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Resurrection

By: Licorne



She stood in the bathroom, looking into the mirror as tears and cold water dripped down her face. Scooping up some more icy wetness into her hands, she splashed her face again but the burning of her tears and humiliation was not relieved. Down the hall, she heard the sounds of her husband’s regular breathing as he slept on, unconcerned, unaware.

‘How could he DO this to me…again…?’she whispered to the stricken woman looking back at her from the mirror. Her chest was tight with still more tears unshed and her dark eyes were rimmed with red from the ones that had already fallen.

Closing the door, she stood in front of the full-length mirror and stared at herself. Still naked, as she had been under the covers when her husband came to bed, she whispered aloud:

“OK, lady, time for some truth. Let’s take an honest inventory.”

She wasn’t young any more, that was true. Neither was she old. Her body still had the hourglass figure of her girl hood – if perhaps not quite so thin. Her breasts were no longer pert and had lost some of their firmness, but they were still full and her nipples were well formed. Running her hands over her stomach, she acknowledged that the hard flat belly of her youth was a thing of the past, but she honestly couldn’t say that she was flabby. The dark patch of curls at the top of her thighs was still thick and softly curling.

Finally, she examined her face. She was pretty. She wouldn’t go so far as to say beautiful, but she was definitely attractive, with her large dark eyes, high cheekbones and short, wavy hair. When she smiled, she knew that it was a warm smile.

‘Then why doesn’t he want me?’ her heart wailed in silence.

Suddenly the home that they shared felt like it was about to cave in on her. The walls drew closer and she was having trouble breathing. All she could think was to get away! Blindly, she grabbed at the jeans and shirt that has been dropped on the floor a mere hour before, not bothering with bra or panties or even shoes and ran silently down the stairs, pausing only long enough to grab her car keys before fleeing that house, that man and the rejection she felt they both held for her.

She hadn’t had a plan when she left, she wasn’t even really thinking as she drove, but she found herself pulling up in front of Jack’s house. The entire street was dark – it was well past bedtime for most people – but a light burned in his study. 

The same feelings that had driven her from her own home drew her to that welcoming light and the friend who lived within. Her hand was on the doorbell, ringing, before she even realized she had left the car. She heard his footsteps on the tile floor and felt, rather than saw, him peep through the window. 

Seeing her, he opened the door immediately and drew her into his home.

“Li,” he said, his voice full of concern, scanning her attire and bare feet, pacing the cold tile floor. “What’s wrong? What’s happened?”

Hearing the tender concern in Jack’s voice, she stopped and looked him square in the face. They’d known each other for years – forever, it seemed at times – and he’d always been there for her. Just like he was at 1 AM this warm spring night. Her panicked flight was halted at his doorstep and the tears suddenly began to flow again, uncontrolled. Although questions burned in his mind, Jack simply put his arm around her and led her into his study, sitting her down on the old leather couch. Stopping only to grab a clean snifter and pour a couple of fingers of brandy into it, he sat next to her on the couch.

“Drink this,” he told her, placing the glass in her hands, helping her lift it to her lips. Still shaking, she put the snifter to her mouth and drank the entire contents down in one gulp.

“Whoa…take it easy,” he warned her too late, but the liquor had produced the desired effect. Her uncontrolled sobs slowed to little hiccupping sounds as her head dropped to her chest.

“Lianne,” he said softly, taking her chin in his hand and lifting her face to look at him. “Please tell me what’s happened?” horrible images whirled around in his head as to what could have put her in such a state.

Their eyes met and there was something in hers that told him that this wasn’t the same woman he’d known since she was a girl. There was anger growing behind the tears, an anger that was veiled in hurt. Without a word, she sprang to her feet, standing before him. Arms akimbo, legs spread with bare feet firmly planted in the soft rug before his fireplace, she was a sight. 

“Jack – you’re a man,” she began, her voice thick from all her crying, but he could hear the hard edge in it. So he bit back what would have been his usual quip and waited for her to ask him what men knew that she didn’t.

“What’s wrong with me? Am I so repulsive, so undesirable that even my own husband won’t touch me?”

It was probably the last thing he’d expected her to say. He’d been smitten by her, in one way or another, for most of his life and he was the last man on earth to tell her that there was something “wrong” with her. He didn’t know what her husband’s problem was, but looking at her, silhouetted in the firelight, with her shirt crookedly buttoned, her pale skin showing at her breasts and her hips, Jack did the only thing he could have done.

Standing in one fluid movement, he folded her into his arms and took her mouth as his own. She didn’t resist – she was too shocked – so he pressed the moment, moving slowly and softly against her lips, the tip of his tongue caressing the edges where her smile should have been.

He felt the progression in her mind and body. One moment there was no response and then the next, like the first pink rays of dawn there was a warming. Her arms, hanging limp at her sides in her surprise, began to lift towards him and he held his breath, waiting for her touch.

Her hands on his chest hesitated and then gently pushed him away.

Standing inches away from her, he could feel his heart pounding as they looked intently at one another.

“I’m not going to apologize,” he said softly, his voice hoarse with restrained passion.

It was all that he could do to keep himself from reaching out and pulling her back to him. She was still so close that he could smell the brandy on her breath as well as tasting it on his lips from their kiss. Still, he would not force the issue. At this point, if she chose, they could ignore it and go on as they always had – the best of friends.

And that was the last thing that he wanted.

So, he watched her face, the emotions washing over it like a tidal wave and he knew the precise moment when she decided, even before she moved. There was first a brief moment of surprise, of wonder and then peace.

Lianne stepped back into his arms and sighed as they surrounded her. It was a sigh of release, years of hurt and rejections washed away in a moment. Tipping her face back up to him, Jack didn’t say a word, merely gazed into her eyes for a moment, reading them. When his mouth descended once again her lips were soft and pliant, waiting for him.

He couldn’t remember when arousal had taken him so quickly. He felt himself almost instantly growing hard with long denied desire. It was as if she could taste that hunger in his mouth, her own response heated and eager. Her parted lips welcomed his tongue into the hot recesses, to be met by her own, caressing, stroking, suckling. Lianne moaned with pleasure as his hands traveled down her back, cupping her bottom and drawing her more closely to him. She gasped against his mouth as she felt his hard erection pressing into her belly before he felt her smile against him and begin moving her hips.

His own moan couldn’t be suppressed. Needing to feel her skin against him, he grabbed the neck of his tee shirt and pulled it over his head as she, of the same mind began fumbling with the buttons of her blouse.

Covering her hand with his own, he told her, “Let me.” Lianne looked up at him, dark eyes heavy lidded with passion and waited. His own hands trembled as slowly, one by one, he released the tiny buttons of her blouse, letting his fingers trails across her skin as each was undone. Rather than pulling the shirt from her shoulders, he slipped his hands under the thin fabric and caressed her ample breasts softly, tenderly. His manhood throbbed at the tiny whimper of pleasure she made when his thumbs found the already hard nubs of her nipples. Her eyes had never left his face.

“Jack,” she whispered, “I’m so scared….”

He stilled his hands, not knowing what she’d been through, not knowing if he’d struck a respondent chord that raised bad memories. He kissed her lips gently and asked “Why? I’d never hurt you. Ever. I couldn’t.”

Her eyes left his face and she looked at the fire. “I…I…” she tried and failed to speak. There was a silence between them as he waited for her to gather the courage to say what she needed to say.

It spilled out in a rush once she did.

“I don’t know if I can please you.”

He couldn’t help himself. The laughter that burst from him was wonderful, even as it puzzled her. Drawing her tightly into his arms. “Honey, you have no worries there!” and then looking down into her face he said more softly. “You never have. I’ve wanted you like this for more years than I can remember.” Pressing himself against her, he continued, “Can’t you tell?”

Lianne’s dark head bowed, resting her forehead against his chest, but not moving away from him, not taking the delightful pressure of her belly from his aching manhood. When she looked up at him again, there was a tentative smile on her face. 

“This changes everything between us, you know,” she said softly, her arms reaching up around his neck.

His head was bent, his lips already tasting the soft skin of her neck when he responded in a whisper near her ear. “Not for me. For me it’s always been like this with you.”

He felt the shiver that went through her and knew from the way she clung to him that it was one of pleasure. Suddenly, there’d been too much waiting, too much patience. With her acceptance came an urgency to them both. His hands, once again under her shirt, pulled it from her body, his mouth descending to capture the bud of her nipple between his lips. She gasped as his teeth gently pulled at it and buried her hands in his hair, holding him tightly to her chest. He wanted to laugh with the sheer joy of having her with him, but there was no time – his need for her superceded everything else.

He suckled at her breasts like a starving man, while his hands found the clasp and zipper on her jeans, sliding inside and feeling her bare skin. They slid around her hips and cradled her round bottom, kneading the firm flesh and reveling in her moans of pleasure at his attentions.

When her small hands moved to his jeans, he found himself holding his breath. For so long he dreamt of what it would be like to have her delicate fingers wrapped around his swollen member, it was next to impossible to realize that it was about to happen. His mouth left her breast and he stood to stare into her eyes as he felt her released the button and then slid the zipper down. He didn’t even try to suppress the groan as his erection was given some relief from the constraint of his pants, only to be followed by a low moan as she lightly ran her hand along his length.

“Damn, Li..yes…”he whispered. Her eyes, which had been lowered in concentration, flashed back to his and seeing the heat in his, she felt bold. Watching his expression, she slid her hand past the waistband of his briefs and touched him. Grasping him in her small hand, she gently rubbed her thumb across the head, slick with precum, stroking him firmly until he could barely stand.

Placing his own hand over hers, he moved it away, explaining to her puzzled expression, “Sweetheart, I don’t want to have it over to soon…”

She blushed, but seemed pleased to know how excited he was, feeding his own heat. Without a further word, Jack pushed her jeans past her hips and watched as they fell to the floor, leaving her naked before him. Framed in firelight, she took his breath away.

“Lianne – you are so lovely…”

When she dipped her head to look away from him, he caught her chin and made her look into his eyes once more. “Yes. You are. You’ve always been.” When she started to shake her head, he folded her tightly into his embrace and found her mouth again, letting his kiss try and convince of the truth in his words. Her response was like fine wine, intoxicating as her tongue hungrily sought his, entwining and plunging in an ageless dance. Her breasts were crushed into his chest and he could feel the hard nubs of her nipples against his skin. As much as he wanted to make this first time together memorable, he knew he wouldn’t last long.

Bending down, Jack swept her up into his arms, rewarded by her surprised laughter as she wound her arms tightly around his neck. His mouth found hers again and kissed her deeply as he carried her into his bedroom, down the hall. As he lay her down on his bed, she clung to him, her mouth hot and hungry upon his. With difficulty, he pulled himself away and stood up. In the darkness, he could see her delicate outline on the bed, waiting for him. With a little time to plan, he would have filled the room with candles, burning a soft light throughout the room. Instead he improvised, reaching into the bathroom and flipped the switch. The light from the open door poured out onto the bed, like a soft spotlight onto Lianne’s waiting body. He decided that if this were a dream, it was the best one every – one from which he never wished to awaken.

Then he heard her voice, soft and familiar, but with a rough edge of passion that lit him on fire.

“Jack, please…come to me…”

Slipping out of his jeans and briefs, he stepped over to the bed, about to lie down next to her when she rose to her knees. Crawling to the edge where he stood, she reached out and touched his naked erection. It was almost too much and he groaned his pleasure at the caress. She glanced up at him with a mischievous smile on her face and it hit him hard – warming his heart to see the change in her. Lianne didn’t give him much time to think about it, though. Settling back onto her heels, she cupped his sac with one hand while she stroked his shaft and began to place soft kisses along it.

“Oh god, Li…” he moaned, his hand on her head, caressing her dark curls.

As if spurred on by his pleasure, her lips traveled to the head, tongue snaking out to lick the precum glistening there. His knees quaked as she sucked him into her mouth, tongue swirling around that sensitive head. His fingers clenched in her hair as his hips began to move against her, pumping slowly as she took more of him into her mouth. The sight of her kneeling there, her lovely naked body on his bed, her dark head buried in his groin was nearly enough to send him over the top. But there was so much more he wanted to do with her this night.

Gently, reluctantly, pulling away from her sweet torture, he pressed slightly on her shoulders to get her to lie down on the bed. Kneeling between her legs, he felt her tremble as his fingers stroked the slick, hot slit he found there. His mouth found those hidden lips, licking and biting softly, feeling his cock throb at the sounds of her pleasure. He sank his tongue deep into her, suckling of the sweet juices there before moving to the swollen little marvel that would bring her to such pleasure. He wasn’t disappointed. Her clit was hard and swollen and very, very sensitive to his tongue. While his fingers toyed with her, penetrating where he soon wanted to place himself, his mouth suckled and tongue flicked until he felt her rise against his face and heard the low keening moan that accompanied her climax. Her first with him.

He didn’t move until she was done, enjoying each spasm that shook through her, enjoying the taste of her pleasure. Finally her hands were gently stroking his hair, calling his name, tugging at him and he moved to join her on the bed, cradling her into his arms.

Her hands stroked his face, feeling the wetness from his loving her, kissing him slow and deep.

“Never…”she whispered. “…never like that before…”

He shifted, leaning over her with his weight on one arm. “I promise you – it will always be at least that good.”

She searched his face for a moment, so many implications in that one simple statement. At last she smiled. 

“I believe you.”

Despite his earlier sense of urgency, he now was filled with a sense of timelessness. Slowly, he positioned himself between her parted legs, his swollen manhood meeting the wet heat of her womanly core. They’re eyes were locked on one another, smiles on their faces and he began to press himself into her. Not even inch-by-inch, but mere fractions of inches at a time, he slid easily past her lips, touching the entrance to her body. Her eyes closed briefly as he passed this threshold and he held himself still until she opened them again. The smile was still there, mixed with heated passion, in the dark wells of her eyes and he moved himself more deeply inside of her, feeling her tight warmth surround him.

It was exquisite torture, this slow pursuit. Where every instinct told him to move his hips against her in a rapid search for their mutual pleasure, this seemed to heighten the threshold for them both. As he felt himself deeply impaled in her body, she began to move.

Slowly at first, tentatively until it was more than he could bear. Jack found her mouth again, kissing her deeply as his hips began to thrust deeply into her, his tongue penetrating and pumping into her as hard as his cock was. He could feel her hands on his back, caressing, then scratching lightly, then clawing at him as he felt and heard the moans of her climax. Feeling her spasms milking at him was more than he could stand and he thrust hard into her, a roar of purely male pleasure escaping from his mouth into hers.

It seemed forever that they lie together, luxuriating in their sweat and exhaustion. She was the first to speak.

“I need you to know that I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“Li, I know, really…”

She placed a finger on his lips to stop him. “I mean it, Jack. There’s never been anyone other than him.” Her face hardened and what passed for a laugh was bitter. “Not that he’s ever really been there.”

This time he placed a hand over her mouth to stop her.

“Listen to me.” He gently stroked the side of her face. “I don’t know where we’re going to go with this…but in here – with you and me – let’s leave the world outside, ok?”

Lianne looked at him and slowly her smile returned. Kissing the palm of his hand, she nodded and once again they lay down, snuggled in each other’s arms. As she drifted off in her first deep sleep in too long, she realized that the future was a blank page to her now. It was as if she’d been dead and had somehow, miraculously, returned from Hades.

And life was starting to look good.

Resurrection



When she dropped her arms this time, he saw her unhook her bra and, when she faced him now, that article slipped to the floor. He caught his breath. Gravity had done its work, but her breasts were full, not flat, and the nipples pointed straight ahead.

Her hips still swayed their seduction, as she put her hands on her abdomen, and slowly slid them up over her breasts, to raise them above her head once more. From the side, with her arms raised, her breasts were youthful, her nipples now swollen, and erect. 

Mesmerized, he watched as she rotated again. When she dropped her hands this time, it was to unfasten her skirt, and as she turned to face him, it too, dropped to the floor. Her panties were old-fashioned, with flared legs, and a satin sheen. They were infinitely sexy, and he was beginning to breathe hard.

As she faced him, she slipped her hands under the waistband, and, hips swaying, she slowly worked the panties down over her hips to drop to the floor. She kicked them aside and, standing naked before him, did another slow turn. Then she glided to him slowly, swaying as before.

Directly in front of him now, her mound was at his eye level. She spread her feet to shoulder width, and softly thrust her pelvis toward him, while she ran her hands down between her legs, and slowly drew them up over her pussy, stretching it, and causing her labia to protrude.

He scent intoxicated him, and he was transfixed by the vision he saw. She had her hands on her hips now, and they still gently swayed. He stared, as her labia became engorged with her arousal, and swelled to extend an inch, or more, below her pussy. They glistened with her juices. A storm of desire slashed through his loins. He wanted her in his mouth, any part of her, all of her.

She leaned over him, full breasts swaying gently, and began to unbutton his shirt, saying softly, “Let’s get these clothes off.” She worked his shirt off, drew his T-shirt over his head, and fumbled with his belt buckle. Now, he took over. His pants hit the floor, then his shorts, and he began to suckle her breast. She threw her head back, and sighed, then Ann said, “O.K. kids, it’s show time.”

He hadn’t heard her come in. Startled, he looked up, and his eyes bugged. She had teased her hair into a bush, and wore a shiny black mask covered with sequins. A jeweled dog collar circled her neck, and a soft, black leather halter outlined the bottom of her small breasts, to lift them, and thrust them out. A black something, that looked like a scanty garter belt, girdled her hips, with two thongs that led down past each side of her pussy, and seemed to push it out, and plump it. 

She was aroused too, her pussy glistened with wetness. Shiny, thigh-high boots with stiletto heels completed the picture and, in one hand, she held a little black cat ’o nine tails, that she used to gently strop her other hand.

She was the most erotic creature he had ever seen. He had a violent urge to leap up, throw her down on the bed, and fuck her blind before she could react, but the thought died aborning. His cock was limp as wet spaghetti.

Ann wore a wicked grin, as she said, “I think he likes us Angie, but he seems to be having some kind of problem. Let’s see if we can fix it for him.”

She tossed the whip aside, and commanded, “Down on the bed, Teddy-boy; in the middle, on your back.” Angie helped him comply, and the women lay down too, one on either side, facing him, with their heads on his chest. For a moment he thought bitterly, this was every teen-age boy’s dream, but here he was, seventy years old, and he couldn’t do a god damn thing, but lie there, and let them toy with him.

Ann roughly pulled his legs apart to spread them. She lay one of her legs over one of his, while Angie did the same on the other side, He put his arms around both their necks, and caressed their backs, as he felt each of them slide a hand down his chest and belly, to fondle his cock. He wanted, so desperately, to get hard, but nothing happened. 

He felt their bodies next to his, as they caressed him gently. They were different, but the sensations were delicious, and he luxuriated. Angie was plump, soft, and pliable, while Ann was lean, as firm as a teenager, with skin smooth as a baby’s. He wondered how she managed to remain so youthful.

The sexual tension raged in him now, and tears of frustration welled in his eyes. The women continued to fondle and caress him, and he was surprised to see them kiss passionately, as their heads lay together on his chest. Then, as if on signal, both of them rose on an elbow, and presented a breast to his mouth. He didn’t know where to go, so he worked them both as well as he could. Ann smiled, and said, “That’s a good boy.”

Then she sat up, and said. “Angie, we better go to work. Give him a taste of something good, and I’ll work the lower end.”

Angie rose to kneel over him, straddling his body. He felt her wetness on his belly, as she slowly rocked on him, and now the scents of both women filled his nostrils. They were different, but they excited him like nothing ever before.

Ann said, “You better slide up, babe, I need some working room.”

Angie slowly slithered up his body, trailing her pussy juices, until she was nearly on his face. She lifted his head to put a small, hard pillow under it, and rocked gently on him. This was a new experience for him, and her scent was maddening. He had to have her in his mouth. He didn’t know if it was instinct, or something he learned from the internet, but he pointed his tongue, and lightly licked up the angle between her thigh and her pussy, over the top, down the other side, and back again. She threw her head back and sighed, as he ran his tongue around her inner labia. She squealed when he roughly sucked her labia into his mouth, and ran his tongue up and down the slit between them. 

She was rocking hard now. He flattened his tongue to let her rock her pussy on it, and he sensed she was close to orgasm. He thrust his tongue hard into her crack, as she shuddered, and cried out in ecstasy, but he wasn’t done yet. He slowed for a moment, then insinuated his tongue into her fully engorged pussy, and slowly flicked his way up to the top, where he probed her clitoral hood for the bud that lay within. He found it, and circled it with his tongue, as once again, she moaned with her building orgasm.

He’d been too busy to notice what Ann was doing below, but suddenly, he realized she was gently mouthing his cock, while she stroked its shaft with her hand. As quickly as he realized this, he had a sense of wonderment, and he gasped, as the delicious feeling of a mounting erection flowed through him. He lost his concentration on Angie, and Ann said, sharply, “You better turn around babe, I think we hit pay dirt.”

Angie quickly reversed direction. She wasn’t going to lose what she was feeling, but she needed to see what Ann was talking about, and Ted found himself with his nose in her rosebud. It struck him as funny, and he tried to laugh, but his laughter was stifled by Angie’s pussy on his face. The motion of his laughing brought Angie off again. The whole exercise was hilarious to him, but he was pinned, and couldn’t move. Another sense took over, as he felt Ann straddle his now, rock-hard cock.

That took all his attention now, though Angie was still rocking on his face, and he had a devil of a time concentrating on both of them. Ann began pumping on him, and he was amazed at the strength of his erection. The women faced each other, and a corner of his mind noted they were kissing passionately, as one rocked, and the other pumped. Passion had overtaken them all, and Ted began thrusting hard, as his own orgasm approached. The women were whimpering and moaning, and he was grunting, until they all exploded together. Ed’s orgasm was more intense than any he’d ever experienced, and it filled him with wonder.

Their intensity began to subside. Angie moved off his face to squat beside them. Ann remained mounted, while his erection softened. He couldn’t fathom the expression on her face, but suddenly, she slapped him hard, and said, “You bastard. Fifty-five god damn years you made me wait for this. Where the hell were you?”

Suddenly, she was contrite. Tears welled in her eyes, and she said.”I’m sorry Ted, I don’t know why I did that.” 

Her slap shocked him, but he heard her words, and understood. He pulled her down to nestle on his chest. Then, holding her tightly, he rolled side-to-side, to allow her to straighten her legs, while he kissed her, and caressed her back. 

“I’m really not that good,” he whispered, “and I owe you more than you can imagine. I never thought I could do this again.”

His erection was gone now, and he felt her quiver, as it slipped out of her. She rolled off him, and both women, again lay down on either side of him, all of them basking now, in the afterglow of their lovemaking. He mused on the change in him. It was miraculous, and he didn’t feel as though he was through.

They lay quietly for awhile, and again, he felt Ann’s hand slither down to fondle his cock. The women were kissing now. It excited him, and he began to feel the swelling of arousal. Ann continued to fondle him, as she asked Angie, “How was your end of the business?” 

Angie gave a throaty chuckle, and said, softly, “You should try it some time.”

Ted felt himself growing under Ann’s ministrations, and she whispered, “You think you can get up for another go, big boy?”

If he wasn’t now, he would be soon, and he whispered back, “You raised the dead once today, kid, keep working at it. I think you can do it again.”

“Well, we better give Angie a taste of the main course, and I’ll have a sample of what she had. We’ve got to give you a good tryout before we decide whether to keep you or not.”

Ted was now fully erect, and he was in a playful mood, so he whispered, “Are you going to do something, or are you just going to talk about it?”

Angie had been dozing in the afterglow, but she came alert, and said, “What are you two whispering about?”

Ann chuckled, “Just getting you set up for the main course. Our boy’s up again, and ready for action.”

Angie slid her hand down to fondle Ted’s cock, and sat up for a good look. She pursed her lips, and said, “Oh, that’s a good one. How are we going to deal with this?”

Ted came back. “I want to know what I’m getting into here. You ladies better stand up and let me see you.”

The women got up to stand in front of him, as he sat on the edge of the bed. Together they took his breath away. Angie, full-bodied, ripe, plump, but not flabby, his idea of all that a well-maintained, healthy fifty-year-old woman should be, except she was seventy. Ann; lean, lithe, only her silver hair revealing her age. In the seductive light of the room, she could have been a teenager.

Suddenly, he thought, God, what have I been missing all these years? 

“You are the two most beautiful, most loving, most seductive creatures I have seen in my entire life. Where have I been? Where have I been?”

Ann said, “Stop talking, Buster, and back up those words with some action. Angie, you know what to do next.”

Angie knelt between his spread legs, and Ted’s eyes flared, as she gently began to mouth his cock. He threw his head back, and sighed, as the marvelous sensations gripped him. Then he realized that Ann was lacking attention, and said, “Hold on for a minute, Ann needs some TLC, too.”

He directed Ann to lie on her back at the edge of the bed, and asked Angie to lie on the floor beneath him. He knelt over her, his legs spread to give her access. She needed the little pillow under her head so she could reach his cock comfortably, and he leaned over to look at Ann.

He’d never seen pussies this close, and he marveled that two creatures of the same sex, should be so different. Angie’s slit was long, from top to bottom, and plump, her labia full as a bunch of grapes when she was aroused. Ann’s pussy was small, and nearly round, as lean as she was herself, her labia barely visible, even when she was spread. But the juices of her arousal seemed to flow in a stream. She was different, but equally breathtaking, as he leaned in to go to work. He began as he had done with Angie. Ann crooned, and sighed, as he licked his way around her opening. She quivered, and gasped, as he ran his tongue up and down her slit. 

Then he found her clit, and his eyes widened. Angie had a little button, nearly covered by her clitoral hood, that he had to probe with his tongue to find. Ann’s was full as a cherry tomato, and protruding. His excitement grew, as he rimmed it and licked it. He heard and felt Ann’s orgasm build, and he took her clit in his mouth and sucked. She thrashed, and kicked, and squirmed in the throes of a violent orgasm, and suddenly she cried, “Stop, stop, stop.” Startled, Ted pulled his mouth away. ”Oh God, Ted,” she whimpered, “you’re too rough. Be gentle with me. Be gentle with me.”

He blinked in surprise. This tough, confident woman, so dominating before, was pleading with him to be gentle with her. He was contrite. “I’m sorry Ann, I’m new to this.”

She was sobbing, and whimpering, but she didn’t show any sign of pushing him away. He didn’t know what to do, so he went back again, blowing on her clit, tickling her lips with his tongue, and giving her clit little flicks. She began to sigh again, and breathe hard, as another orgasm built. This time, he only teased her clit, and suddenly she humped, grabbed his head, and ground it into her pussy, as she came in a long, shuddering orgasm, whimpering, and crying, “Oh, Ted. Oh, Ted, Oh, Ted.” 

She gently lifted his head away from her, and again gave him a look he couldn’t define. He braced for another outburst, but she only smiled enigmatically, and pulled him up to kiss her. She sighed again, as her passion subsided, and pushed him away gently, saying, “You better pay some attention to Angie, big boy.” 

He was beginning to sense the work Angie was doing, and knew he was rising up to another orgasm. He gently pulled away from her mouth, and said, “If I’m going to last long enough to finish this job, we better do something else.”

Now he took charge. He pulled Angie to her feet, and said to Ann, “Scoot up baby, and give your lover some room.”

Ann squirmed back toward the center of the bed, and Angie saw Ted’s intention. She said, “Keep going sweetheart, I’ve get to get up here on my knees, and I need enough room to give you some help, too.”

Ann moved further back, and Angie climbed up to kneel on the edge of the bed. She leaned forward to kiss Ann, and suckle her breast, but Ted grasped her hips, and pulled her back.. That put her mouth in line with Ann’s prize, and she leaned on her hands, examining it closely.

Ted began to strop her ass with his cock, then moved in to slide it up and down her sopping crack. She squirmed, and gasped, then, suddenly, she pushed onto him, and went down on her elbows to begin tonguing Ann. Ted started slowly stroking in and out. Their passion rose again, and both women began to whimper, and croon as another orgasm built. Their cries excited Ted even more, and he began to pound into Angie, growling with his effort. His cries ratcheted up their intensity even more, and in a moment, the house could have fallen down around them and none of them would have noticed. 

They came together in a shuddering, grinding orgasm, and Ted went weak. His legs began to quiver, and he slumped over Angie’s back. She felt the change in his posture, as Ann did, too. Ann looked at up him, alarmed, and said, “Angie, our boy’s had too much. We better get him down.”

No time for afterglow now, though Ted was recovering quickly. He was breathing heavily, and his legs were shaky, as they helped him onto the bed. Both women were serious now, but Ted smiled. “I’m a little out of practice,” he said.

The women lay down beside him again, and caressed his body, both alert with concern over his sudden weakness. But he was breathing easier now, and their concern began to ease. “That was a maximum effort,” he said, “but I’ll be O.K. now. I could use a little time off, though.”

Ann chuckle was sardonic. “I guess so. That was quite a performance for a guy who can’t get it up any more with us passive old women.”

Ted was slipping away, with post-coital drowsiness, and said, “How about letting me have a little nap right here?” 

Ann said, “Whaddya think Babe? Should we give him a break?”

Angie was taking it more seriously. Worriedly, she said, “I think we better, Ann.”

They kissed each other over his chest, and rolled out. Ted began to snore quietly, as they strolled away, arm-in-arm. Ann whispered, “You didn’t finish the job, babe, I need a little more.”

Angie chuckled. “Ann, you’re insatiable. You must be some kind of succubus for men and women, both.”

“Well?”

“O.K. sweetheart, let’s finish it.”

They knelt on the plush carpet, and began their lovemaking, kissing each other’s breasts, caressing, and feeling one another. As their arousal increased, they lay down side-by-side, and continued exploring each other’s bodies, until Ann roughly turned Angie on her back, and went sixty-nine on her. They tongued each other vigorously, and as they climbed the peak of orgasm, they tried to be quiet, so as not to disturb Ted, but their cries, and whimperings penetrated his slumber just enough for him to sigh with pleasure, and dream of the afternoon’s action.

The peak they climbed was not as high as they had gone with Ted but, sated now, they lay quietly in each other’s arms for a few moments. Then Angie sighed, saying, “If we’re going to put on that great dinner for Ted, we’d better get with it.”

Ann sighed, too, with resignation, and said. I guess you’re right. But wasn’t that great? I’m a little shaky, too.”

They rose quietly and, holding each other, spent a few moments watching Ted sleep. They looked at each other knowingly, then silently went to clean up.

As they began preparing for the dinner, they talked intimately, as only two old friends can, who have no secrets from each other.

Angie asked, “How come Ted is so innocent in sexual matters?

I mean, he’s seventy years old, like I am. He’s never done anything like that before.

Angie chuckled. “Right, but he’s obviously a fast learner.” She laughed out loud. “Can you imagine? Two old broads and and old man, rutting like ruddy teenagers, all afternoon. Ted popped twice, an old guy who claims he can’t get it up, and both of us got off at least four times. The young folks would never believe it.

“But to answer your question, it’s a generational thing. Women of our generation were taught that sex is dirty, that nice girls don’t. Now, from the time I wet my finger watching Ted jack-off, I thought that was bull shit. And if you remember, you were goody-two-shoes, a real Miss Priss, until you hooked up with me. 

Guys like Ted, were also taught that nice girls don’t, and they married wives in the same tradition. A little genteel intercourse in the missionary position was what society expected. The kind of stuff we did today, was done in whorehouses, not nice homes; at least no one admitted to it. I’ll bet Ted had that kind of a sexual relationship, and I’ll bet he never cheated on his wife, either.” 

She chuckled wickedly. “But he sure learned fast, didn’t he?”

She stopped what she was doing, and frowned, pensive for a moment. “Babe, you know I like to fuck, and you know I never lacked in getting my needs fulfilled, but I never fell in love with them. I thought I loved your brother, but when he turned into a drunken wife beater, it turned me off from the whole idea of love.”

Angie sighed, thoughtfully. “Yeah, our father taught him well. Me too, I guess, I went and married someone just like him, and that’s what drew us together. You and I held each other up, as we fought our way out of those disasters.” 




Resurrection



Ann was pensive again. “It just occurred to me, I had a crush on Ted from the time I was a little girl. It lasted until I was through high school, and he’d already been gone four years by then. From the time I had my first orgasm watching him, I never felt anything as intense as that, until today. That must be why I smacked him. I really don’t know what came over me.”

She pursed her lips, tears rimmed her eyes, and she looked at Angie sadly. “Babe, I think I’m in love with your man.”

“Oh Ann, I love him too, but he’s not my man. It’s strange he should come into our lives at this late date. He’s kind of returning to both of us. I knew him all the way through school, but he was just another kid, kind of shy and nerdy. He showed up at the reunion a few years ago, calm, and confident, and gentle, and he lit my fire for the first time in years. When I heard his wife died, I was scared to death to write him, but I thought I was flying when he called me. Now, it turns out he was your first real love, and he’s got you up in the air, too.

“Ann, honey, we’ve been friends, and lovers, and meant so much to each other so many years, there’s no way he’s going to come between us. As far is I’m concerned, he’s ours, if he’ll have us. If he won’t, we had an afternoon to remember when the rocking chair gets us, and that day isn’t far away for any of us.”

“How you talk, girl, I expect to be screwin’ when I’m ninety.”

Angie laughed out loud. “Ann, you’re incorrigible. I just worry that Mr. Strait-laced will think we’re two dirty old women, and he won’t have anything to do with us any more.”

It was Ann’s turn to laugh. “Not a chance, babe, this guy hasn’t got it on for years. Today, he had a hard-on like a teenage kid who just discovered his cock was good for something better than pissing. And he got into it, like a baby with its first dish of ice cream. No, babe, he’s going to want more.”

She frowned soberly. “Babe, you don’t know how lucky we are. What happened today only works once in a hundred times. He’ll be able to keep it up for awhile, but at seventy, most men have lost it completely. It’s not going to last forever, and we need to be careful not to do anything that destroys it for all of us.”

They had set the table, and done everything but grill the steaks, while they talked. Ann said, “You better go wake our boy up, and get him cleaned up, and dressed. Give him a sniff of your tits, slide your hand down his belly, and check his oil. I bet you get a rise out of him, but don’t you dare go any further. I don’t want these steaks to burn.”

Angie did as she was asked, and soon returned with Ted, now showered and dressed. Ann smiled inwardly. The look on his face was somewhere between total befuddlement, and the cat that ate the canary. Well, it had been a powerful revelation for her too, and Angie as well. She sensed that all their lives were taking on a new direction.

Ted was enthralled by what was happening to him. First, the awakening of his dead sexuality; he’d thought that part of his life was over. Then came the intense lovemaking session. He thought, with wonderment, he’d gotten his rocks off twice; he couldn’t remember that happening since his early twenties. And he’d been afraid there’d be a negative reaction to his shooting blanks, but it wasn’t an issue. 

Now he was having this dinner; candle light, fine china, wine, steaks, salad and garlic bread, served to him by two women he’d known from childhood, who had grown into his ideal of mature, feminine beauty. And each so delightfully different, too. He wondered if he had died, and gone to heaven, and somehow missed the transition.

They talked together quietly, enjoying each other’s company, like old friends, as comfortable with one another as old shoes. At last, Ann yawned, stretched, and said, “Well kids, we’re all at the age where we can party all night, just so long as we’re home in bed by nine. It’s been a lovely day, but a long one. I suggest you two head on home, and we all get some rest.”

Ted went to use the bathroom, and the women hugged each other. Ann said, “Babe, we gave him a pretty good jump start today. Take him home, bed him, and do whatever you have to to keep his motor running.” She looked deeply into Angie’s eyes. “But if you don’t bring him back here at least one more time before you send him back to the coast, I’ll never speak to you again.”

Angie hugged her tightly, “Oh Ann, please don’t worry about that. We started as three, and we’ll end as three, unless Ted won’t have it.”

Ann chuckled. “Babe, I’d bet my life that won’t be a problem.”

They kissed each other gently, as Ted returned. He came up to Ann, held her, and looked deep into her eyes. “Ann, I thought I was dead. I don’t know how to thank you for bringing me back to life.” 

She suppressed a little smile. She knew damn well what he could do to thank her, but then her eyes brimmed, as deep emotion overwhelmed her, and the long-denied love she felt for him rose to choke her. She was tempted to tell him right then and there, but she was afraid it would destroy what they had just begun.

She held his face in her hands, and kissed him gently, saying, “Ted, you can’t imagine how happy I am that we were able to do this for you. Now take your lady home. We’ll meet again, I’m sure.”

Angie’s car was parked behind Ted, so she pulled out first, and drove away. Ted pulled out, and drove on, musing about his experience.

God! What a day! Woke up this morning, afraid I was going to be a terrible disappointment to Angie, then Ann came in. What a woman that is; confident, dominating, a lioness, the goddess Diana personified. She scared me to death when she was a little girl, and it was worse when she started teasing me this morning. Then the whole thing changed. She brought back something I thought I had lost forever. Then she cried, and said I hurt her. I didn’t want to do that. She was so different when I left this evening.

And Angie; so lovely, so warm, feminine, she brought me out of the depths of despair. I so wanted to please her in every way, and now it looks like I can.

I don’t know if I can keep up a loving relationship with two women, but I’m sure going to try.

Ted drove slowly, while he mused. Angie had already arrived and put her car away. She was waiting at the door, as he drove in and parked. He walked up to the door, and she held it open for him, smiling softly, a warm glow in her eyes. “Come in, my man, it’s time for us to go to bed.”



Resurrection



Hell, I never did really believe much in life after death. I guess the idea sounded a bit like hope to me, so I have to admit to being surprised when I did find out.

But my first surprise was I never even saw the truck coming.

Fact is, I was looking across the street at this sweet young thing's ass. The skirt she had on came down just barely to the bottom of her butt cheeks, I couldn't help myself.

I stepped off the curb to go over there, get me a closer look.

Didn't feel a thing.

Next thing I knew I was standing in line, every few seconds the line would move a step or two.

I couldn't see the head of the line, it vanished off into the distance. I turned and looked back, the line behind me was getting long, too.

What the hell, I followed along, looking around. There wasn't much to look at. Just the flat white plain going on and on, the single line of people moving a step or two, then patiently standing there in silence.

I did notice a few of them were naked, that seemed odd.

After what seemed like one darn long time I looked up, here was this guy in white robes, big long beard, just sitting there in a chair. 

I had expected big pearly gates, green forests, streams, flowers. Maybe a few horns playing music in the background would have been nice.

Each person in front of the line stepped up, there were a few words and they vanished, then the next one stepped up.

Finally it was my turn.

"You are assigned back to Earth." He said.

"Assigned? To what? What do I do?"

"You watch."

"Watch what?"

"Everything."

"What do you mean, everything?"

"Quit asking so many questions, you are going to make me late for lunch!"

"But...."

"Git! Or I will post you to an emerging Sun for a few million years!"

"Am I in Hell?"

"There ain't any such place, GET OUTA HERE!"

With that I was gone.

I found myself standing stark naked in the middle of the street.

I glanced around, heads were starting to turn my way. Instinctively I reached down to cover myself with my hands.

I didn't even see the truck coming.

Just fuck!

After waiting in line for what seemed like a few years, noticing this time that about one out of 100 or so were stark naked too, I looked up at the same old guy sitting in the chair.

"You lasted a long time, I see." He said, with a sneer.

"Hey, you dropped me naked in the middle of the street!" I protested.

"We can't send clothing. Costs to damned much! Deal with it!"

Poof.

I was standing stark naked on a beach.

I looked up, there was a big sign. 

It read, "Clothing optional area ahead."

OK. Cool! This will work.

"Hey, you!" Someone shouted at me.

I turned around, a cop was standing there, a mean look on his face.

Why do fucking cops always have to act so damned mean?

"What?" I asked.

"The clothing optional area is over there." he pointed.

I looked over there, about 30 feet away there were naked people everywhere.

"So? Everybody over here can see over there."

"Don't get smart with me, asshole! It's against the law to be undressed over here!"

"But...."  I looked around, people on one side of the sign had suits on, on the other side everybody was naked.

Oh, well.

I walked past the sign, wandered down the beach.

I needed some clothes. It was pretty obvious I wasn't going to go buy some.

I wandered along until I found a blanket with no one around, some clothes laying there. I grabbed a pair of pants and a shirt, both one size too small but they would do.

There was a jacket too, it felt heavy. I took off at a trot, there would be time to check the pockets later.

I got the hell out of there.

I was just pulling the jacket on when I felt something in the pocket bump my side. I reached in and pulled out a pistol.

I was standing there looking at it stupidly when I heard someone yell.

"Freeze!"

"What?" I said, turning his way.

I got just a glimpse of the cop standing there, pointing his gun at me.

Bang.

Just fuck.

The old man stared at me with a dirty look this time. I stood there and waited.

"That's two strikes." He said finally.

What is this, fucking baseball? I thought.

But I kept my mouth shut.

"Don't get smart with me, I will send you off to an emerging SUN!" He said.

Great. 

He reads my mind.

I decided to let my mind stay blank, but the thought that this stupid bastard must like that "emerging Sun" shit slipped in there anyway.

"That does it!" He snarled.

Poof.

HOLY SHIT!

I was standing on a ball of molten rock, volcanos everywhere, rivers of lava flowing.

Well, this just sucks.

I was there for a long time.

The place was finally starting to cool down, I had even found a nice boiling pool of water to splash in when suddenly I was back in line.

Eventually it was my turn, I stood there meekly waiting.

"Learn anything?" He asked.

"Yes, sir, I did." 

I stood quietly, my head hanging, my mind completely blank from eons of practice.

He glared at me, I knew he was trying but getting nothing.

"OK." He said, finally.

Poof.

I was standing on a street corner. I looked around, didn't see anybody but I heard something running. Finally I realized there was a big truck, some guy running a winch on the back with a long cable going almost straight up, obviously lifting somethi...????

UHOH!

I jumped sideways just as a piano landed right where I had been standing.

"OH! Hey! Wow that was close!" the guy on the back of the truck climbed down.

"Are you all right? Where are your clothes?"

I didn't answer, just took off at a dead run. I dodged the kid on the messenger bike, ran down an alley towards what looked like an open area, hoping against hope I might find some clothes somewhere and blend in. Too late I saw the train tracks for the shuttle train.

Just fuck!

"Well, that's four." The old man said.

"What the hell is this place?" I demanded.

"This is life after death."

"But...? I read that there is heaven, and then Hell, and maybe something in betwee....?"

"Naw, life is just information. Can't be destroyed. We have to do SOMETHING with all of it. Hey, haven't you ever read Steven Hawkings?"

"Who?"

"Never mind. You are getting to be one pain in the ass. Take over, I am going on break."

"Take over? Take over what?"

"Here. You decide. No point in sending you anywhere, you will just come back."

I sat in the chair, the old man got up and started to amble off.

"Wait a minute? If I am such a fuckup, why am I being promoted?"

He stopped and grinned at me.

"This ain't no promotion.", He cackled, then he was gone.

I looked up at the line, no end to it, on and on until it vanished over the horizen.

Just fuck!

Oh, well.

Might as well have fun.

I dumped a fat old lady naked as a jaybird into the grandstands at a NASCAR race, two biker dudes I dropped into a gay bathhouse in San Francisco.

There was a whole string of black guys I sent off to a KKK rally, then a KKK guy showed up so I spent the extra energy and sent him fully dressed in his best dress whites to a mostly black nightclub in New York.

There was a corporate white collar dude I sent to a salt mine, a dictator that was hated by his people seemed to fit right in down at the slave labor camps.

This was cool! I could do anything I wanted!

I was just in the process of sending the overweight Jewish department store owner into the middle of a terrorist training camp when the old guy showed up.

"You are really a prick, aren't you?"

"What difference does it make, everybody is dead?"

"You don't get it, nobody ever dies."

"Well, I did!"

"Did not."

"Did too."

"You are here, ain't you?"

Hmmm. Well, I couldn't argue with that.

"There is just one thing to do with you."

"Oh, yeah? What can you do to me that could possibly be worse?"

Poof.

Sure is dark in here.

I felt something, it tickled, then everything lit up.

I could see walls, a window, some half dead plants on a windowsill.

A face appeared, suddenly I felt my mind shift to some place I didn't recognize, it seemed to be a.....web site?

Then it hit me. Information, that is what the old guy said.

I was inside a hard drive. Information. Just information. That is all there is to life. The old bastard made me into a goddam computer!

Then I realized.

OH NO!

Go**amit!!

Nanny block.

Just ****!!!



Resurrection



Resurrection

The morning light struck his eyes from the window. He awoke, dazed and blinded. He shifted in bed to get out of the light but was hampered by an unfamiliar weight. Scooting out of the light, he looked down. He was naked, which was odd. A halo of blond hair covered his chest. He had slept alone for so long that this was unbelievable. Memories threatened to surface but he could not quite grasp them. Her breath, for he was sure it was a woman, tickled his chest hairs as she breathed, sleeping soundly. Curious as to her identity, he gently brushed her hair back from her face. His touch caused her to stir. She turned slowly to look up at him. Her blue eyes and bright smile caused all the memories from the previous day to suddenly return.

"Good morning, Daddy." 

*****

"All right, smile you goof balls." 

The three girls stood for the camera as William snapped a picture. His youngest daughter, Natalie, and her two friends, Bailey and Michelle, were making goofy poses in their graduation gowns. The end of their last year in school was enhanced by their having just turned eighteen two months ago. They were happy to be free for the summer and excited for the future.

"Come here, Mr. B," shouted Michelle, "I'll get a picture of you and Nat." Their last name was Buchannan but the other two girls always called him Mr. B.

"Oh no. I take pictures, I'm not in them." He demurred.

"Come on. It's not every day your last child graduates from high school." Michelle snatched the camera from his hands. "Go over there and stand with her. I promise to take a good one."

Having been overcome, after putting up a token resistance, William went and stood with Natalie. Natalie, of course, fussed with his hair and tie. He sighed and squirmed as she did it.

"Cheer up. I want this picture to be special." Natalie's golden hair sparkled in the June sun but her smile shined more like her own star. She had inherited his family's mostly Scandinavian looks. Standing a few inches over five feet tall, she was every bit as graceful as any super model. 

"Besides, it's not every day that I get to see you in a suit. You look so handsome." She turned, hugged her father's arm, and smiled for the camera.

William knew she was just saying that because he was her father, but it lifted his spirits anyway. His other daughter, Katherine, was hell on wheels, having inherited most of her mother's genes. As soon as she was out of school and eighteen, she was out the door. Except for occasional calls, mostly to talk to Natalie, he barely had any contact with her. At last contact, she was living somewhere in Texas. It still hurt the way she left so suddenly.

"I wish Katherine could have come." Natalie dropped her head a little, pretending to fix her father's lapels.

"I'm sure she would have come if she could." He knew it as a lie as soon as it came out. Katherine avoided her father as much as possible. Though he had no hand in it, she still blamed him for her mother's death.

"I wish your mother had stuck around for this occasion as well." Natalie could only nod, a single tear squeezed from her eye. She hugged her father tightly, resisting the urge to cry. William wrapped his arms around her. The memories once again, came to him unbidden.

*****

6 years ago.

William stood in the cemetery, standing next to his two special girls. Rarely did he cry but his body betrayed him today. Surrounded by family and friends, he felt so alone. His wife, after years of fighting, had finally succumbed to her demons.

He had come home from work that morning without thinking anything was different. He had walked into the bathroom adjoining his bedroom, removed his contacts, and crawled into bed. He had gotten off work around 5 am and knew he was to get up in a few hours again to take her to work. It seemed like her alarm went off as soon as his head hit the pillow.

He stretched, groaned, and started to get dress. He put on his spare glasses, the contacts being only for work. He came out of the bathroom, still hearing her alarm going off. He walked over and turned it off. He shook her gently, saying her name. 

No response.

He shook her again, speaking a little louder.

Still nothing. He noticed then that she wasn't breathing. 

He screamed. He shook her harder, yelling her name. He ran out off the room and grabbed the phone. He dialed 911 as he ran back in. Flipping on the lights, he told the operator his address and the situation. He rolled her onto her back, yelling at his wife, yelling at the operator, yelling in general.

Of course the noise awoke his children. They came running into the room to see their father trying to perform CPR on their mother. The girls screamed and began crying; asking what was going on, looking for comfort from a father who could not provide it.

He yelled at them, frustrated and panicked. He told them to go unlock the front door, turn on the outside light. The youngest obeyed while the eldest began crying harder. He told her it would be all right with little conviction. He knew she was probably already gone by the time he had gotten home, but what else could he do? She was his first love and he could not give up, even though she had.

The paramedics arrived, pushing him off to the side. He stood there, dumbfounded and disbelieving. The touch of his youngest's hand shocked him out of his state. She was scared and confused, not knowing why mommy wouldn't wake up. He knelt down and hugged her. He carried her out to the living room to join her sister while the paramedics worked.

They transferred her to a hospital but declared her dead enroute. The police asked him some questions. Since she died mysteriously, they said, there would have to be an investigation and autopsy. He understood. The husband was always the primary suspect.

Later, it had been declared a suicide. She had overdosed on her medication. The pills finally silenced the demons in the end.

Still, he stood, reliving those moments over and over again. A small hand clasped his. He looked over at Natalie, her eyes puffy and red. She smiled at her daddy and for the briefest of moments, the pain subsided. He squeezed her hand and smiled back. 

Natalie clung to her father the rest of the day, going where he did and never letting go.

*****

"Daddy?" Her voice came to him down a tunnel. He looked into the face of his grown daughter. It took him a moment to recognize that this beautiful woman standing so near him was his daughter.

"Huh? What honey?"

"Are you okay?" She clasped his hand. The way she always did when he 'went away'.

"Yeah, honey, I'm fine." He forced a smile. "Just admiring the prettiest girl here." Her bright smile flashed again.

"Hey! What about us?" cried Bailey.

"Sorry, the THREE prettiest girls here."

"Smooth, Dad. Real smooth." Natalie giggled. She knew where her father had gone, mentally, but tried as best she could to bring him back from there.

All three girls were beautiful, of course. Bailey was dark haired and athletically thin. She ran a lot of track in high school so had never developed much up top. Michelle, on the other hand, was the quintessential cheerleader beauty queen. Standing nearly six feet tall, Michelle towered over her friends. They tended to joke that they didn't really like Michelle, but got caught in her gravity field and couldn't break away.

"All right," William said, "We've got to get you guys home. There's still a graduation party to throw."

There may be nothing more annoying than three beautiful, screaming, and jumping eighteen year old girls. Then again there's not much cuter either.

*****

The party was held at William's house. Since all three girls were so close, they wanted to have one party instead of having to gone to separate ones. With only himself and Natalie living at their house, there was more room for everyone. Friends and family from all over the area came to visit on this day. William manned the BBQ while the girls navigated the sea of friends with ease.

He spotted Michelle talking with two boys near the tree in the back yard. She was leaning back sexily with one foot propped under her. The fact that she had changed into a short, frilly, black skirt didn't hurt much either. She slowly swirled her drink while talking. Amazingly, she kept both boys entertained without paying too much attention to either. She spotted him watching and smiled. They may not be his kids but he always looked out for them as if he were. She smiled, raised her glass in salute, and went right back to the boys.

Bailey was sitting on the old swing set William still had in the yard. She was talking with her boyfriend, Jacob. William liked Jacob from the few times they've spoken so he was not worried about her. She smiled and waved at William. Jacob turned, saw William, and nodded as well. 

William was uneasy. Something wasn't right. It's why he was scanning the yard. He didn't see Natalie around. He got Bailey's attention and signaled to her if she had seen her. Bailey, after glancing around, shook her head no. 

Michelle, after catching her eye as well, also shook her head no. William then heard the dog barking inside.

"Hey, Jim? Can you watch the grill for a sec? The dog's acting up."

"No prob." William handed his cooking utensils over to Jim and headed inside.

"Shasta!" he yelled. "What's the matter, girl." A small black terrier loped over to him whimpering. 

"Get off of me, Peter!"

William did not think, only moved. Sprinting to his daughter's room, he bashed in the door. Peter, Natalie's boyfriend, was on top of her straddling her waist. Her blouse had been torn open, revealing a sexy pink bra underneath. Peter stared at William while fumbling to put his dick back in his pants.

"Mr. B! Hey this isn't what it looks like, ok? We were just fooli-." His words were cut off as William grabbed Peter by the throat. He lifted Peter off of Natalie and held him against the wall, choking him.

"Isn't what it looks like? I heard my daughter shouting at you to get off of her! I find you, literally, with your dick in your hand, straddling her. What is it supposed to look like, a mother fucking tea PARTY!!!" William did not get angry often, but even he got scared when he later found out what he had done.

"Daddy don't! I'm okay." Natalie grabbed William's arm, trying to pull it away. "Please. Let him go. Don't hurt him."

William stared into Peter's eyes, nearly growling. 

"The only thing saving you right now is her. If I were you, I would leave this house and not return. If I find out you were even sniffing around her again, I will personally rip your balls off and shove them up your ass!" William, trembling with adrenaline, released Peter. 

"Get out of here, Peter!" Natalie slapped his arm. "I never want to see you again!" 

"But Nat . . ." Peter protested.

"GO!" William shouted. "You heard her! Get out of here!"

Peter stumbled and slipped as he hastily exited the room. William stood there, rapidly breathing through his nose and mouth. He opened and closed his fists several times. All he saw was red. All he heard, though, was his daughter's voice. 

"Thank you, Daddy." Natalie embraced her father tightly. She was also shaking, but with fear rather than rage. "He was partially right. We did come in here to fool around." This was not what William wanted to hear, but his rage, still burning, would not let him move. "But he wouldn't stop when I told him to. He ripped my shirt. He called me a cock-tease. He said he was gonna shove his dick in my mouth." 

Unbidden, thoughts of his daughter, on her knees in front of him, swirled through his head. The rage quickly drained off, as another type of burning began to ignite. He encircled his daughter within his arms. Not for the first time, he realized how long it had been since he had been with a woman. His body didn't distinguish that this was his little girl, just a sexy, nearly naked woman, clinging to him.

"I'm sorry, Daddy. I shouldn't have brought him in here." She squeezed him tighter. William hoped she couldn't feel his expanding manhood in his pants. 

"It's ok, honey. He should have known to stop when you told him to." He kissed the top of her head. Her hair smelled of citrus. He really liked that smell. "Are you okay? I mean, he didn't try anything . . ."

"No, I'm ok. You came in before he could do anything." She stood on her tip toes and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you for rescuing me." 

They released each other. William couldn't stop himself. He glanced down at Natalie's chest. Seeing her breathe, watching her breasts expand and contract only emphasized his need. He turned away from her.

"I'll let you get dressed." He said, walking out of the room.

"Is everything ok?" Michelle and Bailey were coming in the front door. "We saw Peter leaving. What's going on?"

"Natalie and Peter had, shall we say, an incident. I don't think they will be dating anymore." William said.

"Oh my God!" Bailey ran into Natalie's room right away. Michelle stayed with William.

"How are you? You look a little flush." It wasn't hard for Michelle to see why when she glanced at William's crotch. "Hello Little Willy. Or maybe not so little."

"Michelle!" William turned away in embarrassment. "Hey it's ok. I know the story. Nat's really sexy. You're her father, but still a man. Sometimes these things have a mind of their own." 

Michelle placed one hand on his shoulder and glided around to his front. "It's nothing to be ashamed off. Heck you should be proud of 'Big Willy' there."

"Can you please stop giving it a name?" William tried to turn away again, but Michelle wouldn't let him. She wrapped her other arm around him. Her hands slid through his hair. 

Suddenly, she gripped his head and pulled him into a very passionate kiss. Stunned, William's mouth gapped open. Michelle thrust her tongue into his mouth, frenching him deeply and grinding herself on his leg. Just as he was beginning to reciprocate, though, she broke the kiss.

"God I've wanted to do that for a long time." She was breathing heavier. She released his head only to place one hand on his crotch. "Give me a call if you ever want help with this bad boy." She gave his cock a good squeeze. "Please." She kissed him lightly one last time before heading to Natalie's room.

'Jesus' he thought. He was harder now than when he left Natalie's room. He ran to his own room and into his adjoining bathroom, shutting the door. Before he realized it, his pants were down, along with his underwear. He vigorously jerked his cock up and down, punishing it for betraying him like this. Visions of Michelle and Natalie danced in his head. He tried to focus on the ones of Michelle. Unfortunately, it was the ones of Natalie that excited him the most.

He was not stroking his dick for long, when he erupted like a fucking god. The intensity brought him to his. He hadn't felt anything like that since he lost his virginity.

"God I'm just a sick lonely freak, thinking of my daughter that way." He said. The guilt unfortunately extended, to a lesser degree, to Michelle as well. He considered both her and Bailey as his own daughters. Now to find out that at least Michelle was harboring some kind of desire for him made him only feel worse. He grabbed a towel and cleaned himself up.

"Daddy?" The knock and voice at the door startled him.

"Yes, honey?" he said, quickly fixing himself up. He opened the door to Natalie's slightly puffy face. She threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly. 

"I'm not feeling so good right now. I think I'm gonna stay in my room for a bit. Bailey's gonna sit with me." Natalie let go. She smiled briefly up at him, but he saw that it never reached her eyes. He would do anything to make her smile again, the way she's supposed to. "You and Michelle should go back to the party."

"After what just happened, I don't think I'm in much of a mood to be at a party. I'll let everyone know that you are having one of your migraines again. We'll get everyone out." He looked up at Michelle and Bailey standing behind her. They nodded. "They'll understand. If you want, Bailey and Michelle can stay over tonight to keep you company." He, disgustingly, secretly hoped they would, in case Michelle was serious about her offer.

"No that's ok. I know we had other plans, but they can go without me." Natalie turned to look at her friends.

"We can skip them, Nat." Michelle said, looking at William. "They're not that important or that fun if you're not with."

"Thanks guys, but I think I just want to be alone tonight. You guys can spend tomorrow night, ok?"

"Sure, Nat." Bailey led Natalie away again.

"She'll be ok. She'll be back to her bubbly self in no time." Michelle smiled. 

*****

It didn't take long for them to clear out the party. With Peter leaving in such a state, most attendees were very considerate of the situation. The cleaning, unfortunately, took much longer. Since it was only William and Michelle outside, Michelle used every opportunity possible to flirt with, touch, or grope William. He was very confused and very frustrated by the time they had finished.

They had just put away the last garbage bag as Bailey came outside.

"Are you guys done yet?" she asked.

"We just did." William said. "We were coming in to let you know."

"Good. Natalie's sitting in the living room. She said she wasn't going to bed until you came inside. I think she's a little more shaken by this experience than she originally let on." Bailey seemed very worried about her friend.

"Don't worry," William said, "I'll see how she's doing in the morning. If there's any problem, I'll make an appointment for her to talk to someone."

"Ok Mr. B. We'll call or stop by tomorrow. Thank you for letting us use your place." Bailey gave William a comforting hug and a peck on the cheek.

"Yeah, thanks." Michelle, on the other hand, gave him a much longer hug and a kiss, however brief, on the lips. "We'll see you tomorrow."

"O - okay," William stuttered, "Tomorrow."

The girls walked to their cars. Michelle had a certain sway to her step that caused William to stare. They both waved as they pulled away.

"Damn it." Standing on his front porch with a raging hard on, William could only curse as he had to go inside to be alone with his daughter. The daughter which he had most recently realized had blossomed into a beautiful woman.

*****

"How you doing, honey?" William had calmed down enough to walk in and confront Natalie. She was sitting on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, staring at the TV. She turned and smiled at her father.

"I'm feeling a little better. Bailey helped a bit, but I'm better now that you're here." She looked like she was had been crying.

William sat on the couch and hugged her to him. Natalie leaned her head into the crook of his neck. He only hugged her tighter when she started sobbing again. He was able to resist the thoughts in his head simply by wishing to comfort his daughter.

"You know what the worst part was?" Natalie had stopped crying after a few minutes. "It's not even what Peter did that had me so scared." She pulled away from him and looked into his eyes. William had an idea what was coming.

"It was you." She said. He had dreaded that. He knew he had an anger issue, but he nearly always kept it in check. He struggled with it constantly some days.

"I'm sorry honey. I didn't mean to scare you." William began to withdraw his arms. 

"NO!" She yelled and grabbed his arms. She put them back where they were and held them in place. "I wasn't scared OF you, I was scared FOR you. I thought you might seriously hurt or even kill Peter. I was afraid of losing you." She kissed his bare arm that encircled her front. "You're all I have left. Mom's dead and Kathy's God-only-knows-where. If you had to go to prison, I don't know what I'd do."




Resurrection



"I'm not going anywhere, sweetie." He was relieved. He didn't want to appear to be a monster in her eyes. He kissed the top of her head. They remained on the couch, holding each other for an hour or so.

"I think we need to get to bed, Nat. It's late." William got a little stiff while maintaining his position, but didn't mind.

"Ok." Natalie untangled herself from his arms. "Daddy?"

"Yes honey?" William was trying to stand when she spoke.

"Could I sleep with you tonight?"

William nearly fell over at that question. The implications based on how his feelings had altered were immense. He cleared his throat before he spoke.

"What was that?"

"I don't want to sleep in my room tonight. I know it sounds a little childish. I haven't done it since before Mom died, but I don't want to be alone tonight. Can I?" She seemed so hurt and confused. There was only one answer.

"Of course honey. Go get your pajamas."

"I'm already dressed for bed." She opened the blanket. She was wearing a white and pink baby doll t-shirt and a pair of shorts. "I'll just wait out here until you're ready." William's eyes were drawn to his daughter's slender, shapely legs. She had pink toe nail polish on her toes. Visions of him licking up her smooth legs, getting ever closer to the prize between them . . .

He shook his head, clearing his vision as he turned to his room. He dressed quickly into a t-shirt and boxers. Realizing that Natalie would be joining him, he added a pair of sweat pants, just in case. He looked at himself in the mirror, exhaling.

He didn't look so good. He had put on some extra weight since his wife's death but not too bad. He was losing the battle between his hair and his forehead. He thought about just shaving it off, but didn't quite feel ready for that step yet. He realized he just looked like a slightly overweight, middle aged man. There was no way anyone could find him attractive, least of all his daughter.

"All set honey?" He said, opening the door to his bedroom.

"Yes. Just let me get the lights." She leaned over the back of the couch to get the light stand behind it. Her cute little ass stuck out and the shorts rode up her legs. He almost exploded right there. If she wasn't his daughter, he'd almost swear she was doing it on purpose.

With the lights out, Natalie walked to the bedroom and got in on what would have been her mother's side of the bed. She nodded at William when she was ready for him to turn out the bedroom lights.

"Sleep well, Natalie." He leaned over and kissed her on the forehead before crawling under the covers to sleep.

"Good night, Daddy." She grabbed his hand and held it till she fell asleep.

*****

His dreams that night were insanely erotic. All manner of visions of women from his dead wife, to Michelle, to Natalie, romped in his head. His confusion and lust knew no bounds. There were breasts and giggles and pussies and legs. He moaned in his dreams as hands and mouths and cunts were used to pleasure him. But through it all, he only saw the bright blue eyes of his daughter. They stared at him, smoldering with lust.

He was awoken by a pressure on his stomach. Sometime during the night he had thrown off his blankets but was drenched in sweat. His raging hard-on felt constricted by his sweat pants. He then felt a hand. It lightly rubbed his cock through his sweat pants. It took him a few moments to realize that the pressure on his stomach was a head. But the only other person in the house was . . .

"Nat?" he whispered.

"Shh. Let me take care of this," was all he heard.

She lifted the band of his sweat pants over his aching cock. Only the thin material of his boxers separated it from the warmth of the hand that began to stroke it. She pumped it for a short time before removing her hand. He groaned unexpectedly. He hadn't wanted her to know how much he was enjoying it. Her hand grabbed the band of his boxers and began to lower it down.

"Don't . . ." he tried to say. 

"Sshhh," was again all he heard. "It's ok."

His cock popped up when it was released from its prison. A respectable six to seven inches, it felt it bob back and forth. He lay there, doing nothing, expecting nothing, hoping this was just a dream. That hope was dashed he felt her hand once again on his cock. This time though, there was nothing to separate them.

Her initial touch was light, tentative, and almost exploratory. She brushed it with her fingertips. It pulsed with each stroke. Her head shifted slightly lower, closer to his cock. She gingerly wrapped her fingers around it. Her hand felt so good he almost shot his load right then. Slowly, achingly, she began to pump it up and down.

"Oh God." Again, his body and desire betrayed him as he moaned lustfully. She slid her hand up to the head of his penis, rubbing around the pre-cum oozing from it. This, in turn, caused more to leak out. She began to spread it all over his cock. She again, shifted her head slightly closer to it. He could almost feel her breath move across it.

"Are you getting close?" she asked.

"Uh huh." It was all he could get out. He was surprised he had lasted this long.

She lowered her head again. This time, he felt an angle change. He jerked as he felt her tongue lick the side of its head. She swirled her tongue around the head of his prick. Using it as a handle, she leveraged her head lower again, engulfing the tip in her mouth.

"Oh Sshhiii . . ." That was the final straw as he exploded into her mouth. She held the tip in her mouth while milking his cock with her hand. She pumped and squeezed the shaft to get all of his semen out, swallowing load after load. He swore he had never shot this big a load in all of his life. He also had not had a real sexual encounter, other than his right hand, since his wife died. All of the pent up frustration and sexual tension of the past six years seemed to be sucked right out of the end of his dick. By none other than his sweet daughter, Natalie.

After swallowing all that she could, she licked and sucked his cock clean. It was shrinking now. She pulled up his boxers, then his sweat pants. She then crawled up and kissed her father on the cheek. She snuggled next to him with his arm around her.

"Thank you, Daddy. For everything." She quickly fell asleep.

William was stunned by what had just occurred. His beautiful, angelic, hurt, scared little girl had just given him the most intense, erotic blow/hand job in his life. On top of that, SHE thanked HIM for it. His emotions were tumultuous. Guilt warred with satisfaction. Fear battled contentment. Hate fought love. He didn't know how or what to feel. Eventually, exhaustion won over all and he slept.

*****

He awoke again in darkness. This was as usual since he worked nights, he had his bedroom windows covered with blinds and room-darkening drapes. He could see sunlight peek under his door. He also noticed he was alone.

Guilt had finally won the battle after last night's exploits. He felt so ashamed about using his daughter for such gross and disgusting things. Doing it with someone else's daughter, his mind told him, is ok. Not his own. He was to protect her, cherish her, and guide her. Not use her for his own twisted sexual gratification. He hadn't even realized he thought of her in that manner.

Truthfully, though, he hadn't felt this good in years. Despite the guilt twisting his gut, he was mostly relaxed. He had slept so peacefully. 

A soft knock at the door abruptly brought him out of his self-deprecation. It opened partially, then fully as Natalie saw he was awake. She was smiling angelically, the sunlight from the living room shining from behind her.

"I've made some eggs and bacon if you want." She said. "Come and eat." Then she laughed, realizing the innuendo in that statement. "Well you've done the first part, now it's time for the second part."

"Natalie, we have to talk. About last night . . ." he started, but was immediately silenced by her change in demeanor.

"Don't. There's nothing to talk about." She didn't say it cruelly or as if she was upset. "I don't regret anything that happened last night and you shouldn't either. We both needed the comfort. I knew exactly what I was doing and who I was with." A sudden thought popped into her head. "Oh God! You hate me now, don't you. The very vision of me disgusts you, doesn't it." She looked ready to cry.

William leaped from the bed to grab his daughter. "Don't say that." He looked into her eyes. "I could never hate you. You don't disgust me at all. I think you're beautiful."

She smiled again at his words. She wrapped her arms around his neck. 

"I was so afraid you'd hate me, Daddy. I don't think I could stand it if you did. Thank you." She went up on her tip toes and kissed him softly on the lips.

"We still need to talk about this." William said, extracting himself from her embrace.

"Fine, but we eat first." She grabbed his hand and led him to the kitchen.

Breakfast was a quiet affair. Both William and Natalie were a little tense despite smiles that were flashed across the table. William finished his meal and looked up. Natalie seemed preoccupied, like she wanted to say something but didn't know how to say it. She wouldn't even look at him. He sat there for a moment and was about to speak when she spoke.

"It happened." She blurted.

"What?"

"Last night. It happened and I don't want to pretend like it didn't." Natalie finally looked into his eyes. 

"Natalie . . ."

"No, Dad. I know what I did. It was something you needed. You've always been there for me, now I want to be there for you." Natalie stood up and began pacing. "I know you haven't had sex since mom died. I'm worried because every year I see you get more and more depressed. You may hide it around others but I live here with you. You can't always hide it from me. Even Michelle and Bailey have seen it on occasion." 

"It's just not that simple, Natalie. I'm your father. This cannot be."

"Why not? Why can't I be both your daughter and your lover?"

"Because it's wrong! You are my daughter. I can't take advantage of you like that."

"I'm old enough to make my own decisions, father. It would be different if I was like twelve but I'm not. The law considers me to be an adult, why can't you?"

"We've both been through traumatic situations, most recently with Peter. It's not unheard of for people in those situations to develop unhealthy attachments. We should resist these feelings."

"But Dad . . ."

"No buts. End of discussion. This is not going to happen again." William strode off towards his room but was stopped by a familiar sound. He turned to see Natalie crying again. His resolve weakening, he walked back to her. She embraced him as he came near.

"It's not just for you, you know." She sobbed. "I want to feel loved. Not as a daughter, but as a woman. I've had sex before," she felt him tense at that statement, "but I've never been made love to. My first time hurt and the guy feel asleep right after he was done. I ended up at Michelle's house because I had nowhere else to turn."

"You could have talked to me." William said.

"Yeah right. 'Hey Dad! I just had sex and it sucked.' That would have gone over well. You probably would have hunted the boy down." She giggled.

"You're probably right." William smiled.

"That's why I want to be with you. I know you love me and would protect me from anything. You would never hurt me. Please, Daddy?" Natalie looked up into his face.

William saw her eyes. Tender and warm, they were filled with nothing but love. He had not thought to see that look on another woman's face ever again. In that instant, his resolve failed completely.

He placed his hand s on her either side of her face, leaned in, and kissed her lips. But not as a father would do it, but as a man in love would.

"All right you win. But we still can't tell anyone about this, ok?"

"I know, Daddy." She smiled wickedly. "How about a repeat of last night?"

Natalie dropped to her knees in front of her father. She rubbed his cock thru his sweat pants. She smiled again as she felt him get harder under her touch.

"Oooo. Someone's happy for the attention. I bet he wants to come out and say hi. Right, Daddy?"

"Yes." His throat caught as she pulled down his pants and shorts. She gripped his cock at the base and began kissing the head. She kissed her way down the shaft to her hand then stuck out her tongue and licked her way back up. Her pierced tongue sent extra sensations over his shaft. She did this several times causing William to shudder in delight.

"Now it's time for my breakfast." With that she engulfed the first couple of inches of his shaft in her mouth. Her wet and warm mouth slathered over his cock. William tilted his head back, moaning. If it wasn't for the pressure of her hand on the base of his cock, he probably would have cum by now. He looked down at his daughter as she tried to swallow as much of his dick as possible.

William loved getting blow jobs. Unfortunately, his wife didn't like giving head so it had been quite a while since getting one. It turned out that his daughter was an expert at it.

"Jesus," he said, "Where did you learn to do this so well?"

"Thank you for the compliment." She stroked him slowly as she spoke. "But there are some trade secrets that I cannot divulge at this time. I will, however, demonstrate them." She then swallowed him down, removing her hand, and touching his pubic hairs with her nose.

William had never been so fully entrenched in a woman's mouth before. The sensation was nearly overwhelming. Then Natalie grabbed his hands and placed them on the back of her head. She grabbed and massaged her father's ass. She used the handholds to start him thrusting into her mouth. 

Ecstasy. Pure, unadulterated ecstasy. If heaven existed, this is what it would feel like. The fact that it was a beautiful eighteen year old girl only amplified his pleasure. It also being his daughter just made it more wicked.

"Oh God, honey, I'm gonna cum." He looked down at her.

She looked back up into his eyes. They sparkled beautifully. She only smiled and began sucking him harder. She wiggled her tongue back and forth causing her piercing to rub the underside of his cock. Her other hand was between her thighs, rubbing herself mercilessly.

"Oh! Here it comes, baby!" She pulled back just so the head was all that was left in her mouth. She began her own orgasm as she swallowed load after load of her father's cum. She whimpered.

"You ok, honey?" His concern warmed her. She swallowed the last bit and said, "I'm fine Daddy. I was just enjoying myself too." She stood, still holding his softening cock. She stuck her hand down the front of her pants. She pulled it out and brought it to his lips. "I just wanted you to taste what you did to me." 

He opened his mouth and tasted his daughter for the first time. It tasted sweet, like nectar from an untouched flower. He grabbed her hand and made sure she could not remove it before he licked every little bit off.

"There's more where that came from, if you want it." She smiled evilly. He had never seen that look on her face before. He nodded dumbly."Then follow me." She let go of his penis and led him by hand back to his bedroom.

They embraced again in the bedroom. William's hands roamed up and down Natalie's slender body. He couldn't resist tickling her under her arms eliciting a sweet giggle from her. Their lips met fiercely as they squeezed each other tighter. Their tongues dueled. William now understood why people might pierce their tongue, feeling Natalie's for the first time in his mouth. What a wonderful sensation, he thought.

William's hands grasped the hem of Natalie's shirt. Understanding what he wanted, Natalie released him and lifted her arms. Swiftly, William removed her shirt, leaving Natalie with only the sexy pink bra she had been wearing yesterday. She reached back to unclasp it but William stopped her.

"I got it," he said. Deftly, with one hand, he had it undone.

"Impressive. The old boy hasn't lost his touch." Natalie hunched her shoulders forward and slid it off. "I hope you like them." She moved her arms baring her breasts.

"They're perfect." He said, gazing at Natalie's perky breasts. They were not huge, which was fine with him, just about a handful with little, pink, upturned nipples on the end. Lustily, William latched on to one as if dying of thirst. 

"Oh shit yeah! Suck 'em! Suck your baby girl's titties. Fuck yeah!" William had never heard his daughter speak like this before. It only spurred him on more. He switched to the other breast and swirled his tongue around her nipple. He sucked it into his mouth and gently bit it while flicking the tip with his tongue.

"FUCK!" She mashed his head to her chest, holding on as an unexpected orgasm hit her. William couldn't move his head, not that he wanted to, and continued his ministrations till she let go.

"Holy shit! That's never happened to me before. You better take these off before I soak them." Natalie panted. She placed his hands on her shorts.

William abruptly pulled away from her breast. He looked Natalie in the eyes, silently asking her if she really wanted to continue. A moment's hesitation was all there was before she nodded yes. William hooked his fingers under the waist band of her shorts and panties, pulling them gingerly to the floor.

William remained there, kneeling on the floor, staring at his daughter's pussy. She was mostly shaved with about a two finger width blond landing strip extending up from the top of her cunt. He leaned forward and inhaled, closing his eyes.

"You smell so good. Good enough to eat." He grinned, pushing her back onto the bed.

She fell back with a girlish yelp, causing her legs to pop up. William caught her knees before she could bring them down. Slowly, he spread her knees apart, looking into her eyes. Natalie whimpered in anticipation. William's gaze shifted down between her legs.

"Beautiful. . ." he whispered. He leaned forward and blew softly across her moist lips. Natalie inhaled sharply at the sensation. William kissed her left thigh tenderly, then her right. Natalie wiggled her butt on the bed.

"Please . . ." she whispered.

"Hmm?" William lifted his head up with a grin.

"Please. Don't tease me." She said.

"Who's teasing." William leaned in and swiped his tongue from bottom to top, along her lips. Natalie arched her back and moaned. William then shoved his tongue inside her pink folds, causing her breath to catch in her throat. It was released as a low growl as her father licked and sucked at her cunt. Her orgasm built rapidly.

"Yes!" she cried, "Yes, yes, yes, yes, YESSS!" She grabbed William's head as he started to suck on her clit. Her orgasm crested over her like a tidal wave. She squeezed her thighs together, trapping her father's head. William simply continued abusing her clit until her shuddering subsided.

William took a deep breath having been released from her legs. His face was covered in her juice. He stuck his finger into her, scooping out more of her juices. He sucked his finger clean, reveling in the flavor.

"Now what do you want?" William grinned.

"Please." Natalie propped herself up on her elbows. "Just do it."

"Do what?" William dropped his pants.

"I want you . . ." she begged.

"Want me? To do what?" he dropped his boxers, freeing his engorged penis. Natalie's eyelids closed part way.

"Fuck me." She whispered, continuing the game.

"You'll have to speak up." William rubbed the head of his cock along the entrance of her pussy. "I'm a little hard of hearing in my old age."

"I said fuck me." "What?" He lightly smacked her clit with his penis.

"Fuck me, God damn it!" she screamed.

"If you're gonna be crass about then maybe I should just go." He began to pull away from Natalie. Quickly she wrapped her legs around him.




Resurrection



"Please, I'm sorry. Please fuck me, Daddy. I need you sooo bad. Please?" she begged.

"Oh. Well since you asked so nicely." William guided his cock head to her entrance again. He hesitated momentarily before slowly penetrating her.

Natalie lay back, her mouth open in a silent moan, as her father's cock inched excruciatingly inside her, filling her like none before. It just felt so right. 

She had been in love with her father for so long. He was always so tender and caring as she grew older. It would have been difficult for her not to fall for him. Even in this, her most vulnerable of situations, he was so gentle and loving. She would do anything for him, was doing anything. Giving him what he needed, what she wanted.

William grunted as he reached full penetration. He was encased in his daughter's velvety warmth. It had been so long, William just stood there. He was so close, but he didn't want it to end so quickly. Natalie could feel his tension. She just smiled, relishing the sensation of having him inside her finally. 

After a minute or so, William slowly pulled back out. Natalie frowned, feeling empty.

"Please. We can make love later. Just fuck me now. I'm so close . . ." she cried softly.

"As you wish." William thrust into her, causing her to yelp in pleasure. That sound, more than anything, caused him to speed up his thrusts. Every time he thrust into her, she yelped.

"Unh! Unh! Ah! Uh! Ah! Oh god yes!" she cried. "Oh I'm gonna . . . Aaaahhhh!" The intensity and suddenness of her orgasm caught her by surprise. She curled up, clenching her stomach muscles and grabbing William's arms. She released a beastly growl, feeling it come from somewhere primordial within her.

The spasming walls of her pussy set William off. He slammed into her, holding her hips tightly. He now understood the term 'cumming like a freight train'. His knees shook as he spurted load after load of cream into his sweet daughter. They grasped each other in mutual orgasm.

Natalie collapsed first, falling back onto the bed. Then William fell forward onto her. They were both breathing hard. William propped himself up and looked his daughter in the eyes. There were unshed tears of joy and satisfaction there. He was on the verge of crying in gratification as well.

"Wow." A voice came from the doorway behind them. William and Natalie froze. They hadn't thought to shut the door when they came in here. Neither of them wanted to look away, knowing the moment was lost but not wanting to let go.

Finally, William straightened and tore his eyes form Natalie. In the doorway stood Michelle.

"Michelle . . ." William began.

"Don't even try to tell me that this is not what it looks like." She held up her hand.

William hung his head in shame. He was at a loss for words. There was no explanation for what had been going on.

"It's about time." Michelle smiled. William's head whipped up in shock. He looked at Natalie. She was shocked as well.

"What are you . . .?" He turned back to Michelle. His limp cock slurped as it fell from Natalie's gooey cunt. Embarrassed, he tried to cover himself up.

"I knocked but no one answered. I guess you were a little busy. How about I let you two clean up then we'll talk." Giggling, she winked at them and shut the door.

William was stunned. Michelle hadn't seemed to mind that she had just caught her best friend fucking her own father. It was almost like she had expected it.

"Daddy?"

Her voice broke through to him. William looked back at his daughter.

"You're not upset, are you?" She placed her feet on the floor and stood. "I'll explain when we get out there." She hugged him, fiercely. After a moment, he hugged her back.

"No, I'm not upset. I'm just a little shocked, that's all." He squeezed her a little tighter then released her.

"Don't worry," she beamed at him beatifically, "everything's gonna be fine." She turned and walked into the bathroom for a couple of towels.

*****

Michelle sat on the couch with a cup of coffee. She was going over, in her head, what she was going to say. She was more surprised that they had finally gone through with it. Natalie had mentioned one drunken night just how much she loved her father.

Michelle had known them both since she was thirteen, shortly after Natalie's mother died. Michelle had recently moved in with her grandparents. Her mother was a drug addict and she had never known her father. She immediately bonded with Natalie in Jr. High. They, with Bailey, were the closest of friends from then on.

When Michelle finally met Natalie's father, she was smitten immediately. He was so nice. He was attentive to both his daughters. He tried to do everything and anything for them.

Michelle disliked Katherine because she would always cause problems. Arguments, uncontrolled crying, fighting with her sister over stupid things. She was glad when Katherine moved, but sad as well. She knew how much William cared about his daughter. 

The night Katherine left, Michelle was spending the night at Natalie's place. She had left the room to get a drink. She saw William sitting in front of his computer, his hands covering his face. She stood still not wanting to disturb him. She flinched when he reached for a tissue. He wiped his eyes and took a deep breath. That brief glimpse behind the walls of his feelings sent her tumbling head over heels in love with him. 

She figured it would pass. After all she was fourteen at that time, but as time progressed, so did her feelings for William. He treated her like his own daughter. He was there when Bobby Thompson broke up with her at the school dance a year and a half ago. She called and he picked her up. He just held her in the school parking lot as she cried.

She wanted to marry William someday if she could. Anything to ease his heartache. So she was surprised when Natalie admitted her feelings for him. Michelle had stolen a bottle of wine from her grandparents .They had almost finished it, when William came up in conversation.

"I know he's my father, but I can't help it." Nat looked at her friend. "He's so manly and tender, loving and strong. And I know how much he loved my mom. He still visits her grave every year on their anniversary. No man with that much love and heartache should be alone."

"What are you saying, Nat?"

"He needs someone." She looked back down. "I'm afraid . . ."

"Afraid of what? Tell me." Michelle was worried now too.

"I'm afraid he might do something to himself. He'd never admit it, but I can tell he's depressed. When I graduate and leave for college, he'll have no one left here with him." Natalie began crying. "What's gonna happen to him after I've gone?" Natalie hugged her friend.

"He's a strong man. He'll be ok." She said with minimal conviction.

Michelle knew that William had not seriously dated since his wife died. In fact, for the past couple of years, he had completely given up on finding someone else to be with. He concentrated on making their last few years of high school the best possible.

Natalie was right. No man like that should be left alone.

Michelle smiled. She was jealous that Nat got to him first. Michelle had decided to get with William since she was staying in town for college. This summer she was gonna make her move but Nat beat her to the punch. She had made her move yesterday when she kissed William. She just never expected Nat to move so quickly. There was only one solution.

*****

Michelle looked up as William and Natalie walked out of the bedroom. They all were a little uncomfortable. At least they were all dressed this time. Natalie held William's hand as he walked over to the couch and sat down. He tried to remove his hand but Natalie resisted.

"No." was all she said. She looked at her best friend.

They say silence is golden. It can also be heavy, intimidating, and foreboding. All of these feelings settled on William as his daughter and Michelle stared at each other. He glanced between them, not knowing how to fix this.

Then, Michelle smiled. Natalie smiled and jumped up. They embraced laughing and giggling. William sat stunned. Of all the reactions he had expected, this was not the one.

"I'm sorry but am I missing something here?" he asked.

"Well yeah," Michelle said, as Natalie turned around, "but you're a guy so we expect it." Her smile was dazzling. She glanced at Natalie. Natalie nodded slightly. They both then sat next to him on the couch. 

Again he was stunned by the actions of these two girls. Check that, women. Very beautiful women.

"First of all," Michelle began, "I'm very upset with you, Natalie."

Natalie suddenly blanched but recovered when Michelle started laughing.

"Not about having sex with your Dad, silly. About getting to him before I could." William's eyes went wide at this statement. They went wider still when Michelle grabbed him for another soul searing kiss. William broke this kiss by standing up and moving away.

"Whoa. Hold on a minute." He turned back to see his daughter and her friend kissing softly on the couch. Whatever he was going to say flew out of his head.

"Wha . . .?" Even that was too much for his overloaded mind expel.

"What's the matter, Daddy? Cat got your tongue?" Natalie grinned, breaking her kiss with Michelle. "Or should I say pussy?" Michelle giggled.

"What the hell is going on?" William said.

"Before you get upset, this was not planned." Michelle said. "Natalie and I had had sex with each other a couple of times before. She had already told me of her feelings for you." William glanced at his daughter. Her smile was divine with a hint of naughty.

"During one of our 'encounters', I happened to call out your name." Michelle blushed at this admission. 

"More like scream it." Natalie snickered. Michelle continued undaunted.

"I've been crushing on you since I was fourteen. It was a couple of years ago that I think it turned into love. But now that I'm eighteen, I can show you how I really feel." She stood.

"Wait. Please just wait a minute." William said, holding his hands up. "Why? What have I done to deserve this?"

"What do you mean?" Michelle was a little confused. She thought he would be happy knowing two young girls loved him, even if one was his daughter.

"It's not that I'm angry, just confused. A gorgeous young woman," Michelle blushed again, "admits her love for me just after catching me having sex with my equally beautiful daughter." Natalie blushed this time. "You have to admit, it's a bit much to take in all at once."

"Dad," Natalie spoke first as Michelle sat down, "I know you've been feeling depressed lately."

"I have not . . ." William interrupted but Natalie stopped him.

"I can tell. I've lived with you for eighteen years. You hide it better than Mom did but I can still see it." Natalie had a glazed look on her face. "I don't want to lose you like I did Mom. I don't think I could handle it."

"I've seen it too." Michelle said."I didn't really notice until Nat admitted her worries to me, but after that, I saw it clearly. I think of you as the father I never had." Michelle looked at him. "But I was hoping we could be more than that. You're the kind of guy any sane woman would like to marry." She hesitated for a moment. "I'm finding myself to be very sane right now."

Both William and Natalie were taken back by this revelation. William knelt on the floor in front of them before his knees gave out. 

"I'll admit I've never been the same since your Mom died." He stifled his own emotions stoically. "She was my first love. But I let her down." He hung his head. "I couldn't save her. Lately, I've begun to think that nothing could have, that we were just delaying the inevitable. I had hoped she would survive past your graduations at least."

William looked back at his two girls. He had to admit he did sort of think of Michelle as his daughter. They leaned forward and clasped his hands.

"But you needn't worry about me. I'll be fine. I would never kill myself." He said.

"Maybe not quickly," Natalie said holding his hand tighter, "but you would do it slowly, pining away in misery until you just gave up. All the while telling me you're fine. Well we're not going to let that happen." Michelle nodded.

"Until I leave for college, I'm going to do everything I can to make you happy. And after I leave, Michelle will still be here for you as well."

"Always." Michelle gripped his hand tighter.

"That's sweet, but you . . ." William protested.

"No 'buts'. This is the way it's gonna be from now on." Natalie said. She forestalled any further argument by pulling him forward and kissing him fiercely on the mouth.

"But . . ." he tried to say.

"You heard her. No 'buts'" Michelle then planted her lips on his. When they broke, he was breathing hard.

"Well, maybe not 'NO butts'," Michelle grinned at her word play. She placed her hand on his crotch, feeling his stiffness. "Besides, I think you've been out voted three-to-one."

"I don't deserve you two." He said, hugging them.

"Maybe, but let's not dwell on that." Michelle smiled, heat flaring in her eyes, "I just hope you saved some for me." She shoved her hand down William's pants and grasped his cock. "I can't wait to feel this inside me."

Michelle, having intimate control of his actions right now, kissed William hard on the mouth. He opened his mouth as her needy tongue charged in. They wrestled orally, giving and gaining no ground either way. They parted after a few minutes, a line of saliva connecting them briefly.

"He seems willing." Michelle took Natalie's hand. "Shall we?"

"I thought you'd never ask." 

*****

William stood at the foot of his king sized bed. He watched as his daughter and her girlfriend kissed passionately. They made quick work of each other's shirts. While Natalie had about a B cup sized breast with perky pink nipples, Michelle's were somewhat larger, probably C cup (William never really understood the whole cup size thing), with gorgeous light brown nipples.

Michelle bent to suck on her friend's breast, while Natalie thrust her chest out. Michelle wiggled a finger at William. As he got closer, she motioned to her bra, wanting him to remove it. He unclasped it and Michelle shrugged it off. Without removing her lips, Michelle grabbed William's hands, pulled him onto the bed, and wrapped herself with his arms.

"Oh Daddy, Michelle is so good at this." Natalie grabbed handfuls of Michelle hair, holding her tight against her chest. "I love it when she does it." Michelle only increased her ministrations on her friend.

William began massaging Michelle's breasts. A slight whimper from Michelle told him she approved. They felt so good in his hands. He kneaded her flesh like dough. He removed one hand briefly to brush her hair out of the way and began kissing her neck and back. Michelle released Natalie to moan and lean back into William, giving him better access to her neck. This allowed Natalie access to Michelle's breasts.

"You know," Michelle whispered to William, "your daughter is pretty good at this too." Natalie removed her father's hand from Michelle's breast. She attacked it like a mad woman, eliciting a satisfying purr from Michelle. "I can't even number the times she's given me an orgasm."

William ground his cock into the cleft of Michelle's denim covered ass. He reached down to undo her jeans. Feeling around, he noticed she wasn't wearing any panties. He was also slightly surprised to feel no pubic hair either.

"I've had so many fantasies of you, William." Michelle confessed. "But I admit that this was one that I thought would never come true." They faced each other and kissed deeply, her arm snaking around to hold his head close. 

Natalie pulled away and stood up on the bed. She quickly removed her clothing. She then grabbed Michelle's hands and stood her up, breaking her kiss with William.

Natalie knelt down, placing Michelle's hands on her shoulders. She leaned a little to the side, winked at her father, and pulled Michelle's jeans down. Steadying herself on Natalie, Michelle stepped out of them and wiggled her but in William's face.

"Geez, it's almost as if you two planned this whole thing." William commented.

"Yes and no." Natalie stated. "I think we were both planning on seducing you." She glanced up at her friend, who nodded. "It's just a coincidence that it turned out to be on the same day." She giggled while running her hands up and down Michelle's legs.

"You better take those off before you sprain something." Michelle stared intensely down at William. He backed off the bed and pulled off his pants, allowing his cock freedom again. He climbed up onto the bed again but Michelle pushed him down onto the mattress.

"I can't wait any longer." Michelle knelt between his legs and immediately engulfed his cock with her mouth. William groaned as Michelle expertly worked his cock over. He was already very excited so he did not last long under her hungry ministrations.

"Oh Fffuuuuu. . .!" He didn't finish before he came. Michelle tried to swallow all of it but some leaked out the side of her mouth. Natalie was right there, licking up what she could. With a gulp and a breath, Michelle removed her mouth with a satisfying sigh.

"Fuck, that was awesome." She looked at her friend and grinned. "Do you want to go first or can I?"

"I had my turn." Natalie smiled. "You go ahead. I'll go if there's anything left."

Michelle turned back to William, never having removed her hand from the base of his cock. She jerked and teased him back to full hardness. She placed her legs on either side of his hips and slowly lowered herself onto him.

"Oh thank you, God!" The culmination of years of repressed desire was reached as she fully engulfed his member in her cunt. William was confused for a minute as she just sat there. He then realized she was climaxing. Silently whimpering, her head hung down as her body trembled. He glanced at Natalie, concern clear on his face.

"Don't worry," she said rubbing and stroking Michelle's back, "some of her most intense orgasms have started this way. Just give her a minute."

Michelle's trembling subsided. Her beastial gaze bore into him. She lifted herself up and slammed herself down. Rapidly gaining speed, she bounced up and down on William's stiff cock. 

At first, he let her control the pace. But as his orgasm built, he grabbed her hips and started adding his own forceful plunges. Together, they quickly approached their peak.

But it wasn't through their actions that they were brought over the top. Natalie, still sitting behind her friend, took her hand from her crotch. It was covered in her own juices. She used those and some of Michelle's to lube up Michelle's sphincter. She rubbed it all over her friend's asshole and slipped a finger inside.

"OH GOD YES! Another! Stuff another one up my ass! Fuck, I love it!" Natalie complied, shoving a second finger into her friend's ass. Michelle screamed as her orgasm overpowered her and she held herself on top of William. 

William could feel his daughter's fingers through the thin membrane separating him from her fingers. The additional stimulation, along with Michelle's shuddering climax, sent him blasting into orbit. He had never thought he could cum so much and so often in one day. 

Michelle collapsed on top of William panting in exhaustion. She could feel his seed leaking out of her. 'Oh no,' she thought, 'he came in me!' She tried to get off of him, but was too weak. Instead she flailed ineffectually.

"What's the matter?" William asked.

"I'm not on any kind of protection! In the heat of everything, I forgot to grab the condom in my jeans!" She started crying.

"Hey, hey. There's no need to worry." William stroked her back lovingly.

"Why not? I'm not ready to be a mother, even if it is yours."




Resurrection



"Calm down. You won't get pregnant." William smirked a little.

"Oh god, you came in Natalie too! What if she gets pregnant? Could they send you to jail for impregnating your daughter?" Michelle was blubbering.

"It's impossible for either one of you to get pregnant from me." Michelle stopped now, confused. "I had a vasectomy shortly after Natalie was born. About six weeks later, the doctor confirmed that I was sterile."

"Oh thank god!" Michelle exclaimed.

"Now that that's done, do ya mind moving over?" Natalie pushed Michelle off of her father. "I need to clean you guys up."

Natalie leaned down and stuck her face between Michelle's legs. She licked and sucked her father's cream from her friend's pussy. Michelle quickly built to an aftershock as her friend cleaned her up. Natalie stuck her tongue in as far as possible to get all of the gooey richness out.

She then turned to her father. He had gone mostly limp due, in part, to the drama of the situation. She started with his balls, licking every inch clean of their combined juices. When she got to his penis, she noticed a little stiffness had returned.

"Oooo goody! Do I get another turn?" she said leaning over to suck him clean.

"I can only try, honey." William closed his eyes, reveling in the sensation of her tongue on his cock again. Within a few minutes, he was hard again.

"Now for your special treat, Daddy. Wait right here." Natalie ran out of the room.

"What's going on?" William asked Michelle.

"I don't know. But at least I get to make out with you some more." She grinned wickedly.

Natalie returned to find Michelle straddling her father, his cock rubbing on the outside of her ass cheeks. They were making out vigorously.

"Hey," Natalie slapped Michelle's ass sharply, "It's my turn now."

"I was just keeping him up for you, that's all." Michelle whined.

"Whatever." Natalie held up a bottle of KY lube. "Are you ready, Daddy?" Natalie hopped onto the bed on all fours, her ass facing her father. She squirted some of the lube onto her fingers and smeared it over and into her asshole.

"Whoa. Are you serious?" William was surprised at his daughter's display.

"Oh yes. I've never had anyone in my ass before. Well, no one's cock anyway." She glanced back at Michelle. "I think it is only right that you should be the first." She rubbed more of the goo over her ass. It shined under the bedroom light.

William, dumbfounded, got up to his knees and walked towards Natalie's sexy ass. He was as hard as an iron bar. He placed the head of his cock at the entrance of his daughter's back door. He hesitated for a moment.

"Oh please, Daddy, don't tease me." Natalie whined. "I can feel you waiting back there. I need you in me sooo bad. Please!"

Michelle came up from behind William. She wrapped one hand around his chest and another around his cock. "Let's do her together." She whispered. She pushed her hips forward, pointing William's cockhead towards Natalie's tight rear. Together, they pushed and with an almost audible pop, he slipped inside. Natalie immediately tensed at the invasion.

"Go slowly," Michelle whispered as she placed both hands on William's hips. William could not believe how tight it felt around his cock. It took nearly all of his concentration and willpower not to blow right there. As Natalie relaxed, they began to push slowly into her a few inches at a time.

Finally, William's hip met Natalie's ass. He waited there, enjoying the heat and tightness of her forbidden hole. Michelle, still holding his hips, slowly drew him back out. Natalie was panting heavily, overwhelmed by the sensation. He pushed in again, then pulled out, moving a little faster each time.

"Oh shit, I'm gonna CUM!!" Natalie screamed. Michelle then started thrusting her hips into William's ass, forcing him to thrust faster into Natalie. Together, Michelle and William pounded Natalie's backside mercilessly. Natalie's arms collapsed as her climax overtook her.

Michelle, her clit rubbing against William's ass and being so excited over her chance to 'fuck' Natalie, quickly caught up to Natalie, moaning her own release. Michelle fell back, leaving William to finish fucking his daughter's ass.

Despite having cum a few times that day as it was, the convulsions in Natalie's ass set him off like a rocket. He slammed his hips into her, jetting a spray of cum into her bowels. Feeling her father's orgasm, Natalie was set off again, screaming and jerking spasmodically. Her hips gave out causing William to collapse on top of her. He rolled to the side so she could breathe, his dick exiting her rectum with a small pop.

All three of them laid there for several minutes, exhausted.

"If you two keep this up, I'll be dead within a month from a heart attack." William sighed, "At least it wouldn't be a bad way to go." They all chuckled.

*****

"Good morning, Daddy." Natalie looked up at her father. 

"Good morning, sweetie." He kissed her lightly on the forehead.

"Did you sleep well?" she smiled knowingly.

"It's been a while since there has been anyone but myself in this bed. I'd forgotten how much I enjoy having company."

"I hope I can sleep here more often." Natalie absently played with hair on William's chest.

"I think it can be arranged, but it might get a little crowded."

"I should hope so," came a new but familiar voice, "I certainly intend on spending more time in it." Michelle walked into the bedroom carrying a tray with coffee, milk, and toast.

"You're definitely more than welcome." William sat up to accept the tray. Michelle scooted under the covers next to him. They sat in silence for a while, finishing their sparse breakfast.

"Daddy?" Natalie spoke, looking at the cup in her hands.

"Yes dear?"

"You're not upset with us, are you?"

"What? Why would I be upset with you?" William asked incredulously.

"Well. . . I am your daughter. And I know you treat Michelle the same as me, like another daughter." Natalie hesitated. "This isn't the usual way family members express their feelings. Especially feelings they're not supposed to have for each other."

William grabbed both Michelle's and Natalie's hands. He kissed one, then the other. He paused for several seconds before answering.

"You were right, you know. I didn't realize it until last night. I was rather depressed with my situation. I'm not the type of person to commit suicide, but I would have died much sooner." He stared vacantly toward the wall. "Basically, I had given up. My wife was dead. My oldest daughter hated me. My youngest was leaving."

"But . . ." Natalie spoke.

"I would be alone." William continued as though Natalie hadn't spoken. He turned to his daughter, looking into her eyes. Those beautiful blues that had shown him such love and compassion. "But you and Michelle have brought me back from the brink. I can never thank you enough for what you have done." He kissed her lightly on the lips. Natalie's eyes glistened from unshed tears, hugging her father.

He turned to Michelle and kissed her lightly, saying, "Both of you." Michelle sighed and cuddled closer.

Suddenly, Bailey appeared in the doorway, her arms crossing her chest. "Great. Everyone's happy. Now can we go shopping?"

*****

The summer passed too quickly for William. While he had many pleasurable times with Natalie and Michelle, he was simply happy to spend time with them before college began. August came and suddenly there was no more time. William helped his daughter pack her things. He would not see her again until Christmas break.

"I'm scared but excited too, does that make sense, Daddy?" Natalie loaded the last of her things into the van.

"In your case honey, it makes complete sense." William smiled. She was quiet for a moment, then looked up at him. He saw a familiar look in her eye.

"We've had this discussion," he said sternly, "you are not staying here. It was a wonderful few months, but we both knew it couldn't last." He hugged her tightly as a tear rolled down her cheek. Tears that also threatened to fall from his.

"I don't want to leave you alone." She embraced him fiercely.

"I won't be that alone. Michelle will still be going to school in town and I will always have my memories of these last few months." He smirked. "Well except for last night anyway."

Natalie blushed profusely. They had gotten very drunk last night, a going away party for her, just the two of them. They had fucked and gone wild, but in the end, just before falling asleep, he held close. Close as if they were just a man and woman. 

He pushed her back for one last look in her eyes.

"Know this. I am so very proud of you. I never left this town. I don't think I could. But you were meant for greater things and you can't do them here. So go, have fun, met a nice guy, and learn a thing or two." He swatted her butt and pushed her toward the van. "Go. Or we'll both start crying and I might not be able to let you go." 

"Okay, Daddy. I love you."

"I love you too, sweetie."



Resurrection



Okay...I'm back - it has been only four months or so, but it seems alot longer. This story is somewhat autobiographical although nothing so bad has happened to me in real life, but I hope it catches the spirit of the last several months. It is also the first time I've tried to break down the so called "Fourth Wall," and I'm curious as to your impressions. Remember, it is a work of fiction. (However, all stories mentioned within are part of my writings here at Literotica.)

Enjoy and please fire off those comments - your feedback is what inspires me the most.






I splurged on a taxi ride from the bus depot, staring at my home town with the same eagerness and sense of wonder I'd had on the seven hour bus ride up Interstate 75. Who knew that two years of staring at gray concrete walls would leave someone so starved for color? Even the garish, neon colors of the fast food restaurants looked good to me. Focusing on the passing scenery also helped occupy my mind and help me to not think about how nervous I was. Of all the people I had to face now that I was free again, Mom would be the hardest.

The taxi pulled up in front of my mother's home – the house I grew up in. A modest tract house in a huge neighborhood filled with identical houses, each now made distinctive by forty years of passing time. Trees towed overhead – trees that had been saplings when I was a young child aching for trees big enough to climb.

I paid the driver and slung my duffle bag over my shoulder and began to walk up the sidewalk. The front door opened up and behind a screen door stood my mother and I paused, uncertain whether or not to continue.

Mom looked pretty much the same as the last time I'd seen her, just before the trial began. Mom was fifty now – I'd missed her birthday by three months. She wore her years well, her fair skin almost without flaw and wrinkles. The drab housedress she had on seemed to make her look dowdier than she really was. Mom has a matronly figure – big bosomed and large shapely hips and although she is thickening in the middle, she still has a curvy, reubenesque figure. Mom had her hair cut short, almost in a pixie cut and only her hair betrayed her age and perhaps the stress of the last few years as her black hair was liberally laced with gray. Mom's dark brown eyes glistened wetly as she looked me over like I was a stranger.

Mom opened the door and gave me a nervous, uncertain smile before she said, "Well, John, come on in."

I got my feet unstuck and came on up the sidewalk and onto the porch. I felt my throat trying to close and barely was able to stutter, "Hi, Mom." I tried looking her in the eye, but I felt my face flush and embarrassment flood over me. I wanted to turn around and run like hell. The only problem was I didn't know where else to go.

Mom's troubled smile stayed on her face, but she reached out and squeezed my shoulder and then leaned in and said in a voice as choked up as mine, "Welcome home, son." She used her hand to propel me forward and I stepped into the house of my youth, looking much as it had when I was a child, big, overstuffed sofa and chairs, a relatively new television and pictures of family – Mom, Dad and myself at various stages of my youth. There was an empty space on one wall that was lighter than the rest roughly the size of a picture or to be more precise, a wedding portrait. I gave thanks for small mercies.

When the door was closed, I dropped my duffel bag to the floor and turned to face Mom who was studying me intently. Silence and tension filled the air as Mom looked me over. Mom reached out and ran her fingers through my hair. She smiled again, more sad than nervous as she said, "You're going gray, son. You've got more gray than me now."

I shrugged, still not sure I could open my mouth without breaking down and bawling like a baby Mom stepped closer until she was almost in my arms and said, "Are you okay, John? All that time...all that happened, are you okay?"

I took a long, stuttering breath and as I let the breath go, I replied, "I'm fine now, Mom...now that I'm here." And then I started to cry and Mom's arms were around me and we were both crying and I never felt so glad to be somewhere in all my life.

After we both ran out of tears, Mom told me to take my things down the hall to my old room and get unpacked and cleaned up while she got dinner together. Wiping my eyes, I could only nod and do as she asked me to.

As I walked down to my old room, my head was full of churning emotions. Embarrassment still threatened to overwhelm me even as I struggled not to let my body react to being embraced by a female...any female in over two years, but especially by my mother. I let my mind turn to recent memories of being on the inside to quell the erection that was half-formed in my slacks.

I tried to focus my attention elsewhere and found distractions in my old bedroom. At age thirty-three, I had been on my own for almost fifteen years and Mom had long ago turned my old room into a guest room. My sports memorabilia, kung-fu posters and twin bed had been replaced by a queen size bed and a mature and tasteful bedroom suite. As I put away my few possessions into a bureau drawer, I realized how dispossessed I was...my history in this room erased like my life had been.

Back downstairs, having washed a day's travel off me, my mood brightened considerably as Mom demonstrated that one thing had not changed and that was her cooking. To most folks, I reckon that meat loaf and mashed potatoes wouldn't be that big a deal, but most folks never had my Mom's meat loaf and mashed potatoes, topped off with a big slice of her pecan pie! After more institutional meals than I ever want to remember, Mom's cooking was pure ambrosia and I made a pig of myself while Mom looked on with a pleased expression on her face.

Still, there was a distance – a gulf between us – something that etched tension on Mom's face as she rambled on about family doings that I'd missed over the past few years...a something that both of us seemed reluctant to bring up. 

Mom shooed me away when I offered to help her with the dishes, instead insisting I keep my seat and drink another glass of her sun tea while she cleaned the kitchen up. A lot of awkward silences ensued before Mom finally worked up the courage to ask me, "So, John – is it all that over now? You don't have to do anything else?" Mom's shoulders shook as she spoke, facing away from me as she washed dishes. There was fear and worry in her voice.

I made sure I had my voice under control before I replied, "It's done. The conviction is being expunged from the record despite the district attorney's objections. The appeals court's ruling is final and I won't face any further charges." I didn't know how relieved I was until I said it aloud and could hear it in my voice.

Mom's body shuddered with what I hoped was relief as well and then she said, "What about you and Lisa? Have you talked to her? Is there any chance..." 

She left the rest unsaid as I let out a weary sigh. "No, Mom, we're done. The divorce was final over a year ago. Her lawyer told my lawyer that she wants nothing to do with me. The shysters are working out a new settlement on the sale of our house now." I shook my head in disgust. "I just want to move on, Mom. I've had two years to fall out of love with Lisa. I'm not pissed at her any more. I just want to rebuild my life."

Mom turned and looked at me – the pain and confusion as evident on her face as it had been two years ago when I'd asked her not to attend my trial. I could see the struggling emotions on her face as she replied softly, "I'm so sorry, John. I wish – maybe if I'd done things differently after your father left us..." She ducked her head and spun around – not fast enough for me not to see the tears.

I wanted to go and wrap my arms around my mother, but I was frozen in my seat, feeling frustrated and impotent and embarrassed. I could hear the inadequacy in my voice as I said, "It's not your fault, Mom. It's no-one's fault."

That was a lie of course. All of this was my fault. Almost three years ago, my then wife, Lisa went and found religion in a big way. Then already knowing my predilection for internet pornography, Lisa did some snooping on my laptop and discovered my secret life as Ahabscribe – writer of incest fiction. Along with my many stories, Lisa found other folks' stories and my collection of incest cartoons, hentai, and explicit photos and videos. And she went insane over it. 

Lisa decided I was some sort of child porn purveyor despite the complete lack of actual child porn and she turned my laptop over to the local police department which agreed with her that I was some kind of sick pervert and before I knew it, I was under arrest and completely disgraced. I lost my job, my friends gradually faded into the woodwork, especially as the incestuous nature of my writing and collection emerged.

Lisa began divorce proceedings even before the trial began. My pride in my writing struggled with the sudden embarrassment of being portrayed as the "Incest Pervert" in the local media and worse of all – I hated the attacks and recriminations thrown at my mother as ugly speculations were tossed her way. The last time I had seen Mom was just before the trial when I had insisted she not attend – to distance herself from me for her own well being.

The trial was a slam dunk guilty verdict. Despite not finding one piece of actually illegal material, I was found guilty of trafficking in illegal pornography and sentenced to twelve years in prison. With a final swing of his gavel, the judge finished destroying my life and off to a Georgia penitentiary I went.

For the next two years, my lawyer worked towards an appeal while I counted the days inside a minimum security facility. Two weeks ago, my conviction was overturned and the prosecuting attorney censured for not exercising proper perspective for whatever that might be worth. As I sat there in Mom's kitchen, I knew that there would a coming settlement for wrongful conviction, but due to the lurid nature of the charges, my lawyer predicted it would be a pittance compared to what I'd lost.

Suddenly I realized Mom was standing over me, her hand on my neck as she again repeated that she was so sorry – "If I'd raised you better...if you'd had a father here, maybe it would have been different."

I broke free of my enervation and came to my feet and in a teary voice repeated, "Mom this isn't your fault. This is all on me. I never dreamed my feelings and fantasies would cause you this kind of pain!" I wrapped my arms around Mom and pulled her tight and for the second time that day we shared a good cry, embracing tightly. Despite my guilt at the pain I had caused her, part of me was aroused by the situation. I could feel Mom's heavy breasts, restrained by her bra, heaving against my chest, creating in me feelings that I hadn't allowed myself to feel in years. I felt myself hardening as Mom's belly bumped and pressed against my groin area. My head started to spin as I felt myself grow light-headed in my excitement.

Mom, I think, must have felt my growing arousal too as she abruptly broke our embrace and stepped away and around the table, wiping her eyes as she moved. She laughed half-heartedly and said, "You must think I'm ridiculous carrying on this way."

I let out a shuddering sigh and sat back down, trying to hide any evidence of my erection as I rubbed my eyes, my face wet with my tears. "No, Mom. It...I know it had to be tough on you – all the embarrassment of having a pervert for a son and it all being on television and in the papers."

Mom's face reddened a bit and she frowned as she replied, "No, John. I know you're no pervert. Things get...well, they get confusing." Mom turned away and went back to her dishes and things went very quiet for a bit. Finally, Mom glanced up at the kitty-cat clock on the wall, its tail and eyes moving as they had when I was a little boy. "I think the Tigers are on the television tonight. Why don't you go watch while I finish up in here?"

I sensed that Mom wanted to be alone for a few minutes and having calmed down enough so that there wasn't an obvious bulge in my pants, I took my tea and went into the living room and turned on the TV, sitting in the old recliner chair as I had when I was a kid. The Tigers were playing the White Sox, but my head wasn't in the game despite having dearly missed baseball while I was in prison. My mind was on Mom and what being near her was doing to me. I hadn't considered that when I had called her after learning I was to be released and asking if I could come home until I got things sorted out.

I hadn't really known who else to turn to afterwards. Lisa was long gone, returning to her native Maryland and all my "friends" had made it clear I was no longer welcomed around them. And despite being cleared of the charges – I had no desire to stay in Georgia one minute longer than necessary. Mom had remained the one constant in my life – sending me letters filled with hope and love, never mentioning the circumstances of my incarceration, but remaining the one beacon of hope within my cold, gray world.

Mom came in with fresh cups of coffee and sat across from me on the sofa and we both pretended to watch the baseball game for a long time. I hadn't even bothered to turn the volume up. The silence was almost deafening in and of itself. We each traded uncomfortable glances with each other.

"I guess we need to talk about this," Mom said suddenly, her gaze suddenly fixed intently on me, reminding of times when I had gotten into trouble back in high school. I was reminded of the time I wrecked her car and she had interrogated me calmly in this very room until all the truth came out.

I took a deep breath and nodded, finally replying, "I suppose so. It's like the elephant in the room, isn't it?"

Mom smiled then, one of the first untroubled smiles I'd seen on her face since I walked through the door. It brought out her beauty so much it made my heart ache. Then her expression became more serious and she said, "So, you're fascinated with incest?" 

I shrugged, feeling my face begin to burn. "Yes – some might say it's more of an obsession to me."

Mom nodded and said, "Is that why you used the name Ahabscribe? Ahab was an obsessed man and you love to..."

"Write – yeah – in part anyway. I um, loved the idea of incest – of family members in love and lust and making love. I have always imagined that family love would be more intimate, more intense than any other type of relationship and it captured my imagination...I guess." From the heat on my face, I knew I had to be blushing – my face a deep shade of red. My heart was pounding so hard it almost hurt. I couldn't believe I was having this conversation with Mom of all people.

Mom's face was red too, but there was a look of intense curiousness in her expression. "And all the things they found on your computer – incest?"

"Yeah, Mom, most of it was. Most of it was related to incest. Cartoons and such. A lot of it was Japanese cartoons, what they call hentai."

Mom said, "Yes, I know what hentai is, John." 

She looked at me expectantly and I went on. "Um yeah, well, cartoons and drawings depicting incest and other people's supposedly true stories and lots of fiction and lots of photographs of pretend incest and maybe a few real pictures and some videos – there's a lot of fantasy incest stuff out there on the net. Some of the videos were adult movies like the Taboo stuff and some of it was more or less amateur."

Mom was silent for a moment, biting her lower lip as she appeared lost in thought. I idly wondered if she knew how sexy she looked when she did that. Finally Mom went on, "And most of this – this incest porn that you had, it wasn't about fathers and daughters or brothers and sisters, it was about mothers and sons?"

I suddenly realized that I had only thought I was blushing before. My face was so hot now I was amazed that my skin didn't ignite. "Yes, Mom," I said in a tight voice. It was mostly about mothers and sons."

Mom shivered violently as if we were in a deep freeze even though the room seemed suddenly extremely warm to me. "Son, how long have you been obsessed about mother and son incest?"

I thought for a few seconds and shrugged my shoulders. "I'm not sure, Mom. It seems like forever...since I was a teenage anyway."

Mom shivered again and suddenly hugged herself – trying to find comfort and maybe warmth in her own embrace. She dropped her gaze – looking at the carpet as she said, "Were your fantasies back when you were a kid about me...about you and me?"

I was silent for long seconds. Mom finally raised her head to look at me, her brown eyes boring intently into me – trying to understand who and what her son was. "Please, son – answer me."

My throat felt dry as I rasped out. "Yes, Mom – it was about you from the first – since I first understood what was happening to me in puberty. I always loved you. I have always been in love with you."

Mom's face grew redder and there was an expression on her face unlike any I'd ever seen before as she replied, "And lust. You lusted for me...you wanted me sexually."

Feeling so light-headed I thought I might faint, I said, "Yes. I dreamed of us together. I dreamed of your body...touching you, kissing you, fu-fucking you."

Mom closed her eyes tightly as if trying to tune my words out. "You've been thinking about this – about us all these years – even while you were in prison?"

"Yes, Mom." I whispered.

Mom, eyes still closed, continued, "And now, right now, are you still imagining us being lovers?"

"Yes, Mom," I whispered again, my voice hoarse and scared. If Mom threw me out of her house and out of her life, I would be truly alone.

Mom's eyes snapped open and again, I couldn't read the expression on her face. Mom stood up and walked away from me, going over to the mantle and looking at pictures of us – a pictorial tour of a mother and son over three plus decades. Not looking at me, Mom asked, "Why, John? Why did you develop these feelings for me...for us?"

I paused again, trying to put into words what I'd felt all my life. "I don't know, Mom. I'm not sure I'll ever know for sure. I just have always loved you. Maybe it's because after Dad left, it was just me and you against the world and we were always so close. Maybe it's because you're so beautiful...I remember the first time after puberty hit that I saw you naked..." 

I stopped speaking as Mom's head turned quickly around to look at me, her eyes burning with emotion. "Yes? Keep talking, John!" she said in a husky voice.

"Um, I guess I was twelve or so – I'd just started getting serious hard...um, erections and one afternoon I walked in on you in the bathroom just as you were getting into the shower. You were completely naked and beautiful and I surprised you and you just stood there in shock, one foot resting on the edge of the tub." I paused, seeing it again in my eyes and Mom raised a hand to her mouth and I saw the recognition in her eyes and knew that she remembered that moment too.

"And then?" Mom prompted.

"I don't know – I guess it was like seeing the real you for the first time – seeing you as more than my mother – seeing you as a woman. Your breasts were so incredible, full and round and your bush – I never knew a woman could be so hairy between her legs." I paused, taking a deep breath, wondering if this was all a dream – me talking like this to my mother. 

Mom stared at me expectantly and I continued, "It seemed like I stared at you for hours, but I guess it was just a few seconds and you finally laughed and said, 'Okay, buddy, scram. Every woman has them – tits and pussy, it's no big deal,' and I hauled ass out of there and back to my room." I stopped again, unsure of whether to continue, but Mom didn't even need to speak. Her face communicated her desire to know it all.




Resurrection



I swallowed and said, "I was so hard, Mom. I think it was the first time I'd had an erection because of you specifically and I didn't really know what I was doing, but I rubbed my dick and stroked it and then I came for the first time. The first time I shot a load of sperm, I was thinking of you, Mom."

Mom just stared for what seemed forever and then she walked shakily back to the couch and sat down, breathing heavy and then after letting out a long sigh, said, "Love and lust coming together for the first time." She stopped and studied me. "But not for the last time." It wasn't a question, but a simple statement of fact.

"No, Mom – it was just the beginning for me. I've always had this special feeling for you. I had my crushes and loves – Ramona, Terri, Cassie and Lisa, but I never stopped loving you and dreaming of us..."

I stopped speaking as Mom slowly shook her head. "All those years and I never had any idea. I knew we were close – that you loved me a lot, but not like that." Mom looked at me and there were tears in her eyes and a look of confusion. She opened her mouth to speak again, but all she could say was, "I never had a clue."

We sat there in silence as the baseball game played on, the only sounds being our breathing and for me anyway, the drumming beat of my own heart. Finally, I began to apologize again, but Mom held up her hand – an old gesture of hers for, "Shut the hell up!" Silence reigned for what seemed an eternity. Mom again studied me...for what I don't know. Then she looked down at the carpet again as if in contemplation.

"I've read your stories, John." Mom said suddenly. She was again looking at me. Again, I felt a wave of dizziness sweep over me – the idea of my mother reading my incestuous writings filling me with horror and wonder.

"My stories?" I replied, feeling numb.

Mom nodded and said, "Yes, your stories – at least all that are on that Literotica place on the internet. After everything that happened and you were locked up, I wanted so much to understand it all and so I looked them up and read them...all of them."

"Oh my God," I whispered. Images from so many stories raced through my mind – images of Mom re-imagined as a wanton slut for her son – images of Mom engaged in every sort of sexual act with me and with other women – images of Mom begging me to make her pregnant. Even in the stories of mother-son incest where there was no physical resemblance to Mom, her spirit inhabited each of those characters.

Mom began to speak, paused, a small smile emerging on her face as she finally said, "You certainly can write. I couldn't believe how vivid your descriptions were. You certainly seemed able to describe my body in detail." A scolding frown crossed her face. "Just how many times have you seen me naked?"

I started to laugh, but wasn't sure if Mom was trying to be humorous or not. "Um, I don't know – I guess over my teenage years, maybe a dozen times – mostly glimpses."

Mom arched an eyebrow. "Mostly glimpses?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "I came home early from school one time my senior year and you were sun-tanning naked on the patio. I was um, real quiet and you never knew I was there."

Mom laughed – a happy laugh that seemed to take a lot of tension out of her. "Oh Christ! I can't believe you did that! How long did you peek at me? Did you masturbate while you spying on me?"

"Uh, yeah, I did – twice in fact. You were asleep I guess. I must have watched you for at least an hour."

Mom nodded to herself. "Well, I guess that explains how you can describe me so well." She stopped again as if collecting her thoughts. "And the sex...you write so graphically and so intensely. I never imagined anyone writing about making love or just fucking so precisely and getting the sensations so dead on accurate."

Mom looked at me sharply. "And why do you write so much from the mother's point of view – from my point of view?"

I felt my face burn anew and some small part of my brain wondered just how hard a man could blush and not die. It took a bit of time for me to answer. How to put what I felt into words? Finally, "Mom, I guess I like to write from your point of view because..." I took a deep breath. "Because imagining you so head over heels in love with me, imagining you wanting me as both son and lover, imagining you cumming with my um, cock buried inside of you is the most erotic thing I can imagine."

Mom's face seemed to lose all color for a moment and then quickly turned a bright shade of red again as she processed my answer and after long minutes of thinking about it, could only reply with a quiet, "Oh."

More minutes passed. The ballgame ended and was replaced by some old comedy show rerun. People ran around in seemingly helter-skelter fashion on the screen, reflecting my churning emotions. Mom finally spoke up again. "This is going to sound weird, but you really write with a lot of passion. It was so strange reading these stories and knowing that you were really writing about me – so intensely sexual and yet loving, almost like you were worshipping me in some lewd and erotic way."

I nodded and bravely offered up, "Yes, worshipping you is something the writing represented. In a way you are my religion, Mom. Mostly, I guess my stories were meant to be love letters you were never meant to see."

Mom closed her eyes and sighed. "Love letters. Love letters from a son to his mother." Mom laughed again – the laughter more bitter than before. "Love letters you couldn't show me, but the rest of the world got to read."

"I'm sorry, Mom. I suppose I should have kept them private – never putting them on the net, but...I couldn't tell you how I felt, but I wanted – I've always wanted to tell the whole world how wonderful you are and how much I loved you and how much I wanted you." 

I didn't realize until I said the words aloud how badly I wanted to say it – how badly I had always wanted Mom to know how I felt. I was amazed at the sudden sensation of a burden lifted from my heart. If Mom told me to leave this very instant, I could live with it – at least I could leave knowing she knew how I truly felt.

Mom shivered again and she let go with another sigh – this one more passionate and one that seemed to draw the tension back into the room. She closed her eyes again as if trying to pay no heed to the emotion thickening in the room. "Well, I suppose you got your message across. I read the readers' comments – they really liked your stories."

My turn to laugh as I responded, "Well, some of them did. Some people thought I was a no talented pervert-slash-creep!"

Mom frowned. "Now that's not true," she responded. "Most of the people who made comments seem to love your writing. They thought it was erotic and nasty in a good way and romantic." I looked at my mother in amazement. It was almost as if she were taking pride in how people had liked my work.

Mom gazed at me steadily, her gaze resolutely meeting mine. "I read your stories, John. I've read them over and over again and son, your readers are right. Your stories are erotic and nasty and so romantic!"

I rocked back in my seat, feeling like I'd been smacked with a baseball bat. "Mom?" I gasped.

"John, I've been trying to understand you and all this since you were arrested. I went online and read your stories and I couldn't believe how they made me feel! Even now I feel scared and confused, but god help me, reading about Carrie and John or any of the others, fucking with abandon, losing themselves in each other's sweat and flesh and cum, from the first, John, from the fir..." Mom's voice broke and she let out a sob and I leapt to my feet, but Mom held up her hand to stop me.

Mom regained control and continued in a halting voice. "From the first, son, as I read your stories, they did something to me. I've never been so excited, so turned on as I was reading about your mothers and sons – no, about you and me fucking and loving each other so completely." Mom smiled up at me – love and desire now dominating her expression – looks I'd never dreamed I'd actually see – at least directed at myself. "For close to two years, John, I've read your stories over and over, playing with myself, making myself orgasm to your words...imagining it was you making me moan and cum and until today I never truly understanding that it was you making me cum."

"Mom, what are you saying?" I almost sobbed – my voice husky with emotion.

Mom's hands slipped up shakily to the top buttons at her neck. "I'm not sure, son. I've tried to imagine this moment for months. I guess I'm saying..." Mom paused and swallowed and summoned up a come hither smile as she began unbuttoning her housedress. "I guess I'm saying, would my son like to see his mother's breasts again?"

I took a hesitant step towards my mother as she undid button after button until her bra encased breasts were exposed. Mom paused in unbuttoning her dress and spread the dress wide, exposing her chest – her cream colored heavy duty bra seeming to barely be restraining her meaty breasts which were heaving with the excitement of the moment. "Well, John – do you want to see Mommy's titties again?"

"Oh yes!" I moaned, taking steps towards Mom, not believing this was really happening as I sank to my knees before my mother.

Mom smiled lovingly at me as her hand fluttered about her bra – then with an almost unseen flick of her hand, she undid the front loading bra and the cups sprang apart and Mom's heavy breasts fell free. Mom's tits were enormous – larger than in my youth as over the years, Mom's weight had increased a bit. Their size had yielded somewhat to gravity and they sloped entrancingly like two large gourds on her chest, capped by thick, nickel sized brown nipples, now erect and pulsing with excitement. A hint of last year's tan line revealed the skimpiness of her swimsuit. 

Mom's breasts were gorgeous and I stared at them with love and an almost religious awe and was so transfixed in their presence that I almost didn't hear Mom say softly, "Go ahead, son – touch them – kiss them if you want."

One second I was staring at my mother's tits and then my hands were full of her soft, warm flesh and my face was buried in her cleavage, inhaling the sweet aroma of Mom's skin – sweat and perfume and something else...something almost indescribable but which made my stiff and aching cock pulse with need.

I kneaded Mom's breasts – squeezed and caressed, teasing stiff, rubbery nipples with my fingers before my mouth discovered them and I felt more than heard Mom's low groans and I ran my tongue over her nipples, tasting and licking and sucking and then feeling gratified as Mom gave a loud gasp of pleasure when I nipped at the blood engorged tips with my teeth. Somehow I had always known my mother liked having her nipples bitten and now my suspicions were proved correct.

As I nibbled on Mom's tits, my hands roamed over them as well and then upwards to her shoulders, pushing her housedress off and at the thought of Mom's bare shoulders, I slowly began to kiss my way upwards, running my tongue along the valley of her cleavage and then kissing her upper chest – now covered in a sexual flush while my hands returned to caress her meaty breasts. I kissed my way along her naked shoulder until I reached Mom's neck which I kissed and nibbled until finally I rose up to face Mom – our lips, noses and eyes as close as could be without touching.

We seemed surrounded by utter silence as if the moment were too holy to be profaned with the spoken word. I saw hungry permission in Mom's eyes and fulfilled a lifetime dream as I leaned forward and pressed my open lips against Mom's mouth. Her tongue was waiting to greet mine and again my cock throbbed as for the first time I experienced the sacred thrill of French-kissing my mother for the first time.

I felt the sudden need to cum – almost exploding into orgasm as Mom's tongue curled around mine – its heat and wetness and eagerness representing Mom's newly revealed desires all by itself. We both kept our eyes open – seeing the need and love we had for each other reflected as we kissed and kissed and kissed. A part of me realized that if nothing else happened – that if Mom changed her mind, I would still die a happy man.

The kiss seemed to last nearly forever – ending only when Mom gently pushed me away. I leaned back on my knees to gaze of the erotic sight of my mother, a silly grin on her lovely face and her chest heaving mightily as she whispered huskily. "I dreamed about that, but never imagined it would be so...so..."

"Good?" I supplied, surprised by the giddiness in my voice. "The best kiss I ever had, Mom!"

She grinned and replied, "Me too, but I'm guessing we can do even better!" She licked her lips and took a deep breath and then continued. "But first, I was thinking, maybe my son would like to get another peek at Mommy's pussy?" Her hands fluttered down and pulled her housedress away from her lap and thighs, revealing her slightly meaty thighs. She spread her legs to show me plain, white cotton panties opaquely concealing a dark shadow between her legs. 

I groaned as I realized that in the center of her crotch was a large and visible wet spot – teasingly making the cotton material almost but not quite transparent. I shivered as I struggled to maintain control over my aching cock. I ask you, what son wouldn't struggle to not cum at the vision of his mother wet with arousal...wet because of him?

"John, why don't you take my panties off for me?" Mom said in a breathless voice. I didn't hesitate for a moment, moving in and slipping my hands under the elastic waistband of my mother's panties. Mom lifted herself up as I slowly pulled them off of her, drawing her legs back together as I eased back, my gaze torn between seeing my heart's dream between her thighs and admiring the womanly curves of her legs.

When I had her panties in my hands, almost absently, I brought them to my face and inhaled Mom's lush scent as I had so many times in my youth with her undergarments swiped from the hamper. Mom's strong scent of sex made my head swim and my blood course through my body with a new urgency.

Then almost shyly yet teasingly, Mom slowly spread her legs again and I heard myself sigh, "Mom, I love you" as I beheld fully the glory of my mother's hairy cunt. Between Mom's luscious thighs nestled a thick, black pelt of hair – curly and glistening with her arousal and with two thick lips blossoming out from it like a lush lily from the fertile earth.

I don't remember moving. Suddenly I had my face buried in Mom's furry muff, reveling in the feel of Mom's bush tickling my face – soft yet scratchy as I inhaled her scent from the source – so strong I could taste it as well as smell it. I nuzzled and rubbed my mouth against Mom's hairy pussy, my movements becoming more forceful and needy with each passing second. My nose and lips found slick and wet flesh and her labia spread and parted and my tongue was delving deep into my mother's pussy and I sobbed with happiness as I tasted the sweet nectar of Mom's love cream for the first time.

Mom's body quivered violently – seemingly all around me as she drew her thighs in, trapping my face between her legs – I felt her feet cross and come to rest on my back and my muffled ears still heard a plaintive cry as I fed my long denied hunger for the place of my birth. I felt Mom's fingers intertwine in my hair as I lapped and kissed her wet cunt, drinking her heavily flowing juices like a man dying of thirst.

I explored Mom's pussy with my mouth, blindly discovered the delightful shape of her cunt lips with my tongue and then exploring until I found her clitoris, a long and swollen thing emerging from its hood to be kissed and gently caressed as Mom bucked her pelvis against my face. Her flood of cunt cream became a raging torrent – splattering my mouth and face with her juices as Mom screamed out her pleasure again and again as I licking and sucked and kissed her until my face was raw and my jaws ached pleasurably. I thrilled in the knowledge that Mom was having her first orgasm from my actual touch and the only lack of joy was from the idle thoughts of wishing I could have seen Mom orgasm the first time she had read one of my stories.

Finally, I felt Mom go limp – her legs falling away from me allowing me to hear her feeble gasps for breath. With regret I fell back myself, face dripping with Mom's love juices only to have my breath taken away by the vision before me. Mom naked – her short, black and pepper hair wet – her body gleaming with fuck sweat – meaty breasts heaving and rolling with each breath she took – nipples so painfully swollen they looked ready to burst and legs spread wide, her pussy lips spread wide revealing her gleaming wet flesh. 

A more erotic sight I had never before seen and I am not ashamed to say that the sight of my mother still in the throes of a son induced orgasm was more than I could take and with a sob of joy, I exploded in my pants! I shook and quaked as I struggled to stay on my knees as I shot jet after jet of hot sperm in my shorts, feeling my hot gooey seed spreading around my groin., gasping, "MOM! Mom, I love you!" as I had a sweet Mom induced orgasm of my own.

Mom's eyes grew wide as she realized what had happened and she struggled to sit up, saying, "Baby – John...did you...? Oh, son – did I do that to you?"

My joy began to mix with regret as I fully understood what had happened and I said, "Mom – I'm so sorry, I...I didn't mean to..."

Mom flew off the couch laughing and babbling as she pushed me off balance and onto my back. "Oh, John. Did Mommy being all nasty make you cum?" She began scrabbling at my belt and zipper. "Did you fill your shorts with hot jizz, son? I have to see that"

My shoes and socks went flying and then Mom was tugging off my slacks, a great eager grin on her face and hunger in her eyes. Roughly she yanked at my shorts, pulling them off me and then she drew up short, kneeling there between my legs. Here gaze locked onto my now naked crotch – my still mostly erect penis smeared with my sperm, thick white blobs splattered on the head and smeared along the shaft with other big drops of my seed splattered in my pubic hair.

Mom gazed longingly down at my cock for a long time and then looked into my eyes, a fiery expression on her face that promised so many forbidden things. Then Mom held up my briefs and peered at the globs of semen splattered and smeared on the cotton fabric. As if imitating my earlier actions, Mom brought my underwear to her face, inhaling deeply before saying. "I almost forgot what a man really smells like," she sighed. Mom gave me a sideways glance and grinned as she added, "And what he tastes like!" 

I groaned and my slowly shrinking cock suddenly jerked with excitement as I watched my mother act as lewdly as any of my fictional mothers as her tongue snaked out and lapped up a thick blob of my semen from my shorts. Mom closed her eyes as she let my seed rest on her extended tongue for several seconds as if savoring the taste before she swallowed it. Opening her eyes, Mom moaned and whispered. "Better than I ever dreamed, John. I want more!"

Mom dropped between my legs, taking my recovering cock in her hands, smearing her fingers with my sperm and cooing to herself in delight at the amount of jizzum I had shot. Holding my cock within tongue's reach, Mom looked up at me and said, "I haven't had a lot of experience with sucking cock, baby, I hope Mommy doesn't disappoint!"

Believe me, Mom didn't. Enthusiasm made up for inexperience and I was transported to a level of pleasure I'd never known before as Mom took me into her mouth and began sucking and licking me – cleaning me of my spent juice. I groaned as my sensitive flesh was scoured clean by Mom's warm, loving tongue. Mom's eyes stayed on my face, only closing when she made moans of contented joy as she ate my sperm.




Resurrection



My fingers clawed the carpet as Mom made love to my cock with her mouth – her tongue lovingly exploring the length of my shaft, swirling about the head and then racing through my pubic hairs to lick up smeared glops of semen before she returned to sucking me vigorously. Now in my thirties, I'm nowhere as virile as I was as a teenager, but just the vision of my own mother sucking my cock clean of my sperm was more than enough to return me to a long, throbbing erection.

Mom finished with a lewd wet smacking of her lips and then scrambled upwards along my body, her heavy breasts and hard nipples dragging deliciously along my skin. Then we were kissing again, our faces smeared with each other's juices – tasting each other as we kissed and held each other tight.

"John, I dreamed of this moment – of this all working out, but I never imagined..." Tears began to stream down Mom's face as the emotions of the moment overwhelmed us both. "I love you, son!"

I felt my own tears burning trails down my face as I answered, "I know, Mom. I love you too!" before showering her with kisses. 

We lay there on the floor kissing for a long time, our hands stroking and caressing – both of us feeling our desires build. Finally, Mom reached down and stroked my stiff penis and looking into my eyes said almost shyly. "John, will you please take me bed and make love to me?"

My heart, already beating fast, speeded up at the thought and I somehow managed to whisper, "Oh, Mom – I've waited my whole life for you to ask me that!"

Somehow we got to our feet, never really untangling ourselves from each other. We slowly made our way out of the living room and into the hallway still in an loving embrace – our lips locked in a passionate kiss, Mom walking backwards, her hand firmly wrapped around my cock as we moved, stroking me gently. She led me past my bedroom and into hers. Candles were already burning – some already burning low, casting the room in a dusky romantic light and there was a hint of jasmine in the air. 

Mom's bed was turned down and I realized that she'd come in and gotten things ready earlier while I was watching the ballgame. It gave me a sweet thrill to realize Mom had dreamed and planned to become my lover for a long time. I looked at Mom with an understanding and grateful smile and as she saw comprehension in my face, she looked down, an embarrassed smile on her face.

By the time our legs hit the side of the bed and we fell on it in a tangle of limbs, I was completely naked and we squirmed and caressed and hunched against each other – unable to satisfy a hunger to feel each other's bodies. Between long, ardent kisses, we were kissing each other's bodies – my tongue swirling around Mom's turgid nipples and then Mom slipping down to shower my chest with soft kisses before rolling her tongue over my pebbled nipples, playfully nipping at them before she slithered back up my body to press her lips against mine again.

Desire and need mounted until finally I found myself between Mom's widespread thighs. I was resting on my arms, my cock lengthwise along my mother's hairy cunt – captivated by her carnal beauty – face and chest flushed red in sexual heat, Mom's tits rolling as she breathed rapidly, her short black and gray hair glistening with sweat and her tongue peeking out between her lips. I felt her full thighs scissoring against my hips, thrusting her pelvis upwards – hungry for my cock.

"Are you ready for me, Mom?" I murmured – flexing my crotch to run my cockhead through her thick thatch of pubic hair – feeling her heat and the wetness. My heart felt as if it would explode. A lifetime of dreams – of fantasy was now within grasp. I gazed into Mom's big brown eyes, seeing my own incestuous desires reflected there. Tears welled up in my eyes as my love for my mother threatened to overwhelm me.

"I can't believe we're doing this. I've imagined this moment for days, months, son and now..." Mom let out a long, shuddering sigh and licked her lips before continuing, "I want this so much, John. I want you."

My soul sang with joy, but still I hesitated, feeling Mom's labia touching the very tip of my cock trying to clasp me – draw me inside my birthplace. I needed to hear the words...words that I'd dreamed of for so long. "Say the words, Mom." I groaned. "Tell me what I've waited so long to hear."

Mom lifted a hand to my face, stroking my cheek tenderly and then in the voice that is to me the very epitome of love, said, "Son, please fuck me! Please fuck your mother, John! Fuck me hard with your....OH GOD YESSSSS!" I never let her finish as I plunged in – wanting to go slow and savor every fraction of my mother's sweet pussy, but then plunging fast and hard as I buried my cock in her wonderful creamy soft heat!

Mom threw her head back as she cried out her pleasure – her thighs pressing into me as her legs came up reflexively to wrap around my lower back – feet crossing and driving into my hips as my mother flung her pussy upwards to meet my thrust and bury me deep inside her – all in one incredible swift motion.

I felt as if every atom of my being had been hit with an intense electrical charge emanating outwards from my cock and through my entire body. My cock throbbed and threatened a second premature ejaculation as the unique and incredible sensation of being completely enveloped in her silky wet heat was unlike anything I'd ever experienced before.

Mom's vagina wasn't tight like a young woman nor was her pussy a gaping, loose hole. Mom had the muscular control of a mature woman and the delicious sensation of her cunt flesh taking me – holding and massaging me was heightened by the secret knowledge of flesh returning to its own. On the most primal level, my cock, my body, my mind recognized Mom's pussy as its place of origin. Within that wonderful, wet place was the place I was conceived and came into being and now the flesh of mother and son were joined again in a celebration of incestuous joy and ecstasy!

For an eternity, neither of us dared or wanted to move. We lay there, joined cock and pussy in the oldest expression of human love known, savoring the sharing of flesh between man and woman, strengthened in by the love between mother and son. Tears of joy fell from my cheeks to join those running down Mom's face. Silence reined as we savored the moment before finally sobs of pleasure became laughs and sighs of happiness.

Gradually we began to move, slowly rocking, producing more pressure than motion as we began to make love. We kissed, our tongues seeking to become one and our bodies seemed to meld together, flesh melting into flesh. I never felt so safe and loved as I did in Mom's embrace – arms and legs wrapped tightly around my body as her pussy kept a sweet grip on my cock.

Somewhere after an infinity of this, we found ourselves moving in perfect harmony – my cock pumping in and out of Mom's clasping cunt – the intensity of her heat matched only by the wetness of her inner flesh – an almost indescribable liquid friction that created a carnal conflagration in our joined loins that spread through our naked, slick bodies and then into our souls, consuming us and claiming us converts in a more than holy moment.

So intense was the pleasure, I wanted to do nothing more than close my eyes and be lost in that incestuous pleasure forever, but my gaze was held by the beauty of my mother, lost in the throes of love and lust, her head turning from side to side as her own pleasure overwhelmed her. Images of Mom as so many of my fictional mothers flashed through my mind – Carrie, Caroline, Corinne, Cathy, Cora – all the imagined representations of my would be love and devotion for my mother now coalescing into the real thing – the true love of my life...my Mom!

Pleasure ebbed and flowed as I fucked my mother, slowly sliding my cock in and out of her sweetly slick pussy and as I felt her carnal bliss build, I sped my motions up until I was loudly slapping into her flesh, Mom writhing beneath me as her orgasm welled up and then exploded in cries and moans, calling my name out again and again. My cock was bathed in a heavy flood of her hot creams and I struggled to keep myself from cumming and somehow resisted although it was hard seeing Mom contort beneath me, her face screwed up in ecstatic joy.

I showered her face with kisses, bringing her down from orgasm while we whispered, "I love you," to each other. I had not truly comprehended how wonderful it was to feel Mom's body, hot and slick with sweat beneath me, her heart beating wildly as she tried to regain her bearings. I tried to speak – to tell Mom how special this moment was, but I found myself choking up and Mom kissed me on the lips and stroked my face with shaking hands as she softly said, "I know, John. Mommy understands. I love you too, son!"

Mom then began to respond again to my cock buried deep in her pussy, rolling her hips and caressing me with her hands and urging my hips into motion with her legs, pulling me into her and we began to earnestly fuck. With each stroke of my cock, we both became more intent and feverish...lust overtaking love until the headboard was banging against the wall as we fucked – my cock sliding into Mom's wet, fiery pussy hard and fast.

I ducked my head to Mom's breast and sucked and bit her swollen nipples, drawing cries of delighted pleasure from her lips. Sweat poured off both our bodies, soaking the sheets and the sweet odor of sex – of pussy cream and perspiration and cock grew thick in the air even as the need for both of us to cum grew inside both of us. Our moans and sighs became more animalistic as we lost ourselves in incestuous carnality.

Orgasm came to me without warning and I gave a loud cry as I began to ejaculate thick spurts of hot semen as I began a long downward stroke. I sank myself deep and ground myself into Mom's crotch as I pumped thick wads of jizzum inside her hungry cunt.

Mom's eyes grew wide as she felt me cum inside her and the reality of the moment – realizing that it was her son...her own child who was filling her womb with his seed, crashed over her and she gave a cry that was part love, part disbelief and part carnality itself and surrendered to her own orgasm, this one making her earlier climax pale in comparison. We clung tightly to each other as incestuous orgasms swept us away, kissing and crying as we became one perfect thing living in the perfect moment of orgasmic bliss.

We came down from that Olympian high together, hanging onto each other for dear life as the pleasure ebbed – never quite ceasing as aftershocks of delight made both of us shiver with every little movement of our joined bodies. For the longest time words just seemed unnecessary as we just reveled in being joined as lovers both body and soul. We both kept our eyes open as we kissed, our tongues engaged in a slow and lazy dance, while we basked in the warmth of the love reflected in each other's gaze.

Eventually I felt myself soften and slip from Mom's wet and warm grasp and I slipped off her and we cuddled facing each other, still kissing – the silence punctuated by quiet whisperings of love and commitment to each other. We fell asleep in each other's arms – my last thoughts being of Mom and feeling alive for the first time in years, almost as if I had been resurrected and in truth, that was what had happened. The terrible end with Lisa, the years in prison had left me dead inside – my soul a wasted and shriveled thing. Now...now the love of my mother had brought me back to life – she had resurrected me into a new world full of promises and hopes. I went to sleep dreaming of that new life – a life I knew I would be spending with my mother.

When I woke, a late morning sun was shining through Mom's bedroom windows. I felt better rested than I had in a long time and a smile slipped over my face as I stretched and remembered the incredible night...the first of many nights I planned to spend with Mom. I was alone in bed. On the bedside table was a glass of orange juice and a bagel liberally smeared with cream cheese. A little note sat next to it and in Mom's handwriting it read, "Eat up – you're going to need your strength!"

I could hear the sound of a shower running in Mom's bathroom and I felt my cock stir at the sweet image of Mom – naked, her skin soapy and wet. I reached for the food, suddenly feeling ravenous and was just finishing the last bite as the shower stopped. I heard Mom humming then and smiled as I recognized the tune – the old Tammy Wynette song, "Stand By Your Man."

Then Mom appeared – her voluptuous body wrapped in a bath towel. "I see you're awake, son!" Mom said, sounding pleased. "I was afraid I wore you out last night!" She leaned against the doorjamb and smiled down at me while I eyed her mostly bare legs – full and shapely. Her short hair was wet and spiky – almost like a punk rocker. She looked good. "Any regrets, John?"

I shook my head and replied, "Not really, Mom." I paused and then grinned. "Well, I reckon I wish I was about ten or fifteen years younger and we'd see who would wear out who then!"

Mom laughed and with the hand not holding her towel together, wagged a finger at me. "Oh, I think you'll do just fine. You've got a lot of good motherfucking loving to catch up on!" I felt my cock quiver and begin to fill out. Who would have guessed it would be a turn-on to hear one's mother talk like that! 

Mom glanced at the still subtle movement under the sheet and grinned evilly. "Speaking of motherfucking...ta da!" Mom let the towel around her fall free and I groaned appreciatively. I knew then I would spend the rest of my life enjoying the sight of my naked mother. Mom struck a sexy cheesecake pose and I felt myself harden as I studied her from head to toe.

Again, Mom's short hair – what we used to call a pixie cut suited her – especially with that wet, spiky look. Mom's fair skin glowed pinkly in the aftermath of her hot shower. Her breasts hung down on her chest like two huge ripe gourds and I was mesmerized as her nipples began to swell, called to life by her arousal. Mom's stomach, round drew my attention farther down to the first few wisps of black pubic hair that quickly grew to become a lush forest of black between her thighs, glistening wetly from her shower and from what I could come to realize was a near constant state of arousal. Mom's meaty thighs I had experienced close up, her passion evident in the strength of their grip – a passion I was looking forward to enjoying again and again.

I flung the sheet off, revealing my nakedness and a now very swollen cock, recovered with a night's rest. "Come to bed, Mom," I said in a husky voice.

Mom licked her lips, but shook her head and replied, "I have a better idea. Come here. Come to Mommy!"

I moved quickly, rolling out of bed and coming around to wrap Mom in my arms, her skin soft and warm and damp to my touch. We kissed, tongues greeting each other and I savored Mom's taste – it seemed even better than last night. I felt Mom's hands stroke my buttocks and then her right hand found its way around to my front and encircled my cock, slowly stroking it. "Follow me," Mom whispered.

Leading me by my cock, we left the bedroom and went into the third bedroom which Mom had converted into an office years ago. There was an old overstuffed sofa in there, bookshelves and an old, battered wood desk with an armless computer chair in front of it. On the desk was a fairly new PC with a large flat screen. "John, there are two things I've been dreaming about doing with you."

Mom had me sit down on the computer chair and then straddled my lap facing me, my cock nestled against her hairy and wet pussy. She used an almost dangling foot to rotate us until we were facing the PC sideways so we could both look at it. Mom kissed me and said softly. "You know where I want you to go, don't you?" 

Mom looked at me expectantly until I nodded – a small smile on my face. I reached out with one hand and typed in the Literotica address. I gave a small sigh when I saw the familiar site pop up, the pretty young woman I always think of as the "Literotica Girl" proudly displaying her taut ass. Mom then reached out and logged in and linked up to her favorites with just the one name there...my nickname...Ahabscribe.

Mom clicked on it and all my stories came up. I shook my head in wonder. There were so many there – I had forgotten I had written so many and yet there was in my head so many still to be written. I wondered if there were still readers anxiously awaiting me to finish some long neglected storylines. A quiet ache rippled through me as I wondered about colleagues and how they fared and of all the stories of theirs I had missed while I was locked up. 

Mom kissed me again and giggled as she squirmed on my lap. "I've been dreaming about this ever since I first read your stories, son." Mom whispered. "John, I want to fuck you while we read each and every one of your stories together." Mom rose up on tiptoe and taking my cock in hand, guided it to her warm, slick cunt. As she slipped down on me, she sighed in a sing-song voice, "Pick a story, John...pick something and read it to me!"

Mom ground herself against me – my cock buried deep inside her while our pubic hairs became entangled. I reached out to the mouse and after a moment's hesitation, clicked on "Christmas with Mom." Mom sighed and said, "That's one of my favorites! Read it to me, son!"

Mom began to slowly rock in my lap, her pussy muscles massaging my cock as I began to read. Mom rode me slowly, then more quickly bringing herself to close to orgasm before slowing down and then resting – pressing herself against me, breasts pillowing out against my chest, her breath quick and warm on my neck as she listened to me read the story of Carrie and John before she again began her carnal dance on my cock.

I discovered that the act of reading my erotic story aloud served to help me not to cum, providing me just enough distraction from the hot and slick silkiness of Mom's pussy flesh making love to my throbbing cock. Not until our fictional counterparts are achieving orgasm under their Chicago Christmas tree did Mom let herself go and I had to pause in my reading as Mom and I fucked our selves into a tremendous orgasm, my arms squeezing Mom tight as I emptied a load of steaming semen into her wonderful and hungry pussy! Mom wiggled and ground herself against my groin, flinging her head back as she arched her back and screamed as her orgasm washed over her – a lewd sneer etched on her face as orgasm followed orgasm.

In the afterglow of our lovemaking, Mom purred happily while I gasped for breath and read the rest of the story. When I was done, Mom raised her head and gave me a soft kiss and in a quiet, hoarse voice said, "That was wonderful, son! I knew it would be. Hearing you read your own words, knowing you're really talking about me just made it sexier and nastier." Mom kissed me again, this time with enough vigor and passion to make my now semi-erect cock stir inside her clasping cunt.

After we rested a bit, still joined and sitting in the computer chair, my mind cleared enough to say, "You said there were two things you dreamed of doing, Mom?"

Mom grinned and said, "Mmmm, so I did." With a pleased moan, Mom lifted herself off my cock and it slapped wetly on my thigh. Mom slowly went to her knees, kneeling between my legs. She reached out and took my cum-covered cock in her hand. 

Licking her lips, Mom raised her eyes to look at me. "John, I want you to write more stories. Tell the world all your secret fantasies about us and while you write, I'll be right here to give you inspiration...to never let you forget how much your mother loves you!"

Mom ran her tongue up my semi-erect penis, lapping up sperm and cunt cream, never taking her eyes off me – telling me with her mouth and eyes how much she was enjoying this moment. I groaned happily as Mom's tongue cleaned my sensitive flesh before taking me into her mouth. I wallowed in the sinfull deliciousness of the moment for a couple of minutes before Mom let me slip from her mouth just long enough to whisper with a mouthful of semen and pussy juice, "Write, son – tell the world!"




Resurrection



I shivered as Mom returned to sucking my cock and then clicked open a blank word document. I paused for a moment – thinking of all the possibilities and then as Mom's tongue swirled lovingly around the head of my cock, typed, "Resurrection."

The End



Resurrection



As always:

Thanks to Boheminxen for editing.

Thanks to "Doc" for story consulting. 

Resurrection:

A young couple is running through the city of Boston in a torrential rain. Fear is coursing through them as they are followed by a middle-aged man. Periodically, the couple stops and the man tries to ward off their attacker while the woman stands back and clutches an infant wrapped in cloth, but soon they retreat again. They finally feel they lost the man tracking them and stand under an awning to shelter themselves from the rain. Without warning, the assailant comes through the awning and pierces the man in the chest. The woman flees. She runs, making as many turns as possible. Hearing the attacker in the distance, she places her infant on the steps of a Catholic orphanage and departs in a panic, hoping her foe did not see where she abandoned her child. A mile further, she was tracked down.

***

17 years later:

My attention was drawn from my studies by the sound of the other orphans playing outside in the cool spring air. The noise used to make me jealous but, alas, I've resigned myself to the fact I am never going to be able to play outside, let alone be adopted and have a 'normal' life in that world. I'm just too sickly. I simply get too fatigued and I lack the energy to be outside for more than fifteen minutes at a time, so I stay in my room. My physical limitations notwithstanding, no one would ever want me. I'm just too ugly to look at. My physical deformities are repulsive with my nose upturned and seemingly suppressed to my face, my eyes too small for my slightly larger head, and my ears, well let's just say they don't look right, not to mention my body is tall and gangly. I was probably abandoned due to some incestuous love affair. I feel more like Quasimodo stuck in Notre Dame's bell tower than a 17 year old teenager hoping to be adopted.

I have two saving graces to my name, the Holy Bible and Sister Mary Patrick. Other nuns shunned me, fearing I was some sort of demonic figure, but Sister Mary Patrick took me under her wing. She taught and guided me and showed me the solace that could be found in the Lord. She has been my nurturer, my disciplinarian, and my role model. 

"Drake? Drake, where did you just go? You zoned out for a minute there."

"Oh, sorry. Just thinking, that's all." My head was still facing the window.

"I'll take you outside if you'd like." The nun spoke in her usual wispy but caring voice.

"No thank you Sister Mary Patrick, but I appreciate the offer." I turned to face the elderly nun and offered a smile to conceal my moment of depression. "You can continue. I believe you left off at the Battle of Saratoga being the major turning point in the Revolutionary War."

"How about we take a break and eat lunch?" Sister Mary Patrick stood. "I'll be right back."

She didn't get far. As soon as she opened the door, two people were standing right outside my door in the hall. One was Mother Superior, a person who frankly didn't like that I was under her roof and the other was a woman of simple beauty. She had to be in her mid-twenties and she had shoulder length brown hair and matching brown eyes. Her slender form was a marvel to behold. Then the truly unexpected happened. She smiled at me. There was no fear of me. No look of disgust when she saw me. She didn't run in abject horror at my visage. She just gave a small smile to acknowledge my existence. And then my door shut. I shook my head and couldn't help the grin now adorning my face. If nothing else, I will cherish that moment for eternity.

Two hours later, Sister Mary Patrick returned with a duffle bag looking none too happy.

"What's wrong Mother?" I curiously asked.

The elder nun stopped dead in her tracks at my first use of the term 'Mother' in reference to her. To be honest, it was a Freudian slip and I don't know why I said it. But truth be told, for all intents and purposes, she is my Mother.

Sister Mary Patrick eyed me in shock before her ever-present soothing smile returned, but this time a single tear trickled down her cheek. "I'm going to miss you Drake. That young woman you saw a short while ago has adopted you. For the life of me, I don't know how she got it processed so quickly." And then under her breath I would've sworn I heard her admonish Mother Superior.

"Really?" I was floored. I didn't think adoption was in the realm of possibility for me.

"Yes." She came over and hugged me. "Promise me you'll be careful and remember all I've taught you. Keep your faith in the Lord and do what you can to follow in his footsteps. I love you."

Now I cried. "I love you too." Those words were a first for us too, but it made sense. "I'll visit when I can. I promise."

It's a funny thing being adopted. I am leaving the only woman who has ever cared for me in seventeen years with a woman I hope will do the same. In one regard, it's a great feeling to be wanted but in another, it's a sense yearning to be with my Mother. All these years, she didn't have to say it. Her actions more than proved it, but to hear her say those three words, "I love you" was a monumental experience.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Drake. I'm Bethany Howe. Let me carry that for you." The young woman took hold of my duffle bag. "I wouldn't want you to exude all your energy so quickly now. After all, we need to move you in." She gave me her smile again. It was a smile of knowing, of desire. No one has ever looked at me that way before.

We spent the half hour drive to her house in silence. I thought that was odd, having just been adopted by this person, but I realize this has to be new territory for her too. I know I'm nervous. The house was a small two story blue Victorian home.

"Your room is the first door on the right on the second floor. Why don't you get settled in why I make you something to eat?"

"Thank you." I went upstairs and set my duffle bag down on my new bed. "Nice." I said to no one.

The room had a closet, a big deal if you've never had one and was furnished with a dresser, a small television, a computer on a desk with a chair, and a king size bed. It's going to be nice to sleep without having my feet hang off the bed. With the smell of food wafting upstairs, I finished unpacking my clothes and headed to the kitchen. A plate of food and a red frothy drink were waiting for me on the table. Bethany laid her plate across from mine and had a glass of tea for herself. The hamburger meat was damn near raw, at least mine was. The food was good, but the drink, oh my, was absolutely fantastic. Within moments, I had a sudden burst of energy. A flood of strength filled me. I felt like I could take on the world.

"What's in this?" I asked in wonderment.

"It has a special ingredient, just for you." Bethany gave me that smile again. "It will build your strength."

"How do you know what I need?" I was completely surprised by this woman's admission. "I've seen a few doctors and they didn't have any idea what was wrong with me."

"That's easy. I'm a witch." Bethany said flatly.

I looked at her in awe for a moment and then started laughing. "You almost had me there." I wagged my finger at her. "Besides, I don't believe in witches."

Bethany's response was that smile again.

I let loose a small chuckle, still feeling like she was joking with me. "Okay, tell me this, why did you choose me to adopt?" I took another drink of my beverage. "With how close our ages are, we're more like siblings or a couple rather than a mother son relationship."

"You're right, I didn't want a son." Bethany stared intently at me, seemingly to gauge my reaction. "I wanted a companion."

"Excuse me?" I said as I choked on some of my food.

"Something told me that if I went into the orphanage, I would find what I was looking for." Bethany put her hand over mine. "And there you were and I knew my search was over."

I was speechless. It was touching, really, but I do hope she realizes that if she kisses me, I won't just magically turn into a prince. This isn't Beauty and the Beast.

"So, do you think we can give it a chance?" Bethany gave me that smile again.

I melt when I see that smile. "Of course. It would be my pleasure to be able to get to know you and see what we might become." I said sincerely. I still can't get over the fact she doesn't show any sign of disgust at my abhorrent appearance.

Within a week, I couldn't believe the changes in my body. Whatever ailment I had seemed to vanish as I drank that red frothy drink every day. My body is now maintaining a healthy weight, I have more energy than I know what to do with, and I'm as strong as an ox, I am absolutely stunned at how much I can lift. I decided to start an exercise regimen; push-ups, pull-ups, jumping jacks, and running (I always wanted to run). I do all my calisthenics with speed and precision. Bethany says I'm as swift as a cheetah. I say I'm just excited to feel a part of human civilization. One of my favorite past times is sneaking behind her and just tickling her. She always complains that it isn't fair that I don't make any noise when I walk. We end up wrestling and I always let her win to make it fair. I'm simply amazed at what I could do and it is all thanks to Bethany.

As days turned into weeks and weeks into months, Bethany and my relationship did blossom. We spent all our time together. I worked at her store, which coincidently sold all things Wiccan. We went on several weekend vacations, San Francisco, Des Moines, Miami, and Houston. We never went to any of the sights. We always traveled into the suburbs and found a good restaurant and some lodging before just driving around, seeing what there is to see. After being stuck in an orphanage for seventeen years, it was such a thrill for me to be able to see the world. By October, I can honestly say I am completely in love with Bethany.

"Your birthday is coming up, isn't it?" Bethany flashed me that smile.

"October 31st, every year." I responded disinterested.

"You don't like your birthday?" Bethany tilted her head. "It's an important sabbat for witches. It's when the physical and supernatural worlds are closest together."

"I understand it's important for you." I have since resigned myself that she believes she is a witch. "I just never had a reason to celebrate it. All the other kids at the orphanage were able to go out and I got to watch from a window."

"Ah, you poor thing." Bethany kissed me. "It's not about candy, but I'll buy you a bag if it will make you feel better. If not, I'm sure I can make it special for you."

That got my attention. To a male teenager, that can imply many things, but my mind is already hoping for one in particular. I tried to conceal the smile on my face. "Whatever you'd like, I don't care."

Halloween started with the smells of breakfast. I stealthily moved downstairs and wrapped Bethany in my arms, tickling her. I love doing that. We had a good breakfast and headed out just to walk around and enjoy each other and the fall air. We talked about the past year, what hopes we have for the upcoming year, and about her family. She even convinced me to get a tarot card reading (apparently, I'm going to be hero of sorts, doing great deeds against something that sucks the life out of members of society. Yeah, right). We made it back home early in the afternoon so she could prepare a special feast for dinner. I tried to help, but I think I was more in the way than anything else. She made an apple pork loin, corn, squash, sloes and hazelnuts, and for dessert a pumpkin pie. It was marvelous.

It was nearing sundown when she approached me with an empty glass.

"How was your 18th birthday?" Bethany had that smile again.

"It was the best birthday I ever had." I said honestly.

"I'm going to make it better." Bethany sunk to her knees and unzipped my pants.

I watched in anticipation as Bethany's head lowered to my cock for my first intimacy with a woman. As she got close, her tongue snaked out and grazed the mushroom tip. I did my best to calm myself as I'm already on the verge blowing my load. She licked all over, her saliva leaking from her mouth and on my shaft. After a few moments, she glanced up and smiled. She dove down my pole with devotion. There was no subtlety in her actions. She wanted my release and she wanted it now. I was in ecstasy as she bobbed with a tight suction. I tried to make it last, but resistance was futile. I exploded in Bethany's mouth and she held it all. Her cheeks looked like a puffer fish. I was finally done when she spit my seed in the empty glass. The experience lasted only minutes, but the memory will last a lifetime.

Bethany appeared nervous when she looked up at me. "Can you do me five favors?"

"Just five?" I chuckled. It seemed odd to put a number in that sentence. "I owe you so much, you could ask for a hundred and I wouldn't have a problem with it."

"Come with me." Bethany stood up with a bounce, glass in hand, and enthusiastically went to the basement. As she departed, I noticed a beautiful sunset through the window.

I tried to follow her speed, and I normally could easily beat her to the destination, but I struggled pulling my pants up and walking at the same time. I reached the bottom step and saw Bethany sitting on the floor with her legs under her and her palms up. She was sitting in front of an alter adorned with a skull, a pumpkin, acorns, and black and orange candles. Lying directly in front of her was a candle that appeared to have some sort of oil on it that was mixed with the contents that was in the glass. I walked over to her. "What's all this for?"

Bethany shook slightly and snickered. "You really need to make some noise when you walk and all this is for a spell I'm going to cast. Your virgin seed, which is at its best when it is ripened eighteen years, is necessary to increase the effectiveness." She looked up at me. "Please, sit down, but be quiet. Spells require the utmost concentration and should never be taken lightly."

I did as instructed and watched with curiousness at my love.

Bethany took a deep breath, lit the candle in front of her, and focused on it. For the first time, I noticed my name inscribed in the wax. She began chanting. "Powers that be, powers of three, let Drake be all I see. Powers that be, powers of three, let Drake be all I see." She repeated herself as the candle burned away.

I have to admit, I didn't have any fear whatsoever. I was fascinated by what Bethany was doing. Eventually, the candle burned down and she looked at me.

"That was impressive." I nodded my head.

"That was a spell to increase your powers." Bethany said candidly. "Are you ready to use them?"

"What powers are you talking about?" I was clueless.

"I know what you are and it's time you do too." Bethany gazed at me. "I come from a long line of powerful witches. When I was nine, I did a spell for your father to ensure the woman he loved survived birth. Shortly thereafter, he and your mother were hunted down. It took me 17 years to find you and now I ask of you five favors your father was going to grant me."

"I said I would." I shook my head. "But you still didn't tell me what powers I have?"

With that knowing smile Bethany has, she touched my hand.

This seems so surreal. I am back at the orphanage and look exactly as I did when I was there, but I feel as if I have all my strength. I remember what it is I'm supposed to accomplish. Intriguing indeed. Sitting in front of me is Sister Mary Patrick, going over today's lesson. I can hear the children outside discussing how much candy they are going to get.

"Drake? Drake, where did you just go? You zoned out for a minute there."

"Oh, sorry. Just thinking, that's all." My head was still facing the window.

"I'll take you outside if you'd like, after all it is your birthday." The nun spoke in her usual wispy but caring voice.

"No thank you Sister Mary Patrick, but I appreciate the offer." I turned to face the elderly nun and offered a smile to conceal my moment of clarity. "You can continue. I believe you left off at the affect Louis Pasteur's germ theory of fermentation had on the world."

"How about we take a break and eat lunch?" Sister Mary Patrick stood. "I'll be right back."

She didn't get far. As soon as she opened the door, two people were standing right outside my door in the hall. One was Mother Superior and the other was a man. He had to be in his fifties and had a horrible comb over. His overweight form was a marvel to behold. And then the door shut.

Two hours later, Sister Mary Patrick returned with a duffle bag looking none too happy.

"What's wrong Mother?" I curiously asked, though already knowing the answer.

The elder nun stopped dead in her tracks at my first use of the term "Mother" in reference to her. Sister Mary Patrick eyed me in shock before her ever present soothing smile returned, but this time a single tear trickled down her cheek. "I'm going to miss you Drake. That older man that you saw a short while ago has adopted you. His name is Frank Williams. For the life of me, I don't know how he got it processed so quickly." And then under her breath I would've sworn I heard her admonish Mother Superior. She came over and hugged me. "Promise me you'll be careful and remember all I've taught you. Keep your faith in the Lord and do what you can to follow in his footsteps. I love you and happy birthday."

"I love you too." Those words were a first for us too, again.

With the time change, the flight to San Francisco only took three and a half hours. We drove in silence to his suburb home.

"I don't know why I flew to Boston to adopt you." Frank shook his head. "And quite honestly, I'm nervous about it."

"It's okay, I won't be staying long." I went to his back door, opened it, and led Bethany to Frank. There was a beautiful sunset in the sky.

"Who's this and what is she doing in my house!" Frank admonished.

I grabbed him easily and held him. 

Bethany gave him her speech. His eyes got wide in disbelief. At her conclusion, I disposed of Frank while Bethany kneeled and looked up. "Four left Elizabeth." She said solemnly.

It's not like the movies. I didn't do it with a maniacal laugh or do it to show a declaration of power. I simply gave a twist to his neck and carried him to his bed while offering a prayer for him to rest in peace. Afterward, Bethany embraced me. "Thank you." She whispered and began to relinquish me of my clothes.

I reciprocated her act and soon we were both nude. "Before we start, there is something I want to do."

"What's that?" Bethany asked quizzically.

I kneelt down in front of Bethany and hesitantly stuck my tongue out.

"Oh." Bethany squealed with a hint of shock. "Okay, but we can't take too much time with this. We have a deadline to meet."

I was tentative at first but Bethany didn't seem to mind. She let me explore and I used her reactions to guide me. If she gasped or moaned, I made sure to do that movement again, if not, I didn't bother. Then I found something. It was a little ball near the top and when I licked it, she shivered. I began to concentrate on that. I caressed, I nibbled, and when I sucked, she screamed and had to lean up against the wall to keep from falling down. Juices flowed and I did my best to lap it up. It was delicious.

"Enough of that." Bethany panted. "I need you now." Bethany pushed me to the floor and hovered above me for a moment. "You surprised me Drake." She impaled herself on me. "And that is a good thing." She lifted herself up and dropped again. Her hands went to my chest, caressing the muscles underneath them. 

I followed her lead. I started by putting hands on her hips. Slowly, I went up her soft body, in total awe of her smoothness. Her speed quickened. I started pushing upward and we began to have a rhythm. The feeling was phenomenal. The velvety texture was wrapped tight around my spear as she repeatedly plunged down. Her breasts were small, firm orbs with her nipples pointing towards me, beckoning me from their perch. I couldn't take it anymore and I lifted my torso to mash into hers. My tongue darted out to one of those hard nubs while my hand massaged her other breast. Her bouncing turned into a grind, determined to keep us connected.




Resurrection



"Drake, I need you to take me." Bethany embraced me and then rolled me over so I would be on top. She looked at me with a smile and a nod. "Do it." 

I began to thrust into Bethany with reckless abandon. She writhed underneath me as she kept glancing out the window. I pounded with a fury into her tight hole, sweat glistening over both our bodies. My grunts became animalistic and her wails were now piercing. I knew I was close.

"C'mon baby, give it to me." She cried out. 

I felt her pussy contract over my manhood begging for my release and a wave of pleasure flood my cock. I tensed up and met her orgasm with one of my own. I shot like a geyser inside this beautiful woman who lies before me. I cradled her lovingly as we held on to each other in the aftermath of our union.

"That was unbelievable." Bethany nibbled on my ear. "Are you ready for number two?" 

"Of course." I smiled as the last of my ejaculation flowed into her. For my first time, I thought I did fairly well.

All of a sudden, I was at the orphanage again and it was Halloween. Sister Mary Patrick was going over today's lesson when she decides it's time for lunch. When she opened the door this time, there was a woman in her late thirties with long black hair with one heck of a tan. And then the door shut.

Two hours later, Sister Mary Patrick returned with a duffle bag looking none too happy. She explained that I was adopted, this time by Kimberly Dover, maiden name Lewis.

The whole flight to Miami and drive to her house, Kimberly wouldn't shut up. She ranted about my ugliness and was genuinely mean about just being seen with me in public. In her eyes, I was truly repulsive. I've heard it all before, but damn was her tongue sharp as a knife.

"I don't know why I did what I did but I want you out of my fucking house immediately!" Kimberly's hands were on her hips and her eyes showed defiance. What a bitch.

Oh well. I didn't speak a word as I opened the door to let Bethany in, the sunset in the distance making her more gorgeous than ever and then I grabbed Kimberly. Bethany gave her speech and I disposed of Kimberly. Bethany kneeled and looked up. "Three more Elizabeth."

This time, I must say, there was a little satisfaction in her death. I twisted so hard, I almost popped her head off like a pimple. Oops. I still performed last rites on the body as I transported her body to her bed.

This time, I mauled Bethany, catching her off guard. I knew the time and sunset was upon us. I kissed her passionately and after a moment's hesitation, she melted in my arms and opened her mouth. Our tongues danced together, doing their best thumb wrestling imitation as we discarded each other's attire. My hands went to her womanhood and hers went to my rod. No foreplay was needed as she was soaking wet and I was iron. I moved my hands to her back and kneaded her fine ass. I then cupped them and lifted Bethany in the air. She let out a surprised yelp as I buried into her in one motion. Her slender legs then encompassed my waist. I guided us to the nearest wall and hammered into her with an intensity of thrusts, each one more forceful than the last. Her head fell back against the wall and she made a series of guttural sounds through gritted teeth. The foundation of the house shook as I took Bethany and she enjoyed every minute of it. I began a contradiction. As I rammed her channel, I began to gently kiss her neck. I moved gingerly down her body, delicately placing soft suctions on her skin. When I arrived at her breasts, I grazed all around, light as a feather, continuing the seduction of her flesh. When I finally reached the nipple, I flicked it with my tongue. I then pulled hard at them and it sent a shockwave through her body. I was surprised her high pitch scream didn't break a window. Bethany spasmed in my arms and I unloaded into her simultaneously. We glistened in sweat as the sun was fading behind us.

"That was wonderful Drake." Bethany was barely audible. "I love you."

"And I love you too." I echoed her sentiments as we held onto each other, not wanting to let go of this moment.

As the last of my seed headed down Bethany's tunnel, I was at the orphanage on Halloween again. The next two to go were Bret Walcott from Houston and Harold Putnam from Des Moines. I actually felt bad for Harold. He seemed to be a good person. After each, Bethany acknowledged Elizabeth again and then we had sex.

I was at the orphanage again and it was still Halloween. The last one and it will all be over. This time when Sister Mary Patrick left to get lunch, no one was at the door. Peculiar. I was expecting Mother Superior to be there with the fifth person.

Sister Mary Patrick arrived back with lunch and some news. "I've decided to give you a wonderful birthday present Drake." Her smile was ear to ear as she set a plate of food next to me.

"And what's that?" I asked more perplexed about not seeing the fifth person than I was interested in her present.

"I'm going to adopt you!" Sister Mary Patrick exclaimed as she hugged me.

I froze. This can't be. She's the fifth person. She is one of only two people I love and the other... The door opened and Bethany walked in.

Sister Mary Patrick turned at the creaking the door made. "Who are you and what business do you have here?" 

I stood and put my hands on the nun's shoulders. "I'll handle this; just sit down for a minute Sister Mary Patrick." She did as I faced Bethany. "I can't do this. Not to her."

"I'm sorry Drake, but she's the last descendant of Mary Warren. The fifth person who accused Elizabeth Howe of crimes she didn't commit. Even though she was a witch, she didn't harm a soul. We took care of all the other accusers' descendants who condemned my ancestor to death. Abigail Williams, Mercy Lewis, Ann Putnam, and Mary Walcott's families suffered their fates for what happened in Salem all those years ago and now it's time for Mary Warren's descendant to undergo hers." Bethany pleaded.

"Bethany, I love you and I appreciate you telling me I'm a dhampir and unlocking my vampire power to distort and manipulate time and I am forever in your debt, but I can't do this. Not to her." I was sympathetic and adamant at the same time.

"Listen to me Drake, Elizabeth's soul can't be free if she is allowed to live." Bethany pointed at my surrogate mother. "And it has to be done at sunset."

Out the window, the sun has nearly completed its descent in the horizon and darkness began permeating the sky. The air grew icy cold. I was just about to speak when a white specter appeared above us, hovering.

"Oh my God," gasped the voice from behind me. I looked over my shoulder and saw that Sister Mary Patrick fainted on my bed. I somehow knew she is all right. I brought my full attention back to the situation unfolding in front of me.

"Bethany, wait." The specter spoke. The voice was high pitched and it drew out every word. I wasn't afraid, but I wasn't exactly prepared for the vision in front of me. Was I nervous? Excited? 

Bethany was neither as she cocked her neck to be face to face with whatever is floating above us. "Elizabeth, what shall I do? Do I take action myself?"

"Why do you feel this is necessary?" 

"For your spirit to be able to rest so you can begin the process of reincarnation." Bethany was surprised at the question.

"Why do you feel I'm not at rest?" I'm stunned that a drawing out every word, high-pitched voice can feel so calming. "We've only met once when you were just a small child. Did I give you the impression I was not at peace?"

"No, but you haven't moved on yet. Something had to be keeping you, forcing you to stay in this realm." Bethany stated with conviction.

"My dear child, still so young, still so much to learn. I choose to stay to look after my family. I am happy and I now want you to be happy." The specter looked directly at me. "Take that young man and make him your partner. You both love each other and he has proven he will do much for you." My gaze went to Bethany, and she smiled her smile at me and I melted again. "But the two of you need to do good together to purge your souls of their darkness for the acts you've committed."

"But wise ancestor, how do we accomplish such a task?" Bethany asked curiously.

"By doing what he was born to do. Together I see the two of you becoming the fiercest vampire hunters the world has ever known. A witch and a dhampir, what incredible combined powers you possess. You two can change the world."

And so it came to be.



Resurrection of Crazy Jane Pt. 01



Special thanks to WindySwimming and shygirlwhore for the editing help! 

***** 

In the summer of 2005, I first saw the movie preview for "The 40 Year Old Virgin". 

Even though I was only 20 years old at the time, let's just say that it hit a bit too close to home. 

Getting a girlfriend was something that happened to ... other people. 

Not me. 

Finally getting a girl, let alone a concept like actually having sex, was a pipe dream stacked on top of another pipe dream. 

But that stupid movie inspired me to actually grow a pair. I was not going to end up a 40-year-old virgin! 

I had to reverse my fortunes. 

I got some industrial grade acne medication to clear my face. 

I tried looking people in the eye more often. And along with that, actually speaking to humans more often. 

And I found out people thought I was kind of funny. Who knew? 

The hardest thing, though, was running and lifting weights. The entire concept was totally antithetical to my nerdy, "I hate jocks" persona that I had cultivated my entire life. But I stuck with it - and actually kind of enjoyed it. Again, who knew? 

Six months into my transformative vow, I finally landed Beth. 

We met in our college creative writing class in the Spring of 2006. 

We began getting close, bonding over movies, writing, and all that artistic junk that literature majors like us held dear. 

In quite awkward fashion, we hooked up. But, neither of us could admit that that was our ulterior motive. 

We got the idea to work on a collaborative story. It was about a young elf (me) and a regal forest nymph (her). They were seeking to recapture some MacGuffin device from an evil wizard. 

Truth be told, the story was utter shit. Just a cheesy "Lord of the Rings" ripoff. 

All you need to know, though, was that the whole "story" was just a ruse that allowed us to hook up with each other, after which we promptly abandoned our story. 

Like me, Beth was a virgin. Technically. Ugh ... it's complicated. 

It's a long story. It truly is. 

She is a bigger girl, and I thought she was kind of cute. She had a great smile and all, and was curvy in all the right places. And good lord, the girl was seriously stacked like a never-ending game of Jenga. But unless she wore a tight top (which she never did), she wasn't the kind of girl that would actually get looks from passersby walking down the street. 

We were two birds of a feather like that. Nobody would notice either of us. Except for the stacked thing. I wasn't stacked. 

See? I told you I was funny. 

But Beth seemed to actually like me. That sort of thing didn't happen often. Ever. 

By summertime, we were in the midst of a truly virginal courtship worthy of balloons, puppy dogs, and pretty pink flowers. 

I didn't push the sex thing on her. It just wasn't the thing to do. Again, it was a long story. 

But mercifully, about three months into the relationship, she finally let me. 

The first time was a blur. All this buildup, for this? 

It was quiet, after-school-special copulation. Very awkward. Confusing. I had no idea what I was doing. I barely knew where to put it. Neither did she. 

Even though she was 26, she was a virgin, too. 

And sex frightened her. 

It frightened me less, luckily. I was strangely... confident in the bedroom. It was the damndest thing. It was so unlike real life, where everybody else frightened me. I guess it was because I already got the girl. So why be nervous? As such, it only made sense that I should take the lead. 

That's what led to me heading to the bookstore to find a book. A how-to book. I needed to learn how to do this stuff, and this was an age before universally free porn. 

Beth worked at this particular bookstore, so it made it difficult to sneak in and procure a sexual instructional manual. I had to do this on the down low. 

I was quite nervous looking in the sex section at the bookstore. I was worried somebody would see me. Honestly, I was worried that Beth's co-workers, who knew that I was her boyfriend, would see me, report back to her, and tell her I was some pervert messing around in the sex section. I have no idea why I would be nervous about that. It's a normal, adult subject. But with Beth, it was, I don't know ... not normal. 

I found an older paperback there, and began thumbing through it. It was called "A Sensuous Man." It was written like an instructional manual. It was, essentially, just what I needed. It was graphic, talking in detail about pleasure zones, cunnilingus, all of the taboo subjects that we just weren't told about in the dark ages of the early 21st century. 

The approach it took put me at ease. 

"Assuming you have found your ideal woman - or at least a woman who will do until that one comes along - it's time you learned how to make love to her so capably that your mutual satisfaction, your outright ecstasy, is assured." 

Beth needed this. To enjoy it. To not be scared. I wasn't scared. I just didn't know what to do. I just wanted her to feel good. To relax. I didn't want her to be the frozen, scared plank she was. Somebody had to lead this. 

As I pondered this, previewing the book with rapt attention, a sweet, sing-songy voice broke my concentration. 

"Sir, are you finding everything okay?" 

I was startled and instantly froze. I felt a harrowing and fearful chill burrow its way up my spine and slap me in the back of my head. Like I just got caught with my hand in the cookie jar. I looked up from the book to see a mind-bogglingly gorgeous girl. 

I know I was taken by Beth, but I wasn't dead. 

She wore a pair of black, wire-rim glasses and her lips just shined. 

They were bright pink and glossed up, begging you to notice them, which I did. She bit her lip as she looked at me, a move that always made my pulse quicken. 

My eyes glanced downward, looking at her nametag on her green bookstore polo, perched atop of a pretty staggeringly large swell of breasts for an otherwise slim girl. 

"Zoey" it said. 

Most men could cycle through that reaction in a matter of seconds. But for me, and my magnificent social anxiety, that was about a 10-second span of silence as I just looked. Think about how truly long that is to be quiet after somebody asks you a question. 

Throughout this, I saw her expression change three times. 

First from the bitten lip, almost innocent stare, to a raised eyebrow, waiting for a reaction. Then, to a more relaxed giggle as she seemed to look me up and down. Then she smiled. 

Big. 

Wait wait wait ... was she checking me out? I'm not sure that had ever happened before! I'm not the kind of guy that actually gets checked out! 

I finally stammered out some words. 

"I... uh, I'm just, um... browsing." I quickly closed my book and tried to nonchalantly place it back on the shelf without her noticing. 

"Are you sure there's not anything I could help you with?" Zoey asked, arching her eyebrow. She looked down again at me and back up into my eyes, letting a little giggle escape her lips. I don't know why I thought this, but it seemed like her giggle was ... scripted and not spontaneous. It's just something I noticed. Or pondered. 

She had her hands behind her back and stretched slightly, arching her back ... and that just stretched her bookstore polo shirt out even more. 

And I noticed. And looked. It occurred to me that if I pretended to be reading her nametag - which I had already read - I could get away with looking at her chest a second or two longer. 

I looked back down at her and into her eyes, which were blue and big like an anime girl. They were the biggest, most shimmering pair of eyes I'd ever looked into. 

Then a rush of thoughts of entered me. 

Why have I never noticed her working here before? 

Was she new? 

Did she go to the same college as me? 

How does a girl as pretty as her work at a fucking bookstore? 

And how did she perfectly embody that goddamn hot librarian fantasy to a fucking tee? 

Unlike my last journey inside my own head, all these thoughts and actions took only a few seconds, but they were vivid. I was suffering from sensory overload. 

One thing I wasn't suffering from - any thoughts at all of Beth and our sex life. 

"I'm- uh, I'm fine. Like I said, I'm just browsing." 

I twisted my elbow to place my book back on the shelf. Success! Now nobody would know ... 

That is, until she just reached behind me. Right for the book I just put down. She picked it up, looked at it, then back up to me, glaring above her glasses with her shimmering eyes, full of playful judgment. She pinched her face in a cute frown before losing her resolve and letting it descend upward into a knowing smirk. 

"Hmmm ..." she said inquisitively as she lightly tapped the closed book against her palm, like she was going to punish me or something. 

I was frozen. Absolutely mortified. Despite those nerves, I kept glancing down. And I kept seeing her stupid tits staring at me. I kept yo-yoing back and forth from her body to her eyes, but couldn't bear to actually look in her eyes. 

Get a hold of yourself, man! 

"Books are a good start," she said, still smirking. She took a half step toward me. My nerves were blazing and I felt like my heart would beat out of my chest. Then she leaned in, toward my shoulder. I kept panicking. 

"Don't tell my boss I said this," she said in a whisper, looking away from me. "But books can't match life experience." 

She stood up straight again, looking at me, daringly. Her gaze was completely unwavering, like she was looking through my eyes and into my fucking soul. 

Little by little, she began moving closer to me. Closer to my face, like she was going to kiss me. Her smile disappeared and she looked like she was going to eat me. Devour me. I'd never seen somebody look at me like that in my life. 

And say what you will, but that's fucking scary! 

I felt like I had to return her gaze. I had to look her in her eyes too. Like it was a game of chicken. 

So I did, scared to death. 

I had no idea what my body language was saying at that point. I just looked into her eyes. That's all I focused on. Centering my every muscle to my eye sockets so I could look straight ahead at her. Her baby blue anime eyes, so help me, glistening white in the lights of the bookstore like they were ... painted on. 

And she just kept looking. And moving closer. Daring me. She wouldn't let it go. Her protruding breasts began to make contact with my chest. This went on for 10 of the longest seconds of my life ... and 10 of the most intense and exciting seconds of my life, truth be told. 

She finally softened her gaze, backed up slightly, and produced a smile. 

"You're cute," she proudly announced with an innocent grin and a tilted head, like she just came to this conclusion after scrutinizing my face. "Your eyes are gorgeous. I bet you'd have no problem attaining life experience." She glanced down and smiled a toothy grin behind her shiny pink lips. "Yep, no problem at all." 

And then she bit her lip. Again. AUUGGGH! 

She quickly backed up, turned around, and while walking away, said, "If you need any more help sir, I'm Zoey. Just look for me." She bounced away like a fucking bubbly teenager. 

I looked down as she left, and then I saw it. 

My tent protruding from my pants. Clear as fucking day. 

Was I that obvious? Did I have that big of a hard-on while she was talking to me? Daring me? 

Feeling as if I somehow avoided death, I readjusted my treasonous cock behind the waistband of my underwear and practically ran to the restroom. 

I went to the sink, still hard, and splashed water on my face, looking at myself. Cute? Gorgeous eyes? What the hell was she talking about? She must've been mentally ill. 

Then I looked. I mean, really looked. Like I was looking with somebody else's eyes. Was this me? 

My face was clear. No more pimples. My face was smooth and free of blemishes, since that medicine worked like a charm. That little gut I always had was gone. All that running and lifting had done me good. I mean, when I noticed I had abs a few months back, I guess all I realized was my ponch was gone. But I never really thought about it and noticed. 

My hair was sitting in a way that was messed up, but looked good somehow. I never gave it credit before, but I guess I had nice hair. And my eyes kind of jumped off my face. I mean, I look at myself every day, but I guess it's the first thing I notice about myself. So it's the first thing everybody else notices, right? 

Obviously she noticed. 

Wow, I'm not ugly. Mind blown. 

Then I reflected on Zoey. What she said to me. How she was looking at me. And I just beamed with pride. I'd never experienced anything like that before in my life. I've heard forever about "love at first sight" and that must be what they were talking about. That experience. 

Get a hold of yourself! You have a girlfriend. Beth is your girlfriend. She was your first girlfriend, and she loves you and you love her, you stupid, stupid fuck! 

Even with that thought about Beth, I grabbed at my still rock-hard cock. I could feel it twitching along with my heartbeat. And I saw Zoey in my mind's eye. 

I couldn't help it. She was so damned attractive. I couldn't even say "hot" because, from the way she spun a phrase, she was definitely smart. She was better than "hot." Like, she could keep up with me. I'm not brilliant, but I hate having to dumb down my vocabulary when I talk to people, and I think if we were on a date, she could keep up. 

Jesus, man! What are you even saying to yourself? Stop. Just STOP! 

I went to the bathroom stall to gather my wits, and the first thing I noticed was my tent, feeling the torque of my pants and boxers being stretched out and pushing back into it. 

I don't know what moved me, but I just unzipped and pulled my cock out and looked at it. She complimented my dick, didn't she? God, that's a rush. Zoey thinks I have a big dick? 

I just beat off. Right there in the bathroom stall. At my girlfriend's work. Thinking about one of her co-workers. I just simply didn't give a single fuck. 

It took me only 30 seconds to cum. Tops. 

And I splashed my cum on the door of the stall, like I was shooting a fucking water gun against it. 

I never came like that in my life. 

-- 

The time is right, I suppose, to tell you why Beth is all weird about sex. 

When we first started dating, she said she had a secret. 

She told me that she wasn't really a virgin. 

She told me that her birth father had brought her into some religious cult where she was ritualistically raped by he and his friends when she was a child. From the story she told, they were masked, holding torches and raping little girls. 

It was, obviously, a bombshell. I had no idea how to react to that news. I still don't know how to handle it, to be honest. 

And she doubled down. She said that the experience caused her to have split personalities. Sometimes, she said, she fades in and out, acting a different way completely, believing she was somebody else based on the triggers in any given situation - with no memory about it when it happens. 

I know what you're thinking ... 

Dude, RUN! 

But it's not that easy. Actually being in a relationship with somebody who had experienced that, was essentially made crazy by that, it's not the kind of thing you could just ignore and run away from. 

I cared about her. And she was my first girlfriend. It's not like I would get another. I'd marry her eventually. That's what people do, right? So I had to be there for her. Work through it and help her deal. 

And that meant being sensitive about sex. Because, of all those triggers in her environment that would set her off, sex was a major trigger. 

It was difficult because I was pretty healthy about sex. I was raised that it wasn't taboo. My dad left his Playboy collection out in the open for bathroom reading. It just wasn't a big deal. 

I wanted to explore her body and make her feel good while I made myself feel good. Grow together through sex. 

But we were so damn awkward about it. 

Christ, at this point, we had had sex a total of exactly 6-1/2 times and I hadn't even cum yet while I was with her. 

It was a problem. 

But, being honest about it, the fact that she was frozen solid during sex, scared to move, do anything, say anything, let alone let herself enjoy it, was probably the problem. 

That's why I was so excited when Beth bought a bra the day after my bookstore episode with Zoey. It wasn't like any of the tan granny bras she had. This was a pretty bra. Honest-to-god lingerie. The good stuff. 

It was a symbol to me that as our sexual relationship began to grow, she was trying. 

Her roommate Nikki was staying the night at her parents' place, so we had her apartment all to ourselves. That's when she showed me her cherry red bra that pushed her magnificent tits up and together, framing them perfectly. 

I was in heaven. 

She was finally letting me have her. 

I lifted up her sweater over her head and ran my hands over her bra. It was magnificent and she was smiling, giggling awkwardly but seemingly content. She let me lift her bra cups and suckle on her breasts, chewing on her nipples. I lost myself in her. She moaned for the very first time and had a high-pitched, sing-songy squeal whenever I did something she liked, like graze my pointed tongue along her hard, moist and crinkled nipple as it protruded an inch from her chest. 

Within a couple minutes, I just took her. Right there on the couch in her living room. 

My cock was straining in my shorts and I was grinding against her thigh. And she wasn't pulling away. On occasion, I think I even felt her reciprocate by moving her thigh, ever so slightly, into my humping thrusts as my lips explored her body, trying to put her at ease. 

She was still pretty frozen. But she was smiling. Giggling. Moaning. 

Holy shit, she actually wanted it! 

I fetched a Magnum condom from my bag and slipped it on. Before long, I was rubbing my thick cock head against her clit, and I swear, she jumped with pleasure. At least I think she did. I don't think it was in my head. 

It was happening. Though we'd technically had sex several times, this seemed like it would be the first time that we actually fucked like normal people. 

Every time we had had sex, getting it in was problematic. She was so tight, negotiating my cock into her seemed to take 30 seconds or more. She complained about pain every time. She'd often tell me to not move at all, because it hurt whenever I thrust. 

But not this time. 

She wrapped her arms around my neck as I thrust into her. Fully. I'd withdraw my cock almost completely with each thrust before lunging forward and bottoming out. 

This feels good. 

I looked into her eyes as I kissed her, and she had her glazed sex look. At least that's what it seemed like. I was new at this. I didn't know. 




Resurrection of Crazy Jane Pt. 01



She had a 1,000-yard stare, off into the distance, enjoying the moment. Feeling everything. 

Her voice raised a few octaves as she was moaning in high-pitched mews. She had yet to close her eyes or really return my gaze, looking back into me, which I thought was a good sign. She was focusing on her body. I knew it. Focusing on the pleasure. 

At long last, I finally felt it. My balls tightening up. My cock hardened even more. This was it. 

Without her roommate in the house, I moaned LOUD. 

If I wasn't wearing a rubber, I would've blown a pint of cum into her, which I confirmed when I pulled out and saw a golf-ball sized reservoir of cum swelling the end of the condom. 

"Oh my God," she finally said in a high-pitched voice, smiling and, for the first time, showing a look of actual lust in her eyes. 

She enjoyed it! 

We were both grinning like idiots and in a matter of minutes, we just fell asleep together on the couch, holding each other. 

--- 

The next morning, Nikki came back to the apartment and told Beth that they needed to talk. 

It was a bit of a bomb, but Nikki said that she had been secretly struggling with her finances for months. She was trying to not bother Beth with it, but she was at her breaking point. She couldn't make rent this month and she was moving back in with her parents. 

Nikki would be gone within a week. 

I offered immediately to move in with Beth. Yes, it was a big move, but I was ready to make it. We were a real deal. Sex the night before had confirmed it. 

Yet, she was apprehensive. 

"I ... I'm not ready for that," she told me without making eye contact with me. "I mean, we just started dating and it's just ..." She was kind of shaking while having this conversation. It was the exact opposite of the girl that all but seduced me the previous night. This was "scared Beth" again. 

I think she knew what cohabitation implied, and she just wasn't ready. 

I knew that. I understood. She didn't have to explain it to me. I smiled and kissed her and told her I'd be there to help her out financially if she couldn't find anybody, even if that meant I didn't live there. I was crashing on my friend's sleeper couch for $75 a month (even though I was mostly at Beth's), so I had cash to spare. 

In the meantime, she began the search for a new roommate. 

I helped her design a flyer and we figured she'd hang it up at school, maybe the library. 

"I'll hang it up in the bookstore too when I go to work later," she announced. 

I immediately froze and thought of Zoey, for the first time since I had met her. Why, idiot?! Why?! 

My pulse quickened and my breath caught in my throat. Just from the simple mention of her name. I stifled a grin for Beth's benefit. 

"Oh yeah, I forgot you worked tonight," I told her with an unsure tone. 

"Yes, and I'll miss you too, you big dork," she told me before grabbing my hand. She looked into my eyes for a moment then said dreamily, "I love the way you look at me. It makes me feel... special." 

I gave her a noncommittal smile, because this "look" I was giving her was because I was far away, thinking about Zoey, and that Beth would be working with her that night. I guess a daydream look amounted up a look of love. Apparently. 

Jesus, get your act together, man! 

I let my mind wander Beth and Zoey. Were they friends? Would Zoey tell Beth? Does Zoey even know who I am? And besides, that was quite forward of Zoey to blatantly flirt with me like that. She must flirt with guys all the time. I'm not such a prize catch that my dumb ass made her lose her mind like that. 

Right? 

"Um, why are you, you know?" Beth asked, pulling me out of me reverie. She angled her eyes down at my crotch, and I had gotten hard as a rock suddenly. She looked unsure and scared, and I just beamed and shrugged. 

"I'm a growing boy, Beth. You rev my motor," I flirted with her, trying to cover up the source of my excitement - my daydream. She didn't take it as a flirtation at all though. 

"I can't handle this right now," Beth exclaimed suddenly, standing up and walking around in a panic, flailing her arms in exasperation. "I can't do this. I'm not your, your ..." 

I stood up and went to hug her. Seeing your girlfriend having a mental fit has a way of neutering your libido, so I was fully in control when I tried to embrace her. 

"Beth, sweetie, I'm sorry ... it's okay," I told her as I wrapped my arms around her. As soon as I made contact with her, she shuddered and pulled away. Her face scrunched up. 

"I ... I ... need to get ready. Get dressed." She skulked off and went into her bedroom and closed the door. 

I sat down on the couch and clenched my hands together, just staring. I'd be lying if this was the first time I saw Beth act strangely like this. The sex from the previous night was a long memory at that point. 

When she was out of sorts, I learned to just wait it out and then she'd get back to normal. Give her space. That's the biggest thing. 

I picked up a book of poetry from the bookcase to occupy myself until she hopefully came back out. It was a book of poems by William Butler Yeats. I thumbed through and began to read, settling on "Crazy Jane and Jack the Journeyman." 

I know, although when looks meet 

I tremble to the bone, 

The more I leave the door unlatched 

The sooner love is gone, 

For love is but a skein unwound 

Between the dark and dawn. 

As I sat ruminating on Yeats' first lines, she came out of the room, dressed in her uniform, grinning. She smiled widely at me and bent down to kiss me on the forehead. 

"Could you walk me out to my car?" she requested, grabbing me by my hand like she didn't have a care in the world. Somewhat stunned, I walked down from her apartment to the parking lot. She squeezed me with her hand as we walked, looking at me happily yet silently, almost in adoration. Once we got to her car, she got up on her tiptoes to kiss me. 

"Would you meet me during my lunch break? Say, 6 p.m.? If you're not, you know, busy." 

I stared, nodding. "Sure, Bethy," I said as I apprehensively brought her into a hug. She looked at me silently, still not finding the nerve to say the l-word - neither of us had even said it to each other yet to be honest. 

With a quiet look, she got in her car and took off. 

It wasn't until Beth drove off that it occurred to me what I agreed to. 

Zoey would be at the bookstore. Or, at the very least, she might. Then I kept reflecting ... Sure, that kind of thing doesn't happen often - or ever - to me. But she probably acts that way all the time. She probably doesn't even remember me. 

And so what if she does? It's not like I did anything wrong. I didn't flirt with her. If anything, she came on to ME! And the book I was looking at was innocent ... ish. Beth might freak out. She would think I was gross. But what's one more thing? I already pretend that I don't have thousands of dirty pictures saved on my computer. I'm fine. We're fine. There's nothing to worry about with Zoey. Nothing. 

Yeah, right. 

If Beth found out I was browsing through the sex section, she would freak the fuck out. Completely! 

I exhaled, drove back to my place, and got out my books to study for my literary criticism quiz next week. 

Unfortunately, it took me 15 minutes to write a measly two paragraphs about Jacques Derrida and deconstruction. My mind just kept thinking about that book, which made me think of sex with Beth. Which made me think of Zoey and how forward she was. And that look she gave me that made my spine quiver. That magnificent body I had yet to really get a solid look at. 

Those eyes. 

I shouldn't have been surprised to notice that I unconsciously fished my cock out of my pants, thinking about Zoey. 

Why fight it? FUCK! 

-- 

Before I knew it, it was close to 5 p.m. 

In my postorgasmic bliss, I finally managed to write a response to Derrida and do away with my studies for a day. I decided to surmise that Derrida was just an asshole, in so many words, and that the umbrella of "deconstruction" merely provided him the vehicle to be an asshole in academic affairs. Yes, it was a bullshit paper, but it was only worth 20 points toward my final grade. So fuck it. 

Regardless, no more homework meant my mind was left to think about my girls. Namely, that my girlfriend is... interesting ... and that there was a chance I would see Zoey again when I met Beth for her lunch break. Both topics bounced around in my head. 

I couldn't figure out Beth's emotions for the life of me. She seemed fine, until sex entered the equation. Since, she's been all kinds of nutty. I try to be sensitive. But I just can't keep up with her. 

Zoey, well, was just tits and ass. That's all I could let myself think at this point. It's not like I could rationally think about anything else. I didn't even know her. It would have been all speculation. No use getting hung up on speculative matters. I just couldn't get over the fact that I had never been hit on like that in my life. And I was hit on. Whether I actually was or not, I was hit on. That's what my brain chose to believe. 

I kept obsessing about both, so I figured I'd just get there early and sit in the cafe at the bookstore and wait for Beth to clock out for her lunch break. And I hoped and/or dreaded seeing Zoey. Let's just say, from a purely sporting angle, I was eager to see her again. No matter what, she was exciting. 

I entered the bookstore and looked around for Zoey. And Beth. I tried to not be too excited to find either one of them. But I still moved my head back and forth peeking around all the shelves to see if I could spot one of them. 

Nothing. 

And maybe Zoey wasn't even working tonight. 

A little relaxed, I took a seat and sipped on a coffee, getting out my notebook to fiddle around and write some poetry. 

I liked to free-write, just getting out words, images or sounds that were trapped in my mind. And maybe spin a poem out of them. I didn't particularly like poetry, but I won undergrad writing awards at my University, so I think I was obligated to continue to write some. 

I started to get some words on the page as they came to me. 

Masochistic passion engulfs me 

like using a machete to trim fingernails 

Devil eyes of an angel 

A periscope into my soul 

Popping and mashing 

into a paste of goodbyes 

It wasn't great. Or even good, but it was a start. This is my process - write without much thought, then edit and find the meaning in rewrites. "Mash" sounds? Paste? I think I was hungry. 

"Is that my sensuous man?" 

I froze. I knew that voice. 

Then I felt a hand on my shoulder, moving lightly down my upper arm as she swept into view. 

Zoey. 

Without being invited, she sat across from me like she was my best friend. I tensed my posture and closed my notebook. I don't know if I turned white, but whatever this feeling was, it was now known in my personal vernacular as the "turning white feeling." Or whatever. I was a freewriter. I'd edit it later. 

"So, decided to not buy the book, huh? Chose to gather experience instead?" 

This damn girl was the most expressive person I've ever met. She showed happiness, fun, and sex all over her face. She just oozed whatever emotion she was trying to convey with that precious mouth and her pink, shiny lips. 

It was fucking intoxicating. 

"Hi ... uh, Zoey," I finally managed to eek out, trying not to make eye contact. When I looked up, she was playfully scrunching up her face to me. 

"Good," she said. "You were looking near my name tag the other day, but I didn't know if you ever actually looked at it." And on cue, she pushed her heavy chest up and out at me. Jesus, this girl could flirt! 

I was so riddled with nerves, all I could think to do was run. I was squirming in my seat. I just wanted to run away from her. She scared me. 

"I, uh, remember things," I said, my eyes shifty and unable to focus on her eyes. "I'd, uh, like to think of myself as observant." I sat back straight and picked my notebook up, clutching it in my hand, looking for a getaway. I kept yo-yoing between her eyes, hidden behind her sexy glasses, and her chest. Again. 

Meanwhile, she was just looking straight at me. Unwavering. Dammit! 

Sensory overload! Sensory overload! 

"Whatcha got there?" she asked. I was confused. Then I realized where she was looking. 

My notebook. 

"Uh, it's, uh, just my poetry and stuff," I stammered out. Before I could even hatch a plan for this upcoming conversation about my writing we were obviously going to have, she reached over and snatched the notebook out of my hand. I instinctively tried to grab it back but it was outside of my reach. She flashed me a cocky smirk. 

She looked at the cover, which was my best attempt at calligraphy, writing the words "Poetry, Etc." with doodles all over it. I liked drawing cartoon characters, so one was of Homer Simpson dressed like a Shakespearean leading man, in knickerbockers and a beret, but burping. 

"Cute," she said, pointing to Homer. "You drew this?" 

I nodded meekly, probably blushing. 

"Cute and talented. And I haven't even looked inside yet," she teased. Her proclamation that I was "cute" still made me uncomfortable. But it made me beam, too. "So I assume the et cetera is drawings?" she asked. I just continued to blush and tried to reach across the table to get my book back. She just swatted at my hand and glared at me like a disappointed mother. "May I?" she asked, beginning to open it up. 

Like I had a choice. 

Every bit of writing inside was dated at the top. They were marked up all to hell, scratched out and erased. She just kept thumbing through, almost disinterested. 

Then her face erupted into a huge smile. 

"This one has today's date on it," she said, her face glowing like she just discovered gold. "Was this what you were just writing?" 

I lunged at her to get it back, but sensing I might strike, she pulled it away from me. She began reading aloud. 

"Masochistic passion engulfs me," she said in an almost mocking, monotonous poetry reading-style voice. "Damn, you are a sensuous man. And kinky." 

"... like using a machete to trim fingernails. Hmm." She looked inward for a moment, obviously thinking about it. 

"It's not done yet. I haven't even done a rewrite." 

She continued, "Devil eyes of an angel. A periscope into my ..." 

"I hate that word," I interrupted her. "That word, soul, is so cliche but I couldn't ..." 

"Popping and mashing," she interrupted back, "into a paste of goodbyes." She began to put it down, looking past me, her flirtatious look finally gone. "Dang. The sensuous man is a poet." 

She grinned at me again and placed the book on the table. Slowly, she moved her hand toward mine and began to rub a finger on my right hand. She looked up at me, a bit more serious this time, and lightly bit her lip. 

Gah, her lip! 

"You're here!" I heard from a distance. It was Beth. I was shaken back into the real world at the sound of her voice as Zoey jerked her hand away from mine. Beth hugged me from behind and placed a kiss on the side of my cheek. She was feeling good, from the sound of it. 

Beth then looked up and saw Zoey, sitting across from me, my notebook still in front of her. "You guys know each other?" Beth asked. 

"I-uh, she ..." I began to answer, but Zoey interrupted. 

"He was in here the other day and I met him when was buying the 'Complete Works of Shakespeare,'" she said, cool as a cucumber. "I saw him writing so he was letting me read a bit. You know, killing time until my shift starts," she smiled. 

I lifted my arms to cover Beth's at that moment, just to let her know I cared about her. And not Zoey. Not Zoey. 

"You know me, Beth," I chuckled. "I'm a whore for letting people read my stuff." 

Beth audibly grunted. "Gah, you know I hate that word." I think I even felt her shudder, but that didn't keep me from rolling my eyes. Zoey looked at me and flashed a little smirk. 

Zoey broke up the awkwardness. "So, you two are ..." 

"Yep!" Beth proudly announced and kissed me on the cheek. "Three months now, huh?" she asked me. "I forgot you're new. You weren't here yet when we started going out. Everybody here lost their minds when we starting going out. It was so annoying." 

All I pulled out of that was that Zoey was new. That's why I'd never seen her before. 

Zoey gave an odd look to Beth. "Girl, good job reeling in this one," Zoey said to Beth. "Probably had to poach him from somebody else, huh?" 

"What do you mean?" Beth asked innocently. 

"I mean, he's smart," Zoey said, picking up my notebook. "And super cute. I assume he was taken." Then, she smirked flirtatiously. "Either that, or you're just dynamite in the sack. And have devil eyes of an angel, hmm?" She looked at Beth and me with a proud smile on her face, quoting my own poetry. 

I felt Beth tense up at the sexual comment. "Uhhh, no," Beth said, almost sounding grossed out but laughing awkwardly because she knew that socially, she had to. "We, uh, met in a writing class," she continued. "Wrote a story together and just, he asked me out." 

I looked at Zoey nervously. She could obviously tell she hit a sour chord with Beth. Her face looked crestfallen. "That's cute," Zoey said. "You got a good one. As did you, sir. Beth is probably the sweetest girl here." Zoey stood up and gave Beth a big hug. "Well, time to clock in," she announced. "Have a good lunch, Beth. Bye, Shakespeare." 

And almost as suddenly as she appeared, Zoey disappeared behind the book stacks, leaving us alone. 

Beth let go of me and bounded into the chair across from me. She seemed, I don't know, bubbly. 

"She's sweet," Beth told me. "Weird she was sitting here with you. I didn't know you guys knew each other." 

For some reason, I was calm. I was able to come up with a deflecting comment. "Yeah, she just, sat down and talked to me. It was weird. I don't even know her." That's right. Throw her off the scent. Don't know what scent there is, but if there was one, it smelled like strawberry shampoo and perfume. 

Ugh, focus, man! 

"Yeah, she comes on strong," Beth said. "And she gets, you know, inappropriate," Beth guffawed. Yes, Beth. I NOTICED. 

Beth and I had a nice lunch break together. I got a pastry and we hung out. The awkwardness from earlier in the day was gone. We talked about school and what movie we might want to see on our next date. She was normal. 

We only had 30 minutes for her break, but 20 minutes into it, up walks Zoey, bouncing with a Cheshire grin on her face. All of her was, well, bouncing. 

"Hey Shakespeare, found a couple books you might get use out of," Zoey said. "And Beth," she told her, "When you get off break, find me. I wanted to ask you something." 

She dropped off a stack of books, all about Shakespeare. 

The one on top: "A Glossary of Shakespeare's Sexual Language." I immediately shuffled that one to the bottom before Beth could see. But, that only revealed "A Dictionary of Shakespeare's Sexual Puns and their Significance." And I turned that fucker over. I smiled at Beth awkwardly. 




Resurrection of Crazy Jane Pt. 01



"What did she give you?" Beth politely asked. 

"Just, um, some lit crit books for when I take that Shakespeare class next semester. I was asking her about those yesterday." 

"Better you than me!" Beth said, rolling her eyes. "I hate Shakespeare!" 

I was never so happy to hear somebody say they hated Shakespeare. 

-- 

A few minutes later, Beth had to get back to work. "Tonight's going to take forever," she whined. "They have me working in the stock room all night, cataloguing. I hate cataloguing." 

I gave her a sympathetic look and a hug. "Sorry hun. That sucks." She shrugged. 

"It's okay. See you in Creative Writing tomorrow morning?" she asked, and I nodded. I gave her an almost chaste kiss. "See you then." Still, no l-word, as I walked off. 

I grabbed the books Zoey gave me and went to the checkout. I had no idea if or how I was going to use them, but you could bet your ass I was going to buy them. 

Lucky for me, Zoey was working the register. When she saw me approach, she just began smiling and laughing. Nobody else was in line, so she talked semi loudly. 

"Holy crap, I didn't think you'd actually buy them!" 

Feeling remarkably at ease, I smiled at her. "The girl that helped me made some great recommendations," I told her, finally somewhat confident. She returned a cheesy grin. 

"Well, sir, just make sure you hide these under your bed with the rest of your dirty books," she said blithely. "Can't have your girlfriend find them. I don't think she'd approve." 

With that comment, that short-term ease vanished. Dang, this girl is just ... unbelievable. 

After she rang them up, she began to grab under the register. "Hold on, there's a giveaway this week. Let me get yours." 

She crouched down for quite a long time, like she was digging for something. After about 10 or 15 seconds, she got up, stuffed something in the bag, and handed it to me. 

"Have a wonderful night, sir," she smiled with a crooked grin. 

I gathered as much of a gander of her as I could, focusing on her ridiculously sexy mouth, and finally forced myself away, leaving the store. 

Once I left, I immediately grabbed into the bag to see this "giveaway item." I noticed it immediately. 

A paperback copy of "A Sensuous Man." She had stuck a bookmark inside of it. She had written a note on it. 

"If you fuck half as good as you write, Beth, or any other girl, will be very satisfied. -Z" 

"Any other girl" was underlined. Twice. 

Mind blown. 

-- 

The next day, I went over to Beth's, and she was again ridiculously happy. I was so glad to see that temperamental Beth was going away. 

As I walked into her apartment, she gave me a huge hug. "So," she said excitedly. "I have some great news!" She could barely hold in a cheesed-out grin. 

"What is it?" I matched her smile. 

"I found a roommate!" 

"Awesome! Who is she?" 

As I said that, I heard the door to Nikki's room open. I saw a girl stroll out down the hallway. She had just an amazing body and long hair. Every part of her was bouncing as she stepped. 

I felt my body tense up and a jolt up my spine that was both exciting and nauseating. 

"Hey there, roomie!" Zoey said to Beth.



Resurrection of Crazy Jane Pt. 02



For a full introduction into this story, read the first part of "The Resurrection of Crazy Jane." Laziness dictates that I won't fashion these installments to stand on their own. 

Enjoy! Or don't. I don't need your praise :p 

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

"You're, um, going to live... here?" 

Outwardly, I think I was playing it cool. Probably. Maybe. 

Inside, I was a mess. A jumble of emotions. 

I knew I was attracted to Zoey. That was obvious. Why deny it? And for some reason, she was attracted to me. That, or she just really enjoys making me squirm. 

And whatever back and forth we've had, it was all entertainment to be honest. If I was single, I would've become obsessed with her after her come-ons. I would have been at the bookstore daily. Shit, hourly. I would not play it cool. 

But now, I had a girlfriend to focus on. One that I love. Probably. Maybe. 

Having Zoey here would cause a fight. A lot of them. Beth was so insecure and unpredictable. 

"I mean, if you're not okay with that ..." Beth said derisively. 

"Huh?" Jeez, I must've checked out there. 

"I said I really need somebody here, I need the money, and if you're not..." Beth continued. 

"No, no, it's fine. I mean, I have no problem with it. Zoey, uh, Zoey is good people..." She's great people. She's hot fucking people. She's walking Viagra. "Besides," I continued, "I don't even live here. What kind of asshole would I be if I had a problem with this?" 

I looked at Zoey, and she was just looking at me. It wasn't that hungry look that seemed to be her default face. Now, it was a pouting look. And not like an "on purpose" pouting look. It was more of a truly apprehensive expression, based on what I was saying, and her damn blue eyes just got big and sad and pathetic behind her glasses. She's not even trying and she just looks, fucking scrumptious! 

Dude! Quit thinking like this. She's going to be living here! So turn it off! 

"Don't worry, Beth," Zoey said. "If he doesn't like me now, he will." 

Jesus, that girl has an evil smirk. 

"Agreed!" Beth said happily. "You'll be the best of friends." 

"Yeah," I forced a chuckle. "Friends." 

I looked at Zoey and approached her. Showing a half-smile, I raised my hand up, asking wordlessly for a high five. She looked at me strangely and awkwardly, and when finally realizing what I was going for, she slowly, almost sarcastically, gave me a soft five. 

Yep, these are the things I did with girls when I was single. Smooth. 

-- 

Two days later, Nikki gathered her things. She and Beth were not speaking. Since, whenever I talked with Beth, she used every opportunity she could to talk shit about Nikki, but in that Disney Channel "Beth" sort of way. It was cute. 

"She was impossible. She left soda cans everywhere. It was like she lived inside of a, um, a trash can at a bowling alley." 

"She left all her dirty towels on the floor in the bathroom. If I wouldn't have minded smelling like Nikki mildew, I could've slept in the bathroom." 

She wasn't funny or anything, but god help her, she tried so hard. 

Beth said two words to her: "Hi" when she knocked on the front door, and "Thanks" when she gave Beth her key. 

When Nikki walked out for the final time, Beth immediately hugged me and started crying. 

Women are confusing. 

I spent the night with Beth that night, and finally being alone, I wanted to fuck. 

Loudly. 

For once, we could both moan and not be concerned with being quiet for a roommate. 

We were cuddled in bed, spooning, and I put my arm over her, tucking it underneath her breasts while we were laid down. Then, I began kissing her neck. Lightly, softly, but with a little nibble. It was enough to make a little moan escape her lips. 

Yes, our sex life was normalizing! 

My hand migrated up over her boobs as her nipple began to harden through her bra and her shirt. Finding the little nub, I squeezed it lightly and ran my finger around it as I lightly sunk my teeth into her ear lobe. 

I felt my cock expand and hit her thigh, and I thrust into her as my nibbles, bites and licks became more passionate. 

But as soon as I humped my cock into her leg, she pulled back and jumped out of bed. 

"Is that all you think about?" Beth said, pulling her shirt down, as it had ridden up slightly. "Can't you just hold me without trying to wave, that, at me?" she said, frustrated, pointing at my tented shorts. "I'm just, I..." she forced out before running to the bathroom and closing the door. 

I just laid there, rubbing my dick and looking up to the ceiling. Then, getting progressively louder, I heard sobs from behind the door. 

I got up and walked toward the bathroom, ready to say something. But I knew from experience. 

Be quiet. Or deal with the consequences. 

Women are sooo fucking confusing! 

--- 

I ended up sleeping on the couch that night. I was waiting in the bed for her once she came out of the bathroom and I made sure to hug her tight. Just hold her, like she wanted. 

It still felt awkward, so I kissed her lightly on her cheek. And she groaned, upset. 

I froze. I was just trying to be nice and comfort her for whatever the hell it was that was bothering her, because I couldn't even keep track at this point. Eventually, I lifted my arm off of her and laid on my back and stared at the ceiling. That lasted for about five minutes, replaying the situation in my head and just ... pondering. Neither of us touching each other. 

I got up and told her I was going to get a glass of water, asking her if she needed anything. She said nothing. 

Fuck this. 

I got my drink and just crashed on the couch. 

-- 

In the morning, in pure Beth style, she woke up like she had no care in the world, coming to the couch and kissing me on my cheek to say good morning. 

Whatever. 

"Do you have any plans today?" she asked me. 

"No, just reading a bit. You know, finals are in two weeks." 

"Will you be around at noon or so?" 

"Uh, yeah, sure. Why?" 

She exhaled. "I need to work at 11 and Zoey was going to move in today. She doesn't have anybody to help her. Could you wait here for her and help?" 

My eyes got big and my breath caught in my throat. "Uh, um, I don't know. I might be studying then..." No, you dumb shit. You'll be around. And you know it! 

"You just said you'd be around. It should only take like an hour." 

"But, doesn't she, like, have some guy that could help her?" 

"She has no boyfriend and she just moved here for school, and..." Beth stopped and just looked at me. She just pulled out her stink eye! 

"I knew it. You don't like her!" Beth accused me. No, I like her TOO MUCH! 

"It's not that. It's just..." It's just that you're scared of her? Scared of what she'll say or do? Wondering if you'll catch a glimpse of her in a bra once she's living here? Or maybe even a naked glimpse? 

"It's just what?" Beth pushed. 

Shit. I had to come up with something. Anything. 

"She is just, like you told me... Inappropriate. I just worry you'll, I don't know..." 

She got a really sad, yet angry look on her face. She turned her head away from me and made that grunt noise she always made when she was insulted or upset. 

"I'll what? Freak out? Freak out that she might say 'slut'?" Beth said, whispering that final word sarcastically. "Or 'whore'? Or 'fuck'? Why does everybody worry that I'm going to freak out?!" 

I violated the rule. I acknowledged it. 

Her secret. 

What had happened to her. 

That she was sensitive. 

Different. 

I wonder if Zoey even knew about it? I doubted it. Either way, I fucked up yet again. 

"I just, nevermind," I said, reserving myself. "I'll be here. At noon. Don't worry." 

She continued shaking her head. "Good," she said with a shade of anger in her voice. "I'm going to take a shower and get ready for work." With that, she disappeared. 

To be honest, I kind of didn't care about Zoey at that point. I was just so exhausted from seeing Beth be broken. And though I would never admit it to her, I was sick and tired of trying to fix her. 

I'm just a dumb, immature 20-year-old guy with dumb, immature 20-year-old thoughts. I'm NOT a saint and I'm NOT perfect. I won't always say the right thing. And goddammit, that needs to be OKAY! 

-- 

"Ok, I'm off," Beth announced, her voice full of melancholy. "You'll, um, be here?" 

"Yes, don't worry about it." 

I continued sitting on her couch while she was at the door, ready to leave. I was hardly making eye contact, and when I did, I forced it. But not too much, since I had absolutely no right to be upset. I wondered if I should hug or kiss her goodbye. But the mental gymnastics were too much. 

If I hug her, she might get sad. 

If I kiss her, she might get upset. 

I just wasn't smart enough to play the cause-effect game with her. So I stayed put. 

She didn't advance toward me either. She just turned the handle. 

"Bye," she said, as she opened the door and left. 

I continued sitting there, picking up that Yeats book again. And read about Crazy Jane on her day of judgment: 

'Love is all 

Unsatisfied 

That cannot take the whole 

Body and soul'; 

And that is what Jane said. 

'Take the sour 

If you take me 

I can scoff and lour 

And scold for an hour.' 

"That's certainly the case,' said he. 

I got out my notebook, and wrote a few more lines, adding to that unfinished poem that Zoey interrupted a few days earlier, trying to free-write. 

Many nights spent in abject 

Desire. 

Sitting in Sybil's bedroom 

It smelled of poison ivy and lye 

"Make the bed before you go," 

her voice cracked, 

then she broke into a soliloquy about nightingales 

As I thought with passion about 

brushing my teeth 

I didn't even know what was going on in my own mind. I scrutinized my lines when I heard a knock. 

I knew it was her. 

And I didn't really care. So I opened it to see Zoey, her hands behind her back, expectant. I barely looked at her. But it was impossible not to acknowledge that she was wearing short jean shorts and a casual black tank top with a yellow and gray sports bra underneath, the straps quite evident, peeking out from underneath her tank. For the first time, I saw an outline of her torso, and she seemed to have an athletic and toned stomach and ass to along with her ridiculous rack. I could see everything, to be honest. And remaining honest, I kind of didn't care. For once, I turned my mind off to her feminine wiles. 

"Hey," I grunted, opening the door before walking back to the couch. "Come in." 

As I sat, she walked inside, slowly. "Nice to see you too, roomie," she smiled, trying to break whatever tension was in the room. 

"Oh god, don't start," I said, exasperated. "Where's your stuff?" 

"It's, uh, in the parking lot. And..." She walked over the couch, sitting next to me. Probably too close to me. I instinctively moved down the couch, further away from her. "And what do you mean, 'don't start?'" Her voice adopted an annoyed tone that I hadn't heard from her before. 

I threw my hands in the air. "The cutesy shit! That's what! The hitting on me crap. The little notes. I get it, you like making me squirm for whatever reason. But you're living with my fucking girlfriend now. So, stop it. OK?" I just gave zero fucks at that point. I was pissed and I didn't need this vile temptress complicating things. 

Her eyes were big. She looked, well, shocked. 

"And he actually talks! I'm impressed." She gave me a look that showed that she was impressed. Truly. Then she cracked a smile. A flirty smile. Because every damn smile this girl had could be construed as "flirty". Damn girl just oozed sex whether she was trying or not. Gah, this is my point! She needs to stop it! 

"I just, don't... whatever!" I said, again getting exasperated. "Let's move your shit, okay?" 

I got up and walked out the door. She followed and, for the moment, we were all business. I wanted to get this done and over with, and get the fuck out of there. She had a tiny $15 U-Haul, filled with boxes and little bits of furniture. 

I grabbed a big box. "Can you pile another one on top please?" I asked her. She grabbed a smallish one and placed it on the big box I was already holding. It was still light. "I can handle about one or two more," I told her. 

"Hmm, showing off are we?" she teased me, making eye contact with me and giggling before placing another box on. I don't think she saw my eye roll. 

She grabbed a couple garbage bags full of stuff and followed up behind me. The walk to the apartment was long. She parked in the far lot, for one, and we had to go up four flights. Thank goodness I had started working out. I didn't get as tired as I used to when I was out of shape. 

"I'll say it again," she said to break the silence. "I am impressed. You're barely breaking a sweat. Good to know we will have a strong man around the house in case one of us girls needs something fixed." She slowly descended into a little girl voice as she said that. It was so damn cute and sexy. And annoying. I sighed, angrily. 

"Well, I am breaking a sweat," I informed her. "It's hot out here. And maybe I wouldn't break a sweat if you parked any closer than the fucking East parking lot." 

"Somebody got up on the wrong side of bed this morning," she said as we reached the second flight of stairs. "Did my roomie not go down on you long enough last night?" 

I froze at that statement. What. The. FUCK? 

"What?" I groaned, my voice cracking, losing that resolve I'd had since she showed up. 

"I mean, not that I'd blame her," she continued. "I'm pretty sure my jaw would cramp on that big thing two minutes into it." I couldn't see her, since she was obstructed by a pile of boxes. But damn, in my mind, I could imagine the face she was making. 

It was her damn "sexy hunger" face. That "daring" face. I fucking knew it. It had to have been. 

I said nothing. No reaction. Just made my way into the apartment and to her bedroom. I began to drop the boxes and... 

"Owww!" I wailed. 

The boxes landed on my hard cock head as I put them down. Fell right on top of it and nearly broke the damn thing in half! Great, she got me hard with that shit. Wonderful. 

I immediately crumbled to the floor in shocked pain as one of lighter boxes tumbled from the top and fell onto the floor. That HURT. Spraining your dick HURTS! 

"Shit!" I cursed, my hands going to my crotch, but trying to hide my deflating hardness. 

"Oh my god, what happened?" 

I was ready to respond, but doing so would also give away the information that she got me hard. I wasn't in the mood to even disclose this injury... to her! 

"The... fuck... box and it... God, FUCK!" 

She half-laughed with her mouth wide open as she looked at my crotch and pieced together what happened. "Oh-oh-oh sweetie, I'm sorry. That couldn't have felt good." 

"You THINK!?" I was more in shock and embarrassed as this injury than hurt, but it was a strange pain I'd never felt before. Like getting kicked in the nuts, but different. 

Suddenly, like it was instinct, and without any fanfare, the fucking girl grabbed my cock, still tenting my shorts, and began to rub it. 

Oh my fucking GOD! 

She angled her big eyes up at me, looking at me from behind her glasses, biting her pink lip. 

"Are you okay?" she asked with a pouty voice, looking down at it then back up at me. 

I stayed still, in shock. To be honest, Beth had never even given me a handjob. In fact, it was the first time a girl ever touched my dick with her hand. 

This whole situation was sending wild jolts up my spine, scrambling my brain. 

Again. What. The. FUCK? 

I knew I had to stop it. She had crossed a line. Obviously. 

But she had such a grip on it, half loose and half firm, just the way I grab myself. She was rubbing right under the head, dancing her fingers over my most sensitive spots. 

Jeez, this girl knew what she was doing. 

I had to stop this. I had to. But, but... goddamn... maybe a little longer. Just a bit. 

I felt my cock instantly re-inflate, then flex repeatedly as the tingling feeling traveled up the shaft. Dang, was I already going to cum? 

She didn't take her gaze off of mine. But the smile left her face, and instead, she bit her lip again, squinting her eyes as they filled with... lust? Focus? I've only seen that look in porn before. That had to be what it was. Whatever it was, I fucking liked it! 

I let it go on for about a minute, but I had to stop it. I had to. For Beth. 

"W ... w ... what are ... you need to ..." 

I managed to squirm away from her grip. She looked disappointed, but, somehow, proud. 

"I, uh... need to go to the bathroom," I gasped, turned around and literally ran to the bathroom, closing the door. 

I sat on the toilet, my shorts still on, breathing heavily. What the fuck just happened? Like, what in the actual fuck just happened? 

This living arrangement is going to be much worse than I ever imagined. What the fuck am I going to do? 

Unconsciously, I was tugging at my cock. It was rock hard, twitching almost, and my pain was pretty much gone. Or at least ignored. She WAS a vile temptress. 

In almost a fit of passion, I snatched my shorts, brought them to my knees, wrapped my hand around my cock and started masturbating as if my life depended on it. I had just lost it. 

Was I jerking off while she was on the other side of the door? Probably listening? 

I exhaled and kept going. Then she interrupted me out of my haze. 

"Don't forget to wash your hands when you're done," Zoey hollered in from the other side of the bathroom door. "I don't want my stuff having gross boy smells on it." 

I heard her giggle, and the sound of her voice just pushed me over. Just seconds after her giggle, I came hard, shooting all the floor, completely forgetting to grab a tissue. I might have lost control and grunted. And if the far away giggle I heard was any indication, I probably did. 

And, since she planted the idea in my mind, I washed my hands. 

A minute later, I emerged from the bathroom. She was nowhere to be seen. I peeked in her room. In Beth's room. In the kitchen. Nothing. 

I was headed toward the pickup to see if I could find her when she burst through the door, holding a little box that probably weighed five pounds. 

And she was wearing nothing but her shorts and her sports bra. Sweet baby Jesus. 

She walked right past me, bumping her hip into me playfully as she passed, heading into her bedroom. She soon emerged out, sans box, just standing there in her sports bra, her right arm elevated as she rubbed the back of her neck. 

"You're right. It was hot out there," she said in a husky voice, lowering her right arm and bringing it back to her side, her finger tracing the side of her bra slowly as her arm lowered. "I hope you don't mind." 

Without a care in the world, she walked toward me. She played her intense eye contact game with me, staring through me, with hunger, as she approached. Then, like she didn't have a care in the world, she walked past me, tugging at my shirt as she did. 




Resurrection of Crazy Jane Pt. 02



"Maybe you should lose the shirt," I heard her say from behind me. "A lot more moving left out there. You'll get hot." 

Still shocked, and unfortunately getting hard yet again, I turned around and just saw her ass shimmy in those shorts as she walked outside. 

My God. 

-- 

I eventually relented and took my shirt off. I held out that first trip after the handjob episode, but it really was hot. It made me feel much better. 

But oddly, she carried herself like nothing even happened. A couple smiles. Conversation to make the moving easier, especially when moving big stuff like her bed and dresser. 

I just might get out of this alive! 

I kept sneaking peeks at Zoey, and I was just in shock at how perfect her body was. How could she be this slim and toned? And that stacked? It boggled the mind. How in the heck did she not have every joker in this apartment complex sniffing after her? Dressed like she was? 

But then again, look how I was dressed. Here I am, wearing only shorts, helping a girl move. I'm actually kind of built now, I guess. So people might think I could actually handle myself in a fight. People didn't need to know I was a pansy that had never thrown a punch. 

I took stock of the situation. Here I am, with this gorgeous girl, and I'm actually not embarrassed to have my shirt off and help her move her things. 

It was a surge of confidence. 

We were nearly done moving her in. Just a dresser and a wooden frame for a king size bed. We tackled the dresser first, and I moved it over on its side as she grabbed the other end, and we went upstairs together. 

As we walked, we simply exchanged looks at each other, like star-crossed teenagers stealing glances under the watchful eyes of their parents. At least, that's what she looked like. I had no idea what I looked like and what my body language was saying. But I assume whatever I was doing, it was encouraging her and all of her sports-bra-clad plans. 

Dammit. 

My head was just jumbled up. I was faithful to Beth. I didn't want to cheat on her. She was my girlfriend. 

But Zoey was making it incredibly hard, no pun intended. This whole situation made me feel like I had no choice in the matter. I'd never had somebody be this forward, throwing herself at me. 

This was a new experience. 

When I was younger, I'd have girls kick me in the nuts, call me ugly, and run away. I got the nerve to ask a girl out during my junior year of high school, and she literally laughed in my face. If I had to hear another "you're such a good friend" speech from a girl, so help me, I was going to lose my damn mind. 

Like I said, girlfriends happened for other people. Not me. 

That's why I decided I was going to work out. Buy a new wardrobe. Something. Because I was sick of it. Something had to change. 

Then Beth happened. And that's just how it went. It happened. There was no awkward "Will you go out with me" question. She liked me and I liked her. After a long-winded flirtation, it happened, and now, we're a couple. 

She deserved respect for that. She gave me a chance. Nobody else was willing to even give me a chance. 

Then comes Zoey, an obviously mentally-ill girl, probably collecting virgin types like me, hunting us for sport? How sick is that? Why find a guy you're not attracted to and titillate him until he's mush? For the ego boost? 

How selfish! 

At long last, we got the dresser up, which was much lighter than it looked. After grabbing pieces of her bed frame, all we had left to move was the last piece - her headboard for her bed. It was some fancy engraved thing, and it felt like it was made out of solid stone. 

And why in the hell did she have a king size bed anyway? 

"Jesus Christ, how is this thing so damn heavy?!" I tried to carry it by myself, but its width made it awkward. I just couldn't get my arms around it and there was really nothing else supporting its weight aside from my fingertips. 

"Quit showing off," she laughed as she began to take one side from me. "I'll grab one side and we'll take it up together." 

I repositioned and she took up the other side, and slowly, we took it up. 

I can tell she wasn't really supporting much weight as it barely felt any lighter to me. But at least we had it off the ground. 

The whole way, she kept looking at me and smiling, then looking downward. She was just so calculating. Giving me these looks on purpose because she knew it would make me insane. 

Real or not, her stupid looks were exciting. I couldn't control how it made my spine tingle. 

Nonetheless, it was all uncomfortable. I couldn't wait to drop this off and flee, pretending none of this ever happened. 

I grunted up the stairs, but eventually made it. Once we dropped it off in her room, I immediately sat down on the floor to catch my breath. 

"Fuck, was that thing made out of solid gold or something?" I complained. 

She sat down next to me. She had grabbed a couple waters from the fridge and gave one to me as she slid just inches away from me. 

"Nope," she said. "Just the finest hard wood money can buy." 

"Clever," I retorted sarcastically. I exhaled and took a drink. Feeling self-assured after moving her things, I decided to talk with her about some things that were bothering me. 

"So, uh, excited about living here?" I started with the small talk. 

"Not as much as you," she teased, rubbing her hand on my thigh for a second before snatching it away. I just grunted. I had something I had to get off my chest. 

"Well, listen," I said, ignoring her comment. "Please do me a favor. Living here, just, remember that Beth is, um, a really, really sweet girl, okay? Don't, you know..." 

I was stumbling over myself. I needed to get out my thought, but it was so hard. No, not that. Ok, maybe it was. Kinda. 

"Spit it out, Shakespeare. A sensuous man doesn't stutter." 

I just glared at her. "That!" I burst out. "That shit right there! She doesn't need to hear that stuff. She doesn't like the sex talk. The innuendoes. She thinks it's vulgar. So don't do it when she's around, okay? It might, um, make her upset." 

"Aww, little Beth can't handle her hard K's, huh?" she said defiantly. "Like 'cock' and 'fuck'?" 

God damn, she made me squirm. Jesus! 

"I'm serious!" I erupted. "If you want to be happy and drama-free living here, trust me. Just don't do it. Best behavior. OK?" 

She cocked her head and looked at me with a wicked grin. "So, you said 'when she's around,'" she said, suddenly moving her face closer to mine. I just looked straight ahead and shivered. "What about when she's not around?" she half-whispered, so close to me that I could feel her breath on my face. 

"That too, OK!" I said with resolve. "You need to stop this shit! We're just going to be fucking friends, got it?!" 

"Hmm, fucking friends?" she said in her high-pitched, sexy voice. "I think I can do that." 

With that, she again put her hand on my thigh, and I swear I hardened to my apex in three seconds flat. Her hand ran higher, eventually bumping my shaft. "Fucking friends when Beth isn't around," Zoey cooed. "Got it." 

I flexed my cock at her touch, feeling as her index finger began to trace it. But it was too much. 

"That ... that's it!" I yelled, getting up quickly from my sat position. "I have to go. I have to get out of here." I began looking around frantically for my shirt. 

"But who's going to help me put together my bed?" she said in a whiny, pouty voice. 

"Nobody!" I shouted. I found my shirt, grabbed it and put it back on. And looking at her, I realized I still had an obelisk stuffed in my shorts. So, I looked at her, adjusted my hard-on straight up under my waistband, like it was spiting her. She chuckled. But I was serious! I was pissed! 

I gave her one last look, searching her face for something. Anything. 

All I saw was a look of satisfaction. That's the only way I could describe it. Are you fucking kidding me? 

I just turned around, grabbed my keys, and stormed the hell out of there. 

To be continued...



Resurrection of Crazy Jane Pt. 03



The third installment of our tale... please be sure to read the first two or none of this business will make sense.

Also, when I first uploaded, I accidentally had several paragraphs from chapter one on the front of it and didn't catch it. If you gave a low rating because of that, please be awesome and re-rate?

I said before the start of chapter 2 that I don't need your praise. Turns out that's a damn dirty lie!

=======================

"Oh my God, is that you?" she said, looking at me with a huge smile. "Damn, you got hot!"

I looked at Misty, dumbfounded. Then I immediately looked behind me, assuming she was talking to somebody else.

At one time, she was my crush du jour. The one I obsessed about. I even have some terrible three-year-old poetry written about her. A little pixie brunette with big brown eyes and a wide, toothy smile ... it's easy to get into this girl.

"I'm talking to you, dork. Dannnngggg..." she said with her trademark open-mouthed smile, giving me a look that reminded me of Zoey.

A look that connotated hunger.

It was a Tuesday and I had entered the University library desperately looking to kill time. I had nothing at all to do.

I hadn't gone to Beth's place for three days and I sure as hell didn't see Zoey. No trips to the bookstore either. I just focused on catching up on homework, starting on some papers, and laying low.

Bullshit, I was hiding out. Toma-toe, Tom-ah-toe.

And no sooner that I walked into the library, intent on doing God knows what in the computer lab, did I run into Misty.

The fire was still there a bit. She was a knockout, and she had the tight, petite look going for her. And I'm sure she could crack walnuts with her thighs. It was a gymnast thing.

Freshman year in college, I misread some signals from Misty when we had a chemistry lab together. I asked her out, and despite barely knowing her, got a "just a friend" speech. She added in a tale of a "really hot guy" she likes, and that was that.

I should've known. She was so far out of my league.

She still was.

Misty and I used talk and she'd drone on about all her boys, all the boys that were in love with her, and I just smiled and nodded. I was also her pet for a time. She'd have me follow her as she ran errands all around campus.

Of course I began to want her. My freshman crush. One of many as I desperately looked for a girl. Any girl.

Standing in the foyer of the library, I was looking directly at her mouth and this smile she was flashing, one I'd never seen before out of her. Not like this. I was trying not to sneak glances at her chest. Even though I'd be surprised if she even filled a B-cup, I kept looking.

I was a tit guy. Habits are hard to break.

But her proclamation that I was looking "hot," was, honestly, shocking.

"Misty... you're talking to... me?"

She rolled her eyes and grinned even wider, fidgeting slightly. Cavalierly, she reached her hand out to me, and unapologetically, ran her hand along my bicep as her expression became deadly serious.

"I remember you asked me out once," she reminded me. "And I'm... willing to reconsider."

Seriously? What in the actual fuck is going on with the world?

"Uhhh, thanks. But I have a girlfriend, Misty."

At least I think I still do.

"Shit! Well, figures. Just... damn, dude!"

I know I blushed at that. All these compliments lately, whether it was from Misty or Zoey, were just too much. As I blushed, she leaned up and kissed me on my cheek.

"If that girlfriend doesn't work out, find me. Friend me on MySpace, K?"

What the hell is a MySpace?

Regardless, she walked off, looked back at me, and smiled.

All these girls are nuts!

It had been a bit of a wacky few days. "Wacky" because nothing happened.

Let's call a spade and spade - I was avoiding all these broads. Beth. Zoey. Any other temptress that pranced along.

Like Misty.

Any of these women were just trouble.

I thought obsessively about my episode with Zoey. What in the hell was that even about?!

The only explanation that made sense was that Beth put her up to it. She was testing me. To see if I would stay loyal in the face of temptation. It was obvious.

So, I was busted.

I was just waiting for the other shoe to drop. It made sense, since all weekend, Beth didn't return my calls. Before I headed to the library, I was supposed to have creative writing class with her.

And she wasn't there.

Yep, she was definitely pissed at me.

Christ, maybe I should have gotten Misty's number.

As I scaled the stairs to the computer lab, I saw an old friend from high school, Jon, come down the stairs with a look of relief on his face. With his backpack hanging over his shoulder, he made eye contact with me and began laughing.

"Ho-lee shit!" Jon exclaimed as he came down toward me, giving me a bro-handshake as we stopped in the middle of the stairs. "I thought the fucking succubus ate you."

Before I could say anything, he grabbed my hand, focusing on my index finger, and sniffed it.

"Congratulations. Your finger smells faintly of pussy," he said, mock impressed. "It no longer smells like the fromundacheese from your balls."

I blushed and grinned, getting that he implied that I finally, at long last, had sex. "And how do you know what my balls smell like?" I asked him, matching his bullshit.

"Your mom told me," he grinned smugly as he grabbed my arm and motioned for me to walk down the stairs with him. "Dude, I haven't seen you at all. Pussy that good, huh?"

"Yeah," I said sheepishly, somewhat lying. "So what are you up to?"

"Heading to my brother's house. Just got done doing college algebra homework and I'm so over fucking school. So I was going to bring some beer and we're going to hang out. Want to come?"

What else was I going to do? Certainly not study.

"Sure," I said. "I need to get the fuck off this campus. Clear my head."

-----

I jumped in Jon's car and we headed to his brother's house. I'd known Jon since the 9th grade, and he was always this fat guy with zits. But he had a gross, sexually brash sense of humor, and for some reason, he always got women. It was mind-boggling. Granted, he never kept them, but still.

The way he talked to me with all the sex talk, he did that around girls too. I guess it worked. Then again, he also claimed he had a 10-inch cock. So maybe that was it.

His older brother Keith lived out in the boonies, far away from the city, which allowed him to do shit like shoot his gun in the open and bang his wife in the front yard. If possible, he was more of a pervert than Jon.

Since I knew where Keith lived, I could tell when Jon wasn't going to his house.

"I thought your brother lived down the highway," I asked him. "Where are we going?"

"There's this girl I need you to meet," he said with a shit-eating grin.

There was always a girl Jon wanted me to meet. This guy had a new target every other week. Mostly (as in 99% of the time) the girls were embarrassed that he was sniffing up their crotches. It was kind of cute, to be honest. But every once in awhile, the girl in question actually went for it.

He began turning down familiar roads. Then past the Northwoods Shopping Center. Then he pulled up in front of ...

"The bookstore?" I asked, turning white.

"Holy shit, wait until you see this girl. She..."

"But this is where Beth works."

"No way? Maybe she could hook it up?"

"Hell no. She fucking hates you. Remember when you told her that a hat she was wearing made her 'look like a man-hating bull dyke?'"

He smiled proudly. "Well, she does have broad shoulders."

"Fucker," I muttered back.

Excitedly, he began to get out of his car and I just froze there.

"Hurry the fuck up!" he tried to command me. "Wait until you see this chick!"

I knew Beth was going to yell at me. She was going to see me and she was going to yell at me.

"I, uh, I'll stay in car," I told him.

"Dude, I need you as my wingman. I'm going to close the deal with this girl!"

Bros before hos, right? Jon was an idiot. I knew this. He always annoyed me. Made fun of me for writing poetry and all the other "pussy shit" I did.

So what if she was there? I needed to clear the air, anyway. I'll just convince her that Zoey came onto me. Mostly. Right?

Zoey. Fuck, she could be working tonight too.

Jon popped the passenger door wide open, grabbed me by the hand and pulled me out.

"I don't care why your vagina's hurting," he told me. "Come on!"

Slowly, I followed him into the bookstore as he blathered on, lost in my own mind. Worried about what Beth would say when she saw me.

But we walked in. And Beth was nowhere to be found.

Was she off tonight? I thought she worked most Tuesday nights.

I was half relieved and half disappointed. We needed to work this shit out.

"Dude, I see her," Jon said as he smacked me in the shoulder, telling me to come with him.

Down the self-help aisle, at the end, I saw Zoey.

She looked straight at me exploding into a huge smile.

Then she started fucking sprinting towards us. Fuck, she's going to plant a hug on me.

"There she is!" Jon said, and I gave him a double take. Before I could process it, she dove at Jon, giving him a huge, giggly hug.

"My friend!" she said to Jon as I no doubt had a wide-eyed look on my face.

Just what in the hell is going on?

As she held him in an embrace, she looked at me over his shoulder, glaring up lustily with her big blue eyes and blowing me a kiss.

All thoughts of Beth were gone. Mostly because this one move of Zoey fucking hugging Jon scrambled my damn brain.

She climbed off him and Jon wiggled his eyebrows in quiet celebration, telling me wordlessly to check his girl out.

His girl? Whatever.

"Zoey," Jon began, "I'd like you to meet my fr..."

"...Oh, no need for introductions," she said, smiling widely at me. "We've met."

Quietly, and slowly, she moved in to kiss me on my "cheek." I use the word "cheek" loosely, since she planted her bright pink lips a half-inch away from the corner of my mouth. Her slow approach made the kiss very tender.

"How's my sensuous man doing tonight?"

I felt a chill of fear and excitement rush up my spine. She used her private pet name for me ... around somebody else! Plus, the look on Jon's face, which had descended into pure shock, was priceless.

It was his turn to have his brain scrambled.

"Hi Zoey. How's my second-favorite girl doing?" I was beaming with pride. Ever since I met Jon, he had made a habit of intercepting or distracting any girl I was into. It was my turn.

I don't care what anybody says - cock blocking is FUN!

"I'd be doing better if I'd actually seen you lately," she said, her bottom lip stuck out in a full pout. "You were supposed to come over. And help me. With my bed."

Jon's shock doubled. I immediately figured out what she was doing. We were going to mind fuck Jon.

"I'm sorry, Zoey," I told her with artificial confidence beaming in my voice. "I suppose I left it a mess the last time I was in your room."

Zoey laughed heartily. "Yeah," she giggled. "Things did get kind of out of control."

This girl is pure evil.

"Wait wait. Back the fuck up!" Jon finally interrupted. "You two?"

Zoey and I looked at each other and smirked. Which of us was going to answer? We tried to discuss it with our eyes. Finally, she squinted her eyes at me as she held her smirk. She was going to take this one.

"Well, him. Me. His girlfriend," she said, biting her lip and looking at Jon. "It's quite the arrangement."

Jon just looked at me. I shrugged and blushed. Technically, Zoey answered the "You two?" question with complete truthfulness.

"You mother..." he began to say to me before Zoey interrupted.

"My break is coming up," she said to Jon in a girlier-than-normal voice, batting her eyelashes. "Buy me a frappucino?"

"Yes!" he exclaimed happily, eager to drop this awkwardness and do her bidding. He had to be on his best behavior. As I said, it was cute. "I'll get you a mocha, no whip. Just how you like it."

"Perfect," she said before sidling up to him, putting her hand on his shoulder. "Maybe next time, we'll incorporate the whip."

His eyes got gigantic, and excitedly, he ran off to get her coffee.

As he left, she just looked at me with a satisfied grin. "You know Jon?" she said innocently. "Small world."

I just shaked my head at her. "You're pure fucking evil, you know that?"

She smiled back with a "who, me?" expression, and again, she moved to me, giving me another soft kiss, closer to my lips now. This time, it wasn't for the benefit of Jon.

"I've missed you. We've missed you." she told me, her hands on my chest. "Beth would love to see you tonight."

I looked at her incredulously. "Uh, Beth wants to see me?" I asked sheepishly.

"Uh, yeah!" she said as if I was an idiot. "As you told me numerous times, she's your girlfriend," she said with a knowing look.

As she paused, my shoulders lowered as I was reminded of what I did. What we did.

"Besides," she continued, "she's been sick since Sunday. I've covered her shifts for the past two nights. And you haven't even checked on your girlfriend." She jabbed her fingers into my chest. "You're a bad, bad boyfriend."

Her words, like most of the shit she said, had a double meaning. She was right. I've been a terrible boyfriend. In more ways than one.

"I tried calling," I said to explain myself. "But she ..."

Jon suddenly returned back, interrupting me, and presented Zoey with her frappucino. "Got your coffee, babe," Jon said proudly. She thanked him by running her hand up and down his arm as she took a sip.

"Guys, I'm going to clock out," Zoey said. "Meet me in the lounge in five minutes. Both of you."

She smiled wide and walked away as Jon and I shuffled our ways to the lounge. In that time, he grilled me on Zoey. He wanted her bad. And he was on a need-to-know basis, so I told him little to nothing. Because it was more fun that way. Bro code be damned.

*****

"You're obviously taken, so don't fuck me, you cock blocker!" Jon said with a tone of seriousness. I just sipped on my own frappuccino. "Yeah yeah yeah," I muttered.

We had been sitting for five minutes and Jon regaled me on how she and him met. He works at the movie theater and he'd seen her come in a few times to see movies alone. She asked if he would let her in for free, which he predictably did, and thus began a pretty regular free trip to the movies.

In his version, though, she was hot for him. Again, it was cute.

She was taking advantage of him. How could he not see it? But, he was into her, and ignorance is bliss I suppose.

She finally strolled up, pulling a chair up to the small table made for two. She parked it on the side and her knees touched us both. Jon immediately flashed a grin and paid 100% attention to her.

We made small talk for about two minutes, in which time I think Jon volunteered to do three different things for her, ranging from changing her oil to buying her a skirt she mentioned she had her eye on. She just thanked him with a flirty smile.

She really is evil.

The whole time, I stayed quiet, lost in thought. I really should be livid at her. I breathed easy that Beth was just sick the past few days. That's why she missed class. Nothing personal. No harm, no foul, right?

Then I thought about why Zoey did what she did during the moving day. If it wasn't an elaborate hoax to test my loyalty to Beth, then what was it?

I noticed her interacting with Jon. The way she did it was so cold and calculating.

She was ready to bleed my poor buddy for every cent he was worth and every spare minute he had. All in service of her.

Was she doing that with me?

She had never asked me for anything. Not once. The only thing that came close was the moving incident, but Beth asked me.

I never gave Zoey anything. She only gave things to me. Like the book I had yet to open a second time. And I suppose she gave me a handjob, which is technically altruistic.

Seeing how she is with Jon, even if she is manipulating him, she's obviously outgoing and confident. That's part of her allure, I suppose. She's confident. And confidence is contagious.

And Zoey was contagious. She was like a beautiful disease.

But there's no motivation for her to do with me what she has. She gets nothing out of it. Except me.

Then it hit me like a ton of bricks.

Zoey really does like me.

I sat back and wrapped my head around that. Zoey. Likes. Me?

"Something just made him excited," Zoey said to me suddenly with a shit-eating grin. "Thinking about me in a bikini, Shakespeare?"

"If he's not, I am," Jon said before I could say anything.

"Nothing like that," I said, trying to give Zoey a knowing a grin. "Uh, I, uh, just thought of something funny."

She gave me a crooked look, searching me like I was a math problem she was trying to figure out. And it certainly wasn't calculus.

"Bullshit," she said, her eyes squinted. "I know a horny look when I see it. That is to say, I know your horny look."

Then I felt a finger tap against the head of my dick. I reflexively flexed my cock, noticing that I apparently tented down my pant leg to my full apex. I looked up as Zoey giggled, biting her lip.

Fuck, here we go again.

"Seriously?!" Jon gasped. But we both pretty much ignored him.

"I ... I ... I'm not horny," I said, panicking inside but trying to play it cool. "Seriously, it was just something funny. It was a rerun of 'The Fresh Prince of Bel Air' I saw the other day. Carlton's a riot."

Zoey gave me a confused look that shouted "bullshit" to me. As if to prove her point, she wrapped her hand around my cock head and squeezed.

Not again! I was in this weird place where I couldn't win. I could've squirmed away, which would have been the thing to do, but Jon was sitting right here. And, overflowing with jealousy, he was watching us like a hawk.

So, that option was out.

I could say something. But, similar problem. Nobody could know what was going on under this table.

Then, there was the option of doing nothing. I sit here, take it, and let her continue to rub me. And hope it ends soon.

But, disastrously, I was so fucking turned on by Zoey that I couldn't help being at my apex of hardness, probably twitching as my cock ached for release, which would do nothing but encourage her.

Paralyzed by inaction, of course I took the final option. And as I would later find out, it did fucking encourage her.

Mercifully, though, she snatched her hand away from my cock quickly as one of her co-workers approached our table. It was her manager, an older woman named Sheila.

"Zoey, things are pretty dead tonight," Sheila said. "Since you're just covering for Beth anyway, if you want to clock out early and take the rest of the night off, you can."

Zoey looked at both Jon and myself, then once again squeezed my dick and gave us both devilish grins. "Sure, Sheila," Zoey announced. "I'll take off." She squeezed my cock head even harder this time. "Thank you."




Resurrection of Crazy Jane Pt. 03



As soon as Sheila took off, Zoey got a look of inspiration in her eyes. "Which one of you guys is driving?"

****

I needed to figure out a way to tell Zoey to back off.

And if it was going to happen, it had to happen now.

Jon was driving, and I offered to sit in back so Zoey could be in front. That would make Jon happy and it would keep Zoey away from me.

Then, she crawled in back next to me. Jon looked like he was going to fucking kill me. All I could do was shrug with my eyes. I was regretting going in cahoots with Zoey to fuck with Jon's mind earlier. All it did was give her a partner in crime, and that's the last thing this fucking Lizzie Borden needed.

As he got out his cell phone to call his brother and tell him we weren't going to make it, since plans had obviously changed, Zoey was removing all pretense.

She leaned in closely and brought her moist lips to my ear. I nearly moaned at the sensation as a surge of surprise and excitement travelled from my brain stem, down my spine, and resting right in my damn dick.

"I want you to come home with me," she whispered hungrily in my ear, her warm breath tickling and teasing me. "I want you to fuck the shit out of your girlfriend, and I want to listen through the walls ..."

My eyes damn near bugged out of my head, and if I wasn't hard before, this human Viagra certainly made sure I was now. And of course, this little cock hound noticed. Just as I felt my cock flex as it ballooned to its full length, she placed a hand on it and began slowly and quietly stroking me through my pants.

"... And when she moans, I want to pretend I'm the one getting fucked by this huge cock."

I swallowed hard as my heart threatened to beat out of my chest. I was in my default state, half annoyed with her advances and half lusted out of my fucking mind.

Is all of this really happening to me right now? In real life?

"Zoey ... I ..." I began to whisper back to her before she interrupted me.

"... I didn't say I would fuck you. Just that I wanted to pretend. It's just a fantasy. Nothing wrong with a fantasy, right? That doesn't break any rules."

I began to protest. But fuck if the little cock tease didn't have a point. Fantasy isn't cheating, right? It's all just pretend.

And I noticed that she didn't ask me to fantasize about her. She was asking me if she could fantasize. That leaves me completely scot free.

Aside from her hand on my cock right now. But we can deal with that later.

"I like to listen," she kept going, in sensuous moist whispers. "I like to watch," she added, flicking her tongue against my ear lobe. I closed my eyes and sighed.

"Don't you like to watch?" she asked me.

Jon was still on the phone while driving, and I was still frozen solid. Without thinking, I whispered, "Yeah, I guess, but ..."

"We should go pick up your girlfriend," Jon loudly announced to us, with an obvious plea in his voice as he hung up his phone. Slowly, Zoey pulled her hand away from my cock.

"Uh, she can't, man," I told him. "She's sick. That's why Zoey was covering her shift tonight."

"Shit!" he exclaimed. "Well, um, I could pick my sister up," Jon reasoned. "You always liked her, right?"

I just shook my head in exasperation. This poor guy was desperate to get me away from Zoey. Even dangling his little sister under me. Desperate!

"Jonathan," Zoey interrupted, still snuggling with me. "Just what are your plans, young man?"

"I was thinking we hang out at The Creek."

****

Jon pulled up at the creek, several miles out of town. The sun was ready to go down on this summer night as the three of us filed out of his car.

Zoey looked at the sunset and raised her hands into the air, looking up to the sky with a big smile like she had just won a race.

"Oh my God, I love it here!" Zoey announced. "It is so beautiful!" She spun around with arms in the sky, like she was giving God a kiss for all this beauty.

Jon and I just stared at her, her sex-kitten body spinning as a silhouette on the backdrop of the sunset and the babbling creek.

If we had a camera, we could have taken a picture and made money off the royalties for the rest of our lives. It was a glorious scene.

She jogged back over to us, her boobs jiggling in her bookstore polo as she came closer. She sidled up to Jon and gave him a soft kiss on his cheek.

"Thanks for bringing me here, stud," she told him quietly. He made a face that looked like he just won the lottery. And luckily, it removed the tension he felt from me cock-blocking him.

"So, what's the plan, Jon?" I asked.

He got a devious look in his face and pointed underneath a faraway tree.

There was a mattress sitting there.

I gave him a crooked look. So did Zoey. I thought I saw her eyes adjust as she questioned whether she could beat Jon's ass if he tried to rape her on that mattress.

"We're going to ride the mattress down the river."

*****

The name of it was Lowe Creek. The word "creek", though, is highly disingenuous.

Monsoons the past few years made the creek flow like a river. It flowed fast and truth be told, if you didn't know how to swim, you would drown near the deep parts.

A few years back, Jon tried to ask me to go mattress sailing, but it just sounded unsafe. And besides, why in the fuck would I want to ride a mattress, just me and another dude?

But this time was different. Zoey was with us. Boys had to impress girls.

The situation felt more casual at this point. I wasn't worried about Zoey making any moves on me. And since we got to The Creek, she had been much more friendly to Jon. I was a bit jealous about that, honestly, but it was the best thing for all involved.

We got on this king-size mattress, which looked grungy, with water stains all over it. But I told myself that it was stains from previous mattress sailing adventures, a story that Jon confirmed without me even asking. If a bedbug bites me on my sack while we're on the water, so help me ....

It was surprisingly firm and not very flimsy at all. It supported all of our weight with no problem. Zoey and I were sitting on it while John prepared to push it from the shore into the water.

"I wish I knew we were going to do this," Zoey said. "I would have brought my bikini."

Both Jon and I blushed at this, but the little pervert collected himself quickly.

"If you're wearing a bra, that's pretty much the same thing," he said.

Zoey thought about it for a second. "You know, you're right!"

Quickly, she stripped her shirt off, revealing a black lace bra that pushed her tits up to her chin.

Jon, you're a fucking hero.

We stared like idiots at her. Jon went one step further.

"Boi-oi-oi-oing!" Jon yelled, emulating the state of his boner.

"Is that a promise?" Zoey asked Jon, her eyes lidded in lust. "I might have to hold you to that."

Expectantly, Zoey then looked at me, putting her hands up. "Come on, boys. Your turn! I didn't strip for nothing."

My eyes met hers, having played this game before on moving day. Without a hesitation, I took my shirt off and flung it right at Zoey's face. She giggled, looking at me as she took the shirt off of her face. She looked like she was going to eat me for breakfast.

Jon was frozen. He was a chubby guy, and this wasn't part of his plan.

Zoey got close to him, rubbing her hand down his arm before skipping to his thigh without fanfare. He froze.

"Come on Jonny Magnum," she said. "Don't be shy. Strip down to your underwear too. That way you can show off your best feature that you always brag about." As she finished that sentence, she full on grabbed his package.

This girl feared NOTHING.

Like a virgin on his wedding night, Jon got down to his underwear in two seconds flat.

"Come on, Shakespeare," Zoey said to me. "I want to see your little quill. Lose them."

Little quill!?

Defiant, I stripped off my pants and threw them over her head onto the shore.

As I appeared before her, naked down to my blue and green plaid boxers, Zoey licked her lips at me. "Damn ..." she groaned before looking at Jon. He was shyly covering up his manboobs and his gut, but his briefs were tented.

"Damn," she repeated again, looking at Jon. "Jonny Magnum indeed."

He beamed with pride at her comment, his big cock extending to his hip.

I was half hard too, but it was chilling down the leg of my boxers in the dusky light.

Zoey crawled back onto the mattress, a little closer to me than Jon, as we pushed out into the water.

The Creek was calm. We dared not get too far away, which would make us walk back in our underwear back to Jon's car - a concept all of us forgot in our lust. We glided on the mattress, quiet, like we were on a pedal boat. It was quiet, serene, and honestly, romantic.

If there wasn't another dude here.

Zoey didn't pay much attention to us as she was looking at the beautiful painted sunset and its reflection off the water. If possible, the nature around us was more beautiful than Zoey.

Jon, evidently, didn't agree.

He was staring at her bra-encased chest almost obsessively. He even had his hands on his crotch, rubbing his cock absentmindedly.

I, however, was surprisingly chill. I wasn't poking a hole through my boxers. Seeing Zoey in a bra was awesome, but she wasn't outwardly titillating me, which is when my most epic boners are created. Like her, I was relaxed.

We were all so entranced that none of us noticed the rocks in the middle of The Creek.

The creek entered a faster flow as it bounced past the rocks, which unceremoniously flung us ass-first off the mattress into the Creek.

Luckily, we all could swim, and after the shock of the moment, we all started laughing as we bid farewell to the mattress, carried down to the faster flowing portion of the river.

"Holy shit this water's cold!" I complained as I shivered and tread water, keeping myself from the fast flow on the other side of the rock.

Soaked, Zoey's hair hung over her glasses, dripping, as she smiled widely and laughed. Her cleavage shined under the dusky light, floating upward. If I wasn't in freezing water, that hard-on I supposedly didn't have would quickly reverse course.

I looked around, looking for a way out of this place without being caught half-naked, and I saw a trail peeking out from behind some nearby trees on the side of the river where we parked.

"Guys, let's get on that trail and find our way back," I suggested. Everybody giggling and soaked, we found our way back the 500 yards or so we were from Jon's car.

The whole time, Zoey had her arms encircled in ours, like she was displaying us as her men.

One look at her from both of our viewpoints saw one thing ... well, two things.

Her breasts were just balancing there in her bra like a shelf, her cleavage bouncy and reflective. That combined with the sensation of my thigh hitting my hanging cock with every step, and I started to tent my boxers as we walked. I aggressively willed it to go down, but it was out of my control.

"Those are my boys," Zoey said contentedly. "I think I'm hanging out with the two most well hung men in the county tonight, hm?"

I felt my cheeks blush as I looked to Jon, and lo and behold, his cock was tenting as well.

"It's nice that you let numbnuts over there feel like you were talking to him, too," Jon proudly told Zoey. She giggled and gave me a wink.

"Jonny," she said, "So cocky!"

"Oh please," I groaned, laughing. "Both of you have watched too much porn. So cocky," I mocked.

That comment about killed the buzz and they both got annoyed with me. Whatever. This was starting to get ridiculous. My cock agreed, and finally began to wilt.

We kept walking, and I looked down at myself, my half-inflated cock a homing beacon as I walked alongside my also-hard buddy and a half-naked sex kitten of a woman.

Meanwhile, my girlfriend was at home sick while I was out doing whatever this is? How much of an asshole am I?

I was planning a getaway once we got to the car, formulating my plea to get out of there. But in planning some speech about responsibility, Jon went to his trunk, got out a 6'er of warm beer, and a blanket.

"Let's have beers and watch the rest of the sunset," he informed us. Zoey got thrilled and started jumping up and down.

I had to stop this. I had to get the fuck out of this situation.

"Guys, I really need to ..." I began before I saw Jon tossing a beer at me. Shocked, I steadied myself and caught it before it fell on the ground. Just as I avoided that party foul, Zoey grabbed my hand and pulled me to the blanket, which Jon had begun to spread out on the ground.

Ah fuck. It will be over soon, thankfully.

Right?

Jon smoothed out the blanket as I begrudgingly took a seat, still being pulled along by Zoey. She was looking back at me with an excited, wide grin. I kept looking at her body, topless except for a bra.

She was still wearing her work slacks, which got soaked in the mattress incident, and before she sat down, she looked down at us with a sultry look, peeling her slacks off of her body, revealing a pair of black boy shorts.

"You guys make me feel so sexy," she told us, biting her lip as she sat down between us.

Christ, there's no way in hell this will be over soon.

Mercifully, with beer in hand, she decided to cuddle on Jon's shoulder as she gazed to the setting sun. I felt a bit of jealousy bubble up, but I had to remind myself that this was best. Enjoy it, Jonny.

No sooner that she rested her head on him, she began to speak.

"Think anybody can see us here?" she asked us. "Think we're being watched?"

I felt it was best to ignore her. But Jon cured her fears.

"We're pretty shielded by the trees and brush," he said. "You don't have anything to worry about."

"Who said I was worried?" Zoey said, full of innuendo. "If I saw a sexy girl and two well-hung studs hanging out in their underwear by a river, you bet your ass I'm going to watch."

Both Jon and I giggled nervously. We'd been friends since the 9th grade. And we're nerds. Things like this situation didn't happen to us. No matter how cool either of us tried to play it, we were in over our heads. I just wanted to get out of my head and go home.

"You guys trying to say you don't like to watch? That both of you aren't little pervert voyeurs?" Zoey continued, pushing the envelope. We both stayed quiet, shocked. The looks on our faces, I think, just gave this evil woman fuel.

She craned her neck and looked up at me. I avoided eye contact, mostly for self-preservation purposes. "I know you like to watch," Zoey said to me accusingly. "You told me so."

"I never said ..." I began to shout, scoffing.

"Yes you did," Zoey informed me. "I remember it clear as day."

When she was whispering in my ear on the car ride over here. I remember. I began to stammer. FUCK!

"I bet you like to watch," she continued, "jacking your big cock up in the air, trying to get the girl to notice that instead of the man she's with?"

My eyes popped out of my head. "I never! I mean ... " I stuttered, breath catching in my throat. She just gave me a satisfied giggle.

"What about you, Jon?" she changed focus, laying her head against his shoulder and looking up at him. "If you see somebody fucking in front of you, do you watch?"

"Fuck that," he said defiantly. "I'm joining in. I grab one end of the girl and turn her into a pair of Chinese fingercuffs."

Zoey laughed out loud at that, and I felt the feeling of impending doom. I began to visibly squirm in the approaching dusk.

"Mmmm, I like that," Zoey said provocatively. "So you're telling me you'd rather be watched than watch?" As she said that, I saw her hand move down his thigh and toward his underwear. Shit, what the hell is going on?

"Uh, y ... y ... yeah," Jon sputtered out. "I think so."

"Well," Zoey said in summation, her fingers now dancing along Jon's tented underwear, "I like watching and being watched. I think between the three of us, we make a perfect trio, huh?"

Zoey suddenly flipped her body over, lying on her stomach, moving down Jon's body. She looked up at him. Oh shit, is she really...

There's no place like home. There's no place like home. There's no place ...

"Jon ..." she said in her sing-songy voice, rubbing her hands up and down his cock through his underwear. "Has your good friend ever seen your cock down some girl's throat?" She smiled wide and angled her eyes straight at me.

Holy shit. Jon, like me, was fucking speechless. I think I even saw him shaking.

"Well," she giggled, looking back at him. "I think it's about time your friendship entered a whole new phase."

She quickly lifted the waistband of Jon's underwear and fished his long, skinny cock out, sinking her mouth down on it.

What the fuck am I seeing right now?! I felt ill, but my cock was rock hard and I don't think I'd ever been this turned on in my life.

Jon's jaw just hit the ground. He couldn't believe his eyes.

She picked her head up from his cock and smiled at him. "Lay down over there," she told him, angling her eyes over to me as she did so.

Following her lead, he laid on his back, the top of his head pointing to me as his long cock stuck in the air. She wrapped her hand around his shaft, and before she sank her head down on it, she looked straight at me. I felt a chill invade its way up my back. She lowered her lips to my buddy's cock, but was looking straight at me.

My jaw opened wide, and we were all too far gone. One tug on my hard cock that had lifted the leg of my boxers ended up pulling the material back, exposing my fat cock head, poking out the bottom.

Zoey's eyes lidded as my cock head came into view, twitching, and she picked her head off Jon's cock.

"Oh my god, your cock is fucking beautiful," she said to Jon, but looking straight at me. "I want it so bad," she howled as she dove back down on his cock, showing unabashed passion as her face bobbed up and down his length, her left hand jacking his shaft.

I still rubbed my cock through my boxers watching this display, her saliva flowing out all over my friend's dick as she picked her head up, her hair wild. She looked back at me again like a feral animal before shoving her face down again, this time taking him all the way down to the root, gagging as Jon moaned loudly. Quickly, she pulled her face off, giggling proudly at herself for what she just did.

"You're lucky, baby," Zoey said, this time to Jon, looking directly at him. "If your cock was any fatter, I wouldn't have been able to deep throat you." She gave him a few more sucks before talking again. "To be as long as you, but also thick, it would be a rare thing." After saying that, her eyes locked on me, trailing to my tented boxers and my admittedly much fatter dick. "Yes, very rare indeed," she continued, biting her lip before sinking her mouth back on his cock.

From this point forward, she never took her eyes off of me. She was blowing him, but the vibe was that she was doing it to me. It was like a scene from a porno, but the quiet lust of the moment and the lack of inauthentic moaning reminded that this was very real. The fact that her eyes were fucking glued to my crotch was just a ridiculous high.

My resolve was disintegrating - fast.




Resurrection of Crazy Jane Pt. 03



She reached down to her pussy and began wildly stroking herself inside of her underwear, making the frequency of her sucking diminish as she tried to get herself off. She made her blow job more sloppy, popping and sucking, gagging and squishing. Yet, she still never broke her gaze with me.

I remembered her proclamation of what I would do when I watched, flashing my big dick to distract her from the man she was with. She said it, not me.

She planted that idea in my mind because that was her endgame.

My free hand began to stroke the bottom fringe of my boxers as my cock head helplessly peeked out the bottom whether I liked it or not. I thought about it. I was so far gone, and this was already so so so wrong. What's a little more?

And it's impossible to ignore the crazy sexed up look coming from a woman that was simply my dream girl. Let's be honest. I had absolutely no power.

I finally relented, lowering the leg of my boxers and slowly revealing each inch of my throbbing dick until the fabric met the root.

As soon as my cock fully came into view, pushed up into the air, perpendicular to my body, she finally broke her gaze with me, taking her head off of his cock as she began to cum, moaning in a high-pitched grunt.

"Omifucking gawwwwd!" Zoey wailed, riding her orgasm while jacking Jon.

The scene was enough to make Jon cum, his load running down his shaft as he grunted in satisfaction.

The knowledge that the view of my cock pushed her over the edge was too much to bear, and I began to breathe rhythmic and heavy as my cock erupted in an obscene fountain of cum, my moans prompting Zoey to lift her eyes back to me.

When she saw multiple ropes continuing to surge into the air and land on my chest and legs, she shoved her face down to the root on Jon, groaning on his cock as she soaked up whatever cum that was still coating him, making his eyes roll back in his head. Suddenly, she began to moan loudly again on his long cock, and I think she might have cum for a second time.

The afterglow lasted only a few seconds as reality hit me. We were on a blanket, in public, under the beginning of darkness, all covered in cum. Me and my girlfriend's roommate, having just eye-fucked each other, cumming within feet of each other because of each other.

Everybody as breathing heavily, Zoey revealing a satisfied, open-mouth giggle. Jon was in heaven.

And I was covered in my own treasonous cum.

The guilt overtook me like a sledgehammer to the head.

Beth.

What in the FUCK did I just do to Beth?



Resurrection of Crazy Jane Pt. 04



I sat in the parking lot of the apartment complex where Beth lived, and I just stared at my knuckles. They were gripping the steering wheel and were solid white. To be honest, I was still almost shaking from adrenaline. 

"You're dead, motherfucker! You're fucking dead!" 

His words and what came afterward kept echoing in my head on a constant loop. Simply remembering them made my heart race. 

It made my heart race even more to realize that this night wasn't even close to over. 

With a sigh, and working up the nerve, I opened my car door to go upstairs and fetch Beth. 

At least this I could explain. 

******* 

"When you boys get home, each of you has a job to do." 

Ever since we left The Creek, Jon's car had been silent. All that could be heard was the contented mews Zoey made. Sitting in the front seat, squirming and moaning proudly to herself, Zoey's eyes were happily lidded, halfway falling asleep in bliss. 

To Zoey, cum must've had the effect of warm milk. 

"What's that, babe?" Jon asked, his hand caressing Zoey's thigh as he drove. 

She looked down at Jon's hand on her thigh, and calmly brushed it off of her. I was sitting in the back seat, thanking my lucky stars that she wasn't sitting next to me as she led me even further down the rabbit hole of sexual madness. 

Then she smiled a devious, arousing grin at me. Fuck, she was still in charge. 

Dammit. 

"Tonight," she began, brimming with confidence and absolute authority, "you will fantasize about me," Zoey decreed, making eye contact back at me. "Both of you. You will pretend you're fucking me." 

Excuse me? 

"But," She interrupted herself, "you will fantasize about a threesome. And it will be a threesome with the three of us." 

"What the..." Jon gasped, laughing. "You want us to what?" He was incredulous. And he stole the fucking words out of my mouth. That is, if I had words to say. Back at The Creek, a cat stole my tongue the second I came like a geyser at the sight of Zoey with my friend's cum in her mouth. 

"I'm not finished," Zoey continued. "So you get one end, your buddy gets another," she said to both of us. 

"No way," I protested, chuckling. "I'm not thinking of this douche nozzle." 

"Yeah," Jon added, turning the corner as we returned to the bookstore parking lot to take Zoey back to her car. "This numbnuts and his big floppy donkey dick is getting nowhere near my jackoff fantasies." 

"Mmmm," Zoey said, biting her lip. "Do you know what I heard just now?" 

"Uhhhh..." Jon said, confused. 

"I heard that both of you agreed you'd be thinking of me when you jerk off tonight," Zoey deduced. "At this point, we're just quibbling about details." 

Jon and I both got quiet. Zoey is pure fucking evil. 

"Thought so," she said victoriously. "Now, you'll each be thinking of tag-teaming me, shoving your huge cocks in whatever holes you like." 

We were stupidly hanging on her every word. 

"Now, while you boys let your perverted minds take you wherever they want to go, I will be fantasizing about being taken by both of you at the same time. BUT..." 

She left us hanging with a pregnant pause. Jon finally broke. 

"But what?" Jon eked out excitedly, parking his car in front of the bookstore. She had parked her car on the far end of the shopping center parking lot, but he was too far gone with bliss at this crazy conversation. 

"But," Zoey continued, "I'll get an extra warm feeling in my belly knowing that each of you are cumming, thinking about me. And, while I masturbate ..." 

While you what? 

"... I'll be losing my mind thinking of the depraved things both of you were wishing you could do to me." 

Stunned. Silence. 

I couldn't see Jon's eyes, but I was sure his got as wide as mine. I didn't even know how to react. He reached over and, again, began to stroke her thigh. Neither of us could get a word out at this unbelievable shit that was coming out of Zoey's mouth. 

"That sounds like implicit agreement," Zoey giggled, looking down at Jon's hand caressing her. 

She smiled at him with a glint of evil in her eye. Calm but defiant, Zoey made a show of removing his hand from her lap. 

"And, my dear Jonny Magnum," Zoey began, "From now on, I want you to only think about what it's like to touch me. To pretend. Because, I don't allow just anybody to feel me up." Zoey reached out to him and ran a finger from his shoulder down his arm. "And, Mr. Magnum, one little tasty cumshot doesn't entitle you that." 

My jaw practically hit the floor. That was harsh! I couldn't believe what I was seeing and hearing. 

"I'm sorry," Jon said. "You're right." 

This is beyond fucked up. Zoey's proclamation that she was suddenly off limits to Jon, that he couldn't touch her, was a smack in the face to him, obviously. But she said it in a way that made you feel honored to even hear it. Her voice was so high and soothing, it was as if she was merely stating facts, not shooting a guy down. The fact that she followed it up by lightly touching his arm made it seem like, somehow, he just won. 

Calmly, as Jon parked his car, she opened her passenger side door and slunk out. "Good night, boys!" she teased, heading to the far end of the parking lot to her car. 

And just like that, she was gone. And this ridiculous night was over. 

Still sitting in the back seat, I looked at the back of Jon's head, and he began to turn back to look at me. 

"Seriously, what in the fuck just happened?!" Jon exclaimed at me, a huge smile on his face. 

I began to smile back, but whatever did happen was majorly fucked up. Bros before hos, right? 

"Fuck me," I said under my breath, shaking my head. "That girl's trouble. She is so much fucking trouble. Dude, seriously, we should both make a pact to stay the fuck away from her." 

Jon just looked at me, as if he was heeding my advice. If she was going to pull this shit on him the way she'd been pulling shit on me for the last week, he needed to be warned. Because, fuck, I jacked off for her while she blew my friend mere feet away from me. And I was powerless to stop it. How in the fuck do I explain this to my girlfriend?? 

Simply put, Zoey is a damn evil temptress. 

Then, that proud smile of his had worn away. Instead, it was replaced by steadily building rage. He started to get a bit of crazy eyes, eyes I haven't seen since senior year when three jocks threw him in the deep end of the school swimming pool 

"You mother fucker," Jon seethed at me, almost beginning to froth at the mouth. 

"What?" I asked, confused. 

But Jon was almost beginning to hyperventilate. "You fucking cock blocked me all night long! First, when we met her here. Then, that shit in the back seat, whatever that was. This whole time, you thought she was going to suck your dick!"  

My eyes popped wide open as I began reflexively shaking my head. What the hell is he talking about? 

"You're just pissed off that she sucked my dick instead, and you're trying to throw me off the scent, you fucking piece of shit!" 

"No, I didn't... What the hell are you ..." was all I could stammer out. I had never seen him look at me like that. 

"You're dead, motherfucker!" he shouted at me as he opened up his door and quickly got out, ripping open the back door almost in one fluid motion. "You're fucking dead!" he screamed, leaning his body into the back seat to grab at my legs and drag me out. 

POP! POP! 

As Jon came back to get me, I jumped back to the passenger side back door as I heard what sounded like firecrackers going off. The Fourth of July was just a few weeks back, and I thought this was a hell of a time for kids to start fucking with firecrackers. 

POP! 

"What the fuck!?" Jon yelled while he jumped, looking around frantically, not even looking at me. He just slammed the door behind him and crashed his body into mine, but instead of attacking me, he just looked out his back window. 

I was shaking, as I was ready to defend myself from this fucker. Then, he's suddenly looking out of the car like he saw a ghost. He just looked at me, turning his head slowly, his face clammy and white. 

"I think I just heard a fucking gun!" Jon shakily said. 

******** 

Immediately, he and I changed positions. He was huddling as far underneath the seat as he could go while I looked up, trying to see what the fuck was going on outside. 

The shopping center parking lot in front of the bookstore was pretty much abandoned. Every store was closed, including the bookstore. All the lights of every business were off, well past 10 p.m. on a Tuesday night. 

HONK! HONK! 

I turned my head toward the sound of a continually honking horn in the distance. I saw a car with its lights blinking like a car alarm had been tripped. The car was blinking and flashing and going crazy, its car honking over and over. 

Then my eyes adjusted to see a guy running like hell from the car, looking back while he sprinted as fast as he could. 

I looked back at the honking car and saw a body emerge from behind it. I saw a fist go into the air, and a woman with long hair screaming at the top of her lungs, jumping up and down. 

Zoey. 

"What the fuck is going on out there?" Jon asked from the floor, obvious fear in his voice. 

I pieced it all together in my brain. Just what the fuck am I seeing? 

A guy running for his life. A car acting like it had tripped its alarm. Zoey screaming, her hand in the air, holding something. 

Shit, is that a gun?! 

"Fight or flight" is a tricky response. It's an instinct, and by definition, doesn't incorporate much thought. You don't know how you're going to react until the choice is truly presented to you, and everybody is different. Do you run away as fast as you can? Or put your head down, full of steam, without much of a plan, to fight? 

I knew my answer when I suddenly raced through the parking lot, running toward the guy who was fleeing from Zoey. 

My senses were on high alert, my hearing supersonic, focusing on the sounds as I barely felt a chill from the air. 

"Rape!" I heard her scream faintly but powerfully from a distance. "Rape!" 

Hearing those words made me lower my head further, timing my run, like I was trying to cut off a touchdown run. 

3 ... 2 ... 1... 

I flew through the air, barely able to see, as I tackled the guy at full stride, knocking him and myself to the concrete, barely feeling my elbows crunching against the ground as I brought this little fucking rapist down. 

He was a scrawny guy, honestly. Little Mexican dude, about 5-foot-7. I could barely focus. Visually, I could make out no details. 

But I heard his breath. It was loud, heavy and quick. I heard a periodic faint whimper as I brought his body under control. When my vision finally focused, I remember his eyes. Green, tear-filled eyes that jumped off of his light brown face. They looked up at me at mercy. 

He was scared. 

Fuck him, serves him right! Just because he got caught! 

I got in a fight once. It was in the 4th grade. It was a cartoonish bully thing you saw in old TV shows. He picked on me daily. Pushed me around. His habit was to sock me in the back during gym class while we ran laps, then he'd laugh about it and tell me if I told on him, the next day, he'd draw blood. It was a hollow threat, but I was nine years old, and I believed it. And remarkably, though it happened almost every day, the gym teacher never fucking saw it. 

I had to take matters into my own hands. I asked my dad for advice, and God rest his soul, he told me in a drunken stupor, "Punch the little fucker in his mouth and see if he keeps laughing." 

So one day, I did. Over and over. In front of everybody. I let my young rage take over. I ended up giving him a black eye and a fat lip. 

The rest of the school year, he literally brought me a bag of chips out of his lunch every day. I never even had to ask. He just handed them over and smiled at me. After two weeks, I told him to quit kissing ass and never speak to me again. So he didn't, and the next year, he changed schools. 

It was the stereotypical tale of punching the bully in the mouth. 

Somehow, that scene kept me from getting blatantly fucked with for the rest of my school years. At least by other guys, anyway. Somehow, girls were always mean to me, but that's a tale for another time. 

But with that little 4th grade dust up as my frame of reference, I didn't know what I was doing. I didn't know how to throw a punch or how to put my weight behind my swings and hooks. 

But like I did in the 4th grade, I just punched. Over and over. 

Eventually, I finally missed his face, now bloodied, and hit the bottom of his jaw with my knuckles. 

And it fucking hurt. 

As I grabbed my hand in pain, the dude weaseled away from me, got back on his feet and sprinted out of sight. 

I would have run after him, but Zoey suddenly ran into the back of me, grabbing my shoulders and squeezing her big tits against my back as she held up her hand, yelling. 

"That's right, motherfucker! Run! You're lucky he didn't fucking kill you!" 

Shaking with adrenaline, my vision still crooked, I began to turn my body around to look at her, I immediately brought my non-punching hand up to her face, stroking it, cherishing the sense of touch as my brain tried to regulate itself. 

"Are you okay?" I asked softly, my voice shaky. 

She suddenly jumped into my arms, wrapping her legs around my torso and her arms around my neck, kissing me passionately. But "passion" isn't even a strong enough word for it. 

Her lips sloshed over mine, often missing the mark, wetting my lips, tongue, nose and chin. She moaned into my lips every time she closed her mouth and went back in to continue, and I quickly felt the cool air bouncing on my moistened face. 

And you bet I returned the kiss. The adrenaline of the moment, the absolute raw fucking humanity of this, both of us bubbling over with fear, created a slow boil in my spine that seemed to travel up and down repeatedly, creating chills that just never went away. Almost like a mild orgasm that just hummed through every last cell in my body. 

We heard a loud squeak and a revving motor. 

It was Jon, peeling out, his high RPMs communicating his emotions. 

It was obvious. He saw us kiss, got pissed, and sped the fuck out of there. 

I was stranded. And Zoey just kept on kissing me with every last bit of her soul. 

******** 

"... And then she took me back to my car and asked me to come get you. Just in case." 

Beth was laying on the couch, watching TV, a small mountain of tissues stacked on the coffee table in front of her. 

She was feeling a bit better, now finally able to sit up periodically on the couch to watch TV instead of lying constantly on her bed. 

She nodded, also shocked by the recounting of the story, but communicating it with docile head bobs. 

"You saved her? You?" she said in a way that made it sound like she didn't believe it. Or the role I played. 

"Yes, Beth. Me. Unfortunately, he got away." 

With her red nose glowing, she looked up at me and gave what looked like a forced grin. "Well," Beth began, "I'm sure she appreciated it." 

I thought back to that kiss. That amazingly mind-erasing kiss. That kiss I didn't tell Beth about. 

Yes, Zoey sure as hell appreciated it. 

"If you're feeling up to it, I'd like you to come with me to the police station," I told her. "She'd really like you there. She said she doesn't have any friends or family to call on." 

******** 

After we left the bookstore parking lot and the passion of our kiss calmed down, Zoey told me a bit of her story. 

She had moved from the West coast, leaving behind her family and two brothers, deciding to transfer schools after a year in community college. She decided on my school, mostly, because it was so far away from home and tuition was low, with it being a state school. It was all by design. 

She also told me she was just 18. She got emancipated at 17, dropped out of high school and got her GED, immediately enrolling in community college and moving into a small apartment with her boyfriend at the time. The fact that she had just turned 18, only a few weeks before I met her, really shocked and surprised me. 

She confessed that she'd only been here for a little over two months and didn't have any actual friends yet. Just "acquaintances" as she called them, even using little quote-marks in the air for effect, that visited the bookstore from time to time. Like Jon. 

It made me wonder if she blew her other acquaintances, too. 

She told me she'd been raped twice. Both back home. Once in high school and once in community college. The community college rape is part of what made her want to flee. 

I didn't give away a lot of details, but I recommended she talk to Beth about her rape experience. I simply told her that Beth would be a great friend to share her story with, and left it at that. 

Zoey gave a genuine, thankful grin when I told her about Beth. I think that helped her decide to ask me to get her. She really needed some sisterly support. 

We also hatched a back story. 

It was simple, really. 

I was studying late at the University, and around 10 o'clock, I pulled into the bookstore parking lot to look for Beth. But she wasn't there, and Zoey was. Zoey asked me to get her a burger to eat as well as get Beth some sickness supplies, like cough drops and NyQuil. When I came back to meet Zoey after she had gotten off work, I saw the whole grisly scene. 

Luckily, I remembered to get the NyQuil and cough drops on my way to Beth's, so as to further sell our version of the story. 

No matter what little white lies I told, the truth was somebody tried to attack Zoey in that parking lot. And she needed help to find the fucker who did it. 

******* 

As I finished my plea for her to come with, Beth sighed and got up from the couch. 

"Okay," she said, wiping her nose with the arm of her long-sleeved pajamas. "Just let me get dressed." 

As she walked away to her bedroom, I tried to read Beth. Was she upset? Sad? Betrayed? Jealous? I just couldn't figure out this flat response to our crazy evening. It was almost as if she knew Zoey and I did something tonight. She seemed to be just seconds away from tearing my head off, crying, or some other outburst. 

Or maybe it was all in my head. Who knows? 

As I did with most things involving Beth, all I could do was shrug. I sat on her blankets lining the couch and picked up that Yeats book, thumbing through to the next Crazy Jane poem I hadn't yet read, focusing on the end of "Crazy Jane on the Mountain." 

There in a two-horsed carriage 

That on two wheels ran 

Great-bladdered Emer sat. 

Her violent man 

Cuchulain sat at her side; 

Thereupon' 

Propped upon my two knees, 

I kissed a stone 

I lay stretched out in the dirt 

And I cried tears down. 

******* 

"... So I knocked the gun out of his hand and he began to run away." 

Zoey and I talked about our story as far as what to say to Beth, and that's about all we got in during our short car ride before she dropped me off at my car and headed to the police station to file a report. Hearing the version of the story Zoey told to the police officer was different than what I remembered. 




Resurrection of Crazy Jane Pt. 04



"After he threatened and attacked you ... you ... got the gun away from him?" the officer asked, concerned. "That's pretty dangerous. You could have gotten shot." 

"I just didn't think about it," Zoey said nonchalantly before continuing. "He ran away but luckily my friend stopped him. But he eventually got away from him, too." 

The officer looked at me, ready for my end of the story. Zoey looked at me with eyes wide, like she was trying to tell me something. Her blue irises big, shiny, and ultimately, weakening my resolve. 

Stick to the story. 

I felt somewhat angry. In our car ride, we spent a long time coming up with the story to tell Beth, how not to mention the fact that anything at The Creek even occurred, but no such conversation about what to tell the cops. 

Even reporting it was her idea. Fuck! 

We were sitting at an L-shaped desk, with Zoey on one end, me next to her and Beth next to me. Beth seemed to be zoning out, like she didn't even want to be there. 

The officer was sitting on the other side of the desk, writing in a small notebook, looking across at us. 

"Sir, what did you see?" he asked me. 

I tried to swallow my tongue and tell the officer the version of the story Zoey obviously wanted to get out there. I didn't see the big deal. I had no idea what she wanted to hide. 

Then I felt her hand graze my thigh before her fingers made their way under the desk to my soft cock, hanging down into my left pant leg. She just held her hand there, fingers stroking the head, and immediately it began to plump. 

Really, Zoey? Now?! 

"Uh ... I, uh ... I pulled up in my car after running an errand for her. And, um, my girlfriend here ... Beth ..." 

Zoey's hand remained in place, not moving. I was still hardening, though. 

"... What errand were you running?" the officer asked. 

She squeezed my cock at that question. 

Stick to the story. 

"I ... I ... uh, went to get her a burger. Zoey. She, uh, wanted one for after she got off work." 

I looked at the officer's eyes, and they went down to his notebook. I felt Zoey's hands pat my semi-hard cock. 

Good boy. 

I still wondered what she wanted me to say and what she didn't. What could possibly get her in trouble? I immediately thought of the most chilling moment. The gunshots. 

I just heard them. I didn't see them. But I thought back to what she had told him, and she mentioned nothing of shots going off. Not one thing. 

She also mentioned nothing of my fight with him. Nothing about punches thrown. Just something about me stopping him. Whatever that means. 

I began to feel agitated at being expected to read her mind. I had no idea what the hell to say or what information to divulge. 

To break up the silence, I continued. I had to. 

"So, I pull up, and see, uh, her car lights blinking." Zoey continued to hold her hand motionless. That's a good sign, right? "And I see a gun in her hand ..." 

She squeezed my cock. Hard. I felt fingernails dig in through the material of my pants. To hide my pain, I made a fake cough noise until her nails loosened up. 

"... She was, uh, must have just gotten the gun away from him. Because, you know, he was running." She was patting my cock again, her fingers lightly stroking the area where her nails invaded. The calming touch made my dick surge, and I felt my cock head unstick itself from its previous sweaty location as my semi-hard dick grew like two more inches instantly, closer to its full length. God this girl knows how to touch me... 

The officer was still writing, listening to me. "... So," I continued, "I just ran out of my car after the guy and tackled him, and ..." 

I felt her fingers dig in again, this time not as deep since my cock was so rigid. Weirdly, the pain was somehow a little more pleasurable now. But she didn't want me to say something. 

"... eee, uh ... I tried to, um, hold him down, but he ended up getting away. I didn't, uh, see where he went." 

"I thought you fought him," Beth suddenly said from behind me. All three of us turned our heads over to her. Reflexively, Zoey squeezed my cock as hard as my stiffness would allow. I felt my cock head throb at this. 

I froze. 

What do I do what do I do what do I do what do I ... 

"A-ha ... uh, I didn't fight him," I continued, trying to be cool. You know, as cool as I could be with a cop looking in my eyes, my girlfriend questioning me in front of said cop and another girl, who was essentially giving me a hand job as said girlfriend was inches away from me. "... I just wrestled with him a bit, trying to restrain him. But like she said, he got away." 

"He still saved me from anything worse happening," Zoey said, smiling longingly at me with her hand still on my now rock-hard cock. "This boy is my hero!" Zoey beamed while discreetly picking up her speed, rubbing the sweet spot of my cock like she was unapologetically trying to make me cum. 

Then I felt a hand grab mine. Beth's hand. And I tensed up. I felt my cock flex and push Zoey's hand away, causing her to let out a muted giggle. I looked quickly to Beth, who gave a proud smile to me after threading her fingers with mine while grasping my hand. I forced a quick smile at her before looking back at the cop wide-eyed. 

What in the fuck is going on here? 

"You didn't see the gun going off?" he asked me. 

"No sir." 

"Did you see what direction he took off to?" 

Zoey picked up her speed to an even higher gear, and felt my dick continue to plump even bigger. I could tell I was getting close. Shit shit shit shit shit... 

"The, uh, ummmm ... other side of ... the, um ... bookstore. So, I ... uh, guess, the North side of the building?" 

"Did you get a description of him?" the officer asked me as Zoey simply didn't stop. And Beth was still holding my hand. And this fucking cop just kept looking at me. Quit fucking asking me questions already! 

"I, uh, didn't see him, really. Mexican? Short? Pretty thin?" I felt my cock start to hop, the cum beginning it's final ascent upward. Fuck, I know what that means. God fucking dammit, not now! "To be honest, sir," I continued, "I ... uh ... um ... didn't see that closely. I just heard stuff more than I saw. I know that's weird." 

"It's not weird, son," the officer responded, entering a long winded explanation while Zoey just kept pumping her hand up and down my cock. "It's called Tachypsychia," he said. "When you feel you're in a life or death situation, you sometimes lose one sense while time slows down and you feel another sense get very sensitive..." 

Zoey tightened her grip, grasping my shaft with four of her fingers while rubbing her thumb over the big head. My body was vibrating almost as I just wished for my orgasm to mercifully arrive. 

"... You usually lose your hearing or sense of touch in times like that while seeing very clearly, but you had the opposite happen. It's quite normal..." the officer continued as I felt my cock lengthen and harden as my explosion was imminent. 

"... I've experienced it before," the officer said. 

"AHH ... ah, uh... wow," I gasped out as Zoey finally made me cum a gallon down the tented leg of my pants, using short, powerful strokes. 

While Beth held my hand. 

While the officer looked at me intently. 

I tensed up every muscle in my body to keep from jerking through my unwanted and untimely orgasm. I felt my eyes twitch and I tried to lift my arms, "Wow, that's interesting, uh... um... officer. I ... uh ... whew ... it's weird that we work ... like that... wah ..." 

"What you did, son, was quite heroic," the officer said. 

I looked at Zoey, and she was just grinning at me adoringly. 

I looked at Beth, and she was just grinning at me adoringly. 

I looked at the officer, and even he was grinning at me adoringly. 

I felt my hot cum begin to run down the side of my thigh after soaking me. What the fuck? Is this seriously happening? 

"You showed a lot of bravery," the officer told me, beaming. "And so did you, ma'am. I just wish we could have stopped him, but that's for us to figure out." He looked at Zoey and focused on her. She removed her hand from my cock and nonchalantly grabbed a tissue off of his desk. I could see her thumb somewhat shine. I think my cum soaked through the denim and got on her. Fuck fuck fuck ... 

"Ma'am, do you remember what he looked like?" 

Zoey wiped her hand on a tissue and began to blow her nose. I jerked out of the chair immediately, angling my crotch away from everybody. "Bathroom. Be back." I grunted as she began to speak. 

"He was 5-foot-8, brown hair," she began, "Hispanic, light green eyes. Kind of pretty in fact. Crooked smile, feathered hair, a little mole above his lip on the right side, and small ears. Medium build, skinny..." 

She was being super accurate and detailed. Good for her. I'm glad she remembered so much in that stressful situation. I fell out of earshot as I turned the corner for the bathroom, looked down, and saw a fucking puddle the size of a DVD above my knee. Fucking hell, Zoey! 

******* 

We had filed the police report and were driving home. Zoey was in her car and I was in mine, Beth holding my hand tightly as I drove. I still felt the moist puddle on my pant leg, and that bleachy scent of cum had finally begun to wear away. I thanked my lucky stars that that scent wasn't familiar to Beth. At least I hope it wasn't familiar. 

"I'm proud of you," Beth said, squeezing my hand as I drove. "I didn't think you'd be the type to interrupt a rape like that, but you did." She smiled at me, but I thought about her words. It was definitely a weird choice of words. But I didn't overthink it and just kept driving, smiling back at her. 

******* 

We got to their apartment, and I was trying to walk crooked and avoid putting on bright lights so my cum puddle wouldn't be seen. 

As soon as we walked in, Zoey announced, "It's been a crazy night. I'm just going to go to bed." 

I was taking ginger steps, but she flew around, stopped me in my tracks, put her arms around me and gave me a kiss. On the lips. Right in front of my girlfriend. 

The kiss was half chaste, but half tender, and she lingered for a couple seconds. As she kissed me, she blatantly dug her right hip into my cum-soaked left thigh, like she was trying to wipe it off of me. The shock of the kiss and the grind into my crotch kept my eyes open, and I looked straight at Beth, whose mouth was slacked wide open, staring at our lips. 

When Zoey let go, she immediately looked at Beth apologetically. "I'm sorry I just kissed your boyfriend, but I had to thank him and I really didn't know how. I'm a little spooked still, to be honest." Zoey kind of lowered her head in Beth's direction. 

Beth wanted to be upset, but she couldn't be mad at a girl who had nearly been raped, and was merely thanking her hero. For whatever heroic thing he might have done outside of pummeling some guy. 

"It's okay," Beth said with a forced but cheerful smile. "He deserved it, I guess. Just, next time, maybe a thank you card will suffice?" 

Zoey laughed wildly at that. "OK, deal. But hopefully there isn't a next time, hm?" She winked at me. A mysterious, ill-timed wink. 

Zoey turned around and made her way down the hall to her bedroom. Beth followed before ducking into the bathroom to blow her nose. When she did, Zoey turned around, eyes wild, and ran her finger down to her hip where she ground into me, then brought it up to her mouth and tasted, her eyes closing in what could only be described as ecstasy. 

Did she just taste my cum? Was there even enough left for her to taste? 

Either way, she smiled widely, her eyes lidded. 

"Fuuucckkkk, yummmmm," she whispered barely audible, biting her lip before turning around again. She peeked out at me one more time before opening her door, making alluring sensual eye contact as a strand of hair hung unhinged over her eye, before entering her room. 

My mouth suddenly went bone dry. 

As if on cue, Beth came out of the bathroom, sniffling. She came up to me and gave me a kiss on the cheek. 

"Sorry, I feel mostly better, but my stupid nose keeps running," she explained. She then looked up at me tentatively. "So, um, are you going to stay the night?" 

I smiled at her warmly and nodded my head. 

******* 

I made sure to sneak into the bathroom and put on a spare pair of underwear before crawling into bed with Beth. 

I couldn't help it. Even after blowing two huge loads because of Zoey's teasing tonight, I was starting to stir a third time. Even though she was sick, I pondered fucking Beth, just to get some actual release. 

I crawled into bed with her, and I felt my inflated cock head graze against Beth's belly as I climbed over her. 

Always a good sign. 

I immediately wrapped my arm around her and spooned her from behind. There was no hiding my hard-on, which was tenting up to my waistband at my hip as I instinctively humped into her. 

"Thank you for staying," she said as she grabbed my hand and brought it to her chest, up against her gigantic breasts. "I've really missed you. And I swear I'm not contagious anymore. I won't get you sick." 

I humped into her again and ran my finger along one of her huge protruding nipples, pushing out the fabric of her purple nightshirt. I felt a surge run down the shaft of my cock and to the rest of my body, and I nearly moaned. I was finally letting myself feel the sexually charged craziness of the night, and since I was here with my girlfriend, I could finally let myself enjoy it. 

I thought long and hard before saying what I wanted to say - a clever line that popped into my head in response to her comment about being sick. But I humped into her again, my rock-hard cock lodging itself against her nightshirt-covered ass cheeks, and I felt no fear. 

"You won't get me sick?" I asked her flirtatiously. "I hope the flu isn't a sexually transmitted disease." Then I grabbed a handful of tit, feeling her huge nipple poking into my palm, as I lowered my head and kissed her on the side of her neck, drawing out a little nibble. 

Her back arched and she pushed her ass into my hard cock. 

Oh my God, it's happening. 

Still overflowing with passion from this entire night, my third big erection in the past four hours began to throb as I flipped her on her back and began to hover over her. I looked into her eyes and just kissed Beth passionately. It was sloppy, wet, and not at all pretty, but it was passionate. It was not unlike the kiss Zoey gave me in the parking lot after I stopped her attacker. 

Thinking of that kiss made my mind run to Zoey. And I saw everything from the night in a flash. Taking off her top at The Creek. The moonlight-kissed reflection on her wet cleavage. Her mouth full of Jon's cock. And that look of sheer wild animal lust when she saw me cum, getting her own cum just from the mere sight. 

I ripped Beth's nightshirt off in one move, and since my mind was on Zoey, I was surprised to see Beth's much larger tits on her much larger body, softly jiggling as I exposed her to the air, her huge meaty nipples hardening up to a point. 

I panted as I dug my mouth onto her breasts, sucking as much of her nipple into my mouth as I could, working my steel bar of a cock out through any opening I could find in my boxers. Too hard and big to work my way through the opening in the front, I decided on lifting one leg of my boxers over my curved hard cock and exposing it. 

"Oh fuck..." I moaned, my mouth still full of tit as I began to line up my cock to Beth's pussy. I let my finger stroke over her opening and it wasn't very wet, but Beth was the kind of girl that didn't lube up much until I got inside. 

As soon as my cock head began to split her pussy lips apart, I started to push in and she growled in a high-pitched voice, "It hurts... Please ..." 

I tried to be gentle but with her slight wetness, it really couldn't be helped. I ran my finger over the pre-cum dribbling out of my cock and rubbed it over my shaft in one swipe as I re-positioned and began to push in. 

"Auughhh!" she wailed as my wide cock head split her open. "It hurts ..." 

I couldn't wait for any more protestations. I was too far gone. With enough lubrication to get going, I pushed in about five inches against the dry but wonderful pull of her pussy lips, which produced a huge moan on my part. I thrust back and this time, with less resistance, pushed all the way to the hilt as my pelvic bone met hers. She squeezed her eyes shut. 

After 5 or 6 thrusts, she began to loosen up and I starting pumping fast, totally gone. Beth was quiet, her eyes closed, her mouth wide open, grimacing every so often as her tits jiggled like a sack of Jello. The harder the thrust, the more her huge tits threatened to smack her in the chin, so I tried to get more power behind each thrust. It made the bed start to slam against the wall, and I loved the feeling of showing so much raw power. 

I was in disbelief that Beth was letting me go at her this hard. It was more proof, I hoped, that she was warming up to a sexual relationship. 

I picked my head up to look at her, her eyes still closed, when I thought I saw motion near the nightlight plugged in by her bedroom door. 

I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me, maybe seeing the light flicker, but I definitely saw the door open. 

Clearly, I saw an eye peek in at us. I knew it was Zoey, and in my state of bliss, I didn't care. It just turned me the fuck on. 

Seeing my thrusts accelerate even more at making eye contact with her, she pushed the door open fully. She was wearing white baby doll lingerie, her hair pulled to each side in pigtails, and her glasses on, flickering with the glow of the nightlight as she quietly moved into the room. The light bounced off her chest and her magnificent full tits glowed in the dim light, the fabric of her lingerie draping downward just slightly past her crotch, her toned legs fully in view. Quietly, she smiled, putting her index finger to her lips to mouth a seductive "shhh". 

My mouth was wide open at the sight. I looked down at Beth and her eyes were still squinted closed as I continued to fuck her brains out. She was clenching her eyes so tight, it was like she was trying to keep her brains from escaping from her eyeballs. 

I looked back up at Zoey and she was smiling, biting her lip, as she daringly pulled up her lingerie, flashing me a bare and shaved pussy. I couldn't help but moan loudly at the sight, then glancing back to Beth to see if her eyes were still closed. 

They were. 

Zoey brazenly showed me two fingers and made a show of plunging them into her pussy, making an open-mouth quiet moan as she pushed her fingers in, all the way to her second knuckle. I began to flex my cock with each thrust as I saw that, trying to feel as much of Beth as I could as I fixed my eyes on her naughty roommate. 

She began fingering herself with more speed, her eyes shut, before removing them and bringing them up to her lips, giving herself a taste. Her eyes oozed lust, lidded behind her glasses as her gorgeous pink lips wrapped around her fingers. 

I felt the cum begin to slowly rise up my cock, knowing I was about to blow, as my head just swam into an impending orgasm, my hips bucking more and more as Beth kept her eyes completely shut. 

Seeing my exaggerated movements, Zoey bit her lip and trailed her hands down to the bottom of her lingerie, then lifting it up with both hands. First, it exposed her stomach, showing the outline of her abs before it got caught up under her breasts. The underwire of the baby doll lingerie was tight under her heavy boobs, and she lifted her hands to the cups, pulling them up. 




Resurrection of Crazy Jane Pt. 04



Almost like it was slow motion, her full tits, way too big for her petite frame, spilled out, capped with large, bright pink and puffy areolas on ridiculously round and firm tits. They somehow looked bigger out of a bra than in it, their size dwarfing her slim waist. 

The mere sight, combined with another slow bite of her lip, sent me to space as I came like a freight train into Beth's pussy, the speed of my discharge causing her to wince as I plunged as deep into her as I could. My moaning was load, broken and completely unapologetic as I craned my head to the sky, closed my eyes, and rode out my orgasm. 

I finally opened my eyes to look to the door, and Zoey was gone, having snuck the door shut behind her. I looked down at Beth and her eyes were still closed, but cautiously, she opened them and looked at me. I smiled wide and triumphant for a moment before the postorgasmic morality hit. 

Shit, Zoey made my mind stray from my girlfriend ... again! 

****** 

I awoke in darkness, lying in Beth's bed. There wasn't a single cover on me. In fact, all the covers were gone. 

And so was Beth. 

I glanced at the red glowing digits on the alarm clock: 3:23 a.m. 

I was kind of frantic, looking around as my bearings came back. It was just me with a pillow, with nothing or nobody else on the bed. 

In a flush, the crazy scene just before bed came back to me. 

I made love with Beth, but let's be honest. I fucked Zoey. Maybe not physically, but that's pretty much what happened. I was still in disbelief that Zoey had watched me have the best sex of my life - and that she was a big reason why. 

My "best sex" sensation was almost completely drowned out by my guilt. One more fucking time, I hurt Beth. Immensely. 

And she must have felt it. She must have known. 

Because she isn't here right now. 

I was still completely naked, so I slipped on my underwear and began to walk out of Beth's room. Across the hall, I saw the door to Zoey's room, and mercifully, it was shut. Dealing with Zoey was the last fucking thing I needed right now. 

I looked down the hallway and saw the faint glow of the television in the living room. I knew Beth was out there and I was simply scared to death to face her. I knew she noticed Zoey earlier and simply left the room to deal with her feelings of betrayal. It's the only explanation that made sense. 

As I got closer, I heard sniffling. I nearly turned back. I didn't want to deal with her crying. I couldn't face it if I gave her that much pain. I would never forgive myself for being so fucking evil to her that I made her cry and hurt and... Gah! Fuck fuck fuck fuck... 

I kept going and she sensed me right away. She just made eye contact with me and began crying uncontrollably. 

She was absolutely wailing, coughing as the tears gushed. 

I was frozen. I just stayed standing, looking down at her sitting on the couch as she lost her shit because I betrayed her. 

Then suddenly, she slapped herself on the cheek. Hard. 

Then again. 

And again. 

The loud slaps just sucked the air out of my lungs and I stood there, breathless and shocked. 

"I'm not a little girl anymore!" Beth shouted more to herself than anything, her cheeks reddened, still stifled by an uncontrollable stream of tears. "You need to leave me alone! You need to let me live my life!" 

I didn't know what I was looking at. I immediately thought she was yelling at me, but she wasn't looking anywhere near me. It didn't make sense. 

I was just monumentally confused. 

She clutched a pillow and brought it to her chest and began rocking, frantic. "I can't be happy. I can't be happy," she said in a panicked refrain, over and over. "Why won't you let me be happy!?" 

I felt I had to say something. This was still all my fault and I had to fix this. Fix her. 

"It's going to be okay," I assured her, moving to sit down next to her, even though I was scared to death and riddled with guilt. I slowly put my arm around her, and as soon as I touched her, she jumped to her feet like I had stuck her with a hot poker. 

She then looked at me with absolute exasperated rage and threw a pillow straight at my face, knocking me backward. 

"FUCK YOU!" she screamed to the sky at the top of her lungs before bawling again. She settled down a bit after a few seconds and began to ramble, hyperventilating. 

"It wasn't enough. That I was your little girl. No! You had to ruin me. And break me. And make me evil. Nobody would want me. That's the way you wanted it? Didn't you?! DIDN'T YOU? Now, somebody wants me. And you ruin it!? You fricken' ruin it!? Leave me alone! LEAVE ME ALONE!" 

I didn't know what to do. I was just anxious and confused and just lost. It was clear, at least, that at least somewhat, she was talking about her father. Her father that raped her. She was blaming him for what I did? That made me feel even more guilty. 

I had to fix it. 

"Beth, Beth," I said assuringly from across the room as she started pacing back and forth, her hands on her head. "Come back to me Beth, okay? We'll get through this together, okay? It's not your fault. It's never been your fault. Just come back to me. Okay?" 

Beth finally looked at me, crying still, but slowing down. Her hyperventilating had begun to clear up as her panic attack was finally subsiding. 

"Why?" she asked me, desperate. "Why?!" 

I felt terrible. She didn't deserve what I did to her and the panic attack that followed. Why she blamed her father was beyond me, but maybe that's how she had to deal. 

"Listen, I never meant..." I began to say when she interrupted me. 

"Why does he keep making me have dreams that you're raping me???" 

... To be continued



Resurrection of Crazy Jane Pt. 05



Before reading Part V of "The Resurrection of Crazy Jane," if you haven't yet, read it from Part 1 first. These installments do not stand on their own and don't make any attempt to. 

Please note that any viewpoints expressed by the characters in this story do not necessarily reflect my own viewpoints. I am simply attempting to stay true to the characters. 

***** 

I made eye contact with Zoey. 

It was remarkable that I'd only known this girl for about two weeks, and we were still able to communicate with just eye contact. It was the strangest damn thing. 

But the eye contact we had at this moment was perhaps the most important nonverbal conversation we've had through our short friendship - or tease-ship or whatever the hell you would call this. 

Beth had finally let her guard down for a moment. She sat her shaken, tormented body on the couch cushion next to me, giving herself to my embrace, crying on my shoulder. 

She was choking and wetting me with snot and tears. She was just overcome by her confession that she has had recurring dreams that I was raping her. 

In thinking about it, of course, I felt undeniable guilt. The way I plowed into Beth the previous night with unmitigated power, helped along by Zoey's innocent striptease just feet away from Beth's head, probably was a bit too dominant for Beth's taste. 

The fact that I just plunged in, no condom at all, and blew what felt like gallons of spunk into her without abandon, probably didn't help matters, either. 

Sex with Beth had to be just one step past virginal. It had to be a Puritanical courtship. 

And that's all it could ever be. 

And of course, when I was lost in this train of thought, my girlfriend falling to pieces before my very eyes, was the moment that Zoey decides to wake up and investigate, looking directly into my eyes. 

She peeked her head around the corner into the living room just as Beth leaned her sobbing head into me. 

In the TV-lit darkness of the living room, Zoey's blue eyes sparkled a silvery-gray as they looked straight at me. 

Her look of true concern suggested that the previous night and all of the transgressions I committed with her had been forgotten. 

Instead of her default tempestuous glare, dripping with sex and bad intentions, Zoey made eye contact with me in an almost empathetic way. At least that was the way I hoped she was looking at me. 

Either way, it was a look I'd rarely seen from the girl. 

Zoey just looked scared and apprehensive, like a little girl that awoke to her parents fighting. 

She's lost it, I attempted to tell Zoey with my eyes. I'm trying to do all I can to make it better. 

As I tried to communicate this with my eyes, Zoey somehow received it. Her expression softened even more. 

Zoey's expression, God help me, somehow was the worst thing I could have seen at that moment. 

I'm not proud of it, but for the first time, I was thinking about Beth like she was broken. Irreparably. The concept that was swimming in my mind, that a simple sexual relationship was breaking her brain even further, had me doubting what I was doing with her. 

Can I even deal with this? 

Can I deal with a woman who may never want to have sex with me? 

I felt selfish for thinking it. I should be able to put a sexual relationship on the back burner. But if this is a long term deal, I can't not have sex with my girlfriend. 

And Zoey's look suggested, at least for a second, that she was more than just a wanton sex kitten. 

There was a person inside there. 

And, dang it, I might like that person. For the first time, I truly compared Zoey and Beth to each other, considering both as romantic options I had to choose between. 

And Zoey might be winning. 

And it got even worse. 

Usually, a look from Zoey stirred a reaction in my cock, pushing an on/off button that made my treacherous weiner expand at her whim. 

Now, the whole scene unfolding in the living room, just the entire gravity of this moment, that sudden pressure of asking myself to make a choice, pulled on my emotions. 

It created a lump in my throat, threatening to push tears out. I wasn't sure what in the hell that was about. It was probably everything altogether, to be honest. 

There was Beth's helplessness, and perhaps that this was the first suggestion that my relationship with her was starting to fade. 

And then there was the suggestion that whatever this was that I was having with Zoey was, in fact, something. 

I began to sniffle and cry myself, which caused Beth to reflexively hold me tighter. I think she found my tears quite comforting, in a strange way. 

If she only knew. 

But we, as humans, sense the presence of others. We know when people are staring at us. 

As Beth jumped and look backward, she felt that. She sensed Zoey's presence and made a whimpered gasp at seeing her. 

Immediately, Beth began to collect herself and suck back her tears, which were now slowing down to a manageable cry, just to steady herself for Zoey's benefit. 

"I'm ... sorry," Beth stifled out between cries. "I didn't ... mean to ... wake you." Beth wiped at the tears flowing on her face, which had made tear-stained streaks down her cheeks. There was no hiding her state of sadness and helplessness. 

Zoey looked at Beth with a warm smile. "Sweetie, come here," Zoey said, spreading her arms wide. After a hesitation, Beth left my embrace and went to Zoey, who hugged her tightly as Beth began to cry again. "Let it out..." Zoey warmly said, running her fingers through Beth's hair while making assuring eye contact with me over Beth's shoulder. 

I smiled a thankful grin at Zoey, and she did the same to me. It probably felt good to Beth to know that she had support. 

And, for the first time, Zoey and I didn't turn a silent conversation into some drawn out flirtation. 

******* 

I was sitting in the living room watching TV, half trying to wake up while also desperately wanting to sleep. Shortly after they began to hug and cry together, Beth had followed Zoey into Zoey's bedroom. They'd been in there for a while. 

I heard their voices and their tears. And maybe even a little laughter. All of it was muffled behind a closed door on the other side of the apartment. 

Whatever Zoey was doing, it was working. They were most likely having "the talk", where Beth spilled her guts about her abuse, about her life, about her everything. She was just so much better at this than I was. 

And I knew they were talking about me. That made me into a nervous jumble. 

Then my mind wandered more. What if I did choose Zoey? Would she even have me? 

Obviously not. Right? Whatever Zoey was doing with me, to me, this entire time, obviously had nothing to do with me. She couldn't have liked me. Like that. I mean, I'm still this ugly troll. I didn't even know why Beth liked me. So I'd have to win Zoey over. 

What was I even thinking? My girlfriend, my Beth, was falling to pieces, literally crying on her friend's shoulder. Meanwhile, I am thinking about hooking up with that very friend? I'm a sicko. A completely horrible person. 

But, I suppose, it was okay that I was thinking like this. Beth was obviously telling Zoey how much she hated me. How much I disgusted her. Obviously. She was having dreams that I was fucking raping her. That had to be rooted in pure hatred. Why else would she even be having these thoughts in the first place? She hated me. She hated sex with me. I was just that terrible at it. A selfish lover. 

And if I was a bad, selfish lover, what business did Zoey even have with me? Why was she showing me so much attention? It couldn't be that she actually wanted me. It made no sense. I was a sexual noob. There had to be another reason. Maybe she was insane. That's the only explanation. 

What the hell am I thinking? Ugh! 

I had to distract myself from the chattering monkeys in my head. But it was the middle of the night and this was mid-2000s basic cable. So I just stared at infomercials on the TV for an hour as Zoey continued to commiserate with Beth, trying to eavesdrop while also trying to ignore, since I probably wouldn't like what they were saying anyway. Luckily, their voices were too soft to hear. And I wasn't going to creep and put my ear to the door. 

I just stayed put. 

The morning kept coming closer, and before I knew it, it was 5 a.m. and my eyes simply wouldn't close. My body was pulsing with loss, emotion, and just a little bit of adrenaline. I didn't know what to think. 

I was really really nervous. 

I knew that reading would put me out. For a guy that was a literature and writing major, I really really hated reading. So I began reading some poetry, again opening Yeats, hoping that would do the trick. 

I care not what the sailors say: 

All those dreadful thunder-stones, 

All that storm that blots the day 

Can but show that Heaven yawns; 

Great Europa played the fool 

That changed a lover for a bull. 

Fol de rol, fol de rol. 

To round that shell's elaborate whorl, 

Adorning every secret track 

With the delicate mother-of-pearl, 

Made the joints of Heaven crack: 

So never hang your heart upon 

A roaring, ranting journeyman. 

Fol de rol, fol de rol. 

***** 

I awoke with a yell as a pillow bounced off my head. It zapped me awake, knocking the book of Yeats poetry off my chest and I sat straight up, ready to punch something. 

Fight or flight. 

"Shakespeare, you need to cover that fucking thing up," I heard Zoey say from the small adjacent kitchen as my vision tried to focus and recover from the shock of waking up from a pillow being thrown at my head. "That gigantic thing will force me to make bad decisions." 

I looked around to see Zoey with her back turned, doing something on the kitchen counter as she looked back at me with a mischievous grin. 

I felt a tightness in my crotch and looked down, only to see the head of my cock sticking out the bottom of my boxer shorts, hard as a rock in all of its morning wood glory, restrained by the left leg of my boxers and threatening to spring upward if my boxers rode up and hinted at the slightest promise of freedom. 

I immediately covered it up, grabbing that pillow and hiding it from Zoey's sight. 

I looked up to the wall clock, seeing that it was 10:25 a.m. I began looking back and forth frantically. I knew that Beth had an 8 a.m. class and Zoey was due into class at 10 a.m. They were definitely playing hookey. 

"Where is Beth?" I asked Zoey. 

"Church," Zoey responded nonchalantly before turning around and looking back at me with an evil grin. "She had to get the hell away from that devil in your pants." 

I held the pillow tighter against my crotch. "That's not funny," I chastised Zoey. 

She came out to the living room holding two cups of coffee, giving me one. I held on to the pillow with one hand while grabbing the coffee mug with the other, making room for Zoey to sit beside me on the couch. 

"Don't judge my breath," Zoey said. "This is my third cup this morning." 

She was wearing a big black Ramones T-shirt and a loose pair of white shorts, showing off her long, tanned legs. She had no bra on, as I saw her prominent nipples sticking out through her shirt. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail and she was absolutely casual. 

There was something almost domestic about this scene. 

As she sat, I realized where she said Beth had gone to? 

"Church?" 

I pretty much knew the method behind the madness before she even explained. 

When Beth and I got together, we discussed our views on religion. In short, we were both agnostic, mostly because we each had problems with the excesses and hypocrisy of established religion. 

That's why it was shocking when she told me about a priest. She had heard of a priest that specialized in joining multiple personalities, like Beth suffered from. 

"You mean like an exorcist?" I immediately asked Beth when she first explained this priest. 

But calmly, Beth told me what it was all about. She made it sound like he was more of a therapist than a man of God. 

Beth regularly skipped therapy appointments with her actual therapist. She was supposed to go weekly. However, ever since we had gotten together, she pretty much quit therapy altogether, even though I told her I'd be willing to go to a session with her, if she needed me to. 

"He's a specialist," she explained about the priest. "He'd merged the personalities of so many people. It's more effective than therapy. He has different techniques." 

I knew it sounded like bull. 

"He's probably just trying to get you to buy what he's selling," I opined, "just so you will join the church. Those damn people, they collect parishioners like baseball cards." I was grumbling. 

She kept talking about it, ignoring my protestations, her voice full of hope, and I just let her talk. She gave me example after example of how he'd worked miracles. Whatever. I had said my peace, knowing she'd eventually change the subject as I became less and less responsive. 

Which she did. 

But all of this "priest" talk was about a month or two prior, before we'd even had sex. It seemed like a dead topic. We hadn't spoken about it since. 

Now, all of a sudden, she went to church? On a Wednesday morning? When she hadn't set foot in a church for years? 

"Yeah," Zoey responded to my question, shaking me out of my momentary flashback. "She seems to think it will work with her, you know... issues." 

"Shit..." I groaned. 

"What's the big deal?" Zoey asked seriously. "I think it's a good idea. Church isn't all bad, you rotten sinner." 

I grumbled some more. It wasn't that I was so anti-church, per se. I mean, people get some good use out of it. But it wasn't for me. People who trust an exterior source as opposed to actually dealing with the stuff life throws at you, which divests them of all responsibility for their own lives, never set well with me. If you have a problem with your life, don't wish upon a godly star. Fix it. Like I had. 

I didn't have a girlfriend. I was a scrawny little troll. But I decided I wouldn't someday be a 40-year-old virgin. I changed things. I began working out. I started being more assertive. And now, I have a girlfriend. With maybe another on the way. But the main thing was, I changed things. 

I thought Beth was doing the same thing. She was going to change her situation. She didn't like it, so she was going to fight her demons head on. It was one of the things I loved about her. 

I thought she would go to therapy. Work through her issues and make a change. Now she wants to talk to a priest and trust some God to do all the hard work for her? 

And then, get one step closer to paying this priest's salary through tithing, so he could by a new bookshelf for his office? 

Fuck that. 

It was asinine. It was the coward's way out. 

"A priest is not as well-qualified as a therapist," I complained. "He is going to sell her snake oil. Wave a fucking magic wand. Or a magic Bible. But she won't even go to her therapy appointments? This is big shit she is working through. Why trust a priest over somebody who has a degree? Who was trained?" 

Zoey shook her head. "No. I don't believe that. Therapists are the scam. Therapists are the snake oil people." 

She adopted a look of true passion in her face. Her body straightened out. She was climbing onto her soap box, without giving me a word in edgewise. 

"I went to therapy. After I was almost raped, they suggested I see somebody. I was 16. And the shit they told me." She shook her head abruptly. "Hell no. The shrink sent me to some guy. To get me on meds. Okay, whatever. Anti-depressant meds I figured. Then you know what the fucker says to me?" 

She interrupted me before I could answer. 

"He said he wanted to put me on antipsychotic meds. Are you fucking shitting me?!" 

I looked at her confused. Floored. The doctor tried to do what? 

"Ummm, you're not psychotic," I said, a level of obviousness in my voice. "With Beth, yeah, I can see calling her 'psychotic.' But you? You're friendly and outgoing and playful." 

"Thank you!" she shouted, waving her hand at me. "I was just fucking raped, okay? I was scared, okay? If you want to throw medicine at it, an antidepressant? Sure. But crazy pills? Fuck no!" 

She was fuming, obviously re-living it. Her eyes had a look I'd never seen before. It was a look of anger. I'd never seen Zoey angry. Or even passionate in a non-sexual sense. 

"So, what happened?" I asked. 

"I quit going to the therapist. If he would send me to this asshole to get on medication, then why in the fuck should I trust him? Like I said, therapists are the scam." 

I just sat there, silent, looking at her. 

"So," I began gingerly, "if Beth wants to see a priest, you think more power to her?" 

"Yes!" she said adamantly. "Exactly! More power to her. If Jesus turned water into wine, He could make Beth like cock again. Or pussy, or whatever," she smirked. 

Damn Zoey. 

Here we were, having a serious conversation about Beth and the nature of therapy, then she has to say "cock" all deviously. And "pussy". She's right. Those hard k's. There's something sexy about them. Thinking of that, and looking at her being all cute in those boy shorts and punk rock T-shirt, her nipples sticking out like turkey thermometers, got my cock stirring again. It had been covered the pillow this whole time, but I felt my cock head rubbing against the soft pillow. It was creeping out of my boxers, stiffening once more. I could feel it. 

But back to the main idea at hand. 

Church? Really? I didn't want to be swept up in it. Mostly, I didn't want to be pressured into believing. The whole origin story of life, Adam and Eve and the snake and that whole leap of faith thing was simply something I couldn't do. Beth was so pushy in general, I didn't want to deal with it. She would become preachy. 

"Dammit," I groaned. 

I shook my head and swung my head back in exasperation, resting my hands on my head as it flopped on the back of the couch cushion. The impact of my frustrated response knocked the pillow off my lap, once again revealing my tent. 

Zoey's eyes zeroed in on my crotch, and that pure look of evil hunger occupied her face. 

"Quit... tempting me," Zoey plead matter-of-factly, flashing a mischievous grin, patting on my exposed cock head with her hand like she was petting a dog. I jerked forward and grabbed the pillow off the floor and covered up again. 

"Jesus Christ, Zoey. Not now!" I chided. 

Zoey leaned back and turned her body toward me, putting one knee up on the couch as she rested her head on her bent left arm, looking over to me and overflowing with deviousness. 

"You need to quit flattering yourself," she chided back, batting her eyelashes while I tried to avoid making eye contact. "Besides, I promised Beth I wouldn't." 

I looked at her incredulous. She what? 

"What do you mean, you promised?" I asked, panicking. "Did you fucking tell her? Please, please tell me you didn't ..." 

"Settle down," she interrupted me, her eyes looking downward as she patted the pillow with her hand. "She knows nothing, you bad, bad boy!" She changed her expression to one of seriousness, then looked away from me. 




Resurrection of Crazy Jane Pt. 05



"No, she told me that she felt jealous when I kissed you in front of her last night," Zoey explained. "So she asked me not to do that kind of stuff when she's around. Not to touch you. It was so cute. She was scared to even ask me, like I had some sort of right to you and she didn't. She's super sweet. And she's so damn cute, but with, like, totally devilish tits. God, I don't know how you control yourself, dude." 

My eyes widened. Did she just remark on Beth's boobs? Like, in a longing way? Like a guy might? 

"Don't be so shocked," she said, reading my eyes. "I've probably been with more girls than you. In fact, I know I have." 

Mind blown. She what!?!? 

Letting her comment hang there, she again angled her head back toward me, looking at me hungrily. She bit her lip as her eyes scanned my body, which looked naked since my only article of clothing - my boxers - was covered up by the pillow. She lifted her finger and ran it down my chest, stroking slowly through my abs, and stopping once she reached the top of the pillow. 

"God, she has no idea what she has in you," Zoey continued, looking right through me with intense eye contact. "Did you know that you've had that huge fucking boner for like two hours? And she and I were running around the apartment as she got ready for church. And the whole time, she barely acknowledged it and didn't seem to care that I saw it? She just found it gross." 

She bit her lip again as I saw her other hand trail down to her crotch. I'd normally be surprised and tense at her physical display, but at this point, this was just typical for Zoey. 

"The only time she said anything was when she made this disgusted grunt as she saw it," she said. "All she said was 'figures.'" 

Casually, she grabbed the pillow and yanked it from me. She held it triumphantly as my cock head was again exposed out of the bottom of my boxers, still not softening a bit, threatening to stretch upward if the fabric fell even a little bit. I exhaled as I knew something was coming. 

But even though she exposed me, she didn't touch me. She just kept smiling at me like the cat that stole the canary. 

"She has no idea," she said dreamily. "If you were mine, I would worship that fucking thing. Let you stick it ... any ... hole your little heart desires." 

"Zoey!" I snapped at her. "Quit it, okay? Be good!" 

"I am being good," she pouted, batting her big blue eyes at me. "I'm not touching you. I'm not kissing you. She already established that me looking at your hard cock is not a problem." She leaned back as she ran a hand up her side and clutched at one of her big tits through her Ramones T-shirt, pulling on a hard distended nipple. "She thinks it's disgusting. Nevermind that I disagree with her. Nevermind that as soon as I noticed you were sleeping with a hard on this morning, I made sure I never left the living room or the kitchen. So I could keep looking at that beautiful fucking thing." 

Lost in her own words, she bit her lip and lifted the bottom of her shirt, exposing one of her big tits and her huge pink areola and nipple. It was the first time I got a close-up look at her boobs, and of course, since I wasn't tempted enough, they were perfect. Like airbrushed Playboy Magazine perfect. If I could have painted my idea of the perfect tit, immortalize it on canvas and hang it in The Louvre, it would have been Zoey's. 

No matter how much control I thought I had, I couldn't keep from letting out a pained groan from seeing her huge boob on her otherwise thin, fit frame. 

And that look in her eyes, dripping with confidence and witchery, said that she knew how fucking perfect her stupid fucking body was. 

Fuck! 

I tried to grab the pillow back from her, but she tossed across the room and gave me a spiteful glare. I was there, exposed, just trying in vain to stuff my cock back into my boxers. I tried to stretch the material over the exposed cock head, but it just wouldn't hold, the boxers springing back every time. 

"Zoey, seriously," I plead. "This has to stop. All of this. You just said you're going to be good." 

My eyes searched hers, hoping to rediscover that tender, empathetic look she gave me while I was trying to comfort Beth. 

"I'm not touchinggggg..." she said in a high, sing-songy voice. Then she abruptly put her fingers in her mouth and seemed to grab a handful of spit. Then she brought her spit-covered hand on level with my cock head, letting her saliva drop out of her hand. 

"What are you..." I began to ask, but she never broke her gaze with me as her eyes became lidded. 

The saliva fell in a string as a drop landed on my thigh, followed by a big, slightly cool dollop striking my sensitive cockhead. 

I groaned as her liquid struck me, my cock twitching and flexing as her eyes just oozed her close-eyed lust, biting her lip as her mouth opened into a slack-jawed smile. 

"That wasn't me," she said proudly. "That was gravity. It was Sir Isaac Newton's fault. Blame him." 

Then she had to follow it up with a nerdy joke? AAARRRGGHHH!! 

I lost all control. I quit thinking. My cock head overruled me. 

Fight or flight. 

Abruptly, I grabbed her face to place a wild, needy kiss on her lips. 

She put her hands around me for a scant second, definitely kissing back, before pushing me away as she breathed heavily, but nowhere near as heavily as I was. 

I was overcome with pure animal lust as the scent of her shampoo and perfume lingered in my nostrils. She smelled like a springtime meadow that was blooming fruit and lilacs, sprinkled with the dew of wet pussy. 

"I said I would be good," Zoey chided me after pushing me away. "I said I wouldn't touch you. Since you're so bad I'm no longer being good." 

She poked an index finger straight into my bare chest. "Because of you, I'm being bad!" she said with a tone of mock flirting that was so fucking sexy, I nearly pushed my lips into her again. 

But she instead stood up, pushing her top back down over her body before moving to the other side of the couch to look down at me. 

"You," she wagged her finger at me, "are a bad influence me." 

ME!? A bad influence? I'm a bad influence on her!? 

What in the actual fuck? 

She curled her hair up in her finger, trying even harder than normal to look cute, and she smiled at me. "But I guess since you kissed me, I didn't do anything wrong by Beth. I didn't break my agreement." 

I froze. I knew that argument. I knew that argument all too well. 

"Yes," she nodded, scrutinizing my every move. "I didn't do anything wrong," she continued softly. "You touched me. She never said you couldn't touch me. At least not explicitly. It's a pretty convincing argument, don't you think?" 

I looked straight ahead, away from her, in fear. My fidgeting was gone and I just felt pure fear and guilt. 

"Thought you'd approve," she said with a perky grin, picking up her coffee to take a sip. Then she turned around and went down the hall to her room, away from my sight. 

"You've got class in an hour!" she reminded me. "But since you're so bad, I'm sure you'll ditch. To hang out with me." Then she was no longer within earshot as I heard her bedroom door close behind her. 

***** 

"Oh fuck," I muttered out, probably a little too loudly. 

I was still sitting on the couch, still in just my boxer shorts, my hard cock pointing to the sky. 

I hadn't intended on jacking off a second time, nor did I intend to blow off class just so I could jerk off. 

The first time around, I immediately began jerking off furiously as soon as Zoey closed her bedroom door. I used what remained of her saliva, mingled with my own precum, to bring myself off in less than two minutes. 

Even though I had had sex the night before, it seemed I was majorly backed up. Like I would've filled two shot glasses with my cum. 

As I used a tissue to clean up the errant cumshots that had landed on my body and the couch cushions, I began absentmindedly rubbing myself again, the vision of Zoey's perfect tits in my head, and five minutes later, I was again hard as a steel girder. 

Second time around, it was taking me longer to get off, and I had been going for 15 minutes, my hands moist with my lingering cum, stubbornly trying to get off again. 

I imagined Zoey's face trying to stretch her lips around my cock, her big blue eyes looking up at me in an almost worshipful gaze. I wondered if she could deepthroat me. When she was blowing Jon, she implied she couldn't. She could deepthroat him, but he had a skinny cock. Mine was way fatter. She didn't think she could. It would be a challenge to her. 

And Zoey loved a damn challenge. 

My mind saw Zoey's excited struggle as she tried to eat more and more of my cock, moving a millimeter at a time as it entered her throat and trudged deeper and deeper, until she finally shoved it all in, her nose in my pubic hair. 

The vision in my head was enough. I finally began to cum, my cock perpendicular to my body, as my first, still quite powerful shot arced into the air. 

"Fuck!" I heard a groan. Who the fuck was that? I instinctively jumped out of my fantasy, looking back to source of the voice. 

All I saw was Zoey. 

Her eyes were lidded, still wearing that T-shirt - but no bottoms at all. She was grabbing one of her exposed tits and was actively frigging herself as she watched me cum. 

And it's not like I could stop. I just kept shooting out more and more, stuck in mid-orgasm. I desperately wanted to stop, but at the same time, the vision of her masturbating as she watched me cum probably made me cum even harder. 

"What the... fucckkkkkk..." I muttered out as my orgasm was coming to a close, unable to be angry with her mid-cum. 

"Ohmigod you cum so fucking much," she whined as her hand picked up speed. She let her shirt lower, putting her hand against the wall to steady herself. Her chest bucked and her breathing got ragged as she pushed herself down the final haul, when with one burst, she moaned like a banshee. 

My eyes travelled to her pussy, and she had a bald, shaven pink kitty. That was a rarity at that time for a woman to be shaved, and fuck it looked good. 

I don't know if it was my mind playing tricks on me, but since her pussy was in view, I swear I saw sprinklets of a squirt escape her twat. But it must've been in my head. That doesn't happen in real life! 

As she came down from her cum, she started giggling uncontrollably. It was almost evil. 

"Oh my fuck, you are so bad!" she shouted, whining and moaning like a woman possessed. "You are so fucking bad!" 

Like a laser, she just shot herself at the couch, landing on top of me, giving me a huge, needy, blurry kiss. 

Oh shit, it's happening! 

Her tongue was grazing over my lips as my hand wrapped around her shoulder and clutched at her shirt. She quickly wriggled out of my grasp, though, and her face dropped to my chest and stomach, where my fresh cum had gathered. Like a dog finding spaghetti on the floor, she licked up every bit she could find. 

As she readjusted her body to lick up my seed, I felt her soaking wet pussy as she straddled my thigh. The feeling of moistness was a new sensation for me. Beth was hardly ever wet. And the feeling made me soar. 

My head was swimming. I couldn't believe what was happening. This fucking sex pot and I, overcoming with unabashed and uncontrolled lust for each other, were finally going to let this happen! 

But Beth. She didn't deserve this. She didn't deserve any of this. It was unfair to her. It didn't matter that she was broken. She would get so hurt by me, and after everything she's put up with in her life, she didn't need one more thing. 

That's when I admitted it. 

I'm cheating. Right fucking now. I'm cheating. I'm a cheating asshole! 

I always prided myself as being "the nice guy." One who, when he finally got a girl, would love her and cherish her and make her feel like the luckiest girl in the world. 

But this fucking girl - Zoey - was a damn tempest. She swept me up and caught me in this firestorm of arousal. I was powerless against it. I'd never been lusted after like this in my life. Especially by such a flawless, sex-starved woman. 

It was that eye contact I shared with Zoey while Beth was crying that broke me. 

I saw a warmth there. She was more than a sex kitten. She was a person. At that precise moment, several hours ago at this point, that I resigned myself to fucking her. 

And that time was now. 

Remarkably, my cock was hard again. I didn't matter that I was mere minutes removed from my last orgasm. This was Zoey. I couldn't resist. No single part of me could. it didn't matter that I'd cum countless times in the last 18 hours. What's one more? 

When she saw it come back to life, still glistened with cum, she hungrily brought her mouth to it to get it straight from the source. 

Oh my fucking God! 

All this teasing. The sexual craziness. Even a fucking attempted rape and here I was. Getting my first blow job. 

Zoey wasn't even trying to get my stiffening prick into her mouth. She just suckled at my slit, like she was drinking from a straw, her hand rubbing up and down the shaft while she spelunked for cum. 

"Oh my fucking God, I can't believe you're ready to go again!" she said, picking her head up, possessed, while still jacking my cock with her hand. "You're such a fucking stud!" 

My head beamed with her compliments as her mouth again lowered to my cock head, this time trying to jam it past her lips. Again, she picked her head up to talk to me. 

"Beth has no idea what she's missing," she said huskily as she again lowered herself and continued to blow me, her lips circling my cock head. 

And that brought my girlfriend back into my mind. I can't let this happen. I fucking can't! 

I won't be that guy. A cheater. I can't. I loved her. Probably, anyway. I can't do this to somebody I loved, no matter how fucking hot the person on top of me was. 

I began to pull back, my cock popping out of her mouth. But she just followed me and again wrapped her mouth around me. 

I took a deep breath. Was I going to let her? 

Or, was I going to trust my conscience? And not hurt Beth. 

I breathed heavily again, more of a sigh. And with my hands on her shoulders, pushed Zoey away from me. 

It was against my better instincts, but I had to. 

Zoey looked at me, shocked. Then her shock turned into anger. Psychotic, spitting anger. 

"You mother fucker!!" she screamed. 

That look I saw her show earlier, the passionate look of anger, returned with a vengeance. 

And it was directed at me! 

She lunged back in my direction, and I froze and felt fear overtake me. Instinctively, I put my hands up to keep her away. 

"You can't fucking do this to me!" she hollered, nearly frothing at the mouth. "Nobody fucking does this to me!" 

To be continued... The story will complete with a Part VI followed by a detailed epilogue, released together.



Resurrection of Crazy Jane Pt. 06



This is the final part of the "Resurrection of Crazy Jane." This part does not stand on its own, so please begin the story from the start to have the full effect.

I have released an epilogue, as well, to be read following this part, if you're so inclined. In a bit of "Choose your own adventure" you can choose to let Part 6 stand on its own, or see the characters' futures in an (admittedly sexless) epilogue.

Thanks for reading! It was so fun to create this story and I hope you enjoyed it! Please give feedback, good or bad. I love any comments and if you post a comment, I will respond if it warrants it.

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If I was a cartoon character, my eyes would have popped out, like an anvil was flying straight on my head.

Only it was Zoey.

She kept lunging her body at me with a sense of desperation, attempting to reach past me, going straight for my now-softening cock.

While her body was full of wanting, her eyes were still pure fury.

Her eyes were enlarged, she was breathing heavily, and she just looked unhinged. Like she could kill me at that instant.

The combination of facial expression and body language was hard to reconcile. And I think it scrambled my brain.

As a result, my body was scared stiff.

"W-w-what are you...?" was all I managed to stammer out during this bizarre scene.

"Nobody says no!" she shouted out, still with crazy eyes, before she suddenly righted herself. It's like she made the sudden decision that she was going compose herself.

Instantly, she transformed her face into something sultry, though she was obviously forcing it after being so angry just seconds before. She bit her lip and smiled shakily as her eyes oozed passionate lust. She leaned back, grabbed the bottom of her shirt, and slowly took it off her body, revealing both of her luscious tits and completely-nude ripped physique to my eyes.

I couldn't help it - my cock responded. The sight before me was pure sexual fantasy.

Her breasts simply jutted out from her body, wide and full, capped with gorgeous full and pink areola. Her waist was so slim and cut, flaring out to her tight apple ass.

And her face was pure beauty. Her big blue eyes, peeking out from behind her glasses, illuminating the youthful face and tight body that lay beneath. She was equal parts Audrey Hepburn and Marilyn Monroe. Princess and porn star.

It wasn't until that moment that I realized, despite my earlier thoughts, that this woman actually wanted me. Maybe even needed me. Her desperation still hung in air.

How in the fuck do I compute this?

Growing up, girls laughed at me. Kicked me in the nuts. I was the epitome of a scrawny geek.

And now, this gorgeous woman, eyeing me like a Thanksgiving feast, is overflowing with need. Desperation. For me!?

If my mind wasn't so used to being blown lately, it would have just seized functioning.

I would never have a woman this beautiful again. I knew that. She was a once-in-a-lifetime wet dream come to life.

Beth and I were going to break up anyway. It was fated, honestly. She couldn't keep managing her crazy while being in a relationship with me. While I was desperately trying to fuck her. This was obvious.

And sitting before me, stark naked, horny and wanting nothing more than me, was this beauty.

Zoey.

I had to decide again - go for it? Or not?

I really wanted to. I couldn't deny it. I wanted to.

Then she interrupted my entire train of thought.

"Come on," she said with allure. "You know how badly you fucking want me. You want every fucking piece of me," she cooed, moving her finger down her body, telling me with a spokesmodel's flair that I could have everything on the menu - as long as I was willing to pay the price.

The price was Beth. And my integrity.

Even if I decided I didn't want Beth, she deserved a normal breakup. Not some scene with her boyfriend fucking her roommate. She didn't need that. If her brain wasn't broken, this would have shattered it.

And even if so, I still couldn't fuck her roommate after breaking up with her.

Zoey was off limits.

"The only thing..." she continued, again breaking my concentration, "... is that I get your cum. All of your fucking gallons of cum."

I did a double take. What????

She just giggled upon seeing my confused look. "That's all I've ever wanted. I've wanted your cum since I first met you. I'll admit it. I'm a cumslut. And a bit of a size queen."

My eyes were wide, and again, I felt like a cartoon character. Like I wanted to shake my head wildly at her proclamation and eyeball her like a wolf staring at the pinup.

This is really happening? Right? She just said all this shit? We're not in a porno right now?

She smiled widely after coming out of the cumslut closet and slowly began to move toward me, her naked body now pressing her flesh into my chest. God, it felt good. The sensation of flesh on flesh, her huge tits pressing into my body as she brought her face six inches away from mine, felt better than any amount horseplay with my cock.

It was sensuous.

I must have finally become a sensuous man.

"That's right," she continued as I stayed silent and shocked. "As soon as I saw that you were hung like a horse, I knew you'd have lots of cum in there." As she said that, she moved her hand down to my cock, now revived, and grasped her hand around the shaft.

"Fuck, baby," she smiled at me, "you have no idea how fucking huge you are, do you?"

Frightened as fuck, almost shaking, I just shook my head "no."

"You have no idea how hot that is," she said, "that you don't even know." She moved her face closer to me, close enough to lick my lips, but still far enough away that we couldn't start kissing.

She moved her head closer to my face to let her lips trail in a series of wet kisses, up my cheek, and to my ear. My body was buzzing with excitement and fear.

"You know what else?" she whispered when her lips reached my ear, nibbling on my earlobe during silent moments.

"When I saw you cum..." Nibble nibble ... "while I was blowing your friend..." Nibble lick ... "I'd never seen that much cum..." Lick nibble bite ... "from one man..." Lick nibble suck ... "in my whole fucking life..." Lick nibble BITE...

She sunk her teeth into my earlobe, and the pleasant pain made me close my eyes and moan. Fuck, she was so damn arousing. Whatever power I had earlier to turn her away from me was now absolutely, 100 percent gone.

As she nibbled my ear, she began jacking my rock-hard cock with noticeable speed. I couldn't resist. But more than anything, I couldn't resist letting her be in charge. That's obviously what she wanted.

And I was going to let her have it.

Beth was a faint memory. So was my conscience. My will. My integrity. It was all absent.

All that existed was the pulsating pleasure pumping through my cock with her every stroke while she worked an incredibly skilled tongue around my ear and neck.

"That's it, baby. That's it," she said assuringly as she lifted her head to look me in my eyes. "Are you going to quit fighting? Hmm?"

I paused. I felt I should say no. But I just couldn't. I felt like I couldn't. Or rather, I shouldn't.

I didn't want to see that crazy look again. I liked this Zoey. Sexy Zoey. Alluring Zoey.

Not the Zoey that looked like she'd make me pay for saying no.

Shyly, quietly, I nodded my head. It seemed an almost unsure nod. But it was a nod nonetheless.

Zoey saw my nod, and her face lit up. She smiled as wide as I'd ever seen, and she let out the cutest little giggle. She bit her lip as her toothy grin took up her face.

"Fuck yeah, baby," she celebrated as she planted a passionate, moist and powerful kiss on my lips. My body was still a bit frozen, almost shaking.

"You got me so upset," Zoey said to me with an exaggerated pout on her face, still jacking my cock. "When I thought you weren't going to give me what I wanted," she shifted tone, to a more quiet, matter-of-fact tone, "I was going to fucking make you pay."

She what?! This proclamation made her confession of being a cumslut and a size queen melt away. This, what she just said, filled me with dread. It sent a chill up my spine, but not the good kind. It was more like the chill you get when you get the phone call that a family member died. The dread rushes up your spine and clouds your head.

She began to turn her head so she could kiss her way down my chest. Little pecks, every inch or so, down my chest, lower and lower, all the while still gripping my cock.

"And you don't want to know how I get vengeance," Zoey informed me with an almost cold tone in her voice. The look made me shudder again. She made it clear that I had no choice anymore. Free will was out the window. I felt so uncomfortable at this moment. I didn't know how to react. My head was swimming in confusion, but my body obviously liked it. Apparently.

I was still hard as a rock as she continued stroking me, moving her lips lower.

And lower.

"Luckily, my sensuous man, you won't ever have to find out. Because, finally, I fucking have you."

In one sinking motion, she plunged down on me, taking all of my cockhead into her mouth, applying mind-erasing suction. As her mouth made physical contact with me, her eyes rolled back in her head as she smiled around the width of my cock. Like it was a sense of relief.

I felt shaky. That was the best word I could use. Like I was shivering. It was almost an out of body experience. Like my soul was trying to check out and not acknowledge what was happening.

But it was happening.

The strange moan I let out as her tongue first massaged my cock was more powerful than any word I could have used to describe it.

"Arrrgghhhaa-haaa-hhaaaaa" I bellowed, shivering, as the sensation of her mouth in full blowjob position overtook me. Earlier, she was just trying to mine me for my cum, her lips dancing on my slit.

Now, she was giving me head.

And somehow, I didn't want to let myself enjoy it.

She started inching her way down, taking about four inches into her mouth, before I saw her begin to tear up.

"Mmmm... fuck!" she groaned as she pulled her face off of my cock, looking straight at me while continuing to stroke. "You're already choking me, baby," she admitted as a tear escaped down her cheek, creating a wide, lusty smile.

I think I liked being in control. That was the only thing that could explain this feeling of uneasiness that I had. I decided right then and there that I would do my best to cum as quickly as I could. Because, for the first time, I decided that this feeling that I had, whatever it was, was bad.

I smiled a nervous grin back at her, and I felt my body vibrate.

I didn't know what this sensation was. I was visibly shaking, like I was walking around inside of a walk-in freezer. I was contending with chills of some sort, and I simply couldn't stop them. I wasn't even this shaky when I first had sex with Beth. This was different. Like the whole sensation was out of my control.

She seemed to pay no heed to this. That was, until, my cock started to react.

"Don't go all soft on me," she said, gripping my cock tightly to tell me what she was talking about.

I was losing my erection, going from my normal rigidity to floppy in a big hurry.

I began to panic.

Her voice took on more authority, and I had no idea what signals my face was sending. I just felt my mouth still agape, taking all of this in.

"I said don't go fucking soft on me!"

"Zoey, m-m-maybe..." I nervously stammered as my jaw continued to shiver.

"NO!" she said as her anger returned, and it made that earlier sense of fear come rushing back. "FUCK NO!"

She squeezed my cock harder, to the point where it actually hurt, as she began jacking me at sonic speed, willing my boner to return with its normal vengeance. I felt the rugburn sensation and I winced.

Meanwhile, my brain was scrambled, somehow trying to interpret eight different emotions at once.

She brought her eyes closer to mine, but it wasn't tender or sexual. It was downright threatening.

"Be a FUCKING MAN!" Zoey's yelled, her eyes ablaze with rage.

My mind immediately retreated. I thought of Beth. Sweet Beth. I thought of spooning with her in bed, giving her tender kisses. The smile she gave me when I told her she was beautiful. When we shared a goofy joke. Even when we had bad sex. When she seemed like she wasn't there. Like she mentally checked out.

Like I was doing right now.

I wanted her to be right there with me. When we were making love, I wanted her with me. To look at me and feel what I was feeling. A few times, though, she was.

And that's what I thought about.

I remembered the time after she bought her cherry red bra, the day after I met Zoey. The little giggles she let out as she let me make love to her on the floor. And the best part was the smallest of motions - when I felt her body seem to reciprocate mine as I thrust my body into hers during foreplay. That simple symbiosis seemed miles away. But my heart ached for it. I was almost tearful thinking about it. Recalling the moment, her shy beauty as we made love, gave me a calmness as I thought, for the first time with true acceptance - I was in love with Beth.

"Atta boy," Zoey's words brought me out of my head, staring straight at my cock.

I let my eyes focus open for a moment to see my cock back at full mast, Zoey pumping it aggressively with both hands like a woman possessed. The thought of Beth must have resuscitated me. I noted red welts on my dick as her hands moved quickly, and I felt more ambient pain than pleasure and was scared shitless that I'd lose my hard-on again.

But just as quickly, she jammed my cock into her face, pushing as much down her throat as she could. I couldn't deny the feeling when my cock head popped past the opening of her throat, into a blanket of warmth I had never felt before. Instinctively, I thrust my hips up, even deeper into her throat, as she grabbed my cock tightly at the root and started aggressively gagging herself on my girth.

She pulled herself off of my cock, saliva escaping her throat in bubbly handfuls, running down my shaft as her teary eyes looked almost cross-eyed at my cock.

She wasn't even acknowledging my presence anymore. She was simply talking straight to my dick.

"Fuck, you're amazing," she said to my cock in a haze of lust, making eye contact with my cock head as she continued rubbing and sucking before pulling her head off again. "I need your fucking cum."

She sucked a few more seconds before she suddenly adjusted herself, moving her body up mine, and once again, I froze.

She had hovered her shaved pussy right above my still-hard, saliva-coated cock.

She wouldn't...

"This will move the process along," she said, finally addressing me, "so I can take all your fucking cum."

I wanted to push her away. I wanted to end this. To run away. To find Beth. To live on a commune all day long and make love and write poetry and even worship her God. Anywhere else.

Anywhere.

"No..." I finally uttered. It was soft, non committal. Almost a reflex.

My body was frozen, but I opened up my eyes quickly enough to see her angle her head up to me. Those crazy, angry eyes returned as she held my cock in her hand and the opening of her pussy was kissing my cock head.

"I already told you," Zoey informed me as she took on an evil grin. "Nobody. Says. No."

With absolutely no fanfare, she pushed her body down onto my cock, and again those feelings of horrific shaking returned.

"Oh, holy fucking fuck!" Zoey screamed. "This cock is so fucking amazing!"

But I was motionless. I didn't move. I couldn't move. My brain was simply beaten into submission.

I closed my eyes as I felt her move slowly down my shaft, moaning, gasping and muttering with every single inch she took in. I finally felt myself bottom out, then came the massage.

I felt her pussy grip me, like hundreds of fingers massaging my cock with pinpoint accuracy, and as the tightness enveloped me with her every squeeze, if finally started to relax me. It had the effect of a shiatsu massage. And I couldn't help but moan as I felt my cock flex inside of her.

"That's it, baby. That's it," Zoey said assuringly. "Give mama your cum."

I tried opening my eyes, and the vision on top of me, Zoey's beauty, her big blue eyes, her stupidly perfect tits and rock hard body, still couldn't cure me of these stupid thoughts I was having. I was chastising myself for wanting to leave this scene. It was perfect. Any man in the world would want to be here right now. But Zoey was right. I am a pussy. I'm not even a man. I'm a disembodied cock. My only worth is my cum. My life-giving cum. She was right. I owed her for being here. For being with me. I didn't deserve it. I'm undeserving. But she chose me. She chose my cock and she's made that clear. So I needed to give her what she wanted.

The Beth's smiling face entered my mind. Our cute little courtship. The glances we stole from each other when we were working on our story together. The short story project that brought us together. Holding hands walking through campus to class. The first time we kissed at her front door after our first date, when we went to the movies to see "Cars" of all things.

Then I thought of the look of desperation on her face when she told me her secrets. When she told me what her father and his friends had done to her as a child, offering her up as a sacrifice inside of some religious cult. I still had trouble believing it. I don't know if I believed any of it. Even when she'd say strange things, like she had heard voices throughout the Spencer Academic Building at school, voices she said belonged to the members of the cult. That they were there to whisper in the hallways to make her remember. Remember what they did.

"She's a paranoid schizophrenic!" I remember one of my friends tell me when I talked about Beth. But she was so scared when she told me. It felt so true.

I thought of how she acted when we finally began having sex. That was true apprehension and fear. It all made sense. This terrible thing happened to her, and it had scrambled her mind enough so that this was how she was reacting with me.

It all made sense.

Even the dreams she had that I raped her.

That still made me upset. That she would think I was doing that to her. It made me want to do something. To prove that I wasn't like them. I was different.

Then I thought of Zoey. I wouldn't open my eyes to look at her, but I thought about her. I thought about how she tempted me. Teased me. Lured me. Lured me into this very moment. I was a good guy. I wasn't a cheater. I loved my girlfriend Beth. I wouldn't do anything to hurt her. But Zoey compelled me. Compelled me to do bad things.

At that moment, I thought of Beth's father. I wanted to kill him. If I knew where he was, I would fucking kill him. In cold blood. I wanted to make him feel what he did to Beth before I slit his fucking throat.

I shocked myself with that line of thinking and I opened my eyes, enraged. I saw Zoey bouncing up and down on my cock with her eyes closed, dripping with sweat, biting her lip over and over again as she grabbed her tit and her mouth slowly became agape. Her thrusts got a bit faster. Her breaths caught until she sounded like she was almost hyperventilating.

Then I felt a gush of warm liquid running down my shaft, slowly, like the first sensation of a hot shower, the liquid coated my balls as Zoey began moaning to the heavens as her open mouth turned into a big satisfied smile.




Resurrection of Crazy Jane Pt. 06



It felt good. I couldn't deny it. But thoughts of killing Beth's father, getting vengeance. Any vengeance. It made something snap in me.

I grabbed Zoey's waist and threw her backward, off of me and onto her back. My cock still stayed inside of her as I folded her body in half, her knees and ankles up against her head.

I thrust as hard as I could, like I was trying to break through the back of her pussy. I didn't care. I didn't fucking care. I decided that I was angry and upset and full of rage and I wanted to take it out on something deserving. Somebody.

Zoey.

As I did this, she got the biggest, most devious and evil smile I'd ever seen in my life from anybody. Her eyebrow was crooked, her big blue eyes looked crazy as fuck, and her smirk was undeniable. It was a smirk of a dictator who had just successfully compelled an advisor to do her bidding.

It was a look of accomplishment.

And fuck that.

Immediately, I felt her warmth again. I felt a rush of warm liquid kiss my swinging balls as I rammed into her. She was screaming now, her lusty haze now on pure overload. She was long fucking gone.

Just like I was.

Over and over, I thrust as deep into her as I could. As I bottomed out, I still had a good inch or two that didn't make its way inside of her. So I pushed with all my might. I wanted to tear a fucking hole in her. I was so angry. I wanted to fucking punish her. To make her hurt.

"Ow, fuck... Fuck... fuck..." she winced with her mouth wide open as her words returned to her, her hips still rocking as I tried to jam every bit of my cock into her. Tried to rip a hole into her cervix. I wanted her to feel pain.

"Oh God, baby, I fucking love it rough!" she howled, her head swimming as I hate-fucked her.

Again, almost on top of the other one, her breaths and moans began to rise to a crescendo and she fucking came AGAIN!

What a bitch. She fucking liked it!

I began to panic. I didn't know what to do. My plan had failed miserably. I wanted to punish her for what she was doing to me, forcing me to be her stupid little fuck toy, and she was getting off on it?

Then she started the pussy massage thing again. God damn it!

I kept trying to fuck my cock through her throat, but her powerful pelvic muscles wouldn't let me get as deep as I wanted. They held me there. Held me where she wanted to. Directed me to her whim.

She lidded her eyes at me with a daring gaze. Wordlessly, she was saying "Fuck you. I'm STILL in charge."

I couldn't help that it felt good. I'm only a man and my cock knows only one sensation. One language.

Pleasure.

I felt my cock thicken and expand, and I knew what was coming. The last thing I wanted to do was cum inside of this girl, while not wearing a condom. Maybe even knock this bitch up.

But then it occurred to me - If you cum, this is over.

I would finally, mercifully, be allowed to leave. To get the fucking fuck out of here!

So, I just let it happen.

I let myself cum. I let myself hose down Zoey's insides.

We'd be done.

I felt my first gush slam out into her and it almost hurt. It was a strange sensation. I didn't like it. It wasn't pleasurable.

It was just the period at the end of the sentence.

Or maybe, a question mark.

No matter what the punctuation, there was only one appropriate punctuation mark to describe the feeling I had when the front door suddenly opened.

Exclamation point!

*****

I would replay the hour that followed over and over again. The rest of my life. The rest of my stupid fucking life.

As I was in the middle of cumming inside of Zoey, my eyes widened when I heard the door open. I didn't even need to look.

It was Beth.

I just saw Zoey's face. Finally focusing on her face, which was far gone in ecstasy as I came inside of her.

But, slowly, her face contorted.

The change only took one second, tops, but in my head, it was in slow motion, like the change took an entire minute.

Her eyes began in pure pleasure. She was savoring every drop I was unloading into her. She loved it. The evil fucking bitch loved it.

Then, as the door opened, she, too, widened her eyes. Her body jumped in fear. She looked toward the door and her mind registered what I didn't even need to look at.

Beth was home.

She quickly looked back at me, her hands on my back, and in one motion, I felt her hands drop. Her body go limp. And for a split second, she smirked at me. Her eyes were full of satisfied vengeance. It was fucking bone chilling.

Her evil smirk then turned into a close-lipped smile, then her eyes began to scrunch up. I saw them moisten. By the time she pushed out tears, her smile turning into a wail, I was done.

"Beth, help me!!!!" Zoey screamed, now full on crying uncontrollably.

Her cries seemed to sever my hearing. Similar to when I rushed Zoey's attacker in the parking lot, when all I could do was hear and feel, now, all I could do was see.

I heard nothing. I couldn't hear Zoey's cries. Or Beth's cries as she reacted. I just saw Beth push me away from Zoey. I saw my cock still leaking cum. I saw Zoey immediately retreat into a fetal position on the other side of the couch.

I just stood there, my cock softening, as Beth looked at me from 10 feet away, crying in spasms and giving me the most deflating look I'd ever received.

A look of love and devotion retreating into aggressive hatred and anger.

I know I stood there shocked, still, and also, very very naked. The nudity was more than physical. It was like every bit of my soul was gone. Exposed. Like it had escaped out of my cock when I came into Zoey, and now it was gone.

Like Zoey, that fucking succubus, had stolen my soul.

When I saw Beth get out her phone and shakily make a phone call, I knew. She was calling the cops on me. I knew.

I collapsed against the wall with a thud, shaking the table next to me.

Tumbling off table and onto my naked thigh, was the Yeats book of poetry. It dropped onto me, landing open quite awkwardly, settling into my lap, pages on either side of my thigh.

I picked it up, turning the open book over to reveal it had opened up to a familiar poem, "Crazy Jane on the Day of Judgment." I remembered I read this poem the day Zoey moved in. The day everything ended. Even before it actually ended.

This time, with nothing else to do but to numbly await my fate, I let myself read the whole thing:

'Love is all

Unsatisfied

That cannot take the whole

Body and soul';

And that is what Jane said.

'Take the sour

If you take me

I can scoff and lour

And scold for an hour.'

"That's certainly the case,' said he.

'Naked I lay,

The grass my bed;

Naked and hidden away,

That black day';

And that is what Jane said.

'What can be shown?

What true love be?

All could be known or shown

If Time were but gone.'

'That's certainly the case,' said he.

===========

Thanks for reading! If you'd like to see what happens to our protagonist, please read the Crazy Jane Epilogue, which is (spoiler alert) sex-free. If that doesn't interest you, hopefully you think the story stands on its own ending right here!



Resurrection of Crazy Jane Pt. 07-Epilogue



What follows is the epilogue for the six-part "Resurrection of Crazy Jane."

If this is your first exposure to this story, please consider reading from Part 1. I didn't go out of my way to let this epilogue or any other part stand on its own.

If you have read through to this point, make the decision whether to continue. There is no sex at all in this part. It is simply a dramatic epilogue, telling what happens to our protagonist. I'm a huge fan of stories that end on hanging action (E.g.: Harry Potter), and prologues tend to anger me. So decide whether you love the ending that exists in your own head, or if you want your questions answered. I don't mind either way!

Please leave comments, positive or negative, as I'd love your feedback. I'll even respond if appropriate.

Thanks for reading!

===========

"Then the bitch, the fucking bitch," I seethed, "started crying. On fucking cue. And Beth. Beth fucking believed everything."

I'd been in therapy for six years. And sitting across from me, Dr. Kenneth, who demanded I call him "Jim," finally got my story. All of it. He was the first.

In prison, therapists don't stay with you very long. Jim was my fourth therapist, trying to see through to my evil ways that compelled me to rape an 18-year-old girl. My girlfriend's roommate. Coldly and without apology.

He was trying to figure out if I was some kind of monster.

*****

The scene that they had heard about regarding my rape was gruesome.

There I was. Found raping this poor girl, cum still dripping from my cock, as I had this crazy, possessed look in my head.

Like I was about to kill somebody.

I remember during the trial, Beth painted a picture that I was a predator. I sought her out since she was a victim of rape herself as a child, making her an easy target. How I sweet-talked her, like a sociopath priming his prey with unrelenting charm, waiting for my moment to strike.

The same was true of what I did to Zoey, herself a rape survivor.

Beth called every time we had sex "rape." That's what she told the jury before my attorney objected. The judge didn't allow that to pass into court record, since I was on trial for raping Zoey, but the jury couldn't un-hear it.

But the fact that my DNA was inside of Zoey was all it took.

It didn't help when, at one point, I looked out to the peanut gallery during the trial, seeing Beth and Zoey watching it all. The whole time, Beth had the expression of the rape victim. Not Zoey.

Of course Zoey didn't look like the victim.

It also didn't help when I noticed them holding hands. And it didn't help when I noticed them kissing. Like a fucking couple.

Then I remembered.

Her comments.

Zoey always thought Beth was cute. I mean, really really cute. She talked about her big boobs longingly. Like she was the one that wanted to motorboat them and lose herself in her never ending cleavage.

Then I thought of Beth. She was a victim of rape. Her first real boyfriend "raped her roommate."

Men were monsters. Not to be trusted. And there were alternatives. Of course. Of fucking course!

And apparently, from the looks of this domestic scene between the two of them, it flipped a switch in me.

The rage bubbled up. She turned her? Zoey? And Beth? Lesbian??!?

"What the fuck!?" I yelled out during cross-examination of a character witness from the bookstore. I stood, turning my body toward the crowd and shooting daggers at Beth and Zoey. "You FUCKING BITCH!!!!" I screamed, uncontrolled, making a motion like I was going to rush them.

Instead, I collapsed. Screaming, my head in my hands. Uncontrolled

I was helpless.

I was on my knees, screaming, almost convulsing, in the fucking courtroom. They sent cops out to get me. Straight jacket. Padded room. Suicide watch. The whole fucking deal.

Zoey was with Beth? They were girlfriends? Probably fucking? THE BITCH!!!!

*****

My public defender didn't like that I offered no explanation of the rape. I didn't tell him about the teasing. Or the time with she and Jon down at the river. All I said was that my relationship with Beth was consensual. But that was all.

Regarding Zoey, I just said, numbly, "I did it."

And he really didn't like my mental breakdown in the courtroom.

I didn't care. I didn't care to fight. Fight or flight? I was definitely all about flying at this point. What good would it do? Nobody was going to believe me, anyway. I was nothing but a dirty rapist and that's all I would ever be.

The thing about public defenders was that they were working on five to ten cases at a time. They're not going to dig. They're not going to try to defend a rapist. Or murderer. Or what have you. If you don't volunteer information, they're just going to assume guilt and go through the motions, moving on to the next case.

That's why it took under an hour for the jury to deliberate my fate.

Guilty of first-degree rape.

What was the point, really? Why tell my story to a therapist? To a cell mate? Anybody?

Nobody would believe me, and it would just look like I was pussy, anyway. Which is what I was. She made sure she reminded me of that numerous times. It's because it was the truth.

The woman used me, mind-fucked me and actual-fucked me, and then to jam the knife in deeper, she stole my fucking girl?!?

If it walks like a pussy and smells like a pussy...

The numbness made it easy to go through the motions with the first three therapists they threw at me before they all moved on to other jobs, forcing me to start a therapeutic relationship with a brand new person each time.

The numbness also helped me through the times I was prison raped. Yes, that stuff actually happens, especially when you're young and fit, with apparently boyishly good looks. By the second time it happened, when I tried to bite the guy's dick off for face-fucking me in the shower, people learned to keep their hands off of me.

I began using my ability to snap and turn psycho to my advantage. People knew that I, too, was capable of rape, so they left me the fuck alone.

After that dick-biting incident, they moved me to another cellblock. My new cellmate was a short little Hispanic guy. But he was quiet. Shy. Scared to death. I had moved way beyond that scared shit years ago. By this point, I was hardened.

The guy's name was Mario. I tried to chat him up, but he was quiet. He had only been in for a few weeks. His previous cellmate, a seasoned felon serving for assault and battery, had gotten into a fight with him and beat his ass. Mario's eyes were still black and blue.

That was all the story I could get out of him.

After a few moments of quiet, the guy started crying. I sighed, but I also knew that I'd been there. I was just more private about it. I did my very best to not show weakness inside of this place from the very beginning.

It's empowering to give zero fucks.

I sighed, though. I didn't want to deal with his blubbering but I also didn't want to be an asshole.

I walked over to the guy and gave him a hug. And he just lowered his head into my chest and silently wailed.

I patted his head gingerly. "If you fucking tell anybody that I let you cry on me, I'll blacken your eyes again, understood?"

He nodded and continued crying, my warning actually making him chuckle. "Sorry, man," he said between spasms, looking downward as his head was still buried in my chest. "Some bitch claimed I raped her. But I didn't, man. I was in love with her and she claimed I raped her. And now I'm... I'm... here"

He finally raised his head and looked up at me, tear-filled, full of fear, and his green eyes tore through me, thanking me for showing him mercy.

I know these eyes.

I KNEW THESE FUCKING EYES!

*****

When I realized that my new cellmate was the guy from the parking lot, Zoey's "rapist," I lost my shit. I started crying too.

She had done the same to him that she did to me.

She cried rape and ruined his life.

When I had my therapy appointment with Jim the next day, I began to open up.

And it was like a dam had broken.

He was able to see me four times a week, since we were breaking through. He finally got me to talk and was finally getting my story.

He heard about my virginity. My voyage of self-improvement. Her teasing. My ill-fated reunion with Mario that really led to this whole baring-my-soul thing.

For the most part, Jim listened. He just prompted me to tell him more and more. Asked me the right questions. But mostly, he let me rant. He let me just put it all out there.

When I finally told the story of the rape, giving him my perspective, and then connecting it to Mario, I saw his face slowly go white.

"I'm, I'm so sorry," Jim told me assuringly. "What happened to you is unfair. Really fucking unfair, man. Zoey sounds like a sociopath. A clinical sociopath. She should be sitting here. Not you."

Hearing Jim say that it was unfair was really a small gesture. But I had been carrying the weight of this rape for six years. I felt it was all my fault. That I deserved everything I was getting. That maybe I really did rape Zoey.

But, Jim softened me. A lot.

Zoey? A sociopath? It kind of made sense. She seemed to have zero regard for those around her. We were just pawns in her world.

I let a tear escape as he said all this. That it was unfair. Because it fucking was.

"You played a role, sure," he continued. "You cheated on Beth. That's not good. But you were a victim, too. You were a sociopath's victim. You were violated in the worst kind of way."

I stared at him slack-jawed. Me? Violated?

I immediately thought of Beth. She was violated too. Her father violated her. It had broken her. It had fried her brain. All because of a series of actions described by one word.

"Rape?"

"Is that what you think it was?" Jim asked.

I stared blankly. Not thinking.

"Yeah. she ... she ... raped me."

*****

The first day I took a walk in my new neighborhood, I shuddered when I saw the flyer.

The flyer had my mugshot on it from 10 years prior.

"Keep this pervert away from our kids!" it read.

The flyer called for a community meeting because me, now a registered sex offender, had moved into a shitty one-bedroom apartment nearby.

Seeing it made me want to cry.

I was going to be in prison for life.

I was finally let out after eight years in prison. It was seven years early, but Jim made an impassioned appeal on my behalf, and I won early release.

But the conviction was still on my record.

And everything I had been working toward was gone.

I wanted to be a creative writing professor. A scholar. A writer.

But, I wasn't allowed in such places, lest I get sexual access to impressionable young women.

So, all of that was gone.

I had trouble even finding an apartment. People aren't really willing to rent to sex offenders.

I had gotten a job at a Carl's Jr., but I wasn't allowed to work up front and deal with customers. I could only flip burgers for minimum wage. But when you're in a halfway house, you find that you'll take any job.

It didn't matter that I finished my degree online while in prison, then got a Master's in English.

Nobody would hire a felon and a sex offender.

My place was a walk-in closet, essentially, sitting on top of an old corner drug store that had gone out of business and stood abandoned. I slept on a pile of clothes in the middle of the floor. Walked to work one mile away. That was my geographic zone that I couldn't leave. Sex offenders aren't allowed to leave a certain area without permission.

But, I had made night manager. I wasn't a real manager, per se, but it was a title to reward me for my hard work, and enough to get me above minimum wage, earning a cool $9.25 per hour.

When you're a sex offender, you don't go out much. You can't even try to date online, because your internet use is monitored. Every social media site is blocked for me. I can't enter a library and use their computer. Nothing.

They acted as if I raped a child. But I was convicted of first-degree rape. So all the same blanket rules applied.

I could've frequented bars for social interaction, but that wasn't my game. I was back to being the shy person I was before Beth and Zoey came along - only 100 times worse.

When Mario got out, having the same story, he moved in with me and we split the rent. I helped him get a job at Carl's Jr., as well. Oddly, we had a great little bromance, to be honest. He was my life partner, for better or worse. My thankfully sexless life partner.

We eventually moved to a bigger apartment so we each had our own rooms. Mario became a kitchen manager, too.

I had began writing again and began to submit my work to literary journals. After seven months of submissions, going freaking broke paying the submission fees, I finally got an acceptance letter from a journal called "Otis Nebula."

You don't get rich as a poet. In fact, it's more likely to create poverty than wealth. However, after several more journals, my manuscript was accepted to be published. I was still working fast food, writing in a series of 25-cent notebooks since I was denied computer access.

But I was writing again. I had something again. I was, you could say, resurrected.

All because of one poem, this one collection of words, that brought me back:

The Resurrection of Crazy Jane

Crazy Jane's beard reeked of river water

Where His scent of discarded condoms and candy wrappers

was reputable.

For the past nine years, He had been in need

of a morning pick-me-up;

And they didn't let the Riffraff near the coffee shop,

Lest Jane remind the hipsters

that He looked like them.

The lounge tables were filling up,

With teenagers who had It

figured out.

"They know not," Jane muttered,

fiddling with His tepid trench coat,

covered in a life of bird shit.

The Journeyman appeared

in front of the empty cafe.

She hadn't aged a day

Her shy glances taking nothing

at face value.

Crazy Jane thought He saw

the Journeyman smile hello.

He combed His hair with a rock,

to grin back at the Journeyman.

But like Crazy Jane's mind,

The Journeyman

was never there.