3 comments/ 31909 views/ 1 favorites Enough By: mayapapaya You just never know, do you, when you're gonna run into your so-and-so - a bad date you'd rather forget, a one-night stand that had no follow-up, a crush that didn't take hold, a former co-worker you never got along with, whatever. San Francisco is simply too small of a city to avoid these inevitable - and for the most part, unwanted - path crossings, and it's happened to me enough times now that it probably shouldn't surprise me anymore. The thing is, though, I'm almost never bumping into someone I actually want to bump into, which makes me a little wary, I guess, of what it means when it happens. I'm not quite sure what to make of it, for example, when a casual walk down Valencia Street turns into a reunion with Victor, a man I met and dated for maybe two weeks when I first moved here, eons ago, at the age of 23. Or when a drive to the Panhandle for some afternoon hoops unearths the reemergence of Michael, also a remnant of my dating history. I'm thinking, what is the purpose of my running into these guys, as if there is a purpose, as if our mutual appearance at a particular cross-street at a particular hour is Mother Nature's way of telling me something significant...but I'm not sure what it is. The easy answer, of course, is that I'm supposed to get some sort of vision of the person I am compared to the person I was - I do, after all, seem to rediscover, by the perspective I typically gain during this time gap, just how far I've come from these relationships, however long. And so I use the reunion, unpremeditated and accidental though it may be, as a kind of personal gauge, like wow, isn't it great that I don't date someone like that anymore or shit, I was so young then, and too bad I didn't know better than to be taken in by the affections of men who, ultimately, couldn't cut it in the maturity department. I try, with my east coast sensibilities and west coast vocabulary, to navigate these run-ins rationally, to distinguish between fate and coincidence, to see the situations for their fictional and non-fictional values. It's always a great story to tell, of course, a you'll-never-guess-who-I-saw-yesterday jaw-dropper that gathers an attentive audience from your friends. And I appreciate the thank-goodness-that's-over part of things, the evidence that I was not crazy or heart-sick enough to actually stay put with any of these people. But I can't help it, there's a mystery to these spatial collisions that I can't quite ignore. I feel like I'm always on the verge of these intersections, living in this city as I do, and yet of course I can't prepare for them at all, can't prepare for the gush of activity - outward and inward - that erupts out of me when they happen. Unwanted or not, these fluke circumstances beg so many questions - why now, why this person, why me, what is it about this moment in time, in the universe or Universe, that would coerce a reunion, and what am I supposed to do about it? And so I'm in the plant store on a weekday afternoon, whooshed in by a friend shopping for a housewarming gift, not thinking about any of this of course, which is the point, and while Hilary is in the back pricing cacti, I'm checking out the orchids, thinking about what it might take to make them last, wondering if I could be responsible enough to do the regular watering, find appropriate light, if I could follow the instructions to see them through their blooms again. Then the door chimes cheerfully, announcing the entrance of another horticultural enthusiast, and I look to see who it is, just like I normally do, observing citified note-taker that I am, and my heart, my heart takes a sudden, precipitous dive. And all I see, mind you, is the back of this customer, or more precisely, her haircut, that's it, nothing else, but that's enough to send my blood into a tizzy, the haircut looking identical to that of a woman I used to date. Well, "date" is not quite the word, it's way too generic and lifeless and unevocative of what my feelings really were. I was smitten, that's what, carelessly, ludicrously smitten. And I mean flush-cheeked-and-breathless-writing-poetry-again kind of smitten, that's how bad it got. I was surprised - well, no, that's not the word either - I was unprepared for this, would not have guessed that my guard would have come down for a woman, not having been down that road before you see, but that's another point and another story and I'll spare you the details for now. The point is that I'm here in this plant store with a haircut that may or may not belong to a woman I fell for, and this sets off a dubious but nevertheless potent chain reaction. Because I'm moving away from the orchids now, reaching my gaze past the insinuating ferns, and looking, no gawking is more like it, gawking at the rest of this woman's body as it's turned away from me. And it keeps going, the haircut unfolds into set of limbs and a shoulder bag and urbanly hip shoes and it's the same - from the back at least - it's a twin, a double, a mirage of the woman I knew, and my heart is pounding just like it used to, it throbs there in the center my chest as a salesgirl hovers nearby probing a collection of potted chrysanthemums, and my lungs quicken their staccato. I inhale deeply, as if on instinct, trying to catch a clue, a scent, the scent, trying to figure out - by pheromone alone - if this is her, if this is her again, in the flesh, perusing houseplants. And she turns, the woman in the haircut, she turns to me and it is practically her, almost almost, same large, innocent eyes, same plum-red lips, same slim, angular bones jutting out, dancer that she was, and the ambiguous virus of her memory strikes me full force, pummeling my body. Everything bleeds out of the store in an instant - the orchids, my friend and her cacti, the saleswoman and her chrysanthemums, the heated moisture from the overhead sprayers - and it is just me and this almost-but-not-quite replica of a woman I wrote poetry for, for God's sake, and I'm dizzy with question marks again. It amazes me, of course, or bewilders me, perhaps that's a better word for what's happening, for what always happened in the presence of that woman when I knew her, how susceptible I was to even her most minimalist gestures, how her Mona Lisa smile could make me blush all night, her shy touch turning my insides inside out. How just her voice on the other end of the phone, the alto caress of it, would send me to the moon sometimes. I was on the verge of loving her, I suppose, and fell, as if under the merciless spell of a Siren, fell into the perilous state of something in between lust and addiction, and not caring because I was loving every adrenaline reward of it, loved how everything around me was pulsing with the same wondrous chaos as my insides, loved the minutest pleasures of our sleep, her breath at my bare shoulders, my thumb tracing, abstractly, the curve of her hipbone. And then who knows what happened but something did, something interrupted us, she left me unexpectedly, prematurely, just a few short months after we began, just as I was heating up and bursting with verse, she drifted away silent and stoic and then completely out of my reach, claiming she wasn't ready for next steps, wasn't ready for me entirely, and my insides, inside out as they were, violently protested her retreat, and my heart, untrained in the language of rejection, stayed raw and defenseless but enormously disobedient, ticking away frantically for answers. And because of this, something just kept on living despite it all. And this visitation in the store now, a spectre of my past housed in this near-twin, collapses - in a fraction of a second - the time and distance marking our dissolution. Three years, I'm talking about, three years shaved away in the blink of an eye. Three years since I last held her body at night, three years since her palms cradled the small of my back as I kissed her, recklessly, to sleep. Three years since my skin, those mornings after, was imprinted with that mesmerizing sandalwood. Three years and is it possible that all it takes is a haircut walking into Plant-it Earth on a Tuesday afternoon? And it's not even her, this is not even her I'm feverishly clinging to but the apparition of her, a phantom with a razor-cut black bob and I'm shivering again in the same stubborn, impish hope I kept circling myself into back then, trying to convince her otherwise of her departure. But what am I hoping for, exactly, now that fate or coincidence or Mother Nature has stepped in and is biting me in the ass again? Remorse? Restitution? I have no idea what I want of this person, no idea that if this really were her I'd want her back, impossible to say that I am still the same and the she's the one who's changed, ready now, and willing and able. But say if this was true, if this was true, what would I want then? Yes, of course I want this to be her - some still woundless, still reckless part of me anyway - wants this to be her in this random little plant store we both happen to be in, want it to be her face that lifts in slow, slow motion, want it to be her gaze meeting mine, want it to be her eyes widening, momentarily, in the astonished clarity that deer have, illumined by a camper's flashlight glare. And then yes, I want it to be her whose lids go slack, whose shoulders soften, I want everything around us to narrow and coalesce into the dreamy translucence of a postcard vista, and I want her to surrender to me just like I did to her. But wait a minute, I should know better, of course I should, I know I should have moved on once our connection devolved, eventually, into the near-obscurity of acquaintanceship, know I should have bushwhacked through our demise and kept going to the other side, where new things were, new people, new possibilities, I should have loved other people by now, women or men who cares, I should have gotten over it is the point, should not be susceptible still, and to a haircut, no less. I was expecting a neat, compact, stowable scrapbook of a history, pictures I could take out when I felt like it and made cooing remarks over. I was waiting for a scientific formula I could plug into this dissatisfying non-ending of an equation so that I could make it make sense. I assumed there was a ratio of exact proportions I could use to determine when it was, precisely, that I'd be done with this ever-so-tentative crawl to the light at the end of the tunnel. I had wanted my heart retrofitted to withstand the seismic rumblings of desire wintering without warning. I thought there'd be a brief, cynical moment when I could swing my sadness on a "Life's a bitch and so is she" and hop off into the next big, wild adventure with a willing co-conspirator. I thought I was over her, I did, or at least over her enough not to swoon anymore, not to lose my shit at a mere silhouette, but maybe it's just one of those things, and maybe she's just one of those people, someone I almost ran into but didn't, someone I wished and also never wished I'd run into again, someone I'm forever running into in some form or another, who knows, but I don't get to choose, that's the point of this particular near-collision, there is no cleansing dismissal, no simple shrug of the metaphorical shoulders and an "Ah well, people are people" sigh, no picture-perfect chapter ending, and that, dear reader, is the lesson. That's all I get this time around anyway, amid the tumult and verdancy of Plant-It's in-house vegetation, that's about all the closure I'm allowed, because the door chimes again and I turn to look and she is gone. Gone. And it is just me again, me and the orchids and the attendant what-ifs of their blooming capabilities in the less-than-perfect climate of a perpetually chilling San Francisco. And I'm wondering if I really do have what it takes to make it work, if my apartment has the right light and heat and moisture and whatever else I need for these delicate plants to survive my very amateur green thumb. I'm wondering if there's a genus or a species of plant more hospitable to this city's deceptively temperate weather. I'm wondering if maybe there's someone out there willing to bend just a little for me, to accept my nourishment and reward me with bloom, again and again and again. There's a stir and rustle from the back of the store and Hilary, triumphant, swaggers to the front counter under the weight of a small ficus tree exclaiming, "This is it!" and I snap out of my orchid reverie. I smile at her and then turn and look out the window where a woman with a razor-cut black bob was a minute ago. It is a strange sort of gaze, really, and I'm feeling strange so I guess it makes sense. Wistful. Tender. Reverent. And, somehow, relieved. It wasn't her. It wasn't her. She was and she wasn't enough. Enough I wanted him. I could see him sitting there, across the bar, smoking his cigar and looking widely disinterested at the typical goings on. He was a stranger to the area. I was local enough to recognize that much, his leather vest over a plaid flannel shirt, worn blue jeans and cowboy boots. I licked my lips at the sight of the boots. Jason was there with me, following my eyes as it was my turn to shoot and I hadn't done so yet. We are very competitive when it comes to pool, that is, unless one of us gets distracted. "You can either drool at him all night or you can go over there," Jason said casually as he leaned against the table. "Either way, it's your turn to shoot." I nodded and pulled my eyes away long enough to make the shot. I missed. "Go." He put a hand on my shoulder and pushed me forward. I handed him my cue and left him behind. Jason and I had dated a while ago. It just happened to wind up that we made much better friends than we did lovers, although that didn't stop us from indulging every now and again at a weak moment. I was having a weak moment but it had nothing to do with Jason. It was mid-way on my way over to him that I realized I had nothing to say. I wasn't good at hitting on men and I could tell that tonight was going to be one of those nights that even my meager recourses left me. I continued to walk, however. He noticed me as I stopped a few feet away. Somehow, I got up the courage to walk over to him and although my tongue felt as though it had been tied in knots, I managed to speak. "Can I buy you a beer?" This line is especially brilliant since he already had almost a full bottle in hand. "Sure." He downed some of his bottle and set it aside. "Sit." I did so, rubbing my hands on my blue jeans and looking around. Familiar faces ignored me per usual, the only eyes upon me belonged to that of Jason, who was doing his damnedest to look disinterested as he knocked the rest of the balls into their slots. "I'm Logan." He offered his hand and I took it. "Jenna." I replied, shaking his hand, trying to seem cool and failing miserably. "I want to get out of here." He paused for a moment and then motioned to the door. "Then leave." "I want you to come with me." He nodded in Jason's direction. "Won't your boyfriend get mad?" "He isn't my boyfriend." I responded automatically, the answer actually prepared for the question that was always forthcoming. "Okay." He rose to his feet and I to mine, my heart beating a mile a minute as we passed through the crowd and to the main doors. The night air was cool, but not crisp, and the stars out in full array. Being in the country did have its benefits. I kept walking and he kept up along side of me as the Pipeline disappeared behind us. "You know what you're doing?" He asked me as we walked. "Yup." It was a straight answer. I did. I had never done this before but I did know what I was doing. I'd heard of other people doing this and now it was my chance. I led him out back, to the quiet and dark lot where the cars were parked. "This way." He grabbed my hand and led me to his truck. The bed of the truck was shielded from the sky by a raised cap in back and I could see that it was outfitted for sleep. "You want this?" He asked me, giving me my last out. "Yeah." I put my hands on his vest, bunched them up tight, and pulled him to me. I kissed him hard and long, the best way I knew how, my tongue playing with his. He tasted like smoke and beer. I imagined I tasted much the same. His hands found a home on my hips and pulled me closer to him, rubbing his erection against my middle. I kept kissing him, doing my best to impress him with my skill. His hands found their way to my breasts, muscular fingers with thick knuckles caressing, kneading, and teasing. "Enough." He breathed against my ear. I didn't need to be told twice. I spread my legs and did a bit of rubbing of my own, teasing him. I could hear him growl as he broke the kiss and put his hands on my ass, helping me push myself backwards underneath the rim and into the padding. I started to kick off my own cowboy boots and move my fingers to my blue jeans, struggling to remove them as well. I looked up to see his hands going for his own belt. I won the race, having been given a head start, and kicked a leg of my jeans free. That wound up being all we needed. He put a hand to my crotch and groaned as he felt my wet underwear. I gritted my teeth and swore under my breath not only at his touch but upon realizing I'd worn the pair with daises. Who the hell tries to seduce a man wearing daises? Thankfully, he didn't seem to notice or mind. Instead he thrust his finger inside of me, sliding in on my wetness, and it was my turn to moan. He worked it back and forth, thumb riding my clit, and I felt my first orgasm build. The free hand was on my breast, freeing it from my button down shirt and bra to suck upon the nipple. He was far from gentle. I was in heaven. The flooding that began must have triggered some primal switch because he freed his dick and was teasing me with it. I couldn't see it and I suppose that wound up being for the best because I had no clue of his size until he started to rub, and then enter me. Even though I was wet, it took him a bit to work it in and he growled the whole time. I did what anyone would do when being attacked by an animal you can't escape; I laid there and let it go. He finally worked his head in me and took a deep breath... he pulled up his shirtsleeve and I found my mouth full of flannel. "Don't make a sound." With a quick thrust he was inside and the sound he didn't want me to make almost escaped the cloth. Tears streamed down my face as the pain set in, the burning sensation, and I could feel myself go dry. I had never been so full. I can't explain the pressure upon my flesh imposed upon by his tool. I thought childbirth had to be easier. "Come on, sugar." He worked it in and out, and to my surprise I grew wet again. I was further mystified when pain turned to pleasure and I became wet once more. As he thrust I found myself moaning into that shirt and when he removed the flannel to kiss me I licked my lips and had at him, my arms reaching around to hold him, my legs spread eagle, feet in the air. He pulled me down more, raised my legs, and got in deeper than anything had ever been before. I felt him bottom out at my cervix and winced with the sweet pain. Nothing before or since has ever felt so good. I was drenched once more, my legs spread as far apart as possible to allow him maximum entry as he slammed himself into me again and again. My nails worked their way under his shirt and I scratched the hell out of him. We reached climax at roughly the same time, he growled as he let go and I could have whooped for joy. When we were done he eased himself out of me and I could feel the cum dribbling out from between my soaked legs. He shrugged out of his vest and handed me his shirt to clean myself up with. I did so, not looking at him, not looking at much of anything. When I was done I noticed bits of blood but nothing serious. I tried to hand it back to him. He shook his head. "Keep it, kitten. I'll come back for it later." He zipped his jeans up and took a moment to wrap an arm around my waist and pull me to him. The kiss was long and slow, so deep I had to grab his shirt with my free hand. I felt like I was falling. "I'll be back for you too, sugar." I stumbled away when he let me go and he walked around to the cab, shirtless, moon drenching his muscular back and tight ass. He got inside, started up the engine, and I had to step away to let him pull out. He backed up until he was even with me and looked me straight in the eye. "Stay safe." He pulled away and I stood awkwardly in a cloud of exhaust, tasting it and him upon my lips. When I returned to the bar alone, Jason was waiting for me in one of the booths. "So, how did it go?" He looked me over, raising a brow at my disheveled appearance. I set his shirt on the table and ran my hand across it. "He'll be back." Enough? "You are going to let me up, right," said Brian. Becca looked down at him with a mischievous grin, "absolutely." "How long have we known each other, since third grade?" Brian had always cared for Becca. Even when they were funny, skinny kids, their teeth in braces, living next door to each other in the Charleston neighborhood. They had done everything together. They played baseball in T Ball league. They went skinny dipping in the stone quarry when they were ten. They played jacks and skipped rope together. At twelve, they both got grounded, after Brian's Father caught them playing "doctor" in Brian's boyhood tree house. Now, after college graduation and Brian returning to his hometown, they had run into each other in an adult erotic bookstore. "Brian, is that you! Becca, you look absolutely fantastic, Brian gasped. Brian noticing the generous feminine curves of his old playmate, questioned, Becca, are you married? Kids? Brian, I'm divorced. You didn't know him. You wouldn't want to know him." How long were you married? Remembering the pain and the darkness, Becca said, it was two really long and painful years. "Brian. Are you married? No, college took all my time. Hey, let's grab some lunch, okay," questioned Brian. Brian hoped that Becca would say yes. Man was she gorgeous he thought. Okay, Becca responded, let me pay for my stuff and I'll meet you outside." At lunch, Becca told Brian about Phil, her ex-husband. "He put me in the hospital once and that was enough, she said. But that's all over with. Hey, I want you to meet my roommate. You'll just love her. Follow me home." As Brian was following Becca through the old Charleston streets, his mind wandered at what he had seen and heard at lunch. Becca's light reddish brown hair was short, cut close to frame her gentile bone structure. It appeared shorter because of her long slender neck. She had worn a frilly halter-top, which accented her generous but not pendulous breasts. A tiny waist and flaring hips capped the obviously strong legs, that Brian saw stretch the beige cotton shorts. A tingle in his crotch reminded him just how sensual, Becca was. He had thought of her from time to time, wondering what she was doing, who she was with. They hadn't seen each other since high school. What was she doing in the bookstore? he thought. As Becca pulled onto a stone driveway, Brian thought, "I wonder if she's seeing anyone. She'd have to be, as luscious as she looks." "Come on in and grab the sofa, Becca said. I'll get you a glass of wine and see if Mona is here." Brian sat down on one end of the sofa and took in the view of the dense woods, behind the house. Even though the entire wall was glass, the tinting gave a smoky cover to the wooded area. The room, like the house was in soft pastels. "Mona's not here yet, Becca said, as she handed Brian a glass of wine. Brian drank the wine as he drank in the beautiful vision in front of him. Brian, I've always loved your eyes, they're the deepest green." As Becca traced her finger down Brian's jaw line, she put her wine glass down and looked into Brian's eyes. Despite the refrigerated air in the house, both Brian and Becca could feel the heat that was radiating from each other. "Becca," Brian whispered as he bent forward, tasting Becca's lips, ever so slightly. Becca's hand went around Brian's head and pulled his mouth tighter on her own, and slipped her tongue into Brian's mouth. Exploring his teeth and tongue, Becca, inhaled deeply and dropped her hand down onto Brian's leg. Brian brought his hand up, cupping Becca's firm breast, stroking her back gently with his other hand. As his cock began to grow, Becca unzipped Brian's jeans and reached in, freeing the member so that it could extend its full length. "Good Lord Brian, I don't remember this monster," she gasped as she measured its length with her fingers. She couldn't get her hand completely around the base, close to Brian's balls. "Becca, we didn't get to finish our examination when we were playing "doctor."" Becca slid down to the floor in front of Brian, unclasped his belt. Tugging, Becca pealed Brian's jeans and shorts down and off his legs. "Brian, it's a foot long," Becca, exclaimed. "Becca, you were never good at math," he grinned. It's only nine and a half inches. Becca wasn't listening. She had captured a large hanging testicle with her lips and sucked it gently into her mouth, caressing it with her tongue. "Oh God" gasped Brian. Becca let the object pop from her mouth and licked her way up and around Brian's cock until she was at the top. A glistening pearl of liquid was perched on the tip. As she touched it with her tongue and pulled back, the liquid stretched the distance between her tongue and Brian's dick. Quickly, Becca closed the distance sucking in the liquid as her mouth closed tightly over the tip of the penis in her hands. Sucking and nibbling she heard a deep, long moan escape from Brian's lips. "Not too much, too soon big boy," she laughed as she stood up. Pulling down her shorts and panties, Brian could only stare at the prominent mound of firm flesh covered with a thin wispy reddish brown cover. His hands encircled the firm flesh of Becca's bottom and began to pull her toward him. She held her ground and lifted her top over her head releasing the most beautiful set of feminine breasts Brian had ever seen. Dusky dark areolas surrounded the longest, thickest nipples he had ever seen. Brian's balls began to hurt under the strain of wanting release. Quickly, he pulled his shirt over his head and gasped, "Where is the bedroom, Becca." "Brian, I want to do something with you. I want you to lie down on the bed." With a quizzical look, Brian lay down on his back; his manhood sticking straight up likes a periscope looking for quarry. Becca reached down next to the bed and brought out the sack from the bookstore. She pulled a pair of glistening stainless steel handcuffs, lined with deep dark violet velvet. "I want to cuff your arms, Brian. I won't hurt you. If you don't like anything, just say, "enough" and I'll let you up. "Please Brian?" "You are going to let me up, right," said Brian. Becca looked down at him with a mischievous grin, "absolutely." "How long have we known each other, since third grade?" Quickly, Becca snapped the cuffs on Brian's wrists and anchored them with leather thongs to the corners of the headboards. Fluffing a goose down pillow behind his head, Becca slipped a stiff foam pillow under his back, as she ordered, "Brian life your butt for me, sweetness"! With silk scarves she spread Brian's legs and tied each ankle to the footboard and then crawled onto the bed. With a little trepidation Brian looked up and saw his reflection in a large mirror that covered the entire ceiling of the bedroom. Brian covered a substantial portion of the large bed. He watched as Becca crawled between his legs and lowered her mouth onto his straining cock. Just as Becca started to lick her way down toward Brian's testicles, "Can I play too," was heard from the doorway. Quickly Brian strained his neck and saw the most sunning dark haired brunette he had ever seen. "I'm Mona," the statuesque beauty smiled. Mona's long dark, flaxen hair framed a pretty face highlighted with piercing, bright brown eyes, flecked with gold. Taller than Becca, Mona's body reflected strength yet softness. Long graceful yet powerful limbs; Mona's body looked like a models. Quietly, as both Becca and Brian stared, Mona unbuttoned her shirtwaist dress, letting it fall in a heap at her graceful, slender feet. Without a bra, Mona's breasts were full without being excessive, cherry tipped with compact, erect nipples. Quickly, Mona peeled down the soft blue panties and joined Becca and Brian on the bed. "Well, who do we have, Becca. He is pretty and such a very long and thick toy." Becca. Looking quickly at Brian and then back to Mona looked down and whispered, "Master," this is my childhood friend, Brian. Mona reached out with slender graceful fingers and grasped a lock of Becca's hair, pulled her close to her face and kissed her deeply. Pulling back, Mona said to Brian, as she looked into Becca's frightened eyes, 'well Brian, while I am happy to meet you, I don't know if I like how you and "my Becca' are playing together, without me." Looking first at Becca and then at Mona, Brian said, in a throaty voice, "Mona, I would love to play with you and Becca together." Without a comment Mona, pushed Becca onto her back and pulled her spreading legs toward Brian until Brian's rigid cock was pushed tight to Becca's pussy, spreading her love lips with more than half of Brian's dick standing straight up, above her pussy. "Stay put until I tell you to move," Mona ordered. Then Mona, straddled her velvet thighs astride Becca's head and said, "lick me Becca, my pussy aches." Silently Becca complied tonguing Mona's sex, as Mona tugged and massaged the large, long nipples that tipped Becca's breasts. Becca licked each of Mona's dark shaved outer pussy lips, sucking each one into her mouth and then licking the velvet inner lips, savoring the aroma. Mona sighed and lowered her head. Gently and then with more aggressiveness, she whipped her flaxen hair, back and forth across Brian's cock. Snapping her head, Mona's hair stung the soft flesh around the head of Brian's cock. Small gasps of pain escaped Brian's lips, each time Mona's hair rasped across his tender flesh. Mona looked up, smiled with a slight snicker as she noted with approval, the flaming redness around Brian's cock. "Do not cum in my mouth young man," Mona ordered. Mona lowered her mouth to the flaming head and sucked in three or four inches. Closing her teeth onto the shaft of Brian's cock she stroked her head up and down to the same rhythm of Becca's licks back and forth across Mona's growing clitoris. Mona reached over to a nightstand and grabbed a tube of toothpaste. Sucking a large glob into her mouth, she licked up and down Brian's cock, from the tip down to his balls. When she reached his balls, Mona dipped her tongue into Becca's flooding pussy, sucking her clit deep into her mouth. Both, Becca and Brian, felt the ice and flame of the toothpaste on Mona's tongue. Little, splinters of flashing icy pain tempered by the warm sensation of Mona's expert tongue started Becca's thighs quivering. "Becca, you can not cum, yet." Straining, both Brian and Becca held back the release of the pressures and tensions that Mona had built up in them. "We need some lubricant on this fine male pole," Mona stated. Mona stood up and squatted down, slipping the straining mass of cock, just past her outer pussy lips. "Remember Brian. I said you could not come in my mouth; do not cum in my pussy, either"! Slowly, Mona slid Brian's trapped cock into her pussy, as far as it would go, until her pussy was tight against Becca's pussy. Then Mona began a slow, circling swaying motion with her bottom, pushing down onto Brian's cock and against Becca's pussy, at the same time. While both Becca and Brian strained against the pressure of their release, Mona bathed Brian's cock with her juices. Quickly she stood up and told Becca to stand up and turnaround. "Straddle his cock Becca." Becca standing on the bed slowly began to drop her pussy onto Brian's dick. "No, not in your pussy, my dear," remarked Mona and began to guide Brian's slippery cock to Becca's asshole. Mona wedged the thick cock head, just spreading the tight lips of Becca's anus. "Now slowly, Becca, lower your ass," Mona ordered, and suck my tits. My nipples need to be sucked Becca." Becca slowly began to push her butt down onto Brian's dick as she locked her lips onto Mona's beautifully compact and turgid nipple. "Lick them, harder now," Mona gasped. Deep moans escaped Mona's lips as gasps escaped Becca's lips, as Becca took more and more of Brian thick cock, deep into her bowels. Becca's outer sphincter stretched easily, but the inner sphincter resisted the thick monstrous intruder. Then Becca felt the "pop" of the inner sphincter releasing its grip and allowing the tremendous cock to slide deep into her bowels until the massively thick base of Brian's cock was wedged tightly against the outer lips of Becca's asshole. Brian moaned in pleasure from the tightness of Becca's ass, gripping his cock and the flaming heat of Becca's bowels and in pain from resisting the release of his orgasm under Mona's strict order not to come. Brian feared that Mona would stop the play and Brian would be left without the flooding release he craved. Mona then sat on several pillows, in front of Becca, between Brian's feet. "Eat me Becca. Suck my clit. I want to cum now," Mona ordered. While keeping as much of Brian's hot thick cock, buried as deeply as she could in her butt, Becca leaned her upper body forward, fastening her lips onto Mona's growing clitoris. Taking Mona's clit as deeply into her mouth as she could, Becca sucked as hard as she had ever sucked. Without breaking contact, Becca sucked Mona's clit into her mouth rocking her head up and down as fast as she could. Mona reached down and pulled Becca's head as tightly into her sex as she could. Brian began bucking his cock up into Becca's butt, slamming the base of his cock into Becca's asshole. Becca pushed her ass down into Brian's cock harder and harder, all the while sucking Mona's clit deeper into her mouth. Her legs quivering, her head thrust back, Mona yelled, Oh yes – now you can cum, as her own orgasm violently shock her entire body. Brian's balls and prostrate let go with a flooding, splashing orgasm which set off vibrations throughout Becca's groin, causing a flood of orgasmic spasms flooding Becca's entire being. Glistening with sheen of perspiration, Mona leaned back, resting against the footboard, she looked up into the ceiling mirror, watching Becca slowly lick the flooded pussy juices from her sex and slowly rotated her butt up and down onto her childhood friend's cock. With a smile and a wink, Mona spoke to the images in the mirror, "has anybody had enough?" Enough Glancing at his reflection in her mirror, she followed the movements of his hands. He was standing in front of the vanity in the en suite, twisting the knot of his tie into place. He was 6'5" with a muscular physique which he honed daily, for reasons of fitness rather than vanity. His disarmingly blue eyes contrasted heavily with the rest of his form. His body was a paragon of strength and dominance but his eyes were so beguilingly bright that he could look almost childlike at times. However, the twin azure pools were typically clouded by a deviant glint which burned, now, as he turned to regard her. A small smile danced over his lips. She was nearly a foot smaller than him and slim without being too skinny. Her hips bones jutted out gently and her clavicle crowned her chest. When she arched her stomach skywards and stretched her arms to their full potential, cat-like, as she lay with her head on his lap watching television or first thing in the morning as she stirred from sleep, her ribcage emerged underneath her breasts. These glimpses of her skeleton were a reminder of the fragility he loved. Even when he was his roughest with her, even during his severest punishments, he was acutely aware of her vulnerability. She trusted him to bridle his strength, he could easily cause her serious injury if he did not. She applied the feline flick which completed the black line circling her eye. Her long blonde lashes were coated in mascara and her cheeks were rouged. A look which could seem overdone on other girls highlighted her natural features excellently. She always looked elegant. It was her hair, he thought to himself, that gave her that air of majesty. Strawberry blonde: a colour that hovered between auburn and gold. Her breasts were not large but bigger than her frame suggested. The floor length chiffon dress showcased them beautifully. Her hair had been teased into loose curls and fell to the bottom of her exposed shoulder blades, grazing the midnight blue material. Turning away from the mirror, she rose from the chair at her dressing table and looked at him, seeking approval. 'You look perfect, princess.' She approached him, pride lighting up her face. The natural sway of her hips, so often mistaken by others for arrogance, had a mesmerising effect on him. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she tipped her chin upwards slightly to meet his lips. Her round-toe patent pumps afforded her extra height and they both adjusted, unused to the small distance between them. He reluctantly broke away from the kiss and urged her towards the door. The charity ball was at a prestigious hotel in central London. She peered upwards, appreciating the architecture of the building as he reached for her hand. She curled and laced her fingers through his. In the lobby, he soon acquired a glass of champagne for each of them and they were promptly accosted by various acquaintances. As they conversed, she recognised the traits that had initially attracted her to him. His voice commanded respect and his words held the attention of anybody within earshot. He was in his early thirties but possessed an astuteness that belied his age. He held her in similar esteem. Younger than him, a recently-qualified lawyer with two degrees from illustrious universities, she masked a natural shyness and presented herself to the world as independent and ambitious. Comparing this poised, engaging woman with the submissive whore that offered herself to him each night caused his cock to stir. The thought of having her suck him off and struggle to swallow all of his seed - so as not to smudge her make up - before emerging immaculate was making his cock harden. Nobody knew of their secret dynamic and they both wanted it to remain that way. Even so, the risk of being discovered only added to his desire. It was too much to bear. He leant into her ear and whispered, 'I'm going to take you into one of the bathrooms and facefuck you, you dirty cocksucking slut.' A strange, unfamiliar feeling of resistance washed over her. She didn't feel like submitting to him and the champagne had emboldened her. She wanted to test him. 'Can you fuck my cunt instead?' She replied and pulled away. He saw a look of defiance cross her face. '...Alex.' She added pointedly. He cocked his head and narrowed his eyes. He could take her question as a request, if he chose, rather than insubordination. It was the final word that cemented her meaning. In their day to day life, she regularly used his given name. He liked the way her tongue curled around the syllables. Yet, she always called him Master or Sir or even Daddy when he was asserting his dominance over her. It wasn't something he insisted on, she'd starting doing it of her own accord, but choosing deliberately to use his familiar name was a certain attempt at disobedience. He laughed. He would fuck her, he decided, but he was going to shoot his load into her mouth, regardless of what she wanted. Making their excuses, he led her to a bathroom on the second floor, to minimise the chance of disturbance. Like the rest of the hotel, they were ornate and contained several chairs and a chaise longue. Wedging a chair under the door handle, he ordered her to lie on the chaise. She did as she was told. Just as he went to straddle her, she slipped from underneath him and laughed, playfully. He raised his left eyebrow. It was a habit that made his face unreadable: he did it when he was amused; when he was surprised; when he was angry. Unsure of his reaction, she met his gaze and asked: 'May I go on top tonight, Sir?' Unwilling to let her bratty behaviour prevent his release, he granted her request. He would correct her later with a quick hand spanking. She eased her legs over his hips and glanced up to his face, checking she had permission to unzip him. He nodded, once, barely noticeably. Unfastening his trousers and shifting his boxers down slightly, she watched his cock spring free with an audible sigh. Pushing her knickers to the side, she rocked her hips forward until her thighs were astride his cock but her pussy was just out of reach. Underneath her bravado, she knew that she was only being allowed to exercise this superficial control because he was letting her. As if to remind her, he gripped her hips and forced her downwards, spearing her with his cock. They groaned almost in unison. Remaining fully-clothed was a thrill to which they were unaccustomed. Watching her chest heave under the confines of her dress, he clenched his fists to restrain himself from tearing the material away and biting her nipple. She was never hidden from him as he fucked her; a rush of exhilaration ran through him as he pictured the leaking cunt that enclosed his cock, knowing her whole body would be unveiled to him later. His hips surged upwards to invade her deeper, their moans echoed around the high ceilings. The rub of his suit on her inner thighs generated a hypersensitivity that transcended her pussy. Occasionally, a slip of chiffon would catch under her and stroke along her lips. She slowly increased the pace and twisted to gawk at their reflected bodies in the gold-edged mirror. Feeling her muscles convulse around his cock, he knew she getting close and it pulled him towards his own orgasm. 'Ask.' he ordered, huskily. She tipped her head forward and appealed to him. 'Beg.' he replied, cruelly demanding more from her, knowing she would stave off her climax until he permitted it to her. She begged in seductive pants, almost incoherently, but he denied her. 'Get off my cock and kneel between my legs, slut.' She was going to lick up his seed greedily. His refusal to allow her to cum was retribution for her naughtiness. Seconds later, she was still impaling herself repeatedly on him. A vexed hand reached up to dislodge her by force but stopped, mid-air, when he noted the glazed sheen on her eyes. Her head was thrown back, her spine arching, forcing that ribcage to peek through her skin. Her breath came in ragged bursts, interspersed with gratified moans. Her cunt was tightening like beating heart around his cock. He lay back, assessing her coolly. Anger had quelled his orgasm. As she recovered, a feeling of cold realisation engulfed her. She felt nauseous. Lowering her head, painfully slowly, she took in his face. His teeth were gritted. His eyes were hard little diamonds boring into her. His left arm struck her left side with such impact that she landed, gracelessly, in a heap on the floor. Before she was even aware of his movement, he was stalking towards the sinks on the far wall. Snatching something in his hand, she fixed her stare on his activity. Discerning what he grasped within white knuckles, she staggered to her feet, wide-eyed and panic-stricken. He turned to look at her and the decorative hairbrush, designed to complement the boudoir-style bathroom, was no longer obscured. 'No, Daddy, please...no!' she implored. Her legs were buckling under her as he began to advance. No, she couldn't take it, she would be unable to sit for the imminent meal and everyone would know her shame. She span around and jolted from the room, sending the chair toppling to the floor. She hurtled away as quickly as the restrictive dress and precarious heels would allow. Her underwear was still rearranged. He did not follow her, he would not be drawn into her absurd games. He simply returned to the party. Moving through the large ballroom, he made polite conversation with the other guests but his eyes continually scanned the crowd. He was a lion, ruthlessly hunting his prey. When they inquired as to her whereabouts, he replied brusquely that she was talking to some friends across the room. He had not seen her since she fled the bathroom but knew she remained in the hotel. He had driven and the keys were still in his pocket; finding no bag matched her outfit, she had nowhere to keep any money so he stored the cash from their joint account in his wallet. She had no way of escaping. She revealed herself nearly an hour later. As the gong reverberated around the room, signalling dinner, he felt her presence by his right shoulder. He did not turn to look at her, he merely clasped a large hand around her elfin wrist and dragged her from the room. They brushed past the streams of people pressing, in the opposite direction, towards the double doors to the great hall. She craved the presence of his protective arm as the jostling shoulders barged her but he marched in front, his fingers marking her skin with an ugly, red imprint. Leading her through the foyer and into the bitingly cold night air, the concierge barely acknowledged them - just another drunken, warring couple leaving prematurely. He didn't open the passenger door for her as he normally did. She had to struggle into the low sports car unassisted, her dress catching on her heels. By the time she had settled into her seat, he'd already turned the ignition. The second she had shut the door, he pulled away. He always drove fast but she never doubted that he was in control. Tonight, he seemed erratic. She could see the veins in his neck straining against his skin. His jaw was visibly tense. He could sense her fear as she cast anxious, sideways glances at him. 'Daddy...' She tried, in a tiny voice. He snapped his head towards her, assaulting her with a look of pure rage. 'If you say another word, I will pull over and punish you on the side of the road. Everyone will see what a dirty, disobedient little cunt you are.' The journey continued in silence. He pulled into the driveway and shot out of the car, slamming the door shut. She scurried to keep up with his long strides. He swung the front door open and headed for the living room, pouring himself a whiskey and discarding his suit jacket on the sofa. She stood just back from the threshold of the room, remaining in the dark of the hallway. Without turning towards her, he calmly ordered her to unzip her dress. Her hands slowly drifted to the her side, her left one holding the material taut whilst her right pulled the zip down, shakily. She stared at the back of his head, trying to gauge just how furious he was. 'I want that dress on the floor when I turn around.' He growled, already rounding on her, slamming his glass onto the coffee table. She pulled it quickly down over her hips and let it fall unceremoniously around her ankles. He was bearing down on her now. She involuntarily stepped backwards and he grabbed her by the throat. 'Do not try to run from me again, you little bitch.' He spat at her and squeezed her alabaster neck. He looked down at her form, clad only in lacy black underwear and heels. He could see goosebumps bristle over her skin; her throat pulsed beneath his fingers. He released her. 'Get upstairs. Now.' She complied immediately and he followed, two steps behind her. As she neared the top of the staircase, he took aim and delivered a stinging blow to her rear. Gasping, she tripped over the final step. He dragged her across the landing by her hair, unaffected by her clawing hands and breathless pleas. Once inside the bedroom, he relinquished his grip and ordered her to stand. Tottering to her feet like a newborn deer, he considered how endearing he would find this under normal circumstances. Despite himself, his cock twinged in his trousers. He studied her panting chest and parted lips. 'Take off your heels.' he ordered. She obeyed and lost five inches of height. She was back to her proper place, the top of her head in line with his clavicle. Grabbing a fistful of hair at the nape of her neck, he forced back her to her knees. 'Get your collar.' He hissed down at her. Eyes fixed firmly on the ground, she crawled towards the drawer in which he kept the toys. Sitting atop the row of paddles, whips, crops, canes and all manner of dildos was the box containing her collar. To the untrained eye, the velvet box looked as though it held a diamond necklace. She snapped it open and the collar nearly fell to the floor but she sunk her teeth into the leather before pushing the box back the drawer. She crawled back to his feet, rocked back onto her heels and lifted her chin slightly, all the while keeping her gaze on his pointed brogues. He snatched the collar from her mouth and waited for her to lift her hair. When she did not immediately comply with his silent command, he crouched in front of her and leaned forward until their noses were millimetres apart. Her eyes flitted upwards to see that the cool blue water of his irises was stormy. 'Lift up that fucking hair.' He snarled, punctuating the sentence with a firm slap to her cheek. He rarely raised his voice to her; the cold, controlled tone he used when he was angry unnerved her far more than shouting. She twisted the hair into a knot atop her head whilst he returned to his full height and buckled the collar around her neck. A nudge of her hands sent them dropping back onto her upper thighs. Her locks tumbled down her back. He seized the leash from its hook and attached it to the D-ring. Walking towards the bed with a pace that was very unforgiving for a girl scampering on her hands and knees, she prayed he wouldn't turn around and witness her ridiculous scurrying. He stopped just short and span around to look at her undulating body, tugging hard on the leash. Sitting on the bed, he loosened his tie and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. She felt like a petulant child as he prepared to spank her. The humiliation of being made to feel like a silly little girl about to be hauled over his knee made her blush. It also, she suspected, was making her wet. He demanded that she remove her bra. As she unclipped the clasp, she knew he would have her leave her knickers on. He liked to remove them slowly, after the first few slaps; initially, pulling them to just below the curve of her bottom, then to her knees before finally slipping them over her ankles. 'Bend over me, slut.' She heeded his instruction instantly. Lying prone over his lap, his cock jutting into her stomach, she knew that any remnant of the self-assurance she had felt earlier had evaporated completely. The grinding of her hipbones on his thighs as she adjusted into position, coupled with the lightness of her frame over his lap, made her consider her frailty again. It was turning him on. He wanted to punish this little, defiant bitch. He was going to have her crying and pleading for mercy. He filled with morbid delight at the thought of her thrashing arms and unintelligible wailing. His hand descended upon her barely-covered behind with a resounding crack. She bucked forward and drew in a sharp breath. His opening strikes were normally lighter and he increased the force with each blow. Tonight, he was beginning as he meant to go on. He was not going to warm her up first. Curling the leash around his left fist to prevent her head from jerking away, he rained down a series of pitiless strikes. She could feel her will not to cry breaking already. After what seemed to be an endless assault on her rear, his hand came to rest on the back of her thigh. 'Pull them down.' he snapped. Normally, he drew them down himself. He knew she would be mortified at the prospect of exposing herself to him with her own hands. She hooked her thumbs into the lace and slipped them to just underneath the curve of her bottom. A globule of wetness extended from her cunt lips to her knickers and formed, for the briefest of seconds, a single strand of spider web before splitting. A guttural breath escaped him. He growled like this when he was incensed and when he was aroused. Tonight, the noise embodied both. 'Ask me to continue your punishment.' he whispered, forcefully. She felt utterly defeated. He knew exactly how to strip her of her dignity. She would have to beg him to carry on beating her when every cell in her body was already desperate for him to stop. 'Please continue punishing me, Sir.' she murmured. 'Speak louder, I can't hear what you're saying.' He compelled, knowing exactly what she had just said. She repeated the phrase with a little more volume. He returned immediately to spanking her remorselessly. She writhed in pain, her eyes threatening to spill. He had never used his hand with such force before. 'Please, Daddy, stop...please...I'm sorry! It hurts so much, Daddy! Please!' He answered her by wrenching at her leash, the jolt causing her tears to trickle down her face. He was beginning to feel irritated by the thin slip of material blocking his view of her exposed pussy. He ripped them with one hand and flung the material to the floor. His arm was starting to tire and he knew they both needed a break before he continued with her punishment. Just as he landed the final few blows, her hands shot behind her, protecting her fiery, red cheeks. "Move those hands away! I'll decide when to stop spanking you and I'll have no input from you, you unruly little cunt.' Her hands moved slowly back to their previous position, her back rose and fell as she tried to stifle her sobs. He would spank her 10 more times, at an alarmingly fast rate. As he delivered the seventh strike, her hands clutched her cheeks once more. 'Enough.' he said. His voice gave nothing away. She wondered if she had persuaded him to stop. Her cries had never swayed him before when he punished her. She felt extremely uneasy. He nudged her off his lap with a jerk of his knee. 'Your continued defiance has only caused you further punishment.' He announced gravely. The position of the central light, the only one illuminated, meant that his bright eyes were obscured by shadow. His face looked unimaginably menacing. 'Bend over the foot of the bed.' She crawled and positioned herself between the posts of the bed, facing the headboard. The leash dangled between her tits. She could hear him opening the drawer and removing items from it. Enough Craning his head to inspect her defenceless body as his closed the drawer, he could see her pussy lips glistening with moisture. He smiled to himself. He stood behind her and traced a line around her collar, caressing her throat, until she was no longer crying. His cock rubbed her open pussy through the material of his trousers. She thought how erotic it felt, to be nude in front of a fully-clothed man. It also made her feel terrifyingly vulnerable. Standing up straight, he instructed her to put her hands behind her back before he clicked the leather restraints shut around them. Kicking her legs apart, he tied them to the posts with rough rope. 'When I tell you to keep your hands away, you will obey me. Count these for me.' She began nodding frantically as the belt sliced through the air and came to an abrupt stop on her crimson cheek. She managed to yelp out: 'One, Master!' He aimed further shots, each one hitting a piece of flesh previously untouched by the violent leather. She was able to cry out the number between whimpers. The ninth blow struck her at the top of her thigh and she let out a wail of agony before announcing 'Nine, Master!' The tenth struck her cunt. It was too much, she pushed her full weight into the bed and sobbed into the duvet. He lay his body over her back and whispered into her ear, 'Come on, pet, don't fail me on the final stroke.' He fondled a lock of her tawny hair. He listened intently to her laboured breathing. Finally, he heard it: 'Ten, Master.' she sighed. He lifted himself off her and knelt down on the floor between her legs. 'Do you think you've learnt your lesson?' he inquired, softly. 'Yes, Sir.' came the small voice. He pushed his tongue into her wet slit, extricating a surprised and grateful moan from her. He withdrew it and let it pirouette around her clit, collecting her moisture. The raw pain that had captured her body was superseded by flutterings of pleasure. She began to arch her back. Amazed at how close she was to climaxing, she whimpered: 'May I cum, Daddy?' His tongue retracted. 'I thought you had learnt your lesson?' His voice had an edge that was only thinly-veiled. 'My pleasure comes before your's yet you have found release once already without my permission and are asking for it again, without having made me cum once.' He knew it was cruel to toy with her like this, she couldn't help but react like this to his ministrations, but he had one final thing to inflict upon her. She looked at him, pleading silently but too afraid to actually speak. 'Don't move.' he sniggered sadistically as he left the room. She heard him go downstairs and quickly return to the room, carrying his suit jacket. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him retrieve something from the inner pocket. He stood to her right and observed her face. Thin black lines streaked away from bloodshot eyes. Her lower lip was bleeding from where she had bitten down so hard. He ran his thumb over it to wipe away the angry scarlet before licking it off his thumb in a single deft movement. He bent over to kiss her forehead lightly, before revealing what he held behind his back. It was made of thick, dark wood and a trail of gold flowers had been painted on the back. The hairbrush. Now that it was just inches from her face, she could appreciate just how threatening the implement was. It looked far heavier than the brush he kept in the drawer. The tears began to carve a salty path down her cheek once again. She didn't know how she would take anymore. All of her reserves of strength had been sapped. She felt broken. 'Shhh.' he cooed into her ear, kissing the lobe. 'It's almost over.' He pulled away from her and went to stand at the foot of the bed. 'When I tell you to do something, I expect your total obedience. You will not defy me. Is that understood?' She nodded. 'Answer me.' He barked. 'Yes, Sir.' She stammered. 'When I choose to punish you, you will accept it and be grateful for it. You will never, ever run from me again.' Her voice was weak with tears, 'Yes Sir, I'm so-' Before she could tense herself in preparation for the inevitable blow, it came crashing down onto her left cheek. A fire unfurled across her rear. She had never felt a pain that compared to it. She screamed. When she had composed herself adequately, he repeated the action on her right cheek. He began the process again. Left cheek, right cheek. With each blow, she thought she was going to pass out. Fighting to stay conscious, a blow landed in the middle of her rear and she heard the hair brush clatter on to the floorboards. He placed a soft kiss on each cheek. Her hands were released. He moved back into her field of vision, clutching a glass of water he must have poured downstairs and brought up with him. He sat on the side of the bed, his body turned towards her and tipped the glass up to her lips. She gulped down the liquid eagerly, tears still dribbling down her face and into the glass. When she had finished, he placed it onto the bedside table and took her face in his hands and left little kisses all over it. She felt herself relax against his sturdy hands, the same hands that had caused her such suffering. Her tears subsided as her kissed her inky eyes. He craned under her to kiss her collar and the bone directly beneath it. A contended sigh escaped her. 'I think you have one more task to perform before I release you, don't you, pet?' She nodded her head contritely as he smiled down at her. Standing again, he kicked off his shoes, removing his tie, shirt and socks at breakneck speed. His trousers were unzipped and discarded, taking his boxers with them. She looked lovingly at his toned, muscular body - warrior-like - her gaze focussing on the proud cock at his centre. He lay on the bed and it pointed up towards her lips. She lowered her head onto it, licking down the seam. Her tongue encircled the swollen shaft, flicked lightly over the head before she plunged downwards. He let out an animalistic groan. Barely avoiding gagging on his cock, which was far larger than her mouth, she flexed her head up and down. She moved her lips to his head, seeming as though she would break contact, and then pushed him back into her pursed mouth. One hand cupped his balls, occasionally grazing against the sensitive skin below, whilst the other twisted around the base of his cock. His own hands remained where they were; for once, not forcing her head down as his pleasure increased. Periodically, a sound of appreciation floated from his lips. He was nearing his peak. Sensing him tighten, she sped up her actions. His load hit the back of her throat in jets and she closed her lips tightly around him, still bobbing her head slightly, to prevent any leaks. He stroked her hair softly as she released his cock, cleaning it with little flicks of her tongue. 'Good girl.' he breathed, in a voice that almost crooned. Lifting himself from the bed, he walked around to her ankles, crouching as he untied them and letting the rope drop to the floor. Pushing a strong forearm into the back of her knees and another around her shoulders, he carried her to his side of the bed - like a groom carrying his new bride. 'I'm really sorry, Daddy...' she sighed, looking up at him. He kissed her diminutive nose. 'I know, pet.' He smiled at her, the piercing blue eyes beaming too. 'I love you.' He responded by pressing a passionate kiss onto her; breathing the same words back to her, into her open mouth. 'Turn over, princess.' he requested, placing her on her back. She rolled onto her side of the bed and lay prone on top of the duvet. Reaching for the moisturiser from the table, he placed a soft hand at the small of her back before smearing the cool liquid across her rear with the other. He took time and care, caressing every mark. Welts were already forming and he could see light violets and indigos blending with the cherry red. She squirmed a little as he rubbed tenderly and then kissed each cheek in turn. He looked at her face, her eyes already closing and an almost undetectable smile playing on her lips. He stretched over her head to her bedside table and retrieved her make-up removing wipes. As he gently stroked the kohl away from her eyes and cheeks, she half-opened her glittering orbs to regard him. He moved the moisturiser and wipes off the bed and carefully peeled the duvet from under her and replaced it over them both. He clicked the light off and pulled a possessive arm around her, gathering her frame into his chest. He gently eased his stiffening cock into her slit. Enough John Harvey looked out the window of the little prop jet as it taxied away from the small airport near his home town. He was excited and apprehensive all at once. He had graduated high school three weeks before and was now off on the adventure of his young life. Well, he hoped it would be an adventure any way. He had enlisted in the Army and was on his way to Basic Training. He was already almost homesick. He was sad from not knowing how long it would be before he could return to his home or see his family or friends once more. This was the first time he had flown in an airplane. He alternated his attention from looking around the plane and looking out the window until his family was lost to his sight. This airport was so small they still walked out on the tarmac to board so he could watch his family for quite some time. He didn't know if that made his departure harder or easier. John had enlisted just after New Year's Day a week after he caught his steady girlfriend of two years making out with Harold Pittman, one of the stars of the school football team. He had thought he and Sonia were a couple forever and was naturally heartbroken when he saw her sitting on the assholes lap in his favorite short skirt. Her blouse was thin enough he could tell she wore no bra. He had no idea how long her cheating had been going on and truthfully he didn't give a rat's ass. His first thought was to attack the asshole making out with Sonia. He clenched his jaws, balled his hands into fists and took a step closer to the oblivious couple when common sense had prevailed. He and Harold had already come to blows twice and John had come out the loser both times. He really didn't need another beating over a slut like her. John merely left the party after he had taken a couple pictures with his cell phone. He had seen enough to dump the little bitch and had some pictures to use for revenge if the need arose. Truthfully he didn't even know why he took the pictures. He was not the vengeful type at all. Oh, sure, if someone was messing with him he would retaliate and might do something in the heat of the moment that was not totally ethical. John sighed in frustration. He remembered all the tales of daring do his grandfather Samuel told him of Damsels in distress and the great rescues he was involved in. John always treated his girlfriends like he supposed those Damsels wanted to be treated in his grandfathers stories of medieval times. Sometimes he wished he could live in those times and be a Hero rescuing those Damsels. Of course they would be appropriately appreciative when he saved them from a fate worse than death. His grandfather could weave a tale that sounded so real it made him think he actually did some of the rescues he claimed to have performed. He spent hours when he was younger talking with his grandfather and practicing fighting with wooden swords and staves, clubs and bows and arrows. He fell in love with woodcraft, camping and making his own "weapons" from whatever he found to use. Always grandpa Samuel would guide and correct him, forcing him to make better weapons and to learn better ways to win his pretend fights. It wasn't because of his lack of knowledge he had always lost fights with Harold. It was mostly the difference in their size and the fact that Harold always attacked when John wasn't looking or when he had help. One of the times Harold beat John so badly it was because Harold's friends helped him by holding John. John was sure if they were fighting to the death he could win; especially if he used the Karate he had been learning the last two years. He knew Sensei would not approve of his use of Karate for that purpose however so he restrained himself once again. The next Monday at school John ignored Sonia throughout the morning. When she had smiled at him and walked toward him in the parking lot he just brushed past her. He ignored her yelling at him as he walked quickly into the school building. John leaned back in his seat and smiled when he remembered the look of horror on Sonia's face when he dumped her. The bitch had walked up to his table in the lunch room and sat beside him as she usually did. That time he had not said anything to her. He rapidly finished his small lunch and started to rise. Sonia grabbed his arm and asked, "What's the matter with you today John? You haven't said a word to me all morning. Are you still upset because my parents made me miss our date this weekend?" John glanced at her then loudly said, "I don't have anything to say to a cheating little skank like you Sonia. Just to make it official we are no longer a couple. You can run around and cheat on your new boyfriend if you want but you can't do that to me any longer." Sonia's got white then she blushed. "Why are you calling me names John? What kind of lies has someone told you about me? You know I would never cheat on you honey. I'm no slut and you know it. What did I ever do to make you say something like that to me you asshole?" By the time she was done talking Sonia was screaming at John. He even felt some of the spittle that spewed from her mouth. John tried to walk off but she grabbed him again and he felt his temper surge. He angrily pulled away from her. He then proceeded to loudly tell her and the entire room what he had seen the Saturday night before. "You remember what you did Saturday night don't you Sonia? That was the night you couldn't go on our normal preplanned date because you would be out of town? Well, you didn't really lie did you? You were out of town. I guess you were just unlucky your new boyfriend decided to take you to my cousin's party. You knew we were supposed to go to a party Saturday. I guess you never thought the party I was going to take you to was the same one good old Harold took you to. I was there Sonia. I saw you and Harold. I have pictures of the two of you." He pulled his phone from his pocket and showed her the picture of her sitting on Harold's lap and continued, "You aren't going to try and tell me this isn't you are you? Unless you can convince me of that it's all over but the crying you cheating little skank." John put his phone away then continued speaking. "If you try to make me out to be the asshole in this mess I will be one. I'll e-mail those pictures to all the people I've heard you complaining about me to this morning. I'll send them to your parents and post them on bulletin boards all over town. Now if you just let things be I'll just delete the pictures after awhile. Now, just leave me alone. I've had enough Sonia. We're through. I don't have any intention of ever talking to you again if I can help it." By the time John finished his tirade that day in the lunch room Sonia had ran crying from the room. Two of her girlfriends glared at John and called him an asshole before they followed her. Needless to say John and Sonia were not friendly the rest of the year. Unfortunately for John he went to school in a small town and all the other girls he could date either had boyfriends or were friends of Sonia's and refused to date him. Sonia would not stop harassing him nor would her friends. They all kept repeating the rumor that he was just being an asshole. They all said that Sonia had not cheated on him. Finally in desperation John printed off one of the most explicit pictures and posted it on the schools bulletin board. He also sent copies of the pictures to everyone he knew the e-mail address for that knew or was related to Sonia. When Sonia stormed up to him the next day screaming about him ruining her reputation John said, "Shut up Bitch. I told you when we broke up if you kept making me out to be the bad guy in this I would send the pictures to everyone you knew that I had an email address for. You knew what would happen if you kept acting like a little Bitch. I just did what I promised you I would do." John's revenge caused another uproar in the school and got him into another fight with Harold. This time though John was angry enough and lucky enough that he managed to break Harold's arm defending himself. That prevented Harold from playing in the final games of the football season and cost him a football scholarship to college because it never healed correctly. This, of course, just made John's fellow students angrier at him. Harold and his parents were beyond angry. They tried to have John arrested for assault. During the investigation it was found that two adults witnessed Harold attacking John so he was not prosecuted. One day shortly after the investigation was over John was just bumming around in the local pool hall when an Army Recruiter came in. He had seen the recruiter off and on for several months when he dropped into the local teen hang outs hoping to latch onto a potential recruit. Truthfully John was somewhat interested in the Army because of the stories his grandfather had been telling him about his Army time. That day John was particularly susceptible to the pitch when the Recruiter gave his spiel to him. John had just had another argument with some of his fellow students about Sonia and his treatment of her and Harold. He was angry, lonesome and vulnerable to the recruiter's line. This time he listened and bit the baited hook. The recruiter took him home and John signed the papers then had his parents sign because he was still five months under the age of 18. Army basic in the summer at Ft. Leonard Wood, Missouri was not a bed of roses as John found out. The fact he lived just a few miles south of there really didn't help him tolerate the heat and training that much better than some of the other recruits. His main salvation was that he had lived in the country on a small farm so was used to some physical activity. He also ran track at school so thought he was in good shape. He was in great shape compared to the other recruits but not so great in the eyes of the Drill Sergeant. A normal training day started even earlier than John was used to rising and ran later than he was used to. He stuck with it and finally it was over. Truthfully, John excelled in the weapons training and the hand to hand combat portion of his basic course. He was surprised at how much of the coursework he had learned from his grandfather. Of course his training in Karate had helped immensely also. John graduated from Basic as Honor Graduate of his cycle and was promoted to Private First Class. He was now ready for his Army Career. He had been selected as a basic infantryman. John decided if he was in for a penny he was in for a pound and volunteered for training as an Airborne Ranger. Several weeks after his selection he wondered two things. The first was would he survive the training. The second thing he wondered about was if he was insane or something. Finally he successfully completed the training and was posted to a Ranger unit at Ft. Bragg, NC. Shortly after reporting he was promoted to Specialist. John was now "in the money". He was making more money than he could spend and his bank balance was growing thanks to his frugality. John had the rural work ethic and was a very intelligent individual. He did his job well, he jumped when his superiors told him to and he kept himself in great physical shape and out of trouble. Promotions continued to be rapid. By the end of his first four years he was a Sergeant. His time was up and he still didn't know what he wanted to do with his life so he reenlisted. Of course the large reenlistment bonus helped him make the right decision! Shortly after reenlisting John was once again promoted. Now he was a Staff Sergeant and in charge of two squads of soldiers. He was also the assistant Platoon Sergeant. During John's second deployment to Iraq he once again decided he had enough. The living conditions and attitude of the people in that part of the world reminded him somewhat of the stories his grandfather made up about a place called Chaos. He had spent many pleasant days listening to his tales of daring do or dreaming of being one of the Heroes who entered Chaos from the mythical Crossroads. Of course in his grandfathers tales Chaos was not desert country as were Iraq or Afghanistan but the brutality he saw toward women in those countries reminded him of the way the Damsels in Distress were treated in his grandfather's stories. His enlistment ended while he was in Iraq and he did not reenlist. John was involuntarily extended on Active Duty until his unit returned to the states then he was discharged from the Army. John had saved his money while he was overseas and added it to the nest egg he had saved before. He had enough saved to buy a really nice two year old F150 Super Crew 4X4. After paying cash for the truck he still had almost $24,000 in the bank. After his discharge John took off for home and the little 40 Acre plot of ground his deceased Grandfather had left him. John had been on his first deployment when his Grandfather died from cancer. He got emergency leave to attend the funeral but had not known of the bequest until after he had returned to Iraq. John took his time driving home. He had a cover on the bed of the truck and slept in it. He took four days to drive from Fayetteville, NC to his home in Missouri. It was fall when he arrived and there was a tinge of winter in the air. It was one of his favorite seasons. He was looking forward to relaxing for a while then finding a job and getting on with his life. He planned on living with his parents until he found a job then he was going to get his own place or maybe move to his little farm. He was 26 years old and realized he would not be able to live with his parents and follow their rules after being on his own as long as he had. He needed his own place badly so he could live his own life. John's little patch of ground was only seven miles from Hollister and had several acres of old fruit trees on it. Just before he became ill his grandfather had built a nice 40 X 70 foot barn on the land John had inherited. What little equipment he had was stored inside the building. John didn't know anything else about the place other than it had no house on it. It had been only part of a larger farm his grandfather had split up among his heirs. John knew his cousin and her husband had been given the main farmhouse and another 40 acres. His brother and another male cousin each got another 40 acres. His Grandfather's two children—John's Father and his cousin's Mother were given all the stocks and money from the estate. The first few days John was home he spent relaxing and visiting with the few friends that still lived in the area. Thursday of the second week he decided to look over his land and decide what he wanted to do with it. When he arrived he drove down the same lane he always used to visit his grandfather. His barn and the machinery was only a couple hundred feet from the old farm house his cousin had inherited. He hated this because Marcie had never forgiven him for what he had done to Harold Pittman, her fiancée's friend. John's land abutted the lane on one side, his cousin's on the other so they shared the access. John parked beside his large barn and glanced around the old farmstead. It sure was run down looking. There were weeds in his grandmother's flower beds and dead limbs in and under the trees in the yard. All the buildings were in dire need of paint and repair. Someone had been mowing the yard and doing some of the lighter repair work on his cousin's part of the homestead. The weeds and brush were grown up badly around his part of the place. John got out of his truck and wandered over to the barn. It was the newest building on the place and he could tell it was still in good repair thankfully. John took the keys and opened the door into the office. It was just as he remembered it from the two times he had been inside before he went into the service. John didn't stop to look through the desk. He opened the door into the part of the barn reserved for sales of the fruit. The cash registers and displays were still in place. John saw that the display tables and coolers were there also. He looked into the small commercial kitchen and verified the range and other kitchen equipment was there then he wandered farther back into the building to the cold storage area then out of it into the sorting sheds where the freshly picked fruit was graded for boxing and sale. As John walked he touched an item here and there. He spent time looking at the machinery parked in the sorting area and under the shed roof on each side of the building. He grimaced and thought he had a lot of work to do if he wanted to operate the orchard and use the land productively once more. He thought that was what he wanted to do. He had already had enough of the hustle and bustle of Hollister and really didn't want to work in town if he could get out of it. John wandered into the corner of the building his grandfather had set up as an exercise area. He looked at the weight machines and the targets used for throwing knives. He even took a punch or two at the bags hung for that purpose. John sat for a moment looking at the doorway into the weapons storage room. He stood and strode over to the door. It was locked as it normally had been when he last saw it. He wished he had taken more time with his grandfather after he had built this new exercise area. He remembered how the weapons room had racks of old fashioned bows and arrows, staves, axes and clubs to 'fight' with. He even remembered the inner storage area for more deadly modern weapons and wondered if they were still there. He hoped he could find the key so he didn't have to break the door down. John wandered back toward the sales area. As he was entering he heard a female voice tenuously ask, "Who's there? What are you doing in here?" John walked through the sales room and into his office. He startled a small, poorly dressed young woman who was looking around as she stood just inside the door. She squeaked and jumped back when he barged through the door. "Who are you," she asked once more. "What are you doing here?" John smiled and said, "I'm John Harvey. I own this place and was just looking it over. Who are you?" "OH! I'm sorry Mr. Harvey. Marcie told me one of her cousins had been given this barn and the 40 acres it was on when your grandfather passed away." She looked puzzled then continued, "I thought you were in the Army though. She said I probably would never see you and she was going to buy your land from you." John laughed and said, "I was in the Army but I had enough of it. I got out a couple weeks ago and came home. You shouldn't believe everything Marcie says either. There is no way in hell she will ever buy my part of the farm from me. She should have known that too. I love every rock and ditch on this old place. Now, how about you tell me what you're doing here and what your name is?" The young woman looked embarrassed and said, "Oh, I'm sorry. I'm Andrea Stewart. I take care of the house and land here for Marcie. She lets me live here too." John and Andrea visited a while longer. He found out she was not paid to care for the land and buildings. She was supposed to take care of minor repairs, mow the yard and keep house in return for a place to stay. On the weekends Marcie and her family were in residence she acted as maid, cook and general coolie for them. John didn't know exactly what they made her do but knowing Marcie she worked the legs off the poor girl while she and her family were at the farm. Andrea certainly earned her free rent he was sure. Finally Andrea said she needed to get into the house and prepare for the weekend. Marcie and her family were going to be there and she had some cooking and baking to get done as well as last minute cleaning. John returned to his parent's home for the night. Early the next morning he returned to the farm and began cleaning up his part of the place. His first task was to test the battery in the tractor. It was dead so he went to town and purchased another one as well as some fresh diesel for the engine. It took him most of the day to change the oil and filters and get the tractor running. He then hooked up the bush hog and began clipping the weeds and brush growing up around the place. Enough John got tired of driving back and forth to his parent's home quickly so he bought a nice bed and a couple of chairs to put into the sales room of the building at his orchard. There were already rest rooms there that had been used for the customers. He rigged up a shower in the back part of the barn near the exercise area and cooked on the commercial stove that had been used to prepare desserts that had been made from the farm produce and sold. He got the coolers running so he could keep fresh foods. As the weeks rolled by John began cleaning and repairing his part of the place farther and farther away from the buildings. He clipped all the fields then plowed up an area he intended to turn into a garden in the spring. He could tell the trees needed pruning so he took an on line course from the University of Missouri on Orchard management. John intended to spend most of the winter pruning trees, doing maintenance and getting ready for spring, his busiest time of the year. He was sitting at his desk working on his extension courses when Andrea came storming into the office. She was crying and waving a paper in his general direction as she screamed at him. "You Asshole," she cried. "How could you do this to me? I can't pay this bill and they tell me if I don't they'll cut off my electricity and turn me over to a collection agency. How could you do it? If I get the power cut off Marcie will kick me out and I will have no place to live. She told me you were an asshole but I didn't believe her. You acted so nice then you do this shit." Andrea slumped down on an old sofa in the office and buried her face in her hands. Her body shook with her angry sobs. John turned in shock and moved over beside her. He grabbed her hand as Andrea tried to hit him. "Whoa there Andrea. What do you think I've done to you? As far as I know I haven't done anything to make you angry at me." "You had them charge me for all the electricity you've been using. I can't pay it. Sometimes I can't even buy enough food and I sure can't pay almost $300.00 for electricity. I have to scrape to pay the $90.00 or so it usually costs. You've been using a lot of electricity on your air conditioner and all those refrigerators and stuff. How could you do that to me? I thought we were friends." John felt his stomach sink. Shit. He hadn't even thought about the electricity. The power was on in the barn and he just used it. He never thought about it coming from the meter on the house. In fact he had not thought about it at all. He realized he was even using water from the house well. He pulled Andrea down into his lap still holding onto her to keep her from hitting him. "Crap Andrea. I'm sorry. I never thought about it. The power was on and I just used it. I didn't try to cheat you. I just never thought about it at all one way or the other. Now calm down and I'll make it right. Tell you what. I'll pay the entire bill this month. I'm sure some of last month's bill was power I used too. I'll also go to the electric coop tomorrow and make sure they put a meter out here for my part of the place too." John sat a minute then he looked puzzled. "What do you mean you have to pay the electric bills? You mean Marcie makes you pay the electric bill? I've seen how you live when they're not here. You hardly ever have a light on. When Marcie and her family are here every light in the house is on almost 24/7. I know they are here almost every weekend and for weeks at a time in the summer. I bet half or more of the power bill is theirs. "I know but she said I had to pay it if I wanted to live here. I didn't have anywhere else I could go and I don't make enough working in town to even rent a small apartment. I have to pay or she'll kick me out. I don't have anywhere else, don't you understand?? John sat there in shock. He knew his cousin was a bitch but he couldn't believe she would take advantage of someone like she had apparently taken advantage of Andrea. He couldn't do much about it but he still didn't like it at all. He was going to have trouble making ends meet until his first crops came in as it was. He was being careful with his savings but if he couldn't harvest and sell a lot of fruit and garden items he would have to try and find a job in town next year. In fact he was trying to find some part time work now to help with his expenses. John got the electricity bill straightened out early the next week. It was getting colder and he began cutting some dead wood to burn in an old wood stove he had installed in his living area. That would help a lot with the electric bills because he would cut down on his use of the electric heaters in the building. One cold snowy day in late December John was sitting in the office going over more of his Grandfather's files when he found a folder with his name on it. Inside was a sealed envelope. He opened the envelope and found a letter dated shortly after he left for the army. It was supposed to have been mailed to him upon his Grandfather's death according to the note attached to it but either no one found it or they elected not to send it. John read the letter over quickly, then once more slowly. For the most part the letter was only a good bye missive. His grandfather had known the end was near and said in his letter, "John by now you know I died and you inherited the 40 acres of my farm with the orchard on it. You were the only one of the family that loved the trees and caring for them like I did. Just, please, when you work with them use all the safety gear you can. I still believe working unprotected with the chemicals is what gave me this damn cancer. I would have gone to Crossroads for treatment except I am old enough I am not sure I would have survived the rescue attempt for another Damsel. Hell, I'm not sure I could have serviced her if I had rescued her. I decided my time has run its course and I am happy with my life. Now it's up to you to carry on my legacy son. "I have worked and talked with you and other members of my family now my entire life and have came to the conclusion my values, the values I grew up with and that were important in the last century just do not exist now. You alone of all the family have shown you respect confidences, keep secrets and above all keep your word. Many times I have told members of the family something in confidence only to hear others discussing that very thing shortly thereafter. I have tested each and every one of the family and to the best of my knowledge you are the only one who has never broken your word to me when it was given. You alone of all my male descendants have what it takes to become a Hero Son. If you live up to my expectations the rest of your inheritance will soon become known to you John. "As a reward for you being a man who keeps his word, on my last vacation to Colorado I took the liberty of deeding my small bit of land there to you and you alone. You remember when we used to go out there camping? I never told you or anyone else I actually owned the land we used. I never lied; I merely didn't inform the family it was mine. I always just called it my camping spot if you remember. Well, Johnnie, I'm sure you remember that land has an almost played out gold mine on it and a ghost town where you used to play. Go there when you need money son or when you become bored with the mundane life you have here in Missouri. If Jake agrees with my assessment of you he has one final gift from me for you. I used to call that little piece of ground my piggy bank because I took many dollars away from there over the years but it was more than that. Jake and I were both Heroes at one time. He passed his title to his son who died of injuries received in the performance of his duties. He alone of anyone close to us here on earth is best qualified to pass judgment on your capabilities. In any event, you will have the land in Colorado as well as the small plot here to help you maintain your sanity in this fucked up world. "Just remember things are not always like they seem. Remember those games we used to play? Remember when I used to give you riddles to solve and sent you on scavenger hunts son? For your inheritance to really pay off for you as it did for me you have to use all the skills you learned over the years. You might even need to use some of the skills you learned in the Army. If you are successful in your hunt you will find you have enough to see you through life comfortably from the orchard and from your place out west. I never really used the part of the farm I gave the other grandchildren. All my income came from the orchard and my camping spot. Most of my pleasure came from Chaos, especially after your grandmother passed away. "Remember me fondly if you will and forgive me for not being more specific about your place out west. If, or when you solve the riddle and make your first successful trip I believe you will understand. I cannot, no I will not say more in this letter in case it is read by someone besides you. I have also made arrangements for you to be contacted in the future if you do not go to Colorado and visit your land. This contact is merely to insure you are aware of your ownership. I go to my grave filled with love for you and wish you a good life. You were always a pleasure to work and camp with son. I'm sure the Damsels will love you should you find one you care to rescue." John laid the letter on the desk and leaned back in his old chair. He ignored the tired squeak of the chair as the old metal springs complained about the movement. He carefully placed his feet on the old wooden desk and locked his hands behind his head. John smiled as his mind wandered to Colorado and the times his grandfather took him camping with him. Every trip he took his grandfather seemed to take a couple of days off alone leaving John in the care of one of his many friends in the area. He remembered the stories his grandfather told him after he returned from wherever he went. That was when he was told most of the stories about Damsels being rescued and battles fought. John sat for several minutes as he recalled how he enjoyed those trips with his grandfather. He decided he would make a trip to Colorado as early in the year as he could. He would leave in early June. He thought he could take a few days off then and not neglect his crops. He wanted to visit his land and see if he could discover the secret his grandfather mentioned in his letter. From time to time over the next five months John thought about the letter and tried to figure out what the scavenger hunt his grandfather mentioned could be about. He just could not come up with anything. He was excited, frustrated, and almost angry that he did not know what he would find when he got out west. Finally his large garden was in and growing well. He had it tilled and the trees sprayed. He had at most two weeks he could take off before he had to spray crops for insects once more and till weeds out of his garden. Early one morning John took off in his truck for Colorado. He was young, in good health and immortal. He drove straight through to Colorado Springs taking fourteen hours to drive the 700 miles. He stopped for the night in a campground then hit the road once more early the next morning for the last few miles. John's land was several miles south of Cripple Creek, an old mining town that had been turned into a tourist trap filled with small casinos. It still had an operating gold mine that tourists could tour. There was even a short line tourist railroad boasting an old coal fired steam engine for tourists to ride. He arrived at his land and put the truck into 4 wheel drive for the final half mile drive into his old ghost town. The last several miles had been over dirt roads that were more and more rough and difficult to drive on. He was glad he could finally stop and relax. The small Ghost town looked picturesque. There was really not much left to indicate a town had been there. Mainly old foundations and fallen in log buildings were all that remained. There were three larger buildings that still stood and were in adequate repair. One of the buildings had been a hotel and saloon combined, another had been a general store and the third was a small cabin. The old mine site was hidden by the large piles of mine tailings on which John had played when younger. John was surprised to see a thin tendril of smoke coming from the chimney of the best looking cabin when he drove up. Shortly after John turned his truck off an old man tottered from the cabin and moved toward John. When he was half way to John's truck a younger woman exited the building and stood on the porch watching the two men. When the old man was about fifteen feet away John could see he was weather beaten. His dark skin was dry and leathery looking. His once black hair was almost entirely white now and hung in a pony tail almost to his shoulder blades. His dark eyes locked on John with a piercing gaze as he hobbled up to him. The man stopped about three feet from John and looked him up and down. He glanced at the truck then back to John. The old man smiled and held his hand out for a shake as he said in a dry raspy voice, "Well Johnnie I see ya made it. We was beginnin' to wonder if ya had got tha letter your grandpa said he was agonna have sent ya. Damn boy ya sure have growed up aint ya?" John looked at the old man as he reached out to shake his hand. He looked familiar but... John finally smiled and the old man could see the recognition in his face. "Mr. Soaring Eagle? You were grandpa's friend weren't you? I used to stay with you and your wife when grandpa took off didn't I?" "Yup boy. I wasn't sure ya would remember me but ya did. Ya're a man now so why don't ya call me by my first name. Ya kin call me Jake now boy. Mary sure did get a lot of pleasure out of ya stayin' with us. She died couple of year ago. Now it's just me and Tessa, my son's girl. They're all dead now but us. Your grandpa let us live here and watch over the place for him after things got bad for us. Hope ya don't mind none." "No. I don't mind at all. You're welcome to stay as long as you want. I just found out in December I owned this place." John smiled and continued, "I guess I've got a riddle to solve now though. Grandpa's letter didn't tell me much more than I owned the acreage now and I had to figure out what the secret was. I got the impression I needed to keep my mouth shut about things out here too." "That's right boy. Now yer grandpappy and me was good friends most of our lives. He was honest as the day is long mostly but he did have a little secret or two he kept except fer me knowin part of it. He made me promise to help ya figure it out if ya needed me to but I'm supposed ta let you work through it by yerself if ya can. Not even Tessa knows 'bout everthin' herebouts." John looked around and saw Tessa was still just standing on the porch watching the two men. He sighed and said, "Well, I guess I'll look around a little if you don't mind. It's been a long time since I was here but I can feel myself relaxing already." "Hell boy why would I mind? An if I did what difference would it make? It's your place now aint it? You just go on about yer business and if ya have a question or need somthin' ya jus let me or Tessie know. We'll be up at the house all day. She works part time at one of tha casinos in Cripple Creek but it's her day off dontcha know." John spent most of the day walking around the ghost town and up to the old mine. He walked quite a ways up the small stream that ran through the little valley also. He sat under the trees beside the little stream where he had played as a young man. The remains of the equipment they used to wash the gold from the dirt was lying in the dirt beside him. He had spent many hours here panning for gold when he was younger. He lay back in the cool shade and let his mind wander back to those better days. The sun was setting and it was cooling off when he decided he needed to get his camp set up before it got dark. John wandered back down to the old town, started his truck and moved it back beside the stream. He was almost finished putting up his tent when Tessa walked up and stood watching him. He said hello to her and continued his work. Finally she asked, "Why are ya settin' up the tent?" "I seem to remember it rains a lot of mornings here and I don't want to get my bedding wet or have to put it away or sleep in my truck." "No, I mean why aren't you staying in the hotel like your grandpa did? We always kept the manager's room repaired and cleaned for him to use. It just seemed sort of silly for you to set up out here instead of use the room inside. 'Course it's your place and ya can do whatever ya want." "I never got into the hotel and didn't think about using one of the buildings. They all look pretty run down and all so I didn't think about staying in one. Besides I noticed the hotel was locked and I didn't want to break in. Do you have a key for it?" "Yeah. We keep it locked. I guess it's still got a little stuff in it folks might wantta steal if they could. It and the old store stayed busy longer than the rest of the town and when the owner sold out to your grandpa he just up and left everything in the buildings. We used some of the food and things until it was mostly gone but never bothered with the other stuff. There's probably several dollars worth of antiques in the old town if ya wanted to take it and sell it to the city slickers." "Well, let's go look at my room if you have the key. If it's not too dusty I might just move in there." Tessa's eyes flashed and her face got slightly red. "I TOLD ya we kept the Manager's room clean and ready. Do ya think because we're part Indian we live in a dirty house or expect you to?" "Tessa I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. I just noticed through the windows that some of the rooms I could see were a little dusty. I didn't mean to imply you were a bad housekeeper or upset you ok?" Tessa glared at him and mumbled "OK". She turned toward what was left of the old town and her grandfather's house without speaking further. John followed her back toward the town. He felt himself getting hard as he watched her nearly perfect posterior wiggle in her jeans as she walked. When she turned toward her house he turned toward the hotel. He sat on the old wooden bench on its porch until she returned. She returned with the keys and John watched as she opened the front door. She led him toward a door that opened behind and to the side of the front desk. When he stepped into the room he stopped in shock. The room was almost spotless. The natural wood glowed in the late afternoon light coming in the window. It had been on the back side of the hotel and the ground sloped enough he could not see in its window when he had explored his domain earlier. The bed looked comfortable and had a homemade quilt topping it. There was an older recliner beside a table with a kerosene lamp on it. There was even a door that opened onto a separate room with an old fashioned galvanized bath tub and a chamber pot inside. There was an old cast iron coal stove for heat. The room smelled a little musty from being closed up but he knew if he opened the windows it would air out rapidly. John looked around and smiled. "This is very nice. I never would have expected this old building to have a room this nice. I don't remember this room at all from when I came out here with grandpa. We always slept in a tent and if it rained we took shelter over in the old livery stable. I did explore all the old buildings though and this just doesn't ring a bell with me." "Yeah grandpa helped your grandpa fix this room up to sleep in three or four years before he got sick with his cancer. He only used it six or eight times I guess. He was awfully sick the last time he was here when he set it up for you to own the place. I think that was the only reason he came out that time. I don't think he even took off into the hills like he usually did. This was the old manager's room but it was pretty plain and threadbare before they redid it." Enough John followed Tessa back out of the hotel and walked to where he was setting up his camp. He began tearing down the tent and to his surprise Tessa helped him. They loaded everything back into his truck and he drove up beside the old hotel. He pulled his generator from the truck and set it on the ground beside the building. He then took his camp stove (Well, a gas fired BBQ with a stove burner on it) and set it on the porch of the old hotel. He ran a power cord into the window and set up his small cooler beside the grill. He ran a light into his bedroom and was all set. The last thing he did was move his small amount of luggage inside. Tessa looked at his preparations and sniffed. "Guess we'll have to listen to that smelly noisy thing while you're here huh? People sure seem to be getting soft nowadays. Go camping with a generator, a gas stove and a refrigerator. Seems like that takes all the fun outta things. Besides, its way too much stuff ta be haulin' around." John didn't know what to say to her comment. When he was loading everything he thought it was too much but he knew he didn't want to be responsible for a forest fire. He was pretty sure he remembered a prohibition on open camp fires in the mountains. Besides, fresh meat and a cold drink really went well and he didn't want to have to run into town every couple of days for ice. He was part way to Colorado before he remembered how cold the stream was and that he could have used it to cool his meat, drinks and other perishables. Somehow though Tessa's remarks stung. That night when he stripped for bed John encountered another of his grandfather's letters. This one was under the pillow and was very cryptic indeed. All it said was "Well boy I see ya got here. If you're interested in our secret explore your favorite place to play in the morning. Do some of the things ya used to do and think about what you find and see. Remember the power of the water." John sat and thought about the message for a moment. He had enjoyed many places while he was here with his grandfather. He had always wanted to play around the mine but his grandfather would not let him do so unless he was with him. He had also roamed the town a lot poking into all the buildings. It was really a tossup in his mind what had been his favorite place. Finally he decided to begin looking around the small stream just below the mine where he had spent the balance of the afternoon. He had spent hours there with a pan swirling dirt and gravel panning for gold. He always found just enough to keep his interest. John smiled when he remembered how excited he got every time he showed a little color in a pan. His grandfather always carefully saved his treasure and at the end of the summer he gave him some money for his finds. John thought now however that he had probably been grossly overpaid for his gold. He had never found more than a flake or two in a pan. Many times there was no gold in the pan when he had finished working it. One time he had panned out a very small rough nugget. The next morning John was up as the sun began peeking over the mountain east of his land. He quickly made a pot of coffee and sat where he could watch the country wake from another beautiful night. This was his favorite part of the day and he always tried to enjoy it with a good pot of coffee. John was on his second cup of coffee when Jake and Tessa came out of their cabin carrying coffee cups. They walked over to John and they visited for a short time. Tessa was dressed nicely in black trousers and a white blouse with black bow tie. Tessa quickly finished her coffee and said, "I have to get going. I have the early shift today. I'm going to buy groceries before I come home this afternoon. Do you need anything John?" "Naw. Think I'm good for a couple more days. Thanks though." After Tessa left Jake asked what John was going to do that day. John said, "Mostly take it easy I think. Thought I might see if I remembered how to pan for gold. I spent a lot of time doing that when I came out with grandpa and had a lot of fun dreaming about hitting it big. If I didn't dream about finding gold I dreamed about all those Damsels in Distress grandpa used to tell me about. He sure had some great stories." He laughed and continued, "Guess I'll try my luck again and see if my fortune has washed down the stream yet." Jake looked at John under his eyebrows and said, "Ya never can tell what you'll find in the right place. Nobody's touched things in that old stream far's I know since you and your grandpa was here last. Keep your eyes open and think about what ya see while you're out and about boy. Never can tell what ya might find if you think things out. Life is stranger than stories and dreams sometimes." John started his panning where the water fell back into the stream after it had washed the mined ore years ago. His first few pans had nothing in them that he could see. He moved upstream a few feet and remembered to move large rocks to get at the gravel and mud under them. He remembered gold was heavy and sank rapidly unless moved by strong current. His first pan of muck this time had two small golden flakes in it. He carefully picked them up with a pair of tweezers and put them into a small bottle he had brought for that purpose. John felt the excitement build in his chest once more as he relived his younger days and his dreams of finding a vast amount of gold. John didn't work himself to death that day but then again he was unaccustomed to that type exercise so his muscles hurt by the time he decided to quit. He had moved upstream almost three hundred feet from where he had started that morning. To his surprise he had found several small flecks of gold during the day. That evening John poured his gold out on a piece of paper to look at it once more. It was amazing what a few little flecks of metal could do to a person's respiration. He didn't have the gold fever but he was close. All he could think about until he finally drifted off to sleep that night was finding more gold and what he would do if he did. By noon the next day John was far up the stream and out of sight of his little town. He was panning for his gold where a dry wash emptied into the stream at the very edge of his land. He was closely watching the dirty water in his pan while he swirled it letting a little slop out occasionally as he did so. All at once he saw a large spot of bright yellow through the dirty water. He felt his heart lurch and he carefully tilted the pan to let more water out. John looked once more. There was almost a BB sized chunk of yellow on the bottom of his pan. He moved it with his fingers. It had rough edges. John knew that movement wore rough edges off things as they rolled down the streams. Just look at all the round rocks in mountain streams and you can tell that. Now a rough edged piece of gold had either just broken off a larger piece of stone or it had not travelled far from where it had spent eons. John felt his excitement surging at the possibilities. John moved over under some trees and sat where he could see the dry wash and where he had been panning. He thought about what he had found. Truthfully there had not been much gold in the stream. He barely had the bottom of his inch diameter plastic bottle covered with the flakes he had picked up the last three days. His little nugget was heavier than all the other gold he had found combined. John rose and moved back to the stream for more work. This time he chose a spot about ten feet above where the dry wash emptied into the stream. After panning ten pans of muck in a period of almost an hour John had not found a spot of gold. He moved once more to the bank and sat contemplating things while he let his body rest and muscles relax from the strain. He sat staring at the wash then he smiled widely. John stood and walked back into the wash several feet. Near a large boulder he knelt down and dug into the dirt, rocks and sand at its base. He filled his pan and walked back to the stream to clean what he had picked up. He carefully poured what he had collected out on a large piece of tarp he always carried. He then put a small amount back into his pan and swirled. By the time he had cleaned the whole pan full of material John had found several more flakes of gold. He moved back up the wash farther and collected more then cleaned it. This collection had another small nugget in it. John walked back into the wash and followed it for several minutes. The going was very rough. After he had gone almost a quarter mile John stopped and stared. If he had not been looking for it he might not have found what he saw. Very faintly etched into a rock about twenty feet inside a small cut was a 'J'. John stood looking all around excitedly. Just up from the cut was another 'J' etched into a rock faintly with a circle and line drawn through it. John walked up the little draw slowly watching as he went. Just around a bend he saw several broken and chipped rocks. There was a lot of brush growing around everywhere. Just past the brush was another 'J' with the circle and line through it. John stopped and looked around carefully. All he could see was rock and brush. He walked toward the heaviest growth. There was a lot of chipped rock around. John dropped to his knees and moved into the brush slowly. He sure didn't want to run into a snake or anything else dangerous. About ten feet into the undergrowth John found a crevice in the rock face of the cliff. There were no small rocks in front of the crevice. There were some barely noticeable scrapes on both sides of the rock. John moved toward then into the crevice. It was just barely wide enough for him to move. About ten feet into the crevice it turned to the right. John made the turn and stopped. The crevice widened out to about four feet. What made him stop was the large pile of rock and quartz he faced. It was almost as tall as he was. He crawled up over it and saw a cave in the side of the hill. There were scrapes and marks that indicated this was not a natural formation. John moved forward once more carefully crawling over the detritus. He moved into the opening of the cave. It was low enough he could not stand. After he was inside he saw it opened out slightly. There were a couple of broken picks and an old rusty shovel laying beside a small wooden box with a kerosene lamp setting on it. John shook the lamp and saw it still had something in it. He shrugged and lit it. As the light glowed it pushed the darkness away. John could not see the back of the cave. He picked up the lamp and moved forward until he came to the end. He saw several flecks of yellow glaring back at him from the wall he faced. He felt his heart start to race. John quickly moved back to the entrance and picked up one of the broken picks. He returned to the end of the tunnel and began picking at the face of the rock. He broke off several pieces of the yellow metal and put them in his small plastic tarp. When he was turning to leave with his find he saw an old ammunition can mostly hidden near the entrance to the mine. John stopped and picked up the can to carry it out with him. He opened it and found a small rock hammer and a chisel. There was also a Ziploc bag inside with an envelope inside it. The envelope had "John" written on the outside. With shaking hands John opened the envelope. He began reading the short note it contained. "John (At least I hope it is John that finds this) you have found my secret. As you can see there is some color here in this old mountain. I don't know how rich this find is and never wanted to find out. I have taken several ounces of gold out over the years and so far it doesn't seem to be playing out. I never take much at a time for obvious reasons. The last thing we want to do is draw attention to ourselves. Besides, after you have enough to be comfortable and live well why do you need more? Another reason you are the one I hope found this John is because we always seemed to think alike about possessions and flashy living. You were like me in so many ways. Neither of us seemed to need "things" to be happy. I was always happy with my old comfortable house and furnishings and my old truck. As you grew up I noticed you didn't seem to want or need all the modern folderol other people just had to have. If you are careful you can pull enough gold from this mine to live comfortably and support your family all your life just like I did. You will have the farm to supplement your income and our other mine to hide what you take from here. If you are worthy you will have Chaos for your excitement. When you get back where you found your second hint look under where I used to sleep son." John carefully folded the letter and replaced it and the envelope inside the bag. He put the bag in his pocket, took the small rock hammer and moved to the pile of broken rock to carefully clean his ore somewhat. After his ore was cleaner he decided he had two or three ounces of gold. He carefully placed it in the envelope with his letter and moved back into the cave for more. After two more sessions chipping quartz from the cave then cleaning the gold from the quartz John decided he had enough. Besides, he was tired, very tired, and it was getting late. He carefully replaced the rock hammer and ammo case where he had found them and tried to leave no sign he had been through the brush as he retraced his steps toward his home. It was almost dark when John returned to his old town. When he turned the bend in the stream above the old town he saw old Jake sitting on the hotel porch watching him. When John stepped onto the porch Jake looked him up and down then gave a slight nod. "You look like you're worn out today John. Man wants to be real careful crawling around back in the hills ya know. Never can tell when a rock might fall on him or something. I always worried about your grandpa when he took off into the hills. Had to track him down one time. He was back in a cut in the cliff wall and broke his leg. Had a heck of a time getting him out and back home here. I'm too old to do something like that for you son." John smiled and said, "Yeah. I understand. I was in a couple of tight places today. Had an exciting time back there though. I think I'll probably be going back from time to time though just like grandpa did." "Well you be careful boy. Lotsa things could happen to a man back in there. Need to think about where you are when you take off there too. You have a lot of land here but a feller needs to know where his property is so he can rest easy about what he's doing." John sat and nodded at Jake. 'I wonder what he's saying there. Hell I know where my property is. I'm sitting on it right now. OH! I bet I wasn't on my land when I went into grandpa's mine. I better check that out. If that is someone else's land... WOW I need to think about this.' John and Jake sat and visited for several more minutes then Tessa came onto their porch and called Jake to supper. John sat and had a beer then began preparing his meal while he thought about the day's discoveries and Jake's talk. After he finished his meal John went into his bedroom. John crawled under the bed and used his flashlight to inspect the old bed frame. He didn't see anything there. He even turned the mattress over and looked for something in it. He was stumped. What had his grandfather meant when he said 'look under where I used to sleep'? Surely he didn't mean back home in Missouri? No, he had said where I found the second hint and that's here.' John lay on the bed with his hands behind his head and stared at the ceiling thinking. Wait, the old hotel was built on a slight incline. The back here was facing west and was about four feet off the ground. Could there be something hidden under this room in the crawl space? John jumped from the bed and grabbed his flashlight. He rushed out the door and around behind the building. He walked underneath and began casting around on the ground looking for a place something might have been buried. He couldn't see any obvious place to bury something. He turned the light upward and looked at the underside of the floor and the huge logs used for floor joists. They were supported every so often with an old rock pier. One of the piers was almost exactly underneath the old bed in the Manager's room. John shone the light carefully on the old pier. One of the rocks facing the inside of the building seemed to be discolored on one edge and the mortar looked more like mud than the old style masonry mortar. He began rubbing the mortar around the edge of the rock. It was mud! When he dug the mud out near the discolored part of the stone he put his fingers into the depression and gently pulled on the rock. It shifted position slightly. He pulled harder and it gave way. John carefully set the rock down and shined his light into the hole. The space hidden by the rock was about five inches deep and a foot long by maybe eight inches wide. On the bottom of the opening was a bare rock. There was nothing inside. John reached in with his hand to rub the floor of the opening to be sure he hadn't missed anything. The bottom rock moved! John poked and prodded. He tried to get his fingers into the crack between the bottom rock and the side of the pillar. No luck. John looked around for something to pry with. There! Hanging on a nail on the first floor joist was an old "church key" bottle opener. He quickly moved to it and went back to the hidden space with it. He placed the sharp end in the crack and gently lifted while he put pressure on the rock. It moved. He dropped it two times before he got it high enough to get his fingers under it. He tilted it up and shined his light into the hole. It appeared to be another six or seven inches deep. There was a small metal box inside. When John picked up the box it was heavy and something inside rattled as he moved it. John lifted the box out and opened it. Inside the box on the very top was a hand drawn map showing the town, stream and John's property lines. It also showed the wash he had gone up. Written on the bottom of the map was another note. "John I'm not positive I have this figured right but if I do by now the mine you have found has extended onto forest service land. I think the dry wash is on your land and the entrance to the mine is also but it is just barely on your land. Do what you want son but I decided not to make waves and try to get legal access to the gold. You know all the red tape we would have to go through to do that and then there is no guarantee we would be successful. I decided to only take a little at a time and pretend it came from my old mine if I was ever questioned. I've always thought the way the draw bends back around the mountain that maybe our mine is on the other end to the one you just found. I always did a little digging in my old mine when I worked the other one and once in a while I did still find a small nugget. Don't know if the law would buy that idea if I tried to give it to them but that is what I decided to do. You do what you think you have to do boy. Either do like I did and take just enough to make things easier or don't take any at all or even report the find and see what happens. I really advise you to just let things go as they are but it's your land now and your decision. Use what else you found in this old box as you see fit too boy. I always put my extra nuggets in here if I thought I had enough without them. I found the double eagles buried over in the old blacksmith shop one time after a hard rain had washed under the corner of the building. They were in an old rotten leather pouch. I sold a couple of them a time or two when I needed money but saved these for a rainy day. Grandpa" John looked into the box once more and saw eleven old gold double eagles and some gold nuggets laying on top of a piece of yellowed paper. The newest date on them was 1893. The paper had two addresses on it. Beside one address was written coins. Beside the other address was written ore. John was still looking at his find when he heard rocks rattling and saw two slender legs coming down the slope toward the rear of the building. Enough "John is that you under there," Tessa asked. "What are you doing under there in the middle of the night?" John quickly placed the box back into the hole it came from and walked toward Tessa. "I thought I heard something scratching under the floor and I came to see what it was." "John I've been on the porch watching you. You've been under here now for almost 45 minutes. Now what are you really doing under here?" "Well, I DID hear something then when I got under here I began looking at how the place was built. You know these buildings are probably as old as or older than grandpa was. This old hotel is still nearly as sound as it was when it was built. I can see why too using these old logs as floor joists. I was trying to see how they got the floor as level as it was when they used trees as joists." Tessa looked like she didn't believe John but she just said, "Oh. Couldn't you have just done that during the day?" John walked toward Tessa and said, "Yeah, guess I could but you know how it is. I was down here and got curious. Come on up to the hotel and I'll share a beer with you." Tessa frowned again and followed John to his bench on the porch. They did drink a beer and had a good conversation as well. John found her fun to talk to, not at all like many of the girls he had met up to now. She had a hard life but didn't seem bitter and didn't seem to miss many of the things most people thought were necessary to live. She almost glowed when she talked about hiking in the mountains and camping with her grandfather and father. She told him about when she was young learning how to make and use a bow and arrows and fight hand to hand like her ancestors did. John asked, "Tessa don't you get tired of living out here without hot water and electricity? Don't you want to live in town in a nicer place and modern conveniences?" "Oh, yeah, sometimes I would kill for some of the modern conveniences. I missed them terribly when Mom died and I had to move out here with grandpa. I've been here seven years now and you know it's not so bad now as I thought it was. You learn how to get by I guess. I almost freeze my ass off in the winter in that old cabin. That is when I really miss hot water and central heat but grandpa won't consider moving back to town. He gave your grandpa his word he would watch over the place in exchange for a place to live and in his mind he has to be here all the time to do the job he promised to do. Of course here is where the cabin he lives in is so I suppose it is natural to be here all the time." "Would it help if I suggested he move into town with you and just came out here occasionally? I'm afraid I can't afford to rent him a house to line in but I hate to see you both stuck out here with no conveniences." "No John. He gave his word to watch the place and he feels he has to be here to do it. All you would do is insult him if you suggested that." Tessa smiled and stood. She faced John and said, "Thanks for the beer. I have the early shift again tomorrow so I need to get to bed." John waited thirty minutes and finally the light went out in the old cabin. He carefully returned under the hotel and closed up the hole once more. He left the metal box and its contents like he had found them. He decided he would take another day to dig some more ore out of his mine then he would work in the mine near the town a day or two and call this trip over. He hoped to have enough ore to sell to get by on until his crops came in this year. After the harvest he intended to return to Colorado and see what he could mine before it got too cold to work outside. He thought he had five or six ounces of gold after it was cleaned properly. At current prices that would be $7500 or more! John spent the remainder of his time in Colorado working in his old played out mine so he could show some recent work if the need arose. He even found a couple of pieces of quartz with some gold in them to add to his stash. He spent time at the mine when Tessa was working and then found himself spending more and more time with her when she was home. He found he really enjoyed talking with Tessa. Tessa was a real down to earth kind of woman and John felt himself strangely drawn to the quarter Indian woman. She seemed knowledgeable about all types of outdoor activities that had to do with ranching and growing a garden. He saw she did almost all the garden work for her and her grandfather. They talked about hiking and camping in all weather and just generally became friends during his stay. He found himself looking forward to her return from work every day. Finally his day of departure arrived. John was surprisingly unwilling to leave but he knew he had to do so. His orchard and garden demanded his presence so once again John made the long drive home. This time he was strangely troubled. Some would say his conscience was bothering him about the gold. Others would say he was only worrying about how to hide his taking of the ore. Yet others would say he was just being silly or dumb. Take what you can get when and as easily as you can. In any event most of the drive home saw John thinking about his land in both states and what he could take from it. Truthfully, he also thought about old Jake and Tessa. There was something about Jake and some of his comments that bothered John. Jake was much like his grandfather in many ways. They both had the look and movement of warriors about them. They had both been constantly aware of their surroundings and the happenings near them. John felt at home with fellow warriors because he had been one, albeit a modern warrior using rifles and mortars that kept him farther removed from the death and mayhem he dished out. Jake spent many hours talking with John about more personal forms of combat as they relived some of the stories John's grandfather told him. John found Jake's comments and personal stories strangely realistic. Of course he knew it was impossible but then why did Jake and his grandfather talk so longingly about Crossroads and Maidens? By mid October John had completed his summer work and sold most of his small fruit crop. He didn't get rich but he increased the size of his bank account sufficiently to decide he once again had enough to live as he desired until his next crop was produced. He decided to plant some more trees and expand the size of his orchard so had spent the last few days setting new trees in his field. He planted five more acres of fruit trees by adding some cherries and peaches to his orchard. Next year he was going to plant some new apple trees. Finally John decided he was caught up enough to return to Colorado for several days to a couple of months. He wanted to see Jake, Tessa and work his mine. He wanted desperately to visit with Jake about some old journals he found in his grandfather's office. He had broken open an old welded strong box that had been bolted to the concrete floor in a corner. In it he found the journals and a strange looking ring made out of metal that appeared to be platinum with a crystal embedded in it. He remembered seeing his grandfather wear it many days at the Colorado place and later in life from time to time here at the farm. He wondered why it alone of all his grandfather's jewelry was locked in the safe. The Journals contained written accounts of fictitious journeys to Crossroads and Chaos. In them his grandfather spoke of someone he called his caretaker named Brenda Caretaker and many fictitious Damsels he rescued during adventures to Chaos. It was obvious his grandfather had dreams of being a fantasy writer from looking at the hidden work. He wondered why he had never published the stories then decided they were not good enough to interest a publishing company. John was awed however by the detail his grandfather had written into his stories. It was almost as if he truly loved Brenda Caretaker. There were even references to his grandmother accompanying his grandfather to Chaos as a Hero's Companion. Grandfather Samuel had written the stories as if they were real, as if they were documenting actual rescues and battles. John could almost feel the realism. They greatly resembled the After Action Reports (AAR) he had been involved in helping prepare during his time in the Army. They were full of "Lessons Learned" and comments about country and cities in the fictitious land of Chaos. This trip to Colorado John left home at 5 a.m. and drove straight to his town in Colorado. It took him about 15 hours because he knew the route. It was already almost full dark before he pulled up in front of the old Hotel and Saloon. He debated about whether to see Jake and Tessa before he went to bed and decided he would wait for the morning. He should have known that plan would not work however. Almost before he was on the porch of the old building he heard a noise behind him. When he turned he found Jake about ten feet behind him carrying a shotgun in the crook of his arm. Jake looked at John and said, "Boy you shouldda told me ya was comin' or at least waited for morning. You coulda got shot sneaking in here in the dark." "Sorry Jake. I never thought about that but it would have been a little hard to call seeing as how you don't have a phone out here." "You could've called Tessa at work son. We been having some trouble hereabouts since ya left. Been some rough looking fellers nosin' 'round. I've had to run them off a couple of times and once Tessa said some rough looking assholes followed her down the road and gave her a rough time." John had been working as they talked. He had moved the generator he had left outside, filled it with fuel and started it up so they would have lights to see by. He started his small refrigerator and loaded his perishables inside then sat in one of the old chairs on the porch. Just before he sat he had opened two beers and handed one to Jake. When Jake took the beer he saw the ring on John's right hand and frowned. Jake stared at John's hand and the ring on his finger and said, "You done anything interesting since ya was here last? I see ya found yer grandpa's ring an all." "No, nothing too interesting. Just worked on the orchard." John sat a moment then looked up at old Jake and continued, "Jake I was going to talk to you this trip about some of the things of Grandpa's I found this summer. I saw you looking at my ring just now. You looked surprised. I found the ring in a strongbox with some of the strangest Journals I have ever seen. I didn't know grandpa was an author but they read like the strangest fantasy. They even seemed so real. They reminded me of the old AAR's we used to prepare in the Army. I had no idea grandpa had such a vivid imagination. He mentioned you and grandma and even your wife in the stories. A lot of what bothers me is him using your actual names as if the things he wrote about actually happened. Did you know he was trying to write fantasy stories? I thought I knew grandpa real well but this was a surprise. Oh, I remember when I was younger he used to tell me stories about Heroes rescuing Damsels in distress and all but I didn't know he was writing stories about them. Did he ever publish anything that you know of?" Jake sat looking at John for several moments then said, "Boy I think there's a lot about yer grandpa ya don't know. He was a good man, a brave man. All he ever wanted was just enough to be happy and to help folks. He done that. He was a real American Hero and one of the best friends a man could have. We promised each other years ago that if something happened to either of us the other would fill in the family about some things they might not know about. Recon I need ta do that fer ya. I think ya know about most of it if ya would just admit it ta yerself. It's not the time right now though son. I'll get things together and before ya leave I'll give ya the rest of tha story." Jake and John visited a few minutes longer and finished their beers. Jake stood and said, "Getting late. Guess I'll turn in. Tessa has the late shift this week. She'll be home about one so if ya hear a car its likely her comin' in." Sure enough just after one a.m. John heard wheels turning on gravel and saw the lights flash as Tessa drove up beside her grandfather's old cabin. Shortly after he heard a car door slam then there was silence. He rolled over and returned to sleep. The next morning John woke early and made his coffee. He took off for the mine just as the sun was peeking over the mountains and got a full day's work in. He thought he might have dug out two or three ounces and brought it back to his old shaft to clean. He had decided to do it that way so there would be more evidence of ore coming from the old mine that way. He knew he wasn't getting all the gold out of the ore so if he was ever discovered there would be traces of ore in his old pile of tailings and obvious signs of his work. That evening he and Jake visited once more but they didn't talk about Crossroads and Chaos. They talked about honor and ethics, about medieval times and the weapons used during that period. They talked of diseases prevalent during those times. It was almost as if Jake was giving him a test for some reason but John was a romantic at heart and enjoyed the conversation. He was a little embarrassed about the time they spent on his sexual expertise and techniques. Oh, sure John had talked about sex with his friends over the years but somehow this was different. That evening just after one a.m. John once again heard a vehicle drive into the little town. This time it was noisier and he thought he heard two male voices and two doors slam. He had just rolled over to go back to sleep when another vehicle drove up. This one sounded more like the one from the night before. The door slammed as before. John started to relax when he heard Tessa scream and raised male voices. John jumped from his bed and slipped on his pants and shoes. He ran from the building and turned toward Jake's cabin. He could see three figures struggling near the porch. He rushed up to them and saw Tessa fighting with two rough greasy looking characters. Her blouse was torn and one of her breasts was flopping around as she struggled. One of the men growled, "Quit yer fightin' bitch or ya'll get hurt worse than we're gonna hurt ya. We'll hurt tha old man inside too bitch. Did ya think ya could just take our money in that there casino and we'd just walk on out? You and yer high and mighty pit boss are agonna pay fer what ya done to us. There aint no way yer games are honest. Ya stole our money and we're gonna get our due. No one has as bad a run of cards as ya tried to give us that night. Since ya didn't see fit ta return our cash we're just agonna take it outta yer pussy bitch." John rushed up and pulled the greasy man off Tessa. When the man turned on him John put him down and made sure he was out before turning toward the second man. As he turned he saw that man frantically trying to get something from his pocket. John moved to restrain him. They fought and wrestled back and forth. John knocked him down and was moving toward him once more when he saw him finally pull a pistol from his pocket. John felt fear jolt through his belly and he redoubled his efforts to get to the man before he could fire. John glimpsed Tessa from the corner of his eye as he leaped toward the man with the pistol. She had a long stick in her hand and was moving toward the man John was fighting. John saw an orange flame shoot from the end of the pistol barrel then there was a deep burning pain in his chest. John felt his body hit the ground then searing pain began. He heard Tessa scream and then heard the blow as she smashed her club into the man who had shot him. Tessa rolled him onto his back and looked at him. She tore his shirt open and saw the wound and the bright red blood bubbling from his chest. Tessa stood and ran for the house. When she got inside she saw her grandfather tied up lying on the floor. He had blood on his head and had been beaten. There was a gag in his mouth. She grabbed a knife from the kitchen drawer and cut his bonds. "Grandpa John's been shot bad. I think it got into his lung. I need things to bandage him and we have to get him to town quick." Jake rushed from the house as Tessa began gathering up things she thought she could use to bandage John. When she came out onto the porch she saw Jake pulling John toward the house. He pulled him into the living area and toward the door into the kitchen. Jake looked up at Tessa and said, "Come on girl. This is a bad one. He'll die if we don't do something fast. Help me pull him into the kitchen Tess." Just before Tessa got to the kitchen door Jake said, "Wait Tess." He looked at her and continued, "Ya know I love ya girl. Ya gotta trust me on this one. When ya pull him through tha door be sure to keep yer hands on John honey. Tell tha Hero Greeter ta get him into tha healing chamber fast Honey. It's his only chance and I'm sure he'll be a great Hero. He's got tha blood in him and he was taught well just like you were. He was injured here being heroic and trying to rescue you from those two animals. I wish I'd had more time to tell ya 'bout things but it is what it is." Tessa felt her heart lurch. She was afraid her grandfather was getting senile. He had been talking to her a lot lately about Heroes and Damsels and places like Crossroads and Chaos and Cassandra. He seemed to be fixated on medieval times. She said, "Please, not now grandpa. We've gotta help John. Please keep it together and we'll talk about your fantasy sometime else." Jake looked hurt then said, "Whatever Honey. Just remember what I said. Now, pull FAST." Tessa set her feet and got a better grip on John. She gave a hard pull and saw her grandfather pick up his feet and push forward. She gasped when she saw him let John's feet go as she stepped through the doorway. There was a flash of light so white and bright it hurt her eyes. She fell backwards and looked around. The kitchen was gone. All she saw was a bare white room and John lying on the floor at her feet bleeding. His breath was shallow and rapid. His complexion was pale. Tessa was kneeling beside John with tears running down her face when she heard a noise. An older grey haired woman dressed in a white flowing gown had just stepped through a sliding doorway she had not seen before. The woman stopped and said, "Who are you?" Tessa looked around and said, "Tessa Soaring Eagle. Please, John's hurt badly. Grandpa said to tell you to get him into the healing chamber but I don't know what that is." The older woman looked at John and Tessa saw the concern flash across her face. She lifted her head toward the ceiling and said, "Healing chamber," then rushed to Tessa and John as another door opened in a different wall. The woman scooped John up and rushed him through the door. Tessa followed and watched as the woman carefully placed John in a box that looked like a coffin and closed the lid. Lights lit up on a panel at the head of the coffin and it began to hum quietly. The woman turned from the coffin and moved toward Tessa. "Now child you need to come with me. Everything will be fine now." "Who are you and where are we? I thought..." "Come Tessa we need to talk. I'll tell you what I can and more when Hero John rejoins us. I'm Evelyn Hero Greeter." Tessa felt her heart begin to beat faster. Her face paled and she whispered, "Hero Greeter?" "Yes child. That's who I am. I greet new heroes when they come through the portal to Crossroads for the first time. I help explain some of the rules to them and assist them in finding a Caretaker. I must admit this is the first time I can remember a Hero coming for the first time with a Companion however. How did you come to be with Hero John and how did he become injured?" Enough Tessa explained what had happened that night and during the time leading up to her altercation with the two hoodlums. Evelyn very skillfully questioned her about John and herself. Tessa said at one point, "Grandpa Jake and Johns Grandpa Samuel told us for years they had met overseas during World War II and had several adventures together. They remained friends and visited back and forth several times a year until they both became too infirm to travel. Samuel passed away several years ago from cancer. I live with my grandfather and help care for him on land Samuel left John in Colorado." "What are the full names of your grandfather and Samuel?" Tessa told Evelyn the names and once again Evelyn looked toward the ceiling and said, "Records on Jake Soaring Eagle of Colorado, Earth and Samuel Harvey of Missouri and/or Colorado, Earth." In seconds two thick folders appeared out of nowhere on the table between Tessa and Evelyn Hero Greeter. Evelyn bent forward and picked up the top folder. She immediately opened it and her eyebrows went up. She read quietly for several minutes then put it down and picked up the other folder. This time she gasped and closed the folder rapidly, replacing it on the table. She looked at Tessa with an expression bordering on awe. "Tessa I am impressed and so excited you and Hero John have arrived. If the two of you live up to your ancestry it will be a glorious time for Cassandra and the Damsels." Tessa looked scared. She muttered, "Cassandra?" Her face paled and she continued, "Grandpa has been talking about places called Cassandra and Chaos since John first came back to Colorado after his grandfather died. I, unh, it's not a fantasy of his is it? Its real isn't it? We're actually on Crossroads!" "Yes child. It's real but very few know about us and the link to Earth. Only the heroes and their Companions and, of course, those of us involved on this side of the portals." Tessa heard a chime that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere. She jumped as Evelyn Hero Greeter jumped from her seat and said, "Excuse me Tessa. Hero John is healed and I have to go fetch him. I'll return shortly and we can continue our conversation." In just a few moments Evelyn returned to the room. John was following her wearing a comfortable looking white robe. He looked wonderful. He was clean and his body was glowing with health. He moved like a stalking lion. Tessa felt her crotch dampen just looking at his musculature. When he looked at her she could almost feel his masculinity. Evelyn turned to John and said, "Hero John would you please take a seat. I need to get Tessa into the healing chamber to take care of her scrapes and bruises then we need to talk." She turned to Tessa and continued, "Come Tessa. Let's get you taken care of and then we'll have something to eat and I'll answer more of your questions." Tessa was in shock. She couldn't believe John looked so good when just a couple of hours before he had been almost dead. She didn't think, she just stood and allowed Evelyn to lead her into the other room and put her into the same coffin she had placed John in earlier." Evelyn didn't even leave the room this time. She stood watching a computer screen that had appeared at her command while she waited on Tessa to be healed. From time to time Evelyn would murmur a comment and request the computer to save it on her notepad. In about fifteen minutes once again the chime sounded. Evelyn touched a control and the lid of the coffin opened. Tessa looked up at Evelyn and allowed her to help her from the chamber. When she stood she saw Evelyn holding out a duplicate of the robe John was wearing. She felt herself blush when she realized she was now nude and grabbed for the robe. She felt better physically than she had felt in several months. When she took her first step she also realized how dangerously horny she was. Her nether lips were almost dripping with evidence of her need. She had gone into the chamber slightly horny and now she was almost screaming with her need. Tessa looked around desperately for a restroom. Finally she embarrassedly asked Evelyn where one was. Evelyn once again talked toward the ceiling and a door slid open showing a luxurious bathroom complete with large shower, Jacuzzi tub and other fixtures. As she was entering the room Evelyn smiled at her and said, "If you need something to dry off with just ask the computer. I suspect you are experiencing one of the side effects the healing chamber has on Earth females. The chamber tunes your body to its maximum potential in ALL areas. One of those areas that seem to be repressed in Earth females is their libido. I noticed you were aroused when you went into the chamber when I read its entry report on you. After the enhancement I suspect you have a great need to copulate. We can get to that later if you wish." Tessa blushed once more and stammered a thank you before she closed the door. About five minutes later a still blushing Tessa opened the door and stepped out of the room. Evelyn smiled and said, "Please follow me Tessa and we will rejoin Hero John." After the women returned to the room John was in and sat down Evelyn Hero Greeter leaned back in her chair and looked at the two young people from Earth. She was somewhat nonplussed. She called once more to the ceiling, "History files on John Harvey, Samuel Harvey, Tessa Soaring Eagle, Jake Soaring Eagle and Toby Soaring Eagle." Tessa gasped once again when the woman asked for files on the people. Her face turned white and she took John's hand. She was gripping it so hard it hurt and he gently loosened her fingers and wrapped his arm around her. After Evelyn briefly looked through the files once more she turned to the silent couple and said, "This is irregular to say the least however John, you meet all the criteria and then some to be chosen for a Hero. In fact, the Portal would not have passed you through in spite of you wearing the Hero Ring if you had not. The basic question seems to be, for you, whether or not you want to become a Hero of Cassandra." Evelyn looked at Tessa and smiled gently before continuing, "Tessa you present somewhat of a problem for us. I know your grandfather began your indoctrination a few days ago when he became aware Hero John was returning to Colorado. I know you have had some self defense training but I worry about it being enough for you to function as a Hero Companion. You also do not meet all the criteria for selection as Hero Companion because you did not enter Crossroads with John in expectation of fulfilling that function. John had the indoctrination and many hours of training to become a Hero over his lifetime up to this point. His grandfather told him the stories and gave him rudimentary training on what you call medieval weapons. His training in Karate and Hand to Hand Combat in the Army furthered his education. Tessa, you come from good stock. Your Grandfather was a very successful Hero. He averaged two missions a year for thirty years before he quit coming to visit us. Unfortunately, your father wasn't so successful. He had just seven successful missions to his credit when he was killed on his last mission to Chaos. The Damsel he was trying to rescue had to wait longer for another Hero to rescue her." Evelyn looked at the two again to see how they were taking her discussion. When she stopped talking Tessa immediately said, "Wait just a minute here. My father was found on our land dead from falling off his horse and over a cliff. He had been hunting stray cattle when his horse threw him we believe." Evelyn gave Tessa a sad smile and said, "I'm sorry Tessa. When a Hero dies on Chaos their body is returned to Earth. The body is returned in such a way that a plausible explanation for the death can be made by your authorities. Rest assured, the Hero name of Soaring Eagle is well known and respected on Cassandra." Tessa stared daggers at Evelyn and said, "I don't believe you. I was young but I saw my father's body. He was bruised and broken up from his fall but he died on earth." "No dear. He was beaten to death on Chaos by a gang of slavers when he tried to rescue the Damsel. Of course that would look like he had tumbled down into the ravine in which he was ultimately found." Tessa blanched. She had not told Evelyn where her father was found or the condition of his body. She was starting to believe this was actually happening and it frightened her. She leaned back in the couch and said, "What is this Hero Companion you are talking about and just why don't you think I have any choice but to become one, whatever they are? I was pulling John into my kitchen to try and stop his bleeding when my grandfather told me to pull hard and fast and to remember what I had been told. I have a job back home and I have to get to it tomorrow morning. I can't afford to be fired." John just sat taking it all in. He was in inner turmoil. He was slowly coming to believe all the stories his grandfather had told him about Chaos and Damsels were true. All his dreams of being a hero and rescuing Damsels when he was younger could perhaps come true too. Evelyn raised her head slightly and said, "Rulebooks for Heroes and Hero Companions. Also include folders on compatible Caretaker candidates." Another slight pop came and two books were lying on the coffee table in front of John and Tessa. To one side of Evelyn rested three new folders. She looked at each of the folders briefly then set them in front of John and said, "I have other duties I must attend to soon. I will leave the two of you here with the rule books and the folders on available Caretakers. Read the folders carefully and when you have selected a Caretaker please tell the computer." Evelyn rose and started toward the door she had entered the room through. She stopped just before she went through it and said, "Before I leave, are you hungry or thirsty? I can order in a meal or something for you to drink if you wish." John looked at Tessa. She made a slight 'No" shake of her head. He turned to Evelyn and said, "Thank you. Neither of us is hungry just yet but I will be shortly. Could you order us a pot of coffee for now?" "Absolutely. In addition, when you become hungry I will instruct the computer to prepare and deliver one meal of your choice for each of you. If you need anything further your Caretaker can see to it after you have chosen her. When you have made your selection inform the computer and I will see she is notified and comes to continue your processing and to help you select your first mission." John and Tessa sat a moment after Evelyn left the room. They took their coffee cups and had a sip then John looked over at Tessa and said, "Wow. Grandpa told me stories of rescues for years and I thought he had such a vivid imagination. When I was going through some of his belongings I opened a strong box and found his journals written about rescuing Damsels in a place called Chaos. He had maps, descriptions of terrain and of the actions he took to make the rescue. They all read much like the After Action Reports we prepared after a mission in the Army. I thought he was trying to write an erotic fantasy book when I read them. Now it looks like they were real and he was a Hero, whatever that entails." John sat a moment and stared into space then continued, "A highly erotic fantasy book at that. Grandpa wrote that the Hero's reward was having sex with the Damsel and that her reward was the baby the Hero gave her. He gave explicit detail of the sex he had with the Damsels he rescued. The way he described them it almost sounded as if he loved them all. Some of his journals mentioned his taking grandma with him on his missions as a Hero Companion. If you can believe his Journals she also enjoyed the adventures. I just can't believe she would put up with him having sex with all those women." Tessa had a haunted look on her face and just nodded her head 'yes'. "I know what you mean," she whispered. "My Father must have been one of those Hero's too and Grandfather Soaring Eagle. I wonder if grandma and Mom knew what they did?" John sighed and picked up the two small books on the table. He looked at the covers then handed Tessa the one labeled "RULES FOR HERO COMPANIONS". He kept the one labeled "RULES FOR HEROES" and opened it to the first page. For the next thirty minutes John and Tessa read their respective books. After they had finished their book they exchanged books with each other without a word and read the rules for the other person. "Well, that seems pretty straightforward," John said. "If this is true we cannot return home until I... we have been to Chaos and rescued a Damsel." "Yes if it's true. But I just can't stay here that long. I have to go to work. And you have to go home to your farm. Look around, maybe there's a door we can get out of." John and Tessa spent several minutes exploring the bright white room with no success. Finally he sat down and reached for one of the folders on potential Caretakers. He carefully read through the folder. It contained the life history of the woman who wanted to be a Caretaker for a Hero. This first folder was on a woman named Beverly Short Order Cook. The folder contained information on her education, hobbies and vocation. Her hobby was primitive cooking and healing. It even contained an essay explaining, in her own words, why she wanted to be a Caretaker and why she thought she would be a good one. John was shocked when he turned the last page and saw a very suggestive nude picture of her on the inside of the back cover. Beverly was absolutely beautiful. The next folder John looked in was for a candidate named Traci Professor. She taught the history of Cassandra and Chaos in a university on Cassandra. Her hobby was Martial Arts. The last page in her folder was also a nude picture in the same provocative pose Beverly used. The last folder was on a young candidate named Patrice Research Assistant. She was employed as a Research Assistant in the historical section of Crossroads. Her duties involved assisting researchers find data they wanted on all facets of Chaos, Heroes and their rescue missions. Her hobbies were not as useful as were those of the Professor and Short Order Cook. She was interested in primitive mechanical devices and transportation. Her folder also contained the nude picture as had the others. She too was a beautiful goddess. After John finished reading each folder he silently passed it to Tessa. She, too, carefully read them. When she came to the last page of the first folder she gasped and blushed. She quickly glanced over at John and saw him grinning at her. She clinched her jaw and quickly put the folder down and took the one he handed her. After they were done with the folders John said, "Prioritize the candidates please Tessa." "If this is all real and you need to pick a Caretaker to help you fulfill your duties as a Hero I think Traci Professor is the first choice. I would choose Patrice second and Beverly third." "I agree the Professor should be first choice based on her knowledge but I put Beverly as second. She should have almost as much knowledge as the Professor and I think her knowledge of primitive healing might be beneficial." John leaned back and rubbed his eyes then said, "OK, let's make a choice here and see what happens and where we go from here." He raised his voice and said, "Computer, please tell Evelyn Hero Greeter I would like Traci Professor as my Caretaker." John was not verbally acknowledged when he gave the request however the three folders on the Caretaker candidates disappeared with a pop. He and Tessa sat there leafing through their respective rule books for a few moments. Finally John sighed and threw the rule book onto the table and stood. He paced toward where he thought the exit door to Earth should be and stared at the wall. He heard a slight sound and turned to face the other wall. Evelyn Hero Greeter had just stepped through the now open doorway. Just behind her was a vision of beauty dressed in a flowing white see through gown. Her nipples were engorged and John thought he could see evidence of moisture on her labia. Her thin pubic hair glistened with the same moisture. Tessa looked up and gasped. Evelyn smiled and stepped aside. She gestured toward the woman with her and said, "Hero John Harvey and Hero Companion Tessa Soaring Eagle this is Traci Caretaker. I'll leave you in her hands now. She will provide anything else you may need and will assist you in selecting and planning for your first rescue mission. All of Cassandra is looking forward to your success and to hearing about your exploits." Evelyn turned and left the room. Traci smiled and moved to John. She stood just in front of him and looked into his eyes. "Thank you Hero John for selecting me as your caretaker. I am much impressed with your credentials and am honored to be caretaker for the grandson of such a distinguished Hero. You must be very proud of your grandfather. All Cassandra was sorry to hear of his passing." Traci turned slightly to face Tessa and continued speaking, "I am honored to meet you also Tessa Soaring Eagle. We expect much good assistance from you when you and Hero John get to Chaos. Your grandfather also is very much respected on Cassandra as was your father. It was unfortunate he died so young." Traci turned back to John and looked into his eyes once more. She stood on tiptoes and hugged him tightly then gave him a kiss that rapidly became more and more passionate. She was moaning and writhing as she ground her chest and pussy into him. In spite of himself he felt his cock becoming hard. Traci stepped back and cupped his hard on with her hand. Her breasts were rising and falling rapidly as she panted with her need. She began trying to undo John's pants as she moved back into a kiss once more. Tessa sat and stared at the action in shock. John finally grabbed Traci's hands and stepped back slightly. "Whoa there Missy. What's all that about?" "Please don't tease me Hero John. You know what I need. Please, can't we just go to bed now and get to the other stuff later? I've waited and dreamed of this for my whole life. Please don't make me wait any longer." Traci began pulling John toward the bedroom. Her face was flushed, her nipples hard. She was panting with her need and moaning in excitement. John was but a man, a young man, and could stand only so much stimulation without taking advantage of a sexual situation. He looked at Tessa and gave her a guilty grin then he allowed Traci to lead him toward the bedroom. Tessa and John could see a large King Size bed through the doorway. John said, "Excuse me please Tessa. I think grandpa was accurate in his depiction of the needs of his Caretaker and perhaps of Cassandran women in general." Traci slowed her departure from the room and said over her shoulder, "Tessa please excuse my rudeness. You know how it is. I just can't wait any longer for my Hero. You are welcome to join us if you wish." Traci didn't even close the door. She led John beside the bed and turned to him once more. As she turned she shrugged her shoulders and her gown fell from her shoulders to the floor. She rapidly moved her hands to his waistband and unfastened his pants. After she had lowered his pants she helped John remove his feet from them then stood and unbuttoned his shirt. Neither of the potential lovers saw Tessa standing in the middle of the other room in shock. Her mouth was open and her eyes were wide as she watched Traci begin her seduction, almost rape of John. To Tessa's horror and embarrassment she felt her need spike. She could feel her lubrication draining from her pussy and running down her thighs while she watched John and Traci in the bedroom. Enough The party was winding down, and Don observed comfortably from his chair in the corner. He toyed with the notion of picking up a book, but thought it might be rude to be found reading at his own party. Throwing parties, he reconciled, was never about the host anyway. Martha found him and sat on his lap, taking his drink from his hand to place it on the table on the end. "Thank you," she said, kissing him. "What for?" "For having our friends over. I know you've been busy with your big trial, so I know what it means to say yes. And also..." She brought her soft hand to his face and caressed his dark, well-trimmed beard with her long, dark-red fingernails. "Well, just thanks." Don didn't need to say anything, and he knew it. His balls felt heavier when she talked to him like this. Sometimes he forgets why he became a lawyer, and she reminds him. She smiled one more time, and then something else caught her attention and she was gone. "Let me get that for you," she was saying as she walked away. The lights were dim in the condo, and he saw the lights of downtown Manhattan bouncing off of the peach-colored walls of his penthouse suite. Some folks were crawling, they were so drunk, and the sun would be up in mere hours. The music had ended, and some of the more chatty ones were still lounging around the coffee table in the den. "It's people," one girl named Sarah was saying. "All they have to do is learn how to be nice. That's all. Is that so hard?" Others were nodding and offering up mumbling approvals. She went on for about five minutes longer, and by that time Don had been standing by the window. There was a homeless woman on the streets below, sitting at a bus stop. He knew the woman well, and he had no pity on her. He turned when someone said his name. She said it a few decibels louder than she had been speaking to get his attention. "Not that we mind, though," she continued. "We need people who don't trust anyone. Otherwise, how would the legal system work at all?" Don remained silent, and did not move from his spot by the window. "He trusts some people," he heard Martha chime in. "Just not very many." The others laughed. Don was not amused, but he wasn't irritated. Not like usual. Don was surprising even himself by his recent tendency toward acceptance of things he didn't like. He was not a compromising man and he was often ill-tempered, but he was coming to find that removing himself from the situation of his discontent made him far more sane, hospitable and generally happy. His wife had much to do with that, though. She was far more egalitarian. The woman below was gesticulating wildly to people who weren't there. He was still watching her when he heard someone say, "I would never do that in public. Not me. Have some self-control, you know?" Don looked over to find two girls with their heads buried in a tabloid. They were giggling, and one sat back to take a puff of her cigarette. She is lying, Don thought. Smoking is her tell. Whatever it is, she would certainly do it. Don walked over to them and asked to look at the magazine. The page they were looking at featured nipple slips and other wardrobe malfunctions. Some were topless completely, or wearing very thin clothing, and see-through dresses. Don looked down at the girl. Her name was Harmony. Another puff of smoke came out slowly, and she crossed her arms. She stared back at Don, who was studying her. Bleached white hair, zebra-striped mini-skirt and combat boots. And a face that stonewalled Don and his every attempt to read her. Don handed the magazine back and sat down in his chair. He took a drink, while the others went back to talking. Harmony brought the conversation back to Don with an insult: "I don't think Don wins because he's smart. He wins because he lies. You have to be a good liar to be a good lawyer, don't you Don?" Don was only hoping the poor girl would attempt to challenge him, and his pride got the better of him when he accepted. She was playing with fire. "And how easy do you think it is to lie?" She knew on some level that she should not have challenged him, and she knew it from that question. "Pretty easy. You just say something that isn't true. If you act like you believe it, then no one will suspect a thing." "And how easy is that?" "I don't know, I'm not a liar like you." "Ahh," he said with a smile. She thought she was doing well. "But you said it was easy. Tell me, if I were to tell a lie and convince you to believe me, how easy would it be for that lie to be sustained? How long would you believe it before the lie leads to another lie, and how long before the whole lie collapses?" "I don't know. If it's a big lie, not long?" "Exactly. I'm currently defending a suspect in a double-homicide. Do you think that if I were to lie about my client's guilt, that this would be a big lie or a small lie?" Everyone's eyes were fixed on Don like he was some guru. "A big lie, I guess," she responded. "So is it possible that your premise is flawed?" Harmony shot him a look of disgust and said, "Well if it's not lying, then what is it?" Don smiled. "Well I do lie. We all lie, its what keeps us from killing each other. What's interesting, though, is that the liar is always the villain in any deception." Some of them sat back, as if they had just taken a heavy hit of dope and needed to let it ride a bit. Harmony didn't know what to say, so she just changed the subject. "I just smoked my last cigarette, does anyone have an extra one?" "What do you mean by that, Don?" It was Glen, an event coordinator for one of Martha's Art Galleries. Don liked Glen because he was curious, intelligent and respectful. "No one takes responsibility for deception. We are taught to place the blame on the deceiver. We are not interested in readying our minds to the deceptive behaviors of dishonest people. This is because at our core, we can be made to do and believe just about anything." "A Machiavellian view," Glen responded. Don was very glad Glen came to the party. "Precisely." "Mockee-who?" Sarah was still largely drunk, and rather than explain any further to a drunk socialite, Don waited for Harmony to respond. He thought she'd given up when she said, "That's stupid." "I can prove it." "How?" "Hypnosis." "That's cheating! Make me do something without hypnosis and I'll believe you." "Do you know anything about hypnosis? There is nothing I could make you do under hypnosis that you wouldn't normally be willing to do." "It's true," Glen added. "Some of the artists I work with are psychiatrists by trade. Some people have limits that others don't." "Do you still think my theory is stupid?" Martha knew better and tried to put a stop to it. "Don, don't." They've done this kind of thing at parties before, but Don figured Martha was only concerned because she had to actually work with Harmony on Monday. "It's her choice," Don protested. "How strongly do you believe that? Would you like me to prove it?" "You really shouldn't," Martha was saying to Harmony. But Harmony dismissed it. "Go for it." Don moved to sit opposite Harmony on the couch. "Tell me something you would not normally do right now with everyone in this room." "I don't know, like what?" "Would you masturbate?" The tension in the room remained, in part because of the seriousness with which Don delivered this line. Martha said nothing, as she knew where it was heading the whole time. Her friend Sarah studied her with curious eyes. "I'm not going to masturbate in front of everyone! What kind of girl do you think I am?" "I'm being serious. If you say you would never do that, then fine, it will work. But if you would do it normally and I get you to do it, you'll never know if I'm wrong. It's up to you if you want to know if I can prove it. Do you still want me to hypnotize you?" Harmony was not ready to back out, but she betrayed a hint of nervousness. Finally, she said, "Yes." He pulled out a gold-plated ball-point pen and held it up. "Focus on this and count backward from 10." In a matter of minutes, the process was complete and she was completely under. "How do you feel Harmony?" "Good," she said, her eyes now closed. "Do you remember the people who were at my party?" She said yes, and then started to name them. "Do you remember what Sarah was wearing?" She said it was a V-cut silver blouse with black jeans. Don shifted and asked, "What do you think is the nicest object you've seen in our home?" She thought about it for a minute, and then said, "You have a very nice vase in the hallway. It is a grayish blue. It has pictures on it. I really liked it." Don thought it was an amusing side-note that she picked the one object that had fertility symbolism on it. "You really like that vase?" "I do." "Harmony, listen to my voice. The next time you see that vase, you are going to feel an intense sexual desire. It is going to be so intense, that you are going to want to pleasure yourself. It will not stop until you hear me clap my hands. Do you understand?" "Yes." "When I count to ten, you will be fully awake and refreshed. Ok?" He counted back to ten, and she woke up. She had a nervous look on her face. "How do you feel?" "Good," she replied, apprehensively. "Did I...?" "No," Don said. Harmony looked relieved, and she grinned proundly. "I told you." "Glen, would you mind getting that thing from the hallway?" Glen was only too happy to oblige, and Don watched Harmony's confidence begin to wane. She knew he was up to something. Finally, he produced the vase and placed it on the table before Harmony. Her eyes grew wide. She opened her mouth to say something, but couldn't. She couldn't even look away. Her breathing became heavy and her palms started to sweat. She wiped them on her knees and sat up straight. Sarah saw the changes clearly, and she was clearly in awe. Everyone wondered if she would do it, and watching in anticipation. Harmony's eyes were fixed on the object to the point she could not contain herself. In one quick movement, she shot her hand up her dress and into her underwear. Her breathing became erratic, and she started to moan. She could not start slow. As soon as her hand was in her panties, she rubbed herself quickly. Pretty soon her eyes were closed and she was about to climax. Don stood proudly on his feet and look down at her with a grin. She climaxed, but continued rubbing herself feverishly. She was screaming when Don finally clapped his hands and she stopped abruptly. Beads of sweat dripped from her forehead and the pounding of her heart continued as she blinked her eyes open and looked around. She saw everyone watching her and she became dizzy. She sat up to and noticed her hand was still in her underwear. She quickly removed it and looked for something to wipe her hand with. Sarah handed her a tissue with a smile on her face and said, "Looks like you wanted to do that after all." Instead of taking the tissue, she just stood up and stormed to the bathroom. And only Don was laughing. Enough! I have been married for close to eight years. My wife is what some consider a BBW, or a SSBBW, she is 5'11, medium length brown hair and hazel eyes, beautiful breasts that sag just a little, an ass that you want to grab from behind or smack and watch it jiggle, a tummy so soft you can't help but rub it, and thighs that are so thick they are better than any vise. God I love her. The only thing I don't particularly love is the fact that I work ten hour days to spend two more hours driving to and from work just to come home to have to do more work. It's never been that I truly minded doing it, just now and then some help would be appreciated, especially after a truly hard day at work. Today was one of those days; I got home around six in the evening after a horrible day at work, trying on the drive home to switch to a good mood. Nothing at the house was done as usual. Dirty dishes everywhere, dirty clothes scattered around the house. The good mood I was working on was instantly erased. "That's it!" I yelled. Everyone stopped and just looked at me as if to ask, what's wrong? Of course no one said anything, I had had it. I had had enough of being everyone's bitch. It was time for someone to be mine. After I finished I switched the loads in the wash, picked up all the dishes and got them into the washer, swept and mopped the floors and took the trash out. I asked my wife, with mild anger in my voice, "You want to get in the shower now?" She blew me off, absent mindedly agreeing by saying, "I will after this cigarette." I knew that meant roughly another thirty minutes to an hour. That just infuriated me more. Instead of waiting and having it dig at me even more, I took my shower instead. In the back of my head I kept thinking, 'She will get hers shortly.' I got out dried my body and started gathering the supplies I needed for the evening. I was fed up with the lack of help I was getting and it was going to change tonight! I set about getting the tools to teach her a lesson ready; the silk rope, velcro hand cuffs, favorite thick rubber cock and a few of her other toys out of her drawer. Prepped the hook in the ceiling with the rope, laid out my means of punishment, then I went to get her. She still hadn't showered yet and it was beginning to get late. I was visibly pissed now. I stormed out front, after yelling and screaming at one another she reluctantly got in the shower. With just the towel wrapped around her she entered the room. I had calmed down considerably; I knew what I had in store for her. I was hiding behind the door as she came in. When she shut the door, I pushed her in the back hard enough to cause her to fall face first on to the bed. I pounced on her and straddled her hips, reaching up and grabbing a handful of her hair. I yanked her head back so I was right in her ear. "You are going to be my bitch tonight. I'm going to do what I want to you and there isn't a damn thing you can do about it" I hissed into her ear, "I'm tired of you taking advantage of me." I shoved her head back into the bed. She just laid there. I didn't know if it was from shock, terror, if she felt bad or if I had hurt her. I really didn't care either. "Stand up," I said. She didn't move, just stared at me with those big hazel eyes of hers. "I said stand the fuck up!" When she got to her feet I could see her eyes were red like she was about to cry but trying to hold it in. "Give me your hands," I demanded. When she didn't move again I slapped her right tit as hard as I could. SMACK! It began to redden as soon as I made contact. Instantly I had what I wanted. I put the cuffs on her, and pulled her close. "You don't like being hit? Then listen, it's only going to get harder and more painful if you don't. Do you understand me?" She did exactly what I thought she would. She didn't answer. SMACK!!! I slapped her other tit and she started nodding her head so fast it was like she was head banging. I attached the rope to the cuffs and fed it through the hook I had installed earlier. I pulled her arms and hands above her head and attached the rope to the bed behind her. On my way back around her I picked up her brush and showed it to her. "This is one of the items I will be using on you tonight," I told her. "How?" she asked. SMACK!!! The brush landed squarely on her right ass cheek. "No questions!" I answered "You will do as I say when I say it. No questions! Do you understand me? The only sound I want to hear is your pussy squirting, you moaning and if you can't take it and want me to stop the safe words are red to stop and yellow to ease up on what I'm doing." I looked right in her eye, "Understand?" I asked harshly. She nodded again. "Good, that's what I wanted to hear." I took the rest of the rope I had and wrapped it around each of her breast as tightly as I could. "This takes them out of being smacked for the time being," I told her. "Fuck you, stop this shit now and let me go," she spat at me. SMACK! My hand met her cheek hard, and the cheek reddened as soon as I hit her. Her eyes started tearing up again. "What you think just because I said I won't hit them like that you're in the clear?" I laughed, as I walked around behind her. "Spread your legs bitch." She did but it was way too slow for my liking. SMACK!, the brush landed on her left ass cheek. I took her two silver bullets and slid them into her sopping wet cunt. My hand was instantly soaked. I offered them to her. "Clean them off slut. You like me treating you this way don't you?" I asked. She just hung her head and wouldn't look at me. She knew she was drenched, and knew I knew the answer already. She could feel it dripping down her thighs. I wanted to hear it from her, "I asked you a fucking question!" "Yes," she said in a sobbing, embarrassed voice. I lifted her chin so she was looking at me with tearful eyes. "It's yes, SIR!" I said as I slapped her face again. I could tell she was crying now. 'I gave her an out,' I told myself. She can stop this at anytime. I circled back behind her and pulled her head back by her hair. "This is just the beginning of the punishment for not listening since we started. You haven't even started being punished for the lack of house work yet." I told her and pushed her head back up. I grabbed a tie, put it across her mouth and tied it behind her head. She looked at me with the most frightened and pleading look I have ever seen. "It will be ok, you may even like it," I whispered to her. "When you get close to cumming, make sure you tell me. Just nod if you understand." She nodded. "Good." I slipped her vibrating eggs inside her at full power and began teasing her clit with her vibrator. She tried twisting and turning to get me off it but to no avail. She began grunting and moaning and I could see in her eyes the look of a climax soon approaching. "You ready to cum slut?" She nodded again. I ripped the eggs out of her quickly. "Don't you dare cum you fat slut," I commanded as I stood and forced my cock into her. That sent her over the edge. "I'm cumming," she mumbled around the gag. SMACK! My hand slammed into her face again. To my surprise she started squirting around my cock. "I told you not to cum didn't I?" I asked. She stood there breathing hard, trembling and tears running down her cheeks. "You ready for your punishment you fat bitch?" I pulled the gag out so she could answer me. To my surprise she screamed, "Yes, sir!" I rammed three fingers deep into her, and brutally started finger fucking her. I pulled them out, and with her looking at me, sucked one clean and had her suck the other two. I spun her around so she could see what I had in mind. On the bed in front of her were her anal beads, butt plug and her twelve inch rubber cock. I grabbed the beads. "Stick your ass out slut," I commanded. I began to apply lube to her ass, sliding a finger or two in with every pass. She began fucking her ass on my fingers. I allowed it to go on for three or four bounces. On the fifth I slapped her ass as hard as I could. "I don't remember saying that was ok. Do you remember me saying that?" I asked. "No," she answered. SMACK! I smacked her ass again. Reaching up from behind her I grabbed her throat and started choking her. "Didn't you forget something?" I asked letting go of her throat. "Sir, I'm sorry sir," she pleaded. I turned and took the anal beads and fed all six of them into her ass, all the way up to the ring. "Now you don't cum without asking permission. Do you understand me?" I demanded. "Yes sir" she answered. "Now that's better," I responded. I took a step back to admire my handy work. She looked just as I imagined. The ring of the beads was tucked between the cheeks of her ass, which was pink from the slaps it took so far. "That's a good slut. You look so fucking hot like that," I told her. She started to complain, "My back and legs are beginning to hurt." I took the brush and smacked her ass again. SMACK! "DIDN'T YOU HEAR ME," she yelled. "Yeah, I heard you. How exactly do think my back and legs feel when I get home from work?" I asked in a very calm voice, "And yet you choose to leave all the house work to me anyway right? So if you don't care why should I?" She had no answer. "Now stick your ass out and count them off until I think your fat ass has had enough you fucking slut." SMACK! "One!" she cried out. "That one didn't count. You forgot something didn't you?" I asked. "The next will be against on your face if you forget again. Now count." SMACK! "One, Sir." "Now that's better my fat slut," I replied. SMACK! She screamed the count, "TWO, SIR!" SMACK! "THREE, SIR!" SMACK! "FOUR, SIR!" Her ass cheek was getting really red by now. SMACK! "FIVE, SIR!", breathlessly she pleaded, "Can you please hit the other one sir?" So I switched cheeks. SMACK! "SIX, SIR!" SMACK! "SEVEN, SIR!" she wailed. I pulled back and smacked her one last time with everything I had. SMACK!!!! "EIGHT, SIR!" she had more tears streaming down her cheeks, breathlessly began to plead to me, "Please, please, please, I can't take much more sir." I began rubbing her ass to take some of the sting and burning away. "Spread your legs wider slut," I ordered. She slid her legs three or four more inches apart. I began removing the beads on pop at a time. "Can I please cum sir?" she wailed. "Yes you can my slut." As soon as the beads were out, I laid under her and sucked her clit into my mouth. She started screaming and moaning. She came like a rushing river flooding my face and filling my mouth as she squirted uncontrollably. She could barely stand after that one so I took the rope down. I had her lie with her torso on the bed and her legs on the floor. I took the rope and tied it off on the opposite side of the bed. She laid there her big round ass sticking up in the air. I wanted to dive in and lick every inch of it. Instead I took her foot long toy and put just the first nub in. I grabbed her butt plug and slid it into her ass. I turned them both to a slow, agonizing hum. "Now hold them there, don't let either on hit the floor. Am I understood?" "Yes sir," she answered in a low husky voice. I walked around her and climbed on the bed. I slid my waist under her face and slid my cock into her mouth. "Now suck," I commanded. She began to slowly bob her head up and down trying to concentrate on holding her humming friends in place. That's not what I wanted, so I grabbed the back of her head and began fucking her face. I plunged my cock into her throat over and over. She gagged and choked and took every inch of my cock. Her tongue was letting me know she was enjoying it by the details she paid to the head and shaft with her tongue over and over again. It was so hot seeing the drool that was trailing out of her mouth covering my cock. "That's it, take it all you fat slut. Let me skull fuck you. That's it just like a good little bitch," I encouraged. Then I heard it, a wet THUD of something falling to the floor. All of a sudden her eyes flew open right at me. "What the fuck was that?" I asked. "Nothing sir I didn't hear anything." She answered. I got up and rushed around her. Sure enough there it was on the floor. Her twelve inch toy. "You fucking liar!" I screamed. I reached down and picked it up and slapped it against her ass. I started smacking her ass with it over and over. "You fucking slut! I can't believe you had the gull to lie to me!" She began sobbing again, crying out, "My ass is so sore please stop please!" "You think your ass is sore now slut?" I climbed back on the bed and rammed my cock in and out of her throat. She began gagging badly. I kept going saying, "Just you fucking wait." I pulled my cock out of her throat. Made sure it was coated in her mucus and saliva, and circle around behind her. I pulled her plug out and rammed my cock balls deep into her ass. She screamed out, "OH MY GOD!" I thought the plug would loosen her up a bit but I was way wrong. It almost seemed tighter. I began thrusting in and out of her ass. "God your big ass grips my cock so good. Take it all you fat slut. How's it feel bitch?" I asked. "Like it's on fire, OH MY GOD!! I feel so fucking full, sir." she screamed breathlessly I started pounding her ass even harder. "Sir, I think...I think I'm going to cum, sir." Desperation in her voice for the first time, horse and panting, "Pleeeeaaaasssseeee may I cum? Oh God, please let me cum, sir." I rammed in and out of her a couple more time then answered, "Cum for me you fat bitch, cum while my cock is buried deep in your ass like the good slut you are." When she started I didn't think she was going to stop. I could tell she was close to a big one. "Sir, please smack my ass again," she requested almost desperately. When I did she squirted her womanly cum all over me and the floor. Her ass gripped my cock like a vice and I came over and over again deep in her dark hole. After slipping from her well used ass, I walked around and untied her from the bed. I pushed her up on the bed and lay besides her trying to soothe her blood red ass. After a few minutes of us catching our breath, she turned and curled into my arms. She whispered, "I love you. When can we do it again?" I smiled, so much for that lesson getting through; but I'm looking forward to the next time! Enough I wanted him. I could see him sitting there, across the bar, smoking his cigar and looking widely disinterested at the typical goings on. He was a stranger to the area. I was local enough to recognize that much, his leather vest over a plaid flannel shirt, worn blue jeans and cowboy boots. I licked my lips at the sight of the boots. Jason was there with me, following my eyes as it was my turn to shoot and I hadn’t done so yet. We are so competitive when it comes to pool, that is, unless one of us gets distracted. “You can either drool at him all night or you can go over there,” Jason said casually as he leaned against the table. “Either way. It’s your turn to shoot.” I nodded and pulled my eyes away long enough to make the shot. I missed. “Go.” He put a hand on my shoulder and pushed me forward. I handed him my cue and left him behind. Jason and I had dated a while ago. It just happened to wind up that we made much better friends than we did lovers, although that didn’t stop us from indulging every now and again at a weak moment. I was having a weak moment but it had nothing to do with Jason. It was mid-way on my way over to him that I realized I had nothing to say. I wasn’t good at hitting on men and I could tell that tonight was going to be one of those nights that even my meager recourses left me. I continued to walk, however. He noticed me as I stopped a few feet away. Somehow, I got up the courage to walk over to him and although my tongue felt as though it had been tied in knots, I managed to speak. “Can I buy you a beer?” This line is especially brilliant since he already had a full bottle in hand. “Sure.” He downed the last of his bottle and set it aside. “Sit.” I did so, rubbing my hands on my blue jeans and looking around. Familiar faces ignored me per usual, the only eyes upon me belonged to that of Jason, who was doing his damnedest to look disinterested as he knocked the rest of the balls into their slots. “I’m Logan.” He offered his hand and I took it. “Jenna.” I replied, shaking his hand, trying to seem cool and failing miserably. “I want to get out of here.” He paused for a moment and then motioned to the door. “Then leave.” “I want you to come with me.” He nodded in Jason’s direction. “Won’t your boyfriend get mad?” “He isn’t my boyfriend.” I responded automatically, the answer actually prepared for the question that was always forthcoming. “Okay.” He rose to his feet and I to mine, my heart beating a mile a minute as we passed through the crowd and to the main doors. The night air was cool, but not crisp, and the stars out in full array. Being in the country did have its benefits. I kept walking and he kept up along side of me as the Pipeline disappeared behind us. “You know what you’re doing?” He asked me as we walked. “Yup.” It was a straight answer. I did. I had never done this before but I did know what I was doing. I’d heard of other people doing this and now it was my chance. I led him out back, to the quiet and dark lot where the cars were parked. “This way.” He grabbed my hand and led me to his truck. The bed of the truck was shielded from the sky by a raised cap in back and I could see that it was outfitted for sleep. “You want this?” He asked me, giving me my last out. “Yeah.” I put my hands on his vest, bunched them up tight, and pulled him to me. I kissed him hard and long, the best way I knew how, my tongue playing with his. He tasted like smoke and beer. I imagined I tasted much the same. His hands found a home on my hips and pulled me closer to him, rubbing his erection against my middle. I kept kissing him, doing my best to impress him with my skill. His hands found their way to my breasts, muscular fingers with thick knuckles caressing, kneading, and teasing. “Enough.” He breathed against my ear. I didn’t need to be told twice. I spread my legs and did a bit of rubbing of my own, teasing him. I could hear him growl as he broke the kiss and put his hands on my ass, helping me push myself backwards underneath the rim and into the padding.. I started to kick off my own cowboy boots and move my fingers to my blue jeans, struggling to remove them as well. I looked up to see his hands going for his own belt. I won the race, having been given a head start, and kicked a leg of my jeans free. That wound up being all we needed. He put a hand to my crotch and groaned as he felt my wet underwear. I gritted my teeth and swore under my breath not only at his touch but upon realizing I’d worn the pair with daises. Who the hell tries to seduce a man wearing daises? Thankfully, he didn’t seem to notice or mind. Instead he thrust his finger inside of me, sliding in on my wetness, and it was my turn to moan. He worked it back and forth, thumb riding my clit, and I felt my first orgasm build. The free hand was on my breast, freeing it from my button down shirt and bra to suck upon the nipple. He was far from gentle. I was in heaven. The flooding that began must have triggered some primal switch because he freed his dick and was teasing me with it. I couldn’t see it and I suppose that wound up being for the best because I had no clue of his size until he started to rub, and then enter me. Even though I was wet, it took him a bit to work it in and he growled the whole time. I did what anyone would do when being attacked by an animal you can’t escape; I layed there and let it go. He finally worked his head in me and took a deep breath… he pulled up his shirtsleeve and I found my mouth full of flannel. “Don’t make a sound.” With a quick thrust he was inside and the sound he didn’t want me to make almost escaped the cloth. Tears streamed down my face as the pain set in, the burning sensation, and I could feel myself go dry. I had never been so full. I can’t explain the pressure upon my flesh imposed upon by his tool. I thought childbirth had to be easier. “Come on, sugar.” He worked it in and out, and to my surprise I grew wet again. I was further mystified when pain turned to pleasure and I became wet once more. As he thrust I found myself moaning into that shirt and when he removed the flannel to kiss me I licked my lips and had at him, my arms reaching around to hold him, my legs spread eagle, feet in the air. He pulled me down more, raised my legs, and got in deeper than anything had ever been before. I felt him bottom out at my cervix and winced with the sweet pain. Nothing before or since has ever felt so good. I was drenched once more, my legs spread as far apart as possible to allow him maximum entry as he slammed himself into me again and again. My nails worked their way under his shirt and I scratched the hell out of him. We reached climax at roughly the same time, he growled as he let go and I could have whooped for joy. When we were done he eased himself out of me and I could feel the cum dribbling out from between my soaked legs. He shrugged out of his vest and handed me his shirt to clean myself up with. I did so, not looking at him, not looking at much of anything. When I was done I noticed bits of blood but nothing serious. I tried to hand it back to him. He shook his head. “Keep it, Kitten. I’ll come back for it later.” He zipped his jeans up and took a moment to wrap an arm around my waist and pull me to him. The kiss was long and slow, so deep I had to grab his shirt with my free hand. I felt like I was falling. “I’ll be back for you too, sugar.” I stumbled away when he let me go and he walked around to the cab, shirtless, moon drenching his muscular back and tight ass. He got inside, started up the engine, and I had to step away to let him pull out. He backed up until he was even with me and looked me straight in the eye. “Stay safe.” He pulled away and I stood awkwardly in a cloud of exhaust, tasting it and him upon my lips. When I returned to the bar alone, Jason was waiting for me in one of the booths. “So, how did it go?” He looked me over, raising a brow at my disheveled appearance. I set his shirt on the table and ran my hand across it. “He’ll be back for me.” Enough Debbie examined the shirt collar again with a disgusted smirk on her face. She had enough of Scott's crap. This wasn't the first time she found lipstick on his clothing. Scott had been coming home late ever other evening from work and he expected her to stay home and wait and be his servant. Wash his cloths, make his dinner, keep the house clean. It was the same old thing day after day and she was tired of Scott lying to her about his affairs with these tramps he has been hanging with after work. Debbie knew that Scott always depended on her being there when he got home. It didn't matter to him that she accused him of cheating on her, he would just deny it. They argued for a week when she found a phone number stuck in pocket of his pants. When Debbie called the number, a man answered who happened to be the husband of the woman's name on the note. Scott yelled at her the next day for calling the number and trying to start trouble. She just didn't get it! Scott gets to screw around and she is supposed to stay at home like a dump housewife and take it. Debbie threatened Scott so many times with divorce and even told Scott she was going to find a man to screw. Of course, he would never believe her. Scott knew Debbie didn't have the guts to go out and screw someone. Debbie knew that as well and she loved Scott but she would like to give him something to think about. Maybe if she just went out to a bar or club somewhere and just had a couple drinks and maybe listened to music. Debbie laughed to herself as she thought about coming home and telling Scott she was out at a bar dancing with other men. He'd be jealous and he might even be mad but at least he would see that she wasn't going to stay here at home any more and act like a little innocent housewife and turn her back to his infidelity. The next morning Debbie was on her way to the mall to shop for a new dress. Her mind was in deep thought. She told Scott last night that she was going out to buy a new dress. He was curious to know why she needed a new dress. She didn't give him an answer but made herself perfectly clear that she wasn't going to stay home while he messed around on her any longer. She heard the typical story about how she was imagining these things. Scott told her to go out and buy the new dress if it made her happy. Scott even went as far as to tell her she could go out if she wanted. Scott said he had to work late this Friday and didn't care if she went out to "See a movie" as he said. Yeah. Scott would never guess she would walk into a bar or club on her own. If he was going to cheat on her than at least she could go out and have a few drinks and maybe dance with a few guys. There were so many things missing in their marriage. After six years, Debbie wanted to have children. Scott allowed her to stop taking the pill two years ago but nothing ever happened. Scott finally went to a doctor and they told him he had a low sperm count. The doctor told him it was possible to conceive a child but he was never home long enough to practice. Debbie tried everything with Scott, wearing sexy lingerie and surprising him late at night when he came home. Debbie wasn't stupid. She was only turning a blind eye on what was really going on. He was screwing other women and she was in denial. He'd come home drunk and smelling from perfume and liquor and wouldn't have any interest in having sex. She was going to turn thirty this June and what did she have to show for six years of marriage? Scott was a cheating husband that didn't seem to care about her or her feelings. Debbie found a dress in one of the specialty shops. It was black halter styled dress which tied around the neck. A plunging neckline allowed a peak at her cleavage. It tied around the waist with a thin ribbon and was asymmetrical around the hem, revealing her right leg far above her knee. She bought matching black heels and a nice black pair of panties'. The material was thin but she couldn't wear a bra because of the plunging back. The black dress contrasted with her long blonde hair. Scott didn't ask her anything about shopping for a new dress that night, Debbie figured he must have forgot or wasn't interested. She assumed that he didn't believe her when she said she was going out Friday night. At coffee Friday morning, Scott mentioned to Debbie not to fix dinner because he was going to be late. She didn't bother reminding him that she was going out that night. Debbie showered and got dressed early that evening. She was happy the way the dress looked and finished applying her makeup. She used her favorite perfume and when she was ready to go, she placed a note on the bed for Scott letting him know she went out dancing. Debbie drove along the busy street which was about a mile outside Tampa. She finally saw one of the clubs she had on her mind and pulled into the parking lot. She was nervous as she got out of the car. She already felt dirty walking toward the building wearing the sexy black dress. It wasn't that she had anything on her mind like picking up a guy. She just didn't feel right tonight. Debbie walked through the door, there were men starring at her when she walked past them. She found an empty seat at the bat and sat down and ordered a drink. She looked around the club while sipping her drink through the straw trying to see what kinds of people were in the club. She saw a few couples dancing but it seemed as if there were more singles lurking around. It didn't take long before a few guys started to ask her to dance and at first Debbie turned them down than after awhile she started to accept their offers. Debbie spent most of her time on the dance floor and after four hours at the club, she must have danced with more than twenty different men and had more than a dozen drinks bought for her. Debbie laughed at herself, as she thought that she could go out to a club like this and never buy a drink. Luckily she was able to talk with the bar tender and he started to make her drinks really weak for her so she wouldn't get too drunk. Debbie was sitting back at the bar listening to the music when a man with a deep voice whispered into her ear, "May I ask you to dance?" Debbie turned her head and saw a tall black man standing behind her so she nervously smiled at him and didn't want to be rude and accepted his offer to dance. They danced a couple songs and the man introduced himself as Jason as he followed her back to the bar. Jason had to stand next to Debbie while they spoke, the other stools were taken in the crowded club. Jason seemed like a nice guy as he got acquainted with Debbie. Debbie learned that Jason was single and had just returned form being in Iraq for a year. She told him she was married and had just visited the club for the very first time to have a few drinks and listen to the music. As they spoke, the club kept filling up with more people. Jason suggested going to a bar across the street that he knew that wouldn't be so crowded. Debbie was reluctant to go with him but she changed her mind several minutes later. The place was directly across the street so Debbie decided to leave her car parked where it was. Jason escorted her inside the small bar and easily found an empty booth. They ordered drinks and sat talking. Debbie had drunk enough liquor that she began telling Jason her problems about her husband. Under normal conditions she wouldn't have opened up as much as she was to this strange black man but she really wanted to talk about it to someone. Debbie learned that Jason was single and had just returned from a duty in Iraq. When he had returned home, he found out his girlfriend ran off with another man and got married. Debbie never opened up to any man in her life other than her husband and found Jason rather handsome and extremely pleasant. The more they spoke and got acquainted, the more relaxed she had become. Debbie was doing most of the talking, telling Jason her life story as they sat very close in the booth. Debbie had never got to know a black man before tonight. She had an opportunity to date someone in high school who was black but never took him up on the offer. Debbie reached out to touch Jason's hand several times as she sat there explaining what was going on with her husband. Jason moved his hand to hold hers as she continued to talk. Debbie was so busy talking she didn't realize they were holding hands. Within a few minutes, Jason's arm was around her shoulder and they were sitting close together toward the center of the booth. Jason made a bold move and gently kissed Debbie on the lips. She returned his kiss bringing her hand to his cheek as their tongues mingled. They continued to kiss as Jason moved his free hand down and began stroking her upper thigh area. Debbie wasn't wearing any stockings so his hand moved freely until it reached the material of her panties. Debbie's eyes were closed as they kissed and she waited to feel Jason's hand on her pussy but instead, brought his hand up to her low cleavage and slipped his hand under her dress and cupped her tit in his hand. Debbie's eyes were closed and she slowly opened her mouth as she felt Jason begin to massage her soft skin. He began moving his thumb on her nipple which was all ready hard. Jason kissed Debbie's open mouth sending his tongue inside as she moaned. Suddenly. Debbie thought about the situation and broke their kiss saying, "Jason. I don't think I should be doing this." Jason only kissed her again as he continued massaging her tit and playing with her nipple. She opened her eyes and backed her head away a few inches and looked into his eyes as he massaged her tit. Debbie was turned on feeling his thumb playing with her nipple and felt her pussy getting warm as she kissed him again. Her mind was thinking about what she was doing at that moment. She was kissing a black man, a man that was a complete stranger a couple hours ago. The fact that she was being kissed and touched by a black man was exciting her. She was kissing him back poking her own tongue into his mouth now. Jason was moving his hand from one tit to the other leaving her tits totally exposed. The bar was very dark and nobody seemed to be looking or even carried about them. If anyone walked to the booth at that moment they would get an eye full of Debbie's huge tits as Jason played with them. Debbie didn't expect Jason to bend down and kiss them but that's exactly what he did as she wrapped her hand around the back of his head pulling him tighter into her tits. Debbie kept pushing Jason's face into her chest as he licked her tits. She was stroking the back of his head as she tightened her body and moved her free hand around and held her tit to his mouth as he continued to suck it. Jason raised his head and kissed her again than said, "Why don't you and I go back to my place and we can continue there." "I can't . . . It wouldn't be right . . . Jason . . . I just can't . . . You know I'm married." Jason had a disappointed expression on his face as Debbie covered her tits with the thin material of the dress. She glanced at her watch saying, "I better leave for home, its getting late." Jason pulled out an ink pen and wrote his phone number on a napkin and gave it to Debbie saying, "I want you to call me, I'm really interested in seeing you again." Debbie smiled at Jason giving him another kiss than began sliding across the seat and stood up holding onto the table saying. "Oh. I don't think I can stand up right now." Jason reached out to help steady her from falling saying, "I'll walk you to your car." Jason walked Debbie across the street holding her from falling several times and when they reached the parking lot, Jason said. "I don't think its safe for you to drive, let me drive you home in my car." "I can't let you drive me home, my husband might see your car and wonder who drove me home." "Fine. We'll take your car and I'll call a cab once we get to your place to bring me back here." Debbie reluctantly gave Jason her car keys knowing she couldn't drive herself. It took almost an hour until they pulled into Debbie's driveway, Scott's car was in front of the garage. Debbie took the car keys back from Jason saying, "Wait outside while I go in the house and see if my husband is asleep and call you a cab." Jason got out of the car and stood near the garage door as Debbie went into the house. Debbie unlocked the front door and entered the dark house and gently closed the door behind her not wanting to wake Scott. Debbie walked toward the back of the house and heard something coming from their room. She walked down the hallway and saw a dim light in their bedroom. Debbie carefully peered around the doorway and gasped when she saw a woman sitting on top of Scott with his cock fully impaled inside her pussy. Debbie just stood in the doorway in shock as she watched the blonde woman holding the palm of her hands on Scott's chest to balance herself as she sat on his cock. The woman was chanting. "Fuck me. Fuck me hard." Debbie's heart sank and she wanted to scream and run in the room and pull that woman off her husband by her hair. She stood there for a few moments longer and began to cry. Debbie ran down the hall and walked out the front door into Jason's arms as she cried as hard as she could. Jason wondered what was wrong but held her tight until she was finally able to speak. "My husband has a woman in our bedroom and he's fucking the bitch right now." Debbie continued to cry as Jason held her tight allowing her to cry on his shoulder. She cried for several minutes until she finally wiped her eyes and looked into Jason's eyes saying. "Maybe I should go in there and let them know I saw them. Why don't you come into the house with me in case I need your help?" She took Jason's hand and walked into the house and told Jason to wait in the living room while she confronted her husband in the bedroom. Debbie walked back to the room and looked inside and saw her husband on top of the woman fucking her. She got there just as he began groaning and watched Scott's ass twitching and knew he was filling her pussy with his seed. Debbie flipped the light switch on and Scott and the blonde woman starred at the doorway looking at Debbie. Scott yelled out. "Debbie." Scott started to climb off the woman and walk toward the doorway but Debbie backed away and ran down the hall into the living room and into Jason's arms. Scot was running behind her and caught up to her in the living room and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw his wife standing in the center of the room being held by a tall black man. "What the hell is this?" Scott started to walk toward them as Debbie yelled, "Stop it. Go back and fuck that whore you brought into our house and leave me alone." "Who is this man? What were you doing tonight out picking up men at the bar? You had to go out and pick up a nigger?" "Don't you ever call him that? You have no right to call anyone that nasty word. Leave me alone and get that woman out of my house." Scott was walking forward again as Debbie reached out and slapped his face saying, "How dare you come out here and talk to someone like that after finding you screwing a woman on our bed in our bedroom. How dare you?" Jason stood behind Debbie watching them argue but making sure that nobody got hurt. Scott pointed his finger at Jason saying, "I want you to get out of my house right now and don't ever come back." Jason didn't want to cause any more problems and began to turn around to walk out the door when Debbie replied. "Wait. I don't want you to leave as long as he has his whore with him he can have her. You're my friend and I want you to stay here with me tonight." The other woman walked out into the living room to see what was going on, she had wrapped one of Debbie's towels around her body and was standing behind Scott. Debbie reached out and grabbed the towel away from her saying. "Bring your own towel if you want to fuck my husband from now on. You go right ahead and enjoy yourself with him, you can have him." Debbie and Scoot argued for another twenty minutes until Jason threatened to call the police before somebody got hurt. Scott finally gave in and asked Debbie if he could speak to her along. She was very upset and Scott tried to take her hold of her arm as they walked toward the kitchen but she pushed him away. Debbie crossed her arms together as she asked. "Is that the woman you have been seeing for the past several months?" Scott reluctantly replied and told Debbie, he had been seeing her and she worked at his office. Her name was Stacy and she was married. Scott apologized and said he was sorry for what he had done but Debbie wasn't buying any of it. She stood listening to his excuses and his pleading for her forgiveness but Debbie stood firm telling him she would have a lot to think about. Scott said something to Debbie that shocked her and caught her completely off guard. "Honey. Stacy lives about twenty-five miles from here and her husband is out of town for the weekend. Would it be all right if she spent the night in the guest room?" Debbie was very angry but she kept her cool as she calmly replied. "No. I don't want her to stay in the guest room. Why don't you just let her sleep in our bedroom tonight with us and we can have a threesome together?" Scott must have had a lot to drink himself because Debbie was being a smart ass and he thought she was serious and quickly replied to her statement. "Honey. I never thought you'd want to have sex with another woman. That's a great idea, I'll go tell Stacy what you would like her to do and tell that black guy he can leave now." "No wait! Let me go out and tell Stacy she can stay with us tonight." If only Scott knew how angry he had made his wife to become but he was about to find out as he followed her back into the living room where Jason and Stacy were waiting. Debbie gave the towel back to Stacy and smiled saying. "Scott asked me to tell you it was all right to spend the night with us and I told him it was fine. You can go back into the bedroom and wait for Scott, he'll be joining you in a moment." Stacy just starred at Debbie knowing that something wasn't right about the woman's smirk but backed away and walked toward the bedroom. Scott had a relieved expression on his face as he walked over to Jason and shook his hand saying. "Well. It was nice meeting you. Thank you for bringing my wife home." Scott was showing him the door until Debbie interrupted him. "Scott. Wait. You go find out what Stacy is doing and if you want, you can get started without me. I'll be in shortly." Scott smiled at Debbie figuring that she wanted to walk Jason out the door and went into the bedroom. Debbie waited until the bedroom door closed and walked over to Jason and put her arms around him and kissed his lips. "I want you to spend the night with me." "I don't know if that's a good idea. Your husband was very angry and I know you would like to kill that woman. Maybe it would be best if I left." "No. My husband told me he wanted Stacy to stay here tonight and I finally gave in and told him it would be fine. Now let me show you the guest room." Debbie walked Jason to the guest room and held him as she kissed him again once they were standing in the room. Debbie was holding him as she whispered, "Get undressed and I'll be in here shortly." She unbuttoned his shirt before she walked out of the room and looked back toward Jason before leaving and said, "Be ready for me, I'll be right back." Debbie entered their bedroom and saw Stacy sucking Scott's cock as she walked to the dresser and took out a black baby doll from the drawer. Enough She walked into the attached bathroom and took her dress off and hung it behind the door. She slipped her panties off next and decided to leave the heels on as she pulled the teddy over her head and fluffed out her hair over the material. She squirted a dab of perfume around her tits and another neat her pussy and applied a fresh coat of red lipstick and smacked her lips together. Debbie walked out into the bedroom and stood next to the bed watching her husband getting his cock sucked by Stacy who was laying on her side between his legs. Debbie smiled at him as he said. "Honey. She's so good giving head. Watch how deep she can take my cock into her throat." Debbie stood watching Stacy swallow her husband's cock listening to the sound of her throat as the head reached the back of her mouth. Scott reached out and began rubbing Debbie's pussy mound while his other hand stroked Stacy's hair. "Yes, she quite a little cock sucker isn't she?" Debbie leaned down and kissed her husband on top of his head and gently backed away until he couldn't reach her pussy any longer. "Honey. I'm a little tired right now and think I'll go lay down for a while in the guests' bedroom. I'll let you have a little fun with Stacy while I get a couple hours of sleep and than I'll come back and join you two." "But . . . Debbie . . . Are you sure its all right . . . I mean . . . Don't you want to join us? ....." "I promise . . . I'll be back in a couple hours and check up on you two." Debbie walked out of the bedroom but not before turning one more time and looking at Stacy's mouth filled with her husband's cock. She knew what she was going to do. She didn't want to keep Jason waiting any longer and walked down the hall. Enough He was late yet again. He was always late, though. The rain was pouring and thunder clapped loudly as I sat in the living room yet again, twirling my empty wine glass in one hand, the other holding a burning cigarette. Normally I wouldn't be so pissed about him being late. But the fact that I had found a phone number in his sock drawer this morning made everything different. Some chick named Tracy -the slut even put 'xoxo' right below her number. I should have packed my shit up and left. But... I'm feeling gracious today and besides... slow torture is better. This wasn't the first time he had accidentally left another woman's phone number in one of his drawers. But before I had ignored it. "Not ignoring it now." I mumbled, putting my cigarette out when I heard the lock turn slowly. The clock read two in the morning. I set my wine glass on the coffee table and stood, adjusting my silk robe. His tall frame entered the doorway cautiously, clearly unaware of my presence. I rolled my eyes as he slipped his shoes off and hung his coat on the hook by the front door. He turned around and immediately paled when he saw me. He stammered for a minute, looking for the right words to say other than 'hi' or 'I'm sorry'. They weren't going to work this time. "I waited up for you." My voice was sickeningly sweet as I let my silk robe slip down my arms and spill onto the floor. I had bought a new pink lace bra and underwear set around noon in a fit of rage. He drank in the sight. I smiled. His hands slipped around me, pulling my body against his warm one. I sighed gently and kissed his neck, my hands burying in his shaggy black hair. Too bad ..he is such a good lover, I thought warily. Too bad for him I've had enough, I reminded myself quickly. "You work too hard..." I said softly, leading him back to our bedroom. He chuckled and followed me, stopping me to plant kisses on my lips and neck every so often. What I was planning was mean and heartless, but I've had enough. We ended up on the bed in a fit of heavy kissing and grinding. He moved and touched in all the right places and made me ache for him, just like he always did. "Do you trust me?" He rose a brow and grinned, "Of course baby." I chuckled to myself, sliding off his half naked body, somewhere along the way I had lost my brand new bra. I trailed my fingers lightly down his thigh as I made my way to the closet, winking at him over my shoulder on the way. He shuddered and smiled back. God he was gorgeous. I clicked on the closet light and stepped in, there was my suitcase full of my clothes. I would get the rest later. I took a deep breath and cleared my head, I can do this. I wrapped my fingers around cool silk scarves and stepped back out of the closet, sighing gently at him. "Whatcha got there baby?" he asked, a warm smile on his face. I bit the inside of my cheek, forcing down the urge to change my mind. He had won me over with his damn smile in the first place, after all. As much as I loved him, I wasn't going to let him treat me like this anymore. I held up the black silk material, grinning. I had bought them around three, in a outburst of jealousy. "Just relax" I soothed. He was never the one to be tied before and I knew he was a little wary of the idea. I made sure his hands were tied tightly, then kissed his lips gently. "You okay?" "I'll get use to it." he mumbled, but grinned anyways. I smirked down at him and climbed next to him, kissing his chest. "You just need to enjoy for once." I made my way down his body, nipping with my teeth, scraping gently with my nails and licking his skin. He always liked that. He reacted with short gasps and grunts. I grinned. My fingers hooked under the waistband of his briefs and I slid them down slowly, his erect member standing to attention. Such a waste, I thought. My palm skimmed the head of his cock. He hissed a foul word and bit his bottom lip. I bent my head down to kiss his inner thigh, nipping gently. Slowly, I worked my way up to his member, licking him from base to tip. His hips jerked slowly and he mumbled something -I didn't understand him. My lips wrapped around the head of his cock, sucking gently, teasing him. One hand wrapped around his shaft and stroked his erection with a lazy speed, I knew it was killing him that I wasn't going any faster. He grunted in frustration, bucking his hips into my hand. I slid my lips as far as I could down his member, taking in his length. He always loved that, especially when I palmed his sac like I was now. Bobbing my head up and down his member, listening to his quiet moans and primal grunts. I loved it. My tongue worked his erection and I sucked a bit harder, getting a good pace now before I slowly slid my lips off him and looked at his face. His eyes were half closed, his lips parted in mid-moan. His dark brows drawn together in confusion and want. I smirked then took a nice long, slow lick of his member again. Base to tip. Base to tip. I continued this a few more times before he swore in complete frustration. Then I nipped his inner thigh, stroking his cock slowly in a torturous speed. He bucked his hips and pleaded for more. I ignored him. I cupped his sac once more, massaging it gently in my palm while I sucked the head of his cock, twirling my tongue around the bulb and every once in a while, sliding my lips down his shaft as far as I could. His legs were trembling, breathing came out ragged and I knew he was close to the edge so I slipped my lips off him. "Baby please..." he whispered, beads of sweat scattering his brow and chest. I smirked and crawled up his body, rubbing my lace covered sex against his erection as I kissed him roughly, biting at his lips and sucking his tongue, making him taste himself on me. He groaned heavily into the kiss, bucking up against me, needing the friction. I scraped my nails down his sides and bucked against him, the sweet friction causing a groan to escape my lips. He always felt so good. He sucked on my bottom lip and bucked hard against me and I gasped, digging my fingernails into his shoulders slightly, making him grunt. "Need you." I heard him loud and clear, quickly stripping my panties off and tossing them behind me as I straddled him, rubbing my wet core against his hard cock. He swore and took in a deep breath. I then took his cock in my hand and directed it to my entrance, rubbing the head of his member against me slowly. He groaned loudly and arched his back, trying to push himself inside me. I dipped my hips down far enough so he entered me fully, stretching my insides. I panted and he grunted, bucking into me. It was good. It was always good. I slipped off his member, making him swear loudly and glare at me in a pleading sort of way. It felt way too good to tease him to the brink of insanity. He was so close and I knew I was driving him mad. And he knew that I knew. I reached up to the nightstand, and opened the drawer, purposely rubbing my breasts in his face. He kissed and licked my nipples, earning a sigh of pleasure from me. The last one. I grabbed Tracy's number and hid it in my hand while I sat back and slid back onto his erection, riding his cock slowly. He groaned and bucked his hips, his brow sweaty and creased. I moaned, throwing my head back as I made a figure eight with my hips, grinding my clit on his pelvic bone. We both moaned, needing more. The sex was amazing... it was always amazing. His cock filled my tight core up and stretched me to my pleasure as I rode him, sweat starting to drip down my neck. I smirked down at him and stopped moving. After I slid off his body, and off the bed, he gave me a pleading and confused look. "Baby whats going on?" "Why don't you tell me?" His body was rock hard, aching and needy. It was priceless when I showed him the piece of paper and read off the number and name. He sighed heavily and dropped his head back onto his pillow. "Baby that's nothing... come on." "Fuck you. Don't call me baby!" And I left him there. I left him tied up to the bed naked as the day he was born. I left him and ignored his apologies. I ignored his frustrated pleas. And I ignored his angry yelling as I packed the rest of my stuff up and headed towards the door. God I was going to miss him. Enough Bickering! Gavin Brock was a highly paid, well-educated advertising executive, making well over $500,000 a year, plus expenses. He had plenty of reasons to be pleased with his life, but, lately, he was tired of the office politics at his company, where he was part of the management team. The constant bickering, backstabbing, and squabbling were wasting a lot of the company's energy, that could be better used to push its success and profit margin. Gavin was also a telepath, unknown to his colleagues, which was no small part of his corporate success. He was able to "convince" his potential clients to go with him, rather than the competition. His talent had landed him the post of executive vice president responsible for negotiations. This made him the boss of the majority of the corporate staff. It meant that he had a secretary, several interns, and a few other perks. However, he noticed, especially in his division at the corporate headquarters, that he could not prevent the infighting and intrigue that was troubling the company. Furthermore, he was tired of the PC nonsense, such as silly "sexual harassment" rules, that was handed down by the board. He had to get around that, because he found that "dipping his pen in the company ink" was something he really wanted to implement as a personal policy. Those damned lawyers and feminists were ruining everything! Well, Gavin thought, the time to act had come! His new secretary, by the terms of the new corporate guidelines, was strictly verboten, but he was not about to let political correctness get in the way of personal and professional success. The company would run much smoother, if everyone screwed each other blind now and often. "Natasha, come in here for a sec, will ya?", he said to the 36 year old divorcee he had hired to type and answer phones for him. She had no idea what was on his mind, but she was about to experience it. "Yes, Mr. Brock.", she said, scurrying inside his office. "Show some more leg, baby!", a voice inside her head suddenly told her. She could not help but give in to the notion, especially as turned on as she was by the 43 year old bachelor. She had been pleasantly surprised when he hired her, both because she thought that a younger woman would get the job, and because she wanted to take things further than was professional with him, but did not know how to get him to defy the corporate rules. Natasha was divorced because her hubby had left her for a younger, "trophy" wife, despite her love and affection for him, not to mention her efforts to satisfy him in bed. Needless to say, her self-esteem was not at its highest point when she had been hired, and was only slightly improved by her selection. She did not know if she had the stuff inside herself to be a seductress. Somehow, however, she found herself making the attempt, anyway. Another voice spoke, "Bend over the desk, and show him some of your cleavage." She complied with that voice, as well. "Why, Natasha, if I didn't know better, I would say that you were teasing me!", Gavin told her, not letting her have a hint about his hand in her sudden sexual aggression. "I'm sorry, sir, but I was not teasing- I did not mean to create that impression, sir!", she stammered. "Okay, I believe you, but what was your intent?" "Do you want to know the honest truth?" "Yes." "I won't get in trouble?" "Not unless you lie to me." "I kinda wanted to seduce you, as ridiculous as that sounds, I'm sure. I'm so embarrassed." "What so ridiculous about that?" "I don't know, except that I'm not really young enough to please a confirmed bachelor, I suppose. I am a divorced, thirtysomething mother, with the inevitable stretch marks to prove it." "So, what? Do you think that all men want only women in their 20s, with D cup bosoms?" "I hadn't thought about it that way, but I guess that individual men would have their own tastes. That's logical enough, but I am not used to the idea of men finding me attractive. I couldn't even keep my husband." "That's his loss, his problem- not yours. He's obviously a man with dubious taste, no doubt leaving you for a 'trophy wife'." "Yeah, something like that." "Well, I happen to find you extremely attractive, both physically and otherwise, and I would love to have a little tryst with you, as long as you won't be jealous." "I promise, sir, no jealousy! I would love to have a man find me desirable enough for once to get it on with me for a little fling!" "Then, you can help me get rid of the boner that you gave me with your cleavage and your legs, if you don't mind." "How?" "How? Use your head, Natasha, literally! Suck his cock!", the voice told her. She obeyed it yet again, unzipping his pants, grabbing his cock, and starting to lick, suck, and kiss his dick with her mouth. She loved the taste too, she had to admit. It was much nicer than her ex-husband's penis, which was smaller, and lacked the texture of Gavin's stiff rod. His pre-cum even tasted better than her ex-husband's. "Seems that you figured it out very well, didn't you, Natasha?", Gavin remarked, between gasps, as his excitement grew with her oral efforts. "Tell him, 'Yes, Master'! That will blow his mind! He loves a slave girl!", the voice informed her. "Yes, Master!" "Master?" "Yes, did I say something wrong, sir?" "No, it's just that your sudden submissive behavior was quite a shock, not that I am complaining!" "May I keep calling you 'Master'- I have to admit that it's a serious turn-on!", Natasha asked him. "Yes, but prove yourself as a slave- keep sucking me off, until I cum, and then swallow it, okay, baby?" "Yes, Master!" Natasha could not help herself- she was indeed quite aroused at acting in a servile manner with her boss. No wonder she was always desperate for male love and affection- she was born to serve and submit to a man, or to men in general, at least! She deep-throated her new master, and kept licking away at his dick, running her tongue along its sides, and building the pressure for him to cum. Finally, he ejaculated, and without any complaints, she swallowed the entire load of semen. She even winked at him as she gulped it down. "Ah, Master, thank you! You have made happier than I have ever been, but I have to confess, I now want more than just a fling with you- you have made me feel sexy and beautiful, to the point, that I have been feeling some serious gratitude, as well as affection for you. I am afraid to admit it, but I can't deny that I want you permanently. I know that's a lot for a first-time encounter, and only oral at that, but I am rather vulnerable, and I feel so feminine, being in this subservient position, that I want to be there with you for life! Can I please be your sex slave, for the rest of my life?" "Do you understand what that means?" "Tell him that you are willing to share him with other women!", the voice spoke to her. "That you want me to share you with other women? I'm fine with that, as long as I get to be your slave. I want desperately to be your slave- that's what will make me happiest!" "Good girl, and I will gladly take you as my slave, with the understanding that you have just accepted. Also, this will mean more than kinky bedroom behavior- it means a lifestyle, of pleasing me first, ahead of yourself- can you accept that?" "Yes, Master!" "Good girl, and I have a little confession of my own. I am a telepath, and that voice in your head is from me. I have been telling you what to say, to attract and please me- what do you think of that?" "Oh, my God!" "Yes, it's a shock to most people, but it is true." "It must be true, Master, or you wouldn't know about the voice in my head." "Smart girl! Very perceptive, to gather that much from that one fact! From now on, if I want to give you commands, that I don't want others to know about yet, I will use telepathy with you, so don't be surprised about that." "Yes, Master! What kind of secret commands?" "I plan to use my powers to put an end to the petty office politics, by making people have sex with each other, and each other's partners, on a regular basis." "Excellent plan, Master! I would love to help you make this company run smoother! Thank you, sir, for entrusting me with this information." "Good girl, you're making your Master very happy and proud! Now, we have an office party tomorrow to turn into an orgy, so let's get to work. Thankfully, this is an adults-only thing." "Yes, of course, that is good, Master!" To be continued....