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The Relay

By: Just Plain Bob



Her tongue lovingly licked the cock. It swirled around the bulbous purple head and I tingled in anticipation. I could feel her eyes on mine as her hot mouth opened and engulfed the head of the cock. It took all of my will power not to burst out of the closet and rush to the bed to claim what was rightfully mine. Instead, I sat perfectly still and watched as my wife of twenty years sucked the cock of one of my coworkers - a coworker who thought I was miles away on an overnight business trip. Nancy's head bobbed up and down while her fingers massaged his balls and before very long Charlie grabbed her head in his hands and started thrusting up at her face. Nancy pushed his hands away, took her mouth from his cock and as I watched the saliva drip from her lips she laughed and said, "Not so fast - not so fast!" She moved her body and swung a leg over Charlie, and holding his cock at the entrance to her body she looked over at the closet as she slowly lowered herself onto the stiff pole. I ached for relief, but my hard cock had to be left untouched. I had promised I would not cum until I could take my sloppy seconds.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

You might be asking how a staid old married couple could find themselves in such a situation. I was in my closet because a $13.00 relay failed at, depending on your point of view, either the right or wrong time. 

Some background - Nancy is forty-two, has shoulder length silky brown hair, hazel eyes and a body that some would call either voluptuous or pleasingly plump. Whatever you call it, it had no trouble generating hardons in most men - especially in the men who gathered at our house one night a month for a poker game. The location had rotated from home to home and was usually held at our house once every six weeks, but for the past six months due to such circumstances as divorce, death in the family, etc., there were only two of us who had enough room to host the game. As a result the game was being held at our house every other week. 

On game nights Nancy would usually set up a snack buffet and then go out with her girl friends, or to the library, or see a movie. When she left I would usually pat her on the ass and say something like, "Tell whoever you pick up that he has to have you home by midnight" and she would chuckle as she went out the door. I thought I was being witty, but what I was doing was planting ideas in the heads of several guys who really wanted to fuck her. Looking back I remember one night when I made such a remark after Nancy was gone one of the guys asked, "She doesn't really pick up guys, does she?"

"Why?" I had responded, "Don't you think she could?" 

"Hell no!" he said, "She could get anyone she wants.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

On the fateful night that changed our lives, Nancy did what she usually did. She covered the dining room table with a green table cloth, made a pot of coffee in the 30 cup urn, set out the snacks and checked to make sure there was enough ice on the beer. By the time all the guys had arrived she was ready to leave. She kissed me on the cheek and said, "Win baby -win." 

I patted her on the ass and said, "Try not to hurt him too bad."

She gave the usual chuckle as she headed for the door, but that night, for the first time ever, she made a comment as she went out the door. Over her shoulder she said, "I'm not even sure his wife will let him come out and play tonight" and then she was gone. I saw the guy's exchange looks, but I didn't give it a thought.

About an hour into the game the phone rang. It was my swing shift foreman calling to tell me that one of the presses had broken down in the middle of a critical run. Since I was the On Call Manager for the weekend I was required to go back into work and to try and solve the problem. I explained the situation to the guys and told them to play on, no need to break up a good game, but I probably would not be home before they left. It took me thirty minutes to get to work and as soon as I walked in the door the foreman came up to me and told me he was just getting ready to call me and tell me not to come in. They had found a bad relay, replaced it and the machine was up and running again. I told him to have a nice weekend and I headed home. 

Nancy's car was in the drive when I got home and I walked past it on the way into the garage to get some more beer. I was coming up the back porch step and I saw Nancy at the kitchen sink rinsing glasses. I was just about to open the door when I saw Norm come into the kitchen and walk up behind her; he had his cock out and he walked up behind Nancy, pressed his erect cock against her ass and reached around to grab her tits. Nancy laughed and said, "Harold! Stop that!" 

Nancy thought it was me. Norm let go of her tits and pushed her forward over the sink as he lifted her skirt and all the while Nancy kept saying, "Stop that Harold - quit that." 

Norm moved his knees between her legs causing them to spread. He pushed the crotch strap of her panties aside and positioned his cock to enter her; she must have been wet and ready because when Norm pushed forward his cock met almost no resistance. 

"Oh God, that feels good," moaned Nancy, "but stop it honey, before your friends walk in on us."

Do not ask me why I didn't rush in and smack Norm in the mouth. Don't ask why I didn't just open the door and holler, "Hey! Stop that shit!" Don't ask - because I can't give you an answer. I don't know why I stood there and watched Norm fuck my wife any more than Nancy knew why she'd made the married man comment. All I knew is that I was frozen to the porch and my dick was getting very hard. 

Nancy's feet were off the floor now and she was supporting herself by holding onto the sink. Norm had his rhythm going now and as he pumped in and out Nancy kept telling him to stop. 

"Honey - you're going to embarrass me in front of your friends. Please stop baby, plea......oh, god that feels good." 

Norm spoke for the first time; "Harold ain't here Babe. Just me - good ole Norm." 

Nancy cried out, "Oh god, no. No. You can't do this. Stop it stop it, put me down damn you." 

"Sure I can. I am doing this. You came home early so obviously your married man couldn't get out, but don't worry, ole Norm can give you what you want." 

Just then Dave walked into the kitchen, "Norm, what's keeping...Damn. I got dibs on seconds." 

Norm turned holding Nancy by her hips while still thrusting into her. Nancy, her hands no longer on the sink for support, fell forward and her hands caught Dave's shoulders. While Dave stood there and supported her weight he was busy pulling out his fast hardening cock. Norm was apparently starting to push some of Nancy's buttons because she stopped pleading with him to quit and her cries turned into a series of moans, "Oh god oh god oh god yes yes fuck me fuck me." 

By now Dave's cock was fully erect and he stepped back. Once again, deprived of support, Nancy fell forward bending at the waist. Dave caught her by her shoulders and her hands went to the front of his thighs. Nancy's face was only inches from Dave's cock and for almost a minute she bounced on Norm's cock without moving her head, and then she slowly lowered her head and took Dave's cock in her mouth. Nancy rocked back and forth between them like a rag doll and then Dave said, "lets get more comfortable. Let's take her over to that chair" and he pointed at a chair by the kitchen table. 

Norm nodded ok and let Nancy down on her feet. Taking Nancy by the hand Norm headed for the chair and Nancy meekly followed and when Norm pulled out the chair Nancy asked, "What are we going to do?" 

Norm told her Dave was going to sit down on the chair and she was going to suck his cock while he fucked her from behind. While Dave was getting into position on the chair Nancy removed her panties and placed her hands on the arms of the chair. When Dave was ready she bent and her mouth engulfed his cock and it was at this point that my cock, which had been in my hand, erupted all over the screen door.

Norm stepped up behind Nancy, lined up his cock with her slit and drove into her just as Al and Sam came into the room. 

"Jesus Christ, you guys. Why didn't you call us?" 

While Al and Sam played with their cocks and argued about who would be next Norm picked up his tempo and dumped his load into Nancy. He pulled out and Sam, who had apparently won the argument, took his place. The next to cum (not counting Nancy who had probably cum at least twice by this point) was Dave. He grabbed Nancy's head and started to hump up at her and I saw white stuff leaking out of the corners of her mouth. Nancy lifted her face from Dave's lap and as he started to get up Al made as if to slide into his place. Nancy told him to wait and then told Sam to pull out so she could move. Next she had Sam sit down on the chair where she straddled him and lowered herself down onto his cock; she motioned Al forward and as his cock approached her mouth she said, "God, I haven't done anything like this since college. I'd forgotten how good a lot of cocks can be." Her words were cut off as Al's cock slipped between her lips. 

My eyes popped wide open when I heard that remark. Nancy and I had met in college. We had dated for over two months before she had even let me touch her tits. And all the while she was taking on a 'lot of cocks'? Boy did I ever feel stupid. Sam was the next to cum and he was followed shortly by Al. When Al pulled himself from her mouth Nancy looked around, "Someone's missing. Where's Mike?" 

"He went home an hour ago," said Al. 

"Too bad. Maybe I'll get him next time!" 

"Next time?" I thought, "There is going to be a next time?" 

Norm said, "I'm ready to go again. Let's find someplace more comfortable." 

Nancy said no. She said they had already pushed their luck and she needed to get cleaned up before I got home. 

"When can we do this again?" asked Dave. 

"Give me a couple of days," Nancy said, "and I'll call you and we can set something up."

That was my cue to get to my car and get it out of sight. I went to a local tavern and had a few beers and then called home to say I was on my way. "The guys still at it?" 

"No," she said, they finished and left."

When I got home I came in through the kitchen and I noticed that the cum stains had been cleaned from the floor. Nancy was in bed freshly showered and as I came into the room she threw off the covers and said, "I hope you are ready Harold, because I am especially horny tonight." 

As I slipped my dick into her I wondered what a cunt full of cum was going to feel like, but she must have douched because I didn't feel a thing. I can't even begin to tell how disappointed I felt.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Three days later Nancy told me she had a bridal shower to go to and that I shouldn't wait up for her. I debated as to whether or not I should bring up what I'd seen and challenge her 'bridal shower' story, but in the end I didn't. The night went very slowly for me. I tried to read a book, but I couldn't stay focused on it. I turned on the TV, but it couldn't hold my interest. It seemed like every time I looked at the clock only a minute or two had passed. I finally went to bed. Staring at the ceiling I replayed the kitchen scene in my mind and I wondered how many she was with tonight. Surely those who had been at the poker game. Was Mike there this time? 

I dozed off into a fit full sleep. The closing of the front door woke me. I glanced at the clock - 4:27 a.m. Nancy came quietly into the room trying not to wake me and was startled when I sat up in bed.

"Sorry Honey, I tried not to wake you." 

I said nothing as I walked over to her, picked her up and carried her to the bed. 

"Harold! What are you doing?" 

I did not answer as I lifted her skirt and took in the lack of panties and the wet and matted cunt hair. I could see by her eyes that she knew I'd caught her. 

"How many?" I asked. She made no reply and just looked at me with the look of a kid who had just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "How many?" I asked again. I could see tears welling in her eyes. 

"I saw you in the kitchen the other night. You fucked four guys. How many tonight?" She started crying. "Nancy, there is no need for you to cry. Look at this." And I took her hand and placed it on my hard aching cock." "Is this the sign of someone upset?" I let go of her hand, but it stayed on my dick. "How many?" In a halting voice she said, "Seven. 

"How many times?" 

Her hand was now stroking my cock and with a little more assurance in her voice she said, "At least twice each. It was probably more." 

I rolled over on top of her and as my cock found the entrance to her cum soaked cunt I asked "Who?" She hesitated. "Who Nancy? I want to know who!" I was starting to slowly fuck her and on each down stroke I asked, "Who?" 

She started to respond Her arms came up around my neck.

"Who?" as I drove down. 

"Al" she said. 

"Who?" 

"Sam." 

"Who?" 

"Dave." 

"Who?" 

"Norm." 

"Who?" 

"Mike." 

"Who?" 

"Mike's brother." 

"Who?" No answer. "Who?" Still no answer. "That's only six Nancy. Who is number seven?" No answer. "Come on Nancy. I have to know." 

"Oh God, you're going to hate me. I'm just a stupid slut." 

"Who Nancy, who?" 

"Alright damn you - it was the bell hop!" 

"The bell hop?" 

"Yes! The fucking bell hop. They ordered booze from room service and I fucked the bell hop for his tip!"

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

I fucked her until I was exhausted. I gave her a passionate kiss and then fell into a deep sleep. When I awoke Nancy was next to me in bed, lying on her side, head resting on her elbow, just watching me. 

"What now?" she asked. 

"What do you mean?" 

"I mean what now. What happens to us now?" 

I looked at her for a moment. "What do you want to happen?"

"Nothing. I love you. The other night was an accident. It wasn't my fault!" 

"I know" I said, I saw that you didn't start it, but when Norm set you down on your feet you didn't try to get away. Nancy hung her head and weakly said, "I know." 

"Tell me about it."

Nancy looked at me as if she was trying to make up her mind about something and then she took a deep breath. "Before I met you I was the campus slut. My cousin took my cherry at eighteen and I found that I loved to fuck, anyone who could get a date with me had a sure thing. Then, one night at a frat party I had two much to drink and I did it with two guys - at the same time. I loved it. Before long I was the campus slut. Three, four, six - it didn't matter. I couldn't get enough cock. Then I met you. One look into your eyes and I knew you were the man I wanted to spend my life with. I stopped going out on dates; I wouldn't return phone calls; I turned down invitations to parties and I stopped going to my old haunts. 

"I concentrated on being the 'little miss goodie two-shoes' I thought you wanted and I prayed to God that you would never find out what a whore I had been. The day you asked me to marry you was the happiest day of my life and since that day I have not looked at, touched, or thought of another man. Until that night. It wasn't my fault. I tried to get away from Norm, but I had no leverage, and when he spun around and my head fell to the level of Dave's cock and I saw it there waiting for me a switch tripped in my head - it turned off Nancy the good wife, and it turned on Nancy the slut. I meant it when I said I'd forgotten how good a lot of cocks could be. 

"What about last night?" 

"I don't know. I honestly don't know. I did not intend to. When Al called and said they had things set up I told him I was not interested. Then Norm called and said if I didn't go through with it he would see to it that word got around about what I'd done. I told him to go to hell. The day before yesterday Dave and Mike came by. Dave said he'd heard that I wasn't going to do them again, but they had all told Mike about what had happened and how I'd promised to do him next time. He said Mike had really been looking forward to it and it didn't seem fair that I let him down. Dave said if I would take care of Mike he would see to it that the others didn't find out. I ended up fucking the both of them all afternoon. Yesterday I caved in to Norm's threats and you know the rest.

Unaccountably, I was rock hard again so I rolled over toward her and she opened her legs to receive me. As we fucked I kept asking her questions, "Did they ask you to do it again?" No answer. "Did they ask you to do it again?" Still no answer. "Did they ask you to do it again?" 

"Yesss" she hissed up at me as she had an orgasm. 

"Are you going to?" 

"No!" 

"Do you want to?" 

She turned her head away from me. "Do you want to?" Still no answer. "Do you want to?" 

"YES!" she cried, "God damn you! Yes! Yes! I want to!" and she had her second orgasm as I pumped my sperm into her. 

I rolled off of her and lay staring at the ceiling. "Well, we have established a few things here. One, you love doing it; Two, you want to do it again." 

"No!" She said, "I am not going to do it again!" 

I turned to look at her, "Not even if I ask you to?" 

She stared at me in disbelief. "You would ask me to do that? Fuck other men? I don't believe you. You can't be serious." 

"Oh but I am. Watching you through the kitchen window that night gave me the most intense hardon that I've ever had in my life. We know now that I want to watch you do it and we know that you want to do it. The only question now, is will you do it?" 

She looked at me long and hard. "You really do want me to fuck other men while you watch?" I nodded my head yes. She came into my arms, "Ok baby, you want it - you got it."

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

I called and begged off of the next poker game and sent Nancy off to a 'bridal shower' on that night. My poker buddies have made several afternoon visits to my house while they think I'm at work, but I'm in the house watching. I have introduced Nancy to several business associates and coworkers at lunches and social gatherings and quite a few have managed to find their way into our bed. I've missed the last several poker games and somehow Nancy always has some where to go on that night. Nancy and I have talked about my becoming an active participant and some day I probably will, but for now I am content with being a watcher.

The Release



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Click Here to listen. (9.5 min/mp3)

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Author's Note: Thanks to Tseranc for again listening and pointing out errors and ways to better fix things. I hope you enjoy the story and I look forward to sometime doing a third. ~ Red

I'd gotten a call from my Master. He was going to be out of town. I knew what that meant. I would have to wait, before I could come again. He talked to me that night, the night before his trip. I can remember it just like it was yesterday. Every word I whispered to him still plays on my mind as if it were happening right now as I share it with you. 

*****

"I will miss you Master," I tell him quietly. My fingers toy with the ribbon of my nightgown. I slowly pull away the strip of silk and open the top. 

"What are you doing?" he asks. 

"I'm preparing myself for you," I whisper. 

"Good, tell me how," he commands. 

"Yes, Master. . . I'm sitting on the side of my bed. My feet dangle above the ground. My eyes are closed as my hands slip over the front of my chest. I smooth down my nightdress; it hugs my breasts. I can feel my nipples through the texture of the material."

"Mmmm. . .it rubs against the pink pearls Master. They want to be free." 

"I slide my hands further, encasing my ribs within a warm splay of heat that is generated from my palms. Ohhh..." 

"I move my hands lower, they glide over my hips and thighs, parts of me that I gave you so long ago. I am yours Master. You own me. I do not rush, but enjoy every touch I place upon my skin. The silk and lace of my gown are a hindrance to my caress and the burning need that is growing inside me. Do you feel it? Can you? Oh Master. . . I do."

"I feel every touch. The soft. The firm. The commanding. The air is cool against my flesh. My fingers skim over the hem of the gown and my nails graze gently across my pale, ivory skin. I stand and begin to lift the sheer material away." 

"Oh Master, my fingers have grazed my sex. The soft curls free from coverings you deny me. I am exposed for you, my sex open and ready at all times. Gone are my panties, my slacks no longer allowed. Only skirts and dresses grace your slave's form. Master. . . I am wet with desire."

"I wish to linger, but I know I must finish the preparations for our joining. I leave my sex, my body craving for more, but I deny it. It is your body, your possession. You own me Master. You are what is best for me."

"Slowly, just like you have trained me, I lift my gown. My nails dance along my sides, once covered by material, now open for my touch." 

"I slip my nightgown off. My hair spills over my back as it escapes the confines of the gown. The ends dance across my shoulders and I shake loose the tangles before laying the gown to the side." 

"I lay down on the bed. The blankets are pushed away, the sheets cool to my heated skin. I am aroused Master. I can smell it. The smell is intoxicating. I wish you were here. I wish you could smell my scent. It is the scent of lovers."

"I know what you desire Master. I know. My fingers move to my sex. I gather the moisture and bring it to my lips. Mmm. . . oh the aroma. The heady perfume of my pussy envelopes me. What you do to me Master. . .it is wonderful, so very wonderful. The tip of my tongue reaches out and licks at the glistening drops of sexual dew."

"I want more. My tongue slides over the sides of my finger, coaxing it into my mouth. Mmmm... simply delicious. Spun honey straight from the source. I push my finger between my lips and suck it clean." 

"I run my wet fingers over my lips, tracing them for you, letting you feel their shape and texture. I smile. You feel that too and for a moment I am lost in the one you give to me. My eyes are closed, but I see you before me. I see the rise of your lips, the pearls of your teeth and the beautiful look of your features gazing upon me." 

"I wish to please you. My palms run slowly down my chest. One cups my left breast, the other trails little fingertip paths up and down my torso. I knead the freckled globe with soft gentle massages while rivers of pleasure play across my skin. Each trail travels closer to the center of my heat, but lifts away in a teasing display of power. It is your hand, your hand controlling mine. I know you would tease me if you were here. I do it. I tease and torment myself, because it gives you pleasure. . .but in the end. . . you know I too gain pleasure and so we continue this play, this little battle of passion that is building to a promising cresendo."

"Ohhh... I must slow down. I feel my body stiffen. I take the calming breaths you command me to take. . ."

"Yesss. . . I am calmer. My desire is flaring Master, but I know I must wait. There is more to do. More area's I must explore for you. I am your fingers. Only my words are our connection. I will slow them. I will wait."

"My hand releases my full breast and I pinch my left nipple hard, for I know your teeth would be biting me. You know what my body needs. So I twist and torture the tiny bead. I can feel the heat of it. I know it is red from my abuse. I open my eyes."

"Ohhh God Master. I am so flushed. My body is like a moth drawn to a flame. I want to continue to please you. . . I know I can. I know you have trained me well and because of that I will wait. But I long to watch. I long to see you slide your cock into this slave."

"My eyes close again and I reach down to run both my hands up and down my thighs. Slowly I press my legs open, exposing my soft patch of red curls for your enjoyment. Master. . .I know it is time. I know it is time for me to watch myself. It is time for me to make myself completely ready for your possession of my inner being. You own me. . .I know this and every time we love, you only reinforce your branding of me."

"The chocolate orbs of my eyes gaze upon the slick cunt that you take pleasure in. Carefully I slip my fingers over the soft, velvet lips. I pet them, just like you would. Mmm. . ." 

"Master I will open the gates of my love for you. My hands rest on each lip. I separate them. The cold air hits your slave's cunt. Ohhh. . ."

"It is hard to breathe. I lick my lips, imaging your tongue between my thighs. I bring two fingers to my mouth and cover them with salvia. Moist fingers mash against my clit, just as if your tongue were gliding over it. Ohhh fuck."

"I'm shaking Master. I slip two fingers into my pussy while I rub at the soft nub of my sex. It is so hard not to go faster. My thighs try to close. I won't let them. I must keep my pussy open for you. It has to be ready."

"My fingers move in and out of me. The tips run firmly over the inner folds and I scrap my nails along the fleshy surface. The liquid silk of my arousal seeps free and I bring it up to my clit. I slide it along the tender strip of flesh. Mmmm. . . Yess..." 

"As I tease the petal of my desire, my other hand begins to join in the frenzy. I plunge it deep, two fingers. . . God Master. . . I can't breath Master I need your help. Oh God. . I move my hand faster. Everything is a blur to me. Ohhh. . . Yes. . . harder. I hear it in your breath. I know I must move harder and faster for you. A third. . .Oh fuck Master. I use a third finger . . .Master "

"Oh my God. . ."



The Release of Our Mind...



She lies there on the bed, bound and in such ecstasy. Her body quivers as He watches her. She feels his eyes gaze upon her and as she lies with her eyes closed, the throbbing and desire flows through her. 

He sits at the end of the bed, His eyes on her He speaks to her now, in a low voice, gravely and with such lust she moans softly herself. He talks to her, taking her mind over, making her feel as if His hands touch her, but He lays not a finger on her yet. 

He tells her to follow Him, He tells her he is reaching for her hand… The tone of His voice, the words he utters to her so softly, takes her on a journey. One not many find, one that brings her closer to him than anyone ever before. 

He enters her mind casually as if He were on a stroll in the park. She welcomes Him in, the tingling sensation traveling through her in waves. A deep throbbing between her legs makes her cross them and hug the hunger that she feels there. 

He asks her "Are you ready to go with me?" She speaks, her voice low and monotone, "No, please not yet." 

She wiggles seductively on the bed, her hands bound over her head, the soft red fur inside the cuffs sensuously caresses her wrists. Her breathing noticeably coming in shortened gasps, her moans soft as she exhales. He tells her to reach for his hand and they will walk the ledge together, she answers Him, "yes…" soft and low. 

They continue on together in mind, in body they do not touch. To look at her lying on the bed one would think the hands of a ghost must be upon her. Her body moves as if she is being caressed, fondled by the hands of someone unseen.

It is Him, deep in her mind, taking her to a place only they share. The bond between them special, spiritual they have transcended to a place only few ever find.

He asks her again "Are you ready to go with me? To fly with me into the darkness? To feel the power….come with me now…come with me…." She tells Him now, "Yes" her voice weak her mind on fire with the passion He has stirred in her.

She is bound to Him with more than the chains he places on her wrists, her heart feels Him, she knows Him, and He is inside of her now. She leaps with Him from the ledge into the abyss beyond. 

He talks to her in hushed tones, asking her what she feels now, asking her what she wants…she answers Him, in a low voice, husky with desire. "I want to cum Master" 

He tells her now, "Yes you may cum for me now, cum for me…." She moans now, with more urgency, her body moving as if in motion with another.

Her hips swivel about on the bed, her wrists chained to the bed, her hands clenching and relaxing time and time again. Her fingers feel as if they touch his skin and yet touch nothing. 

She moans the chains that bind her making a soft clanking noise as she rubs her wrists against the red fur inside the cuffs she wears. She feels the wetness between her legs growing, her hips arch up as she moans and her breast sway as she moves to a rhythm that seems to be shared but with no one's hand touched her.

She floats in her mind down and down and the blackness holds her, makes her safe. She feels no fear, no hurt, no anger, only an incredible lightness in her chest, one of desire. 

She shudders and tells him, "Yes Master, I am…for you …Yes Master I cum for you…" 

She spasms her whole body in a tremor, she moans and cums, again and again, her orgasm's come in waves after the first one. She feels the wetness as it comes from her, Again and again her moans come, her body twitches on the bed. She trembles now lightly, as the passion seems to subside slowly. Her breath finally coming slow and easy once more. 

He watches her and decides when, and then, He touches her… He places one hand on her, he gently lays it on her thigh. She gasps as she feels the touch of it. Her body instantly ready for more, she feels erotic excitement so intensely.

The one touch… One touch … and she feels the explosion of power shift between them, from one to the other they share. 

His one hand touches her, the other holds His own swollen manhood. He moans as He looks at her his swollen crotch aching for attention.

He closes His eyes and His head leans back slightly as he moans once more. She wants to beg Him to touch her. But she knows He will appease her craving for Him soon. 

She waits, the energy draining from her, ebbing away as the moments pass. He sits, His one hand on her and the other on Himself, it is as if the power flows between them this way. 

An electric currant filling the air around them as the connection between them deepens, they are becoming… becoming as One, together, locked in a vise of power they created with passion and desire and lust. She lays there, her body still once more, her breathing shallow and even…her wrists twist slightly, the soft clink of the chain and the rattle of the buckles music to her ears as well as His. 

They sit in the silence, the sounds, smells, and feel of erotic pleasure wafts through the air about them they sit and recuperate. The next pleasures will be more physical in nature, the touching, and the feeling… Oh yes the physical lust comes soon…



The Relief of Troy



Chapter 1. Early Days. 

I was in a dilemma. It was not so much what had happened, as my reaction to it that was troubling. It had been almost nothing in itself, but…

…But I should begin at the beginning. 

My name is Troy Cummings. Married – or I was – to Doctor Tony Cummings, General Practitioner Extraordinary, or at least, he thinks he is. He works in a group practice where I first met him when I was a young, newly graduated podiatrist.

Tony was handsome with a dynamic personality. He was the popular idol of the women patients, and the bane of his colleagues. I went for him in a big way and after a painful deflowering in his flat one night, and the resultant pregnancy, we married.

The romance had been so hurried I barely got to know him. It was after we got married I began to discover that beneath the scintillating exterior, lurked a man of straw. 

Despite his being a doctor, Tony lacked sensitivity when it came to female needs. He was rough in the expression of his own sexual urges, and had no interest in fulfilling mine. I believe some women like this caveman approach, and while I don't mind some vigorous coupling, I do like to end up gratified.

It took only three years before Tony's sexual interest in me began to fade. It did not happen all at once, but gradually tailed off over the next couple of years until it reached vanishing point, at which time we agreed on separate bedrooms. I was not unhappy about this because when he had coupled with me he had constantly left me unsatisfied.

The decline in sexual interest on Tony's part seemed to coincide with the time I left the group practice, and set up in partnership with Pam, a girl I had become friendly with on the podiatry course. Like me, she was married and had a son. Her husband, Ben, also a doctor, worked in the same practice as Tony.

My son, Miles, was one of the things I had reason to be grateful to Tony for. Perhaps it might have been the same with someone else, but he inherited his father's good looks, but fortunately, not his character, if one could say that Tony had any character under that bright personality.

As far as Tony was concerned, Miles was a disappointment. He tried hard to draw him into his own interests, believing that he must "make a man of him". This meant taking him off to football matches. Tony was president of the local club and at the age of four Miles was carted off clad in a beanie, scarf and socks that sported the club colours of red and black.

Miles' response to these outings was at first one of disinterest that gradually turned to dislike. Tony grew angry when Miles said he did not want to go to the match, and made pointless comments like, "The boy's a bloody sissy."

The direction of Miles' interests started to emerge when he was five. 

One day when Miles was playing with a toy train on the floor, I was listening to a piece of music by Bach. I had no idea Miles was listening to the music, but when it finished he said, 'That was pretty, Mummy'."

"Did you really like it?" I asked.

"Yes."

I was both surprised and gratified that he felt that way about so complex a musical piece.

At about age seven Tony gave up trying to draw Miles into his world of sport. Saturday afternoons became my special time with Miles. The State Festival Centre began to hold a series of concerts, plays and similar entertainment's mainly for children. They were called, "The Alternative to Sport."

Miles and I went along to many of these, and in addition, I took him to places of historical and natural interest.

The bond Tony had tried to make with Miles began to loosen, and Tony became less and less interested in the boy. I, on the other hand, found myself drawing closer to Miles.

Even when he was in my womb, I felt that I loved him. In the early stages of his life I tried hard to help him bond with his father. It was not my choice to be the main influence in his life and suffocate him with mother love. Once, however, it became clear that Miles was not going to follow in father's footsteps as far as sport went, and Tony lost interest, I not unwillingly took over.

When he was seven Miles decided that he loved me, and informing me of this important decision, announced that "When I grow up, mummy, I'm going to marry you." 

I'd read my share of Sigmund Freud, and although he is out of fashion these days, I think he was onto something when he wrote that little boys have an erotic attachment to their mothers, and see their father as a rival. He goes on to reassure the reader, that all turns out well, because the boy learns that father is too powerful as a rival, so he eventually turns to other females to find his soul mate.

I therefore felt safe in responding to Miles' declaration by saying, "I'm sure that will be lovely, darling."

Chapter 2. Storm Signals.

As the years went past and Tony and I became increasingly two people in the same house but living separate lives, so the attachment between Miles and I grew. 

Tony and I never went out together except when we had been invited to some social gathering, and we needed to put on a bit of a show of togetherness.

It was Miles and I who accompanied each other to concerts and theatre, or what Tony called, "Effeminate time wasting."

I sometimes thought that Tony's eyesight must be defective, as he evidently failed to see that Miles was growing into a more powerful version of himself, physically. With no particular interest in team sports, Miles took to track and field activities.

Miles did seem destined to follow his father's example and become a doctor. Yet, even this did not seem to spark any interest in Tony.

When Miles entered his teen years, doctor though he was, Tony left it to me to give the boy sexual instruction. This consisted mainly of information about contraceptives, and dire warnings about sexually transmissible diseases. Fortunately, the outrageously expensive school he went to had an excellent programme on sexual development, so I was saved the task of explaining some of the more intimate details.

In his early teen years, Miles and I went out increasingly together, but our roles began to change. From me taking him out, he became more akin to my escort. He noticed what I wore, how I had done my hair and whether or not I had too much makeup on. 

He was inclined to comment on these matters, saying things like, "You are looking lovely tonight, mother." At first I assumed he was merely repeating what he had read in some novel, but after a while I began to understand he was serious, and found myself deliberately trying to make myself look attractive for him.

Then when he was sixteen, he started to change. He found reasons for not accompanying me and disappointed though I was, I assumed he had entered that Freudian stage of seeking other female company.

That he was engaging in some sexual activity became clear when, putting away some handkerchiefs in his drawer, I found a packet of condoms.

"Well, at least the boy is playing it safe," I thought. At the same time, I felt a pang of regret that my "little boy" was growing up.

I became somewhat alarmed when this growing up process started to include a widow living in the next street. I would have known nothing about it but for the local gossip. She said with an ingenuous smile, "Isn't it nice that Miles visits Mrs.Vawser so much. She must have been so lonely since Mr.Vawser passed away."

Ivy Vawser might be a widow, but she was also a lusty dyed blonde who married Tom Vawser who was fifteen years older than her. She was about eight years older than I was, and, I thought, a very dangerous woman where a young fellow like Miles was concerned.

Unsure how to tackle the situation, and not wanting to have Tony involved, I resorted to my partner, friend and confidant, Pam.

Over the years, Pam and I had shared many of our woes, especially the marital miseries. I now explained the situation to her, asking what she thought about it. To my amazement, she laughed.

"My dear Troy," she spluttered through her laughter, "Just be happy that Miles is probably getting some good sex therapy and training. Boys often go for older women because they feel safe with them, and they get a far more exciting time than with the young girls. Just think, he's having his sex in a nice comfortable bed, instead of the back of his car."

"You mean, I shouldn't try to do something…try to stop it?"

"What for? It will stop of itself eventually. Ivy Vawser isn't going to get pregnant, she'll see to that, and as for a longstanding relationship, she's more likely to be on the lookout for another well-off old guy. Miles may get a bit of a bump when she drops him, but that's all part of the learning experience."

I'm not sure when what Pam called the "bump" took place, but after about six months Miles ceased his evening journeys in the direction of Ivy's house, and returned to his role of escorting me.

He now did this with even more seriousness, and took to saving up his allowance and then blowing it on taking me to a restaurant for dinner before whatever concert or theatre we were going to. These restaurant visits were truly delightful, and were invariably candlelit affairs.

It was after one such evening that the first storm warning appeared. On arriving home and driving the car into the garage, I went to get out, when Miles took my hand and said, "Hold on. We never finish these evenings off properly."

Innocently I asked, "What do you mean, darling?"

"This," he said, and leaning across to me kissed me on the lips. In itself a kiss between Miles and I was nothing unusual, but this time it was the sort of kiss that confused me.

It was not a kiss one expects from a son. It was soft and a little moist, and held on just a bit longer than I expected.

Yet it was not the kiss alone that disturbed me, but my reaction to it. I felt myself blush and my nipples began to harden, and worse still, I actually began to get wet between the legs.

I got out of the car in bewilderment, and fleeing indoors ran straight to my bedroom.

Chapter 3. Sons and Mothers.

Over the years of Tony's sexual neglect of me, I had not been a completely virtuous wife. There had been two men, both of them married, and in the end, unwilling to break up their families. Even if they had been, I was also unwilling to break up with Tony until I was sure that Miles could stand on his own two feet. Apart from these two lovers, I resorted to masturbation to relieve myself of sexual tensions.

I had to masturbate now, and as I came, it was Miles who emerged as my fantasy.

Next morning, when Miles came into the kitchen for breakfast, he came over to me where I stood preparing something, and parting the hair at the back of my neck, pressed a gentle kiss, saying, "Good morning, my lovely mother."

I tried to behave in a manner I thought "normal," but have you ever tried to be normal in an abnormal situation? My legs began to shake, and I became clumsy in what I was doing, and dropped the bowl I was using, smashing it. 

Miles went to help pick up the pieces, but I irritably brushed him aside. Of course, it was not him I was irritable with, but me. Why was I reacting like this simply because my son was getting…I didn't know what to call it, so I settled for, "over-friendly?"

I wanted to confide in Pam again, but she was out that day visiting patients in their homes. That evening with Miles engaged in some studies in his room, and Tony out on one of his mysterious "calls," I dragged out dear old Freud from the bookshelf.

I read the section where he writes about incestuous feelings of a son for his mother. Once more, I was assured that the son would eventually turn from the mother to find another sexual object. But that was only to deal with one side of the equation. I found little about mothers having incestuous feeling for their son, and as far as I was concerned, that was what had happened the previous evening.

Next day Pam was working once more in our consulting rooms. I poured out my troubles to her.

"Pam, Miles kissed me almost like a…a…a lover."

"Lucky you," Pam declared. "I wish my son would kiss me like that."

"Do you mean, you wouldn't mind?"

"Why should I?" she asked. "If my Ben doesn't bother to kiss me, or do anything else with me for that matter, why should I worry if a nice looking young chap wants to, even if he is my son."

"But…Pam…you don't mean…"

"Don't fancy doing a bit of son swapping, do you," she laughed.

"Pam, you mean you'd let your son have…get…have intimate…"

"I'll tell you the truth, Troy, and it won't be much help to you, but I'm not sure what I'd do if David tried anything with me. Look, we try hard to distinguish between different sorts of loving, but as you've found out for yourself, its not always easy to draw these artificial border lines."

"What am I going to do, Pam? I'm not so much afraid of what Miles might do, it's my response to it that frightens me."

"What you're saying Troy, is that you do really fancy him, and if he puts a bit more pressure on, you're going to give in."

"I don't know, Pam, I really don't know. Perhaps it's nothing at all. He was just having a bit of fun with me."

"Troy Cummings, how long does it take for you to wake up. Miles has been practically dating you years…"

"No, no. We've just gone to things together that's all…"

"For God's sake Troy, can't you see what's been happening? He goes off fucking Ivy Vawser, and why? My guess is she was a substitute for you. That comes to an end, and what happens, he goes back to taking you out and spending his allowance on candlelit dinners. Can't you see he's been behaving like a lovelorn Romeo?"

"If you can't do anything else, at least see things as they are. He wants you, and he's not going to stop wanting you. He may or he may not do much about it in a direct way, but if you open the door to him – or more accurately, your legs, he'll be in like a flash."

"You can stop him Troy by telling him 'no' very firmly. He's a lovely boy and I know he wouldn't do anything to hurt you, and one thing is certain, he's in love with you."

"With his own mother?"

"Why not, you are his mother, but you're also a very attractive woman. Why shouldn't he be in love with you? For God's sake Troy, get objective about yourself: lovely slim figure, a bust that would make Venus seem droopy, gorgeous hair and a face that makes Helen of Troy – ha, that's a coincidence – look ugly."

"You and Miles have been like a couple of peas in a pod ever since he was a child. And let's be frank, he's had not only his share of mother love, he's also had the love that your cripple-brained husband didn't want from you transferred to him. With all you've got and all you've given him, why wouldn't he want to fuck you?"

"Pam!"

"Sorry to be crude, Troy, but here's the boy wanting you and your complaining."

"It will pass, Pam, he'll get over wanting me."

In an exasperated tone, she went on, "Yes, he may get over wanting you, but will you get over wanting him? You want to be the abstemious martyr? The secular nun renouncing this world's temptations? Then go ahead. You don't want Miles? Then send him to me, I'll take care of his love problems for him."

"Pam!"

"I'm sorry Troy," she said quietly, "It's just that it makes me feel so frustrated, so envious. You have the chance of something beautiful with a fine young man, and all you can do is gripe about it."

I had always thought of Pam as strong, not easily subject to crying, but looking at her I saw her eyes filling, and the tears beginning to run down her cheeks. I put my arms round her and held her to me.

"Oh Troy," she sobbed, "it's so hard, so very hard…I've tried and tried…but Ben doesn't want…if only someone would love me like that…If David would…"

We stayed close together for a long time, but I could find no words for her comfort. I almost wished her son David would become her lover, to bring her some solace, some release, to give her the sort love she longed to give to him.

She had given me much to think about, but neither she, nor anyone else, could decide for me, if Miles made any further moves.

Chapter 4. A Gentle Caress. 

Miles and I were not due to go out together for another week. It was to be a dinner only evening at a Restaurant with nothing to follow. As fate would have it, Tony was to be away that week. Miles and I would be alone in the house, and I thought to try to find some excuse for not going with him, but as he made no further amorous moves towards me, I dropped that idea.

On the evening we were due to go out, I was determined to make no special effort with my appearance, and I would be distant and aloof during the evening. However, in making preparations to go out, I found myself being more meticulous than ever. So much for resolve!

Very self-consciously, I went to where Miles stood waiting for me. He looked at me and gasped."

"Mother, you look absolutely stunning. I've never seen you look lovelier."

I felt the blood rush to my face and there was a ticking sensation in my clitoris. So much for any ideas I had about being aloof!

At the restaurant I could hardly eat. I felt as if there was a lump in my throat. When I tried to speak my voice seemed to croak and I was quivering all over. I started to silently pray to some unidentified deity, "Help me, please help me," without knowing what help I wanted.

I tried to determine what Miles was thinking and feeling. He seemed his usual gentle, caring self, his only anxiety being my failure to eat. Before the meal was completed, he suggested we should go home, as I seemed unwell.

Trying to delay the journey home and what might follow, I said I was really quite well, but not hungry, and urged him to complete the meal.

To make matters worse, seemingly unbidden my nipples began to harden, and there was an uncomfortable wetness between my legs. I was lubricating copiously and the panties I was wearing were that type that have little more than a little shred of cloth passing over my groin. I feared the fluid I was producing would stain my dress at the back, thus making visible what I was feeling when I stood up. 

At last, the meal finished and we drove home. Miles was still concerned about my welfare, and I, perhaps foolishly, continued to reassure him on that score. Perhaps I should have told him I was feeling unwell?

We drove into the garage. I made to get out, but Miles took my arm and pulled me towards him. I wanted to say, "Please, don't darling," but the words would not form because in truth I wanted him to kiss me.

His lips were very soft and warm on mine. He was not forceful, but seemed to be gauging my response. If, in that moment, as our lips clung together, I had pushed him away, I think it would have ended the matter, perhaps forever. Instead, I yielded to him.


In the awkward environment of the front seat in a car, I slipped slowly down on my seat, with Miles coming over me. Our kissing, begun very delicately, grew in fervour until it rose to a fever, our tongues searching the recesses of each other mouths, tasting each other's saliva.

Finally we broke, breathing heavily. Mile spoke in a whisper:

"Mother, you do know how much I want…need you…don't you?"

"Yes, my darling, I know."

"I've wanted you for years…"

"It's all right Miles, I understand."

His hand was sensitively exploring my breasts through the cloth of my dress – so unlike the rough squeezing used by Tony that used to hurt me.

"I know it may sound mad, mother…you know I love you?"

"Yes, darling."

"It's crazy, but I don't just love you, I'm in love with you."

"That's beautiful, Miles." My words were a combined response to what he had said, and the tender way his hand had now reached down to stroke my vulva.

"Not here darling. Take me to bed…please." There had been three other men in my life; none of them had touched me in the gentle way Miles was now caressing me. 




The Relief of Troy



With a soft gasp of, "Oh, mother," he got out of the car, came round to my side and opened the door.

I felt weak and was shaking with lust, and needed the help he now gave me.

Drawing me carefully out of the car, he half carried me into the house. Here I fell against him, overcome by the craving I had for him. I could feel his erect penis pressing against me, and the fluid of my own love now running down between my thighs. 

If I had walked to the bedroom, it would have been with a very awkward gait because of my wet discomfort, but there was no need. Miles lifted me up and carried me into the bedroom, laying me on the bed. There he began to very slowly undress me as if he was relishing every moment of the act.

As he began to expose more of my body, I felt wonderful waves of love and desire ripple through me. I wanted him to engulf me, to melt into me. I wanted that oneness that we had had when he was literally part of me in my womb. I wanted him at my breast once more being nourished with my milk. I wanted…I wanted him totally.

He finished stripping me, and began to undress himself. My eyes feasted on him as his young lithe body came into view. His manhood stood up straight and hard, gleaming with his pre-cum, and I expected an almost instant penetration.

Instead, he sat beside me as I lay on the bed, letting his gaze range over my body, his hands beginning to explore me. This was lovemaking, as I had never experienced it before. The rough handling by Tony, and the hasty penetrations by my two lovers, had been nothing like this. 

After his long visual search of my body he said, "You truly are a lovely woman, mother."

With that he bent over me and began kissing me. Again, it began gently but rose to a crescendo, our tongues once more thrusting in deep to search every crevice and corner, almost trying to eat each other. 

Miles' hand was caressing my breast, stroking up slowly from the base to the nipple, until, suddenly, and as if he could hold back no longer, he groaned and bent to take a nipple into his mouth. He sucked and softly nibbled, filling me with waves of unbearable ecstacy that caused me to cry out, "I love you Miles, I love you…I want…to feed you…always."

"You shall," he said in a choking voice.

"Miles, darling, I've waited too long. Now darling, please."

He knew what I meant, and I having already drawn my legs apart, he lay upon me, and searched for my entrance with his shaft. I took hold of him and guiding him to my vagina, he penetrated.

He must have been right on the edge of ejaculation, but somehow, he held back, pushing in with his full length, he slowly pulled back again, as if he wanted to experience every part of my vagina. 

People now talk blithely of lovemaking when they refer to sexual intercourse. Often it is really lust making, or what I believe is called "Recreational sex." With Miles it was a lover making love, giving and receiving in a wonderful act of tenderness that made every move and every moment exquisite.

Neither of us seemed to want the union to end. In an agony of restraint, we held back from what in the end must be.

I was the first to surrender to the urgency of my need. I seemed to fall into a long tunnel of flashing coloured light, and as though they came from someone else, I heard my squeals and cries, begging Miles never to stop. All around me seemed to be vibrating with ever increasing force. The lights grew brighter and I was screaming in a frenzy of delicious suffering. 

Then the world seemed to slow down, and at that point, Miles began to speed up his thrusting in and out of me. He gave a loud groan, and his sperm was pumping into me with great pulsating bursts.

He kept crying out, "I love you, I love you," and I desperately wanted to respond, to pour my own love over him, but I was on the downward slide of my orgasm, and was too weak and breathless to utter a word. I could only lay, my legs wrapped round him, trying to communicate love with my now relaxing body.

We finally ended the clamour and descended to a plain of post-coital tranquility. Experience had taught me that this was the decisive moment. What happened now answers the question, "Was this love or only lust?"

Tony's reaction once he had shot into me, was to pull out, turn away, and go to sleep. My two lovers had of necessity a slightly different technique. As soon as they had finished, they suddenly recalled that they had pressing engagements they must hurry of to. Whether I had been satisfied seemed of little importance to them.

Miles' first response, while he still remained inside me, was to ask, "Are you all right, mother?"

I gave a little laugh that jiggled his slowly slackening penis rather pleasantly inside me. "Darling, didn't I make enough noise for you?"

He laughed in turn and said, "I suppose it was a needless question, but I just wanted to be sure."

"And if I'd said 'no, I'm not all right', what would you have done?"

"There are things I could do to bring you off."

I offered up a silent prayer of thanks to Ivy Vawser. I'm sure it must have been she who taught him so well.

Miles went on, "Mother, do you know how long I've wanted you? 

"No, darling, I don't."

"Ever since I was seven. When I was near you, I used to get erections. With what I had they were only little erections, and I had no idea what I wanted to do with them, but I knew they had something to do with you."

"So," I thought, "There was something in this theory of infantile sexuality after all."

"You know we can't stop now, don't you, mother?"

This, I think, might have been the lurking fear I had always had. If our coupling had been an utter failure, we might have ended things now, but it had been the very opposite. The coupling itself had been monumental in its power, and the very fact that we still lay coupled, was for me, the proof of our love.

There was however, one other test of love that had to be faced.

"Miles, you do realise that we just had unprotected sex?"

"Oh, I thought…"

"I've not been taking the pill for several months. I want you to tell me truthfully, how you would feel if I was pregnant."

"If it were possible, mother, I would love you even more."

"Are you sure you know what you're saying, Miles? Its very important because of what we must talk about next."

"I don't think I've ever been more certain of anything in my life, apart from my love for you. I know what you want to talk about next. Its father, isn't?"

"Yes."

"For God's sake, mother, you have to leave him. You know he's been skating on thin ice for years with his female patients."

"I know, darling."

"He's got away with it so far, mother, but one day someone's going to report him, and he'll be finished. He'll be stopped from practicing medicine, and they'll take him through the courts until they've soaked every last cent out of him."

"I'm afraid so, Miles."

"You haven't had sex with him for years…"

"How do you know that?"

"Mother, I know you well enough to realise that you wouldn't have taken lovers if father had still been having sex with you, you're not the type."

"You know about them?"

"People will talk, you know."

"And you still wanted me?"

"Of course. Don't you believe I love you? I went through agonies of jealousy over them, but it didn't stop me loving you. I told myself, 'One day she'll understand how much I love her, and she won't need her lovers anymore'."

"I stopped needing my lovers months ago, that's why I went off the pill, but darling, if I'd known, I wouldn't have put you through that pain."

"I know you wouldn't, and I haven't been exactly the virtuous son."

"Yes, you and Ivy must have had a wild time while it lasted."

He laughed. "My God, are there no secrets any more?"

He had still not withdrawn from me and could I feel that he was hardening again, so I laughed and said, "There's one secret you can't hide."

"What's that?"

"You're ready to go again, my love."

We lay looking deep into each other's eyes as he started to move in me. I knew it would be longer this time, so after a minute or two I said. "Lay over on your back, darling."

He did as I asked and withdrew. I sat across him, my opening poised over is shaft, then slowly lowered myself to let him enter. Once his full length was in me I stopped and began to explore his body with my hands, while his hands reached for, and began to fondle my breasts.

How long we stayed like that I don't know. We were so lost in our looking at and touching each other, time seemed to stand still.

Still without any movement in my vagina, I felt another orgasm approaching. It began with a tingling in my clitoris that started to spread outwards and through me. My genitals seemed to take fire and the heat began to engulf my whole body. I was now moving on Miles, shaking and screaming as wave after wave of orgasmic torment racked me.

Before I reached the pinnacle, Miles seized my hips, lifting me up and dragging me down with powerful thrusts, his seed shattering into me in the primal drive to impregnate.

In that moment I knew why throughout history there had been lovers who were prepared to face death for the sake of this exquisite agony. I would have died for Miles so long as I could have this love union with him.

There is a Latin proverb that states, "Every animal is sad after intercourse." I understand that, but in this coupling with Miles, I realised that there are two kinds of sadness that can come after intercourse.

The first sadness is the sort I had often experienced with Tony and my lovers. It is a feeling of guilt and a desire to reject the deed just done. I once overheard a young man stating this sadness in its most brutal form. He said, "After I've fucked her, I just want to say, 'Clear off you dirty old cow'."

With Miles, I discovered another sort of sadness. It was the knowledge that eventually we must separate. Miles would have to withdraw from me, and our union would come to an end. This form of post-coital sadness is ameliorated when experienced by two people who truly love each other, for they know that this moment of separation is purely temporary, and they will come together in love again.

Sitting over Miles, I kept him inside me for a long time. In case he was tired of me being there but did not want to say so, I made to separate from him a few times, but he seized my hips and whispered, "Stay, just a little longer, please." 

"Finally I said, "Darling, we must sleep. You've got lectures tomorrow and I have to go to work."

I pulled away from him, and as the tip of his penis came out of me, he gave a soft moan.

He drew the covers over us, and I burrowed against him. He had one arm round me, and with one hand, he held my breast. I slept the most peaceful sleep I had experienced for a long time.

Chapter 5. Came the Dawn.

When I woke early next morning, I found we had moved apart during the night. I rose quietly from the bed, put on my dressing gown, and slipped out of the bedroom.

Everything around me seemed to have been made anew. Smells I had long ceased to notice were alive again. I saw everything as if for the first times. I went out into the garden, and whilst it was in fact a beautiful day, had it been blowing a gale with rain beating down, it would still have been a beautiful day. I touched trees and flowers, their solidity or fragility thrilling me.

I felt myself to be a new person. Cares and woes fell away from me, as I knew myself to be loved and desired. I felt young, and very, very alive.

I went back into the house and began preparations for breakfast. After about five minutes, Miles appeared still naked. He came to me, and taking me in his arms, he kissed me deep and hungrily.

"How is my lovely mother this morning?" he asked.

"I feel superb," I replied, pulling tightly against him.

"Good," he said, "because I think we should start the day properly."

It was no use my being coy, and pretending I didn't know what he meant. I could feel his erection pressing against me as he held me.

He drew me to a kitchen chair and sitting on it, he pulled me to him so that, with my legs parted, I sat on his lap facing him. I knew what was wanted, so I took his penis and inserted it into my vagina. He slipped into me easily, but in our position, he could only penetrate me with about half his length. 

We sat facing each other, Miles' hands roaming over my breasts. This being connected, but remaining still and simply looking at each other seemed to be something we both needed. It was a very peaceful form of love communication, a sort of calm before the storm.

After a while Miles lifted me so that his penis was withdrawn from me. I was not sure what he wanted, but I tried to follow his movements. It was then he did one of the sweetest and most loving things that a man can do for a woman.

Holding his penis in his hand, he pressed the tip of it against my clitoris, then began to move it back and forth over the little nub.

I began to give out with little cries, kissing Miles' face: "Miles…oh Miles…darling…Oh God, Miles you're making me come…don't stop darling…don't stop."

The first pangs of orgasm shot through me, jolting me with shocks of intense, sweet torture. I must have raked the poor boy's shoulders and back with my nails, because afterwards I could see the marks of my exhilaration.

Almost as soon as I had finished, I pulled away from him and dropped to my knees in front of him. I took the beautiful crown of his penis into my mouth, licking and sucking in a delirious passion to repay his gift to me.

He came with a joyful cry, his sperm pouring into my mouth. I struggled to swallow his seed, not wanting to lose a drop, but it overwhelmed me, and it began to dribble out of my mouth onto his crotch.

When he had finished, I slumped down, leaning against his knees, while he sat, drooping in the chair.

"Well," he said, "I told you we should start the day properly."

We both laughed weakly.

"Darling, if we are going to start every day like that, how are we going to get the strength to do our work? I think we'd better clean ourselves up, have some breakfast, the get about our business."

"I suppose you're right," he said, "but I'd rather we stayed home."

"Nothing doing," I retorted. "I've got a living to make, and if my plans work out, I shall soon have to make a living for both of us."

We showered and then ate our breakfast.

Miles left for his lectures and I for my work.

Chapter 6. Radiant Troy.

On arrival at the practice, Pam was already there, doing something on the computer. She looked up as I came in and started a formal greeting.

"Good morning Troy, how…My God, what happened to you?"

"Why?"

"You look…I dunno…you look…radiant…what's happened…My God, you have, haven't you, Troy?"

"Yes, I have, Pam."

"Oh terrific! How…how was it, darling?"

"It was wonderful, Pam, absolutely out of this world."

"As good as that?"

"Better, but I can't find the words to describe it."

"You lucky dame. Was it a once only?"

"Not exactly once, darling. Twice last night, then another one before I came to work."

"Wow, sounds like a honeymoon."

"I suppose it was. It was certainly a marriage of sorts."

"As serious as that, Troy?"

"Yes, as serious as that, Pam."

"You mean, it's going to go on…sort of permanent?"

"Yes."

"My God, you two must be in love. What are you going to do…I mean…about Tony and all that?"

"My plan is to leave Tony, and get a house, probably in a suburb the other side of the city. Miles has got several years to go before he graduates, and when he does, we shall probably have to move near to where he'll be working."

"You mean, you two really are going to stay together, seriously?" 

"As far as I'm concerned Pam, yes. If you knew what sex with Miles was like, you'd understand. There is something else as well. We didn't use any contraception."

"Hell, you could get pregnant."

"Yes, I could."

"And you don't mind?"

"Not in the least. It couldn't be a better outcome for Miles and I."

"Well, Troy, what does one say in this sort of situation? Congratulations?"

"I suppose I should thank you Pam. It was our talk the other day that at least got me on the right track."

"Perhaps I should start talking to myself."

"What do you mean, Pam?"

"Nothing, really. Must get on and do some work now, but I'm really pleased for you Troy."

"Thanks, Pam."

Pam returned to her task, and for the rest of the day we hardly spoke at all. I got the feeling she was annoyed or angry with me, but I couldn't understand why.

Chapter 7. Gloomy Pam. 

Finishing with the last of my patients, I was in a hurry to get home to Miles. I looked in on Pam to say goodbye and found her sitting at her desk staring into space. This was completely uncharacteristic of the lively outgoing Pam, so despite my desire to be off, I was prompted to ask if anything was wrong.

"Yes," said Pam, "I'm eaten up with jealousy over you and Miles. What's the secret Troy, how did you manage it?"

I gave a smile and replied, "I didn't really do anything. Remember, it was partly your encouragement and Miles' action that brought about what happened."

"That's what I meant when I said 'I'd should start talking to myself.' Do you know, Troy, I've been trying to work out all day how I can entice David. I've thought, 'Perhaps if I let him see me in my sexiest panties and bra he might try.' Pathetic, isn't it?"

"Pam, has David ever shown any signs of wanting to…to…"

"Fuck me? Not even a little bit."

"Does he ever show you any affection? I mean, put his arm round you, hug you, anything like that?"

"No, he seems to want to avoid me as much as possible."

"Do you know if he's had any sexual experience?"

"Oh yes, with Rosemary. That's why I laughed when you told me about Miles and Ivy Vawser."

"Rosemary!" I was surprised, but perhaps I shouldn't have been. Rosemary was the lady who cleaned house for Pam two or three times a week. She was around her mid thirties and quite pretty.

Pam went on, "You remember the time I was sick and came into work, then found I just couldn't carry on?"

"Yes."

"Well David was home because of the term break and Rosemary was there, supposedly doing the cleaning. They must have heard the car drive in, and by the time I walked into the lounge they'd untangled themselves, but Rosemary was red in the face and David was a picture of guilt."

"The poor things tried to cover up, with Rosemary muttering something about 'Just dusting the lounge' and David pretending to look for a book."

"They might have got away with it but for two things. Poor Rosemary hadn't had time to get her knickers on and had shoved them under a cushion on the sofa, but I spotted them. The other thing was the sofa looked untidy, and I saw a wet patch on it. I suppose it was hers or his discharge, or more probably both."

"Whatever did you say?"

"Nothing. Why should I? If David could have some sex with an older woman, I thought it safer than if he was screwing around with the girls at college. Rosemary is a nice woman, and with her alcoholic brute of a husband, why shouldn't she try to enjoy herself occasionally?"

"So you just ignored it?"

"Yes. I was only sorry I'd broken in on them and spoiled it. I mean, as it turned out, I got a lovely contented and happy son for as long as Rosemary was with us. Unfortunately, when she finally decided to leave her husband, she moved away – too far away for her to continue working as our cleaner. So poor David went back to being his sullen and obviously frustrated self.

Thinking about Rosemary's pretty looks, I tried to assess Pam's assets. She is a little taller than I am and plumper, but in a shapely way, with what used to be called, "an hour glass figure." She had praised my breasts, but hers were truly magnificent.




The Relief of Troy



We sometimes changed our clothes before and after work, and I had seen her beautiful bust, unconfined by bras, firm and ivory coloured. She has a heart shaped face with gray eyes, pert nose and a mouth with full lips. Why husband Ben was not, as Pam might put it, "fucking" her every night might seem a mystery, but like my husband, he probably had other irons in the fire – more accurately, his penis in other vaginas.

I thought most men would kill for a night with Pam.

I wanted to be helpful and wondering about David's apparent disinterest in her, I asked, "Pam, have you ever told David you love him?"

She looked somewhat abashed by my question, but after some hesitation, she said, "Well, not in so many words. I mean, he might think I'm a sloppy idiot."

"Do you love him, Pam?"

"What do you mean, in a mother sort of way?"

"I mean in any way."

"Troy, truthfully, I love that boy like hell…real hell…I've burned for him ever since he entered puberty."

I was somewhat taken aback by her vehemence and we were silent for a few moments. Then I picked up my theme again.

"Why not tell him you love him? I don't mean say, 'I love you, will you fuck me?' Just tell him you love him, and let him work out what sort of love you might mean." 

Pam stared down at the floor for a moment, then looking me straight in the eyes she said, "Thanks, Troy. I might try that. After all, it couldn't really make the situation any worse, could it?"

"Of course not, darling, and you might be surprised what response you get. I must go now; I want to find out if Miles has got tired of me yet. Good luck."

Chapter 8. Troy Welcomed Home.

I fled homeward to find Miles already there. I had been joking when I said I wondered if Miles was tired of me, but had I been serious, he would have quickly dispelled my doubts.

As soon as I walked in I was in his arms and he was kissing me. I felt his stiff manhood pressing against me, and I responded, rotating my hips against him. 

He began to strip my lower half until my sex was exposed, then bending me over the table he came into me from behind and ejaculated almost immediately.

When he had finished he murmured, "That's the way we should always say, 'hello'."

I was still bent over the table with Miles' penis inside me. "That's all very well, Miles," I complained in a muffled voice, "but what about me? I rush home from work, soaking wet between the legs for you, and you offload before I can get going."

"I've allowed for that, mother dear," he chuckled, "Let's go to the bedroom."

He lifted me up and carried me unresisting to the bed. He finished undressing me and stripped off himself.

We sat facing each other, my legs spread out on either side of him, then he pulled me to him, and I felt him slip into me. Once in, he did what he seemed to enjoy, and just rested there. We started kissing, his fingers pressing my nipples lightly.

His touch was too light, so I asked, "Miles, hurt me a little, just a little harder, darling."

He began pinching harder, and this stimulation together with his motionless penis inside me, brought me to orgasm. I clung to him as the waves of delicious torment shook me, and as I passed my climax, he began to move with little jerking movements. 

His emission was without any violent movement or outcry. He seemed to be treating me as if I was something fragile and precious, and he kept murmuring, "I love you very much, mother."

On the down side of my orgasm, I stroked his face and kissed him as his seed gushed into me, then it overflowed to mingle with my fluids on the bed as I spoke my words of love to him.

When he had completed discharging, we sat a while longer, touching each other and softly kissing. It was I who had to make the break, saying, "Darling, we've made a terrible mess on the bed, I think we should change the covers, shower and then eat."

"Why change the covers," he grinned, "we're only going to make a mess again later."

"Don't be so unhygienic, Miles," I scolded, but noted the promise of things to come.

Having showered and eaten, there was a hiatus in our activity. Perhaps it was the commonplace of eating together that brought this about. We had eaten together hundreds of times, but having entered into a sexual relationship, I think that it was the bringing together of the commonplace and the new that caused a certain shyness or restraint between us.

Perhaps the mundane act of preparing and eating a meal together brought home to us the fact that our relationship had changed forever. We had broken a taboo and entered an incestuous relationship, and even if it was to stop right then, nothing could ever be the same between us again.

Difficulties lay ahead for us: the final break with Tony, finding a place to live, how Miles and I should relate in public, supporting Miles as he studied for his medical degree and eventually went into practice. Above all, if I were pregnant, would Miles be so happy about it as he thought he would be?

My thoughts went to Pam. Had I done right in encouraging her to try to lure her son, David, into a sexual relationship with her?

These reflections dissipated when Miles said, "Come to bed with me, mother."

We joined each other in bed almost like an old married couple, except with considerably more ardour.

Chapter 9. What Troy did not Want

We began with kissing and caressing, and then I moved over Miles to lower my vulva to his lips. He licked and sucked my vagina and clitoris, tasting my fluid and no doubt inhaling my female fragrance. 

He brought me to orgasm, but the poor boy was so worked up during this process of giving me oral sex, that without my doing anything else to him, he ejaculated with considerable force.

I felt badly about this and said, "Darling, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean it to happen like that."

He grinned up at me, his face soaked with my liquid and his belly wet with his own discharge, and said, "We've got all night."

I got a cloth and cleaned him up. There was one aspect of sex that I had to talk to Miles about and I chose that moment to speak what was on my mind.

"Darling, there's something I have to tell you…its something I don't want you to do to me."

"What is it, mother?"

"I don't like anal sex. I'm sorry if you want to do that with me, but your father did it with me once, and he hurt me terribly…I just…"

"Mother, don't you believe me when I say 'I love you'. I wouldn't do anything to you that you didn't want done and I certainly wouldn't want to hurt you…"

"Even when I ask you to hurt me?" I asked with a little chuckle.

"Well, yes, then I suppose," he grinned.

I was relieved to have said what needed to be said, and in a sense felt even freer with Miles, knowing I would not have to reject him should he have made an attempt at anal sex. I now got down to seeing that his next ejaculation occurred in the right place, namely, inside me.

We loved half the night away, and as far as Miles was concerned, I think it would have been all night. In the end, I had to put a stop to our activity since we both had another busy day ahead of us.

Miles had been right about one thing; we had to change the bed linen again.

Chapter 10. Pam Hits the Nail on the Head.

Next morning we began with what was to become a regular event for some time, our "Good morning" intercourse on the chair followed by passionate and anguished kisses as we went our separate ways.

I got to work before Pam and did some catching up on paper work before the first patient arrived.

After our conversation the previous evening, I was feeling anxious about Pam. If she had followed my suggestion of telling David she loved him, and he had been unimpressed or even rejecting, she might be crushed.

She came in late, and one look at her told me something had happened. 

Normally well groomed, you might even say beautifully groomed, Pam looked pale and bedraggled. She lacked makeup and her hair looked as if no brush or comb had touched it. 

She flopped down into a chair with moan and looked as if she was ready to go off to sleep.

"Whatever is the matter," I asked apprehensively, dreading what I was about to hear.

"I tried it," she whimpered.

"Tried what?"

"Your bloody suggestion. I told David I loved him."

"And?"

"I cheated."

"You cheated, how?"

"Well, I combined your suggestion with my idea."

"Come on Pam, just tell me what happened."

"I got home and everything was normal, except Ben is away at the same medical seminar as Tony – I sometimes wonder what they do at these seminars." 

"David wasn't home when I arrived, so I showered and did a bit of facial repair. Then I got into panties and bra, you know, the sort where the panties are little more than some bits of cloth just about covering the essential, and the bra is just under lift, so you can nearly see the nipples. As you know, I don't really need bras, but I keep a few around for when I want to be respectable."

"Pam, you don't mean you…"

"I do mean."

"I heard David arrive and go and take a shower, I waited until I thought he'd finished and trying to time it so he was on his way back to his room, I went towards the bathroom, pretending I was just going to have a shower."

"Well, I timed it just right. He was just going into his room when along I came. 'David,' I said, "I didn't know you'd come home. Have you had a good day?"

"He'd never seen me wearing so little before, and his eyes seemed to jump out of his head, but he said in a grumpy sort of voice – the one he nearly always seems to use with me – 'Okay I suppose'."

"I thought, 'Now or never, Pam', so I said as calmly as I could, 'You know, David, I love you very much, my darling'."

"What happened?"

"He went quite pale and he started to shake. He only had a towel wrapped round his middle, and I could see the lump growing at the top of his thighs."

"He was standing their quivering and trying to speak, so I moved close – very close – to him and asked, 'Are you all right, darling, you look so pale?'"

"Do you know what he did, Troy? My David, my big strong son? He started to cry. Tough David was sobbing as if his heart would break."

"Well, what could I do…?"

"What did you do, Pam?"

"I put my arms round him and held him really close, you know, so my breasts were pushing against his chest and my belly against his."

"That did it. He broke down completely and started to groan, 'Mother, oh mother…'"

"I did the obvious and took him into his bedroom and sat him on the bed, then I sat beside him, and asked, 'What is it, darling, you can tell me.' It felt a bit strange, I mean, a big chap like David, and me comforting him."

"Did he say anything?"

"Oh yes, he said, 'I can't tell you because you'll hate me'. So I said, 'Darling, I love you, I'll never hate you, whatever it is. Just tell me and get it over with."

"Please, Pam, will you tell me what happened?"

"I'm trying to, Troy. I have to just have to try to get it straight in my mind. If you can't be patient…"

"All right, Pam, in your own time."

"He sort of hedged around and stuttered, then at last he came out with it – or at least, part of it."

"He said, 'Mother, for years I've wanted to …to…'" 

I couldn't let it go on, so taking the big chance I said, "You've wanted to have sex with me?"

"I thought for a moment he was going to pass out because if possible he went event paler. I didn't know if I'd hit the nail on the head or made a terrible mess of things. Then he whispered almost inaudibly, 'Yes'."

"Neither of us spoke. We sat there as if we were paralysed. Then I undid my bra and pulled his head down to my breasts. I got a hand under one breast and brought the nipple to his mouth. It was beautiful, Troy, exquisite. I know it sounds corny to say so, but I really felt as if I was in paradise. After all these years, the son I loved so much was suckling at my breast again. Can you understand that?"

"Yes, Pam, I can understand" - After all, had I not just recently had the same experience with Miles? - "How did it go on?"

"With a great deal of energy. Once David realised that I wanted him sexually, it was as if some barrier came crashing down. Well, just look at me. We didn't stop all night. I haven't had a wink of sleep and I rushed out this morning to get here."

"Two incestuous mothers," I said with a wry smile. "Do you think it's going to be serious with you and David? I mean, will it last?"

"I bloody well hope so, Troy. You know I've had several men, but nothing like this."

"Are you still on the pill, Pam?"

"Yes, thank goodness. If I wasn't, and the quantity of sperm was anything to do with it, David would have given me quads four times over last night. Do you think you're pregnant?"

"I'll know in a couple of weeks time."

"Tony will go mad if you are."

"Why should he? He's having his fair share of women, so why shouldn't I have a man?"

"Yes, but getting pregnant – and with your own son!"

"I'll make sure he never knows who the father is, and in any case, I'm leaving Tony."

"If David is really serious about me, then I think I'll leave Ben. He hasn't fucked me for years, and like Tony, he has his women. Fortunately, unlike Tony, he keeps his love life away from the practice."

"I'm leaving Tony no matter what happens," I said, "but as far as our boys are concerned, perhaps we'd better wait and see. They might just cool off, especially Miles if I am pregnant. It's a bit much to expect them to stay with women who are twice their age, and their mothers on top of it."

"God, I hope David and I do cool off a bit. If we don't, we'll die of exhaustion. On the other hand, where am I going to get loving like this again?"

"Good question, Pam. But tired or not, we'd better get on with some work."

We both laughed, and went to our waiting patients.

Chapter 11. Pam Gets an Idea.

On Tony's return from his alleged seminar week, I wasted no time in telling him I was leaving him. He ranted and raved for a while, threatening that I would not get the house or its contents, and he would fight me in the courts if I demanded money.

When I informed him I did not want the house, and all I wished to take with me were my personal things, he calmed down a bit and actually made me a financial offer as a sort of pay out. I wanted to depart with the minimum of fuss, so I accepted his offer.


When Miles told him that he was going to live with me, he made a sneering comment, "A couple of girls together, eh!" I think Miles was ready to punch his father on the nose, but I managed to hustle him out of the room.

I waited a full month after I was due to menstruate so as to be as sure as possible without a medical check, then announced to Miles that I was probably pregnant.

This is the moment when men tend to flee from their sexual partner, not so with Miles. He was delighted and began to treat me as if I was a piece of fragile glassware, until I informed him that I was not sick and quite strong enough to continue a vibrant sex life for some time ahead. Unfortunately, we were rather limited in the times we could come together for sex with Tony around the house, but we did our best.

From my discussions with Pam, I learned that having started the sexual relationship with David, she had let loose a monster in her life, even though a monster she was enjoying. It seemed that he could not leave her alone, and as Pam put it, "We are at it every minute we can." I must say that apart from the morning after their first night, she seemed to blossom, looking more attractive than ever.

I had to find somewhere to live, and in discussing this with Pam, she came up with an idea.

"Troy, why don't we get a place together, I mean, the four of us? It looks as if you and Miles are going to be permanent fixtures, and I'm leaving Ben and going to do my best to keep David, so why not live together?"

I was no sure about this. Pam was a very dear friend and had been Auntie Pam to Miles, as I was Auntie Troy to David, but I recognised that Pam has a dominant personality, and while I can handle this at work, I was not sure how we would get on in the domestic scene.

"Two women in one kitchen, and all that sort of thing?" I queried.

She grinned, "I see what you mean. But don't let's close our options. Look around and see if we can find something that will suit us." She laughed, "Might find something with two kitchens."

I did not think that there was much chance of finding a two kitchen house, or one that would allow for some level of privacy. I did, however, see one advantage in Pam's idea. Houses were very expensive, and while both of us made a good income from our practice, to have someone share the cost of buying would be a big help.

I visited several agents to find out what they had available, and inspected a number of places. I had short-listed three possibilities, when one morning Pam came bursting in.

"Darling, I've found just what we need," she crowed.

"You mean you've found a place with two kitchens?"

"Not quite, but almost. You'll just love it. I've got the key, let's go and look at it lunchtime."

I tried to get Pam to tell me more, but all she said was, "Just see it, darling."

At lunchtime we went off to see this paradise Pam had found. When we arrived in the suburb my first reaction was to wail, "We couldn't afford to buy here!"

"Just wait and see, Troy."

The suburb was just north of the city centre. It had been one of the first areas to be populated by the early colonists, back in the nineteenth century. It is a fascinating mixture of large, mansion type houses built by those who got rich in the early days, and the little cottages of the less successful. They are all jumbled together in egalitarian fashion.

Pam stopped the car outside two cottages that were joined together – semi-detached I think they are called, and are now much sought after by the nouveau riche dot com young people. 

The cottages were of stone with corrugated galvanised iron roofs. Pam was almost beside herself with excitement. 

The main point about the cottages was that a previous owner had made them into a single dwelling by the simple expedient of knocking a hole in the party wall and putting in a door. The result, with a few other adjustments was, four bedrooms, two lounges, one bathroom and another room that had been a bathroom, two toilets and one kitchen and yet another room that had been a kitchen.

"Look, Troy," Pam burbled, all the connections are still there, we could easily restore the old kitchen and bathroom. All we'd have to do is buy a cooking stove, a bath and a few other things, and…well…there you are."

"How much?" I asked.

"It's very convenient for the city, and not far from our practice, darling…"

"How much?"

"If you think of how much we would have to pay if we bought separate houses…"

"How much?"

She drew out a piece of paper from her shoulder bag. I glanced at it and felt my knees go weak.

"Pam, are you mad! How could we ever afford this?"

"Well, you said Tony is paying up, and I'm certainly going to screw something out of Ben…"

"But Pam, it wouldn't be enough to pay for this."

"We could get a mortgage from the bank."

"And spend the rest of our lives paying it back?"

"Troy, darling, it would be lovely. The boys have always been like brothers and we…well…we get on all right, don't we? We wouldn't have to live in each other's pockets…I mean you and Miles could live in one part and David and I in the other, and…"

"No Pam!"

"But Troy…"

"No."

Pam seemed to give way. "Oh well, I tried…but if you don't want to, you don't. You could at least have given it some thought."

We left with me in defiant and Pam in disconsolate mood.

Chapter 12. Pam's Nice Offer.

Over the next couple of days I went and looked at the places on my short list. None of them seemed to be what I wanted, and I kept getting flashbacks to the cottages. They were certainly very pretty, and had all the virtues Pam had indicated. But the price!"




The Relief of Troy



I suppose the way I had balked at the idea of sex with Miles was an indication of my personality. It takes me a bit of time to come to terms with a new idea or pattern of behaviour. As the days passed, the cottages loomed larger and larger in my thoughts.


I talked the matter over with Miles and his comment was, "I don't mind where we live, as long as we're together."

I did sums on pieces of paper and finally, with Tony making it clear he wanted us out of the place, I decided. 

Late one night I telephoned Pam. "Okay, Pam, if we can get a bank mortgage, let's buy the cottages."

"Oh Troy, darling, wonderful," she babbled down the phone. "I'll see the bank manager tomorrow morning."

She did more than that. Out of her own savings she slapped down a holding deposit on the cottages, and within a week had the mortgage papers in front of me for signing. With a shaking hand, I signed.

Both Pam and I had brought personal things into the cottages, but we had to buy items of furniture and have the necessary work done to restore the old bathroom and kitchen. It was amusing to note that when it came to furniture buying, the first item on both our lists, was a large – very large – bed.

There now began what I now think of as my halcyon days. With my pregnancy medically confirmed and the child growing within me, I basked in Miles' love. We still had our "Good morning" love session on a kitchen chair, and our "Hello" intercourse over the table. At night, in bed, we continued to love half the night away. 

I am fortunate in that during pregnancy, I feel extremely well, but as my abdomen began to swell, the ever gentle Miles grew even gentler. He was determined that nothing was to harm the baby or me.

One of the really lovely things about Miles as a potential father was, that whereas many men saw a pregnant woman's swollen belly as ugly, he saw only beauty. He would run his hand over my belly saying, "You've never looked more beautiful, Troy. Since moving into the cottages, both Miles and David had dropped the "mother" and "Auntie" titles, and called us by our names. 

Well before he needed to, Miles stopped penetrating me, and I resorted to masturbating him or giving him oral sex. I knew this did not completely satisfy him, but he was adamant that he would not take the slightest risk with me.

I think it was painful for both of us, as, despite the thickness of the dividing wall, we could hear the boisterous sexual revels of Pam and David as they reached their climax.

I was talking over this feeling of loss with Pam one day during lunchtime at work, saying how I was looking forward to the time when after the birth, we would be able to resume full sexual contact.

Pam became very thoughtful, then with extreme caution asked, "Do you think Miles likes me?"

"Of course he does, Pam. He's always been very attached to you since he was a little boy. You were his Auntie Pam."

"Look, Troy, don't get angry…its only a tentative suggestion…but do you think…would you mind…I mean…could I help Miles?"

"How do you mean, Pam?"

"Well, if you didn't mind and it was all right with David… just occasionally…perhaps once a week…I could…I could…Damn it, Troy, I could let him have sex with me."

She stopped, breathless. I stared at her, not certain if I had heard correctly.

"Are you suggesting that you and Miles have sexual intercourse?"

"Er…yes…I mean, only until…until you've got over having the baby…and…and if it would help Miles…it would be a loving thing to do…wouldn't it, Troy?"

I avoided her question and asked snappily, "Are you and David not contended with each other, isn't he enough for you?"

"Of course he is, Troy. I only thought as you and Miles were having sex as often as David and I, and suddenly Miles can't be with you properly for a while…well…I thought it would be nice to at least offer, that's all."

I suppose my question about she and David was superfluous, since Miles and I could hear them every night through the wall rejoicing over each other. As to her offer being "nice," I was not so convinced, so I took up another thread.''

"Pam, how do you think David would feel about you and Miles having sex together?"

Oh, I already asked him. He thinks it's a great idea. He even said that if I ever got pregnant he'd appreciate the same offer from you.

That touched a nerve. Since coming to live in the cottages there had not been the sort of commune style living that had been envisaged, despite the communicating door. We still lived separate lives, but I had seen much more of David than in the past. One result of this had been my contemplation of him as a desirable male, and wondering what it would be like having sex with him. I had kept this thought well hidden, even from myself, but Pam had made it surface by stating that David would like to have sex with me.

If I had been eyeing David as a possible sex partner, however remotely, had Pam been eyeing Miles in the same way? It seemed clear she had. That David had been interested in me, made me wonder if Miles had been contemplating Pam. Perhaps most people, however they try to cover it up, looked at each other in this way, wondering what they would be like in bed?

Pam interrupted these thoughts, and in an exasperated voice said, "Look Troy, just forget it. I thought I was offering something loving and not suggesting murder. I'm sorry I spoke."

Lunchtime was over and that concluded the conversation, but I could not, as Pam said, "forget it." It continued to rattle around in my brain for the next three days.

It got to the point where I felt I just had to test it out with Miles. I waited until we were in bed, and Miles was running his hands over my swollen belly and telling me how beautiful I looked. I started in slowly.

"Miles, you like Pam, don't you?"

"What a question, of course I like her." He grinned, "She never forgets my birthday."

"No, darling, I mean do you like her as a person…as a woman?"

"Well since she is a woman, how else should I like her?"

"Miles, what I'm asking is, do you think she's attractive?"

"Not as attractive as you."

"But you do think she's attractive?"

"Yes. David is almost as lucky as I am to have such a sexy mother."

"Then you think she is sexy?"

"Yes, she's…Look, what are you getting at Troy?"

"I was just wondering how you feel about her. I mean, have you ever thought what she'd be like in bed?"

"Well, I suppose…well, its natural isn't it. You look at a woman…Hey, what is this? Do you think I'm going to try something on with her?"

"No darling, but as we aren't…doing anything…"

"You thought I might try getting it with Pam," he said, finishing my sentence. 

"Not exactly…"

"Then what, 'exactly'?"

"Miles, you won't be angry…?"

"Troy, I love you very dearly, but you're beginning to irritate me, so please, tell me what you are getting at."

"Well, Pam suggested that you might like to…to" I struggled to find a non-pejorative way of expressing it. "She said it would be all right if you wanted to…to relieve yourself in her."

Miles had still been stroking my belly, but now he stopped.

"Are you telling me that Pam would let me fuck her?"

"Yes, if you must put it like that."

"But you know I'm committed to you, don't you?"

"Of course, darling. But if you felt you needed to have someone, just until I've recovered from having the baby…then…"

"Then it's okay if I have Pam?"

"Yes."

"What about David. He's not going to like it, is he?"

"Well, you see, darling, he's already agreed to it."

"He's what?"

"There is something else, through, Miles. I think he and Pam are thinking of having a baby, and…"

"And he would expect you to do the same for him?"

"Yes. I wouldn't, darling, if you didn't want me to…"

"But it would be all right if I agreed?" 

I felt as if I was on a sexual razor-edge. I knew I could accept David as a sexual partner, but I didn't want to lose Miles, who was my first love. I waited for his response.

"Troy, let me talk to Pam myself. I'd just like to get it straight with her what she's offering."

"All right, darling. The conversation seemed to have aroused him as I could feel his erection pressing against me. I asked, shall I masturbate you?" 

"Yes please."

I began by flipping his foreskin rapidly over the crown of his penis, and as I felt him about to come, I finished him off with oral sex.

Chapter 13. A Kiss is a Kiss.

Over the following two days, nothing further was said about the possible sexual relationship between Pam and Miles. On the third day in the early evening, I noticed Miles going through the communicating door between our cottages. He was gone for about an hour, and on his return, looked very relaxed and cheerful. Still nothing was said.

I was getting near the time when I would give birth, but I was still attending the practice. At lunchtime, I could see that Pam had something to tell me, and I was sure I knew what it was.

To forestall her I said, "You and Miles had sex yesterday."

"Yes."

"I hope you enjoyed it, because I could see Miles did." 

"If you must know, Troy, he was different."

"Different in what way?"

"I can't really explain, but it was different. Very tender and loving and taking it slowly. He made me come twice before he shot into me."

I was in a turmoil of jealousy. If I had not said anything to Miles about Pam's offer, or I had told him I didn't want him to take her offer, I felt sure that would have been the end of the matter. Instead, I had left it open to him to choose.

Lurking behind my jealousy was the fear that Miles would come to prefer Pam to me, and that would have all sorts of ramifications for all our relationships. Pam seemed to understand what I was feeling, and tried to placate me.

"Troy, I'm not trying to take anything away from you. I'll stop now if you want me to. Miles was only trying to relieve his sexual frustrations with me. As I said before, you two, like David and I, have been heavily into sex, and then for Miles, it stops. I know he was the one who stopped it, and he did it because he wants to be sure nothing will harm you or the baby. God knows what sort of a state David would be in if I were the pregnant one. Why not let me take care of Miles until after you've recovered from the birth? After that, he'll get nothing more from me."

"It all right Pam," I replied. "It's just that I've never been used to this sort of open sexual morality."

She laughed. "And you're having sex with your own son, and are even pregnant to him!"

I had to laugh with her at the ridiculousness of my words. I had scattered the bits and pieces of sexual morality I had gleaned from my upbringing, and broken through one of the most dreaded taboos, and now I was worried about Pam and Miles? When I put it to myself like that, it did seem bizarre. 

I moved over to Pam and saying, "Thank you for looking after Miles," I bent and kissed her softly on the lips.

I had never kissed Pam on the lips before, and I was disconcerted when, as our lips held together for a moment, I felt a little thrill of excitement ripple through me.

Pam must have felt it too, because she said, "My God, if you kiss Miles like that, it's no wonder he wants you so badly." Trust Pam to state the matter starkly.

Flustered, I move away from her saying, "Time to get back to work." I hastened from the room.

For the rest of the afternoon, I continued to be disturbed by our mutual, if guarded response, to the brief touching of our lips.

That night in bed I told Miles I knew about Pam and he, and asked him how it had felt. Oddly, he used the same words as Pam."

"It was different."

"How different, darling?"

"It wasn't serious. It was sort of lighthearted."

In a way, I was relieved to hear this. Knowing how seriously Miles engaged in sex with me, it was a comfort to know that it was apparently more casual with Pam.

From then on Miles went to see Pam a couple of times each week, obviously in search of sexual consolation. If it troubled David at all, it seemed to make no difference to the noisy nightly couplings we could hear through the dividing wall. This I also found reassuring. 

Chapter 14. A Child is Born.

The baby was born at the due time. Miles, Pam and David were all present at the birth. It was a girl whom we named Angharad, a Welsh name meaning "Much Loved."

The presence of Miles, Pam and David seemed to draw us closer together into a bond of love that also embraced Angharad. It dispersed the remaining fears I had about Pam and Miles, as I saw that the physical was in its self, less important than the love and caring that gave rise to it. 

As I took Angharad to my breast for the first time, with the others present, David gave a little gasp and said, "That looks lovely, Troy."

His remark surprised me because David had always seemed so brash in his approach to life, and I had not expected him to be so affected by the sight of a suckling infant. Added to my surprise was a feeling of uneasiness, as I observed a swelling in his groin. Clearly, he was becoming aroused at the sight of my naked breasts.

Whether this arousal was seen by Pam and Miles I don't know.

Miles was almost beside himself with joy over Angharad and his new status as a father. Long after Pam and David had departed the hospital, Miles stayed on, caressing and thanking me for bearing what he called, "His little baby." I had to correct him on this score, pointing out that it was "Our baby."

At one point in this time of tenderness, he casually said, "I wonder when Pam and David will have their baby?"

I smiled and said, "I don't think she's pregnant, darling."

"Oh no, she's not pregnant, but David told me that Pam is going off the pill so that they can have a child. Of course, it means I won't be able to…to be with Pam, I mean, they want to be sure who the father is."

For the second time I felt a surge of excitement spear me. If Pam became pregnant, I knew what it would eventually mean. As Pam ceased to have sexual intercourse, David would come to me. There was no compulsion for me to couple with him, but I faced the fact that my deep self wanted him.

It was not that I loved and desired Miles any less, but my circle of love had widened. It could now embrace David as well as Miles, and also…I hesitated as I recalled that soft kiss between Pam and I. Was I…could I…? I let that aspect rest for the time being, and focused once more on my sweet Angharad.

It was to be some weeks before I could return to work, so Pam battled on, trying to deal with some of my patients as well as her own. Once I came home from the hospital, she made a point of coming in to see me every day to give me the news and cuddle Angharad. It was during one of these visits that she told me she was going to stop taking the pill so that she and David could have a child.

She said nothing about her and Miles, but when a couple of weeks later Miles ceased his evening visits to Pam, I understood what was going on.

As Pam ceased taking the pill, I started. Miles and I had discussed the matter, and concluded that any further pregnancies might have a deleterious effect on my health.

"You've had a boy and a girl, so you don't need any more," he joked with me.

When I was ready, we returned to a full sexual relationship, including the "Good morning" and "Hello" couplings.

I also returned to work, but rather than dump Angharad in a baby minding centre, I took her to work with me where she slept much of the day in a cot I had installed in my consulting room. This enabled me to continue breastfeeding her and her presence seemed to have a positive effect on my patients, rather than be a nuisance.

Chapter 15. Troy Discovers Her Self. 

Several weeks went past before Pam announced that she was pregnant. She and David were in celebratory mood, and it was a champagne evening.

Toward the end of the evening, Pam, slightly inebriated, took me aside and said, "You'll help David, won't you?"

I replied, "Of course I will, Pam," that little thrill racing though me again. 

Pam pressed a kiss on my lips, letting it linger even longer than the first one. This sent another dagger of excitement through me.

I started to feel that I had been going through a whole series of identity shifts as far as my sexuality was concerned. First, there had been the conservative husband and wife relationship. This was followed by two lovers, then by my son. Fertilised by my son, I had finally accepted his sexual contact with my friend, and now I desired not only my friend's son, but her as well. Clearly, my sexual scope was much broader than even twelve months before, I could have imagined.

I continued to breast feed Angharad long after Miles and I returned to sexual union. He did not touch my breasts at first, but I recalled how earlier in our relationship, I had longed for milk to feed him once more at my breasts.

One night, as we loved, I took one of those chances that one sometimes has to take in a sexual relationship. I lifted one breast with my hands and extended its nipple toward him and said:

"Darling, would you like to taste my milk?"

He gave a soft moan and brought his lips to the nipple, and taking it into his mouth, began to suck. I felt serenity spread over me, and the thought came, "He is father of my child, yet he is still my child." Love embraced me, and I began to quietly weep tears of joy. After that, and for as long as I was lactating, I suckled him as well as Angharad.

One cloud appeared on my horizon soon after Pam had announced her pregnancy. Miles started to go into their cottage again a couple of time each week. I got worried to the point where I had to confront Miles.

"Darling, I know you're having sex with Pam again. What can she give you that I can't?"

"There is something," he said. "She enjoys anal sex so she lets me have it with her."

I was at a loss to make a response for a moment. However expanded my sexual interest had become, I knew it was the one thing I could never do, not even for my beloved Miles. I told him so.

"I know Troy, and I'd never want you to do anything that would trouble or hurt you. But Pam is happy to do it with me, and I admit I like the change. Do you want me to stop?"

His visits to Pam had not brought about any diminution in his sexual contact with me, so, turning another corner in my sexual journey, I said:

"Its all right, darling. If it adds to your sexual pleasure and Pam's, why not?"

Chapter 16. A New Experience for Troy.

The time drew near when David and Pam would have to stop having sex. The nearer the moment drew, the more eager I became. I would have other hands exploring my body, another penis in my vagina. I wondered how Miles would take it, so I spoke to him about it.

"Darling, you know what I must do for David soon?"

"Yes, of course."

"You don't mind?"

"David hasn't minded about Pam and I, so why should I mind if you are generous to David? You do like him, don't you?"

"Of course I do, Miles, I wouldn't let him touch me if I didn't."

"Troy, there is one thing I'd like to say."

"What darling?"

"Pam was wonderful with me. She didn't hold back anything. You will be generous with him, won't you? I mean, you won't just lie there with your legs open…?"

"Miles, I shall give him all the pleasure I can, but you know the one thing I won't do?"

"Yes. Do you want me to speak to him about it?"

"If you would, my love. It might save embarrassment later."

Miles went on, "Look, if I can arrange it, when you and David are together, I could go to Pam. I know we can't have sex, but I could keep her company for an hour or two. It might make it easier for you both, and probably for me as well," he grinned. "I might not like hearing you two getting noisy. I've often wondered how David felt when Pam and I were making a noise." 




The Relief of Troy



Next day, seeing David, I said to him, "Whenever you're ready, David, but have a talk to Pam first, will you, we need to arrange the timing."

"We've already discussed that with David," he chuckled, "Can we start tonight?"

The way I was feeling I could have started right then with him, but I was on my way to work, so I smiled and said, "Tonight it is, then, David, but make it after eight so that Angharad is asleep." 

I tried to sound nonchalant about our up coming sexual contact, but don't know how convincing I sounded. Just the thought of being with David made my nipples hard, and there was a suspicious wetness between my legs. The day seemed to drag as I longed for my first time with David. 

I got home and having ceased lactating some time before, I prepared Angharad's meal and fed her. Miles and I ate our evening meal, or rather, Miles ate his. Somehow, I was not feeling hungry. 

After that, Miles watched over Angharad as I showered. I paid particular attention to my vulva while showering, as I wanted to be sweet and fresh for David. I didn't bother to fully dress, but slipped on a rather sexy see through little lace garment.

I went through to the lounge where Miles and Angharad were, and when Miles saw me he grinned and said, "I think David is going to have a good time. Save some for me, won't you?"

"I'm putting Angharad to bed now. Would you go and tell David to come in about fifteen minutes?"

"Right. By the way, Pam said I can still have anal sex with her for another week or so."

"Then don't go getting rid of all your juice, will you?"

He laughed and went into the other cottage.

Angharad dropped quickly off to sleep, so, unable to keep still because of my excitement, I moved around doing some superfluous tidying. 

I heard the connecting door open and close, and then David walked in. He wore only a pair of pajama shorts, and his erection was clearly visible. 

Despite his obvious arousal and his normally animated manner, now he looked rather bashful. 

He looked at me and whispered, "Oh my God, Troy, you're absolutely…absolutely…"

He struggled to find the appropriate adjective, and finally came out with, "stunning."

He still made no move towards me, so I went to him, and pressing close so that my breasts pushed against his bare chest, I said in a low voice, "Wouldn't you like to take me to bed, David?"

I felt his hard manhood pressing against my lower abdomen, so I ground myself against him, rotating my hips.

Had I been able to think straight at that time, I might have been amazed that the once reticent mother, wanting yet fleeing from her son, could now be so brazen.

Miles had begun the task of striking the chains that had bound my sexuality, now with David, they fell from me completely.

I had always been fond of David since he was a little boy. In truth, I could say I "loved" him, but I was not "in love" with him as I was with Miles. What I was feeling was bold animal lust for him. I wanted to devour him, to suck his love fluids from him. I felt as if I wanted to tear him to pieces with teeth and nails.

Suddenly, he seemed to explode into pulsating life.

In contrast to Miles, who is tall and strong in a wiry sort of way, David is shorter and stocky with obvious muscular development. He swept me up into his arms and carried me into the bedroom, laying me on the bed.

He all but ripped my garment off, then took off his shorts to reveal a long, hard shaft already dripping with pre-cum. 

He came beside me and immediately began exploring my vulva; parting the out lips to probe with his finger my inner buds, and letting it slip into my vagina. Feeling I was already soaked with my lubricant, he spread my legs wide and finding my opening before I had the chance to guide him, he pushed into me.

He began to move up and down in me immediately, pulling back until he was almost out of me, then thrusting in deep. As he did this he kept deep kissing me, and I, feeling as if I was being ravished, managed during break in the kisses, to moan out in words I had never used before, "David, oh David, fuck me to death. Don't stop…spear me to the heart."

Always with Miles my orgasms approached slowly and relentlessly, with David it came out of nowhere, a titanic series of shock waves that jolted my entire body, and with my legs wrapped round him I was screaming, "Deeper, deeper."

His hands came under my buttocks as he pressed his last millimetre into me. Then he was blasting into me as I continued to writhe under the torment of my orgasmic climax. I felt his sperm smashing against the top of my vagina and I was so overwrought, I thought I might faint.

Then almost as suddenly as it had begun, our raving madness ceased. It was as if we had come along a river of raging cataracts, to sail out onto a placid lake.

We lay, gasping, still in the final positions we had adopted for the great climax. 

David began to speak: "My God, Troy, you're terrific, out of this world. I want to fuck you until neither of us can stand up. Let me give you some oral sex."

"But David," I began to protest. My vagina was full of his sperm and my fluids and I though he would find it repugnant, but with David, it was direct action. 

He drew my sex organ up to his face, but so I was looking down his body. I felt his tongue begin to explore my opening and clitoris. Before I properly realised what I was doing, we were in the 69 position, tasting our mixed fluids.

Again the shock waves struck me, and at the height of my jarring climax, David was ejaculating into my mouth. Still trying to cope with my own delicious torment, I struggled to swallow his salty seed. It flooded me and ran out of my mouth, dripping onto his upper thighs.

Again, we were out on our quiet lake, gasping as we strove to recover from our exquisite ordeal. I rolled away from him onto my back, and we lay quietly, side by side. 

After a while David bent over me and began kissing, both of us once more smelling and tasting each other. It was I who started to kiss more fiercely, and then I fulfilled the ambition I had to consume him. 

I must have become like a wild animal, for I was biting and clawing at him. I was in the grip of a licentious frenzy, spinning out of control.

It was David who heightened this headlong sexual fury. He almost tore my legs apart, and thrust in. It was as if some demon had possessed us, as we spun in a howling, screaming maelstrom of unbridled lasciviousness. There was no mercy and no surrender as we fought together in our insane hunger for each other.

Our orgasms came and passed, and once more, we lay side by side, exhausted by our carnal exertions.

This time we had truly finished. David rose from the bed, kissed me lightly on the lips, and said in a rather mundane fashion, "Thank you, Troy, it was wonderful." Then he left.

Chapter 17. The Best of all Possible Worlds.

I lay for a while, still recovering from the violence of our coupling. I wondered if Miles would want me, or whether he had been satisfied by his anal sex with Pam.

I rose from the bed, and seeing the mess our fluids had made, I changed the linen and went for a shower. Feeling somewhat recovered, I looked in on Angharad, then dropped down on the bed. 

I heard Miles come in through the communicating door. This was followed by the sound of a shower running, and then he came into the bedroom still drying him self with a towel. 

He chuckled and said, "You two must have had a wild time. We could hear the riot through the wall. Was he good?"

"He'll do," I replied, deciding that understatement was the safest way to go.

When he finished drying himself, Miles dropped into bed beside me. "Do you think you can cope with me tonight?"

"Darling, if you want me, I'm always here for you."

Miles was his usual gentle self, and although I had exulted in the violence of my coupling with David, it was a relief to now be subject to the gentle handling of Miles. I think both us had had a riotous time, but we still both came very sweetly and lovingly.

A week later Pam had to cease all sexual contact, and I was left to satisfy both Miles and David. Miles was the lover to whom I was bound by blood ties and out child, so David was limited to being with me no more than twice each week. Never the less, I was grateful to David for initiating me into another aspect of sexual contact.

We were all present when Pam gave birth. It was another girl, and following our example, they named her after a goddess, Morrigan. I'm not sure if they knew the full implication of the name. She is the Irish war goddess, and I thought it not inappropriate, because if her conception was anything like my sexual experiences with David, then she was born out of a war.

After her recovery from giving birth, and once more taking the contraceptive pill, Pam returned to sexual activity. At first, each lover returned to their original partner, but this did not last.

The situation was that Pam and I, having experienced both David and Miles, found something that appealed in each of them. We both wanted David's rumbustious approach, and at the same time desired Miles' gentle and longer lasting coupling. In the end, we had to call a general meeting to discuss our various needs.

Pam and I had already discussed the matter, but in conversation with the boys, we learned that they too found something special in each of us females. It was something they did not want to let go. The outcome was, that we agreed that our sexual partnerships were interchangeable, but Miles and I still remained in a primary partnership, and the same with David and Pam. 

Thus, we seemed to have the best of all possible sexual worlds, each of us supplementing the other in our ways of making love. And it had indeed become a bond of love between the four of us. It was this very bond that led to another step in our relationship, making our "best of all possible sexual worlds" even better.

Chapter 18. When Four is Company.

Unexpectedly it was Miles who suggested the next step. 

The four of us had now started to eat the evening meal together three or four time a week. It was towards the end of one such meal, and on an evening when Miles was going to partner Pam and I David, that he came out with it.

"Look," he said, "We all know each other pretty thoroughly now. We've been naked in each other's presence, we've all had sex with each other, so why not a foursome? We might be able to do some wonderful things together."

"That's a terrific idea," said David, enthusiastically.

"I'm game to try anything," Pam responded.

"What would we do," I asked, somewhat unsure of how one went about a foursome.

"Well, there's only one way to find out," Miles said. "Let's do it now."

We selected the lounge as the venue for our joint sexual operations, and while Pam and David raced into their cottage to collect cushions and pillows, Miles and I scattered what we had across the floor.

I went into Angharad's room to check that she was asleep, and when David and Pam returned I asked, "What about Morrigan?"

"Fast asleep," said Pam. "I've left the communicating door open so I can hear her if she wakes."

We stripped off our clothes, and for a moment there was a pause as we decided what to do next.

It was the bold David who took the first step. He pushed me down onto the cushions and began deep kissing me. I felt hands exploring my breasts, then a mouth sucking my nipples. I saw it was Miles. I could also see that Pam had come to lie close to me, and Miles had his fingers in her vagina.

Miles and David changed places with Miles kissing me, and David sucking my nipples. Miles continued to stimulate Pam's vagina.

I felt David's fingers entering me, and locating my clitoris, he began to circle it gently.

Miles ceased kissing me and brought his penis to my mouth. David moved over to Pam, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw Pam, her legs spread wide and David's head between them as he gave her oral sex.

Again positions were changed, and David was giving me oral sex, while Miles penetrated Pam with his shaft.

There was a great deal of groaning and crying going on, and I heard Pam come with the sort of shrieks I had heard through the dividing wall in the past. Miles became noisy as he ejaculated into her, and as soon as he had finished, he rolled away. David immediately took his place, and with amazing speed, Pam was coming again.

Miles lay beside me for about ten minutes, then came over me and penetrated. Having already come into Pam, he was slow in ejaculating into me. I had two orgasms before I felt his sperm pounding into me.

David and Pam had completed their coupling, and were lying side by side recovering. Miles and I followed suit. 

Our first time as a foursome had been a bit of a jumbled affair, and if we were to try it again, we should need a better approach to it. That night, in bed with Miles, and after we had made love, I spoke to him about the problem. He came up with an idea that seemed to have some possibility.

"Suppose us men concentrate on you women one at a time." Once we have each penetrated one of you, we relax for a while, then work on the other woman? I know it sounds a bit formal, but it would be a start, and everyone would be able to get their satisfaction."

It was two evening later when we tried again. The two boys started with me, one kissing me, the other caressing my breasts and sucking my nipples. Then I felt my legs being parted and something soft and warm, entering my vagina. I thought at first that it was one of the boy's fingers, but quickly realised it did not feel like a finger. It was a tongue, but how could that be? Both the boys were…I managed to glance down. It was Pam. She was giving me oral sex.

Miles, who had been sucking my nipples, stopped and moved down my body, taking over from Pam. Pam replaced Miles at my breasts. I almost lost my arousal I was so taken aback.

Next, Pam was kissing me and David sucking my breasts. It seemed that Pam, like me was bi-sexual. If I was surprised by Pam's actions, I was even more surprised at my response. I was thrilled by her behaviour.

Miles and David penetrated me in turn. I came once with David and twice with Miles. After a brief rest, it was Pam's turn, and I decided to reciprocate, by giving her oral sex.

I had never tasted a woman before, although I had plenty of experience tasting the boys. I was tentative at first, then, as I grew accustomed to it, I began to understand why so many men liked giving us women oral sex.

The fragrance of her vagina and the taste of her fluid were working me up again, but the boys were ready to penetrate her. David, who always came more rapidly than Miles, was the first to take her. Like me, she only came once with him, but when Miles took her, she managed to orgasm twice.

Once David had finished he rolled away from Pam and lay on his back. I gave him a few minutes, and then took his penis into my hand and began to quickly jerk his foreskin over his crown. Once I had made him hard, I sat across him, and moving up and down on him, I brought myself off again. 

David did not come, but I had brought him close to it. Miles and Pam had finished, and already Miles had another erection. 

David moved Pam on to her side to face him, and with her leg curled over him, he entered her vagina. Meanwhile, Miles had positioned himself behind her and was penetrating her anus.

I lay watching, fascinated by the sound and fury of this triple coupling (or should it be tricycling?). 

David shot into her first but remained joined to her. Miles came a couple of minutes later, and then after a pause they withdrew from her.

We all lay exhausted and fulfilled by our efforts.

That night there was no love making in bed with Miles.

Chapter 19. Paradise Found and Lost

We continued our foursome, coming together two or three times each week. Over time our practices became more varied. For example, one night Pam announced that she wanted to be "raped". 

At first I was at a loss to understand how one who is engaging in voluntary sex, could be raped. Of course, she meant it as a game. 

The game entailed tying her down. This was not easy at first, as we always engaged in sex on the lounge room floor, and there was little to tie her to. After a couple of rape sessions, the boys came up with the idea of a big wooden frame with posts at the corners. Pam was laid inside the frame, then tied spread-eagled with the linen strips round her ankles and wrists, with the other ends tied to the posts.

It is strange that Pam, who is a dominant personality, enjoyed this form of sexual humiliation, but I understand that it is quite common for such dominant people to desire this form of treatment.

The idea was to torment her. We would stimulate her to the edge of orgasm, then withdraw from her, making her plead for us to make her come. One of us would be giving her oral sex, another sucking her nipples, and the third, if one of the boys, would have his penis in her mouth, or I would be sitting across her making her give me oral sex.

One of the things that really drove her mad was for one of the boys and I to copulate with each other where she could see us. Another delicious agony was the use of a dildo in her vagina while we played with her other erogenous zones. 

Eventually by one means or another, we would let her come, and this event was often accompanied by screams that nearly brought the ceiling down.

I did not allow myself to be tied down, but once we had finally allowed Pam to orgasm, and after a period of relaxation, we would see to it that each of the three of us who had tormented Pam had at least one orgasm.

Pam and I, having discovered our sexual attraction for one another, extended our sexual contact to our lunch times at work. During the hour break we allowed ourselves, we would pleasure each other, most often using only our fingers in each other's vaginas.

It was a period of sexual paradise and it was into this paradise that the bomb fell. We had known it might happen, but hoped that somehow it wouldn't.

David had completed his course and had been seeking work as a biochemist. Unable to get work in our city, he finally got an offer from an organisation in a city up north. He had no alternative but to take the job and Pam was determined to go with him. This meant the break up of our lives together and the end of my working partnership with Pam.

Pam, David and Morrigan departed with us all in tears. It was a bitter blow to us to be so far separated, and it brought about a marked modification in sexual activity between Miles and I.

I suppose the truth is our lives had become so sexually orientated – so oversexed as some might say – that copulation between Miles and I no longer seemed enough. Especially did Miles miss his anal sex with Pam, as I was still unable to accept this form of sex. I in turn felt the loss of David's robust penetrations.

Miles and I had not lost our fascination for each other, but having now experienced the broader sexual possibilities, we felt deprived. I think we were passing through a period of grieving for our loss.

Chapter 20. A New Start for Troy.

Apart from the loss of a sexual partner, I had also lost a work partner in Pam. I struggled to keep the practice going, but it started to wear me down.

Another problem I faced was, that Angharad was now too active to bring with me to work. On the other hand, I could not stop working because Miles was still financially dependent on me, and would be for at least another twelve months. To add to the financial woes, I now had to pay the entire mortgage repayments myself.

My first concern was to do something about Angharad. Then I got an inspiration. I remembered Pam's one time cleaner, Rosemary. I managed to trace her to where she lived in a two-room unit.




The Relief Teacher



The headmaster of St. Paul's University surveyed the room of young men and sighed. They were an unruly assembly of miscreants, and he knew with his hushed pronunciation that he would be unable to hold their full attention. But nonetheless he continued with his dialogue.

"This year is the most important of your academic lives" he explained over the chatter of the assembly hall. 

"Some of you will leave St. Paul's at the end of this term as men of industry, of the arts, of business and economics. You men will achieve great things, and shall represent the fine legacy of this great University. There are some of you, however, that will not."

With this, Mr Beaumont perused the room to seek out the least academic of his students. They were at the back of the room as usual, whispering to each other and not giving any concentration to the lecture. Mr Beaumont had long ago given up on John and Marcel achieving academic distinction, so instead of challenging them on their impertinence he turned again to readdress those in the assembly who were paying attention. 

"So good luck to you all, and remember your time here is nearly at an end. Work hard, and be magnificent!" 

There came some unrest from the back of the hall and some cheers from the front. A number of students had already risen from their seats to leave. Mr Beaumont himself had gathered his notes from the plinth when he abruptly called for quiet and gestured for the deserting students to be seated.

"Can I have your attention please? Before we all disappear, I would like to introduce you to our new relief French teacher Miss DuPont." 

With that, he gestured to a young lady sat with her back to the unruly throng. Miss DuPont stood up and turned to address the class. As she walked to the podium two hundred jaws hit the floor, for she was simply the most beautiful woman any of the young men had ever seen. 

She was in her mid-twenties, which qualified her as an older woman to her new students, with short spiky auburn hair and a very pretty face. All the boys were taken aback by her sparkling green eyes, attractive mouth, and most noticeably, her large voluptuous breasts that juddered beneath her loose fitting dress as she moved. 

At the precise moment that Miss DuPont commenced her speech to the waiting assembly, two hundred cocks became erect instantaneously.

"Thank you Mr Beaumont for your kind welcome, and hello to all of you boys" she said shyly in a beautifully soft French accent. 

"I look forward to working with you, and getting to know you all, over the coming term. Thank you."

John and Marcel looked at their new teacher with incredulity.

"Wow, she's beautiful" they enthused. 

They both strained to catch a glimpse of Miss DuPont as she lowered herself back into her chair at the front of the hall. Mr Beaumont then concluded the assembly, and the boys reluctantly returned to their dormitories. That night, the boys all dreamt of their sexy new French teacher Miss DuPont.

But sleep could not appease John and Marcel. They had become infatuated by Miss DuPont, and were anxious to steal another glance at her body. So they decided to break out of their dormitory and find her. 

This was a common sport for the boys. They often climbed the rooftops of the ancient university to spy on their teachers, and knew where Miss DuPont would be housed. So when the last boy had fallen asleep and the dormitory was quiet they absconded onto the rooftop, manoeuvring balustrades, slates and glass ceilings until they arrived at the staff quarters. 

This wing of the school was in complete darkness except for one window from where a solitary light shone. This was Miss DuPont's quarters, they were sure of it. The boys gave each other the thumbs-up, and then crept gingerly towards the window. Luckily for them the blinds were open and although they could not see her, the boys felt a rush of excitement at the thought that this was Miss DuPont's private space. Moreover, they had a clear view of her bedroom. 

The first details the boys observed were a brassiere and knickers on the floor at the foot of the bed. These strewn articles served only to further stimulate their delight. Then they looked toward the far end of the bedroom and saw a door that opened into a steam filled bathroom. This room was lit warmly from a dozen tea lights edging a ceramic bathtub and inside, relaxing in the warm soapy water, was Miss DuPont!

John and Marcel gasped at the sight. They could only see her outline through a mist of condensation, but the boys began to fidget hopefully in their kneeling positions. They would wait for as long as it took for Miss DuPont to step out of the bath so that they might see her naked body.

They had to wait only ten minutes before they got their reward. For it was then that their sexy new teacher rose out of the bath, dripping water onto the stone tiled floor and reached to take a fresh white towel from a rail. Miss DuPont then walked into the bedroom with the towel wrapped around her curvaceous body, but it barely concealed the abundance of swelling flesh at her chest. The boys could not believe their eyes. Miss DuPont was only inches away from them, still wet and naked save for the towel. They became erect at once. 

From outside on the rooftop the boys stared appreciatively as Miss DuPont took a brush from her vanity table and swept back her boyish hair. Then, to their astonishment, she let the damp towel drop to the floor. 

John and Marcel almost choked! Miss DuPont stood up and admired her lean body in a full length mirror on the adjacent wall. She felt the weight of her meaty breasts in her hands, and then turned to her side to appreciate her flat stomach and taut bottom. She appeared satisfied with her body, for she lingered over it with enthusiastic eyes, then sat on the edge of the bed and opened her legs. 

The boys were now open mouthed and salivating. They watched with incredulity as Miss DuPont reached down between her open thighs and pulled open the pared lips of her sex. In the bath she had been thinking about her ex-boyfriend. He had been a wonderful lover and she missed his body. Just the thought of him had made her want to come for it had been five months since they broke up, and for five months she had been without intimacy.

Using the wetness at the mouth of her sex she moistened a finger and drew it up long the folds of her vulva toward her clitoris, rubbing the finger over the exposed bud. The boys had a perfect view as Miss Dumont lay back on the bed and began stroking herself tenderly. 

They could hear her soft moans through the window as she rocked her hips against the hand that pleasured her sex. With her other hand she fondled her breasts, rubbing the sensitive nipples with her palm and making herself squirm with delight.

Miss DuPont masturbated like this for a short moment until she suddenly became impatient. She needed to come, desperately. 

She removed her hand from her bosom, and while prolonging the arousal on her sex reached underneath her pillow and produced her dildo. It was big, bigger than any cock the boys had ever seen, and as Miss DuPont eased it inside her wet opening the boys opened their pants to release their straining penises.

They began to stroke their cocks as Miss DuPont fucked herself with her dildo. She imagined her ex-boyfriend was fucking her, her body elongating as it yielded itself to the thick silicone shaft penetrating her sex. 

Jon and Marcel kept pace with their teacher as they feverishly rubbed their penises, their moans intensifying as they and Miss DuPont approached orgasm. Their senses were heightened as if they were in a drug induced haze. Wide eyed they gaped as Miss DuPont's spine curved upward into a sloping arc, her bosom jolting as she pounded the dildo into her body. 

As she thrust her hips upward, her thighs split wide to receive the sex toy that filled her cunt completely. Then her face contorted in ecstasy and she cried out inarticulately. With a final pounding from the dildo her bottom rose off the bed and she came violently, the pleasure coursing through each fibre of her body. 

At the sight of Miss DuPont's orgasm the boys could hold back no longer. Both of them steadied themselves against the widow frame and came freely, ejaculating onto the rooftop outside Miss DuPont's bedroom. 

The exhaled noisily as they expelled every last drop of semen from their cocks, and after a moment's recovery lifted their heads to see Miss DuPont lying spread-eagled on the bed with the dildo still inside her. She had a sly, satisfied smile and her hands were placed on the inside of her thighs. She stroked the soft flesh with her fingertips, basking in the warm glow of her orgasm. Then she curled onto her side, satisfied and ready to sleep, and it was then that Miss DuPont looked up to the window and saw the faces of the two boys staring at her with sloping grins.

John and Marcel recoiled in horror. With their deflated penises still in hand they turned away from the window and dashed across the roof top back to the silent dormitory, only pausing to adjust their trousers when they were safely out of Miss DuPont's sight. They were sure they had seen her at the window as they made their descent, and neither boy could sleep that night for fear she had recognised them. If she had, the consequences would be dreadful. Miss DuPont could have them expelled. With this terrible thought in mind they closed their eyes and waited in dread for the morning to arrive.

On the following morning Jon and Marcel were the first boys in the dormitory to rise, and after an anxious breakfast they walked in fearful silence to class. By terrible coincidence it was French that was first on the agenda. They took their seats at the back of the class, and bowed their heads as Miss DuPont strode to her desk and cheerfully greeted her students. 

As she commenced the lesson the boys kept their heads low so as not to draw attention to themselves, and Miss DuPont in return paid them little attention. In fact, it was as if they were not even there. Miss DuPont conducted the lesson as if it were any other, and as the hour drew to a close Jon and Marcel concluded that she had not recognised them as the boys at her window. They sighed with relief. They had got away with it.

When the bell rang signalling the end of the lesson the boys couldn't have been gladder, partially because they found class boring, but chiefly because it was hard to look at Miss DuPont without imaging her naked. It was most distracting, and the boys found themselves becoming very hard again as they remembered their teacher pleasuring herself on the bed.

Miss DuPont dismissed the class but as the students rose from their seats she looked toward the back of the room and saw Jon and Marcel moving sheepishly toward the exit.

"Excuse me, Jon and Marcel? Can you stay behind for a moment please?" 

She looked at them sternly, and as the rest of the class dispersed the boys walked dejectedly toward the desk where Miss DuPont sat waiting. 

The last departing student closed the door and Jon and Marcel found themselves alone with their young teacher. She said nothing to the boys, but observed them harshly as she tapped a pencil against the edge of the desk. Jon and Marcel had bowed their heads and fidgeted nervously as they awaited their penance. 

But instead of reprimanding the boys Miss DuPont put down the pencil and rose to her feet. She walked over to the door of the windowless classroom and locked it. Then she resumed her seat by the desk and straightened the hem of her dress. She gave a slight cough and addressed the boys.

"I know it was you boys watching me last night. What do you have to say for yourselves?"

The boys stared anxiously at the ground.

"Well? Speak up!"

John and Marcel reddened with shame and could only garble an apology.

"Sorry Miss" they both spluttered awkwardly. 

"Oh, you are sorry are you? Well, I am glad to hear it."

The boys raised their heads to glance at Miss DuPont. She did not appear so incensed and had visibly mellowed.

"And was it worth all your efforts, to see me naked?"

John and Marcel were not certain how to respond and chose to say nothing. 

"It's not a difficult question. Did you like what you saw?"

The boys both gave a confirmatory retort.

"Yes Miss."

"Speak up" Miss DuPont ordered. 

"Yes Miss. We liked what we saw."

Miss DuPont smiled playfully at the boys.

"Very good" she said. "And now it's only fair that I see what you have to offer me."

John and Marcel looked at Miss DuPont with disbelief. 

"What?" they asked. They were sure they had misunderstood her.

"You have seen me naked and now it is only fair that I see you naked too, oui? Now take down your trousers."

With that Miss DuPont slammed her hand down on the desk. The boys were afraid of further provoking their teacher so hurriedly unzipped themselves and pulled their pants down to the ankles. Miss DuPont suppressed a giggle as the boys stood nervously to attention. She was enjoying the power she held over her hapless pupils and looked on approvingly at the erections the boys had produced. 

"Very nice" Miss DuPont said, regarding the stiff penises with an intense yearning. "I approve."

She extended an arm and handled the tip of John's cock. No woman before Miss DuPont had ever touched him intimately, and he sighed at the pleasing sensations it aroused. 

"Come here" she ordered. 

The excited young man shuffled eagerly toward Miss DuPont. "Stand there."

John did as instructed and stood submissively by the desk in front of his teacher.

"Very good" she smiled. "And now you please."

Marcel followed Miss DuPont's command and took his place beside his friend. 

"Excellent. Now let's have a feel of your tackle, oui?"

Miss DuPont opened her hands and tightly clasped both boy's extended genitalia. She was impressed by the size and feel of their erections, and reasoned that any girl would be content to have one inside them. 

The boys gasped at the sensation of warm fingers coiling their penises. Miss DuPont had accurately judged their response. They did not protest as she began stroking their stiff members, inducing waves of immense pleasure that originated from the base of their scrotums. 

"Do you like that?" Miss DuPont asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yes Miss" the boys replied feebly.

John and Marcel steadied themselves against the desk, the polished wood cold against their bare bottoms, as Miss DuPont laboured over their penises. She was adept at caressing both cocks simultaneously, and both John and Marcel braced themselves for the imminent explosion. It felt wonderful to have their teacher masturbate them together, and they were soon close to orgasm.

Miss DuPont saw that the boys were approaching climax and decided to finish them off with flair. She ceased fondling the boys for a moment and opened the buttons of her blouse, exposing her naked breasts. Then once again she took hold of both penises and manipulated them in her hands, pumping the hard flesh until both boys cried out weakly.

John came first. The sight of Miss DuPont's naked breasts was too much to bear. He made a hoarse garbled sound and then discharged a slick pool of come upon her delicious playthings. Miss DuPont smiled kindly at John, and then turned her attentions to Marcel. She aligned his penis to her décolletage, pumping it tirelessly, and with her free hand caressed his scrotum. This was all that was needed to propel Marcel to orgasm. His mouth fell open and he moaned deeply, watching in delight as he spattered her meaty slabs with streaks of glutinous sperm.

"Now, now, good boy" Miss DuPont encouraged as Marcel flopped back against the desk.

She pumped both boys until they were drained of pleasure then clutched her soiled breasts, heaving them upward to stem the flow of semen oozing down her cleavage. She then stood up and walked away from the desk toward a sink by the door, where she washed away the viscous emissions from her bosom. After drying herself with a hand towel she lastly buttoned up her blouse, keeping her back to the boys throughout.

"You may now pull up your trousers, I am finished with you" Miss DuPont said as she returned to her chair. 

The boys did as they were told and they made themselves presentable.

"Very good, you did well. I am very pleased with you both. Now you can go. Shut the door on your way out." 

The boys gaped at one another in disbelief, and then returned their gaze to Miss DuPont. She was very amused by the boy's bewilderment.

"Go!" she hollered, feigning annoyance with the young men. 

Not wanting to displease their teacher the boys grabbed their bags and scampered out of the classroom, uttering goodbyes and mumbled thanks as they departed. Once alone, Miss DuPont laughed out loud. She had relished the experience of bringing two young men to orgasm as much as they had enjoyed the pleasure of climaxing onto her breasts, and now she was in need of release. She quickly packed up her things and hurried to her room, and her box of toys. 

The ensuing days were a torment for Miss DuPont. Her encounter with John and Marcel was conceived as an isolated incident, a bit of fun. But it had only served to exacerbate a suppressed hunger for intimacy. 

Classes became a trauma. Each glance at the boys stimulated her imagination. Her thoughts were inhabited with visions of their penises, hard and smooth in her hand. She imagined them inside her, their bodies entangled and sustaining. Her waking moments were lived as if in a hallucination.

Miss DuPont strived to become detached from the young men. She chided and humiliated them in class, becoming remote and showing reticence when they contributed to her lessons. Her diffidence was extravagant but deceitful. It obscured carnal appetites. Miss DuPont was not a woman to live as a nun. She was sensual and craved sex. The emotional struggle wounded her. 

Fortunately the boys recognised this deception. They empathised with her suffering. She was their teacher and had to maintain a professional relationship with her students. But she was also a sexual animal with incited desires. Her indifference would not be permanent, they were certain of it. 

Four days after their erotic encounter with Miss DuPont, the boy's conviction was substantiated. They were midway through an unusually tedious lesson. Both were struggling with a test Miss DuPont had designed. It was composed of harsh translations that neither boy could comprehend. They were uninterested by the examination, so engaged themselves by observing their sexy young teacher. 

She was dressed in knee high leather boots and a skirt that exaggerated each voluptuous curve of her shapely bottom. On top she wore a white blouse that effortlessly defined the swell of her bosom. Her hair was sleeked back to accentuate her mint green eyes and pretty face. The outward semblance inferred Miss DuPont as a sophisticated modern French professional. 

The boys could not avert their gaze from Miss DuPont and she saw it. For each dissolute glance they cast at her, she returned it with an equal fervour. This endured until Miss DuPont could pacify her womanly urges no more.

She walked to the back of the classroom, ordering her students to maintain focus on the examination. They were all by now wholly engaged with the test, and not one glanced away from the French paper as Miss DuPont approached John and Marcel. They lowered their heads uneasily as she positioned herself in the aisle midway between the desks where they sat. Neither John nor Marcel spoke. They silently deliberated on the intentions of Miss DuPont, who was now admonishing the other students.

"Keep your heads down and your eyes on the test. Any student who I observe looking at anything other than the paper on their desk will be disqualified."




The Reliever



I live in a blue collar city that has had its boom and bust cycles over the years. One occupation that is always in demand is that of hairdressers. My partner works at this profession and her coworkers are great to party with. A few times a year we have picnics or pool parties with all invited. There are other times when the parties are invitation only. Then there are the private meetings that are arranged to help the workers who are feeling sexually frustrated in their lives.

The most recent tryst involved Natasha.

Natasha was pregnant and horny. I have fathered three great kids and I remember that my wife also had this emotion or feeling at various stages of her pregnancies. Maybe not all women have these moments but it seems that it happens to those who are normally quite sexually active in their relationships. Natasha was one of these women. 

Salons are interesting places to work. Television has tried to show us the inner workings of these personal care establishments and I can tell you the conversations range from recipes to repeat orgasms. Natasha had been telling the girls that her boyfriend would not have sex during her pregnancy once she started showing. Her complaints of not having an orgasm for months made for funny backroom storytelling by all the other workers. Rose, my partner, told me of Natasha's problem and joked that I could solve her dilemma.

Initially I could understand her joke but a day or two later she mentioned it again. Natasha was really beginning to show and her body was changing. I drop in to the shop occasionally close to closing and this one time Natasha was telling us how she like her tits being a couple of cup sizes bigger. I must admit they did spill out of her bra a bit more than they used to. It was during this conversation that the comment was made again by Rose, not only to me but to Natasha as well. 

Now Natasha is about 23 and quite attractive. My balls began to tighten as the girls tossed the idea back and forth in a lighthearted way. Then Rose invited Natasha back to our place for a coffee. ( tea or me I gathered)

The shop was closed up, locked and the lights turned out and my cock strained at what might happen tonight. 

We drove home and I went to make a "treat" for Rosa and I. When I came back to the den Rose and Natasha were giggling and smiling as they talked about other co-workers. I sat beside Rose and lit up our "treat", not thinking Natasha would have a part due to her being due. Then she reached across and took the slim "stress reliever" from Rose. 

Rose turned to me and asked me if I remember Natasha's problem with sex. I did and then she proceeded to tell me she wanted me to help out her friend. Rose was going to visit another co-worker and would be back in a couple of hours, have fun she said as she put on her coat and left us alone.

The moment was here.

I took Natasha to our spare room and told her to relax, which was being helped along by the "treat" we had shared. We always have massage oil available and I told Natasha to kneel on a tub chair backwards and I would massage her back. I lifted her shirt over her dark locks and unfastened her bra letting those round globes out. My hands worked the muscles of her lower back and I could feel her body relax and hear her breathing deepen. The tension in her shoulders and neck began to ease and after 10 minutes she and I were just two humans pleasing each other.

She stood up and slipped out of her pants, I disrobed and my cock throbbed to the soft beat of music playing. Natasha reached out and stroked my cock and motioned for me to join her on the bed. I did not resist. Her skin was soft and her nipples hard. I kissed her lips and could tell she missed being intimate. Her belly was large and full of life and I was about to relieve her sexual tension.

She pulled her feet up and her legs spread naturally for me to explore her womanly depths. I kissed and gently nibbled on her nipples. Her moans spoke to me and I followed her scent with tenderness. With my tongue I parted her now swollen pussy lips. Her hands covered her breasts and softly squeezed those rock hard nipples. I teased her clit out of its hiding place and sucked it and twirled it while my fingers found their way inside her pussy. 

I could feel her g-spot waiting to be pressed. With my tongue licking her lips and clit as my finger massaged her inside I felt her hand touch my balls and cock. Suddenly she seemed to panicked and asked me to stop, she felt like she needed to pee she said. No I told her it wasn't that. Relax and don't worry about anything I said.

Slowly she relaxed and I continued my assault on her clit and g-spot. Her moans became louder and her hips began to buck up into my face. I held on and pressed harder onto her g-spot. She came, and came, and came. Her cunt squirted sweet pussy juice all over. I licked and sucked.Her body trembled from head to toe as her very first g-spot orgasm washed its way through her body.

I tell you men there is nothing like that in the world to feel a body respond to your touch like that.

Natasha was sweating from the experience and apologized for the mess. I assured her that this was not a mess but a release. Her body needed release and I was only too happy to make it happen.

I removed the towel that we keep on the bed grabbed the towels we keep near the bed and dried her legs and thighs. With a soft fleecy blanket wrapped around her now relaxed body she purred like a kitten.

I heard a car pull up outside and knew that sex tonight with Rose was going to be exhausting.

We let Natasha sleep for an hour or so then we both went to her and helped her wake up. Her faced was glowing and she looked like a different person, she was. 

Rose offered to call Natasha's boyfriend and tell him she was staying here tonight since she was too tired to drive. Natasha thanked Rose and then looking at me with her large brown tear filled eyes mouthed the words, thank you.



The Reluctancy of Bria



PART I

Bria moved slowly across the bed toward her lover's hand as he continually inched back. He forced her to crawl to him. Her aching for him was more than penetrable. It seared her soul. 

"Why do you do this to me?" she asked in a breathy staccato-like voice. Matt, looking at her mouth, wet and pouty before him, forced a sudden lunge startling her. He deliberately, but gently took hold of that plump lip between his very white teeth. He began to slowly nibble and she instantly felt her sex catch a flame from the chaotic burst of fervid heat. Just like the humid and sticky Philadelphia heat in late August that she was actually experiencing. Not that moment with Matt, the handsome lanky swimmer. His lip biting often ran through her head at moments that she least expected. 

She was furious that she had no control over that relationship. She seldom had control in any of her relationships for that matter. But Matt was different. His late night visits up West River Driver and over the Falls Bridge up winding roads to her house in Germantown were times she anticipated with great yearning. She would often leave the door unlocked for him so he would just slip into bed beside her. She relished the thrill of being awakened by her paramour, feeling his long slender legs wrap themselves around her thick thighs as his manhood greeted her joyously. She hated these thoughts, but they came so randomly, and her desperation was manifesting itself again with longing for the touch of a man. That special someone to remind her that she was indeed a human and in great need of affection. She accepted Matt's inconsistent bidding on her because she was needy, and she didn't want to cause trouble. Therefore, she pushed her true feelings aside and chose to have it his way. She thought it was much easier to accept these sub-standard lovers, for it was better to have some attention rather than none at all. At least that is how she rationalized it. She tried to play it brave. Unfortunately, it was all such a horrible front. 

The truth was she was hypersensitive, and to pretend to be emboldened was much easier to pull off. And although some people thought that she had some nerve in being picky, she felt that it was justified considering all that she had been through. She always asked herself why sensitive people are the pickiest people. She thought that it was quite peculiar. Considering that she would not by any means be thought of as a standard American beauty. She was just a Philly girl. A smart girl, but a fat girl. And one that had been through such a god-awful divorce that she knew there was an entire population of men she would never date again. In her quest for new found glory, she tried to immerse herself in pop-cultural indulgences such as café mochas, designer shoes, handbags, and fragrances since she couldn't quite fit into clothes she longed to be in. She was jealous of the pale, yet fashionable mannequins that stood chicly in the shops on South Street. She passed those stores by with great contempt, and stopped in Soho, the gift shop. Here she could get that pink wig she promised herself she would wear to the Diabolique fetish ball this November if she got the nerve. 

She knew that if she only tried a bit to mingle in the scene, she would find someone again. She simply had to, but was her pickiness that kept her at bay. What was she supposed to do? Bria was 32, and without any prospects whatsoever. Although she had recently lost some weight, she was still a "biggun," as her ex would tease. She learned to get around this by being thankful she never grew a second or third chin, and that her breasts were prominent enough to give an illusion of a waistline. One that had gone from a 29 to god knows what. She had always been a curvy girl, but had been burgeoning on the edge of morbid obesity in all her sorrow. As she moved about in Soho, looking for silver rings that would style rather nicely on her chubby soft fingers, she tells people who aren't really that close to her, "excuse me" so that she has enough room to fit down the narrow path leading to the glass case that houses all the steal-worthy items. 

"I'll take that one," she tells the petite woman who looks at her suspiciously. Bria, feeling paranoid as usual, is not sure she is getting this look from the woman because she is black, or if it's because she is fat. It makes her uneasy as she watches the rings in the display case. The clerk reaches for a snake-like ring that has a black jewel for an eye instead of the ring Bria points out. "No, not that one," she says, "that one. Yeah. That's it."

The clerk walked the ring to the front counter. There, Bria sees a darling little velvet and rhinestones collar with the word "PRINCESS," in the center. 

"I'll take that too. Plus the pink wig," she tells another woman behind the cash register, and then reaches for her credit card. She also takes out her license because she knows the clerk, who has seen her in here before, is going to ask her for her identification. Bria hands her the card only, and in what sounded to Bria like a Southeast Asian accent, the clerk said, "ID." She didn't say please, which irritated Bria. However she obediently handed her license over to the woman, and waited as she charged her card.

"Thank you," Bria said as he took her receipt and belongings and headed back to her car. She was lucky to find a spot on 4th Street between South and Bainbridge, which is practically a miracle in the late afternoon. Now she would go back home, and sink into the world she had grown to become comfortably wrapped up in the middle of: her Internet world. 

PART II

Bria kicked off her open-toed sandals as she entered her living room, and dropped her bags on the floor. Sweat slithered down the sides of her face as she tried to catch her breath from walking the 14 steps to her front door. Her happenings were routine, and teetering on the edge of OCD behavior. In fact, it was. She described things in her childhood that her former therapist attributed to a posttraumatic stressful event. This supposedly explained her rush to sex, specifically her oral fixation that drew her to long thick shafts that contrasted against her full greedy mouth.

She settled in her messy dressing room that housed her PC, Vanity, and a shit load of clothes. Most she could no longer wear, but she held on to them anyway. It was if her fat was unrelenting, and it was a continuous battle for her. She had a bizarre self-image. She berated herself, but only wore the finest foundation and lipstick MAC could offer. Her mother always told her that she had the most beautiful face. So she believed that one positive message. Everything else managed to slip through the cracks. She settled in her swivel armchair, lit a joint, and looked at the pictures on her wall and bookshelf that represented a happier time in her life. It was a time when she was energetic and involved. Now she had become an isolationist although she would never admit that fact. In her cyber world, she was safe, and here she was a princess, and to some, a real beauty. 

Initially she couldn't believe the attention that she got from the men online. There were older wealthy men from the Main Line who spoke of unhappy marriages and how they needed a "kitten to spoil." There were the braggadocio types who claimed to be at every happening party that Paper-Street held, and other popular weekly drink fests were only the beautiful Philadelphians played. There were groups and chat rooms for every quirk, perk, or syndrome one can imagine. There were men who called themselves FAs or "Fat Admirers" who wanted to make her fatter. She immediately cast them aside, and put them in the I-might-be-crazy-but-you're-a-freaking-weirdo file. Her most peculiar admirers she thought were the handsome young white men who couldn't get enough of her on web cam, or photos of her breasts and backside. She was the reluctant whore, but enjoyed what felt like a sense of control over the rosy-cheeked boys who dated women much younger, and whose bodies were more taut and supple. Yet the young men unabashedly chased her. She knew that they weren't serious, but it was fun. She teased the 19 and 20-year-old online fans, and became more open to actually meeting 21 through 29 year olds, she had never actually met anyone in person. Now it was about time she changed that. It was perfect that she stumbled into Dustin. He was 26, enigmatic, and a wanna-be rock star from Center City Philadelphia.

"Is that really you on your web page?" he asked in random instant message.

"Who r u?" she replied while feeling insulted he didn't believe it was her.

"Nobody," he responded. "But you're gorgeous. What's your name? How old are you, and when can I "cum" over?! Lol"

She laughed back at his banter because it was simply ridiculous that he would suggest something like that without even knowing her name.

"What's your name?" she asked. "I am Bria."

"Wow, a lovely name for a lovely girl. I am Dustin, and I am 26."

"Oh, um thank you."

"Why oh? How old are you?"

She hesitated but began to type. "I'm 32"

"Ooooh an older woman, how nice. You certainly don't look 32. I mean, don't you like younger men?"

"Well I can't imagine what you want with me," she said.

"Oh," he responded, "there are many things to want from a beauty like you. Your skin is so supple. Do you have any more pics?"

"Maybe, but you never sent me your pic. Do you even have one?"

"I most certainly do," he responded, and typed "BRB" to indicate that he would be right back with something for her. 

As Dustin sent photos to his new potential lay, Bria sent hers including two head to toe shots to show her fatness in case he had grand delusions. She opened the mail he sent and her slow-as-hell 56k modem connection caused a heightened sense of anxiety. The first reveal of this male beauty was a thick curly mass of chestnut-colored hair. It happened to be her favorite kind to run her fingers through. Her heart quickened its pace. The strong form of his face now appeared with the most striking and bright green eyes she had ever seen. His smile was delicious and sinister, yet she immediately felt at ease. The download finally completed, and her doubts instantly set in. 

He appeared tall and looked wonderfully masculine. The kind of man she would melt over. The photo was taken on a basketball court and he was shirtless in the center of two other men who were also very attractive. They were nothing like Dustin. He had a wonderful wickedness in his eye that increased her disbelief in him actually wanting her. 

"You can't' possibly be interested in me. Look, don't mock me." she said with rage in her heart. "Some of us don't have it like you okay, one of the desired people of the world. You don't need the Internet to meet women! Why are you doing this?" She felt tears welling up.

"You are one of the desired people Bria." He said. 

"No I'm not." She typed back and paused. She was feeling picked upon. But he continued.

"Bria?"

"Yes?"

"You have the most beautiful breasts I've ever seen. Feed them to me.

Bria wasn't sure how to respond. She felt a rush of excitement not recently had by her. 

"Stop," she said. "I don't know you. Stop talking to me like that!"

"You're right. I apologize Bria, do forgive me."

Bria felt her mind being screwed royally. She thought it was another sly ploy from some horny dude who had no regard for who she was. But then what was he to think with a girl whose screen name was BrownSugaa. So, she digressed. 

"Okay" she said. "Well would you like another photo?"

To her chagrin, he said no. She wasn't expecting that.

"Why not," she asked desperately even though there was no way for him to gauge her urgency.

"Because I've seen enough. I know I want you."

And just like that, Bria found herself smitten.

So it began. It started with simple hellos and goodbyes. They shared more photos. They moved on to more revealing chats and discovered their uncanny commonality. He was a musician who had been in a grungy cover band specializing in Incubus (one of her favorite groups) and STP songs. He broke from the group to play his original music, and was struggling to do so. She talked of her love of the ocean and hoped to find a new job after grad school. He found her sexy and alluring. She found him wonderfully dominant and sincere. They took their talks to the phone, and fell deeply for the other's voice, always ending the discussions with his creamy release all about his torso. The one she envisioned licking someday. While online one day, he brought up the idea of meeting soon. She said no and refused to see him after a gig he had at Ortlieb's Jazz Haus, and he didn't understand.

"I can't do that," she said.

"Why not Bria?"

"I just can't"

"What, are you really a guy or married or something?"

"Fuck you Dustin! CLICK!" and she blocked him. Stunned, he immediately called her mobile phone, and reluctantly she answered.

"Hello?"

"Bria. Why did you block me?"

"I can't believe you would think I was a guy," she said. "After all this time, how could you say that to me?

"I'm sorry baby," he pleaded. "But I don't understand why we can't meet. I mean it's been four months. Its getting cold, and I need your warmth."

"I know," she said.

"Then meet me. Come down Tuesday night and see me play. Hear me strum my guitar for you."

"I can't D. I mean, you're not going to like me. How could you? This Internet thing is one thing. Talking on the phone is cool too but..."

"But what? Aren't you the one always telling me you want a lover? You want me to be your lover. Meet me Bria."

"Oh Dustin," she cooed.

"Let me see that sweet mouth in person. Let me see the sway of your hips, and the bounce of your bosom."

She giggled at his advances. "Dustin. Stop. You know I can't take you."

"Yes baby," he said with great confidence. "Yes you can and you will. Tuesday I'll be there all night. Meet me Bria. Be a good girl."

PART III

His watch said 11:49, and the smoke rising from the ashtrays burned his eyes. His break was almost up, and his third shot of Jack Daniels was beginning to take effect. Where was she?

Bria drove down 3rd Street past Market then over Spring Garden heading to the blue building of the funky little jazz joint where her "D" awaited. She couldn't believe she was doing it. She smoked three bowls, and was stoned out of her mind, increasing her anxiety and paranoia. She felt foolish and increasingly weirded out. Her belly was in knots as she pulled into a parking space that was only moments away from Ortlieb's doorstep. She could hear the last set starting as she checked her lipstick for the ninth time in 20 minutes. She inhaled a deep breath and stepped into the club not knowing what to expect.

A girl on a stool greeted her and asked for five dollars as Bria's eyes moved about the room hoping to find the boy she lusted after. She was impressed with the crowed. It seemed rather mixed with a relaxed atmosphere. She found a seat at the elongated bar and looked toward the small stage, and saw a figure that could only be Dustin. His hair had grown longer than the photo, and his six foot two frame even more commanding as his head hung low while he plucked his guitar with passion she could feel in her panties. Her nervousness got the best of her. She ordered an Absolute and cranberry, and tried to focus on her fella. She sipped her drink so fast and hard that she got a brain freeze. She signaled the barmaid for another, and considered moving into one of the empty tables closer to the stage. She got up to do just that when Dustin's solo ended. The audience roared with approval that made him stand tall and smile that beautiful smile around the smoky club. His glassy eyes became fixed on the brown girl at the end of the bar. Bria could feel his gaze, and she immediately turned away and headed for the door.

"Bria!" he yelled and ran off stage following her.

"Bria!" he called again as he ran toward her before she opened the car door. "Where are you going?"

"I'm sorry Dustin," she said. "I don't know what I'm doing. I'm sorry. You are just too overwhelming. You're...you are so beautiful"

"And so are you," he said taking her breath away as he pinned her up against the car, fondling her breasts, and grabbing her round bottom. His hot tongue slithered into her parted mouth and Bria let him sink into her deeply and matter-of-factly. 

"You're mine Bria," he said.

"I know, " she replied. And their love affair began.



The Reluctant Admiral



"الامر الماضي للنظر؛ وكالة الاستخبارات في مسألة لديها القائد الجديد الله أكبر". "

(""It's the last to consider; intelligence agency in question has a new leader Allahu Akbar.")

*

It is both a sad time and happy as 10,000 plus Sailors and Marines, men and women, sail towards home aboard the several ships of a U.S. Navy Carrier Battle Group.'

A few hundred miles distant, for safety separation, a similar Strike Group, The USS John F. Kennedy was headed into the War Zone of the Middle East.

Those are my floating thoughts as I make final reports from Combat Intelligence to The Executive officer aboard my flat-top, the USS Eisenhower, (Ike) to every one who had ever served aboard her. Ships are called, 'her' or 'she' and you damned well better respect the Lady or she'll dump you overboard in a second.

I had eight women and six men working in my tiny but effective unit; eight hour shifts of four personnel each, with two as fill-ins, but during intense operations we ran 12/12 and I was on duty for 16 to 18 hours at a time. It is my job and these were my people and I love all of it.

The entire ship felt different as she pointed her nose to the West and stood down from the constant alerts, launching and recovering aircraft.

There is a continual alert status, exciting and dangerous on deck, even more so than serving on a Nuclear sub. We are Nuclear powered too, but I never notice it or even think about it.

I would notice and choke up when my crew departed for other duties, as would I. Not the first time, but I never got used to leaving people I had spent months with and would most likely never see again.

Ninety days, give or take, I would be training a new crew for another deployment in about six months.

The hand-off of duty was basically complete but the training and the exercises kept the crew alert and ready at all times.

The ten days or so it takes for the ship to return to the Eastern Seaboard of the USA passed rather quickly as I tried to guess from previous assignments, what ship I would be aboard next.

Daily briefings with the Exec.' were not out of the ordinary; business as usual as I was called to the Flight Bridge for a get together.

"Hi, Jeff, ready for some shore duty for a while?"

I saluted, being informal with superior officers was not my thing but I did open a smile and take the hand that was offered. "Rather be at sea, Sir; those shore bound sailors get under my skin."

"Heh, yeah, I know. Jeff, once again your performance report is first class, top of the line, but the overall fitness report has that same criticism it always has. You don't mix with the officers and their wives when you are ashore and you are never seen in the 'O' Club or making friends among the powerful. Why is that always the case; going back as far as your first duties?"

This was by no means the first time I had heard that. I stared at my shiny black polished shoes and shuffled my feet, "Sorry, Sir, I am not good at small talk, I don't play cards and I always take online courses when I am at sea, and ashore, classes every day, I just can't find time to party."

The Exec shook his head, "I know, a good answer and an honest one but it makes you come across as a loner, not one of the group, the peers you serve with and this man's war is not for cowboys."

He reached into a desk drawer and brought out several yellow envelopes of different sizes. "This is most unusual; you have orders and travel plans. We are just about in range for one of our two engine prop jobs to get you to the Base in time for a flight. It is all there in the orders, but 'eyes only' so even I don't know what is going on or why. I would guess you have about an hour, Jeff, sorry to see you go this way."

With that, he rose and extended a hand and that was the end of the meeting. 

I was taken aback by the departure from procedure. What could it mean?

Less than an hour later I was rushed topside to the flight deck, given a heavy flight jacket and hustled across the deck to a C-2A Greyhound with its twin props turning; The envelopes inside a water proof briefcase was all I carried aboard. The mystery got larger.

This particular aircraft is a bare minimum comfort for passengers, canvas bucket seats and a belt strap. Cargo and Mail for the crew were more important.

It has been a while, years, since I have flown, but this was entirely different, being catapulted off the carrier deck from zero speed to 120 miles an hour in like a second or so. I never get seasick or even nauseous, but if I was ever going to, it would be now.

The unsmiling Pilot and Co-Pilot glanced back into the cabin without smiling and turned away, back to their controls. I am the only passenger; odds and ends of cargo and several mailbags surrounded me.

The flight was not pleasant; clouds all the way, chilly at best in the cabin and bumpy, with severe downdrafts and then a roller coaster ride up again. Teenagers might like the thrills but this thirty four year old did not.

There was no announcement that we were descending but my ears told me and the tilt of the aircraft confirmed it. Sure enough, although I could not see much, the heavy 'thumpitybump' of a fairly hard landing told me I had arrived, somewhere.

A Shore Patrol, young sailor on each arm, I was hurried across the runway to another plane that had its engines running. A fancy small passenger jet; again I was the only passenger, not even any baggage to ride with.

The flight was less than 30 minutes; I could feel the plane dropping down, but visibility was nil, as before. The aircraft landed at a remote part of the runway system but there was a shuttle bus waiting and again, I am the only passenger.

'Proceed to nearest exit near United terminal and wait outside the main entrance. On the same envelope there is an address. Was someone assigned to pick me up, or am I left on my own?

All this hurry up and wait...twenty minutes feeling the chill and watching the drizzle, a cab driver must have taken pity on me.

"Hey? Your ride not show up? I got free time, where ya goin'?"' 

I looked all around hoping for some clue but there was nothing

The cab started moving slowly away from the terminal; the driver looked through the rearview mirror and then tuned to me, "So, like, where do ya wanna go?"

I handed him the envelope with the address typed on it.

"I'll be damned! A Spook! Never would have guessed it with those off the farm out of style clothes you got on. Thought I could always spot youse guys, CIA at Langley, here we come; hope you got the right ID, buddy, they're tough!"

CIA? Me? That' has to be a mistake or someone pulling a joke. Me, CIA? No possible way.

The driver said about twenty miles...almost forty minutes according to my watch. I got out, stood up and reached into my money clip when a Guard at the gate walked up.

"Captain Paine, Sir?

"Yes, that would be me, so...?

"Your transportation from

Dulles got messed up somehow, Sir, I will pay the cab fare and I am to escort you directly to Personnel."

First time here, first time near the seat of government. The CIA entrance impressed me; the many hurrying people said confusion to me. But it wasn't; all crisp and business like.

I know I am getting special attention in the Personnel department; they seemed lined up waiting for me each step of the way through my checking in and the security clearance, badges, pin on cards. A half hour later I left with a single yellow envelope clasped, not sealed.

I was tempted to look inside.

Instead, the many halls, doors, escalators, stairs and painted lines to follow kept my attention.

Under an inconspicuous sign, through huge glass doors what hissed themselves open, I cautiously walked into the Surveillance and Analysis Section.

"Captain Paine..." The receptionist glanced up, took the envelope and pointed. 'Deputy Director, S&A, CIA, Admiral S.A Clemens.'

A more modest glass door, the kind you couldn't see through, little prism looking inserts turned everything opaque.

I walked into a narrow office of women working at desks all pointed away from me, I thought, 'Admiral Clemens? sounds familiar.'

The same glance up and back to work from each office worker as I passed by, except one, who looked up and smiled with twinkling eyes. A warm, welcoming smile behind wide light blue eyes, light hair and a pastel blue dress. Dress?

I felt warmth on my face and nodded slightly in her direction. At the head of the classroom a stern faced grey haired woman stood and extended a hand.

"You are late, Captain, the Admiral will see you now."

She nodded towards another door of polished wood as the receptionist from outside handed her the envelope I had surrendered.

"Give this to the Admiral."

I saluted with my cover in hand as the grey haired Admiral in civilian clothes stood, walked around the desk and extended his hand.

A firm grip and the eyes were waiting when I peered into them. I knew those eyes..."Sir, from Intelligence School, a few years back? I have your book, the bible of the Intel community!"

His eyes sparkled as his face showed light embarrassment. "Don't tell the girls, no one has ever mentioned that work before."

"I have read through it a dozen times, it is what I turn to, to remind me of the basics and the foundation for our work, Sir."

He smiled as he turned back to his chair at the desk. "You might just be the first ever, that is one desert dry read, but, thank you."

"No, thank you, Sir; it is a privilege to meet you."

The soft smile left his face. "You might not think so, son, as we get into why you are here."

"Ah, that was going to be my first question, Sir, just why am I here?"

'Take a seat, Captain, this is going to take a while."

Outside the classroom I had never sat in an Admirals presence before and I was uncertain now. He noticed.

"Take a seat, Captain, and relax. No one salutes me anymore and especially when I am out of Uniform; please sit and talk with this tired old man."

I did as he asked while he pushed a button on the desk. "Jessy, dear, I forgot, we need fresh coffee, please."

"Yes. Sir." A light, respectful female voice came from all corners of the office.

"It took me three months to latch onto you, Captain, ah, well, Admiral, this job requires more Rank than you carry."

He turned to a bookshelf and then back with a small white envelope that read, 

'United States Senate.' Insignia for Rear Admiral, two grades above Captain. I wonder what was on my face as I looked him in the eyes again.

A light chuckle preceded his words, "I thought that might open your eyes, Admiral, you will be sitting in this chair when you are ready."

I shook my head. "There has to be a mistake, Sir, I have limited service and all aboard ship. I don't know the first thing about this Agency or your job."

"You will learn, or I should say, you can learn. I didn't pick your name out of a trash bin, you are candidate number sixteen for this job. All the others turned it down."

We talked on and on, through lunch that was brought in to us, and into the afternoon.

I can't describe how I felt after that conversation. Managing a failing division in an Agency with a bad reputation that no one wanted to control or serve in. My management skills are with a few dozen at most. S&A when fully staffed was almost twelve hundred people. I am in way over my head and I know it, but, the alternative, as I had been passed over for Promotion before, would be nothing but make-work to fill out my twenty years of service.

My career in the Navy, my whole life, was over, insofar as how I had wanted it to be.

"There are Bachelor Officers Quarters on the grounds, or off base housing if you want, or you can take over my old cave."

We had walked only a few minutes away from his office, along a back hall, down a stairway into a dead end and a door. He opened it to reveal more luxurious quarter's than I had ever seen, aside from my father's estate, my off duty home.

It was also a top secret security area which he reminded me of as he showed me the banks of computer screens off the main living area.

"If you get buried in work, the cafeteria will deliver meals at any hour of the day or night. Ah, 'Admiral', is there anything else I can do for you?"

"Get me a change of orders, Sir; I am just not qualified for this job, your job."

"Well, I think you are and I am certain you won't disappoint me. Get settled and come see me in the morning."

"Yes, Sir." I saluted again, even though he was not in uniform, I still respected who the man was and what he had done for me.

His quarters, my quarters now, were more than comfortable. The kitchen was compact, everything necessary to cook, if one wanted, within arms reach, ample cabinet space above and below. Two full bath facilities, one near the work area; and a well stocked library, smoking room?

The Admiral smoked cigarettes and cigars. He had moved our area of conversation out of his office into a specially vented and air conditioned room where he lit up and invited me to join him. I did. At that point in our conversation, I wanted the smoke in my lungs, I wanted the familiar sensation of holding and tasting. Things that brought me back to reality in the midst of this nightmare scenario for me.

I took my dress Uniform jacket off, loosened the tie and collapsed into a recliner before a very large flat screen television set.

I didn't watch television for entertainment or pastime; twenty four hours news when I was ashore, nothing else.

I am restless, uncertain, almost bewildered at the change of events and the task before me. For the first time in my life, adolescence included, I felt unequal to the job at hand and I do not like the feeling. I had always been able to do everything with ease while others struggled. Now I felt fear. I don't like this feeling either.

A firm knock at the door and my baggage and new uniforms arrived. Line officer, Rear Admiral, O9, my father, also an Admiral, would finally be proud of me...were he still...I sighed at my losses, both parents in a runway collision at an unnamed airport in Bosnia.

They were both quietly disappointed that I had not taken the 'command route', working towards eventual command of a fighting vessel, as my father and his father had done. It just didn't work out that way.

The insignia and collar pins were already in place on the new Uniforms. I was restless, tried out the shower, the new clothing fit. I decided it was time to wander through my new command, such as it was.



The Reluctant Admiral, Four



*** Four ***

من هو المسؤول؟ معرفة! يفعل شيئا أن يشكل تهديدا الله يكون معك؟"

(Who is responsible? Find out! Do something that poses a threat God be with you!)

JCS, DOD, FBI, Admiral Paine, who and why? Ts sitrep

-

"You had a little excitement the other evening, eh, Paine?"

My eyes went wide and I know I blushed.

"Someone took a shot at you, didn't they, did something else happen?"

I tried to recover. "Yes, Admiral Clemens, I discovered I was being followed and under surveillance myself, found out I had a driver assigned and right away some bullets fired. What is behind all this? Why do I need a driver and a guard?"

"The protection is standard procedure, I don't know, son, there is an investigation, I have private feelers out, maybe something will turn up. We have another outing for you this Saturday evening, big time affair, lot of brass, lobbyists, more DC people and many young ladies all waiting for a shot as the most eligible 

bachelor making the rounds."

I felt my shoulders slump all by themselves. The last party was painful and forgettable.

"I may have an idea to keep you from being torn apart by the anxious ladies in waiting...we need to fix you up with a date, someone to escort you, hang on your arm, keep the hungry vixen at bay."

" don't know anyone, Sir, aside from my driver and she's well, not the type, I think."

"How about Annie? She's attractive, shows well and is devoted to you?"

"Annie? She works for me, I can't have her on my arm, it would be wrong."

"Employer, employee, oh, I think she would understand, what say we ask her?

Before I could object, he had pressed a button and called Annie to the office.

I stood there tongue tied and dumbledorfed as Admiral Clemens explained.

"We need to have Tom out there, 

before his peers, but he needs a way 

to avoid the dilettantes that buzz 

around.

"Well, Admirals, this girl has nothing to wear to such a classy event, not even close."

"Then you'll do it?" Admiral Clemens was quick on the draw.

"Well, some clothes to wear and if Admiral Paine wants me to accompany him?"

It all got settled somehow and I later heard the five thousand dollars worth of party dresses and accessories was paid for by the CIA S&A division. At least that was first class, at least I think so.

I had noticed cattiness and envy among others during my naval career, but never was I at the center of any of it.

Annie handled it as if she had been doing it all 

her life. She swept into the ballroom of the mansion and virtually took over the place, guiding me expertly through the traps and obstacles but making sure the service men I needed to meet were at hand with a moment or so before the onslaught caught up with us. I sense it is a fine game for Annie who seems to greatly enjoy herself. Talking, daintily sipping, eating and gossiping right up therewith the best of them. I even began to enjoy the event with her at my side.

The shooting incident was the main topic of conversation; I wondered how the word spread so fast, so far. I escaped the girls and Annie with a group of young servicemen in uniform smoking on a veranda overlooking a well tended garden area.

"Sir, you probably don't want to be seen with us, smoking is not approved and we, well, must attend but are not functional."

I lit the unfiltered Pall Mall long and inhaled. What do you mean, 'not functional', what are your assignments?"

Momentary confusion as the young men milled around until a Navy Lieutenant stepped forward and guided me towards a secluded area on the veranda.

"Sir, Lieutenant Hobson, SecNav, ah, middle management I guess you could call my job, flunky to the upper echelon, a least with this administration in power."

"I'm not sure...no, I just don't get what you mean, Hobson, can you be more clear?"

The young man, a good looking boy, took my eyes and changed the balance on his feet and shoulders. "You, Sir, are an unknown factor. If you are part of the Administration, my Naval career is done.

"I, we, don't have all the information, but you are in Command of a division within the CIA?"

"Not by choice, but, yes, Surveillance and Analysis is my assignment."

"Not by choice, Sir?"

I feel like I am on the verge of understanding something that I hadn't even formed a question for. How much could I, should I expose?

"I went to a nightclub a while back; I wanted to relax, have a few drinks, eat something other than cafeteria food and soak up some sounds. I discovered, the hard way, that I was being recorded, audio, visual and still pictures taken of me. It all came as a mystery to me. I have not yet taken command of the Division, just learning the procedures. Why would anyone be interested in me? 

"Lieutenant, are you recording this conversation, does someone have a camera on me?"

"Sure as hell not, Sir! That is near what we are curious about. You were not put in place by the White House? You don't have an agenda to support whatever they want?"

I would have tried to answer, even to better understand it all, but Annie moved quickly to my side, motioned me to dump the cigarette and hustled me towards the entrance to the veranda.

"Hobson, Sir, Secretary of the Navy office, please mention my name to Admiral Clemens, Sir, thank you."

We moved into a group of high ranking officers and their ladies moving towards the open air veranda. As they passed though the doorway, several ladies began to fan their noses and look angry.

Annie moved into action, "I'm sorry, Ma'am, this is a designated smoking area, here, let me show a better place for fresh air, and it has a much better view."

She did her thing of smiling and touching shoulders and doing 'girl speak' I guess, and it seemed to work. Smiles all about as Annie led them away with a glance back at me to stay put. I shook my head with a wry smile on my lips; I am being handled managed, guided and led in about every way possible. Am I really that naïve and backwards?

Annie returned shortly, but she had Jenny, my driver, in tow. 

I offered up a puzzled grin. "Here for some dancing?"

"No, Sir, message from the Admiral, he asks that I return to you based asap, so here I am."

"So, here you are. Can't say I am disappointed, although Annie is having a good time."

"Am not! I hate all this phony crap!"

Jenny did her thing of handing us into the back of the Black Limo and fastening us in. I could barely hear the engine running, but I felt it when she started it up.

"So, Ms. Jensen, you didn't enjoy the evening? I would have bet otherwise."

"Crap! Double Crap! Came from the driver's seat. What chance in hell is there that three black suv's decided to leave the same time we do?" She pulled out into the street but kept glancing through the rear view and side mirrors every few seconds. "Computer...camera ahead, license plate, focus, take and save..."

"I really apologize, Sir, Ma'am, but you need to get on the floor and belt in. I got some padding and blankets for the Admiral, but I didn't plan for two. It is going to be close and friendly for you, but I ain't getting shot at again! Once burned, twice shy.

"Alley cat, Alley cat, boot up Charlie, execute on my mark, coordinates 32 by 123, gimme a rog...?"

Two audible clicks came over the speakers, "Hold 

on back there...Alley cat, execute in five, four, three...two.....execute!"

With that, the limo screeched sideways and came completely around roaring in the opposite direction. "There was one tailing us!" Jessy hissed as she extended her left hand and middle finger towards the passing traffic.

Jennie drove it hard, pressing the yellow lights, cutting off to a side street when a red appeared. 

She continually punched keys and buttons on the middle console.

"On station, intersect, in three minutes...mark, thirty seconds mark, roger?"

"Alley cat two, roger...Alley cat three, roger...:"

"Make me a sandwich, guys..."

Before I could ask...

"That means two leads, three follows and we are in the middle, standard, but not always the best move..."

"You smell good, really good."

"You have your nose in my hair, silly, of course you can smell it."

"Ah, I didn't plan this, you know."

"I wouldn't put it past you, Admiral, anything to feel up a girl."

I had to laugh out loud, "Not me, I plead innocent, Annie, besides that, it's not all that comfortable."

"Speak for yourself.." she giggled as she snuggled almost on top of me rather than the hard flooring in the back.

"Alley cats, head for the barn..."

"What, no detour this time?"

"Didn't get shot at, just pissed me off, who are these fuckers anyway?"

"Jenny, slow down a little. Annie, where do you live?"

"Oh, I drive home from work, Sir, no problem."

"Home is..."

"I share an apartment with two girls; it's expensive anywhere near DC."

"I imagine so, Annie, if they are gunning for me, you are in danger too, and I can't leave you out in the cold."

"I don't know what you mean, Sir, that's where I live."

"Not anymore. Jenny, call the Admiral, have him arrange quarters for Annie, near the work space and tell him, now, we are on the way in."

"Yes, Sir, ah, Admiral, might you ask Annie about this first?"

"Annie, I will ask for patrols around your apartment for the other girls until it is known that you aren't there any more. Is that good with you?"

"Admiral, do you think we could get up now?"

"Jenny?"

"Yeah, go ahead, get back in your seats, but use the belts, okay?"

"Yes, mommy, we will. Annie?"

"Do you thnk I am really at risk, really?"

"Yes, I do. You know as much as I do about the operation of S&A, and if is information they want, we both have it. So, yes, I think you need protection. But...I guess I can't order you to move on Base..."

"Anything you say is like an order, Sir, you made that clear when you hired me. I love my job, I am happy working for you, it is all so important and crucial, it seems."

"Ahm, so?"

"Sir, I am twenty sixe years old and single because I can never make up my mind. I will do what you want me to do, but, Sir, can I get in the Navy so you could just order me what to do?"

I had to pause and consider that. "Yes, you could, I could probably make you a Captain, but, then, you work for the Navy, not me. They could send you anywhere at any time and I would have no influence."

"Oh."

"Annie, I think you should move on base and stay with the Admiral, he needs you; he really does."

"Okay, I guess. What about all my things, and the girls, we share the rent and stuff?"

"Jenny, can I talk to the Admiral from back here?"

"Yes, Sir, let me get him on line."

"Annie, I feel like I have bulldozed you into this, I will understand if you change your mind. I am concerned about your safety; I don't understand just what is going on, but I believe now that I have to be alert and so do you."

Annie looked around, at me, away from me, at her shoes, "Jenny, you never say anything, right? This car isn't bugged is it?"

I could hear the blush in Jenny's voice, yes, everything is video taped, even me, so they have a record of what goes on."

"Can you shut it off?"

"No..."

Jenny slowed the car handed back a cloth and pointed. "Whisper..."

It took a while to fine the tiny aperture for the camera's two of them, one pointed to each side of the back seat.

I blocked them off and nodded with my finger to my lips.

Annie unbuckled and scooted across, unbuckled me and climbed onto my lap and buckled us both in.

"I felt protected when we were huddled together 

on the floor. I never really felt that way before, dependent on someone else. I like the feeling. Working close with you, on call all the time, would make me feel the same, I think. Am I making any sense to you?"

No, she wasn't, but I am not going to say that. Even as a boy I was responsible for myself in all things..."I don't know how to answer than, Jenny, I guess, as your employer, I am responsible for you, but, you kinda went above and beyond a normal job by all this dressing up and showing off stuff, so, I will do everything I can to make certain you are safe and protected twenty four hours a day...is that okay?"

She took her time, rearranging herself on my lap, purposely letting her lips drag across my cheek as she whispered in my ear.

"Yes, I am such a baby, I know, but, it all became very real there on the floor, bouncing all over the place, thinking maybe we would be shot at any time." She slipped her arms behind my back and squeezed, snuggled her head on my chest and sighed. "If I say anymore you might fire me..."

"Yes, Sir, I want her on base and her roommates under our protection for as long as necessary. And, would you send a crew to collect Ms. Bjorn's belongings, please, tonight, she is shook up enough as it is, having her own things around might make it easier."

I listened, nodded and said, yes, okay, and yes Sir, before hanging up.

"All arranged, Annie, thank you Jenny, let's get back."

amicus



The Reluctant Admiral, Three



*** Three ***

"ويقال انه willnot يدم طويلا، والذهاب مع الله، ما من chinces

("It is said he will not last long, Go with God. What of the Chinese?")

. 

'You have to, Thomas, get used to it."

"But, Admiral, surely..."

"Nope, no way out, everything we want to do will dry up, no cooperation, that's how the body politic works. Now, how bad can it be, dancing with lovely young debutantes, sipping fine Champagne and rubbing shoulders with the rich and famous and the DC crowd as well?"

"I think it is a terrible idea, Sir; I have only begun to go through the personnel files."

"You have been eighteen hours a day for two weeks on those files. What do you do, sleep in your new office?"

"I told you it would go badly, I told you."

"It didn't go bad at all, Admiral, they loved you! The trip, the Senator's wife on your lap, the drink on the Joint Chief's daughter; it all made you look adorably naïve and not a threat in any way; exactly what we wanted."

"Sir, I don't now how to explain, I don't do things I can't do well. I will not embarrass myself that way again, I am sorry, but no!"

Stalemate.

I dug out some old civilian clothes, called a Taxi Cab and headed for a Jazz club I found on line. Quiet, classic music, a few drinks, something to eat, relax, lay back and..what the hell! A girl in my lap?

"Hey, honey, that buzz cut says you are military, big boy Marine, are you?"

I might have said something, but she placed a finger on my lips and her lips in my ear. "Go with it, Sir, you are being watched."

'Watched', I thought, "Watched, watched, what do you mean?"

Big smile, kiss on the cheek, "This is a bug, range about a mile."

She took it out from under the lapel on my jacket.

"There are two more, one on each side of your head. There is a silver beebee in your drink, I put it there when you went to the head. It could be poison."

She put her hand around the bottom of my jaw, "Don't look; that couple across near the door, in the booth, they have been taking your picture for a while. You and I, me, the hooker, will look nice on the Admiral's desk, doncha think?"

"Who are you'? It wasn't a nice voice I used.

"Sir, I am your assigned driver and body guard, you should not use public transportation, you should not be here without protection."

I am rendered speechless for the moment; a driver, a body guard, for me, why, what for? It made no sense; none.

"Why?" I finally took a close look at my 'hooker' protector. A pretty woman, sharp facial features, light skin, dark hair, small body...bodyguard, this little thing?

"Sir, your rank and your job put you on the watch list of every Intel outfit from every country that has one and they all have someone. A little druggy in your drink, a little ride, a little truth serum or pliers to pull your toenails and they know everything you know. You should never go to the same place twice. They had this place wired when I got here. They know who you are and what you are, an easy target, naïve and untrained. Easy money."

I sighed out loud; I knew I had lost whatever battle was just fought. 'What now?"

'Oh, you can stay, enjoy the music, they have a good rubbed steak here, the music is not my taste, but..."

"My night of relaxation just went down the drain; I'll get a Taxi back."

"The Taxi driver that brought you here is in custody and being interrogated. He, like I, have been assigned to you."

"Crap!"

"You believe me, now, I think?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"Not if you want to live in this jungle. You have enemies."

"In less than a month, I have enemies?"

"I'm just your driver and guard, they don't tell me anything except to protect you and be on call if you want to go somewhere. They should have told you and introduced us before this. Slip up somewhere."

"I shook my head and frowned, "Home, James.."

"That would be, Jenny, Sir, and, yes, sir, home it is."

We had only gone several blocks, "Splat!" A little noise by my left ear, the one near the window in the back seat of the armored black Limousine. I turned my head; she turned hers, "Splat, Splat!" Two stars appeared on the windshield right in front of her driver's position.

"Down, down, down, get down! There are belts on the floor, hook up and stay down!"

I felt the g force of a sharp turn as she stomped the accelerator and off we went on a classic Hollywood car chase, well, I could hear and feel, but not see as the car careened one way then the next, slowed and sped up, turned and circled tightly then took off again.

'Alley cat two and three, taking fire, coordinates in bravo twelve, changed direction to east, will advise."

"Roger, Alley cat, Alpha is executed, hang tight."

"There are three vehicles, standard placement for this class protection. I think you just got a warning, light caliber shells, no chance of penetration or damage..."

"What the hell?"

"Are you strapped in? I should have shown you that. practiced it a few times, sorry."

"Not your fault, the drive shaft bump is a pain..."

"Yeah, but you're alive..."

"This is Alley cat, pick up at Charlie sixteen, resume..."

The rest of the convoy answered and soon we were back in good order and proceeding back to Langley.

"Ten sixty one and a half, or so, guys..."

A double, roger, okay...as we pulled into a garage and I watched the door close behind the car.

She was quickly out of the car, around the side, took me in hand and pulled me inside as she locked the door, put her arms around my neck and climbed my frame.

I was dumbfounded but my body knew what to do and we were on the floor grappling and clinging then on a bed with clothes falling away and cries and screams and grunts and... I just got laid.

She rested on my chest as her breathing slowed.

I could barely gasp it out, "What the hell was that all about? I mean, I'm not complaining, I don't think, but, what..."

'After action horny heat..."

"After action?'

"Yeah, threat of death, survival sex drive cuts in, the libido takes over. They explained it all in training camp."

"Oh, first time for you?"

She laughed, "It should be, but we had a bad day in training camp, one guy hurt bad, almost lost two more, my buddy and I, well, it just happened..."

"How do you feel about it, us being strangers and the like?"

"Feel about it? I'm good. And I feel a hell of a lot better than I did, damn, I just really did not expect that on our first trip."

"If I get this kind of treatment every time we ride together, I may need a lot of transportation..."

"Heh, not likely, Sir, but nice try."

I was teasing and flirting; there haven't been many women in my life and never with the intensity of what just happened, and, hell, damn, spit, I don't even know her name!



The Reluctant Admiral, Two



*** Two ***

"لقد تم التعيين، فمن لأية نتيجة، الله أكبر!"

("appointment has been made, it is of no consequence, God is Great!")

~

"Information copy to Dod, Nsc, COS, JCS, Potus, Agency S&A appt confirmed, status nil."

Two uniformed and armed guards stood at the working entrance to the S&A facility. 

Both looked up at me, neither rose. Thay had a board game with markers in a wooden holder they seemed to be concentrating on.

"Write yourselves up for failing to acknowledge a superior officer on duty."

"But, Sir, we are civilians...?

"Then you are both relieved of duty, advise your supervisor."

'We don't take orders from the Military, just buzz off sailor boy!"

I saw red, I imagine my face did too as I stepped quickly forward and clamped a hand around each throat and squeezed until both guards slumped on the floor.

Jesus Christ almighty, why did I do that? I never lose my temper, I am too big, I could hurt someone. I had no idea, but I dialed 911 with the phone on the desk. Thirty seconds later flashing red and blue lights and armed men descended upon the scene.

"This 'sailor boy' demands immediate obedience to any Order I give. Is that understood?" 

The two men stayed on their knees glaring at me.

Admiral Clemens, in civilian clothes arrived a few moments later.

"In trouble already, Admiral?"

"No, sir, some personnel changes, the security is a little lax at the entrance."

"I see. Got it taken care of?"

"No, sir, I am in training, I have no authority."

I couldn't quite read the expression on his face, but the nodded and turned to the milling group of law enforcement and guards. 

The door buzzed loudly as I entered the work space of Surveillance and Analysis. I began a slow walk through and around the huge space that contained hundreds of computer work desks with dozens of raised platforms overlooking.

A centralized platform attracted my attention; I made my way to it and up, stopped by a clear glass door that didn't open at my attempt.

A young naval officer in work uniform arrived wide eyed at the door and opened it. "Had I know you were inspecting Sir, I would have..."

"Stand down, Lieutenant, at ease, I am just doing a recognition pass through."

"Very well, Sir, can I explain or show..."

"I want to just look, see if I can get a grasp on how this operation functions. May I interrupt you if I have a question?"

"Certainly, sir, mainly what I do is observe and make notations if necessary."

I nodded and started a slow three sixty, ten degrees at a time surveil of the entire work area.

When I arrived back at the starting point, I concentrated on what appeared to be the areas with the most active screens and operators before them.

I pointed, "Middle East War Zone?"

"Yes, sir."

I watched, quietly for another half hour or so. "It seems calm and under control, Lieutenant?"

The young man, mid twenties, let an uncensored look slip across his face before he got it under control. "Yes, sir, calm as in nothing happening and no work being done."

I blinked as I tried to digest what he was really saying. I took a few long moments.

"You may speak freely, Lieutenant, if you have something to say." That was unwritten code for whistleblowers and we both knew it.

"Sir, Lieutenant David Jansen. Class of '03, and this is, as Tommy Lee Jones put it, a class A clusterfuck, a triple dog dare fucking clusterfuck, if I may, Sir!"

"I think we should talk, Lieutenant Jansen; when would be good for you?"

"Anytime, Sir, I really need to get this off my chest, it keeps me up at night, I can't sleep."

"We'll talk soon, I don't know enough yet to even ask the right questions, but I will. Thank you."

"Yes, Sir!"

I took my time for another hour, walking by and looking, asking the occasional question of several operators in the building.

"I hear he beat a guard almost to death!"

"Is that the new CO, Christ, he looks mean!"

"Why is he snooping around so much, Admiral Clemens never did that, not this way, looking over your shoulder; I don't like him at all."

I heard the buzz as I walked, not the words, but I could guess.

There are new guards at the entrance I came through, in uniform and they saluted smartly. I returned the salutes without a smile and crisply walked towards the main office.

The same perky girl smiled, the rest barely glanced.

"May I have your attention for a moment, please?" The click clack of computer keys ceased and it was silent.

"I am going to require a personal staff and replacements for most of you as I understand you have requested transfer, is that correct?"

The out-going pretty girl stood and came to my side, "Sir, I would like to volunteer for your Staff; I think I could be of help to you in the selection of others, if I may?"

I smiled and nodded, "If there are any who wish to remain when Admiral Clemens leaves, please come see me in his office."

As I turned to leave two of the older women rose and indicated they wanted to stay. I directed them to the office manager I met earlier.

I waggled my finger at the pretty girl, "Come with me."

The office manager gave me a strange look as the three women followed. "These ladies have asked to keep their jobs here, and I need to see the Admiral, please.?"

The Admiral stood, "Hah, helluva first day, Admiral! The scuttlebutts are hot and heavy. What can I do for you?"

"Sir, I apologize, but I find the work space to be a garbage pit. It smells like a dumpster and looks like one. Food wrappers, drink containers, trash, trash cans full, trash on the floor, workers with their feet on the counters, talking laughing joking, like a party, not a job. I, Sir, how could this be? I know you would not tolerate the conditions or the general attitude."

The door opened without an announcement and the office manage came storming in.

"Admiral Clemens was on sick leave for two months, s stroke, almost took his life. You will not speak to him in those terms ever again or I will take the entire office staff and leave you with nothing! Do you damned well understand me?"

With that, she turned and stormed out of the room without a backwards glance.

'Uh, ah, I am Annie Bjorn, Sir, ah, Admiral, it is not his fault, no one's fault, the high mucky mucks in the Director's office would not appoint a second in command so no one was in charge of the facility for months. They don't like us much after the Abu Graib incident, even though we had nothing to do with it."

"Settle down, please." Admiral Clemens sat back in his chair looking worn and tired. "I did not realize it had deteriorated that badly. I am truly sorry for the mess, Tom, I have been barely holding on until I could find my replacement."

"No, my apologies, Sir, I did not know you had been ill, please forgive my tone, I would retract it if I may?"

"Not necessary, son, but you will have an even bigger job than I thought and I regret that. Annie, is it, why are you in my office?"

"I am considering this young lady as a member of my Staff, and I ask for your advice and recommendations, Sir."

"Hmmm, Ms. Bjorn is quite new to the Agency, less than a year I believe, and she came to us from outside, she didn't work her way up on the floor as most of the office people do. But I have heard nothing but good things about her. Stella, Mrs. Jacobs would be able to tell you more accurately."

I nodded, "Thank you, sir. Ms. Bjorn, there are some things you must know. I have manly worked with military personnel under my command. I give orders, they take them. You are a civilian?"

"Ah, sir, I can take orders, but I don't shine shoes or make coffee, I mean, well, I've never been asked to do those things..."

"And...your clothing is unacceptable in my work place. No cleavage, no short dresses, no noticeable scent or jewelry, this is a work environment, not a place to find a husband. Your demeanor towards we is not appropriate and will cease immediately if you want to work for me."

I watched her face change color, her lips compress and her jaw muscles contract. She took a moment to gather herself.

"Most of the office girls are drones; they care nothing for the work and nothing for the agency. I am here because I want to be here, working at the CIA, I wanted FBI, but this opened up first.

"I am who I am, Admiral and if that does not suit you, I withdraw my application. I was not flirting with you, Sir...you would know it if I were. I was trying to welcome you and be a friend as I know what you are in for.

"Take me or leave me, but do it one way or the other, no between crap!"

I blinked, tilted my head and smiled. "I think you'll do; tell the office manager, ah, Mrs. Ahm, Jacobs, to promote you two pay grades effective immediately. She can replace you in a timely fashion?"

"There is no real work being done, Sir, any of the office girls can do my job without any special training. I just take what they do and collate it, then send it to Mrs. Jacobs."

I nodded several times...ah Admiral, is there extra office space..."

He pulled himself to his feet with a hand on the desk but offered a huge smile. "This may be the one bright spot in this whole damned day, please..."

He led Annie and I through a door, down a hall, down a floor and another hall, then opened an unmarked door.

"Oh, my Gosh!" gasped Annie.

A large room filled with two half circles of state of the art touch screen computers and flat screens. A quick sweep took in supervisory areas, rest areas, and precise layouts of all workspaces. Far better than anything I had ever used aboard ship.

"You did this?"

I turned toward Admiral Clemens and his proud smiles. "Right under their noses, they don't know it's here. And...totally secure triple copper mesh, electrical outlets filtered and shielded, not a single radio wave can get in or go out from here. A dead zone for cell phones, bugs, wire tracking, all of it."

He took Annie by her arm and led her deeper into the space. "The current office space is not secure, your new people will work in here and there is another adjacent office for your personal Staff, Admiral, I hope it suits you."

It did. It all did, he did a marvelous technical job. Now I had to make use of it.



The Reluctant Bride



Somewhere, probably while I was still in high school, I decided I wanted to be rich. Would be rich. Life would be better with money. And then later, at some time, I figured out that the way to riches was through stocks or bonds. People in that business all have money. The fact that I was poor and had no knowledge of stocks and bonds was no deterrent. To get there I needed a college education so I worked my way through with all sorts of jobs. Being poor and working at minor jobs isn't as bad as it could be. 

For some reason, I was very successful with women. All the work left me in good physical shape and my pursuit of a good fuck was about as powerful as my pursuit of an education. Late in high school a girl and I discovered sex together and then went on to fuck as often as we could manage to find a time and place. In college, I managed to find a girl and pick up where I left off in high school. After her there were a couple more. I made a mistake and had a one night stand once but otherwise I always had relatively long term relationships. And I think that's the better way to do it. Both of you get used to one another and what each of you like and there's very little phony impressing one another or wondering what to do next. I mean you just get to sex right away and do it in the ways that you both like.

I also read everything I could about the brokerage business. Or businesses, really, there are a lot of variations and possibilities. Upon graduation, I applied for work at a number of firms. I ended up moving to Los Angeles, where I was offered a job at a brokerage as an assistant to a fairly young guy that had been an assistant himself a few years earlier. It was exactly what I wanted. The whole idea was that I was his flunky. I would do all his time consuming work, leaving him free to deal more and make more money. As he succeeded, I succeeded and also made more money. A fraction of his but still something. The idea, which he understood completely because he had done it, was that as I learned more I would eventually go out on my own with my own clients and then get an assistant of my own, and so on.

So, here I was, with a small, inexpensive, furnished apartment in L.A., purposely on a bus line so that I could get down town to the office easily. And cheaply. I would become rich some day but in the beginning I was at the bottom of the totem pole. Since the stock market is in New York on Eastern time, we start very early in L.A. on Pacific time. I got to work at 5 am. Of course, I was done early, too. It's just a normal work day skewed several hours early. The buses don't run often at that hour so it was important that I catch the one I needed. For me, that meant getting to the bus stop five or ten minutes ahead of time in order to be sure. 

The very first day there are two of us there. A girl and me. Like most guys, I can't help looking girls over. I have no intentions of ever getting to know her better or anything like that but, still, I look her over. She's actually sort of cute. Dark hair, dark eyes. Nice features. Looks European for some reason. Sort of small. Maybe 5'2" in height, trim body. She's a waitress, I think. What she's wearing looks like a waitress outfit. It's practical and not flattering. It hides her instead of showing her off. She also seems shy. Or maybe afraid. She doesn't run away but she backs off a couple steps as if she's concerned about me. And looks down or away but I can tell, she's checking me out. I think she's wondering if I'm going to attack her.

Well, we both ride the bus. She gets off just one stop before me. Going to work, I imagine. Going to be serving breakfast. The next morning she's there again. The third morning I smile at her and say, "I guess we're going to be riding this bus at the same time a lot. I'm Tom."

I don't try and shake her hand or touch her in any way, just want to ease her fears. She hesitates but finally gives a faint, sort of polite, smile and softly answers, "Jean."

Each morning, it's, "Hi, Jean," and a quiet answer and little smile, "Tom."

It's probably the seventh or eighth day, the second week anyway, that she actually moves across and sits next to me. "You go to work early," she asks, "What do you do?"

So I tell her and then ask her where she works. "The Regal," she says. I know of it. A coffee shop kind of place. Pretty busy because the food is relatively inexpensive and decent.

After that, we ride next to one another every day for the fifteen minutes or so that we share the bus. Gradually we learn more about each other. She find outs where I work, where I'm from, where I went to school, and that I hope to make good money but haven't have much yet. I learn that she graduated from high school less than a year earlier and lives with her parents, is attending night classes at the local community college. I also begin to learn that, while her parents met and married here, they were both immigrants from Romania. Her mother brought a dowry to the marriage, which was arranged by her parents and hers. Apparently Jean's Dad is the absolute boss of the family. Jean's older sister is married, all arranged by her Father and her in-laws.


The more we talk, the more I realize she isn't happy with her family at all. She says her mother is essentially her father's slave. Her mother has no voice in anything and spends her life servicing her husband's needs. She also is fairly sure her brother is going to end up just like her father. But she absolutely isn't going to end up like her mother. In the meantime, though, living at home she has to do as is expected of her. She has never dated a guy. Had accepted a date in high school but had been forbidden to go out with someone from a different religion and without her father's approval. I think she knows that some day she either has to break with her father or give in, there's no in between possible. And she isn't ready to break yet. Isn't ready to throw over the only life she's ever known.

Meantime, my life is going fine. The few minutes on the bus in the morning are a very small footnote to everything else. My work is going well. I'm starting to make more money. I'm meeting people, joining a few organizations, starting to have a normal social life.

My boss suggested that Young Republican parties are a good place to meet people so I go to one. It's in a hotel and there must be several hundred people there. I see the most desirable female ever, a tall blonde, slim, beautiful ass. Sort of like the actress Cameron Diaz but about ten years younger. I ask her to dance. Fortunately, I don't suffer from fright or embarrassment around women. She agrees, it's slow so we get to hold one another fairly close as we shuffle around. We both make some comments about the crowd and then it's over and I ask if I can get her a drink. She agrees.

"What'll you have?"

"I don't know, what are you drinking?"

"I haven't started yet, probably beer."

"That's fine. Light."

We're standing at the bar. She doesn't use the glass, just puts the bottle to her lips and drinks a little. We finally introduce ourselves. She's Rachel. I tell her about working for a stock broker and how early I start. She tells me that she's a personal trainer, works for a gym, helps put people through their exercises. Which lets me say, "That explains your gorgeous body. Rachel, you're the best looking woman in the place," She grins and leans to me and gives me a quick peck on the lips.

"Thanks. I know it's B.S. but it's always nice to hear."

"No, I really mean it. I guess I can B.S, like most people, but in this case, I'm being honest. There's something about you. I was attracted the moment I saw you. You're just, I don't know how else to says this, desirable. The most desirable woman here." She grins at me and I notice her hand is lightly around the beer bottle but sliding up and down a little. Somewhere I remember hearing that's a sign of sexual interest, perhaps like masturbating the bottle.

"You're pretty scrumptious yourself, Tom. Why don't we dance again," she says. It's another slow number. I can't help myself. Seeing her and holding her close turns me on and I get an erection. She's bound to feel it. She pulls me a little closer up against her and leans her upper body back slightly to say something to me, which pushes her hips even more against my erection. 'I guess you do like me," she says with a big, dirty grin. It makes me realize that most likely she's here for the same reason I am, to get laid. So I slide my hand up her back to pull her closer and lean to her and get my lips to hers and start a real kiss. A serious kiss. She kisses back and I slide my hand down onto that lovely, round butt that I noticed early on. It lasts a while as we grind against one another. "Where do you live, Tom?" she asks as our kiss breaks apart.

I tell her and also say that it's just a ten minute bus ride. She comments that if I have to get up so early then maybe I should get home early and then offers to drive me there. When we get there, there's actually a parking space almost in front of the building and once she's got her car in, I suggest that maybe she'd like to come up. She does.

Here I am with this real California blonde beach girl, a surfer. I can hardly believe it and tell her so as I kiss her. She rubs up against me and, to cut through all the fooling around, we end up naked in the bedroom. She's even more desirable naked. Perfect body, slim and lithe. Through everything, she can hardly let go of my cock so it's no surprise that when we're finally naked, she's got me in her mouth. "I can hardly believe it," I tell her, "my dream goddess with the perfect body is a terrific cock sucker, seems to really like it."

She looks up at me, slides her mouth off for a moment and with a grin says, "Doesn't like it, loves it," and immediately swallows me again. She really works at it and it doesn't take long and I shoot off into her mouth. She never loses a drop. Then she slides up over me to kiss again, telling me, "You have a delicious cock, Tom." Then another kiss and, "Your turn." So I start on her body. As I suck on a nipple, she says, "My breasts aren't big enough, I've thought about getting implants."

I move my lips from her nipple long enough to tell her that her breasts are terrific. And they are. Not DDs but very full Bs, more than a handful each. On her body, larger ones would look wrong. A minute later I've worked my way down to that lovely pussy. She's a real blonde. Her pubic area, her lips, are pink and look soft, sort of puffy almost. I get my tongue into her and do everything I've learned, licking all around and sucking on her clit as it grows and then getting a couple fingers into her. It's a sexy vagina, firm and not mushy, and even her clit seems almost like a little erection rather than the soft worm-like shape that I've run into before. I feel as she did earlier with me, more than like it, I love it. She's not quiet. No huge yelling but lots of moans and "oh fucks". And she's active. Her bottom is bouncing around so much it's difficult to keep working on her. And those long legs darn near smother me as they tighten around my head when she cums. And cums. I suck up everything I can. 

I get up over her and slowly push my way into her. She's really fit. A vagina that's as tight and firm as the rest of her body. And she loves sex. I wasn't a virgin and neither was she and we proved it to one another. I've never seen legs spread open so wide before, never before had long legs wrapped around me that could lift me and almost toss me around until I could hardly keep my cock into her. Flexible, almost double jointed. And strong.

It was definitely the best sex of my life and I tell her so. I feel very lucky to be with someone that's essentially sort of a dream girl and I tell her that, too. She lets me know that I'm o.k., too, and we start over and do it all again. The second time I take longer to cum and she almost devours me, slurping and sucking and almost biting. She does love it, I guess. But once I get my mouth to her sticky, swollen, pussy full of my cum, she cums even sooner than the first time. She ends up staying through the night. I tell her how I have to leave really early for work and she wants me to wake her so we can go at it one more time and then she'll have time to get to her place and get cleaned up before she has to go to work a couple hours later.

So what seems like only a few minutes later when my alarm goes off, that's what we do. She climbs on me and uses my hard-on to masturbate herself for a minute then sits on me and takes me up into her and fucks the hell out of me. I'm going to be sore. Once we both cum, I say that I need a shower and she joins me there. I wouldn't think it was possible but washing that naked body with my bare hands gets me aroused and I pound into her standing up against the tile wall. She tells me how good it all was. I realize that I'd probably had more sex in the last few hours than I'd ever had before in the same length of time and tell her so. She just grins and asks if I was complaining and when I say "no" she suggests that maybe she could train me into shape to do even more.

I kiss her goodbye as she gets into her car at the curb across from the bus stop. She drives off and I cross the street. Jean is already there.

"A girl friend, huh?" she says with a grin. 

"Well, yeah, sort of. I mean, nothing serious, we just met last night."

"And she spent the night?"

I look at her. Where is this going? "Yeah."

"You meet her and she sleeps with you, has sex with you, right away. That same night?"

"Well, yeah." The bus pulls up and we get on, show our passes, and go to a seat. She has me sit next to the window because she gets off first.

"I'm just surprised, that's all. Having sex like that, right away, that's pretty promiscuous. For you, too, not just her. Are you planning to see her again?"

"I don't know. Yeah, probably. I mean, things went pretty well between us."

"You enjoyed yourself?"

"Uh, well, yeah, I did."

"Did she?"

"Well, you'd have to ask her. She sure seemed to. I mean, having orgasms must be considered enjoying yourself. And she didn't leave, she stayed for more."

With that she sort of glares at me, crosses her arms in front of her and is quiet, a grumpy look on her face, until she gets off without saying anything.

The next day, as soon as I show up, she touches my arm. "I'm sorry, Tom, it's none of my business your having a girl over for the night. I apologize. I guess I'm just from a different culture or something. Sex only goes with marriage and isn't done casually. But that's my problem and I shouldn't take it out on you."

"That's o.k., Jean. I understood right away. I'm not a virgin. And the girl I was with the other night isn't one, either. I haven't been with a whole lot of girls but some. I was raised sort of the same way as you. I felt really guilty the first time. It was the girl's first time, too. I think we both felt guilty. But we liked it so much we did it more. A lot, in fact. Sex is just very, very good. There are a lot of virgins that wait. Maybe they're right and I'm wrong. But once you experience it, you can't stop. At least, I can't. And I think most can't." The bus pulls up and we get on.

"I think that's why parents and churches tell you not to have sex until you're married," I tell her after we're seated. "Because once you do it, you love it and you're not going to stop. So it's probably good for society for people to connect all those great, sexy feelings with being married and making babies and all that."

"That's not what I've heard," she answers, looking at me. "My mother had a talk with me and pretty much says it's what a woman has to do, it's part of being married and having a secure home. But it's a chore. And my sister feels the same way, I've heard them talk. I don't think they enjoy sex at all. So maybe that girl was just pretending in order to try and hook you, get you to marry her."

"Well, I can't be sure but if she was pretending she's awfully good at it because I think she really liked it a lot."

She looks at me for a moment, opens her mouth to say something, then stops, Turns away, looks back, then seems to think. And then we're at her stop and she says, "See ya" and gets off.

The next couple of mornings we pretty much talked about innocuous things, the weather, our work. Then one morning she brought up women having sex again. "She must be a whore," she says.

"A whore? Who?"

"That girl that spent the night with you. You claim she must have enjoyed it. Good girls don't enjoy it, only whores. So she must be a whore."

I almost laugh. "Jean, you're so wrong. Good girls enjoy sex, too. If anything, it's whores who don't. They do it to earn a buck not because they want. to."

"Well, I still can't believe it. From what I know, good women don't enjoy sex."

Without thinking, I reply, "Jean, I can prove it to you. Get naked with me and if you'll let me, I'll make you feel so good you'll never forget it. You'll love it."

"I'd never do that!" she exclaims and, since we were at her stop, gets up and leaves the bus. I only ride on a minute or so but decide I've just goofed. I should never have said that. She'll think even more that I'm some sex pervert or something.

The next few days were again innocuous on our commute together. She never brings the subject up. Then she does. "Have you ever dated that girl that spent the night at your place again?"

Well, I had, so I tell her so. "Yes, in fact she called me. She's been back to my place twice. She hasn't spent the night so you haven't seen her in the morning. Unless she's changed her mind, she's coming back today after she finishes work." What I didn't tell her because she wouldn't believe it, is that Rachel loves sex and always wants more, just about wearing me out. Not that I'm complaining. Sex with a goddess is probably more than I deserve.

"Been to your place. Does that mean you had sex again?"

"Yes. Often."

"And she called you. She initiated these meetings?"

"Yes."

"You better watch out, Tom. She's not a good person and you don't want her to get her hooks into you."

I smiled. Jean actually is right to some extent. Rachel, the girl in question, actually isn't a bad person. Meaning she doesn't rob banks. She's actually very smart and friendly and easy to get along with. She's also very free sexually. Has told me about other guys. Fairly many, I think. So if Jean means her kind of good girl that would be her idea of an ideal wife, Rachel probably doesn't fit the bill. But she sure fills my bill, is the best I've ever run across. Trouble is, I'm fairly sure that Rachel sees me only as a fuck buddy and not a husband. And if she ever does decide to become a wife, she would probably make a good one for the right guy (me?). I mean, she's gorgeous and loves sex. What more could a guy want? "I'll make sure she doesn't, Jean," is all I could think of to say.

So, for a couple days, my morning commute conversations with Jean are fairly innocuous. But she must have kept thinking about Rachel and me and my saying that Rachel enjoyed the sex. Because out of the blue, one morning Jean surprised me.

"Well, you must be good at it. Maybe I should take you up on your offer."

"Good at what? What offer?"

"Sex. Having sex with girls. Once you told me that if I would get naked with you that you'd make me feel so good that I'd never forget it. I would love it."

"Yeah but I also said only if you would let me. You never would. And you'd be right. You're a nice person. You should be a virgin for your husband. But he should be a husband that you want to be a virgin for."

"Well I agree with that. My father has started making remarks that make me think he may be thinking of arranging a marriage for me and I don't want that." And with that, we're at her stop.




The Reluctant Bride



After a couple days of minor conversation , Jean meets me at the bus stop rather upset. "My Dad definitely is planning on arranging a marriage for me. I told him that I'd move out and live on my own before ending up with some old man that he found."

Once on the bus she says, "You have sex with anyone you want. The girls you go with have sex with anyone they want. You all enjoy sex. Girls at school talk about sex all the time. They all enjoy sex. But my Mom and my sister don't. I can't end up like them."

"I don't know exactly how a woman can do it," I answer her, "but somehow they've got to get their man to make love to them. There are guys who just roll over, shove it in and when they're done, roll off. Wham, bam, thank you ma'am, is the old saying. From my experience, women take longer to get aroused than men. If a guy will just take a little time, have some foreplay, get the girl aroused, then they'll both enjoy it. He'll enjoy it a lot more if she enjoys it. Too many guys essentially rape their wives and rape is never enjoyable. For either party. So somehow, you've got to make sure your man treats you right, teach him how if you have to."

"Well, I think maybe I better find someone I'm willing to marry and beat my Dad to the punch." With that, she's up and off the bus.

It must have been a week later when I was wakened by someone knocking on my door. It wasn't all that late. Because I get up early, I go to bed early. So it was just after ten pm. I look out the peep hole and it was Jean, so I open the door.

"Jean, what brought you here?"

"Can I come in?" she asks and I move out of the way and she comes in. I close the door after her. She has a small suitcase. "I had an argument with my Dad and told him I'm moving out. I didn't know where else to go. If I can spend the night here, I'll find a place tomorrow."

"Well, sure. There's not much room but we can work it out."

"I should have asked first, are you alone?"

I grin. "Yes. I don't have a girl here every night. So you're not interrupting anything." She smiled, too. Talking sex with her is getting easier. I'm a bachelor in a one bedroom, furnished apartment. I don't have much but fortunately I had two pillows and could give her one and had an extra set of sheets. She spent the night on the couch.

The next day, she calls me at work and says she'd found a room downtown, near where she works. She had also talked to her Dad on the phone. He wasn't budging but neither was she. I sort of miss having someone to talk to during the morning commute.

Two weeks go by. Rachel and I have sex frequently. It's becoming a habit. A great habit. I get a call from Jean, she wants to come by my apartment after work and I agree. When she arrives, she asks me for something I wasn't sure I could provide.

"Tom, you know what a man and woman do with each other to have sex. I don't know. You said when the time came, I should teach my husband but I can't teach him if I don't know. So I want you to show me, to do with me everything a man and woman do with each other, so I'll know."

"Jean, I don't think you know what you're asking."

"Yes I do. I have to learn and you can teach me."

"You said one time that you wanted to be a virgin for your husband. If we do everything, you won't be."

"Oh, well, then we do everything but that. Everything but you pushing your penis into me far enough to break my hymen."

"I don't feel right about this. I don't want to do something that you'll regret later. I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't hurt me. You said I'd love it. I have to learn. Please?"

"Why now? What brought this on?"

"O.k., my Dad says he has to arrange a marriage for me. He won't budge. I finally get him to bend a little, though. I finally convinced him that he can only arrange a marriage with someone that I agree to marry. So he's found a guy. The son of casual friends. I've known Frank for years. He's a nice boy. He's smart. He's graduating from college this semester. He's nice enough looking. We haven't dated but everything considered, I don't think I can do better. And he seems willing. I've arranged to meet him and talk about this. This isn't allowed but neither of us like this business of arranging the marriage so he's willing to meet me. I plan on bringing up the subject of sex. If everything goes well, maybe we'll go ahead and have sex. So I have to know how so I can make sure he learns how to make me happy. Now maybe we won't but I sort of hope we do. And I suspect, from things he's said, that he does too. So I have to learn about it now."

I gave a sigh, an exhale, I think she's right. "O.k.,we can do this. Now, let's see, how should we go about this. Normally, everything starts with the couple kissing and feeling around and working their way on. Reaching under clothes and unzipping and all that can be very sexy. Removing clothes and revealing parts of the body can be arousing. We could start there. But I think I should really leave that up to the two of you, to move at whatever pace you want. I don't think you need to be taught that. So, what we should do is go in the bedroom and take our clothes off. If I first show you what you want to end up doing, either you can figure out how to get there on your own or we can move back and start at the beginning later. But probably, you need to know what you're aiming at." So I take her hand and lead her into the bedroom. I start taking off my clothes. So she does, too. I'm down to my boxers and she still has on her bra and panties. I step out of my boxers. She looks at me. "Naked," I say. "Completely naked." She takes them off.

She really has a lovely body. Slim waist, plenty of breast for her size, at least B cups, maybe C, nice firm butt, shapely legs, that same attractive face. "Jean, you have a gorgeous body," I say. "Nothing to hide at all. You can be proud to show it off to your husband." I lead her over to the bed. "We need to both lay down." She does and I lay next to her, facing her. "On your side,"I say, "facing me."

I slide one arm under her, put the other around her and hold her against me and get my face to hers. "We kiss," I say. "We probably kiss a lot." As we kiss, I run my hands over her back, onto her butt, feeling her body. She kisses very well. I lean onto her, rolling her onto her back and continue to kiss her but move my hands to her breasts. She jerks a little as if she's ticklish. "I'm going to do things to you first," I tell her, "to get you aroused. Later, you're going to do things to me. In your case, with your fiancé, you may do it the other way around but I think this is the way to start." I kiss her cheeks, her neck. I have my hands busy on her breasts. I kiss on her shoulders, down between her breasts. Then on her breasts. I caress her breasts with both hands, get her nipples between my fingers and tweak them a little, still kissing her. I replace one hand with my mouth and suck on her nipple. She's making little noises, sort of moans.

While I lick and suck her breasts, I move one hand down between her legs. "Spread your legs just a little, to give me room," I tell her, "act as if you want me there." I get my mouth back to her breast, then move to the other one. Eventually I kiss down onto her stomach, her abdomen. I kiss down one thigh but by now I have a finger sliding in her vaginal lips. Her moans are louder. I kiss across her thigh to the inside, forcing her legs apart more. Then I kiss the other thigh, moving up to her vagina with my kisses. She has a lot of dark, stiff pubic hair, we'll have to trim that. Her legs are well spread now. I put my hands on her thighs and lift them some, up towards her torso, opening her pussy more. Then I get my tongue to her and lick up and down in her slit.

I feast on her as much as I can. I tongue fuck her vagina, lick everything from her asshole to her clit. I lick her clit, suck her clit, get two fingers up in her and finger fuck her while I work on her clit until she starts screaming and I can feel her putting out fluid. She probably doesn't even know it but her hands are on my head, pushing me into her, holding me to her.

I slide up over her, between her spread legs, and reach down with one hand to aim my cock into her. I push it between her lips until the head is inside her and then stop. "If this was for real, I'd push on into you. Right now, you want me to, don't you?"

"Tom, I don't know what I want. This is the craziest feeling ever. I do love it. And I want everything that you can do."

"Well, I'm stopping here. You're still a virgin and we'll leave you that way."

I pull back and lift up and over to the side. She rolls to face me. We kiss. She has her arms around me, holding me. I take one arm, slide down to her hand, and move it down between us. "Touch me, hold me. Feel an erect penis. A cock. The thing that should be inside you right now."

We kiss some more and I caress her breasts, put a hand on her butt and feel it. Her hand is holding my cock, feeling it, "Jean, you should be aroused by now. If you had felt my penis inside you, you'd never forget it. You'd love that cock. You'd want to get at it. So now, you need to do me. Show me that you want my body the way I just showed you that I wanted yours. Do everything you feel like. And if you don't feel like it, do it any way, fake it."

She grins and then rolls on top of me, sitting up straddling my stomach. She leans down and kisses me, sliding her butt back as she does. She continues to kiss me as her pussy rides across my cock, pushing it down. Then she starts kissing my shoulder, sliding back further, allowing my cock to leap free. As she kisses my chest, her one hand grasps my cock and begins sliding on it. She kisses down across my stomach, sliding back even further, onto my legs. And then she surprises me, damn near swallowing my cock. I mean, not just kissing it or licking it but putting her lips over it and taking it into the back of her mouth. Her head starts bobbing up and down, sucking on me. 

I had almost fucked her a minute or so earlier. My cock is ready to perform and I can feel my balls getting ready. "When I cum, just swallow it. Keep sucking me. Love it. Take it like that's what you wanted." And then I spew into her and she does take it. Just keeps sucking on me, bobbing her head up and down, swallowing and swallowing and sucking every last drop out of me. Then she sits up and looks at me with a big grin on her face.

"Jean, you're a great cock sucker. How did you know what to do?"

"It's all on the internet," she says as she lays back down on top of me and kisses me. I hold her ass with both hands.

We kiss a lot and I feel her a lot. "Do you like this? Was I right?"

"Tom, this is perfect. We're just starting, though, aren't we?"

And we were. I took her into the bathroom and explained that all her hair gets in the way of my eating her and we need to trim it. Not get rid of it, just trim it. So, she sat on the edge of the toilet with the wastebasket between her legs and I sat on the floor and brought the scissors to her and cut off about half her hair. As I did it, I fingered her quite a bit, arousing her again, then slid the wastebasket out of the way and got my mouth to her and licked and sucked until she had another orgasm. Then we showered and she sucked me off while we were still in the tub.

Back on the bed I did everything I could think of to every part of her body. I must have kissed and licked and even chewed a little on her for a half hour or more. Then I got my cock aimed into her again, pushing just the head into her. I could hardly bring myself not to push on in and I know she would have accepted it, she was so hot by then. But I didn't. By the time we were done, she must have been sore. She almost attacked me, giving my cock as good a workout as if it had gone into her and declared she loved the taste of my sperm. With that, we were both pretty much sated and after a little more fooling around and loads of thanks from her, she left. The whole original idea was to let her know what it was all about but leave her a virgin and we did that.

Between less sex than I preferred with Jean, and almost more than I can handle with Rachel, I'll absolutely take Rachel . I called her to arrange to have some normal sex again, even though I knew she'd be almost insatiable and would totally drain me.

Three days later I have a call from Jean. She wants me to come by the restaurant where she works when I get off work so she can tell me what happened with her and her arranged-husband-to-be. So I go by. She has finished her work also and leads me to a booth far in the back where we wouldn't be interrupted.

"Tom, everything was fantastic," she tells me. "I went to his tiny apartment and at first we just talked. We both agreed that this whole arranged marriage thing is out of date but we're both sort of stuck with our families and their beliefs. I hinted at his being o.k. to me, someone I could be with. He more than hinted and said of all the girls he's known, he'd prefer me by far. So we both seemed happy about that. Frank's sort of shy, I think, and I knew he might never get around to sex. So I did. I said that, to me, good sex was important in a marriage. I even told him that sex isn't good for some wives, the husbands don't make love they just rape them. He actually reinforced what I was saying, that he felt it was important the husband and wife had good sex."

"I told him that I was a virgin, that no penis had entered me and broke my hymen, and asked him what his sex life was like. He looked embarrassed but admitted that his was all fantasy, no real experience with a girl. Everyone he had ever had an interest in didn't meet his family's requirements so he'd never dated. I told him that my history was the same. But then I suggested that before we married, we should try to gain some experience with one another. So we started kissing and hugging and it went very well. For someone with no experience, he kisses terrific and he certainly seemed interested in feeling me."

"I was getting so aroused that I suggested maybe we could go a little further, maybe take our clothes off so we could get at each other better. He was certainly willing. So we ended up naked. He seemed to honestly be impressed with my body and I know I was with his. His cock looked huge to me. So we both told each other how much we liked each other. And then we were kissing and feeling our naked bodies. I figured I had to make the first move so I said that I loved his cock and the feel of it and girls had told me how much they liked sucking their boyfriend's cock and could I try that? So I did. He didn't last long at all and just as you had me do, I swallowed everything. Then we're kissing again and I'm about to try and get him to go down on me when he suggested that he'd like to do the same for me and I admitted that I'd like that. Well, he may not have your experience but he sure did everything right. I helped aim him around a little but I didn't last long either before I orgasmed."

"Then we're laying there kissing and feeling one another and I tell him that if he wants to marry me, he can show me by getting his cock into me and that I'd show him I would marry him by letting him. So he did. You were right, Tom, feeling his cock inside me, moving in me, filling me up, was unbelievable. I mean it hurt really bad for a moment but then got unbelievably good. Well, we did it again a little later. For all I know, I might be pregnant. Which would be fine with me. And we've both told our parents that we're ready and want to get married as soon as possible, so we've already had our first banns at church. And I go back to his apartment every evening. So thank you, Tom, all of this would never have happened if I hadn't met you." And she kisses me. Then she surprises me.

"Tom, once I'm married, I'll stay true to my wedding vows. But you never really got to fuck me, although we did everything else. And I'll never know what it's like to fuck another guy. So, what I really want is to go back to your place with you now and fuck. Fuck over and over. And then we'll never do it again. Ever. Can we?"

Well, we do. I was right, once she experienced good sex she loved it. And she made up for my not getting my cock into her the first time by doing everything she could to get me hard over and over. For whatever her reasons, she definitely had some sex to remember. Interesting to me, though, is that I kept thinking that this isn't as good as when I'm with Rachel. I didn't say that to Jean, of course, but it made me think. Anyway, Jean was going to Frank when she left my place, so I don't know how she accounted for the condition of her pussy after three of my loads in her and her vagina sort of sore from my cock pounding into her so much. But I guess she explained it somehow because they got married.

Rachel is something different, though. For her, sex involves perspiration. Oh, she likes sex clean, all right. The first time I was with her, we both had a couple orgasms, well, four each I think, then slept together. We woke up to my alarm and she used my erection to masturbate herself for a moment and then sat on me and fucked me until we both came. Then I went to take a shower before work and she joined me and as we washed one another we both got aroused and I ended up really pounding into her, standing up, pressing her against the tile wall, while the warm water kept running on us. She told me how much she loved it.

But mostly, sex with her gets very physical and very sweaty. She works for a gym, as I said earlier, is a personal trainer, helps people through workouts. Which explains her body. A real hard body. I've had sex with a couple girls that love to orgasm but then it's over. Once is all they can take. Not Rachel. I'm not sure I could ever give her as much as she'd like to have.

So, this time we're laying there all hot and sticking to one another a little. I'd already put two loads into her and as her stuff and mine leaked back out it got on us and on the sheets and then back on to all parts of us as we rolled around. She gets more turned on by each orgasm. I'm now soft for a while until I can get it up again but she's hornier than ever and scoots around to get her pussy to my face, letting me know she needs some action. So I try and suck her whole, red, swollen, sticky, gamy tasting pussy into my mouth and lick it and then start gumming her clit. Almost chewing on it with my lips made firm by my teeth behind them. She finally cums again for I don't know , the umpteenth time. Then she swivels around a little and gets my soft, sticky cock into her mouth and sucks on it, trying to get blood into it so it'll be stiff enough to get inside her again. And she succeeds.

So my cock is into her tight, warm insides, getting what amounts to a massage, as she bounces around under me, darn nearing knocking me off the bed. I've unloaded everything I had into her before so I'm probably going to last forever -- well, a while, anyway. I'm wondering how I ever lucked out to be able to be with this perfect female with the great body that loves sex so much. It's like a dream come true. Rachel is not only physically active during sex but also very verbal. Not loud yelling, just lots of grunts and moans and noises as well as "harder", "faster", "yes", "It's so lovely", and many "fucks", "oh, fucks". I was used to that but now she surprises me. She grins up at me and blurts out, in bits and pieces between pushing back at me, "Tom, this so perfect. We're gonna fuck for an hour. Ugh. Ah. I could do this all the time. Ugh. We ought to move in together. Ah. We could do it every day instead of every few days."

I put my arms under her and pull her tight and kiss her as I keep pumping my hips, moving my cock in her. "Rachel, doing this every day will kill me but I can't think of a better way to die." And I pull back a little so I can start going full stroke, hard and fast. Her eyes glisten and she grins really big and starts pushing back at me and moving me around with those long legs wrapped around me. I had thought several times about having Rachel permanently. But I thought she would never want me, I was just someone she was using until someone better came along. I guess I'm the better she's been looking for. She starts to moan and stiffen, her legs pull me in tight and lock on me, and I can feel her insides spasming on my cock. I pump into her several more times and then stop and hold it in her. She gives me a huge, satisfied kind of smile and, holding me with her legs, wiggles her bottom against me. Obviously, she likes it. She then unlocks her legs and lowers them off me. "What now? Do you want to be on top? Maybe doggie style?"




The Reluctant Bride



She grins at me some more. "Let me roll over. Doggie sounds good right now."

She never seems to be done, to get enough. I pull back and sit back and she rolls onto her stomach and, as I move into position, she raises her butt up to me. I slide right back into her and she gives a big, happy sounding exhale or sigh. Next time we start from scratch, she'll be as tight as ever. But right now, after a lot of fucking and several orgasms, her insides are well lubricated and I easily slide completely in. I lean forward and kiss her shoulders while I slide my hands under her to caress her breasts and then tweak her nipples. Meanwhile I'm pumping long strokes in and out at a good pace, not truly hard fucking, just good steady movement that feels great to me. I guess it feels great to her, too, because she's moaning and grunting again and starting to push back.

It's time for something more. I straighten up, move my hands to grasp either side of her lovely butt and start pounding into her as fast and as hard as I can with almost full strokes. She grunts with each pound into her, pushing her hips back at me strongly. I pound and pound and pound. Animal fucking, beating into her and she continues to push back, wanting every bit of this. I'm perspiring and I'm sure she is, too. But this has worked on me as well as her, I can feel that I'm actually moving towards cuming myself, so I lean back over her, slowing my pace a little. I get one hand around her onto her hard stomach. It's like holding a skin covered board, she's really fit. I slide my hand back a little, getting my fingers to her clit. I can feel my cock moving in her and begin to lightly massage her clit, pushing it around slightly. If I'm gonna cum, she needs to, too. She starts to moan, her push backs get less. As much as I can, bent over her like this, I pound into her, moving myself towards orgasm. She lets out a low scream and her hips stop moving, she's there. I push faster and faster and feel my inside ready to go and then it happens. I shoot off into her as she's in the midst of her orgasm. I'm not shooting out much at this point but we did manage to both cum.

She collapses, laying on her stomach. I almost come out of her and pull my hips back slightly to finish the withdrawal. I slide back a little, looking down at her lovely, round butt. I lean down and kiss it. Kiss it several places and move my hand over it, then kiss up her back onto her shoulders and finally roll off to the side. She rolls to face me and we pull each other close. I hold her and get my hands on her butt. "You are the sexiest thing ever, Rachel. I couldn't go again right now if my life depended on it but still I want you. I want to kiss you, fuck you, eat you. In a little while, though, not now." She just grins at me. I think she's pooped, maybe finally got enough sex. "I want to be with you as much as I can. Moving in together is perfect. I've wanted that since I first met you but never thought I stood a chance."

"Well, I love the way you always say good things about me," she tells me, "that I'm pretty and have a great body and all that. And I've never had anyone that's as good at sex as you. You have a great cock. But even more, I can tell that you really want me. You never say stop, that you're tired. I've purposely pushed myself to try more than ever and you always keep up with me. And you're the best at oral sex ever, you drive me nuts sucking on my clit. So I guess I want to find out more. I don't mean to scare you off but I guess I want to find out if you're a keeper."

"Rachel, I've known you were a keeper since the first time I saw you."

"See?", she answers, "That's why I like you. You always say the right thing. But do you put the toilet seat down? Do you squeeze the toothpaste in the middle? Do you like the same foods as me? I'm sort of picky about my food. Are you neat or messy? Can we get along and be open with one another? Cause we've got the sex part as great as possible. But do we really even like one another?"

I kiss her and hold her tight. "I sure hope we do because I sure want you." She grins and kisses me back. Then she reaches down between us and grabs my very worn cock, then my testicles.

"Well, we're not going to use these for a while. Let's take a shower and then decide who moves where."

Well, we both move. Both of us were on month-to-month where we were so it was no problem. She brings a small bed (but we're going to need a larger one) ) as well as a small kitchen table and a couple chairs. By now, I 'm doing better financially so I went into hock to buy a larger bed, a dresser, a couch for the living room and a dining room table and chairs. Rachel insists she needs to provide something more and bought a refrigerator. Rachel changes her schedule to start handling clients early. Some people would just as soon work out before going to work. So we got on relatively similar schedules.

The store delivers the dining room table and chairs late one afternoon. We're both there and position it where we think it should go and stand there, our arms around one another, looking at our first piece of joint furniture to arrive.

"We should make sure our first meal on the new table is something really delicious, something to remember.," I say, squeezing her a little.

Rachel squeezes me tighter, grins, and replies, "I know what I want to eat that's delicious."

Which makes me realize, that I'd love to sit on a new chair and get my face into her deliciousness while she sits on the table with me between her legs. I kiss her and hold her tight. "Now that you mention it, I know what would be delicious, too."

As she pulls her top over her head and starts removing her slacks, she answers, "I get to go first, I was the one with the idea."

And the pattern for our life together is set. Everything new has to be broken in.