slight sting of the weekend. Her dog nipping at her heels, grateful to be back from the boarding kennel she had to leave it at for the duration of her quest gave her a quick, and almost immediate, lifting in her spirit. No matter what, the presence of the little rascal made her feel better and quickly drove a small smile to her lips. The shower sent out a silent come hither, and she quickly immersed herself in the stinging droplets slowly melting away everything she was feeling. All too quickly the soothing heat had turned to icy pelts, and she silently wondered how long she had been in there, and begrudging slid out of the spray and quickly dried to help ease the transition back into the normal temperature. As soon as she was in her favorite bedtime attire (a blue t-shirt and low riding pink short shorts) the urge to finalize the day with a glass of pinot grigio was too much to turn down. The cool fluid filled her glass quickly and in no time at all she and her furry friend were cuddled on the couch prepared for a night of Netflix, and wine. No sooner had she hit the play button on some movie that was in her queue, did an almost soft rapping occur on her door. Looking at the time she could not possibly know who would want anything from her. She begged and pleaded against all hopes that it was not the guy she had just been seeing. That ordeal was not something she wished to re-hash, especially considering the way things had gone in Iowa. Her mouth dropped open as she looked out the peep hole and could not believe what she saw. There standing in the hallway was the treasure she had gone all that distance to find. Could this be happening? She had to admit that he was cold towards her; no matter if she thought she may have deserved a small piece of it, but this, this was almost a slap in the face. Sure she had put herself out there, but he had a chance to make it right. She gave him the grand gesture, and it wasn't enough, and now he had the audacity to show up here, knocking on her door. Yet her heart leapt into her throat as she reached for the lock. A moment of hesitation stood in her mind as she felt the cold steel in her fingers. She needed to know what was so important that he would drive all this way, after she had already given him his chance to be with her again. That rejection still lived in her. Despite that her fingers turned the lock. The air that hit her was suddenly chilly just as it would be before the clouds let loose rain. A very quick glance told her that in fact a storm must be brewing. She took a small step out into the un-walled hallway as she closed the door behind her, being careful to leave her foot at the bottom of the door for as long as possible to make sure her furry companion did not seize the opportunity to make a run for it. "Dare I ask what brings you to my door four days after I basically threw myself at you?" there was a little ice in her voice as the question came out. "First I need to say I admire you." These were not words she was expecting. "It took a lot of courage to do what you did, and for that I admire you, and I am grateful. I was a jerk to you in Iowa, and for that I am sorry." It was here that she really looked at him for the first time. His hair was a mess, and his goatee had turned into a full-fledged beard that had a thickness to it that she was not sure she liked. How she did not notice that earlier was beyond her, but she did have a lot on her mind and sometimes when one is too focused the small details can elude one's mind. "I am sorry for hurting you, and I hope you can understand and forgive me. The last year has been hell on me. I never thought in a million years I would ever hear your voice again, let alone ever see your face again. And when you walked in, it was almost too much to take. I had told you before I thought you were my one and only. But you walked away, and chose someone else over me." She had never said that was the reason she had ended things, and she now had to admire his keenness of the previous situation. It kind of shocked her how perceptive he was about her. "So here I am now, trying to do for you what you did for me. I want you, I always have. I have dreamt of you every night for the last year. You are always in my thoughts. While not always in a good way, and yes I have spoken ill of you, as one would speak of someone who destroyed their heart, all I ever wanted was you. Not what you do or what you offer. Just you. You were always good enough for me; I'm just not sure you ever really thought I was good enough for you." "But you..." she tried to cut in, only to be cut off just as quickly. "No, I have had a year to ponder this! A year!! You took away a year out of my life, no our lives, that we could have had. And while admittedly not much has changed in my life, and all those things you said you were worried about have not all be addressed, my feelings for you have not changed. Yes at times I have hated you for walking away, but at the end of the day all I want is to wrap you in my arms as you tell me about your day. To hold your hand as we walk along the road. I want to be the last person to kiss your lips, and the last thought that you have at night, just as you have been mine." "I understand where some of your hesitation came from. The problem was you would tell me of these things you had done with other guys. Truth be told some of them were hot. Like thinking of you pressed against the window of your old house. So I would want to re-enact them with you, and you always turned me down, accusing me of wanting to share you, when in reality, I was just wanting to fulfill you and me. And when you turned me down it was like you were telling me I didn't measure up, or that I did not ever have the hold of your passions the way they did. Basically I felt like a fling" "And not just because of all of that, but because of how this ended. You never even called or texted me to make sure I had gotten home ok. I was someone you had talked about marriage with, and yet I wasn't even deserving of a phone call. One phone call is..." She cut him off with a kiss to lips that almost felt like it came out of nowhere. She knew it was hard for him, but it had been hard for her as well. They both needed to heal, and sometimes a kiss is just the tool for that task. She didn't mean for it to be a long kiss, just long enough to break up his negative ramblings. There would be more time for talking, but right now she needed to feel his love. Soon her lips were parting inviting a deeper more intimate kiss. She wanted to taste him again, to feel his arms wrapped around her, and he wanted to pull her in more than anything, but there was more on his mind. He pulled back to try and get another word out, and partly succeeded. One or two unidentifiable syllables came out before her lips found his again as lightning flashed across the sky. This time her mouth would be consumed by his no matter the cost. His resolve was lessoning as his hands found her hips. He started to push her away, but the mere feel of her was too much to resist. What began as an attempt to create distance quickly turned into a wanton tightening of his grip. Soon his lips parted and his tongue found her eager mouth. The rain slowly began to fall and they could feel it lightly hitting them in the open hallway of her apartment building. Normally she would be concerned about what her neighbors would think of the on goings of her personal life, but he was far more important to her right now than their opinions. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he wrapped his arms around her back pulling her closer. Soon his mouth moved from her lips to her cheek, then slowly down her jaw line giving her little nips along the way. God had she missed those. Soon his mouth was on her neck and she felt her blood go hot. Another flash of lightning crossed the sky as thunder gave its low growl. The rain began to intensify, so she began to slowly back towards the door, trying hard not to break the connection they had. Step by step she moved and was rewarded with his matching movements. Her hand found the knob of the door as another bolt of lightning lit up the sky. His hands had dug into her backside as she turned the knob and they both almost ended up on the floor as the door gave way. His lips returned to hers as he kicked the door shut. As soon as the door was shut she pushed him back against it to try and shift momentum to her desires. Soon it was her that was nipping at exposed flesh, working her way to one of his favorite spots, the base of his neck. She pulled down his shirt a little bit to lightly bite him and taste the saltiness of his dried sweat in that little spot. Thunder rumbled and the lightning tore through the sky. His moan was almost lost in the other sound. Her hands began to slide up the front of his shirt, while his made their way on her back. He had missed the feeling of her skin, and reveled in the feeling of her now. The creamy milky color she had almost made her glow at times. Another bolt of lightning soared across the sky, and with it went the lights of the apartment. If either one noticed it went undetected as their passion and lust grew. She felt, rather than saw, the scars on his collarbone. This caused her a second of thought, as he had been honest of his cutting addiction. She slowed the pace of her kisses to try and convey a different quality. She went from primal need, to a softer more tender need. She wanted his safety and trust. She lightly kissed the scars on his collarbone, and then moved to his shoulder where another ten lived. She kissed each of them without hesitation or fear. With the last one, she drew out her tongue and licked it. It was a weird feeling, the elevated skin creating ridges that she could measure with the use of her mouth. After the first she needed to do it again, and again. Slowly the primal urge began to take over. Conflict of Desire And not just in her. He grabbed head and pulled her mouth to his again as he rained kiss after kiss down on her, the whole time being treated to glimpse of her face as the lightning shown through the window, and the thunder would give its rumble to remind everyone it was there. Soon his hands were no longer contained to her back, and soon the soft flesh of her belly was being caressed. He needed to see her again, needed reminding of how wonderfully beautiful her body was. Hastily he yanked the shirt up and was rewarded with her soft white complexion. She almost glowed against the darkness of the room. He took a couple of seconds to drink in the treasure he had uncovered. Her breasts were just as large and beautiful as he remembered. Her stomach rose and fell with every pant she let out. He drank in the vision before him even as he lowered his head to the top of her cleavage. She knew what was in store. He would take a slow and very deliberate passage around her breasts making her yearn and hunger for the climax of feeling his mouth close on her growingly sensitive bud. He would nip here and there, lick in other areas, and suck in others. With the anticipation came an urgency that he would not give into. The more she tried to move so that his mouth would find her, the more he would move away. It drove her wild in two ways at once. He did know how to make her body sing. Finally she felt his mouth pull away from her skin. She knew it was going to happen, and she knew he would make her wait for it. The seconds went by like hours as she felt his breath hit her slowly hardening nipple. Almost simultaneously another thunder roll was heard, and his mouth found her prize. She grabbed the back of his head as a half moan, half yell escaped her lips. She bit her lip and he bit her first on the left side, and then moved to the right. His hands were attempting to lower her shorts right there. She wanted this to be magical, not just some lust filled event. She grabbed his wrist and tried to move him towards the bedroom. He moaned a resistance, and kept pulling on her waistband. She kept trying to move to the bedroom, and felt his leg slide behind hers. In a second she landed softly on the carpet and his mouth had moved to her belly. It didn't take long for her to give up the struggle. Soon her shorts were sliding down her legs, and his kisses were fallowing. She felt his kisses, and nibbles down her belly, sideways to her ribs, back to the belly. He stopped at her belly button to kiss and lick her in way to give her a preview of things to come. Her hips ground against him as his hand sought out her heat. His tongue kept flicking against her small opening as his fingers found her now wet button. The two sensations shot the same kind of electricity that could be imagined filling the sky. Soon her unspoken requests were being met as he relinquished his control of her belly button and began drifting southward again. H slid over to nibble on each hip, and while on the left one began to glide downward again. He got to her lightly trimmed patch when he pulled his mouth off of her, eliciting a soft whimper from her. She was rewarded with the feeling of his mouth on her right thigh, about an inch below where she really wanted it. She felt him sucking on her thigh almost the way a hungry vampire would feast on her, and enjoyed the feeling of hunger from him. He then created further frustration in her by moving to her other thigh, and doing the same thing to her there. He teased her again by pulling his mouth off of her, at the same moment sliding his finger into her well lubricated slit. She felt the intruding finger glide in to her and immediately began searching for her soft, spongy button. As soon as he found it, all urgency left his movements. He slowly worked it from side to side stirring in her a need and desire she could not measure. She wanted to feel other parts of him in her, and he was drawing this out far longer than she was willing to wait. She reached down trying to pull him up to her, but he refused to go. Instead he leaned down and blew air on to her wetness. The lightning filled the apartment with its radiant white light yet again, and the roar of thunder was like the gun shot at the start of a foot race. As soon as it began he lowered his head to her parts and began to feast on her. He began by sucking on her lips, taking time to savor each one. When he was satisfied with that he would move his mouth up to her the folds around her button and carefully lick around it. This brought a cry out of her, as she wiggled her hips. He knew she wanted to feel release, and it was time. He lightly licked her swollen clit, and was met with a pleased sigh. He began lightly on the sensitive organ. A lick here and few more there, it was a nice pace. Soon his own hunger took over and began to suck and rapidly lick on her, all the while his finger doing its little dance inside of her. It did not take much for the waves of her first orgasm to wash over her. She felt her toes curl as her legs wrapped around him, her head went back and a primal scream came out from deep inside of her. Her body twitched a few times, and her breathing went hard. He kept at her until a second wave washed over her. This one left her feeling so totally consumed she did not think she could take anymore. She pulled on him, this time he complied. He withdrew his finger and began to work his way back up to her, kissing each spot as he went back up. When he was face to face with her, he landed a crushing kiss on her lips. He felt her hands began to slide between them searching for his pants. He lifted himself up to remove his shirt, she sat up and quickly had his jeans unbuttoned. In seconds they were pushed off his legs, and she was once again under him. His hardness was clearly evident as it bumped against her slightly. His lips found hers again, this time lighter. This wasn't the crushing kiss of passion and desire; this was the tender kiss of love and feeling. She felt him shift on top of her. She reached between them and guided him to her. It would not be hard to enter her, and she waited while accepting his kiss. He pulled back his head to look in to her ocean blue eyes. There were no words needed. She knew how he felt, and yet could not bear to hear those words in this moment. As his mouth began to part to speak she placed the fingers from her other hand on his mouth softly shushing him. He then gently pushed against her. It was the moment of a lifetime for him. To slowly reenter this woman that had held his heart. The woman who had so completely stolen his heart there would never be one who could measure up. She was his one and only. His queen. As he slid in to her, all felt right in the world again. Their rhythm was slow and sensuous at first. The rocking of their hips meeting in perfect time made for perfect balance. Their hands entwining as the storm outside raged on. He kissed her neck as she turned her head giving him ample access to whatever he desired. As they met each other her mind drifted back to the night he had tied her up. How animalistic he had been with her? It was amazing how completely different that night had been compared to this one. He had been forceful and almost savage in taking her that night, and now he was being gentle almost delicate with her. He pushed into her deeper and deeper. She met each of his thrust with vigor and passion. She wanted this to last forever, and yet wanted the satisfaction of feeling his release. It just wasn't going to happen in this position apparently. He slid out of her, and took her hips in his hands. The turning motion he made gave clear evidence of what he wanted. She obliged by rolling over on to her stomach and drawing her legs under herself, getting on to all fours. He smacked her on her butt, and she moaned. He put his hand where he had smacked her and drew his hand away, only to lightly touch her. He did this again, growing the anticipation of the slap. It didn't come on the first time, or the second. Not even on the third. He pulled her hips towards him, and she felt him positioning himself into her. He thrust once, then twice. On the third thrust he struck home sliding in to her. On his fourth thrust he cracked her firm end once again. A pleasureful yelp escaped from her. Soon he was thrusting harder, and deeper than before. She met his strokes wanting to feel him release on her. She looked back at him, seeing his head thrown back as his flesh collided with hers. She closed her eyes and focused on what was going on inside of her. She felt his member pushing as deep as he could, all the while every now and then getting that painful pleasure of a smack on her elevated buttocks. She could feel his hunger and desire for her, which initiated a wave that she knew there would be no stopping. The surge of pleasure began to rise and soon it came crashing down upon her like a tidal wave. She bucked against him, involuntarily throwing her head back. In a flash his hand found her long hair and pulled her back further by intertwining his fingers in it. The timing of this move only intensified her wave. Once she started coming down from her high, she wanted to put everything into making sure he hit his. She turned her head to look at him. He quickly met her eyes and could see the glazed over satisfaction in her gaze in the flash of light from a bolt of blue energy zipping by outside. She had been a very willing and fulfilled partner. As he looked deeper into her eyes, he saw something different. It was true he loved her, and desired her more than anything. He had always felt like an unequal in that respect. Now looking at her, he saw something different. He saw her hunger to please him, and as this realization sunk in, something happened that turned his passion from lust to a full-fledged hurricane of desire. She stared deep in his eyes, as he drank in her ocean blues, then she winked and gave an evil little smile. In a flash she had disengaged herself from him, turned to face him and kissed him roughly. While kissing him she slid back on to her back and guided him back to her love canal. As he slid back into her, she hooked her ankles around his waist trapping him inside of her. She broke the kiss and moved her lips to his ear and whispered something truly magical to his hopeless romantic soul. "Take me like you have never taken anyone before, because I want to be the last girl who ever gets to feel your cock inside of her." with that she pulled her legs as tight as possible against him, forcing him deep within her. It was almost more than he could stand. No it was more than he could stand. With just a few quick thrusts, he knew it wouldn't be much longer before he erupted. This created dilemma in his mind for they had no protection. What if she didn't release him before he came? They were not married, and a child out of wedlock, well he had been down that road before and it wasn't fun. But that would not be a worry for the moment. He loved this feeling of being trapped as he pushed into her. He loved the fact that she wanted him as much as he wanted her. This is all he had ever dreamed of, being loved and wanted equally. He picked up his pace, and felt the inevitable coming faster. He gave a warning grunt but her legs did not open. He pushed against her knees but they would not budge. He opened his mouth to try and vocalize but she quickly kissed him. He broke contact with her just enough to utter some kind of sounds. "I'm goin..." "I know. I want to feel it happen. Let it happen." With that he exploded inside of her. They spent a few minutes panting and trying to get their breath back. The rest of the evening they basked in each other. Making love a few times, cuddling in between. They snacked on carrots and other things, and even bathed together, one of his favorite things to do. Eventually sleep would consume them and it would be peaceful as they cuddled throughout the night. As it usually happened for them she would rise earlier. She would use the restroom, make the rounds of the apartment, feed the dog, and start the coffee. She walked back into the bedroom and saw him lying there. He had once said that they never said good-bye to each other in a love making kind of way. They both had conveyed that they loved morning sex, and she really did want him to feel cared about more so than the first run they had. She silently climbed onto the bed untying her robe and letting it fall to the floor as she did so. She looked at his cubby body and found a masculine beauty in it. No he would never be Brad Pitt, but he would be all hers, and that fact was worth way more than wash board abs. With soft fingers she slid the blanket away from his midsection, slowly unveiling him more and more to eyes as she drank him in in the soft morning light. Soon her intended target appeared slightly stiff, and full of potential. She looked at his face one last time to make sure he was still in a deep sleep. Her fingers moved slowly as she gently wrapped her hand around his hot flesh. She dared not stroke him too much too soon; she wanted to savor this moment. Her head moved at a snail's pace as her mouth slowly opened to lightly kiss the tip of him with a crack between her lips. She would do this again slowly opening more of her mouth, and yet again until the spongy tip was partially inserted in her mouth. She changed the angle of her head and gave his shaft a slow, long lick from tip to base on the bottom, then came back the same way on the side. He tasted of salt, and remnants of her. This thought got her juices going again. Hunger began to feed her movements as she took his tip in her mouth and she coated it with her saliva. Her next bob would take her further down the shaft feeling his hot velvet covered member in her mouth. She wanted more of him, and so she took more of him. She wanted his wake up to be the best ever. As she began her slow bobbing action, her hand began to message his shaft, rotating to create a pleasureful friction on him. He must have enjoyed this for he uttered a moan from his sleep. She continued her slow bobbing and twist, as a new element got added. Her other hand slid upwards and gently caressed his balls bumping her chin every now and then. Her coating on him was good enough that she could afford a few hand strokes while she gently took each of his testicles in her mouth and hand. She would gently suck on one while fondling the other and then vice versa. His hips shifted as she began to feel him wake up. He had just begun to sit up and reach for her, when she placed a hand on his chest and pushed him down. This was about him, as he had made it about her numerous times before. Although she did have to admit her kitten was on fire. A problem to deal with after the current situation had been resolved. She moved back to his shaft and resumed her work on him. His taste was amazing, and she had never realized how much it had been missed. The anticipation for the climax was killing her. That meant her strokes, both hand and oral, became longer and more frequent. His hips met her a few times, demonstrating he wanted this as bad as she did. She pulled off of him to lick and caress some more. Her jaw was getting tired but that would not stop the onslaught. Everything is doable with will power. She gobbled his friend again, swirling her tongue around his head, feeling it give up some of its pre-cum, a delicious treat. Was it more the taste of the substance or the taste of success in her work that was sweeter? She did not know, but relished in both equally. Again his hips lifted to meet her waiting mouth. She then decided to hold her head steady and let him fuck her mouth. It wasn't long before his hand found hers, and she being to bob yet again, this time with more fervor, and a faster pace. Within seconds of this move she was rewarded with a thick stream of salty victory. She gulped down the first wave, and the second. His convulsing member was lodged in her mouth, and the feeling of it was indescribable. The knowing of how much he loved it when she gave him this was fulfilling her, and she knew it would be returned. That was just who he was. Seconds later she was on her back, and their day was off to a thrilling start. "Sir, excuse me sir..." a voice called out to him. He looked in the direction of the voice with a slight irritation. It was his job to serve the guests, that didn't mean he wanted to be interrupted when having these thoughts. "How can I help?" he asked unenthusiastically. "Our waitress was supposed to bring us some more fires, and we haven't seen her in a few minutes." Requested the slightly overweight forty year old woman in front of him. "Of course. I'll go grab some for you. Is there anything else I can do?" "No just the fries, thank you" she said with a smile on her face. He willed his body away from the bar where he had been leaning. He looked over at the clock, and only a minute had ticked off of it. That whole fantasy had taken one minute to play out in his mind. And fantasy is what it was. It had been almost a year since she had left. A year had gone by without as much as a peep. Well besides the anonymous message left on some message board, but that could hardly count seeing as she didn't do it directly. No it had been a year, and he had changed in that year. He was sure she had too. Probably not in the same ways he had. He was more cynical now. The desire for marriage and a wife was buried deep inside under regret, self-loathing, and a small amount of anger. Not to forget he couldn't remember the last time he had prayed to God. He still defended God at a seconds notice at work, but just felt disconnected. Not a good feeling for a guy getting ready to launch a public speaking career, and a book tour. But you have to go through the valleys to reach the majesty of the peak. He wanted to believe that there was someone out there who would love him, but that hope was buried too. He had met his soul mate, and she chose someone else. But he had grown a little. Instead of hating her he wished her well. Instead of cutting himself every day, he now asked himself how he could talk to schools and youth groups about this addiction if he couldn't stop doing it. Where would the victory be? He just wanted to be happy, and prayed that whoever she had chosen over him was treating her right. She was a gift, and they had better realize that. He shook his head as he walked around the bar. As he was walking by, one of the regulars grabbed his arm and began a conversation about the bartenders' upcoming book. He tried to end it quickly but the man would not let it go. He felt a wave of warm air hit his face as the summer snuck its way into the burger joint. He looked over in the direction of the door, and then back at the guest. Suddenly he shot his gaze back to the door, a perfect double take.