0 comments/ 71738 views/ 34 favorites Texas Heat By: MercuryLove31 I've gotten in the habit of stopping at one gas station during my commute to work. I live in Pennsylvania and work in New Jersey. The gas in Jersey is always a little cheaper, so I buy gas there. The attendants have come to recognize me now. Probably because I stop there around the same time every day, I always give them tips...and because I drive a Mercedes. It's a Mercedes convertible. It's a sweet car that everyone fawns over. I can't really afford it, but I simply had to have it, so I've been working my ass off to pay for it. Between the car and my new house, I barely have enough money to take an annual vacation. It's a good thing I keep my vacations pretty simple (usually I rent a car and drive down to New Orleans to hang out with a college friend who moved down there a few years ago). The job I commute to is not the most prestigious job in the world. I'm the executive assistant for the President of a small accounting firm. The guy I work for is a real nitpicky pain in the ass, but he pays me rather well, probably because I have some graduate school under my belt. I've worked for him for about five years now, so we've developed a nice rhythm. It's rather amusing to see me, a 37 year old, five foot three, pleasantly plump dark-skinned woman taking a 62 year old, six foot two, lean, attractive white male who earns more than five times my salary to task. Everyone in the office loves it when I have to put him in his place periodically. And personally, I think he has a bit of a "mammy complex" since he tolerates it when I chastise him. Anyway, I say there's no point in rocking my financial boat by looking for another job closer to home since this one is working out just fine. So anyway, I moved out to the Poconos area of Pennsylvania about two years ago because I wanted to buy a house. I couldn't afford to live in the "decent" parts of New Jersey. For those of you who don't know the area, many parts of northern New Jersey became hot commodities for New Yorkers trying to escape the ridiculous prices of the City. But as they moved out to Jersey, the prices skyrocketed there. So, anyone earning a modest living, such as myself, and trying to buy a home, is up shit's creek for the most part. Unless you move to an "up and coming" area like the Poconos. The area where I bought was still considered "rural" two years earlier. It's only recently been defined as a "suburb." What's odd is that I like the area. I'm originally from Philadelphia, and a city girl at heart, but the population in my area is quite diverse (mostly Jews and Italians, but a few blacks and Hispanics also) and everyone is friendly. I've never really lived in a burb, so it's been an experience. I bought the smallest house in the development, only two bedrooms, but it's enough space for me. Okay, so it's around 6:30am and I'm on my way to work as usual. I always leave early (around 5:30) to try and avoid the horrific traffic on I80. I typically get to work around 7:30am and Michael, my boss, let's me leave around 4pm. As I'm pulling into my favorite gas station, I start to smile. I like the guys on the pumps. They're sweet and most of them have tried to hit on me at least once. That's the thing with Hispanic men, they don't seem to care if you're carrying a little extra weight. I'm a rather attractive woman, even with my size 16 hips. An ex boyfriend used to call me his chocolate chip because of my dark skin color. I have a round face, almond shaped eyes the color of amber, a pudgy little nose and full lips. It was not a face you'd see on a magazine cover any time in the near future, but I received my fair share of attention. I hadn't dated anyone in about three years, however. Not because no one expressed an interest, but because I'd grown bored with the dating scene. I was ready to settle down and get married, but the idea of being some man's wife, and all the social bullshit that went along with that, made my skin crawl. So, I'd pulled out of the dating scene and just decided to enjoy life with me, myself and I for a little while. Today Juan was pumping my gas. He was flirting with me a little while he cleaned my windshield and I smiled, enjoying the attention. When he was done topping off my tank, I handed him my credit card and prepared to wait for him to run it. I remembered I'd been listening to an interesting story on the BBC and decided to catch up while I waited. So, I turned the ignition key, preparing to hear the engine roar to life...and nothing happened. I raised a brow. This was a $65,000 car and I've only had it for two years. No fucking way there should be anything wrong with it! I tried turning the key again, as Juan was making his way back to me with the credit card receipt, and nothing happened. I felt my chest tighten up just a little. The last thing I need is for anything to be wrong with this car. I have a small cache of money set aside for "emergencies," but I hadn't had a chance to really build up that reserve yet. Something wrong with the car would really hurt me right now. "¿Que pasa, negrota?" Juan asked. I tried not to flinch at the term. I used to think they were calling me a nigger, but I found out that 'negrota' was a term of fondness used for dark-skinned people in some Latin cultures. Hey, who knew? "Fucking car won't start." I bit out, impatient and annoyed. "Ah really? Lemme try it." So I hop out and he gets behind the wheel. I'm wondering if his hands smell like gas and weather or not that will fuck up the baby soft leather on the steering wheel. Sorry to sound like a snotty bitch, but did I mention this car was costing me $65,000? My monthly payments were over $1,200! He tried the key and got nothing. Now I'm getting pissed. Who ever heard of a fucking Mercedes dying after two years? I treated this car like it was my child! Ugh! Not to mention Michael had a Board meeting this morning and I had his PowerPoint presentation! Fuck, fuck, fuck! Okay, by now almost every guy at the station had a turn behind the wheel. They had popped the hood and were looking at the engine as if they knew what the hell they were looking for. There was a garage attached to the gas station, but these guys weren't mechanics. Finally, I heard someone say "get the boss." I pulled my leather knapsack from the front seat and reached in for my cell phone. I was about to really fuck up Michael's day so why delay the inevitable? I dialed his home number. "Evy, what's wrong? You okay?" I smiled, he could be sweet when he wanted to, but that wouldn't last long. "Michael, my damn car died at a gas station." "What? The Mercedes?" "Yea. And I have your presentation with me." A moment of silence before, "fuck. Uh...fuck! What do we do?" I looked behind me, the guys were pushing my car toward the garage. I sighed, "there's a Starbucks about 15 minutes from here. They're wireless. If I can get someone to drive me there, I'll email the presentation to you, okay? I'll call as soon as I find out." "Uh, yea, okay. Why the fuck did you take the presentation home?" "Michael, you made like a million changes yesterday, remember? I had to take it home if you wanted it done this morning." Another pause and I could hear his brain trying to find something else to bitch and moan about. He couldn't find anything so he sighed, "yea, okay. Call me as soon as you know something, okay?" And he hung up. Okay, he's a jerk. But, like I said before, he pays well. I followed the guys into the garage. I'd never been in here before. It looked...well, like a garage. There are three of those huge lifts things, oil and dirt everywhere, tools that look like they hailed from the Medieval period, and other stupid things like half naked women carelessly tacked up on walls. The place needed some organization and a good cleaning, what my mother liked to call a "woman's touch." But it seemed like a woman hadn't been in here for years. "Get her the fuck out of here." The raspy growl came from a person half hidden by a car. I don't recall seeing the legs sticking out before, I would have remembered. He was wearing black jeans that looked painted on and they revealed every inch of muscle on a pair of beautifully sculpted thighs. This guy worked out at a gym regularly, that was clear. I couldn't help but admire those thighs before Juan tapped my shoulder and pointed in the direction of a tiny little room that must serve as an office. I wasn't annoyed, I'd been around long enough to know they didn't want you in their work space because if anything happened it would mean a wicked lawsuit. I sighed, glanced at the pricey Movado on my wrist (a gift from Michael for my fifth year anniversary) and headed in the direction of the office. I'd been sitting there for quite a few minutes when Juan came in to check on me. "What's up?" I asked. "Ah, the boss lady still looks." Boss lady? Did he say lady? That deep voice and those thighs could not have belonged to a woman. "Boss lady?" "Si." I smirked. A woman with thighs like that, a deep ass voice and she worked in a garage? She had to be a big ol' dyke. I mentally chastised myself for the un-PC thought and tried to ask Juan, with my very limited knowledge of Spanish, to drive me to Starbuck's. He hesitated, biting his lip. "Necesito permiso." He finally said, which I think meant he had to ask the 'boss lady.' He disappeared and returned a few minutes later. "She say okay." I sighed, dialing Michael's number as I followed Juan to a very old, pretty banged up Honda. The engine purred to life, unlike my own overpriced vehicle, and we were on our way within seconds. I took in the lovely sight of leaves turning gold, orange and rust as we drove on the back roads to the coffee shop. I was walking Michael through the steps needed to retrieve the presentation off of his email and copy it onto a CD. It was amazing to me how much this guy earned considering he was still trying to master email. I sighed and walked him through it for the third time. When he seemed like he had a clue, I hung up and called the office. I knew Julie, the receptionist, would be in early. I told her what happened and suggested she make herself available for Michael just in case he needed help. I bought Juan a café latte and a slice of lemon pound cake so that no one would kick us out while I accessed my email. Within minutes I had sent the email to Michael, with a back up to Julie, and I was now sitting in the Honda again as Juan continued to enjoy his $6 feast. It was close to 8am and I was losing hope of making it to the office before the Board meeting. Juan dropped me off in the tiny, dingy office before making his way back to the pumps. I smiled as he held up his cup of coffee and polished off the rest of the pound cake, much to the envy of his co-workers. I should have brought something back for them, Michael would have reimbursed me for it, but my mind had been a million miles away. I was growing more anxious and more annoyed by the minute. When my cell rang, and Michael demonstrated that he was indeed clueless when it came to computers, I told him to buzz Julie and the two of us retrieved the file for him. Julie agreed to sit in on the meeting if I didn't make it there in time. I was pretty sure, glancing at my watch yet again, that I wouldn't make it. I could hear Michael was annoyed, but my hands were tied. I paced the tiny office again and began to wonder if I should just call a tow truck. The vehicle warranty stipulated that all work had to be performed by a garage affiliated with Mercedes. I doubt this little dump was affiliated. I sighed, looking around the office impatiently. I recognized all the required forms that had to be displayed in a mechanic's office. They were all made out in the name of Pasadena Williams. Pasadena? What the hell kind of name was that, I wondered? I sighed again, growing more and more impatient. When the office door swung open, I thought it was Juan coming to check on me again. It wasn't. I guess this was the 'boss lady.' Our eyes met and I...well, I don't know what happened. I think my mind went blank for just a moment as I took her in. She was tall, probably close to Michael's height, but she was far from lean. She had muscles on top of muscles. It wasn't just the perfectly sculpted thighs either. Her white wife beater tee revealed a taut, flat stomach, small, firm breasts, and biceps that were as wide around. She moved effortlessly, carrying her muscled bulk easily, almost gracefully. Her skin was a rich caramel, her face wide and flat, her nose narrow with an odd bump on the ridge, her lips thin, her jaw square. It wasn't an attractive face at all. It was hard and...well, to be honest, a little masculine. Her hair, braided back into cornrows (think about the rapper Ludacris prior to the butchering of his hair), didn't help soften her image at all. There was nothing appealing about her looks...and yet she still made my mind go blank. The entirety of her was mind numbing. I wouldn't say I was attracted to her, but there was some kind of...I didn't know how to describe it, so I decided to ignore it. I thought she'd come to tell me about my car, but instead she sat behind a badly scratched metal desk and picked up the phone. She began speaking car talk and I tuned out, continuing to wait, pacing around the tiny space restlessly. I could feel my patience running out. When she hung up the phone, I turned to her. She was on her feet again, towering over me, and then she was heading toward the door. "Uh, excuse me?" I came out as a squeak and I cleared my voice. She turned around to look at me and raised a brow. "My car? The Mercedes convertible?" "You're not first on my list, Princess." And she was gone, just like that. Now I was fuming. What the fuck? Rude and slow? I mean, it was fine when the guys called me nicknames, we had a bit of a playful relationship, but I didn't even know her. And I had the feeling she didn't use that term in a cute, friendly kind of way. Not to mention she hadn't even looked at my car yet! I fumed for about 30 more minutes and then said to myself 'fuck this.' I had the gold package from AAA. They would tow me 100 miles without charging me a dime. I grabbed my cell phone, punched in some numbers and had been on hold for about 15 minutes when the office door opened again. It was her. I ignored her, waiting for someone to pick up the line at AAA. She was still there when I asked for a tow truck. When asked for an address, I snatched a business card from her desk and read it to them. They said I would have to wait 1-2 hours. I repeated it, shocked, and they confirmed. I hung up and was about to kick at an empty chair when my eyes caught her watching me. My mind went blank again. I'm not sure for how long, but I remember those intense, dark brown eyes, eyes the color of a deep, rich chestnut, simply sucking me in for just an instant before I blinked and shook my head. I didn't know what this woman was doing to me and I didn't care to think about it at the moment. I just wanted to get back on the road. "You want me to look at it or not?" Her voice was really deep and quite raspy, but if you paid attention you could tell it wasn't really deep enough to be a man's voice. I was distracted by the ripple of her biceps as she wrote something on a notepad. When she looked up and raised a brow, I had to think for a moment before I could remember her question. "Uh, yea, sure. But I think I have to have someone certified by Mercedes work on it." She looked at me intently for a moment and then glanced at a plaque on a nearby wall. I don't know how I missed it, but the plaque clearly stated they were certified to work on luxury vehicles, including Mercedes. I was glad my skin was so dark because it hid my blush. "Oh. Ummm...do you have any idea how long before you can look at it?" "Already did. Starter's bad. Juan went to pick one up. It won't be ready for an hour at least. Warranty covers it." I nodded, glad it wouldn't cost me anything. God, she was really making me nervous and I had no idea why. "Anything else, Princess?" She asked with a smirk. I bit back a snide comment, remembering she still had to fix my car, and shook my head. She left me alone in the office and I released a breath I hadn't even realized I was holding. I was a bit miffed that she called me "princess." She didn't even know me. Glancing down at my red Armani power suit (I bought it at half price), the $300 pumps on my feet, the $700 watch on my wrist and thinking about the diamond studs in my ears, I had a better idea why she called me "princess." It wasn't true, however. When I had to represent Michael at Board meetings, he wanted me dressed nicely. I only had a few power suits, I hadn't bought the watch, the shoes were a gift from my mother three birthdays ago, the earnings were a gift from my father when I turned 21, and the car...well, I already told you I was struggling to pay for it. I was no princess...and I shouldn't give a shit if she thought I was. Shaking my head once more to clear it, I set about making a few more phone calls. The 'boss lady' did not return to the office. Juan took care of me after that. I really didn't have to pay a cent, I only had to sit and wait for almost two hours before my car was ready. I finished signing the paperwork, sat behind the wheel, and was relieved when the engine purred to life. I was also impressed that they had not gotten a speck of dirt or grease on my car. Glancing at my watch for the hundredth time, I realized I didn't have time for gratitude. It was almost eleven when I finally arrived at work. I was absolutely annoyed and hungry to boot. I walked in just as the Board meeting was ending. Michael was so happy to see me, as were some of the other board members, that he invited me to lunch with them, a first. I couldn't decline, considering the importance of the people standing in the corridor waiting for me to answer, so I asked that they let me freshen up just a bit. I hurried to Michael's private bath (I was the only other person allowed to use it), splashed some cold water on my face, reapplied my make-up, combed my fingers through the silken curls on my head, took a deep breath and put on my million-dollar smile. When I rejoined them, Michael took hold of my arm and led me to his car. We were escorting the President of the Board and Michael preferred to have someone else around whenever he drove with the muckety-mucks. I loved Michael's car. It was also a Mercedes, a sedan, but it was much nicer than mine. We chatted about some of the current events in the news, the weather, I asked how the presentation went and Michael said it was perfect. He even took the time to praise me, something else that was rare. I decided he was probably going senile, but I intended to enjoy the moment. Lunch at a local posh restaurant was excellent and the rest of the day flew by. Michael told me I looked exhausted and let me leave at 4pm anyway. I couldn't believe my luck and left before he changed his mind. I beat most of the traffic home and was relieved when I kicked off my shoes at my front door and dropped onto the nearest sofa. I must have nodded off because when I woke, it was after 8pm and the house was dark. I undressed on the way upstairs, adding the suit to the pile intended for the dry cleaners. I showered, decided to skip dinner and went directly to bed. * The next morning, although I knew we didn't have much planned for the day in the office, I took my time getting dressed. A slim fitting black skirt that stopped at the knee, sheer black pantyhose, rather plain 3-inch heels, an oversized print blouse, and light make-up. There wasn't much I could do to my hair since I had it cut short last year, but the curls framed my face nicely. I took one final look in the mirror, assured myself I did not resemble a 'princess' today, and headed off to work. As usual, it was around 6:30 when I arrived at the gas station. Juan was off today so Pedro was helping me. I stood from the car as he pumped the gas, assured him he didn't need to clean the windshield, and then shocked myself with my next question. Texas Heat "Is the boss lady here?" A moment of silence passed between us before he said no, but I could see Pedro looking me over as if I'd grown another head. After recovering from the shock of my own question, I could see his mind working a mile a minute. None of the guys had been able to convince me to go out with them. If indeed the boss lady was a dyke, and I felt pretty comfortable making that assumption, then I just confirmed whatever suspicion they had about me. Guys are notorious for thinking a woman is gay if she doesn't want to fuck them. It couldn't be that a woman was just not interested, right? But what the hell was going on with me? That woman had unnerved me yesterday. Had erased every thought from my mind twice. No one had ever had that kind of effect on me. Ever. So, why the hell was I looking for her? Was I attracted to her? I took a moment to recall my reaction to her yesterday. It didn't feel like the reactions I had toward men I found attractive. There was something else...I wasn't sure what. I was curious about her. Maybe I was just lonely and she seemed like an interesting character? I didn't have much going on besides work and a few polite neighbors right now. When I moved to the Poconos the friends I used to hang out with in Jersey disappeared. I wasn't upset with them, distance did that to friendships sometimes. But I hadn't really hung out with anyone in over a year. Yea, that was probably it. I was just looking for a new friend and she was...interesting. Reassured, once again, that I was not a lesbo and was only looking for friends, I climbed behind the wheel of my car and headed off to work. I'd been there for a few hours, working to finish up some projects Michael claimed were needed immediately, before I had a moment to myself. I'm not sure why, but I plugged "Pasadena Williams" into Google and got a few hits. A few shocking hits actually. A local New Jersey paper listed her as one of the most fascinating African American millionaires in New Jersey. Okay, that was a surprise. I recalled those large, calloused hands, the simple clothes streaked with grease and oil, the muscles and the cornrows. A millionaire? The article stated she owned four gas stations/garages in different parts of New Jersey. Her first station had been left to her when her parents died in a car accident years ago. I devoured every word of the article, realizing she had been only 20 when her parents died, calculating that she was now 42. The article also mentioned she'd been an amateur bodybuilder. The picture of her was not flattering, but then, as I noted yesterday, she was not a very attractive woman. Still, the navy double-breasted suit looked good on her. It was a man's suit and I could see a hint of gold at her wrists. I smiled, realizing she was wearing cuff links. A millionaire? This plain looking, rude woman who had kept me waiting forever yesterday? I found it hard to believe. I was reading over the last Google hit when Julie stopped by my desk and asked if I wanted to do lunch. I shut down my computer, grabbed my purse and followed her from the office, thankful for a chance to clear my head. My days went pretty much the same as they always did over the course of the next week, except I added a new step. I always looked for the Boss Lady when I was at the gas station. I hated myself the first few times I asked for her after I read the article, wondering if I was a gold digger looking for someone to help pay my bills. But then I relaxed a bit. Befriending someone, even a millionaire, did not make me a gold digger. I didn't want anything from her considering I was totally attracted to men. And to prove it to myself, I promised to place a personal ad and try dating again. Maybe it was time. I would do it as soon as I had a free moment. After a week, I stopped asking about Pasadena. Either she had no interest in befriending me, or the guys were not telling her I asked about her. Either way, I didn't have time to waste on someone who clearly had no interest in me. So, I decided to place that ad (which I did later on that afternoon) and go on a date. That would probably boost my spirits. I had my first date a few days later. He was also in the accounting field so I thought we would have a lot to talk about. Well, it turns out he lied about a few things. He was not in accounting, he was 66 instead of 46, and he was white (my ad specifically said African American men). Even though he turned out to be quite funny, I was still annoyed. We had dinner, went to a movie, and he kissed me on the cheek after escorting me back to my car. He said I should call if I wanted to see him again, but I already knew I wouldn't. Where I came from, there were rules about dating white guys. You just didn't do it. Inevitably he, or some member of his family, wound up calling you a monkey, eggplant or nigger. I wasn't in the mood to deal with that kind of baggage. I tried three more dates, all the appropriate race and age. One was a male nurse, one was a lawyer and the other was a high school teacher. They were all perfectly nice, but I wasn't interested in a second date with any of them. So I convinced myself that I simply had too much on my plate and that I should wait a little longer before diving back into the dating pool. It had been about three weeks since I'd last seen the boss lady. So, when I pulled up to a pump around 6:30 one morning, I was shocked to see her walking toward me. Juan was also on his way, but she waved him off. My mouth had gone dry and I was too nervous to remember to shut off the engine. "Cut the engine, Princess." I did it without a second thought, slightly annoyed that she called me princess again. I was also slightly out of breath for no reason at all. I glanced in my rear view mirror, taking in the diamond studs again. Fuck, she would catch me on a day that Michael needed me to look professional. He had a conference in New York City today and I was going with him to take notes. So, I had on another power suit, this time a navy one with fine pinstripes, another pair of overpriced pumps, black sheer stockings with seems up the back, and my hair and make-up were tasteful. I sighed, so much for second impressions. She moved to the front of my car to clean the windshield and I took a moment to just watch her. She wore another white wife beater, although it was now mid November and really too chilly for the tee. Her muscles were rippling, even the ones in her neck. Her face was expressionless and still as plain as ever. And yet, I could feel my pulse trip just a few times as I watched the play of muscles across her shoulders and down her arms. Goddamnit, what the hell was wrong with me?! "Oh-uh...Ummm, th-thanks for fixing my car the other day." She only offered a nod in my direction and I wondered why I was stuttering like a fucking idiot. Who cares if she's a millionaire? She didn't look or act like one in my opinion. Her hands were rough and calloused, her clothing streaked with all kinds interesting browns and blacks, and those cornrows hailed straight from the ghetto. She probably lived in the inner city and had a hood-rat braiding her hair. I bit my lip, wondering where that uppity, bourgeoisie rant originated. Considering I was raised in West Philadelphia, and not the nice part either, who was I to talk about cornrows and hood-rats? I watched her move toward the rear of the car and top off the tank. When she screwed the cap back on, I stood from the vehicle to hand her my credit card. She handed the card to Juan who was lounging against a nearby pump. He dashed off to the office to run the card. "Heard you were looking for me." That deep, raspy voice washed over me and I forced myself not to react. I was just looking for a friend, no more than a friend...I kept repeating the mantra. "I-uh, I just, um, wanted to thank you." "No thanks needed, it's my job. Have a good one, Princess." She turned and began to walk back toward the office, but I wanted more. I had to think quickly. "Uh, is your name really Pasadena?" Okay, yes that was a dumb question, but what was I supposed to say?! She stopped, turned to look at me, raised a brow and then...turned around again and went into the office! Ugh! How fucking rude was that? Juan came over to me with the credit card slip and I signed it absently. I didn't realize the embarrassment I felt was written all over my face. Even Juan noticed it. "Don't worry, Negrota, she no talk to no one." I handed the small clipboard back to Juan. "Is she seeing someone?" Okay, that question really shocked the hell of out both of us. I couldn't believe I'd asked it! Juan just looked at me for a moment and then a slow smile spread across his face. "Ah, Negrota, I no know you like chicas." "I don't." I snapped out immediately, realizing how stupid the response sounded. Juan shrugged and shook his head, "I no see no ladies with her for a long time." For some reason, that made me feel better. I have no idea why considering she clearly had no interest in me. And, of course, I was straight...right? I handed Juan a $5 tip, a bit more than I usually gave, and climbed behind the wheel of the Mercedes. I decided, at that moment, to find another gas station. Whatever was going on with me regarding Pasadena Williams was unhealthy. * That mindset lasted exactly a week, and then, just like an addict, I found myself at my old gas station again. The guys seemed happy to see me. They didn't appear to be freaked out that I obviously had a thing for their boss. She was, of course, no where to be found. I was disappointed, but also relieved. I had not spent much time thinking about my feelings for this aloof woman, so it was best if I didn't have to face her right now. Anyway, the guys asked where I had been and I lied and said I'd been out of town. Truthfully, Michael and I had gone to Chicago for two days last week, so it was only a little lie. My spirits were a little higher when I left the station and made my way to work. Clearly I had missed my gas station pals more than I was willing to admit. It was nice to see them again. The day passed quickly (Michael was out all day) and on the way home I did something I normally didn't do. I stopped by the gas station. I had run quite a few errands during the day, so I rationalized that I needed more gas for the morning trip. But if I was honest with myself, that's not why I stopped at the station. I probably had enough gas to get home and back to the station in the morning. I just really wanted to see her. At first glance she wasn't around. None of the attendants on the pumps looked familiar and for once it felt as if I was at any ol' gas station. Pedro, Juan, Miguel, Ben...none of my pals were around. It was a little depressing. The attendant pumping my gas didn't offer a friendly smile and he didn't clean my windshield. That annoyed me...but then, considering none of my friends were there, and Pasadena wasn't around, anything would have annoyed me. I signed the credit card slip and was pulling away from the pump when I saw a tall, muscular form appear from behind an oversized SUV. She walked gracefully and I couldn't help but watch that lithe form as it made its way toward the tiny office. I was so preoccupied that I didn't realize I had hit my breaks when I saw her. The driver behind me also didn't realize it until she rear-ended me. Startled, I blinked and then stepped from my car to assess the damage. My bumper was horribly dented and the paint was scratched in a few places. "Shit, I'm so sorry. I didn't realize you were stopping. Are you okay?" The young blonde woman was frantic. Her hands were shaking and I could see tears in her eyes. I looked at my bumper again and then looked at the front of her SUV. She barely had a scratch. I sighed. "Look, don't worry about it. It was totally my fault. If you don't mind covering the cost of the damage to your own vehicle, I'll take care of mine, okay?" She looked at me as if I was an alien. She'd probably never hear those words again in her life. She looked at the damage done to my car again and then looked at me. "Did you bump your head or something?" She teased a little nervously. I laughed and shook my head, "don't worry about it. I'm serious." She hesitated for just a second longer before she disappeared into her monster-sized SUV and drove off without getting any gas. I guess if I rear-ended someone in a Mercedes and they told me to forget about it, I would also high-tail it out of there before the person changed their mind. I squatted down at the rear of my car, examining the damage more carefully. It would probably cost at least a thousand to fix, if not more. Fuck. There went my annual vacation to New Orleans. "I have a friend who'll fix that for a decent price." I hadn't realized she was near me and the sound of her voice shook me so badly I toppled right over onto my ass. Now I was doubly annoyed considering I had on winter white slacks. I ignored the large, calloused hand reaching out to help me up, scrambling to my feet and craning my neck to check out the damage done to my pants. Yup, there was some kind of brown stain on my rather nicely shaped plump ass. Fuck, fuck, fuck! I looked up into that plain face, not at all amused by the smirk on her face. Damnit, this was all her fault anyway! "No thanks." She shrugged, turning to walk toward the garage. "Suit yourself, Princess," she tossed over her shoulder. "Will you stop calling me that!" The outburst was...well, embarrassing for me, surprising for anyone else watching...and clearly amusing to her. She turned to face me again, that damn brow raised once again. "My name is Evelyn. Evelyn Smallis. Everyone calls me Evy." She peeled a thin white glove off of her right hand and held it out to me. "Pasadena Williams. Dee." I hesitated before I took her hand although I'm not sure why. My reaction told me why. The feel of that roughened palm against my flesh, the strength of that grip...it sent of bolt of electricity right up my arm. Her touch answered all of my questions. I might not be a lesbian, but I sure must be bi-curious because I was definitely attracted to this woman. Attracted to her in a confusing, absolutely inexplicable way. Never had my body responded like this before. I had goose pimples all over, my heart was pounding in my chest, and I felt a little lightheaded. I yanked my hand from her grip, confused, ashamed, embarrassed. What was wrong with me? I couldn't meet her gaze so I just slid behind the wheel of my car and drove off. I had a lot to think about. * As was my childhood practice, whenever I have something difficult to deal with, I just avoid it. I decided to visit a different gas station for the next few days. I had to take some time off. I'd never wanted a woman to just throw me down and take me in every way possible before. But that's what I'd been thinking when I'd masturbated that night. Pasadena Williams. Dee. Jesus, I had the hots for this woman in the worst way. Better to stay away, lest I make a complete ass out of myself...as if I hadn't already. When I arrived at work the next day, Michael seemed more devastated about the condition of my car than I was. He had someone from his Mercedes service center come over to assess at the damage. I needed a new bumper, a rear panel had to be replaced and, of course, it needed to be painted. Estimated cost? $1,750. No vacation for me this year for sure. The Mercedes rep said he could give me a loaner and would have my car fixed in two days. When Michael asked me about insurance I told him what I'd said to the woman and he looked at me as if my IQ had dropped 70 points. When he suggested I tell the insurance company it was a hit and run, and I said I couldn't because that was insurance fraud, he just shook his head. For the rest of the day, whenever he saw me, he just shook his head. I silently wished his head would explode at least five times that day. The rest of my weak went as smoothly. I botched an assignment I had been working on for weeks, the receptionist's computer crashed so we all had to pitch in and answer phones, and I lost my purse (it turns out I had neglected to remove it from my car; thank goodness no one stole it). And every night, after driving an hour and a half to get home, I tossed and turned, dreaming of a tall, muscular woman with caramel colored skin, cornrows and intense, chestnut brown eyes. After more than a week of this, I gave up. I decided that I needed to figure out what was going on with me instead of running from the problem. I would ask her out on a date. I swallowed past the lump in my throat. I had never asked anyone out on a date, men always approached me first. The fear of rejection made my palms sweat. But if I wanted to figure out what was going on I had to do this. I had to talk to her, had to spend time with her. Had to...I don't know what else I had to do but I had to do something. So I dressed for the occasion in blue jeans, a black tee shirt, old sneakers and a Philly's baseball cap, worn backwards. It was Saturday, I had no idea if she would even be at the garage. I drove the 50 minutes it took to get there and then pulled off into a parking lot about a mile away from my destination. I needed to figure out a plan of action. If she wasn't there? Well, then I would just pay for my gas and be on my way. Or maybe I would leave a note for her. If any of my pals were there, I would tell them I was working today. If she was there but she was too busy to talk? Well...I would probably leave my phone number for her. I closed my eyes at the thought. She probably wouldn't call. I didn't even know what kind of women she was attracted to. What if 'pleasantly plump' wasn't her style? What if—I cut myself off, realizing if I kept going I would turn around and drive home. Okay, the final scenario? What if she was there and actually had a minute to talk? Well, then I would take a deep breath and ask her if she wanted to come over to my house for dinner. No, no, I should ask her out for dinner, my house was too much too fast, right? I mean, she could be a serial killer or something. But I would be more comfortable at home and I was a pretty decent cook, so shouldn't I aim for comfort on my own turf? I took a deep breath, wondering if I would even go through with it. I really, really wanted to turn around and drive home. Okay, okay, I told myself, if I could get through seven years with Michael, I could probably get through anything. Besides, I was a relatively attractive woman. I had my fair share of admirers. What's the worse that could happen? She'd say no? Then I would just find a new gas station and move on with life. No harm, no foul. Another deep breath and I felt brave enough to drive to the gas station. I didn't pull up to a pump, parking in front of the tiny office instead. No one was inside and I was relieved for just a moment. All of that preparation for naught. I was no longer facing immediate rejection. Whew! Well, the relief was short lived. I was writing my name and phone number on a piece of paper in the office, prepared to leave it on the desk, when I saw her out of the corner of my eye. She was examining the rear of my convertible. I slipped the paper into my pocket, squared my shoulders, and made my way back out to my car. She was kneeling down, examining the repairs closely. "Not bad. How much?" I hadn't been thinking about that information so I was back to stuttering, "uh, around, uh, a thousand, no, it was, uh, ummm, actually it was around seven-seventeen hundred I think." I rolled my eyes at myself. God, I was a bumbling idiot. She sucked her teeth, "my friend would have fixed it for half." Texas Heat When she stood, I couldn't help but admire those thighs. They were covered in loose fitting blue overalls, but I could still make out the rippling corded muscles beneath the thin material. I felt flushed suddenly and was, once again, thankful that my skin was dark enough that she could not see the color rise to my cheeks. She leaned against my car, one leg crossed over the other, and just watched me. I swallowed, trying to gather up my nerve. "Need something, Princess?" I frowned, "I thought I asked you not to call me that?" "My bad. Evelyn, right?" She smirked. I nodded, "Evy." "I like Evelyn." I swallowed again. She had taken the time to contemplate something she liked about me? That was inspiring. "Look, uh—, okay, well, look, I, uh, I n-never—" She was still watching me and I couldn't get the words out. I just couldn't. I sighed and was about to crawl back into my car in defeat and just take off when she finally took pity on me and took the reigns. "So you decided to take a shot, Princess?" I ignored the annoying nickname. "What do you mean?" I couldn't have been that transparent, could I? She stood to her full height and moved toward me until there was only an inch or two between us. She looked me directly in the eye and before I knew it her lips were on mine. It was just a taste. Just a soft, tantalizing taste that went right through me. I closed my eyes automatically and when I opened them she was watching me closely. I could feel my body thrumming. "What time should I pick you up, Princess?" She asked huskily. "Seven." I finally managed to get out. She nodded and I watched her walk away. Moments later I was on my way home, feeling flushed, a little dizzy, and absolutely terrified. Why had I believed asking her out was going to be the most difficult part? I've never been on a date with a woman! How did it work? Did I have to do the salad thing, like guys expected? Who paid for dinner? I shook my head. Why were all these idiotic thoughts going through my head? I just needed to relax. No, actually, what I needed was to call Zenobia, my old college friend who had been gay since before she was born. I hadn't spoken with her in a few months, but she should be an expert at this gay thing by now. I laughed at the thought. I was still smiling when I pulled into my driveway and then it occurred to me – I had not given Dee my address! * A few hours later I was as close to sane as possible. Zeny was thrilled to hear from me, laughed hysterically as I filled her in, and then told me to relax. She told me to just be myself, expect to pay my half of the bill, and just pretend I was hanging out with a new friend. She said thoughts of kisses and other things just made the evening more stressful. If only I could explain to her that I could not possibly get this woman out of my blood, not after that kiss. Still, I felt better after chatting with her. And she reminded me that Dee had my address since she'd fixed my Mercedes. So I bathed, perfumed, and then dressed carefully. I opted for dressy casual with no make-up. I had on black penny loafers, blue jeans and a black double breasted jacket. The jacket fit well enough for me to skip wearing a blouse beneath it, so I settled on a black teddy instead. I both admired and hated my full figure in the mirror as I counted the minutes to her arrival. It was 6:50. She would be here any minute. Sure enough, at 6:57, the doorbell rang. I guess she had managed to find my address in her computer after all. I hurried down the stairs, took a deep breath, and then opened the door. I was glad I dressed casually because she wore Timberland boots, black jeans, a black wife beater and a burgundy sports coat. I wish I could say she was unimpressive, but that would've been a lie. The form fitting jeans teased me with images of her thighs, the wife beater offered glimpses of her flat tummy, and the burgundy jacket couldn't hide the muscles in her arms if it tried. So for me, she was a feast for the eyes. She raised a brow when my eyes finally met hers and I grew flush again. I had been ogling her on my doorstep, what kind of horny pervert was I? "Sorry. Do you want to come in for sex—uh, I meant, umm, uh, d-do you want to come in for a sec? That's what I meant. Sorry." Her smirk was back and I kicked myself mentally. Sheesh. "Let's get something to eat Princess, I'm hungry." The nickname was growing on me, I don't know why. Something about how she said it. It wasn't as much of an insult as when she'd said it that first day. I grabbed my purse from a table near the front door and followed her to an old, relatively beat up Honda. The same one Juan had used to drive me to Starbucks that day. "This is your car? I thought it was Juan's." The car was so old there were only lap belts. I strapped mine on and watched her fold herself behind the steering wheel. "My father gave this car to me for my 20th birthday." I realized that would have been just before her parents died, according to the newspaper article. I was silent, suddenly understanding why she hadn't junked the car. "It runs smoothly." I offered after I could think of nothing else to say. "I rebuilt the engine again last year." I nodded but remained silent. Sometimes she had nothing but strength and cockiness exuding from her and other times there seemed to be a dark cloud hovering around her. She was certainly a mystery. "The guys are all relieved you're gay. They thought they were losing their touch." I glanced at her in surprise and realized she was teasing me. I smiled just a little. "I'm not." I said without thinking. "You're not what?" Well, no way out now, "gay." She glanced at me for a minute, the smirk returning, "really?" Okay, that probably sounded idiotic. "I mean, uh, I've never—, I mean, I've never even b-been with—" She laughed. A full blown, hearty laugh in that deep husky voice of hers. It was fucking sexy as all hell, even if I was embarrassed at what I had just shared. "I like that." I could have kicked myself when I just blurted that out. She looked at me again. "What?" I shrugged, but I could still feel her gaze shifting from the road to me, back and forth. She wasn't letting it drop. "Your laugh." There, I said it. God, I'm a jackass. I clearly have no social skills whatsoever. She looked at me for a long moment and then continued to drive. I was relieved she didn't say anything that would make me feel worse than I already did. I looked out of the window, realizing I had no idea where we were going. She clearly knew her way around the Poconos. "Why did your parents name you Pasadena?" She glanced at me quickly again before shrugging, "the story is I was born in Pasadena, Texas two months early and near death while my parents were visiting my grandparents. So my mother named me Pasadena." "I thought your family was from New York." She glanced at me and I winced. How would you know that Evy, I asked myself on her behalf. I really am an idiot. "You saw that article?" She asked. "Yea, sorry. I Googled you." She looked at me again and raised a brow, "why?" I shrugged again, "curious I guess." She smirked and went back to her driving. "My family is from New York on my mother's side." "Oh." Another moment of silence as she turned onto a very dark road. "So, what else did you read?" I was embarrassed yet again. It felt like I'd invaded her privacy. I tried to make light of it. "Oh, you're 42, you own 4 gas stations, you're single and you're a millionaire." "Is that why you wanted to go out with me?" The question caught me so off guard I responded from the heart, "God no, I was attracted to you before I read that." I couldn't believe I had let those words slip from between my lips. Could I embarrass myself any more than I already had? "Good." I glanced at her when she said it, but she was now watching the road. A few minutes later, out of nowhere, a brightly lit building appeared. It was shaped like a barn and there were lights all around it. I hadn't heard of this place so I wondered how she had. A parking attendant opened my door and she handed him the keys. The lobby was filled with people waiting to be seated. I sighed, realizing I was a little hungry and not in the mood to wait. I looked around, a little uncomfortable as I realized Dee and I were the only blacks in the place and the only people wearing jeans. Some people looked down their noses at us and I suddenly wanted to dine elsewhere. "Dee!" I turned as an oversized man pulled Dee to him, hugging tightly. For the first time I saw what looked like embarrassment on her face. "Bob, put me down." The big guy let her go but tossed an arm around her shoulders. I realized how tall he was then, probably 6'4" or 6'5". He had a very warm smile on his face and his blue eyes seemed to have misted up. "God girl, how long has it been?" Her face wasn't dark enough to hide the blush entirely. "Too long. Sorry." "Hey, no prob. I didn't take it personally, memories and all that shit. You got reservations?" "Nah. If you don't have a table—" "Girl, don't make me hurt you. Bring your ass over here!" There didn't seem to be an empty table in the place, but miraculously one materialized and was set immediately. We were sitting down when a waiter brought over a bottle of wine. "One of my best. On the house, as is dinner. Don't leave without a goodbye." And he was gone, just like that. I was watching Dee. She seemed uncomfortable. "A friend of my father's. He looked after me right after they were killed and I haven't been by to see him in a while." I nodded, "oh." We studied the menu in silence. The selection was overwhelming. I think Dee noticed my frustration. "Why don't I order for us?" "Thanks," I quickly agreed. As soon as she put her menu down, a waiter appeared at her elbow. She ordered stakes, cooked medium well, with baked potatoes and side salads. A simple meat and potatoes dish. There was plenty of opportunity to grand stand on the menu, but she didn't. That allowed me to relax just a bit more. Once he took the order, and topped off my wine glass, the waiter melted back into the chaos. "Popular place." Dee looked around, "yea, my parents and I used to come here all the time." "Were you an only child?" She nodded. "My Dad loaned Bob the money to start this place." I looked around with her, "well, it was a good investment." "Bob gave him 48% of the restaurant instead of paying back the loan." That took a moment to register, "so you own 48% of this restaurant?" She shrugged and I guessed that was a yes. I was surprised she seemed so embarrassed. "The article said your father owned a chain of gas stations?" "He sold them when I was 7. Said he wanted to spend more time with me," she paused, seemed to swallow down something, "he kept the first station he'd ever owned. That's the one I inherited. I branched out when a friend of the family was almost bankrupt. I bought his 3 stations to help him out. His son manages them." I asked her a few more questions about her past before allowing her to change the subject. We talked for hours, eating wonderfully tender steaks and enjoying the delicious chocolate mousse cake and coffee that followed. We had both relaxed quite a bit by then. The two bottles of wine probably helped. I was more than just a little tipsy and worried about Dee driving, but she seemed fine. I would admit the next morning, when I woke up with a hang over, that I probably had most of the wine anyway. When we were just about ready to leave, Bob appeared out of no where, snatched her up in his arms again, gave her a bear hug, and then made her promise to stop by more often. I was smiling when we left the restaurant. I'd had a great time. We didn't say much on the way home and I could feel myself getting sleepy. When she parked in front of my house, I reached for the handle to let myself out, but she stopped me. She turned me to her and I sank into the warmth of those dark, chestnut eyes. Before I could think, she tossed out a husky "may I?" and then she was kissing me. This wasn't like the quick kiss at the gas station. No. This one was different. Sweet. Warm. Tender. Coaxing. I felt her lick at my bottom lip and a soft moan escaped from me as she deepened the kiss just a little. My head was buzzing and my body was vibrating from the feel of her. I could feel my hard nipples brushing against the soft satin of my bra and I shifted a bit uncomfortably as my nether lips swelled. She ended the kiss suddenly and I felt a rush of cold air as she moved away. My breathing was ragged at best and it took me a moment to grab hold of the car door handle again. "Goodnight, Princess." She murmured teasingly in that deep voice of hers. I smiled and unsteadily made my way to my porch. I heard the car pull off as I closed the front door behind me. * Even though I was hung over, I was on cloud nine the next morning. The day seemed brighter, the birds less annoying, the air crisper. I went about doing laundry and puttering about the house, trying to keep myself busy as I waited to hear from her. I wanted to hear her deep, husky voice. I wanted her to make me smile and laugh like she did the night before. I wanted to remember that kiss while I enjoyed the sound of her. But I didn't hear from her that day. I didn't panic, it's pretty normal for a person not to call right away. She might not want me to think she was desperate or anything. So, I went grocery shopping and talked on the phone with some friends, trying not to 'wait' for her call. But I didn't hear from her that day or the next, or the next. She wasn't at the garage when I stopped there for gas on Monday or any day that week. She didn't respond to the message I left for her...and suddenly I went from cloud nine to feeling crushed. I thought we'd had a great time. I thought there was something between us. Clearly I was mistaken. After the first week without word from her, I went into nothing short of a depression. Even Michael stopped focusing on himself long enough to worry. I wasn't eating, I forgot assignments, I arrived to work late almost every day...it was really fucking with me. I stopped by the gas station at different times during the day and on weekends, but Dee was no where to be found. I called Zeny crying, as well as a number of other friends (most of whom were shocked I'd dated a woman), and everyone pretty much said the same thing...fuck her. Easier said than done. I wish I could just write her off. I wish I could get myself to visit another gas station...but it took me a few weeks to actually do something about it. I didn't stop buying gas at her station, if for no other reason than the fact that I liked my gas station pals. They made me smile every morning and that was worth something. Besides, she was clearly avoiding me so I had no reason to worry about bumping into her. I also started focusing on work again, eating regularly, and taking advantage of the weight loss by going to the gym and working out. I went shopping, I went to visit old friends...I decided to pick myself up. If Dee didn't want to see me, fine by me. There were other fish in the sea. And perhaps I wasn't a lesbian any way. Why would I want to be one when women seemed to treat me worse than men? So, of course, following that logic, I started dating again. It was at this time that I met Bruce. Bruce was sweet. Also an Executive Assistant, but for a firm on Wall Street, he made 3 times my salary. He was white (why not bend the rules?), a little pudgy, with intense blue eyes and a sweet personality. He had been classically trained in music, the violin, at Oberlin. And he made me feel just wonderful. We met through a mutual friend, had dinner one night, and then decided after a few more dates to embark on a full-fledged romance. And he was good at romancing. He called often to inquire about me, sent me flowers, and introduced me to the world of classical music. It seemed to be a good fit...and he was quite the kisser. And I was smiling again. It had been three months since I'd last seen Dee, and I cared a little less every day. I had to agree with my friends that if she didn't see the value in me, forget her. I was worth more than that. After all, why would someone as sweet as Bruce want to spend time with me if I wasn't worth something, right? I didn't usually define myself through the eyes of others, but I could see that there was something to the logic in this case. So Bruce and I spent more and more time together. And after dating for well over a month, he finally asked me to spend the night. I agreed. We shared a very nice wine, he played the violin for me, we watched a cute little romance on television, and then he finally made his move. I responded to the kisses as they grew more passionate. I didn't feel the same zing that I felt when Dee kissed me, but I liked Bruce and it was sweet. Finally he took my hand and led me to his bedroom. No rockets, but again, it was sweet. He was not very experienced, but that was okay. All in all, I felt pretty good about us. I knew Bruce and I were headed in the direction of a serious relationship and I felt pretty prepared for it. * Michael bitched and moaned all the way from New York after our meeting with the Board of Directors. The meeting had not gone well and, of course, Michael was to blame. As President, what did he expect? I mean, why else was he paid six figures? Anyway, I had a terrible headache, the traffic was a nightmare, I was planning to see Bruce that evening but had already called to cancel. And now if I could just get my boss to shut up... He had me drop him off at home while giving me tons of instructions on all the work he wanted me to finish before I left the office. I was annoyed, having hoped he would let me leave early, but drove to the office and dove in anyway. By the time I left it was 7pm, my head was killing me, my stomach was growling, and all I could think of was a nice hot shower and my very comfy bed. When the light on my dash lit up declaring I was almost out of gas, I groaned. I mean, what else could happen? None of my buddies would be at the gas station and surely that would annoy the hell out of me. Still, I would never make it home, so I had to stop. I was on the phone with Bruce, begging off of our standing Saturday date, realizing that I just needed some "me" time, when I arrived at the gas station. I simply handed my card to the attendant, not bothering to look up. Bruce wanted to know how I could decide on Wednesday that I would be exhausted on Saturday night. He did whine sometimes. And I really wasn't in the mood for it today. It took me a moment to realize my credit card was still in my hand. The attendant had not taken it. I turned to look up, annoyed beyond belief and wondering how idiotic a person could be...and yea, my brain shut down again. She seemed to simply have that affect on me. "Evy? Evy, are you still there?" "Uh...yea...uh...Bruce...uh...let me call you back, okay?" I hung up, not bothering to wait for an answer. My heart was thudding in my chest suddenly, my headache forgotten. Pasadena Williams. She was still alive after all. She finally took the card from me and started the pump. She had the nerve to look great, black muscle-shirt under a denim jacket, jeans painted on over those sculpted thighs, terribly scuffed work boots...our eyes met again after she finished fiddling with the pump and I could feel myself falling into those rich chestnut pools. I'd missed her plain face, the caramel color of her skin, the narrow nose with an odd bump on the ridge. I think she told me over dinner that she'd broken it on the jungle gym in middle school. Her hair was still braided back into cornrows and the entire package was still...mind-numbing. Texas Heat And then the anger started to bubble up from a place deep inside of me. The horror of her rejection...the pain of it. I turned away from her, ignoring her as the pump filled my tank. I was angry. Very, very angry...and hurt. How could she have just disappeared like that? She didn't say a word, just topped off my tank, ran the card at the pump (they had finally updated the machines), and handed the card back to me. Seconds later she was headed in the direction of that dingy little office where I'd first met her. I turned the key, gunned the engine and was just about to drive off when something stopped me. I don't know what it was. I guess I just felt like she owed me an explanation or something. I mean, wasn't I entitled to one? So I pulled up in front of that tiny office, slammed my car door and stormed inside. The office door closed behind me. She was already on the phone and simply glanced over at me while continuing her conversation. I waited...waited...and then proceeded to walk over to her desk and press whatever button was closest to me. It had the effect I wanted, it ended her phone call. She simply raised a brow as she replaced the receiver. After a minute or so more of simply staring at each other, I lost it. "What the hell is the matter with you?!" She didn't say anything, just sat back in the chair and looked at me. "You can't just disappear like that! I mean, were you raised in a cave? That was the rudest thing anyone has ever done to me! You didn't have the decency to call and tell me to fuck off?! Wasn't I entitled to at least that?! I mean, how dare you!" "Easy, Princess." Her deep voice washed over me and as pleasant as it was her words only fueled the fire. "Fuck you, Dee." I spat the words...and then decided it wasn't worth it. I didn't need this drama. I was seeing a nice man, my life was back on track...forget this. I turned and left the office, pressing the button on my key chain to unlock the car door and walking around to the driver's side of my Mercedes. I opened my car door and slid behind the wheel. I had said my peace and I was done. I turned the key and pulled off. I fumed for a while and then I called Bruce back. I let him talk me into lunch on Saturday. I decided I needed the company of a sane person. Why not let the man I was dating soothe me? My headache was back by the time I reached my house, which was just perfect. I said goodnight to Bruce, swallowed a few pills, took a long, leisurely, pampering shower, devoured two cups of yogurt and then crawled beneath my comforter. It was January and had snowed recently. The house was still chilly, considering I turned the thermostat down to 55 when I left for work in the mornings, so it felt great to be snuggled up under the goose filled comforter. I opted not to switch on the television and just closed my eyes, trying to relax. And relax I did...at least for a while. And then my thoughts betrayed me and I couldn't get her out of my mind. Her face, her voice, her body...every aspect of her had been re-imprinted on my brain in the few minutes I'd spent with her. And much to my dismay, I could now admit that I had been attracted to her, totally enthralled and aroused by her. And certainly in a way that I was not with Bruce. But it pissed me off and I was so frustrated with myself. I was my own worse enemy. Damnit. Damn her. She couldn't just disappear and then reappear as if nothing had changed. As if I had not felt like...shit when she never called. I mean, how dare she. And yet, I could not get her off my mind. She looked great. I felt very much the same way I'd felt when I first saw her. Except now, I could also feel her lips on mine, tasting, teasing...gently demanding. There was something magnetic about the woman. But I was not going to be a fool twice when it came to her. I would have to find a new gas station now that she had returned. It was for the best. When the doorbell rang, I was surprised. No one really visited me and the last person who had done so was selling Girl Scout cookies. I glanced at the clock beside the bed. It was after 11, no one was selling cookies at this time of night. I was tempted to just pretend I was not home. My garage did not have any windows facing the front of the house, so the person at the door could not tell if I was home or not. But what if it was someone whose car had broken down and they needed to use the phone? And what if no one else had opened their door for this person? I sighed, grabbing a robe on my way down the stairs. When I glanced through the peephole, I was shocked. And then I wished I had stayed in bed and ignored the bell. I sighed. What the hell was she doing here? I thought for a moment about just going back up stairs. So what if she'd seen the lights come on. So what if she thought I was rude. I couldn't be any ruder than she'd been. I sighed again, pulling the robe tighter around me before opening the door. We just stared at each other for a few moments...a few very long minutes...until she suddenly moved into me, backing me up and kicking the door close behind her. Her mouth was on mine, searing, insistent...and my blood was instantly boiling. I couldn't think. Not with her this close, her mouth doing things to me...I tried to put some space between us, but she followed me as I moved backwards until I was pressed against one of the cool walls of the house. My house. And now this woman was here, invading, demanding...hungry. I wanted to refuse her, but I knew I wouldn't...I couldn't. Her hands were all over me, untying my robe, exploring my curves. Her mouth wouldn't stop, wouldn't let me think...I was responding to her. I knew it...and I loved it. My skin itched, craving her touch, wanting more. I'm not sure when she removed my robe, I only know it was pooled at my feet and her fingers were quickly unbuttoning my top. When she bent her head to taste of my flesh, my neck, my collar bone, I just closed my eyes and relished the sensations coursing through me. They were wonderfully molten...intense. No one had made me feel this way before. Feel desperate to have her against me, within me. I wanted more...I needed more. Her hands were around my waist, pulling me closer to her as her mouth found a hardened nipple. I groaned. It came from deep within me. Her mouth was doing things to me...I could barely remember to breathe. Her hands moved lower, caressing my hips, burning a path lower. Somewhere inside me I thought I should stop her when I felt my pajama bottoms being eased down. I wasn't a slut, so why was I behaving so wantonly? So desperately? But I didn't stop her. I didn't want to. She made me feel beautiful...alive...desired. I never wanted her to stop. My bottoms were around my ankles and she was kneeling before me. With ease she hoisted one of my legs over her shoulder. She kissed my rounded tummy, lapped at my navel...and then sank into my center. I believe time did stop for a moment. I had never felt anything so...wickedly delicious. I don't think my body knew how to respond to the heat of her mouth, that clever tongue. I was tense, my shoulders hurting from anxiety and anticipation. She was good...so very good. She knew...knew my body, knew what to do. And within moments I was clinging to her shoulders, my nails digging into her flesh, as an orgasm swept through me fiercely...sweetly. She was relentless, ignoring my half-hearted protests as I softly begged her to let me catch my breath. Within moments I was in the powerful grip of another brutal orgasm...and then another. My knees buckled then and I sank to the floor. She inched up my body, her tongue creating more havoc, delicious havoc, as she moved upward. Then she was kissing me again and I tasted myself on her, musky, womanly...nice. She pulled me close and simply ravished my mouth, teasing, tasting, nibbling. It was wonderful. Absolutely wonderful. We lay there for some time, her holding me, caressing me, casually stoking the fire that still burned inside of me. But I could feel myself pulling away from her...first emotionally and then physically. I was on my feet suddenly, dressing, pulling the robe around me tightly. I had my back to her, trying to catch my breath...trying to think. I couldn't. I just couldn't with her this close. When I turned back to her, she was on her feet, leaning against a wall, waiting. She, too, seemed to have withdrawn back into her shell. I wasn't sure what I wanted from her, what I needed...but it wasn't just sex. The sex had been great...but I wanted more. And her disappearing act suggested she was incapable of giving me that. "I have to get up early." I said finally. It was a chicken shit way out, but I still took it. She raised a brow, knowing I was dismissing her. I wanted her to insist on staying, to demand we talk, to react in some way. Instead she made her way to the door and let herself out. I listened as the sound of her engine faded into nothingness. I wondered what I had done, why I had allowed it to happen, what I was going to say to Bruce. I wondered why she had left, why she hadn't simply taken me in her arms again and dragged me upstairs. I wondered...and wondered...and wondered. I didn't sleep a wink all night. * I didn't need to stop for gas in the morning, thank goodness. And my day? It passed by in a blur. I wanted to take the time to process what had happened and why I let it happen, but I really was too busy. So I gave myself permission not to think about what had happened...and I gave myself permission to avoid Bruce. What would I say to him? I had surely cheated. I mean, we weren't married, but we were clearly "seeing each other" and I doubt that included sex with other people, especially women. I stopped at a different gas station on the way home, admitting that while I wanted to see her, I was terrified she might have disappeared again. The house was chilly when I arrived so I cranked up the heat, ate a frozen entrée, took a long, hot shower and then crawled into bed to watch a little TV. It was after 9 when I finally turned the television off and compelled myself not to wait for the sound of the doorbell, not to hope, not to pray. Yet, I could feel myself doing it. It was pathetic. She wouldn't be back. It was probably a one night stand for her. She was probably off to where ever she'd gone before. I was such an idiot. So imagine my surprise when the doorbell rang. I lay there, convincing myself it was my imagination. I was so desperate I had willed the damn thing to ring. But it rang again and then again. I didn't bother with a robe this time, the long, heavy night shirt covered enough. Sure enough, when I opened the door, there she stood, leaning against the doorjamb, another wife beater, white this time, revealing her taut, flat stomach and small breasts. That rich caramel face, wide and flat, and those dark eyes, staring at me. I wanted to demand that we talk, I wanted to tell her to leave, but I didn't do either. Instead, I simply walked up to her and lifted my lips to hers for a kiss. And kiss me she did. Deeply, potently, erotically. She left my body trembling. She backed me up again, closing the door behind her as she'd done the night before. This time she took my hand and headed up to the bedroom. Once inside, she pulled me to her and kissed me again. I didn't resist. I didn't want to. She made me feel so good. I let her kiss me over and over again, pulling me closer, caressing my entire body. She seemed as hungry as I was, as insatiable. It was wonderful and my head was reeling. Her kisses and caresses lasted an eternity...and then, after my body was throbbing with the most delicious sensations, I simply let her devour me. I didn't have to ask her to leave that night. After holding me for some time, she stood, dressed and left without a word. In fact, she hadn't said anything to me other than "easy Princess" in two days. I was confused. Well, that was putting it mildly. I was completely baffled. I wasn't sure what I was doing, why I was doing it, and what I expected. I only knew that when I was with her, I felt...well, I'm not sure what I felt. I only know I hadn't felt it before, and I certainly didn't feel it when I was with Bruce. Bruce. Ugh. Talk about a bucket of ice-cold water thrown on me. What was I going to say to him? I wasn't even sure what to say to myself. Should I continue to see him? Was this sexual encounter enough of a reason to risk my relationship with him? He was decent and sweet and kind. She was withdrawn and strange. Was the chemistry between me and Dee really that important? I decided to give myself a break and try to get some sleep before morning. * On my way home from work the next day, Friday, I stopped at the gas station. I had to. I needed some answers. I needed help figuring out what was going on. I hadn't talked to any of my friends about it, mostly because I felt like a slut. I mean this woman disappeared after our first date, I hadn't seen her in almost four months, and she shows up at my house and I sleep with her? Twice? I mean...what kind of woman was I? And how would I explain it to my friends after they were all so supportive of me forgetting about her? None of my morning pals were at the station, but that was not surprising. I was more annoyed that I didn't see Pasadena there either. Someone approached me, took my card and pumped the gas. I decided to walk to the tiny little office to see if I could find her. She was there, sitting behind her desk, her feet up, on the phone. She looked annoyed when I walked in, but when she realized who it was she simply raised a brow and smiled. I mean, she really smiled. It was...transforming. It was...touching. It was...magic. I don't think I'd ever seen her smile before. A smirk, yes. A smile? Not really. And so I did the only thing I could do, I smiled back. She managed to get off the phone quickly and then stood to make her way over to me. Her lips were on mine before I could formulate a sentence. And of course the heat she generated within me erased everything I'd plan to say. I simply gave in to the kiss, enjoying the feel of her against me, the possessiveness of her hands at my waist, pulling me closer. She was so strong, so persuasive, so...worthy. I knew it at that moment. She could have me if she wanted me. I would not resist her. The question was...did she want me? But I wasn't strong enough to ask that question just yet. So, when she ended the kiss and brushed a strand of hair from my forehead, I asked the only question that came to mind. "Are you coming by tonight?" She smirked a bit and nodded. I leaned in for another one of her intoxicating kisses and then I left. I berated myself all the way home, but then decided it was not worth it. What was the point? Clearly there was something between the two of us and I obviously wanted to figure out what it was. I had no idea how much time I had with her before she got spooked again, and so I think I decided to just enjoy being with her. Something told me that by the time I figured out how I felt and what I wanted, she would be gone again anyway. Having found some way of living with myself, I called Zeny. She had been the most understanding and the most supportive through the ordeal with Dee. But when I finished telling her what was going on, she was silent. She was silent for so long it unnerved me. "Zeny! What?" "Evy, are you nuts? Why would you get involved with her again? You were devastated after one date before. How can you convince yourself you'll be able to handle it when she disappears again?" "Maybe she won't this time." I felt stupid even saying it. Is that what I was hoping for? "Evy...she lost her parents. Clearly she's got some scars. She's not safe. She could really hurt you." "But—" "Look, I'm all for spontaneous, happy-go-lucky sex, okay? But that's not what you're looking for. You're looking for someone to love you. I'm not sure she's that person." "But—" "Evy, I'm just sayin'...I think you should get out. Get out now before you can't. You have to end it with her. Call her and tell her not to come. Call Bruce and tell him what's been going on or don't, but focus your energy there. Don't do this to yourself." "But—" I didn't have anything to say. No counter-argument, no persuasive, brilliant come backs, nothing compelling to share...she was right. I knew she was right. I just didn't want to hear it, didn't want to deal with it. I knew Dee was going through something...had been going through something for years. Fear of relationships? Fear of getting close? Abandonment issues? Fear of love? I didn't know what it was, but she was a runner. And there was no reason to believe she was not going to run this time. "You still there, Sweetie?" I tuned back into the voice of reason on the phone, trying not to resent the hell out of her. "Yea." I could hear the defeat in my own voice. "Evy, you have to do this. You have to take care of yourself. She's no good for you. Not now. Maybe not ever." I tried to swallow past the tears rising in my throat but it didn't work. "Yea, I know. Thanks Zeny. I better go." I hung up before she could say anything else. I hadn't wanted to hear this. I wanted support for my idiocy. I wanted someone to believe in the impossible. And yet, I had called Zeny for a reason. Maybe I called her because I knew what she would say. I needed to get hold of my hormones and set my life back on track again. I couldn't do that with Pasadena. No matter how titillatingly sexy she was and no matter how great she made me feel, she would hurt me. It was inevitable. I didn't know what else to do besides wait for her to show up. It was almost 10 when she finally arrived. Maybe when she saw my face after I opened the door she knew, I'm not sure. But her smile faded pretty quickly and something else about her, maybe the light in her eyes I'd seen earlier that day, died. Still, she came in when I stepped back and she pulled me to her right away. She didn't kiss me this time, she just held on. Held me close. Held me tight. I could feel the tears bubbling up again and I tried really hard to hold them at bay. Some escaped and she kissed them from my cheeks. I led the way to the bedroom this time and when she pressed her lips to mine, it was my fingers that desperately removed her clothing. I wanted to see her, wanted to taste her, wanted to enjoy her. She let me undress her, allowed me to kiss every inch of her delectably muscled flesh, smirked as I took a nipple between my lips and sucked. I'm sure she wanted me to think she was not affected by my touch, but I knew. I could feel her body tense, could hear the shift in her breathing. As I made my way down to her flat, taut stomach, I could hear the slight catch in her throat. I tugged the form-fitting jeans from her, pushing her back onto the bed and settling myself between those amazingly sculpted thighs. She let me taste her, coaxing her body into a state of arousal for a spell. But then I felt those strong fingers digging into my upper arms as she pulled me up to lay against the length of her. Her fingers went to work, caressing, teasing, tormenting. I was writhing against her within minutes, desperate for the feel of her mouth on me. When she lowered her head to my hardened nipple, I knew I would not last much longer. Her fingers parted my engorged nether lips, delving in, creating a state of painful arousal until I exploded in her hand, biting my lip to hold back the scream that wanted to escape. She didn't stop there, licking, nibbling, driving me into a state of pure and utter sexual anguish. When she lowered her head to drink from my center, I thought I would come unglued. I'm not sure how long she kept me there, a prisoner to her lips, her fingers, her skillful tongue, I only know it seemed I would be forever changed when she finally let me settle down beside her to sleep. Texas Heat I only managed to sleep for a little while and I was glad she stayed with me, holding me close. I willed myself to be strong. This was a toxic relationship, I knew that. It would go no where fast. I knew that too. I had to let it go. Bruce was a much better choice for me. When I finally stirred up enough courage to say something to her, she shifted away from me, stood, and began to dress. I swallowed a few times. "I can't see you anymore," I croaked out. She looked at me as she pulled on her jeans. "Yea, I kinda figured." "It's just that—" "It's okay Evelyn. I fucked up." I felt something welling up inside of me and I was trying desperately not to cry in front of her. It wasn't working. "Dee—" She silenced me with a look. Then I watched as she approached the bed and leaned down to kiss my forehead, holding my face gently between those calloused hands of hers. She just stared at me for a moment. Then she closed her eyes briefly before focusing those intense dark eyes on me again. "I want you to be happy Evelyn. You deserve that. And I'm not sure I'm the person that can give you that. So I get it, okay?" I nodded and she wiped the tears from my cheeks, staring at me for a moment longer before leaning in to kiss my forehead again. "Goodnight, Princess," she whispered in that deep, sexy voice of hers. Then she was gone. I married Bruce six months later. Texas Heat It was one of those moments when you curse your job and your luck. Sure in life there were many such times but up until this moment Shelly hadn't really come across them much. Cute and petite she was the one people equated to dynamite. She was perky and energetic, always the one to have that winning idea and the gumption to carry it through. At twenty seven she had risen through the ranks of her company fairly quickly. A born people person she had the knack for reading people and knowing just what sort of product they needed. This facilitated her rise through the ranks of other sales people while maintaining a good natured rapport with coworkers. However, it was on a business trip that her luck took a sudden turn for the worse. Insisting on driving through the vast empty spaces of west Texas was probably her first mistake. How was she to know that even on immensely long stretches of highway you could still get lost? Flat landscapes look all the same no matter how you turn. To add insult to injury her rental car decided to break a leg and give up the ghost at the same time. A flat directed her to the side of the road where habit led her to turn off the car. Getting out and checking for a spare led to yet another indication that luck had turned it's back on her... no spare. Standing there along a deserted looking stretch of road, no town in sight, no other car in sight she cursed and kicked at the ground with high heeled pumps. The sun beamed down upon black tar highway as it always did in Texas... hotly. She soon was shrugging out of pale blue dress suit jacket and tossing it into the back seat while she sat in the driver's seat contemplating. A turn of the key had left her with the knowledge that the car had become a complete turncoat. One hand lifted up the mass of dark red curls while the other held a client folder to fan pale skin under the lacey camisole blouse she wore. Afternoon was slipping into evening though the heat didn't seem to notice. At one point a car happened down the lonely stretch of road only to pass her by without a care. She gave no thought to the dangers of being alone, female, and stranded. All she cared about was getting to the nearest town since out in the middle of no where, cell phones take a vacation. An hour or so after her only sighting of what could have been a human behind the wheel of that lone car she heard the approach of another. Getting out of her dead shell of a vehicle she stood by the road and waved until the beat up old farm truck rolled to a slow stop. Dangers? She wouldn't let herself dwell on those despite her run of terrible luck. The truck halted behind her dead car and she stood patiently while long lanky expanses of jean covered legs and booted feet appeared to climb out of the cab. Plaid red shirt, mostly unbuttoned revealed to her what she could have pictured to be a romance novel fantasy "cowboy" or "farm hand". Chiseled chest devoid of hair, deeply tanned skin, just a hint of shimmer of sweat... she could hardly remove her eyes. "Howdy M'am." her reverie was broken and her attention jerked up to his face. It was equally nice to look at. A strong jaw, nice lips and pale blue eyes that danced and twinkled as if constantly in a humor about life. He was running fingers through shoulder length brown hair and making his way to her. Shelly came to her senses and began to gush words, "Oh I'm so glad to finally see another person! My car decided it was quitting time before it got me to where I was trying to get which in itself seems like a comedy of errors in getting lost. Is it always so hot this early in spring? Do you know anything about fixing this pile of junk? Oh but that probably wouldn't help anyway it's got a flat and no spare." Bubbly rambles accompanied by a sweet smile on a curvatious vivacious woman.... it was forgivable. He'd be bombarded by her questions and sort of explanations but he took it all with that laid back stride country people were famous for. A deep rumbling chuckle, a killer smile and he waived off the issue of the car with a large calloused hand. "I imagine it'd be simpler to call for a wrecker in town. I'd be happy to give you a lift if you wish and yes, heat and Texas go hand in hand nearly all year in these here parts." He had come to stand just before her not but a few feet. To him she looked hotter than the sun could ever compare. She was diminutive to his six foot three height but that made her all the more attractive. "I'm Rick Swanson." he did the polite thing and offered his hand. Looking up to him, well she looked up to a lot of people since she was graced with enough legs and height to get her to a modest five foot five, she smiled brilliantly to his offer of a ride to town. "Oh that would be perfect!" He was offering his hand and a name to go along with looks that had already pulled her in. She reached out and placed her delicate looking hand in his. His fingers closed around her hand swallowing it up in a gentle hold as she spoke, "Thanks for stopping Rick. I'm Shelly Kauphman." She gave his hand a squeeze but failed to pull it away. He stood there with his hand wrapped around hers again loving how small she was in comparison. Her voice was just as sweet as her smile and the good natured bubbliness about her was intoxicating. "Well Shelly... how 'bout we get your things and head to town?" He continued to hold her hand as his mind thought about anything but driving to town. His eyes couldn't help but sweep over that lacey thin slip looking shirt she wore which did little to hide the lace bra and ample breasts underneath. Her skirt was tight to her shapely hips and ended mid thigh which gave her legs a chance to be showcased down to those toned calves and small feet in high heels. Reluctantly she pulled her hand from his and turned to her former rental car. She crossed the small distance to the driver's door and began to fish out her purse, her jacket and replace that folder turned fan back into her briefcase. "I've only got the one bag." she called from the car before exiting the driver's door, opening the back door and bending in to retrieve that small suitcase. With her belongings in hand she thought it would be a pleasure to leave this car behind. He was thinking the same thing but with the words rearranged a little as she bent over into that car giving him such a nice view of her behind. He stepped up to her so that when she straightened and pulled that case to her he was instantly there to take it from her in that old school chivalrous way. She smiled up to him and felt her breath quickened due to his close proximity. Shelly swore she could smell that manly scent of soap and sweat on his skin. He took her bag and led her to the passenger door. Opening it for her he tossed her bag in the long bench backseat of the truck cab then replaced the seat back so she could sit on the front bench seat. This wasn't one of those fancy new trucks with the bucket seats and console in the center. It was one of the old well built machines that kept you in enough comfort to get you from place to place. He offered her a hand to help her climb into the cab which she took with her own. His other hand instinctively went to her hip when she stepped up on the running board to steady her. Just the feel of her curves sent a shiver down his spine. When she was all seated he closed the door and headed around the truck. Watching him round the front of the truck she tried to breathe slower and calm herself down. He was a stranger after all and she should keep her defenses at the ready but that touch to her hip had nearly melted her into putty. Now it was damn near impossible for her to hide the fact that her nipples had reacted and were straining against the pale cream lace of her bra. She had to wonder how long this trip to town would be. Rick climbed in and the truck rumbled to life. They took out leaving that renal car behind with her thoughts of telling off the customer representative in some colorful phrases. Ambling down the road now at a nice clip she looked ahead in the waning light of day. "How far to that town you mentioned?" she cast a look over to him and was caught again in staring at his profile. He had noticed her nipples giving a show and had wondered if it was for the same reason his cock had decided to really wake up. There was something about this Shelly that had his interest more than piqued. He wasn't the type to just pick up random women and have his way with them, no, he had too much honor and self pride for that. He was a gentleman, helping a lady... a lady he could picture with her legs wrapped around his waist. Clearing his throat to help clear his mind from that crotch hardening mental image he sounded as if just preparing to answer her timely put question, "Should take about an hour. This ol'truck is faithful but not a speed train." he met her look with an easy laugh only to forget laughing the instant their eyes locked. An hour. An hour alone in this small space with a man that was the answer to many women's fantasies. That instant in which she held his eyes she was sure he could see the rise of desire, a feeling which took her eyes to be cast back out the windshield and her tongue to quickly kill the awkward silence, "An hour huh? Wow... good thing I didn't try to hike it." She tried her own version of light laughter even though her mind was being devious and sending her images of his body rising and falling over hers as he pounded into her. She lifted a hand to fan at her flushed face. That instant was gone but her laughter made it worth it. He smiled and nodded to her comment then noticed she was fanning herself. Reaching to adjust the flow of air from the nearly non-existent air conditioning he had to suggest, "Sorry it's not much cooler and you might want to scoot to the middle. The vents over there don't work as well as they should." Would he silently thank the truck-gods for the fact that the ducking to the passenger side air vents had crumbled long ago? Most likely. "Oh... ok.. thanks." she nodded to the suggestion of moving where the air could hit her better without even thinking of anything but how he was being helpful. He was too, he hadn't said it with any ulterior motives. The facts that she was now scooting to be right beside him, her skirt was riding up higher in that move and that now he could smell her feminine floral perfume were all bonuses for good living. Closer to him she bit the fullness of her bottom lip and tried to think of anything but his bare chest peeking from that plaid or his tight jeans outlining a certain large bulge. It wasn't like her to think so carnally but how could she not? The eventful day had finally taken a turn toward some good luck in at least she had a ride to town and a hunk to spend that ride with. They passed some of the time with good natured conversation, each telling a little about themselves in the process. Some light flirting went on but it was natural for her to give little touches to his arm along with brilliant smiles and winks. Night fell upon their trip with a bright moon to light the absence of street lamps and sparkling stars to cause her to lean over him and look out his window. "Wow... the stars at night are big and bright..." she giggled with her pulling out of a line from a customary Texas song. He couldn't respond. He was too breath taken by the petite red head who's body was pressing to his in that lean to look out the window. A second later she realized her position and instantly looked up to him. Funny thing was she forgot to sit up first so this left her with her breasts pressed to his chest, her torso half turned toward him and when he inevitably looked down, their faces very close. For a moment he forgot he was driving. For a moment she forgot he was supposed to be a stranger. That spark between them had ignited. "Shelly..." his voice barely above a rough whisper, "... if I don't pull over and kiss you... we'll have a wreck." She didn't even have to reply. The fact that she wasn't moving away from him was answer enough. The truck came to a more abrupt halt than it had earlier in the day and was thrown into park. His hands flew from the steering wheel to thread fingers in dark red curls. Tenderly yet with that strength of his grip he pulled her mouth up to meet his. Lips were pressed then crushed together. Eyes fell closed as sensations were sought. She mewled a soft moan at the feel of his hand gripping her hair so possessively. He growled a quiet moan at feeling her sweet lips so pliant to his advances. Their tongues met and tasted in a dance. He was going insane with desire at the feel of her silk and lace covered breasts letting hard nipples rake over the bare portion of his chest. Finally the kiss broke just for the sheer need to breathe on both their behalves. Both sat there panting and flushed with desire, eyes locked in that moment of time. Neither moved until both moved at the same time. His hands went to her hips and her body lifted to turn. Her own hands guided her skirt up past her hips so that thighs could part and knees could straddle his legs. She sat on his lap facing him now. Without the communication of words they were speaking their shared desire. Shelly caressed his face then leaned in to kiss at his neck and work fingers over his shirt to part the remaining buttons and pull it off his shoulders. Together they worked until he was free of that material and could return his hands to her back. Silently he urged her lips back to his for such a heatedly passionate kiss that they put the Texas sun to shame. Large hands ran fingers up under that silk lifting it until it was necessary that they part the kiss so she could back away enough for him to lift the shirt up over those swells of her breasts and off her head. Arms willingly raised to aid in this then lowered to undo the clasp at her back. His fingers moved in synchronized timing to slip the straps from her shoulders and bare her breasts to his view. She tossed her bra to the other side of the cab while keeping her eyes on his as he stared at such perfectly full round mounds and their pink tipped nipples. As if in awe his hands slowly moved up her sides. Thumbs met the undersides of her breasts and stroked lightly. Large hands moved up, thumbs found the desire to draw circles around her areolas before both breasts were captured in his palms. She was a petite woman but her breasts filled his hands. Small kneading movements before fingers stroked the length over them to end up at her nipples with a gentle pull of each. Shelly was moaning and arching her back for more. No one had ever taken such time to explore and touch her breasts, she was in heaven. Rick saw how delighted she was with his attentions to her breasts and so ignored the painfully hard throbbing of his cock within the confines of his jeans, for now. He ran fingers around the fullness of her breasts and admired the way they moved in the moonlight. She had tilted her head back giving him a delicious view and a tempting pose. He had been so tender and gentle with his caresses and even the pulls to her nipples that when she felt the sudden jolt as his index finger thumped her nipples both at the same time she jumped. The volt of electricity that raced from her nipples to her pussy was intense. Wide eyed she looked down to him with the surprise at how good that felt. Rick grinned up to her with her bolting upright at his flicking her nipples hard like that. She looked so hot with her skirt hiked up and her thighs parted over his lap. A grind of his hips had his hard shaft rubbing up into her jeans and all. He could feel the outline of her nether lips as they ran their lace covered length over his crotch. The returned grind of herself down on his hard-on made him groan with want and the slight pain of it. Still in wordless silence Rick reached a hand between them and tugged that lace to the side. Instead of his crotch it was his fingers that now ran over in caresses to her moist hot folds. Shelly was gasping and wiggling her hips to get her pussy on his fingers more. He'd never seen nor felt anything as hot. Before Rick knew it her small hands were between their bodies as well and her hips had raised off his lap to give her access. She fumbled a little, cursed under her breath a second then managed to free his long hard cock. It was about then that the silence they had maintained was broken, "Ohmygod..." she gasped while looking down between them. There in her hands rested the heavy feel of his ten inch cock. She could barely wrap fingers around it's width. Fantasy didn't begin to describe him now. The look she gave him while her small hands fondled his cock was enough to make him want to shoot his load right then. It was as if she wanted to devour his cock in one gulp. Lust and admiration, desire and disbelief. Shelly found herself directing Rick's cock to the depths of her folds. She managed to run her pussy along his length before positioning that large bulbous head at her entrance. Petite woman meets monster cock and it was all her doing. She rose up, she dropped herself down and they both screamed at the feel of it. Rick bellowed due to his incredibly hard self being impaled into her incredibly tight heat. Shelly screamed due to being stretched and forced onto something way thicker and longer than her body had ever had inside it. His entire length was wiggled onto until she was breathless and having to pause to get used to being so completely and utterly filled. When she looked up to Rick it was as if the entire world faded away to nothingness. There were no more meetings, no more business, no dead car, no old truck, no miles and miles of Texas landscape, no moon, no stars... just two bodies locked as intimately as possible. His arms came around her and crushed her body against his. Plump breasts were smashed against hard muscled chest just as her plush lips were taken by his in a heated kiss. It was his attempt to pause and not shoot off inside of her too quickly. He wanted above all to hear her scream again with the reason that he was giving her the orgasm of her life. That was his goal. His kisses left her mouth and trailed down her neck to let lips and tongue swirl around her nipples. He teased her mercilessly until she was panting and begging with whimpering moans before he took a nipple in his mouth. While his tongue flicked and swirled his other hand was busy tugging and rolling the other nipple. Both mouth and hand became gradually rougher eventually leading up to teeth biting and pulling while fingertips pinched and pulled. This had it's desired effect of her moans filling the cab of the truck and her hips moving so that her pussy stroked at his cock. Shelly had never been with a man who cared so much about pleasing her. Maybe it was just the position they were in with her locked on top of his lap between him and the steering wheel or maybe, just maybe he was that great of a lover.... what luck!! She rolled her hips against his and felt his monster cock stroking ever bit of her insides. She felt she couldn't be more filled even if there were two cocks inside of her. Fingernails dragged down his chest then rose to bite into his shoulders as hips could not help but move harder on his length. When Rick felt his cock sliding out then back into her pussy and womb with her movements he groaned a long moan. He could feel his head rake along her hot slippery insides like no woman he'd had before, she was so tight. Together they began to find a rhythm of hips and sexes. He pleasured both of her nipples until she was panting and wanting to slam her hips into his. Lifting his mouth he tilted his head back and put his hands to her hips. Pale blue eyes watched her as she began to bounce on the length of his cock. To him it seemed like he barely moved out of her before she was plunging back down due to his length and her petite size. Texas Heat The jiggling bouncing of her breasts mesmerized him. She was completely perfect. From her dark red hair to her tiny feet, from her perfect full and firm breasts to the tightness of her pussy, from the delicate curve of her back to the toned muscle of her ass.. she was perfect in his eyes. And now she was perfectly driving him toward release as her body rode his cock. "Ohhh damn... Shelly... I'm... uuggnnn..." intelligence melted into carnal grunts as her pussy began to throb and milk his cock with urgency. Shelly felt her pussy clench and knew the edge of that cliff was near. She'd be plunging into orgasm soon and with abandon she rode his cock as if for dear life. She bounced and ground herself into him hearing the seat of the truck squeak and groan in time. She leaned forward and let her breasts rake hard nubs of nipples along his chest when he proclaimed he was, well he didn't say what exactly he was but she could tell by the elongation and jerk of his cock that he was about to fill her with his seed. "I want it! Oh Rick... oh! RICK!" she screamed his name as her body gave into that ecstasy and pushed her over the cliff of pleasure. Her pussy gripped greedily tight to his cock urging him to cum too and that was more than enough to send him over the edge. The way she screamed his name would echo in his memory for the rest of his life. His hands gripped her hips hard, fingers digging into her ass to hold her down on his cock as it shuddered and gave spurt after long spurt of cum into her wanting pussy. Together their juices mingled creating enough to seep out of the tight bond their sexes had and coating their inner thighs. Together they rode the waves of pleasure to the heavens then slowly back down to earth. Together they panted,sweated and moaned then locked eyes again. Shelly thought she'd faint from the amount of pleasure his cock and everything about him had given her. Rick thought he'd never stop pulsing his seed into her such a hard orgasm she gave him. Finally Shelly collapsed to resting against his chest where he hugged her tightly. There was nothing awkward about their silence or the fact they were still coupled together. Shelly sighed her contentment and Rick kissed the top of her head. After some time just holding each other like that they both moved at the same time. Shelly rose up, high up, in order to allow his cock to pull out of her. Her pussy held tight so that it slurped an exit and waved in the air once free. She moved with his help to sit on the seat beside him again. Both naked from the waist up, both sat there catching their breaths again. Reaching over Shelly grabbed the camisole top and pulled it on over her head. To Rick it looked as if she wasn't wearing anything at all, so see through as it was and it was damn sexy. He moved to try to pull his jeans back up and zip up but his cock made it difficult due to how hard he still amazingly was. Shelly put her hand atop his and shook her head with a grin, "Why don't you let me help... while you drive us to town." It wasn't a question. With a surprised look he nodded a "Yes M'am." in his southern drawl and started the truck again. Heading out on the road with his cock exposed, her skirt still hiked up, her breasts right there and now her hand on his cock wasn't easy in the concentration on driving department. He could tell she was of the mindset that she'd never done anything like this before but was oh so willing to try anyway. He was equally as willing. Onto the highway at the top speed of the truck he backed off the gas when she lowered her head toward his lap. "Holy..." he muttered when her lips kissed his cock head then slipped lower to run along the length of his shaft. Before he knew it she was enveloping his cock, which was now rock hard again, with her smooth lips in a mind blowing blow job. Her tongue was magical and her teeth made his hips raise off the seat and the truck swerve a little. She sucked down as much length as she could which to his view made her cheeks puff out and her jaw be as wide open as it could be. The rest of the drive to town consisted of him driving often on the wrong side of the road, sometimes forgetting to press the gas pedal or pressing it too hard. He came in her lovely mouth to which she drank down almost all of it... gods she was perfect! When they hit the city limits he was zipped up and her skirt was tugged to a more normal length. She was leaning against his arm hugging his bicep to her breasts. "Umm... want to try to find a tow-truck first?" he asked not really knowing what her thoughts were about it all. He sure as hell didn't want to do anything but find the nearest motel. Looking up at him with that question she paused for a moment. Sea green eyes contemplated with that look on what he meant by asking about the tow-truck first. It wasn't too hard to read him though for one practiced in the art of reading people. She smiled sweetly and shook her head. "You're not getting rid of me that easily." A look out the windshield and a lift of her hand to point to just what he wanted, a roadside motel. To her reply and smile his own broad smile broke. A rich deep laugh and a quip, "Hell no... not done with you by a long shot." a wink as the tires crunched on the gravel of the motel drive. It was one of those one story places with a country homey look to it. Pulling to a stop in front of the office he reached past her to grab his shirt. He couldn't resist a kiss to her lips and a brush of fingers along one nipple. She purred as he drove his arms into his shirt and hopped from the truck with a bit of a rush. After asking for a more secluded room with one king sized bed later that old truck was parked for the night right outside of one of the rooms on the far end. Helping Shelly from the truck Rick carried her and her bags into the cozy room. Kicking the door closed behind him he dropped her bags on the floor and walked with her in his arms over to the bed. She squealed as he tossed her effortlessly onto the mattress and looked rather pleased with himself for doing so. Not one to usually bother Rick made the effort to place the "Do Not Disturb" sign on the outside handle then reclosed the door with a definite click of the lock. If Shelly thought the Texas day had been hot Rick was about to show her how the night could be even hotter. (To be continued...) Texas Heat July is hot in Texas. I mean really hot! Angie and I had lived in Arlington for 15 or 16 years so we had grown accustomed to the heat. I guess we weirdly had embraced it and relished the summer time. We just tolerated the colder winter weather. Summer always brought us into the yard and all the work that a 5 acre piece of paradise requires. That year's project was to create a Koi pond and water treatment to enhance the walking path. The pool had been completed years ago and is the focal point of our immediate back yard. The banana trees that cover the back side of the pool area give the area a sort of tropical feel. The waterfall and pond would extend the feeling of being in an exotic spa on a secluded island. Our land is surrounded with a combination of live oak and magnolia trees that hide the yard and house from the road. As a result we had gotten in the habit of swimming without benefit of swim suits. I am sure that anyone that saw Angie in or around the pool would find her to be very appealing. Angie could be described as sexy but girl next doorish. Her auburn hair is cut short in a sort of bob cut that complements her cute turned up nose and full lips that seem to be in a perpetual smile. Her hazel eyes sparkle when she is teasing or laughing. In the bedroom they penetrate you with pure sexuality. Her 5 foot 4 inch body competes for attention with her pretty face. Small but prominent breasts seem to always be aroused as witnessed by pink erect nipples surrounded by a light brown areole. Her slim waist accentuates her full hips. Her legs are fantastic. They are shapely and meet at a place of extreme delight. Hers is the most responsive vagina that I had ever had the pleasure to enter. Our sex life was, in nearly every way...exceptional. The only missing aspect was that we had allowed our sex to become monotonous and while it always came to a magnificent conclusion the trip was well...boring. (Her comments not mine.) While I may not be the most accomplished lover I do pretty well in that department. I am 5 foot 10 inches and have no sign of love handles. I am told that I am sensuously attractive and that my dark brown wavy hair accentuates my chiseled chin and sharp Roman nose. I rarely smile. Not because of not being happy it just is a quirk of mine. I don't know why. As long as we are discussing body parts; my penis is slightly above average size and I can hold off ejaculating until my partner has achieved her orgasm. I am an instructor for a large multinational corporation. My area of responsibility involves conducting classes for a variety of disciplines such as team building, skill development, quality improvement, process development and social awareness in areas of sexual discrimination and harassment. I lead a group of 6 instructors. Angie works for a law firm that specializes in patent law. She is a legal secretary. Both of us earn in six figures. I remember vividly when we started the Koi pond project... Today is Saturday and we have been digging the hole for the pond. This morning started out at 80 and has climbed to 95 at 10 am. The prediction is for near 100 by later this afternoon. We both are dripping wet with sweat. Angie has suggested that it is time for a break. I agree. Angie kicks off her slip-on canvas shoes and slips off her halter top. With a great deal of difficulty she pushes down her shorts. She is wearing no under garments. Her body glistens as she walks to the edge of the pool. Her breasts bounce slightly with each step. Her hips rotate in a way that makes my stomach tighten and my crouch expand. She jumps in the pool feet first and splashes water over the edge. I never tire of admiring her as she swims the length of the pool and flips under and back strokes slowly and seductively back to her starting point. I quickly struggle out of my tee, shorts and briefs. My tennis shoes come off last. By the time Angie reaches my end of the pool I am standing at the edge fully erect. I sit down and slide into the water and take her in my arms. Without foreplay we are joined. The cool water makes her nipples more impressive and as I stroke in her velvet tunnel I tease them with my lips and fingers. She wraps her legs around my waist and moves with ever increasing speed and demands that I follow her lead. At once she throws her head back and releases her sounds of pleasure. As her climax reaches its peak she pushes her face into my shoulder and bites. Not hard but enough that there is pain and I can no longer hold off. I had been gripping her bottom in my hands and now I pull her hard against me as I fill her with my semen. As we come down from our orgasms we kiss and fondle passionately. She releases her grip on my waist and lets her legs slide down to touch the pool floor. I soften and slide from her. Strings of my fluid are released from her and rise to the top of the water. She pulls them to her and massages her breasts with the silky stuff. We spend the next several minutes caressing each other and remain in a continuous kiss. After swimming the length of the pool several times we climb out and towel off. I go inside and return with a couple of beers. We sit in the sun and bask in the afterglow of our sex. Silently I reflect on the status of our landscaping project. I turn to Angie and I start the conversation that would change our lives. "Angie, we are going to have to find some help with this project or we'll never finish. Next Saturday I'll go down to the shelter and see if there are any men that would be willing to work the week-end with us." Angie had a bit of a frown as she responded, "Are you sure you want to bring a homeless person into our home?" "Yes, I think that they might be willing to work for a small amount of money and welcome staying in our home over the weekend." I laughed as I explained, "I'll talk to the director and get a reference so we don't end up with a drug crazed axe murderer." She didn't seem totally convinced but agreed. Chapter 2 The next Saturday I arrived at the shelter at 8am and found Johnny Dewitt who was supervising the shelter for the weekend. I explained to him what I was looking for and he came up with a name immediately. "Mark has been here for only a couple of weeks. He has been in construction and fell on hard times. He has an alcohol problem so be sure you don't have any around or he may fall to temptation. He is strong physically but a bit shaggy." With that recommendation he went outside and returned with this man that must have been 6 foot 2 or more. He looked to weigh well over 200 pounds. There was no sign of fat on his massive frame. As advertised he was shaggy. His hair was pulled back into a ponytail and his beard was ragged. It was hard to tell but he looked to be in his mid thirties. His clothes were faded jeans and a denim long sleeve shirt. His shoes were leather work shoes that had long ago worn out. He had a slight body odor but not so bad as to be repulsive. He approached me with a broad smile and displayed surprisingly white teeth. He held out his hand and stated, "I understand that you need help with some heavy landscaping work." I replied in the affirmative and explained, "My name is Grant and my wife is Angie. I can pay $50 a day and furnish your meals for today and tomorrow. It would be more convenient if you would be willing to stay the night in our guest room. Do we have a deal?" "Sure, why not. It would be nice to be somewhere besides here for a couple of days. Chapter 3 Mark explained on the ride home that he had had a great job with a large home builder that went belly up and with the recession and his alcohol problem he couldn't find another job. He was divorced for three years and had no children. His parents and a brother lived in Ohio. He didn't want to leave Texas. But mostly he couldn't bring himself to fall back onto his parents for help. At least not until he was sure he had licked his addiction. When we arrived Angie had made some sandwiches and offered us Coke and chips to enjoy before going to work. Mark smiled at Angie as he sat down at the table. While I could not say that there was anything overt he seemed to be stimulated by her. I can't explain it but there was some kind of electricity in the air. Angie must have felt it too because she sat close to me and her face was flushed. At that point I chalked it up to her being so sexy in her shorts and knit top. I noticed she had put on a sports bra. So I guess she was trying to be discreet; with a stranger in the house. After we ate we worked until about 2 pm. We went into the house to get cooled off in the AC. Angie had prepared some sweet tea and we relaxed for 30 minutes before continuing in the heat. Again Mark would seem to be taking more than a few quick glances at Angie. At the end of the day Mark had carried his load far more than I would have expected. He was a dynamo. The hole was dug and ready to install the pond liner. Angie had mostly made sure that Mark and I had plenty of water and cool wet towels. At 6 pm I said we should call it a day and get some supper. Lord knows we all needed to shower and change clothes. I would have relished a cold beer but I resisted in order to keep temptation from Mark. The pool was inviting but I didn't feel that it would be appropriate to ask Mark to try to fit into one of my swim suits. Not that they would have fit him anyway. I showed Mark to the master bathroom. I thought that the master shower would be better for us to use and Angie could use the guest bath. I sent him in to take the first turn. Angie thought it would be best to launder Mark's clothes as he had brought only the clothes on his back. When I heard the shower running I went in to gather up his clothes and dropped off a bathrobe for him to wear while his clothes were in the wash and dryer. When I looked over at the glass shower enclosure he had his back to me and was lathering up. I smiled and picked up his clothes. I noticed that there was no underwear. The poor guy was in need of a lot of help. I would have to discuss with Angie what we could do for him. As I turned toward the door I glanced at him and nearly walked into the wall. The man had turned toward me and displayed the longest and thickest cock I had ever seen and it was swinging limp between his legs. "Damn," I thought, "What must it be like hard?" I caught up with Angie and while she started the washing machine I exclaimed,"Mark is hung like a bull. I mean a Texas longhorn bull. You will have to see it for yourself." She responded, "Surely you exaggerate. Besides I don't think it would be polite for me to rush in and ask to see his cock." "Perhaps not; but it's amazing." I left her and went back to the master bath. As I opened the door Mark was toweling off and I watched mesmerized as he rubbed the towel over his equipment. I couldn't help myself. I blurted out, "Damn guy, that is one hellofa cock. I bet the ladies love it. At least the ones that aren't afraid of it." He looked down, blushed and thoughtfully replied, "I suppose some are afraid the first time. But it's not so big as to hurt anyone." I have no idea what possessed me but the next thing that came into my mind was that Angie would enjoy a bout with that monster. It certainly wouldn't be boring. I looked from his cock to his eyes and stated, "Mark would you fuck my wife?" He looked shocked and stuttered his answer, "Wwwhat are you talking about?" I was in too deep to back off so I explained, "Angie has never been with a man that was as well endowed as you. I don't know if she would go along but I would like to find out. So if you are willing I will try to set something up." I continued, "If she agrees to sleeping with you our bedroom door will be unlocked at 10. If it is locked then she has said no." Mark looked confused but I could see the wheels turning. He was probably thinking that he had signed on to dig a hole and now he was being asked to sleep with a man's wife. Surely something is really wrong here. Finally he grinned, "You think that a woman as incredible as your wife would consider fucking me? I mean look at me." I replied, "I don't know. But I would like to see her getting off on that thing. So I will be using all the clout I have to talk her into it. Are you willing?" Mark smiled and said, "I would be a fool to turn down something as hot as she is. So sure, if she is willing then so am I." I looked him over and decided that he could be a bit less shaggy. I suggested, "Tell you what. Why don't you shave off that shaggy beard? It looks like a good looking guy might be hidden under there somewhere." I gave him scissors and my razor and told him to get rid of it. Chapter 4 When the beard was gone I saw that I was correct. Mark was a really good looking guy. He had the whole package. Great body, good looks and really hung. I was finding that I was getting more than a little envious. I handed Mark the bathrobe and told him to go on out to the kitchen and get a glass of tea from the fridge. "I'll take my shower and join you shortly." I undress and get into the shower. As I mentioned I am more than average cock wise, but looking at it now it sure seemed inadequate. I wonder if Angie will find it so if she actually does fuck Mark. I dress and go into the kitchen. Mark and Angie are sitting at the table engaged in an animated conversation. Angie is sitting in the chair at the right of Mark. I didn't remember the chairs being so close. As I turn from the fridge and walk toward the table I notice that the robe that Mark is wearing is open just a little below the waist. I realize at that Mark is not going to rely on just my powers of persuasion. He is displaying his wares for Angie to observe. "Good," I think to myself. Angie looks to me and back to Mark. Mark says something to me and looks in my direction she steals a quick look at his lap. I can tell she has seen it and is curious. Perhaps I won't have to work too hard to get her to go along. We order in pizza and spend the evening talking and laughing. Mark is good company and Angie has warmed up to him. At 9:30 I suggest that it had been a long day and perhaps we should get some shut-eye. Mark stands up and provides a quick glimpse of his privates as the robe closes. Angie has not missed it. Nor have I. Angie and I retire to our bedroom and Mark heads to the guest room. Angie had washed and dried his clothes and placed them on his bed. When we close the door, I looked her in the eye and state abruptly, "Mark could be an intriguing encounter. I can tell that you're curious I think you might like to make it with him. I'd be willing to trade places with him for the night." I finish by pulling her into my arms and continue, "Although I would prefer to stay and watch. I know that sounds kinky but I would love to see you being fucked and climaxing on that big cock of his." She makes no reply. She pulls back the covers and begins to remove her clothes. When she is completely unclothed she comes to me and says, "Make love to me." I strip and we cuddle in the center of the king-sized bed. My hands are all over her. I have a raging erection and she strokes it softly and slowly. My fingers find her nether lips and enter her. One finger, then two, then three. I move in and out to the rhythm that she is employing on me. Our lips are joined and our tongues dance. I realize that it must be 10 pm when the door opens and Mark moves into the room. Angie had never agreed and I had failed to lock the door. I feel Angie stiffen and pull away from me. She says nothing. I had left the lamp next to the bed on and the room was shadowy but the bed was fully lit. Angie and I are exposed to Marks hungry eyes. I rose up and saw that he had dropped the robe and his erection was long, thick and jerking with his excitement. I whisper, "Mark could you help me here. I believe she needs what you have to offer." Again she makes no comment. She takes a deep breath and her eyes grow large and her mouth is open. I touch her chest and her heart is going in overdrive. Mark climbs onto the bed opposite me. He reclines on one elbow and runs his eyes over and over Angie's body. He hesitates only for a moment before he reaches out and touches her face. He bends down and kisses her softly. She begins to respond as his kisses become more insistent. Her hands move to his neck and she pulls him hard against her lips. Their tongues begin their exploration. Mark softly caresses her face and slowly moves his lips and tongue to her neck and then her shoulder. His fingers tease one nipple the then other. His huge hand encircles her breast. He gently squeezes it and then moves to the other making sure that neither is neglected. Angie rubs his torso and runs her nails down his back. Her arousal is complete. I had started her excitement with my suggestion and our foreplay has moved it to a higher level. The sight and the touch of this man have brought her to an intensity that I have never witnessed. She is moaning and rocking. Her hips are lifting and dropping. She is out of control. I slide off the bed to avoid being a distraction. Mark takes this as my acceptance that Angie is his and his alone for this moment. His hand caresses her belly and slips to her legs. She spreads them to allow him access to everything. She is holding back nothing. His fingers arrive at the entrance to her vagina and he gently moves his rough hand up and down her slit. His middle finger enters her and she holds her breath. He adds a second finger and begins the stroking that is lubricating her. He seems satisfied that she is sufficiently lubricated and ready for his offering. He rises above her and takes her legs to her chest and places his organ against her quivering love passage. She softly whispered, "Please, don't hurt me. I have never even dreamed of taking anything such as yours." Mark lowers his lips and kisses her softly as he begins to push into her. He kisses her ear and whispers, "Relax, I will go slow and let you adjust. It will be fine. You'll see. The head of his organ disappears. Another kiss and words of assurance and an inch or two disappears. Then another inch or so slowly enters her tight pussy. Angie moans and gasps, "Oh my gawd, you are going to split me in two. I don't think I can take it. Please it hurts." Mark pushes more of his enormous tool and when over half of its length has been inserted he whispers, "Relax it will get better." I fear that Angie is being hurt and I move to the bed and hold her hand. "Baby, if you don't want to do this he will stop." She shakes her head, "No it's too late to stop. Go ahead Mark. I want your big cock, all of it!" With that he begins to stroke with a rhythm that is amazing to watch. Each stroke allows more of his penis to enter. Finally Angie has accepted all of it and she is moving to match each push. She groans and begs for him to take her over the top. She begs for him to fuck her hard and fast. An orgasm overtakes her in just minutes. Another begins and she screams her pleasure. Mark begins to move faster and faster. He is unbelievable. Angie is reaching a massive orgasm. She screams, "Oh fuck, oh fuck, I can't believe ITTT".... Then she goes limp. Mark continues to thrust with abandon. His orgasm arrives and he pushes hard against her. He throws his head back and hollers, "Oh shit, it's been a long time!" I watched as his ass cheeks clinch with each eruption. There are many. He then collapses and rolls away from her. His penis is still erect and dripping fluid. His spunk is running out of Angie's gaping hole. The amount of it is surreal. Literally a pool of semen has formed under her. I realize that she has fainted. Her climax was so intense that she lost consciousness. I had been stoking my erection and had not shot off but was very close. I climb on the bed and insert my penis in her dripping hole. There is little friction but the idea of being in her after watching her with Mark brings me over the top. I shoot hard and full into her already overflowing vagina. Texas Heat I roll off to the side opposite Mark and caress her face. Mark moves over her and kisses her softly and lovingly. I play with her breasts and put my fingers into her and withdraw some of the fluid. I bring my fingers to my lips and suck off the mixture of her two lovers. I had supposed that I thought that the semen from a man such as this would be the nectar of the gods. But it is just salty bitter cum. Angie begins to stir and as she opens her eyes she looks from me to Mark and sighs, "That was WOW! Thank you Mark and thank you, my darling Grant, for getting me to experience it." I kiss her and say, "It was my pleasure as well. Enjoy the night." With that being said I slip off the bed and leave the room. I retire to the guest room and fall into the bed. I replay the event over and over in my mind. Perhaps an hour has passed when I hear Angie scream with another orgasm. I fall asleep with these sounds ringing in my head and with an erection that just wouldn't seem to go away. I am captivated in the idea of another man fucking my wife. I have no understanding of where this has come from but it has totally seized me in its grip. Chapter 5 When I awake Sunday morning the house is silent. I quickly bring back the images of the night before and begin to masturbate. The images are so powerful that I cum in just a couple of minutes. I grab a tissue and wipe up the spunk and roll out of bed. I go to the master bedroom and slowly and quietly open the door. I don't want to wake them. When I look in Angie is on top of Mark and is thrusting on his cock. He has his hands filled with her breasts and is pushing up to meet her thrusts. They are fucking slowly and silently. Angie has her eyes closed and is biting her lip. Mark is looking up at her and is obviously enjoying the vision. They are so absorbed in their activity that they don't notice me. I watch and feel a tug of jealousy. Angie is having the sex of her life and I had made it happen. My fear is that now she'll not be able to be satisfied without a man of Mark's size and ability. I silent close the door and go to the kitchen and start the coffee. When I return from getting the newspaper I hear the shower running. The coffee is ready. I pour a mug full and sit down to the sports section. I finish the sports section and begin working on my second mug of black coffee as Mark enters. He is grinning and there is an obvious bounce to his walk. He is fully dressed. I offer coffee. He asks for milk and sugar. I get up and pour him a mug and place the milk carton and the sugar bowl next to his mug. I watch as he puts three heaping spoonfuls in with a small amount of milk. As I sit back down Angie comes into the room. She comes over to me and hugs my shoulders and kisses my cheek. "Isn't this a marvelous morning?" She offers. She then goes to Mark and rubs against him as she pours her coffee. Milk; no sugar. She smiles up at him and winks. She has put on her shortest shorts and a tight knit top. No bra and no panties. Damn, she looks hot! I don't know who is more taken with her, Mark or me. She moves about the kitchen fixing her coffee. She seem to have some difficulty walking. I get up and go to her as she stirs her coffee. I whisper in her ear, "A little sore this morning are we; too much of a good thing perhaps?" She looks at her coffee mug and replies, "No such thing as too much of that thing." She strolls to the table and leans over Mark and asks, "What would you like for breakfast big guy?" He blushes but is quick with a retort, "I believe I've had a quite delicious breakfast already. Maybe a little lunch would be great later." Angie giggles, "You did get seem to get your fill, didn't you?" I interrupt their banter, "Okay you two let's see about some food and get to work. We still have some work to get done today." We agree to settle for cereal and coffee. We make our way to the yard to set the pond liner and start stacking the stone for the waterfall. Mark is just as energetic as the day before. I can hardly keep up with him. By 1 o'clock we have everything completed and only the electrical and setting of the pump remains. I look at Angie and Mark who have been working closely and announce, "We are done for today! Thank you Mark for all you have done. We'll get some lunch and I'll drive you back to the shelter. I really appreciate everything you did this week-end. And I am sure Angie would echo my sentiments." Right babe? Angie has a look of disappointment as she responds, "Oh sure, I mean it has been great having you. I mean you were great. Oh, you know what I mean." She walks hurriedly into the house. I smile at Mark who also has a disappointed look as he watches her move her hips in that sexy walk she has. He licks his lips and returns my smile. Lunch is quiet; No one has anything to say that would be appropriate considering my decision to get Mark out of my house and life. I have become very jealous and more than a little envious of his affect on Angie. By 3 o'clock Mark is in my car and we are alone driving back into town. Mark breaks the silence, "You know Grant, What happened last night and this morning, well... It was great and I don't know how you could have allowed me or any man for that matter to fuck your beautiful wife. I know--she enjoyed it but you must have been out of your mind to let me sleep with her." I don't respond until we drive into the parking lot of the shelter and park the car. "Mark, here's the $100 I promised you. The deal with Angie...well that was a mistake. It won't happen again. I think you can understand that." He sighs, "Yes, I do. But I had hoped before breakfast that there might be more opportunities. Your lady is one hell of a demon in the sack; probably the best that I have ever had. I think she really wanted more time with me. If you guys change your mind you know where to find me." With that he got out of the car and slammed the door, hard. I muttered to myself, "No chance in hell." Angie spent the rest of the day reading magazines and I watched some golf on TV. That night she put on some kind of granny gown thing and rolled away from me and feigned sleep. I laid awake for hours running the events of the week-end over and over in my mind. The mental pictures of Angie and Mark together had produced an erection. Angie had told me without words that she was not interested in making love with me. She was pissed. Finally I couldn't take it any longer I had to get relief. As quietly as I could I slipped out of bed and went to the bathroom. I turned on the light and dropped my shorts and stepped out of them. I stood in front of the mirror and stroked my cock. I placed one hand on the counter top and with the other I began pumping as hard and fast as I could. I was so aroused that I came in just a couple of minutes. The semen shot onto the counter top and one shot hit the mirror. Finally only some ran off the end and onto my fist. I raised my hand and licked it clean. With my fingers I picked up as much of the spunk as I could and licked my fingers clean. All the while I was masturbating I was visualizing Mark's marvelous penis. As I sucked cum from my fingers I imagined that I was sucking Mark and eating his cum. When my orgasm was over and my cock deflated I looked at this person in the mirror and wondered where he had come from. This wasn't me. How could I have given my wife to another man and how could I have fantasized about having oral sex with him. I was never a pervert or gay. Until now. Texas Heat Patrick took a long overdue trip to Houston. It was late June and the temperatures were already into triple digits. The plane landed and he looked out the window and readied for business. He picked up his rental car and drove it to a plush hotel near his first appointment. Patrick checked in and was pleased at the room and the fitness center. He decided to go down to the lobby and have a beer at the bar. The hotel bar was fairly quiet. He gazed around and noticed a tall, pretty brunette looking down at her phone in disgust. When she looked up he did a double, and then a triple take. It was her. In a city of nearly 3 million, there she sat. The girl he talked with many times on Skype and MSN. The girl with sensuous eyes and alluring smile. She nearly spilled her drink when she realized it was him. They sat and talked and Patrick learned that Stephanie's date was a doctor. He had to cancel at the last minute, due to an emergency. Apparently, this wasn't uncommon, and Stephanie was not pleased. Patrick chastised the doctor for leaving a pretty girl waiting and ordered a drink and had her's freshened. They toasted to unexpected meetings and enjoyed a talk. After a few drinks, Patrick invited Stephanie up to see the wonderful sunset from his room and she smiled coyly then followed him up the elevator His hand brushed her thighs as they walked to his room. He opened the door and took her to the window. It was truly an expansive view as they enjoyed to vibrant colors. He mixed her one more drink from the minibar and approached her from behind. The light shone thru her beautiful sundress and he could see the curves of a voluptuous, toned ass. As he got closer, he stopped just behind her and looked over her shoulder. They gazed out at the last of the daylight and he leaned in to kiss her neck and inhale her soft scent. He reached down and lifted her sundress by inches. Her tanned thighs were toned, but sexy. Stephanie's thong was revealed as he raised her dress, ever so slowly. While still kissing her neck and softly biting her shoulder, he lowered her silky panties down deliberately. He took a drink and grabbed and ice cube with his lips. Then, he exposed her lower spine. Kneeling, he traced the ice cube softly down her spine and let it tease her rosebud and the cheeks of her bottom. With the curtain open, he leaned her forward. Spreading her legs with gentle power, he began to search for her essence with his tongue. As Patrick held the ice cube with his teeth, Steph pushed her hips back and he fucked her sweet pussy with the cold cube.She was hot and wet and the cube dissolved in her honey. His tongue pressed into her nectar. He curled his tongue up, like and slid it in deeply. Licking pussy at this angle allowed him to suck and reach places she hadn't felt. He held her hips and licked her sweet clit until she throbbed Reversing his head he lowered her until she was nearly sitting on his chin. He pulled her in and she needed no more help. She tilted her pelvis and rubbed her sweet pussy all over his face. Steph felt an orgasm build from her toes to her ears and exploded. Her sweet cum flooded Patrick. After the spasms subsided, Patrick rose and stood behind her. He took his hard cock into his hand and rubbed and probed her core. She wanted him and she wanted it hard and deep, the first time. His cock swelled up as he drove the head, and then the shaft in faster. He pulled her sundress of completely and pressed her against the glass. Her beasts firmly against the window, as Patrick drilled her tight pussy. She turned to look at him with a fiery lust in her eyes. He knew that look. The one that says, fuck me hard. Patrick fucked Steph until his balls were slapping her clit. He drove in again and again until he felt his cum boiling in his balls. Before Patrick filled Steph with his seed, he reached around to stroke her nub. At last, they came together in an explosion of sex. He lifted her and turned her and carried her to bed. Looking into her eyes he smiled and was grateful for doctors being on call. They shared one last drink and thought about the next chapter. Texas Heat: Brandi Bottoms Up (A naughty spankee, a tattletale neighbor, and a paddle-wielding husband... everyone’s satisfied!) I had been a good girl all week. Too good. A spankee can only go so long without a good over-the-knee paddling, and then she feels the effects of withdrawal. Her bottom feels neglected, needs to be warmed, attended to with harsh, loving care. So I did what any spankee would do when she has received a directive. I violated it. I oiled my body luxuriously with a pungent-scented suntan oil and donned my skimpy bikini. Miss Conaway was right—the bright pink top was no more than two tiny patches of fabric held together by string, covering only my nipples and leaving the fleshy part of my breasts exposed. The matching bottom was a triangle that barely covered my mostly-shaved mound, with a string that ran up the crack of my ass, making me squirm in delicious discomfort. I spread out a towel over my chaise, turned on the portable radio, set my timer for ten minutes, and lay down on my tummy with my sweet bare bottom exposed. At first I was afraid that Miss Conaway might not even be home, but eventually I glimpsed movement behind her mini-blinds. Oh yes, she was home. And she was watching. I put on a show, rolling over after ten minutes, massaging more oil on my breasts. I was tempted to remove my top completely, but decided I would rather not risk being reported for indecent exposure. I imagined Miss Conaway inside her house, watching me, rubbing her hot swollen pussy the way she had rubbed it after spanking me last week. At the memory of that sweet spanking, I felt my cunt contract with mischievous pleasure. After thirty minutes and the assurance that my misdeed had not gone unnoticed, I gathered my things and went back in the house. That evening, when my husband, Daniel, came home, I greeted him at the door, wearing a low-cut white sundress that showed off my tan. After handing him his favorite drink—a Manhattan—I looked up at him from beneath lowered lashes and asked, “Would you like me to suck your cock, sir?” “Mmmm—that sounds like a good idea. I’ve had a tough day. That’s just what I need to unwind.” He sat on the couch and I unzipped his trousers while he sipped his drink. I ran my tongue around the head of his cock, licking the juices that were already gathering there. “You always know just what I need, Brandi,” he moaned, threading his fingers through my long dark hair. I moaned with pleasure at the taste of his yummy cock and the feel of his hands in my hair. Then I went to work with my tongue on the underside of his beautiful hard organ, feeling the veins pulsing against my sensitive tongue. I sealed my lips around the base of that massive column, creating a suction that drew a deep groan from him. “God, I love fucking your mouth,” he said, gathering my hair into his hand so that he could better guide the movement and rhythm of my head over his lap. “That’s a good girl, suck me good. You know how I like it.” “Mmmm,” I mumbled around his cock, loving the feel of his hand pulling at my hair to control me. “You love to suck cock, don’t you, little slut?” he murmured. Before I could moan in agreement, the doorbell rang. “Shit!” he exclaimed, as I broke the suction of my mouth around his cock. “If that’s anybody other than Ed McMahan telling me I’ve won the Clearing House Sweepstakes, I’m going to be really pissed.” Daniel got up and zipped his trousers and went to the door. I waited obediently by the couch, still on my knees, with my fingers crossed in the hopes that it was the one person I was expecting. My wish was granted when I heard my husband say, “Miss Conaway, come in.” He ushered our neighbor into the living room and offered her a drink. “I’ll have a martini,” she said icily, seating herself primly on the edge of a chair. “Vodka? Gin?” he asked, moving to the wet bar. “Er…yes, thank you,” she replied. My husband gave a puzzled frown, and, realizing that she had probably never had a martini, proceeded to fix her a very dry gin martini with two olives. The silence was broken only by the sound of my husband shaking the liquor and ice cubes in a steel mixing container. I could feel Miss Conaway’s cold stare, but I kept my eyes lowered, afraid that she might see the mischievous smile on my lips, that even now were swollen and shining with my husband’s juices. “To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit?” Daniel asked. “I’m afraid I must get right to the point, Mr. Hughes.” “Please, call me Daniel.” “Er, Daniel. My visit is not a social one.” Yeah, right, I was thinking. It isn’t a social one. It’s a purely sexual one. “Oh?” Again, the puzzled frown knit my husband’s handsome dark brows, and he lowered himself onto the sofa, next to where I was kneeling, and crossed one well-muscled, elegant leg over the other. I peeked out of the corner of my eyes to see Miss Conaway squirm on the edge of her chair as she watched his sleek movements. My husband knew well the effect that he had on women, and he used it often to his advantage. (Of course, I had every confidence that even though he used his good looks and the promise of his animal sexuality to get what he wanted, I was the only one with whom he actually carried out that promise.) Miss Conaway cleared her throat and straightened her spine. Beneath her thin cotton blouse, her nipples had hardened visibly and stuck out like two dried plums. My husband had surely not missed this—he was a keen observer of women’s sexual responses. To stoke the fire a little, he reached down and began to massage the back of my neck, fondling my bare shoulder until one thin strap of my sundress slid down off my shoulder, revealing more of the fleshy globe of my breast. His gesture was rewarded with the widening of Miss Conaway’s pale blue eyes. “Mr. Hughes—I mean Daniel,” she began. “Are you aware that your wife goes sunbathing in the yard during the day while you are not at home?” He gripped my shoulder and I looked up at him. “Is that true, Brandi?” he asked. “Yes, Daniel,” I replied. “I thought you had been going to a tanning salon,” he said. “Sometimes I like to stay home so I can play the radio and listen for the phone—in case you call,” I added subserviently. He turned to our neighbor. “Is there some problem with my wife sunbathing, Miss Conaway?” “Yes—no—well, it wouldn’t be a problem if she would wear appropriate attire.” “I see.” I could hear the amusement in his voice as he moved his hand to the other side of my neck and imperceptibly nudged that slender strap off my shoulder. With both straps down around my arms, the fleshy tops of my breasts were plainly visible. It was all I could do to keep from looking down to admire them. Clearly, though, Miss Conaway was making no effort to look away; her gaze was riveted on my beautiful tits. “Her bikini is entirely too revealing. I spoke with her about it last week, and she promised she would not sunbathe in such a lewd costume again. But today I looked out—to admire my garden—and there she was at it again.” “Brandi, it seems you’ve offended our neighbor.” My husband’s voice was thick with passion and the domination that he loved to exercise over me. “I’m sorry,” I mumbled meekly, glancing up at Miss Conaway through my dark lashes. “Sometimes an apology is not enough!” Miss Conaway exclaimed. “What assurance do I have that this won’t happen again?” “Yes, I understand your point,” said my husband. “Brandi, go get my paddle.” “What?” I exclaimed in disbelief. Miss Conaway practically snickered with delight, still squirming as she rubbed her horny pussy on the edge of the chair. “You heard me. I want to make sure we don’t have another incident like this. It’s one thing for me to catch you misbehaving, but when your bad behavior is pointed out to me by the entire neighborhood . . .” “But . . . you’re not going to spank me? Here? In front of--?” I sputtered. “You’re stalling, Brandi,” he said in a sing-song voice. Then more harshly he added, “Miss Conaway needs to see that you are paying the price for your offensive behavior. Now go get the paddle, before I have to double your swats. Is that what you want? Twenty spanks, instead of ten?” “No, sir.” I thrust out my lower lip in a pout and rose to my feet, shooting an accusatory glance at Miss Conaway. As I left the room, I heard her say, “There’s no need for her to give ME a dirty look. I’m not the one who was exposing my titties to the neighborhood.” When I returned with the paddle, my husband took it and asked, “Are you wearing panties, Brandi?” I hesitated. I knew he would find out soon enough that I wasn’t wearing any, but I wondered what it would cost me. Sometimes he spanked me for wearing panties; sometimes he spanked me for not wearing panties—it just depended on his mood. “No, sir,” I admitted. Miss Conaway gasped. “Good. Get over my knee and assume the position.” My husband patted one of his thighs with the paddle and I lowered myself gingerly across his strong legs. Miss Conaway was sitting just across from my husband, and slightly to his right, so that she would be able to observe my bottom as it received its beating. In turn, I would be able to peek out between the strands of my long hair and watch her face. Her breath was already becoming shallower as my husband began speaking to me in that soft gentle voice, the harbinger of painful pleasure. “Where are your hands, naughty girl?” he asked me. “Flat on the floor, sir.” “And your legs?” he asked, sliding the paddle up under my skirt and tapping the insides of my thighs. I spread my legs wide, wondering if he was going to spank me through my skirt. My question was answered when I felt a gentle tug on the hem of my dress, and the cool air wafting across my bare bottom as my husband exposed my firm round cheeks for Miss Conaway to see. I heard her quick intake of breath at the sight of my fleshy buttocks framing the moistening pink sex between my legs. “Now, Brandi, you’ve been a bad girl, haven’t you?” he asked mildly. I allowed myself a small sniffle before mewling, “Yes, sir.” “Now, don’t start whining, I haven’t even spanked you yet.” I swallowed hard and replied, “Yes, sir.” “That’s better. Now, I’m going to spank you extra hard today, because I think you need it. Don’t you?” “Yes, sir.” Once again, in agreeing to be punished, I had relinquished all control to my husband, and in giving him that power, I set myself free. Then he landed a smacking blow on my bottom, and I yelped in surprise. “Did that hurt?” he asked. “Yes, sir,” I sobbed. “Good.” I couldn’t see his face but in my mind's eye I could see his lascivious grin. The second smack was harder, louder, and seemed to be delivered in slow motion. “Notice how her bottom jiggles, Miss Conaway, when the paddle strikes it?” He spoke to the neighbor as if I were some sort of exhibit in an anatomy classroom! “Yes,” she croaked hoarsely. “Lovely.” With the next three smacks, I wailed loudly and begged Daniel to stop. I reached around with one hand to caress my burning butt cheek. “Ah-ah-ah,” he cautioned. “That’s two extra swats, Brandi. Where are your hands supposed to be?” “On the floor, sir,” I whimpered. “That’s right. Now PUT them there, and KEEP them there!” He punctuated his words with two scorching whacks on my butt, which was now feeling like fresh meat that had been through the tenderizer. “Yes, sir!” I cried. “You, see, Miss Conaway,” Daniel stroked my bottom lightly with the paddle and again spoke to the lady seated nearby, whose face was flushed. “You see, when I punish Brandi, she knows that I’m doing it for her own good. Don’t you, darling?” “Yes, sir,” I moaned, wishing he would get on with the paddling and skip the play-by-play. “But I also do it for my good. I need her spankings as much as she does. It’s a symbiotic relationship—my dominance, her submission—and we both receive a great amount of satisfaction from it.” “Yes, I can understand that,” said Miss Conaway, licking her lips greedily. She clasped her hands in her lap, but I knew that she was itching to get at my bottom with those smooth, delicate hands. “I believe you do,” said Daniel. “Now, how many swats do I have left?” “Five!” blurted Miss Conaway, and I had to pretend to cough to cover my outburst of laughter. She was so eager to see my sweet, sexy bottom punished. “Ah, yes, five,” said Daniel. As if he didn’t know! He had never lost count, in all the years he’d been spanking my ass. “Count them out and thank me for each one, Brandi.” He landed the first one on my right cheek, just above the thigh. “One!” I screamed. “Thank you, sir!” The next one went just opposite that one, on the left side. Daniel was nothing if not symmetrical. “Two and thank you, sir!” I exclaimed. Now my bottom was really burning, and I couldn't remember why on earth I had thought this would be fun. I just wanted this spanking over with. It took all the strength I had to keep from pulling my legs together, knowing that the next spank would surely be in the middle. And I was right. On the third spank, the edge of the paddle caught my tender pink pussy, and I cried out in delicious agony, “Three, sir, thank you, sir!” “You see how obedient she is?” my husband, now becoming breathless himself, demanded of Miss Conaway. She giggled, “Oh, yes, it’s working very well!” Then the paddle arced up from beneath like a prize fighter's uppercut, lifting my hips off of Daniel's thigh and making my toes bounce on the floor. I could feel the wet juice from my hot pussy trickle down my thighs. “Look at her bottom jiggle!” cried Miss Conaway, now lost in the delight of my embarrassing punishment. I validated her pleasure with, “Four! Thank you, sir!” and my husband chuckled, a rumbling sound from deep within his chest. “That’s my good girl,” he said, and landed the final blow, an excruciating wallop that rocked me forward on his lap so that my clit rubbed hard against his thigh, almost making me come right then and there. “Five!” I shouted in joyous agony. “Thank you, sir!” In the quiet room, I could hear Miss Conaway breathing rapidly and felt my husband’s thighs tense beneath me from the exertion. “Now then. Are you going to behave yourself, Brandi?” He reached down with one hand and peeled the bodice of my dress away from my dangling breasts, groping and kneading my bared titties, pinching and rolling the nipples roughly between his thumb and forefinger. “Yes, sir,” I whimpered, thankful that my spanking had finally come to an end. “You took your spanking very well. Don’t you think she did, Miss Conaway?” “Oh, yes,” the woman sighed. “I think she deserves a little reward for that,” said my husband. My pussy began to cream instantly. My husband knew when I needed a good spanking. He also knew what I needed after a good spanking. He slid two fingers easily into my sopping wet cunt and began driving in and out, in and out. “You’re dripping wet, Brandi.” It was one thing for Miss Conaway to witness my bottom being spanked, but knowing that she was now seeing my pussy being fucked was a new and thrilling sensation. My juices were dripping freely, my pink wet pussy was exposed to her, spread out and swollen as my husband rammed his skillful fingers into it, and there I lay, my bare, red, glowing bottom in the air, over my husband’s knee, completely vulnerable and exposed and there wasn’t one thing I could do about it. In fact, there wasn’t anything I wanted to do about it, except reward my audience by obediently coming all over my husband’s hand. And that is exactly what I did. I rocked back onto his hand again and again, letting the fabric of his trousers rub my clit while his fingers rhythmically probed the wet walls of my cunt. While he cooed and coaxed me with sweet affirmations, such as, “That’s what my sexy girl wants, to be finger-fucked like a little slut over my knee,” my pussy tensed and convulsed, winding up, up, up, tighter and tighter, until finally, I wailed like a wild animal, letting my cunt grip his fingers the way my mouth had gripped his cock. When my orgasm subsided to delightful little tremors, I lay as limp as a rag doll over my husband’s knee, while he rubbed my bottom gently, muttering, “That’s my good girl. Now what do you say, Brandi?” As always, I thanked him for my spanking, and added, “Thank you for letting me come, sir.” “I think you need to apologize to Miss Conaway,” said Daniel, as he lifted me from his lap and settled me to my knees on the floor beside him. Miss Conaway waited breathlessly, leaning back in the chair and relaxing her knees so that her slender milky thighs spread slightly. I kept my head respectfully lowered as I turned to Miss Conaway. “Please accept my apology, Mistress,” I said. “I forgive you, little pet,” she said, gently stroking my hair. “But if it happens again . . . “ My nipples poked out over the top of my bodice, which was now almost down around my waist. I knew that those creamy globes with their mauve centers presented a delightful vision to the lovely Miss Conaway, and curious thoughts floated unbidden into my mind. I found myself wondering what her nipples looked like. I even found myself wondering what her pussy would taste like. Ah, well. Perhaps I would find that out another day. Readers: Don't forget to vote—it's easy! And e-mail feedback is nice, too. Thanks, Sabrina