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Maybe

By: fifty5



It was when she was 16, the same age as my eldest son, that I first noticed her amongst the crowd of youngsters who seemed to make our house their club.

She was sitting at the piano in our dining room playing, well, goodness only knows what - that part of the moment escapes me. What I do remember is her smile - and her breasts, bulging gently above her shirt, rising and falling gently as she drew breath, looking soft as thistledown, but firm enough to thrust proudly upwards and forwards.

And she wasn't just pin-up material; she was intelligent and talented as well - the piano was just one of the instruments she played.

A year or so passed and some of the crowd were pairing up, and if I was reading the signs correctly, not just for conversation, but she was still on her own. My wife, a friend and I had subscriptions to the orchestral concert series held in our city and if any of us couldn't make one of the dates we had taken to inviting her to go and fill the empty seat.

The better I knew her, the more I wanted her.

My wife understands me. She knows that I'll love her and live with her for ever; but that doesn't stop me falling in love - OK, in lust - with other pretty women. To us, 'faithfulness' means 'no deception': keeping no secrets from each other. So I told my wife about my desire for this beautiful girl. My wife's reaction was what I hoped for: "She's a woman now, not a schoolgirl any more - if she says 'yes' then it's OK with me."

It was in a restaurant after one of the concerts (just she and me that time) that I asked her...

My wife was right: she was quite grown up enough not to be at all offended by my improper suggestion, but her answer was a refusal: "What about your wife?"

I wanted to explain that my wife and I understood each other, and that...

But I couldn't - I mean, there's only so much you can explain over pasta!

To cut a long story short, the result was a 'no score defeat'.

Time went on and my feelings didn't change. Other things happened and - well, other things happened.

As I said, she was the same age as, and hung about with the same crowd as, my son. Maybe our liberal attitudes were the reason, but our house was the place where they all hung out. Some moved away to college or university and the farewell parties and reunions were sometimes pretty wild. At one of those she had far too much to drink and - well, I won't say what, but she did something she shouldn't have done. Actually, it didn't matter much to me - I've been young and drunk myself. But to her it was the ultimate sin - she was too embarrassed to face me. All I knew was that she didn't show up any more. Mind you, by that time our two had also fled the nest, so it was only at the reunions that we saw any of the crowd.

Several years passed. It seemed like very few to me, but it must have been something like a decade. This time the farewell party was for my younger son who was going abroad - but this one was at my elder son's house not ours. Then, suddenly, there she was. She came over to me and after a conventional greeting she apologized for her behaviour so long ago. She told me that a couple of weeks after it happened she'd seen me in town and was so embarrassed that she ran away before I saw her! Of course, I told her that was OK and gave her a hug to prove it.

And I looked down at her...

Of course, it wasn't the same shirt she wore back then - this one was blue while the other was black - but once again her cleavage showed, just as it had when she played our piano. Her breasts looked just as soft, just as firm, and just as tempting - and they had just the same affect on me as they had then.

I let go of her and she told me what had happened in her life: mostly down to three marriages to men who treated her like dirt. The last divorce has almost finished going through the courts. "So I'm single again," she said.

I've seen her several times since that and met her young sons - she's a really great mum - and she's coming with us to the next season of concerts...

She's nearly twice as old now as she was when she played our piano, but to me she still looks as fresh and beautiful as when she was 16.

Of course, she met someone else instead - on the Internet. He's a nice guy: I've met him...

But she's told me that they won't be an item in the long term - something about houses and all the kids from previous pairings.

Just maybe, instead of being a father figure, I might - one day - get to make love to her as I think I could.

Maybe



"Are you ready for this?"

She hovers just in front of my face. My hands held down above my head. Her pussy is wet with sex - both hers and mine.

"Because you're getting it, whether you are ready. Or not." She looks down into my eyes and smiled.

An hour before, Rashel was just getting home from work. I had the day off. Most of the day was spent playing video games and surfing the web, but just before she got home I went into action. A few candles in the bedroom, a few in the bathroom. Bath salts and bubbles ready. Toys washed up and sitting beside the bed. 

Everything was in place to give Rashel an amazing night.

When I heard her car pulling in the driveway, I started the hot water and stripped to my underwear.

"Hey dear, I'm home!"

I ran over to the top of the stairs. "Toss your stuff down, lock the door, and come on up."

She caught a brief glance of me before I darted back down the hall to the bathroom. "Uh, okay. Are you in just your undies?"

"Maaaybe. You'll have to find out."

I started pouring in the salt as she made her way up the stairs. Then I stepped back into the hallway and wrapped her up in my arms.

"Hey!" I gave her a small kiss on the mouth. "Oh, there's a new rule. No clothes allowed upstairs."

"Is that so? Then what are these you're wearing?" She reached down and grabbed my cock, still clad in underwear. I was already half mast from the anticipation and the little squeeze she gave pushed me even further. She whispered in my ear, "I love feeling you get hard in my hand."

I grabbed her face and turned it into mine and really laid into her. I shoved my tongue into her mouth and she moaned in response. A little hint of how the night would be going.

Or so I thought.

"Why don't you take all those heavy clothes off and hop in the tub with me?"

"I could probably do that," she smirked.

We walked into the bathroom, hand in hand. Exaggerating the motions, I turned away from her, bent over, and pulled my underwear off as slowly as possible. Still bent over, she smacked my ass. This should have been my first hint that the night wouldn't quite go as planned.

"Hey now! What was that for?"

"That was for being naughty and sending me all those dirty texts while I was trying to work."

"I tried to get you to play hooky with me and have a sex day, but nooo. You have to go and be responsible."

She was now down to her underwear. As she slid them down her legs she deliberately turned toward me and covered her butt so I couldn't smack her in return. 

I gave a little fake pouty lip and told her, "that's no fair."

"I don't know what you're talking about..."

I stepped into the tub and sat down, sliding to the back so she had room in front of me.

"Nope," she said. "Not tonight. My turn to be the big spoon."

"Alright. Just gives you better access to me." I slid forward and she stepped in behind me. I tried giving her a quick peck as she climbed over me, which she playfully avoided.

We soaked in the bath for about a half hour as the water went from hot, to warm, to tepid. We chatted about our days. We traded some caresses. She fondled my balls. I reached around and caressed her nipples. She stroked my shaft. I ran my fingers around the outside of her vagina.

She then leaned forward and kissed my ear as her fingers roamed from my chest down to my stomache and beyond. "You about ready to get out of here?"

I played coy. "What would we do then?"

Her fingers traced to my thighs, over to my testicles. She knows that dragging fingernails along them drives me wild. She slid them a little lower, reaching all the way back to my ass and pressing gently on it.

"I was thinking maybe you get out and dry off, then head to the bedroom and wait for me. Maybe lying on your stomach. Maybe with your legs spread open a bit, looking all sexy..."

"Mmm, I could maybe do that. But then what happens?"

"You'll have to wait and see..."

"That's what I had planned on telling you."

"Oh? Too bad... why don't we turn the shower on and rinse off this soap?"

I kicked open the drain and stood up, then reached a hand back to help her up.

"Oof. You really should have let me pee when I got home."

This made me grin. "And ruin all the fun?" 

"Don't you dare!"

I pinned her to the wall and started tickling her sides. She squirmed and squeaked. "Stop it!"

She smacked one hand away, so I reached down and started squeezing at her thigh. This spot is even more ticklish. 

"Why do you do this to me?"

"Because it's fun."

"I'm going to pee all over you."

I stopped tickling her for the moment and met her gaze. Then I pressed my lips against hers and resumed our forceful kissing from earlier. Her tongue danced back against mine. 

"Is that what you want...?" She asked, so quietly I almost couldn't hear. Her lips still pressed against mine. Just about the most adorable thing in the world.

My answer came in the form of kissing down her body. First her chin. Down her neck. Between her breasts. Across her stomache and her pierced belly button. To the short little patch of hair she keeps. One kiss right on her clit that gets a big moan from her. And then I resume the aggressiveness and stick my tongue right up into her as deep as I can. This gets an even bigger moan.

"Mmmmmm. I love it when you stick your tongue up inside me." 

She is already soaking wet from our playing in the tub. But I can feel her getting wetter as I assault her with my tongue.

"Baby I reaaally have to pee."

I slide my way back up her body and kiss her lips again. My dick lands between her legs and presses gently against her. "Then pee," I whisper back into her lips.

She looks me straight in the eyes and we stay that way for a few seconds. Then I feel a warm trickle on the top of my shaft and hear droplets hitting the now empty tub. It's warm. It trickles down around my cock, down my balls, down my legs as if it's my own. Some flows back to my ass.

I look down and see it flowing out of her, down her legs. I look back up and whisper again, "that is so fucking hot." Then I give her a huge, wet, sloppy kiss and she returns it just as greedily. 

As the flow stops I quickly slide down her body and shove my tongue back inside of her. She grabs my had and presses it tighter into her.

"Mmm let's get to the bedroom now, I need you inside of me."

We both step out of the bath and dry off, the water and soap mostly dry already but our legs both still damp from her pee. 

I make it to the bedroom just before her and drop down on my stomach.

"Uh uh. It's too late for that." She smacks my ass again and starts to roll me over. By the time I'm on my back she's already on top of me. Her vagina still wet and ready, my cock still hard and waiting.

I reach down and grab myself. She's hovering over me. I rub myself against her, front to back. Slap myself gently against her clit. She loves this. Then I slide back, line up with her, and push just barely inside of her.

She's all ready to go and doesn't want to take it slow. As soon as the tip of my cock is in her she slams down onto me. We both moan and cry out. She kicks her legs out behind her, lowers her chest to mine, and starts kissing my neck.

Although she's clearly in a more dominant mood tonight, I can't help but run my hands down her back all the way to her ass. I grab a handful and squeeze as she is bucking up and down on top of me.

"Is this what you wanted?" she asks. "You wanted to fill me up with your hard cock. Oh you feel so good inside of me!"

I smack her ass twice.

"Hey! I said you couldn't do that!"

"You liked it." I slide one hand up to her head and bring her forward to kiss me again. The other stays on her back and pulls her tightly against my body. This also drives her crazy. She loves feeling close during sex, and holding her, pressing her against me always gets her off fast. 

I'm already so close from the fondling in the bath, and the play afterward. It was the first time we had done anything like that. And it wouldn't be our only first tonight.

She can't keep quiet. She's moaning into my mouth, her tongue shoving into me. We're both getting closer and closer.

"Your pussy feels so good on my cock. I love filling you up!"

"Are you going to cum inside of me? Fill me up with your hot, sticky cum."

I tried kissing her again but she pulled away and screamed softly. She has always been a little self conscious about how vocal she is, despite me telling her how much I love it. I pulled her even tighter, one hand on her back, one on her ass, shoving my cock inside her as she hit her orgasm. Her first of the night. 

Her voice trailed off as she came down from it. She reached down and kissed me. "That was so hot. Now it's your turn."

"Oh baby I'm so close already."

She reaches back and grabs both my hands, pinning them against the pillow above my head. We really should get some ropes.

She rides me slowly. She kisses me, forcing her tongue into my mouth again.

As she picks up the pace a little, she whispers into my ear. "Did you like that in the shower? Did you like me peeing all over your cock? I could feel you getting harder as it ran down your balls and down your legs. You loved it."

She knows I love dirty talk, and as she's speaking to me I get right up to the edge. "Come inside of me! Fill me up!"

That pushes me over. I start spurting cum deep inside of her. She stops pulling in and out, slamming herself down onto me so I am as deep as I can go. Filling her up with my cock and with my cum. "Ohhh. You feel so good. I love being inside of you."

I try to free my hands so I can kiss her but she'll have nothing to do with that. She looks down at me and smiles. She brings her mouth close to mine, but every time I pull up to kiss her she pulls her lips away from me.

"I hate pulling off of you."

"Then don't."

"But I have a surprise for you..."

"Oh? What kind of surprise?"

She doesn't say anything in response. She pulls slowly off me of. We both savor every inch and give a little sigh in unison when I slide out of her, still a little hard. 

She continues to hold down my hands and scoots up my body so she is almost sitting on my chest.

"Are you ready for this?"

She hovers just in front of my face. My hands held down above my head. Her pussy is wet with sex - both hers and mine.

"Because you're getting it, whether you are ready. Or not." She looks down into my eyes and smiled.

I lick my lips. She brings herself forward just a little more so she is right on top of my face. I moan, then hesitantly stick my tongue out and lick her clit. She goes wild and screams again.

This is something I've wanted. Something I've asked for. But after climaxing all the desire fades away. We always dirty talk about her holding me down and climbing up on my face. But she knows I get hesitant about it and doesn't want to do something I don't want, despite reassuring her otherwise.

Tonight though, her pussy is right there over my mouth. Covered in my cum and her cum. It smells like sex. It's soaking wet. Engorged. Slightly open. 

I lick at her clit, then as I'm getting turned on again I get bolder. I kiss at the front of her pussy and close my lips on her. I suck on her clit lightly and flick my tongue against it. She's getting so turned on again.

"Stick your tongue inside of me baby. I love it when you do that!"

Encouraged by her dirty talk, I lick from her clit all the way back. She is so wet... then I do it. I shove my tongue up into her dirty, cum filled pussy. 

She screams and moans as she starts to cum again, and I moan right back into her.



Maybe



My eyes were drifting close, and I was fighting sleep when I heard you at the door. The soft pillow and the warm thick blanket kept me comfortable and more than a little drowsy, as I threw the blanket back and stepped naked but for my panties into the cool air of the room, I shivered. I walked to the door to let you in, and then hurried back under the warmth of the blanket, and then smiles as I considered that very soon now you'd have me so hot I would not notice the cool of the room. 

You walked in and turned off the light, plunging the room into total darkness, and I consider telling you to turn it back on, I really like watching you move over me, I like watching you move my body, but I figure my eyes will adjust to the darkness soon enough and I'll be able to see what I really need to see.

You walk toward the bed after dropping your clothes on the chair, and I shiver in anticipation. I can feel the smile spread across my face, my pussy is already dripping, and all you've done is walk towards me. You move over me, covering me, but when I move to wrap my legs around you, ready to feel you inside of me, you roll so that you are lying beside me.

You put your arm around me and lay your head against the pillow that I'd just recently been drifting to sleep on, and you look content, peaceful, not at all like the predatory look you'd had when you walked towards the bed. My hips rotate, almost of their own accord, and I almost regret taking the moment of peace away, but my body wants more. I want to feel your body move against mine, I want to feel your breathe in my ear, I want to feel your hands slide across my body. I want to fuck you.

You sit up and lean against the headboard, and I turn so that my head is on your lap. I wrap my fingers around your dick and slowly rub my tongue across just the tip of you, before I take more of you into my mouth. Your hand drifts to my hair, guiding my head, pushing me gently down farther onto your dick and I feel it slide down my throat. I still haven't quite conquered my gag reflex, but I try harder. "That's it, open wider, yes, just like that," your softly spoken words encourage me; give me the inspiration to continue. I want to please you; I want to make you feel as good as you make me feel. I take the words as praise and encouragement and continue sliding your dick farther and farther into my mouth. 

"You like having that fat dick in your mouth, don't you?" you taunt me as you slide your fingers deep into my pussy, and rub against my clit until I'm almost ready to cum, and you stop. Your words and your fingers get me so hot, so very close to orgasm, and then you stop again, teasing me, taunting me, controlling me. 

"How long are you going to tease me?" I whimper, as I slide your dick out of my mouth.

"All night long," you reply.

I lick your dick again, and again, I feel you begin to tease my clit, moving faster and faster as you whisper to me, "yes, suck my dick you slut," and just as I'm ready to cum, you stop again. I moan in rebellion around your dick, the feel your fingers slide through my slick, wet pussy and across to my ass. Your finger slides just barely into my ass, and you begin fucking my ass with your finger. I moan again around your dick, only this time it's pleasure. I thought for sure that you were going to let me come that time, but again, you stop just as I'm on the brink.

"I do like your dick in my mouth, but I really want it in my pussy, see, I'm all wet for you, see how wet you've made me? I need your fat dick in my pussy, Please let me?"

You lean back, so I jumped at the invitation to straddle you, and I sighed as I felt the hot, solid length of your dick against my pussy. I moan as I move just a little, rubbing my sopping wet pussy against your dick. I move my hand to guide your dick into me, but you hold my hips, not allowing me the freedom to stuff myself with your dick.

"What if I just fucked your ass and left you here, alone, for the rest of the night. What if I didn't let you have this dick in your pussy? Would that be mean?"

My breath caught, and my protest came out in a groan, "That would be very mean, I want to feel you inside of me, please, let me?"

"You little whore, you want my dick in your pussy, you'll have to beg for it," you say with a smirk on your face.

"Please," I whisper as I move your dick closer and closer, inch by inch close to my pussy.

"That's not good enough bitch, beg me."

"Please, fuck me," I finally manage to move just the tip of your dick against my wet, sloppy pussy, and I start to rub my fingers across my clit, wanting so badly the orgasm you've been teasing me so mercilessly with. 

But you grab my hand and pull it away, "No slut, you don't get to cum until I say you can, do you understand?"

I nod, and again try to move so that your dick is rubbing against my pussy, I want to feel you inside of me, stretching me, filling me up, and I remember you want me to beg. "Please, let me feel your fat dick inside my wet little pussy, feel how wet I am for you? You made me wet, please, let me cum, let me fuck you, please?" But you don't relent; you continue teasing me, moving closer, just to move away again, leaving me whimpering for more.

Your hand moves up from my hip to my throat, where you wrap your hand tightly around my throat where I'm just barely able to breathe. "Beg me whore, beg me to put my dick in you, come on, I can't hear you."

"Please, please fuck me, please I want your dick in my pussy, please," I gasp as your hand tightens around my neck and you let go of my hip and I slide down onto your dick. I cry out as I cum, I'm panting, gasping for breath as you release your hold on my neck.

"That's right, cum all over my dick you slut," you growl as I still struggle to catch my breath and my pussy spasms around your dick. 

"You know, I told my friends what a hot little fuck you are, and they want to try you out, you'd do that for me wouldn't you? You'd let my friends fuck your tight little pussy, wouldn't you? Of course you may not have a choice, I told them that I'd blind fold you, so you'd never know more than how big their dicks were as they fucked your little pussy 'till it was raw. You'd do that for me, wouldn't you?"

I pushed up against your chest and start moving against you, riding you, listening as your words both aroused and scared me, scared you are serious and excited you might be, all at the same time. "Maybe," I reply.

SMACK, your hand lands hard on my ass, and I cry out from the sting and the shock of it. "What did you say?"

"Maybe," I say again a little less sure this time.

SMACK, again your hand comes down hard on my ass, "I don't think so, you'll do it because I tell you to whore, you'll fuck my friends and you'll enjoy every second of it. SMACK. "You'll beg for them to fuck you just like you begged me, you'll ask for more even when your pussy is raw and abused, you'll do that for me." SMACK.

The last smack of your hand on my ass sent me over the edge, I cried out and let the orgasm race through my body. As my heart rate returned to normal, I raised my head, drowsily opened my eyes, and smiled I whispered, "Maybe." 



Maybe!



Her writing has had a profound impact on my pleasure. Almost everyday I look for a new creation from her. I know most days there won't be one but I harden with anticipation anyway. I read her older stories and search for the pieces that might reveal her. She has told me they are real so I must wonder if she is a part of them. She has become my sexual muse.

She has taken me along so perfectly. Her stories are like prose. She elicits a special response as I read along stroking myself. It is so much smoother and lubricating than usual. And the stiffness of my cock is like never experienced before. It is fatter and longer; stone hard. It pulses with life, the head literally swelling and contracting as I read. The large veins are obvious of course but I can see the small ones bursting from below the surface as well. It is as if I have a cock ring on but I don't. It is the power of her craft, her spell. 

Many days when I awaken in the morning, I recall a segment or phrase from her creations. I get hard in bed and start squeezing myself slowly; wondering about her. Her writing has taken me to another place, no longer responding to the writer but to the woman. God, she's so passionate! What does she look like, smell like, taste like? I want to know! She tells me she is happy that I cum hard from her writing but would she like my cum? Would she like to feel it in her hands, in her mouth, on her breasts, dripping in her pussy or elsewhere? Maybe she would! I think about it and I wonder. I wonder if I should feel guilty about such cyber-lust. Am I twisted in some way because I now think about her instead of her writing. I think not. I have no idea what she looks like but I want her to fuck me! Yes, take me and fuck me any way she wants. 

If we ever met would she want to fuck me? Maybe!

Maybe we would meet but agree in advance to pretend as though we had never spoken. It would be in the bar of a 5 star hotel and we would get comfortable with one another over wine. Maybe it wouldn't feel right to one of us and we would separate before exploring further. Maybe she would be wearing a slim fitting dress, her breasts dying to be liberated from beneath. Her legs would slide between the slit up the side. "Are you alone?", she would ask. I would simply smile and gesture for her to take the seat; my cock growing under the table. She would seat herself with legs crossed one over the other, her lips perfectly addressing the wine in her glass. She might start gently moving her leg up and down to the benefit of her steamy V, while I dreamed of parting her sweet womanhood with my tongue. In the midst of polite conversation her hand would disappear below the table then return with two dripping fingers. Without any hesitation in the flow of our discourse she would smoothly and efficiently rub her juice around the rim of my glass. Staring into her eyes, cock pounding, I would take the glass and lick her from the rim; hoping so much to get it all before it dried. "How's that vintage?" she would ask.

"Exquisite indeed! Wouldn't you agree?" 

"The absolute finest!" 

Maybe then I would stand and offer her my arm. We would walk to the elevator together. Amidst the luxurious scene she would lean into me and whisper, "I'm glad you like it. I hope you'll have more!" The elevator door would close and I would fall to my knees. She would lift her dress and pull me into her, neither of us thinking the elevator might stop for other passengers. I would bury my tongue inside her as she lifted herself up and down on her toes. The sloppy sucking sounds would drive both of us on. And the long weekend of pleasure would begin in earnest. Maybe!

Maybe it would be a coffee shop. She would be seated in the corner reading a magazine. I would know it was her just by the scene. She would look at me with no overt signal but I would know to go to her. "Hi! It's nice to see you!", I would offer. She might respond in kind and get up to greet me. Maybe we would kiss briefly. Maybe it would last longer and grow deeper. While we spoke and drank our coffee, my mind would flash pictures of me offering to her from behind. I would light her cigarette and as she exhaled I would imagine her taking me into her luscious lips.

Maybe we would exit quietly and she would pull me into a secluded spot off the avenue where I would finally enter her. Pressing her against a building wall, she would beg me to fuck--fuck, fuck, fuck like animals; and we would. And after going at it a while, her juice would be dripping down my balls. Then I would beg to fuck her rim. "Oh god yes, fuck it, fuck it hard!". We would re-position and she would guide me into her most private spot, my cock dripping with our output. She would receive full length pleasure, while spanking her pussy all the while. It wouldn't last long but the intensity created would carry us to maximum release. Could it happen? Would she even want such a thing? Maybe!

Maybe I would meet her at a quiet piano bar and she would have a friend. They would be chatting--tight jeans and tank tops. Their interaction would tell that they were more than friends. I would watch for a few minutes before revealing myself. Maybe their conversation would include a gentle kiss between them, their breasts brushing in the process. Maybe they would only exchange gentle touches on the hand as their nipples hardened. Maybe then I would approach.

"Well, I made it!", I would announce. Both would immediately notice the bulge in my jeans as they sized me up. I would take in everything about them but would be overwhelmed by the brightness in their eyes and their seemingly permanently moist lips. 

My muse in her mid-thirties, her friend as many as 10 years her senior. Beneath her friend's straps would reside an old fashioned pair of torpedo tits with missile nipples but I wouldn't discover that until later. Both of their lips would be perfectly outlined with a color slightly darker than their pastel, pink, lip-cream.

"So what do you like?" she would ask.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean sex! What do you like?" Her friend would smile widely at the exchange. "BDSM, straight sex, anal, oral, tits, blow jobs; what?"

It would all be such a surprise. I would not have expected her friend nor the scene of them together. I would be more than anxious to experience them both but would it diminish my time with her? Maybe or maybe it would enhance it. Maybe my response would be "All of the above!" Maybe I would ask, "What are you suggesting?"

"We're gonna fuck your brains out Sam! Together, each alone and maybe with another girlfriend or two; we're gonna have a fuckfest." 

Maybe we would retire to an apartment not far from the bar where it would begin with sumptuous kisses, deep into our mouths, exchanging smoothly with each other while pausing to watch when not engaged. I would want to be with her but she would tease me and lead me to her friend. Finally pushing me down in a chair she would stand over me as her friend became her lover; pulling her top off from behind. She would know how much I love breasts. The spot in my underwear would turn to a puddle as I would watch them squeeze each other's wonderful tits. Oh god, it would be excruciating to sit and watch.

Maybe after getting involved myself she would want to mount me. Yes, she would mount me from behind with a double-dildo, strap-on and I with my cock buried deep into party three. It would start slow and deep, before the pounding would become relentless. I would hope for her to cum first but I might wish to suck the cum of her lover while still taking a pounding from her. Maybe I would pull out and delicately outline those missile nipples with my equine sized load, as if I were a patisserie chef. Maybe she would cum shortly thereafter and pull out of me only to rub her breasts gently through my creation. With my cum reflecting from both sets of tits they would begin to savor what they had produced. The sight would send me over the edge. Such sensuality and intimacy! I would beg to suck their dripping slits and they would be more than happy to oblige as they shared the dildo end from her. 

Would I even go for such an experience? Maybe!

Maybe it would be in an elevator where we met. Her in a business suite, wire glasses, hair neatly placed. We would get on together and move to the back as others entered. She would take my hand and whisper, "It's me!" My cock would turn to marble immediately. I would begin to rub her backside beneath her skirt, her slit heating more each second. She would slide in a finger and give me a taste. Finally, we would step out and go into her office. "Hold all my calls." Her admin would smile and nod. Maybe we would fuck through a half dozen condoms before lunch, then drink champaign afterwards. Maybe. Maybe I would deposit streams of cum in every spot desired and beg for an evening of the same. Maybe!

For now I must wonder, hope and enjoy the special experience my muse creates. My convulsive orgasms make me explode like a pent up animal. My cum is not only profuse it is thick. It shoots out in multiple spasms as my balls contract. I cum no longer for her craft or her characters. I cum for her. Maybe she'll experience it herself someday. Maybe! 



Maybe...



"Damn car," Laina thought as she stood waiting for the bus. "Figures that it wouldn't start today of all days." Her day seemed to have been one disaster after another, and then she'd come out of work just after 9 to find her car wouldn't start. Of course she'd had to stay late to finish a report on a night when her best friend was out of town and unable to pick her up. Thankfully, there was a bus stop just down the street so she'd decided just to take the bus home.

Now here she was, standing in the cool air as the sun slowly dropped below the horizon, waiting for the bus. Her briefcase slung over her shoulder, she reached up to knead the back of her neck. The headache forming was causing a dull ache in her neck and shoulders.

Jake watched her from the bench about 20 feet away. His eyes roamed over her body, over every curve. As she reached up to rub her neck, brushing her shoulder-length black hair aside, the strap of her briefcase caused her light blue button-down shirt to pull taut across her ample breasts. It made him wonder just what a man would find under her proper business wear. Her black skirt hugged her hips and ass perfectly before flowing down to stop just above her knees. The four inch black heels and sheer black stockings completed her professional look, but also gave him the feeling that she had a bit of a wild side.

They worked together and were more acquaintances than true friends. They always smiled at each other in the hall, flirted often. They both knew the attraction was there, but neither had acted upon it yet. They'd had some interesting conversations during happy hour get togethers. One of those discussions came to mind now. They'd all had a bit too much to drink and Laina, Jake and another female coworker decided to play truth or dare. Jake recalled that on one truthful round, Laina has confessed her desire to be submissive to a man. Then realizing what she'd said, she blushed and excused herself to the ladies room. Jake had been active in the D/s lifestyle for many years, so his interest was piqued. But after that night, he hadn't found a way to get close enough to Laina to press her on the subject.

As he discreetly watched her, Laina pulled out her cell phone and checked the time again. Jake heard her frustrated sigh as he stood and walked closer to her. "Laina," he said.

Laina jolted a bit at the sound of his voice. She hadn't realized anyone else was around. "Hi," she said softly as she turned. She found herself smiling as she looked over and recognized Jake as the owner of the voice. He was a rather handsome man who she judged to be about her own age, with dark hair and even darker eyes. He was dressed in tight jeans and a plain white t-shirt that clearly showed he kept in shape.

Jake felt her give him the once-over, and waited until her bright blue eyes met his again before speaking. "You seem distressed, Laina. Everything okay?"

"Oh, well, yes. I'm just waiting for the bus, and it seems like I've been waiting forever.

"You're going to be waiting a lot longer." Seeing her confusion, he continued, "The bus doesn't stop here again for about another hour since it's after 9."

"Oh for crying out loud. Could this day get any worse?" she complained. Laina saw Jake raise an eyebrow and grin.

"I live just across the street there," Jake told her, pointing at the apartment building across the street. "If you'd like to come and wait there until a ride can come for you or until the next bus comes. Or I could take you home. It really isn't a good idea for you to stay out here alone."

"I could just go back to my office," Laina said quickly, suddenly a bit nervous from the intense way Jake looked at her. She felt a flutter in her stomach though she couldn't determine quite why.

"Don't be silly," Jake said. "Come have a glass of wine and we can just chat for a bit while you wait."

Laina hesitated. She had never been very daring, but she knew Jake was nice enough and getting to know him better was certainly more exciting than going back to her desk. But she hesitated ...

As if reading her thoughts, Jake smiled and said, "I promise I won't bite ... unless you ask nicely." He ended the statement with a laugh, making Laina wonder if he was joking but somehow she sensed truth in that statement.

Laina couldn't help but smile. "I'd like to take you up on that offer I think. Thank you."

She followed him across the street and up the stairs to a second-floor apartment. They made small talk as they walked. Laina thought about how nice he was, how she'd always wanted to get to know him better, yet a small nagging voice in her head kept telling her there was more to him than she really saw.

Jake unlocked the door of his apartment, pushed it open and stepped aside to let Laina in. He intentionally brushed against her body as she passed.

"This is very nice of you," Laina started as she set her briefcase down just inside the door. Her next thought didn't even get past her lips. Before she could react, Jake had spun her, leaned in close and pinned her against the back of the door with his own body.

His lips paused only a breath away from hers. "Laina, it's your choice. I want you. I want to show you things you haven't experienced, things you long for, but it has to be your choice." He could feel her tremble beneath the weight of his body. The nod was almost imperceptible. "Laina, you have to say it. I need to hear the words to be sure."

"Yes please," she whispered breathlessly. 

Laina gasped as his lips brushed hers softly and then pulled away. Taking her hand Jake led her toward the couch, gesturing for her to sit. Turning, she looked up at him as he stepped in front of her. She was visibly shaking, her mind and heart racing as she tried to think of what might happen next.

He sat beside her, letting one hand rest on her thigh. The other hand lifted to her neck, guiding her lips to his. He kissed her until the room spun around her. Her cheeks flushed and her breathing grew ragged. He pulled away and simply looked into her eyes for a few moments. She felt as if he could see her soul.

Laina watched Jake move to a small chest near the end table. Her eyes widen as he opened it and pulled a long length of rope from it. "I'd like to bind you Laina. I know this is new and you're probably a bit scared even though you're excited. Do you trust me?" 

Laina paused, seriously considering, and she realized that she did indeed trust him, much more than she thought she would trust anyone else. "i'd like that. i'd like to try it. i do trust You," she said softly.

Smiling, he then took hold of her wrists - his hands were large and he could easily hold both of her wrists in his grip. He wrapped the rope several times around her wrists, knotting and securing them together, then tied the other end to the overhead hook in the ceiling that Laina imagined was originally meant to hang plants from. With her hands tied above her like that, she was barely sitting on the seat and was stretched, though not uncomfortably.

Jake leaned over Laina and undid her blouse, revealing her creamy breasts just barely covered by a black lacy bra. She tested the bindings just a bit as he lifted her hips and pulled off her skirt. He grinned when he saw matching black panties and the lacy tops of her thigh highs. Jake looked at Laina. "You don't wear pretty underwear and sexy stockings like these unless you're hoping someone will see it Laina." When she blushed and tried to look away, he laughed. "Good girl," He whispered and she felt her heart skip a beat. 

When Jake pulled a knife out of his jeans pocket and flicked it open, Laina's eyes went wide and he could clearly see her mild fear of the unknown turn to panic. He watched her try to pull a bit at the cord holding her wrists. He brushed his empty hand over her cheek. "Shhh, little one. I won't hurt you." He felt her relax just a bit as she nodded.

Her eyes closed and she barely breathed as Jake pressed the cool steel blade between her breasts. He cut her bra off of her and heard her release of breath when he set the knife aside.

Laina's nipples stiffened at the exposure to the cool air, and he reached out, cupping a breast in each hand and gently rolling her nipples between thumb and forefinger. Jake gradually pinched her nipples harder and harder until she was biting down hard on her bottom lip in an effort not to cry out. Still pinching Laina's left nipple, Jake bent down and began sucking and biting on the right nipple, increasing the pain level until he could hear her groaning though clenched teeth. He stopped suddenly and knelt back, and Laina gasped with relief.

"So, did you like that?" he asked. 

Laina quickly, breathlessly, replied "i ... i don't know."

Jake reached out, pushed her legs apart, pulled her panties aside, and traced a finger up and down her cunt lips. He grinned widely, and said "I think you know Laina. I think you wanted this to happen, you've been just waiting for some man to recognize what you need ...your cunt is very, very wet, you can't disguise that fact."

He worked his finger up and down, over her inner and outer folds, coating his finger in her juices, which he then held up to Laina's lips. "Go on, taste it," Jake ordered, pinching a nipple with his other hand. Tentatively she poked her tongue out and flicked it over his finger once, her cheeks flushing bright pink in embarrassment. Jake slid his finger between her lips and said "Suck it, little one."

Laina whimpered and began to suck on his finger gently, cleaning it of her own juices. "Good girl. Now, hmmm..." Jake said as he sat of the coffee table and looked at the beautiful, willing girl before him. He grabbed the knife again and, leaning close, whispered in Laina's ear, "Stay still doll."

Laina held her breath as Jake cut her panties off. She then gasped loudly in shock as Jake pressed two fingers into her exposed cunt, circling her clit which rapidly became quite hard with his thumb. Jake began to slide his fingers in and out of her tight pussy hard and fast, while she moaned. Then, she felt her own body betray her, craving release even as her mind told her she shouldn't enjoy being so open and vulnerable ... she began to stiffen and shudder, letting out a low groan of pleasure. "Cum," He whispered so close to her ear that Laina felt the warmth of his breath on her neck. Laina's hot juices covered his hand as she came for him.

"See? You're having so much fun! Tell me you're a slut," Jake whispered to Laina. She shook her head no. "Tell me" he coaxed.

"I'm a slut," Laina whimpered. 

"Whose slut?" Jake asked as he stood and moved a little away from her. 

"Y...Your slut," she said on a moan.

"Such a good girl. Now it's my turn," Jake said. He unbuckled his belt, and slid his jeans down, taking out his very hard cock, which was by now aching incredibly for some action. Laina couldn't help but stare at his cock. Laina hadn't been with many men, but Jake's cock was bigger than any she'd had before. She tried to deny to herself that she wanted to feel him inside her.

Jake wrapped a hand in Laina's hair, pulling her head back gently as he stepped close to her. His hand tightened until she looked up at him. "Would you like to suck My cock Laina?" She blushed profusely, refusing to answer, yet she smiled. "Oh sweetie, I know you do. You don't have to say it. Now open," Jake said.

Laina part her lips and tentatively wrapped them around the head of Jake's cock as he pushed her head forward. She opened her small mouth wide as Jake used her hair to control her movements. Soon he was fucking her mouth, occasionally making her softly gag as he pressed his cock deeper into her throat. Laina moaned and her tongue began lapping at Jake's cock.

As much as he was enjoying having Laina suck his cock, Jake pulled her off him, knowing he had much more in store for her. He laughed when she almost pouted as he took his cock away from her.

Jake positioned himself between Laina's legs. She tensed as Jake took hold of her around her waist. Jake began to suck and bite at Laina's nipples and breasts as he pushed his cock slowly inside her. Her tied position and wetness made it easy for him to slide in, and he moaned deeply, holding still, inside her all the way feeling how incredibly hot she was. 

Laina bit down again on her lip as she tried not to think about how wanton she seemed, but was unable to ignore her own need and desire as Jake began thrusting inside her, grinding into her, enjoying the feel of his entire cock enveloped in her hot, tight flesh. Jake looked up and saw Laina's head fall back, her chest heaving from her ragged breathing.

Much to Laina's surprise, Jake pulled out of her. Before she could stop herself she whimpered at the sudden emptiness. Then, grinning, Jake pressed back into her, making her groan deeply.

Laina could hard breathe. The feeling of having her cunt filled was driving her wild. Jake leaned up close against her ear again, and whispered, "Just let go. Don't fight it. You're safe."

He began to fuck her, thrusting in and out only a little way at first. Reaching between them, he gently circled his fingers over her hard clit, and as his thrusting increased speed, so did the rubbing on her clit. The sensation was incredible - for both of them. Laina's own muscles began clenching around him as Jake pushed her over the edge to her to her second orgasm. 

She was quite worn out now and hung almost limply from her bonds, but Jake held her tight and kept fucking her harder and harder until he could stand it no longer, thrusting deeply into her one last time and emptying himself inside her causing another cry of release to flow from her lips.

He withdrew, cock softening, and slowly pulled away, watching Laina as he did. He untied her, and she collapsed back onto the sofa. Jake covered her with a soft blanket and sat on the coffee table waiting for her reaction, a hand on her leg, gently caressing but otherwise giving her space. He was stunned when she looked up at him, smiled, and whispered "Thank you."

"For the blanket?" Jake asked. 

"No, for giving me what i've been waiting for," Laina laughed. Glancing at the clock on the wall, then back at Jake, Laina said, "I think I missed the next bus too."

"Maybe you should just stay here tonight," Jake said.

"Maybe I should," Laina answered...



Maybe...



Maybe.....

She was driving to see him, her bag of toys sitting in the car seat beside her. She never knew what the night had in store for her. However, she knew one thing...he would be inside her, deep inside her, more than once before the morning came.

The toys stimulated her imagination..knowing they were there..to be used on her. He was masterful with them, his insistence, his coaching, and his lust all fed her growing need and interest in all that might be possible.

What could be possible? What might happen? 

Maybe she'd get there...walk in the house and find him waiting for her in the bedroom. Each corner of the bed would have a silk tie...long enough to entwine her limbs and secure her to the bed. His command would echo from the back of the house...Here! Now!

The sound of her high heels on the tile, coming down the hall, would make him hard. She knew what he would like, so before getting to the door of the bedroom she would peal of her sweater and skirt, leaving her only in thigh high stockings, high heels, and nothing else. Pausing at the door, she would wait to hear his voice...Now! Here! Face down!

Entering the room, she'd hear his breath catch as he looked at her from across the bed. Their eyes would meet, fiery and direct. She'd crawl across the bed on all fours, her ass shifting from side to side, until she was right in front of him, his naked cock large and red.

She'd look at him, waiting for permission to take him in her mouth. "Come closer", he would say. "Suck me now ...now! Her lips would reach for the tip of his cock, sucking so it would slide into her wet soft mouth. "More! Deeper! Suck it into your throat – all the way" 

Opening her throat, she willing takes him deep..longing to satisfy her own need to have him inside her. She moans with her ache for him. The evening just beginning.

"On your back! Let me have those wrists"..........

Slowly she pulls her lips away from his full cock..sorry to be doing so, but excited to respond to his command, excited to be his slave.

She rolls back across her round cheeks, her knees in the air so he can catch a glimpse of her wet, slick pussy. She may be responding to his commands, but she knows exactly how to move to drive him crazy. He can hardly keep himself from throwing her back against the pillows and spreading her wide so he can dive into her with his cock..but wait he will, wanting to get her positioned so he can have complete control, just as she wants.

She finally lays back, spreading her legs as her hands reach down to gently pull at her lush pussy lips. She wants his mouth there, more than anything. His large hands reach out and grab her wrists. Taking one he pulls it over her head, her small breasts lifting with the tug. The other as well, gets tied securely to the bed, her breasts and mouth completely at his disposal, all of her in fact, as her hands are now captured in the silk ties, He leaves her legs free for now, knowing she won't kick or fight him. She wants him too much.

He wraps his large hands around her two wrists and slides them down her shapely arms, engulfing her breasts, squeezing them, His fingers find her brown, prominent nipples and he begins pulling on them, slowly at first, turning them as he pulls, Her nipples are highly sensitive...the button-like nubs love to be sucked and squeezed. Each caress sends currents of excitement right to her clit, He hears her moan with each touch of his tongue as his mouth surrounds her nipples one at a time. Can he make her wait? It doesn't feel like it. His full cock begins to ache to be inside her.

His face comes close to hers.."Kiss me hard", he says. Kissing him is a wild ride of lips and tongue, wet and full...licking and sucking at her, melding her lips and tongue into his own. There is a desperation in their kiss as they each can feel the building force of their desire...their need,

He straddles her then...sitting on her hips..his big cock pointing right at her face, He begins to touch himself. "I'm going to come all over your face", he said. "Would you like that?" Her small voice says, "Yes, Michael."



...Maybe I Just Imagined It



At first she thought his touch was accidental, for who actually does get groped on their way home from work? But when he'd closed a palm around her butt and cupped a cheek, she almost yelped in shock at how unexpected it was. Thinking back now, she should have said something immediately. Surrounded by people on the train, she would have had ample support, but instead she had glanced back in shock, taken one look into his dark eyes and then hung her head to hide her burning cheeks as she shuffled away through the press.

She hadn't gotten far, hemmed in as she was and her only exit cut off when he stepped closer, blocking her escape. Her eyes darted everywhere looking for aid but as was typical in the city, everyone was occupied either by their own thoughts or by folded newspapers clutched at weird angles in the crowd. She felt trapped, suddenly claustrophobic as his body lined itself against her.

For a minute she felt nothing, but then out of nowhere the hem of her dress tugged, and his fingers lightly touched her thigh.

Instinctively she reached back, batting his hand away, but he simply pressed it back, his digits stroking her skin.

She wanted to call out, but inside she quailed, unable to fully get to grips with what was happening, furthermore there was an uncomfortable feeling in her stomach that she understood to be pleasure. At first pushing his hands away was enough to keep him from doing anything more than running his hands along her thighs, but he became more persistent in his exploration and slowly his hands made their way upwards, so that he could stroke her arse beneath the thin knickers she wore. She tried clutching his wrist and forcing his hands away, then she gripped the hem of her skirt and tried vainly to hold it in place. But always he thrust her hands away like they were moths brushing against him annoyingly and continued as if nothing had happened. Now she felt his other hand on her waist, pulling her to him and she desperately fought to get away.

The train lurched on its track and she collided with the man in front who glanced back angrily before returning to tapping away on his phone and she almost keened in despair. Never before had she been so crowded by people but so utterly alone. It was unbelievable to think that nobody had caught her eye and seen the plea concealed behind.

Despite her silent protests, her efforts to stop him were futile. She resigned herself to clutching desperately at his wrists while he did as he wished and hoping desperately for her stop to arrive. When the train pulled into the next platform she seized the opportunity to get away when a group of passengers exited. She couldn't get off but with any luck she could find a spot further away, but unbelievably the space was replaced almost immediately by more people, as ignorant and unhelpful as the last. Regardless of her best efforts she was pushed back towards him, the cramped space in the carriage suddenly more oppressive than ever.

He had really only been toying with her before, but as the stations between hers ticked steadily away, her resistance crumbled. It was impossible to defend all possible fronts, for when his fingers had found the slight parting of her thighs where they have way to her buttocks, and forced themselves between her tightly clamped legs, her reflex at pushing away his arms left her front completely unguarded. In an instant he adapted to the situation, whipping his arms round her and grasping roughly at the soft mound between her legs. Once more she grabbed his wrists but his fingers clawed at her, an index digging beneath the elastic of her underwear, the nail pinching her clit painfully.

When she finally succeeding in dragging his hands from her pants, he merely forced her against the vertical handhold and ground himself against her.

Then she felt it. Somehow, at some point, he must have taken 'it' out, for she felt it's heavy weight almost 'thwack' against the back of her thigh, and hold there, hard against her. She felt too how, when first slapping against her, a strange sensation was left on her skin, that now it cooled she understood to be a wet 'something'.

All of a sudden, the cry of some completely unknown emotions, that which had built in her for so long burst from her in a startling 'nnnuuhnn' sound, which wasn't completely covered by the bell of the doors opening at her station. As people immediately made for the door, glancing back with minimal interest at the strange girl who just screamed 'nnnuuhnn', she tugged to be free and suddenly found that he was no longer holding her. Not caring to look back to see if he had casually assumed a vacant expression like the rest of the passengers, nor even considering to turn and scream her accusations, she tore from the carriage, not caring about the disgruntled cries from the people she had barged.



Maybe I Should Tell Him



Copyright © 2004, by Delia Green. All rights reserved. No distribution in any form is permitted without written permission from the author.

[Author's Note:

My second story on this Web site, as some of you no doubt observed, was a continuation of the adventures of the married woman named Angie, who had the lead role in "Married Woman Dates," (accidentally also titled "Angie Dates Charles").]

PART ONE

I realize that it's only a matter of time before Kevin discovers that I haven't been completely faithful to him. What makes it worse is that he's that rare breed of man who has never cheated on his wife—as far as I know. It would be so much easier to tell him about my indiscretions if he had some of his own. Damn! I fantasize about him messing around. In fact, I fantasize about him doing it with my friend Charlotte. But that's not going to happen. He despises her. He thinks she's a bad influence on me. But he's wrong about that. Charlotte didn't ask me to go bar hopping with her. That was all my idea. In fact, she tried to talk me out of it. Not real hard. But she did try. And Charlotte didn't get me to dance with strangers. I love dancing, and Kevin's not into it at all, so I don't need anyone to twist my arm when there's someone around to dance with—whether I know them or not. And as far as what happened after she left me there at the Car Barn, by myself—well, that's just the point: I was by myself. Charlotte didn't corrupt me. I took care of that all by myself. 

I was raised to believe that married women only have sex with their husbands. My mother also warned me that men—even married men--often jump in bed with any available "piece of ass," but she didn't prepare me for the possibility that I might be similarly inclined. Now, I'm not saying I'd jump in bed with any available piece of male ass, but I have to say that there are plenty of men who, under the right circumstances, can make me hot enough to … misbehave. 

Lately I've been thinking about telling Kevin that I've cheated on him, not out of a sense of guilt, but because if he finds out from someone else, he'll be devastated. Charlotte thinks it's a mistake to tell him. She thinks he's going to be devastated no matter whether he hears it from me or from someone else.

"He won't be able to handle it. I know men like him. He's not going to take it well. Has he ever fooled around on you?"

"Never."

"That's what I thought."

"I still think I should tell him before someone else does."

"Angie, hold off on this. Maybe there's something I can do."

I laughed. "If you're thinking what I think you're thinking, forget it."

"What do you think I'm thinking?"

"Never mind. What's your idea?"

"No, tell me. What were you going to say?"

I laughed again. "Sometimes, I think about Kevin …and you! But, it would never work."

"You're right. He's not exactly my strongest supporter. I think we both know that. But I don't know why. I've never done anything to him."

"He just thinks you're a tramp. He always has. It goes all the way back to the first time he met you."

"At that pool party?"

"So, you remember it?"

"Sure, I was anxious to meet the man you were so in love with. I remember that much. But I don't remember anything I did or said that would have given him a reason to think I was a'tramp' as you so nicely put it."

"Do you remember what you wore?"

"No. A bikini, probably. Why?"

"Well, he remembers. It was a black string bikini."

Charlotte laughed. "Oh, my God! You're kidding me. He remembers what I was wearing that day?"

"Apparently, it made a big impression on him. A big negative impression."

"He said that to you?"

" ‘Any girl who would wear something like that to a family gathering has no respect for herself.' Those wore his exact words. He told me that he was surprised that I even had friends like you."

"What did you say?"

"We had a big fight."

"You've never told me this."

"What was the point? He got over it, and besides I don't like some of his friends; there's no reason he has to like all of mine."

"Well, Angie, to tell you the truth it wasn't me I was thinking about hooking Kevin up with."

"Oh? Who then?"

"I can think of several candidates."

"Well, it doesn't matter. Kevin's not going to cheat on me."

"Wanna bet?"

"Almost."

"I'm going need your help to set something up. Are you in?'

"Charlotte, I don't think this is such a good idea."

"OK. You gotta better one? We'll just tell Kevin everything. Tell him just how hospitable you were to Charles Metzger and how you picked up a guy at a bar—a total stranger— brought him home with you, and fucked his brains out. In your own bed, no less. I'm sure that'll go over real big!"

"All right. All right. You're right. He's going to go nuts."

"You're damn right he is. So, give me a couple of days. OK? Promise me you won't say anything to him—for at least a week."

"All right, I promise."



PART TWO

It was five o'clock east coast time when I got the phone call.

"Kevin? Hi. It's Charles. Charles Metzger. Remember me?"

"Hi, Charles. Of course, I remember you. How ya been?"

"Great! Things couldn't be better. But listen, to make a long story short, how can I reach Angie, that woman you fixed me up with a couple of months ago? (see "Married Woman Dates") I'm having a big party in three weeks and I want to invite her."

"But you're in San Diego, aren't you?"

"Yeah, I am. So? Air fare's not that expensive, besides I've got a ton of frequent flyer miles I'll never use. I could send her a ticket."

"Well, I'll see if I can get in touch with her. But you know she's married, and …:

"Yeah, yeah. I know."

"… and it it's been a while since I …"

"Kevin, I knew I could count on you. Henry told me you were The Man."

"Hey, I'm not promising anything, Charles. But I'll see what I can do."

"Beautiful. That's all I'm asking. If I could get Angie out here for this party, it'd be the thrill of my life."

The thrill of your life, huh? Well that's one less thrill for you Charlie ol' boy. There was no way in hell I was going to make the same mistake again. Angie would never hear about this. There was no reason to tell her that … Charles wants her to fly her to San Diego… for what? To fuck her? No thanks.

I tried to put Charles Metzger out of my mind, but he was not going to go away easily. Several days later, at work, my phone rang. It was Diane, one of Henry's assistants.

"Kevin, Henry's been looking for you. Should I tell him you're back in the office?" 

"That's OK; I'll just walk down and see what's on his mind." 

It hit me, as I walked the length of the long, marble corridor. I hadn't gotten back to Charles and he must have said something to Henry. Shit.

Henry got up from behind his desk and put his arm around me. 

"Kevin, I got a call from Charles. He's doubled his order for next year. And, you know, if you hadn't come through like you did for us, I don't think it would have happened. I owe you, big time, my man."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, Charles is still raving about that woman you fixed him up with in August. And now he's flying her out to California to some shindig he's putting together, some sort of company anniversary."

"He told you that?"

"Yeah. In fact, he's mailing me the plane tickets for you to give her."

I just stood there, trying to digest this new development. A large lump had formed in my throat.

"Why doesn't he just mail them to her?" Henry asked.

"Beats me. I guess she didn't give him her address."

"Or her phone number," Henry added, looking at me as though I might be able to shed some light on the peculiarity of the whole arrangement.

"Don't look at me. I hardly know Ang—"I caught myself before I finished my wife's name. There was no need giving Henry any more information than he already had.

"Yeah, that's her. ANGIE! Charles did tell me her name, but I forgot it. I should have remembered though. Your wife's name is Angie too, isn't it?"

I congratulated him on his memory. Henry had never met Angie, but I'm sure here name must have come up a few times over the years. I started to excuse myself. But, Henry, his arm still around me, gave me a little shoulder squeeze and told me to let him know if I had any problem getting in touch with Angie. 

"The last thing we need to do is disappoint Ol' Charlie. I don't have to tell you, his purchase for next year is easily worth half a million dollars. Net."

"That much?"

"Easily. And that's not counting any referrals we're likely to get from becoming Charles's primary supplier in 2005. Hey, there's no way this Angie's going turn him down, is there?"

"I, uh, sure hope not," I told him.

The rest of the day was one big fog for me. I almost dreaded going home. 



"Is anything wrong, dear?" Angie asked me over dinner. 

"Just business. Just all the crazy bullshit that goes on at work," I told her, not really knowing what I was going to do about Henry's bombshell.

"You could use some time off, Honey. We could use some time off. What do you think? Doesn't that sound good?"

"It does. It really does," I told her.

"We should go somewhere where we can spend some quality time together," Angie replied, her voice getting all warm and honey-toned.

We went to bed earlier than usual that night. Angie managed to help me clear my head by giving me a full-body massage, rubbing oil and all. 

"No boxers. I don't want anything to get in the way of this massage," she told me, playfully.

Angie had me so relaxed—rubbing my neck, my back, as well as my feet and legs--that within about ten minutes I was almost asleep. Then I heard her say something. She was asking me turn over, onto my back. I glanced up. She had shed her nightgown and was standing there in her birthday suit, warming up a fresh pour of oil between her hands. There wasn't much light in our bedroom but I didn't need much to see the mischief in those pretty blue eyes.

"Don't go to sleep on me, Honey. Your massage isn't over yet," she said, delivering her open hands to my chest and stomach. 

I've never been to one of those so-called "massage parlors" my friends talk about, but they tell me that the girls there don't leave any part of your body untouched. That's the kind of massage I got from Angie that night. She ran her soft oily hands down my sides, up and down my legs, and back up to my chest, going out of her way to ignore my private parts—at first. Eventually, however, her warm little hands were all over my cock and my balls, sliding up and down me, fondling me.

"See, aren't you glad you stayed awake for this part?"

"Honey, there's no way I could ever slept through this!"

Angie giggled softly, admiring her handiwork. I was standing up tall and proud for her, and ready for anything she had in mind, which, as it turned out, was a ride on my cock. Greased up the way I was, she had no trouble positioning herself over me and then slowly dropping down onto me. Damn! Such sweet lubrication! Between the oil she had coated my dick with and her own natural juices, I was way up inside her instantly. And then she began moving. The sight of her bouncing up and down on me was--like they say at the end of those credit card commercials—priceless!

You know, ever since Angie had that "date" with Charles Metzger she's been as hot as hell in bed. I swear to God, it's like starring in your own porn movie.



PART THREE

I must have called Charlotte every day that week. No news. No good news, anyway. She had asked a couple of friends of hers who she thought might enjoy hooking up with an attractive married man for an afternoon or evening of fun--no strings attached—but no takers. Charlotte was not discouraged, though. 

"I haven't even heard from some of my hottest prospects yet, Angie. Trust me. This is gonna work."

I wanted it to work, although if you asked me why, you'd get very mixed signals. Sure, it would make my confession easier, knowing that Kevin would owe me one too. On the other hand, if Kevin was fucking another woman, I could take that as a green light to continue my own fun and games. 

I thought about my initiation into sin by Charles Metzger. I loved the two dates I had with him. I wouldn't mind showing him around town again—that is, if he ever showed up again. And then there was my pickup date, Owen. Hmmm. That was an insane night!

As much as I loved Kevin, I was willing to share him. I figured if I was willing to share him had to be willing to share me. That's reasonable, right? But, being a realist, I tried to steel myself for the more likely outcome of Charlotte's web: Kevin would not take the bait and I would just have to come out and tell him the awful truth.

PART FOUR

On Friday of that week, I had a very interesting visitor at work. The floor receptionist buzzed me. "Kevin, there's a woman here to see you. Were you expecting anyone?"

I wasn't, but I wasn't doing anything that couldn't be interrupted for five minutes, so I agreed to see who she was and what she wanted.

"Hi. I'm Meredith Cole. I heard you were considering expanding your unit and might be looking for help." 

Before me stood an extremely young woman I guessed to be no more than 21, if that. She looked like a model, in heels and a short business suit that featured an extra short skirt and an unbuttoned blazer open enough to reveal a silk blouse cut lower than is generally seen in an office setting.

"Excuse me. Where did you hear that I might be looking for help?" I tried to keep my eyes on her eyes, but her long, slender legs and that show of cleavage under her blazer made it difficult.


"Could I sit down, please?"

I apologized for not offering her a chair and showed the stunning brunette to the armchair at the side of my desk. I then closed the door and returned to my seat. She crossed her legs and treated my eyes to even more of her young stocking-covered legs. 

Before she could say anything else, I asked her again where she got the idea that I might be hiring.

"A friend of mine knows someone who works here. But I can't remember the name."

"Your friend told you I was hiring?"

"Yeah, she said you might be looking for someone on a temporary basis. To fill in for one of your people who might be going on vacation or something."

"On vacation? Did she tell you what kind of work this employee does?"

"General office work, you know, filing, answering phones, going to meetings, stuff like that." As she spoke she very matter-of-factly took off her blazer, as though making herself right at home. Very collected. Very mature for someone so young.

I glanced down at her chest. With her blazer off and her blouse cut as low as it was, her chest presented an invitation to my eyes that I was not able to pass up. She smiled, seemingly pleased that I was admiring her body.

"Meredith, to be honest with you, I have no position like that available, not even on a temporary basis. Whoever told you that was mistaken."

She sat there for a long while, her green eyes studying me. "It's Kevin, isn't it?"

I nodded. "Kevin Crawford."

"I really need to find a job, Kevin. Maybe you know someone who could use a hard worker. I'll do pretty much …anything!"

I returned her gaze. Her shoulders were back, pulling her blouse tight across her chest. She was smiling. 

"Anything, Kevin." 

"Meredith, I'll keep my eyes open for you. Why don't you leave me a number where you can be reached?" I slid a pad of paper and a pen in her direction; the word "anything" rattled around inside my head.

She scooted forward in her chair and then leaned over the desk. As she wrote down her name and phone number, I treated my eyes to the wondrous attraction of two well-displayed breasts and an equally perfect pair of legs, even more uncovered now that her skirt had crept up her thighs a little more.

Normally I would have gotten up and shown her out, but a totally unexpected condition in my trousers made the prospect of standing up a potential embarrassment.

For at least an hour after Meredith Cole left, her perfume—or hair spray or whatever it was—lingered in my office, reminding me vividly of the flirtatious young thing that had serendipitously crossed my path and made an unmistakable impression on me—and my cock.

PART FIVE

Saturday, before I got around to calling Charlotte, she called me.

"Angie, you'll never guess who I met at the Car Barn Saturday night."

"You're right. I won't. So, tell me."

"Henry."

"The Henry at Kevin's work?"

"The same one."

"He was at the Car Barn? By himself?"

"Yeah, apparently he goes there to pick up women."

"Really? Did he hit on you?"

"He did. Or tried to. I let him buy me a drink. And … and I danced with him."

"Isn't he an older guy, in his sixties maybe?"

"Probably, although he's in pretty good shape. He looked familiar too. I think you may have danced with him that night I took you there."

"Are you kidding me?"


"No. Really. I think you did. Anyway, here's the kicker: He asks me if I know a woman named Angie. Is that crazy, or what? He says she's about my age, married, and very, very hot."

"Get out of here!"

"I'm serious. I asked him how he knew this Angie."

"What did he say?"

"He wouldn't say. Just that he had a very important message for her, something that would probably make her very happy."

"But he never told you any more than that?"

"No, but it has to be about Charles, right?"

"Yeah. What else? He must be coming to town."

"And obviously Kevin's not too anxious for you to know about it."

"Yeah, he probably suspects that my dates with Charles were not all that chaste."

"That's putting it mildly."

"How did you leave it with him?"

"I told him I knew someone named Angie that fit that description, and he gave me his business card. I'm not sure what he expects me to do with it. Give it to you, I guess."

"That's crazy. There must be dozens of 30-year-old Angie's running around town, and he thinks he's going to just bump into the right one?"

"Well, he did, didn't he?"

"Yeah, for whatever it's worth. Hey, how's the hunt for Ms. Jezebel coming along?"

"Coming. Nothing firm. But I definitely have someone thinking it over."

"Great. Call me if you hear any more. I gotta go; I have a chicken in the oven. I'm surprising Kevin with one of his favorite meals."

"Isn't he home?"

"No, he had to go into the office to catch up on some paper work this afternoon."

"I see."

"Talk to you later, Charlotte."

"Bye, Angie."

PART SIX

I've never done anything like this. Agreeing to meet Meredith at my office on a Saturday afternoon, ostensibly to give her some advice on her job search—who was kidding who?

I didn't think for one minute that our "meeting" would be strictly business. And I was sure she was thinking the same way too. The couple of times we talked on the phone were hardly professional conversations. Meredith talked to me like she knew me, like we were already friends, and like we could be more than friends if I wanted that. By agreeing to meet her, after hours like this, I was admitting to myself that "more than friends" was, in fact, something I wanted.

She showed up in a sweater and jeans, but if that's all I told you about her appearance, you'd be grossly under-informed. First of all, Meredith's sweater was scooped out in front, showing me that same glorious cleavage I witnessed the day I first met her.

She wore a bra under her sweater, but it couldn't have been much of one, the way her tits moved around inside that sweater. The sweater, by the way, ran out of material before it ever reached her waist, revealing a couple of inches of smooth, flat porcelain tummy. Then there was the jeans. They were the low-riding, hip-hugging variety--a stretch denim that hugged her in more places than just her hips. 




Maybe I Should Tell Him



Her hair was piled up on top of her head, giving her a more mature appearance. Now she could pass for 25, or so. Those unforgettable green eyes were back, painted to perfection, just like before.

The whole package had an instantaneous impact on me, the kind of impact that manifests itself in a guy's cock. This time, however, I made no attempt to conceal it, as I led her into the employee's lounge, a much more comfortable place to conduct a meeting—of any type. 

I started out talking about her experience, but she quickly steered the conversation toward the inevitable.

"I don't have a lot of experience with married men, but I'm willing to learn," she told me, letting me know with her eyes that she was aware of the elongated bulge in my jeans. We were both sitting on the leather sofa at the time.

"You know, Meredith, that sweater … that's not something you'd want to wear to a job interview. You know that, right?" I told her, pretending to keep the alleged purpose for our meeting on track.

"Oh, I shouldn't be wearing this? Is that what you mean?" she giggled, running her hands over the front of her tight sweater, before reaching down and grabbing it at the bottom. I watched her quickly pull it up over her head with one smooth motion.

"Better?" she asked, her smile full of innocent mischief, her tits practically spilling out of their minimal confines.

"Better for me, I guess," I mused. "You've got beautiful breasts, Meredith."

"Thank you, Kevin. I can tell you like them," she added, glancing down to my crotch.

"What man wouldn't?"

"Speaking of beauties," she said, her hand gently gliding up my thigh and coming to rest on my hard-on, "what does a girl have to do to get a peak at this beauty?" 

"I guess a kiss might do it," I joked.

"That's all?" she said. "Here."

She leaned over and kissed me, her luscious tits pressing into me. The formalities of the "meeting" were over. She kept her hand on my cock. Her lips were soft and warm. Our tongues met. I was sure I was in the middle of a dream that would end any second and that this nearly topless young playmate throwing herself at me would be nothing more than a married man's wet dream. 

"OK, now I get to see it," she said, helping herself to my belt buckle, and then the snap on my jeans, and then the zipper. She asked me to stand up and when I did, she worked my jeans down to my knees. As far as I know, I've never been able to dream standing up. This had to be really happening.

"Hmm, she hummed, admiring the way my cock made a tent in my shorts.

"Oh, Kevin!" she sighed, rubbing her hands all over me. And then, tugging my shorts down my legs: "Ooh, you're so big!" 

I stood there, looking down at her as she fondled my cock with both hands. She was a vision of sheer desire.

"I've never tasted a married man's cock before, Kevin. Would you mind … if I …"

I shook my head, admiring how her eyes sparkled and how bare her jiggling tits looked in her little bra. And then I was admiring the way her lips felt on my cock. She took the whole head of my dick into her mouth and sucked so gently on it. Not in any hurry. Just soft, gentle sucking. It was divine. I have no words to describe the sensations Meredith's mouth produced on my cock. The whole time she was sucking me, I kept thinking how badly I wanted her out of her jeans and on her back.

I told her to stop; I wanted to see her naked.

She giggled getting out of her clothes, especially when I helped her take off her thong panties. For some reason that really amused her.

We screwed on the sofa, or at least we started off screwing on the sofa. I was on top of a naked wriggling snake that moved with my every thrust. Soon her head was hanging off the front of the sofa, and then her shoulders. We rolled onto the floor, my cock deep inside her. She screamed my name over and over, her hands clamped onto my ass making it impossible to come anywhere but inside her.

I never knew cheating could feel so good. 



PART SEVEN

Sunday afternoons, this time of year, Kevin likes to watch football on television. Either a couple of his friends come over to our place or Kevin goes to one of their houses. Today, Kevin's friend Scott was hosting. So, when Charlotte called, I was by myself and had just finished vacuuming.

"Angie, I ran into Henry again."

"Last night?"

"Yeah. I told him I spoke with you and then I mentioned the name Charles Metzger. And his eyes lit up like the fourth of July! And are you ready for this, he pulls out a pair of airplane tickets—round trip to San Diego—and says these are for ‘Angie.'

Charles wants her to fly out to California for a party he's throwing."

"You're making this up."

"I swear to God I'm not, Angie."

"Oh, my God!"

"Do you believe this?"

"I want to go, Charlotte."

"I figured you might, that's why I took the tickets."

"Oh, Christ! Charlotte, I had so much fun with Charles. He's so different from Kevin. Wait a minute! Kevin's never going to go along with this. Shit! For a minute there, I could actually picture myself flying to California," I snickered, blinking back to reality.

"Hold on. What if …"

"I love it when you get creative."

"What if you were invited to a family wedding or a school reunion or something the same weekend as the party?"

"You mean, like somewhere out of state?"

"Yeah. It could even be in California, although that'd probably sound a little too suspicious."

"When is Charles throwing this party? Do you know?"

"In two weeks. You'd fly out that Friday morning and return late Sunday night"

"Is that enough time to arrange something?"

"Maybe. I have a friend in Vegas. She could give you a call. She could be an old college roomie who's getting married and insists that you have to have a part in the wedding. You wouldn't want to break her heart, now would you?"

"Absolutely not," I chuckled.

"Angie, this is so delicious. You know you bring out the devil in me?"

"I'm getting wet just thinking about this whole thing."

"Shame on you!"

"Yeah!" I giggled, reaching my hand into my panties to see if I really was wet. 

I was. 

PART EIGHT

I went in to see Henry this morning and tell him I couldn't get in touch with Angie, but much to my surprise, he told me not to worry about it. 

"It's all set," he said.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I ran into someone else who knows Angie," he told me. "A girl friend of hers. And it's all set. Angie's up for it. I'm going to see that you get a nice increase in your bonus this year, Kevin. After all, you're the one who introduced Angie to Charles in the first place."

"Uh, thanks, Henry. Thanks."

"Don't mention it."

I think I must have staggered out of Henry's office. I was confused and extremely eager to talk to Angie when I got home.

When was she planning to tell me about flying out to California and why would she think I'd go along with it? These were the questions I needed answers for, but, as it turned out, I never got around to asking them. Angie got a phone call that night from a friend of hers in Las Vegas —someone she knows from college. Apparently they're pretty close; she wants Angie to be in her wedding. 

"When is it, honey?" I asked her.

"Weekend after next. Is that OK with you?"

Vegas? The weekend after next? How interesting. The same weekend as Charles' party. I could feel my temperature rising, but I bit my tongue and walked into the other room without answering her. She followed me, repeating her question.

"Is that OK with you, honey?"

"Is anything going on that weekend" I asked her.

"No, our calendar's free as far as I know," she said.

"Let me check," I said, and when she was out of the room I made a phone call.

"Meredith, I'd like to see you again. Are you up for it?"

She was.

"Great. What's on your calendar the weekend after next?"

"Nothing, yet."

"How about a date?"

"Ooh, I'd love a date with you, Kevin. Are we talking about Saturday night, or what?"

"I was thinking Saturday night-Sunday morning."

"Oh, Kevin, that sounds delicious! But how are you going to get away from your wife?"

"It's taken care of, Sweetie. Talk to you later."

Angie was watching television. I sat down beside her and put my arm around her.

"What's up, honey?" she asked, patting my leg. 

"I was just thinking about that wedding …"

"So, you're OK with it?"

I gave her a hug, "Yeah. I don't see anything on my calendar that you have to be here for."

She grinned and kissed me. "Oh, honey, that's wonderful. You really don't care if I go?"


"I want you to go. And have a good time."

"Thanks," she said, kissing me again. Her hand moved up my thigh.

I kissed her back. Our mouths opened, welcoming each other's tongue.

We made love right there on the sofa. 

TO BE CONTINUED …

[Author's note: The next story is called "Party Girl." I hope you enjoy it.]



Maybe It Is



Mr. Lancing stopped abruptly at the copy room entrance.

"Stop it, you perv," he heard a young woman say. He saw now it was Abby, a bright intern who had started with the firm a few months ago. A young man, with his back to him, stood a couple feet back from her at the collating machine. Mr. Lansing was about to intercede when Abby jut out her rump at the young man. He, in turn, placed a stack of papers in the machine then swung out his arm and gave her a quick swat on the butt.

"I said stop," she whined, then giggled. Out thrust her bottom again. 

Encased in a tastefully fitted dress knitted dress, appropriate for the accounting firm's dress code, Mr. Lancing, the firm's Human Resources Director, understood the young man's engagement. Nonetheless, he was disappointed. The work ethic of today's youth was appalling. This wasn't play time. He cleared his throat. Abby looked up and her eyes locked with his as they widened in shock. The young man turned and Mr. Lancing noted in his periphery the meticulously groomed thin sideburns and soul patch. Hayden, the spoiled snot hired from their crosstown competitor, Whitney, Larson, and Fox. Another recent hire, two years out of college and had yet to pass his CPA exam. He held Abby's gaze a few moments more, then kept walking to his meeting.

A half hour later, Abby returned to her desk and set down the stack of twelve, bound reports. As she reached for a Post-it to make a note for her supervisor, she noticed another yellow sticky on her phone. "Abby, please stop by my office at 5:30." It was signed by Mr. Lansing. 

Her first reaction was a cold chill. She screwed up and was going to be fired. That stupid Hayden. She fell into her chair and stared at the note. But then it occurred to her that it also could be about the firm's annual report she was helping Mr. Lansing with that was due the next week. That must be it. They had talked almost daily about that and she hadn't seen him today. Well, except for at the copy room. Stupid Hayden.

Feeling relieved, she cheerfully scribbled her note and stuck it on the stack of reports. Then the time of her visit with Mr. Lansing sunk in. 5:30. She was supposed to go with Hayden and a bunch of associates to a happy hour at five. Bummed, she phoned Hayden and informed him she would meet him there later, and carted off her copied reports to their next destination.

At 5:25, Abby took the elevator up three floors to the executive suite. Not surprising, it was deserted. Staff were discouraged from working past five. "Family First" was one of the corporate mottos. A spike of panic paralyzed her. Was their meeting at 4:30? Did she misread it? Just then a door down the hall opened. Mr. Lansing's head popped out.

"Hello, Abby. Come in, please."

She followed him into his office and sat where he motioned in one of the chairs by his desk. He strode slowly around to his side of the desk and sat. There were no papers on the top, which at first she took as a good sign. No form to sign to go in her file documenting her foolish moment of "inappropriate behavior in the workplace." A forever smudge on her professional record. As the HR Director, he would have every kind of personnel form readily at hand, so this was good. Then her heart sank. No this is bad. Very bad. There's nothing to talk about. Finished. Pack your things and leave.

"Abby?"

She tensed and sat up straighter.

"You're one of the brightest persons I've worked with in a long time. What year are you?"

"A junior, sir."

He folded his hands and leaned forward. "So next year you graduate, then take your exam. I guarantee you'll pass first time through."

Abby breathed again and almost felt a tear of relief. "Really? Thank you, Mr. Lansing. I love accounting. I'm such a geek. I love it." She looked at him. He was staring at her. "Oh, I didn't mean that you're a..."

"But Hayden?"

"Sir?" 

Mr. Lansing leaned back in his chair. "Hayden, is in the wrong field. He's not corporate material. He will not be back tomorrow."

Abby gasped. "What? Don't fire him because of me. I provoked him."

"We'll talk about your part in this in a moment." Mr. Lansing stood up and started pacing. "Hayden is a free spirit. An artist. Yes, he's good with numbers, but he doesn't grasp the principles of accounting. Nor does he have the discipline to learn them. He is and will remain miserable as an accountant. What's more, he will drag you down. I am doing you both a favor."

Abby's lower lip quivered. "I feel horrible. What have I done?"

Mr. Lansing came over and half sat, half leaned on a corner of the desk closer to her.

"Well, let's talk about that. As I said, you have great potential. Unlike Hayden, all this whole accounting thing seems to come naturally to you."

Abby sat up. "Oh, it does, Mr. Lansing. It does."

"But you're still young. You don't have the discipline yet of a proper work attitude. You still have a part-time mall retail job fun and games mentality. Nothing wrong with that...at the mall. This internship, though, is the big time for you. You need embrace this now. It's time to grow up."

Abby looked down at her lap. "I know, sir. My parents always say the same thing. I'm still figuring things out. Life, I mean."

"I appreciate that, Abby. You have been sort of pushed ahead of your time."

"That's exactly how it feels. Like I'm always catching up."

Mr. Lansing nodded. "You need guidance, Abby. Even as an adult. Your parents won't always be there to look after you."

She laughed. "They really didn't anyway. They both worked. A lot."

Mr. Lansing thought for what began to feel like an uncomfortably long time. He stood up. "Abby, you need a good spanking."

"Excuse me?"

He took her by the hand. "Stand up."

Abby stood but was so bewildered she couldn't form words because suddenly nothing made any sense. Before she knew it, she was bent over Mr. Lansing's desk.

"My parents were like yours, Abby. Always busy."

Abby tried to stand but felt has big hand on the small of her back. She was pinned. "I don't understand. What are you...?" She felt a sudden fire explode across her cheek as Mr. Lansing's other hand swung down. She screamed out. Then gasped as another blow came, and more. 

"Abby, my salvation was a nun in the boarding school I was sent away to. She instilled in me self-discipline through the discipline she gave, just as I'm giving you now." He stopped spanking and stepped to the side of the desk. "Do you understand me?"

There was silence. Then slowly at first, he could see Abby's body tremble. Then came a loud sniffling sound, followed by a low mewl. She raised her head and nodded. Mr. Lancing dropped to a knee next to her and stroked her hair. "You can have what I have, Abby. Position, power to create good things. It's in you. It just needs shaping. Which brings us to the copy room." 

She nodded and he noticed the sound of her crying intensified.

"That kind of behavior can never happen again. You're beyond that." He helped her stand up. "Do you understand?"

"Yes sir," she croaked, her face down-turned.

"It was very childish and I hope I will never have to do this again."

She looked up at him. Her mascara trailing down her cheeks. "Do what sir?"

He sat down in her chair, pulled her over his lap, and said, "Treat you like a child." 

Abby yelped when he lifted her dress to her waist. She started to move her hand back to cover when he worked the waistband of her black silk panties over her pink bottom, but then put her hand back on the floor and let him slide them to her knees. She knew he was right. 

The first spanks stung the most, nearly unbearable. But then, time stood still and Abby disappeared deep into herself. She didn't feel any pain, but cried for the little girl walking away into a dollhouse, and cried even more at the sight of the woman who now came out of a beautiful house, confident and poised. She wanted to be this woman. Knew that she could. Her tears stopped though the spanking went on. She smiled, oblivious to the pummeling on her bottom.

Suddenly she felt the world tilting and then found herself sitting on Mr. Lansing's lap. He held her close and she sunk her head against his shoulder, not yet ready to leave this dream. A deep masculine voice pried open her reverie.

"Abby...Abby, let's get you dressed so you can go home. This is no way for a confident and poised woman to be. Is it?"

She laughed as she wiped her eyes. "I don't know, sir. Maybe it is." She kissed his cheek before standing up and rubbing her bottom. "Maybe it is"

THE END



Maybe It Was Memphis



I called you early Monday morning, before you were even awake.  I got the machine and I hoped that you would hear the message before you left for the day.

I was flying into Memphis Thursday afternoon for a weekend away from it all.  Jessica decided she would take the weekend off too and fly down to Memphis with me.  After that tryst in Seattle last summer, and nearly a year since I'd had you inside me, I needed to see you again.  Could I persuade you to meet us in Memphis?  Yes... us...

I checked my email and phone messages all week hoping for a response.  Yes.. no.. either way, just as long as you said something.  By Thursday I still hadn't heard anything from you, and I figured you weren't coming.  I called and left the hotel name and room number on your voice mail, just in case, and  Jessica and I boarded the plane and took off for a weekend with Elvis.

I confided to Jessica right after I got home from Seattle.  I told her everything that happened between us,.  She didn't look surprised when I told her.  

"A… do you feel guilty for fucking Greg when you went to Seattle?"  Jess asked. 

"Guilty?  He was the best fuck I've ever had.  No, I don't feel guilty."  I reached across the seat and brushed Jessica's chest with my arm.

"Careful hun.  You know I want you anyway."

"Yeah, I know."  I smiled.  "It's too bad Greg won't be meeting us in Memphis.  He's always wanted to see two girls go at it."

"Well, we can videotape it for him."  Jessica laughed as she put her hand on my thigh.  This may turn out to be an exciting weekend after all.

The plane pulled into Memphis Airport around 4:15 in the afternoon.  Jess and I grabbed our bags from the luggage return and headed across the terminal to the exit.  We stepped outside and Jess lit up a cigarette.  The sultry Memphis air hit me and brought back memories of Seattle.  The heat, the humidity, the passion.  God, how I wanted you again.  I'd resigned myself to the fact that I wouldn't ever feel you inside me again, and decided to let it go.  Memories were great, but I needed the real thing, and I wasn't going to get it.  

Jess stomped out her cigarette and tossed it in the ashtray as I hailed a cab.  We arrived at the hotel a few minutes later and checked into our rooms.

Jess plopped down on the bed and pulled out a map of the city.

"So, A, what do you want to do first?"  I was preoccupied checking out the room and didn't answer her at first.  I was surprised to feel her arms around my waist as she whispered in my ear, "What are you in the mood for?"

I turned around slowly to face her, making sure she didn't move her arms away from my body.  She smelled so good, her skin was so soft, her blond hair brushed against my cheek.  "I don't know."  Was all I could muster.  She moved her hands from my waist and rubbed my arms.  

"Hey, it's ok.  I'll go slow."  She said.  She leaned her face towards mine, and when I didn't pull back, she softly kissed me.  Very soft, very slow.  She pulled away and looked into my eyes.

"Are you ok?"  She asked me.  
"Yeah..."  I managed, mesmerized by these feelings inside me, and the ache in my body.

"Not now."  She said.  Jess walked over to the bed and picked up her suitcase.  "I'm gonna change and then we are gonna hit the town.  Get changed A.  We'll finish this later."  I nodded at her and grabbed my slinkiest dress from my suitcase.  

*****

We got back to the hotel around midnight, exhausted from our night on the town, and collapsed on the bed.

"Did you have fun, A?"  Jess asked me as she sat up began unbuttoning her shirt.

"Yes!"  I exclaimed.  "It was awesome."

"Are you still thinking about Greg?"  Jess walked over to the bathroom door and reached in for her brush.  I watched the bristles part her long blond hair as it fell softly over her shoulders.

"Off and on."  I lied.  I thought about you constantly.  Jess walked over to me and gently kissed my forehead.  

"Try not to worry.  You'll see him again soon."

"How would you know?"  I asked her.

"Well, I kinda contacted him the day before yesterday and we was going to meet us here."

"Oh my god Jess.  Well, where is he?"  I could feel my pussy juices begin to flow.

"I don't know."  She said.  "But he knows which hotel room we are in so he should be here."  

My heart pounded at the thought of seeing you again.

As if the timing couldn't be more perfect, there was a knock at the door.  I looked through the peek hole and saw you standing there, as handsome and as ready to be fucked as ever.  You carried a bouquet of long-stemmed red roses.  I opened the door, and pulled you inside without a word.

"You're here.  I can't believe you're here."  I stammered.  

"I'm here."  You said as you leaned down and kissed my lips.  Your hand felt its way to my breast where it began feeling for my nipple.

"God you have no idea how much I want you."  I said to you as your fingers found their mark.  You whispered softly into my ear, "Yes, I do."


*****

You sat down on the bed and took off your clothes.  There you were, again, before me.  I stared at you for what seemed like an eternity while Jess changed in the bathroom.

"I've missed you."  I said.

You pulled me into you.  "Me too."  You said as your mouth found my breast.  I threw my head back and moaned.

"I see you're talking advantage of my woman."  Jess joked as she came out of the bathroom, completely naked.  Three naked people in one hotel room.  What to do...

Jess knew what to do and she wasn't shy about it.  She laid back on the bed and parted her legs enough to get her fingers inside her.  God, she was turning me on.  I was so wet and I didn't know which was making it worse, you sitting there, cock hard, looking at me in that way you do, or Jessica's perfect body splayed out for me.  I knew who I wanted to please. And I could please both of you by doing one thing.

I climbed between Jess's legs and sat on my knees for a moment.  She spread her legs apart and put her hands behind her head.  I looked over at you as you sat, cock in hand, staring at us.

"Enjoy it, but don't come."  I told you.  I wanted you to come inside me.  Nowhere else.    I turned back to Jessica's laying wantonly in front of me.  I arranged myself between her legs so my face was just inches from her mound.  

I kissed the inside of her thigh from her knee to her mound and then down the other leg.  She reached up and grabbed her breasts with her hands.  I reached up and ran my fingers through her pubic hair, parting her labia with my fingers.  She spread her legs a little wider for me, and I leaned in and kissed her soft mound.  She moaned and her breathing became heavy.  

I looked over at you and watched you stroke your cock slowly as you watched us.  I leaned back into Jessica's mound and stuck my tongue between her pussy lips.  She moaned loudly, and so did you.

I pushed Jessica's legs apart as wide as they would go as my tongue explored her sex.  She began panting as my tongue circled her clit in slow, soft circles, working my way from the outside in.  Her button leaped from it's hood and presented itself to me.  I covered it with my mouth as Jess let out a loud cry and bucked her pussy against my mouth.  I sucked on her clit gently flicking my tongue across it slowly at first, then faster, as Jessica's hips swayed and bucked beneath me.

"Tell me when you're gonna come."  I instructed her.  Leaning back in, I forced two fingers into her pussy and she began to pant.  I fucked her pussy with my fingers as I sucked her clit.  Her face writhed in pleasure and in agony as I licked her clit.

"I'm ready."  Jess said through pants.

I stopped.  I moved my fingers from her pussy and moved my mouth from her clit.

"What…" She stammered.

"Turn over."  I instructed her.  She did as she was told and got up on her hands and knees.  I reached into my bag and pulled out my 9-inch purple strap-on and fastened it securely to my body.  I lined up the dildo with her pussy and slammed it into her, covering it with her juices.

"Oh God!"  She screamed as I rammed her pussy over and over, coating the dildo.

Just as soon as I entered her, I exited her.  I stuck my fingers inside her pussy to coat them with her juices, and then pulled them out.  I opened her ass cheeks and rubbed her juices on her tight hole.

"Oh fuck!"  She yelled when she knew what was coming next.  I lined up the dildo with her tight ass and began to push it slowly inside of her.  She moaned as inch by inch the dildo slipped into her ass until all 9 inches were buried deep inside her.

"Are you ready?"  I asked her.

She moaned her approval and I began to fuck her ass.  Slowly at first and then faster and faster until I began to run out of breath.  Her moans and screams were driving me crazy, and when I looked at you, the sweat poured off you as you tried your hardest to control your orgasm.

"Don't come!"  I yelled to you.  

"I won't."  You said.

I turned back to Jessica as I watched the dildo fill her again and again.  

"I'm bout to come."  She said.  She reached her fingers down and began tugging her clit as I pumped into her.  A low moan escaped her lips and it grew louder and louder as her body began to shake.  "Oh fuck, oh fuck!"  Jess screamed over and over again until the waves of her orgasm subsided.  

I let her calm down before I pulled out of her ass.  She flipped over and lay on her back as I took off the toy and set it aside.  She pulled me on top of her and kissed me passionately as she touched my breasts.

"Thank you."  She mouthed.  I nodded.

"Go clean up, Jess."

"I will as long as you two get busy,"  Jess said as she rolled off the bed.  "Greg, you better fuck her like there's no tomorrow."

I blushed a little, but knew that Jess only had my best interests at heart.  "I'll be back in a little bit, ok?"  Jess said as she walked into the bathroom.

I sat on the opposite bed facing you as you stroked your cock.

"Are you just about to come, or do you still have enough fuck left in you to make it worth my while?"  I asked.

"As long as you let me fuck your ass..."  You chuckled.  But you already knew the answer to that.

"How do you want me?"  I asked.  You stood up and leaned over me.  I laid back on the bed and the flood of memories came back to me.  But this time you were much more aggressive.  Had it been that long?

You threw my legs over your shoulders and lifted my hips off the bed.  I could feel the head of your cock at the entrance to my ass.  Slowly, you pushed the head in.  I moaned in pain, and my face crunched up.

"I'm not stopping, so deal with it."  You said.  

"I've waited too damn long."  God, you were totally turning me on.  Just to hear you talk like that to me blew my mind.

Your cock eased it's way inside my ass slowly until it was buried to the hilt.  Your balls smacked my ass lightly as you adjusted yourself inside of me.

"You like that in your ass?"  You glared at me.

"Hell yeah!"  I said.

"Tell me what you want."

"Fuck my ass, Greg.  Make me scream."  You pulled your cock out slowly then slammed it back into me.  You did it again, not even giving me time to catch my breath.  You held it inside me after the second slam and grabbed my waist.  

You leaned back and I fell on top of you, your cock still buried deep in my ass.  I straddled you, your hands on my waist, my hands on your chest, and slowly moved my body up and down on your cock.  Your eyes closed as my ass tightened around your massive cock.  

I rode you so hard and so fast, your cock in my ass, tearing me up.  The pain mixed with pleasure I couldn't tell anymore which one I was feeling.

Suddenly you pulled out of my ass and told me to turn over.  I got down on all fours as your fingers explored my clit.  My body ached, my pussy ached, my ass ached.  I needed to come, and I needed you to come.  You lined yourself up and slammed your cock deep within my pussy and I screamed with pleasure.  You reached your hands around and grabbed my tits, pinching my nipples in rhythm to your strokes.  

My body began to lose control as my orgasm began to grow inside of me.  Sensing this, you began to fuck me faster, pinching my nipples faster, slamming into me harder and harder than I ever remember you doing. My pussy grabbed your cock and took hold as I began to climax.

"That's a girl."  You said as the height of my orgasm took hold and my body began to shake.  I had no control.  Your cock impaled me and your hands held me prisoner as wave after wave of pleasure rocked me.  They kept on coming.  One after the other the orgasms came.

"Oh God, Greg, whatever you're doing don't stop.  Holy fuck.."  I yelled.  I felt my body explode as another orgasm came over me.

"I'm gonna come."  You said between breaths.  "Where do you want it?"

"My pussy.  Fill me with your seed."  You needed no coaxing.  You hips swayed as your cock filled me over and over again.  As slick and as wet as my pussy was, I could still feel your cock pulse as your orgasm took over.  A long, hot, spray of cum shot into me, flooding my pussy and hitting my cervix.  You pulled your cock out as soon as you were finished and stuck three fingers inside my freshly fucked pussy.

"Don't let any of my cum slip out."  You said.  You fucked my pussy with your fingers, and I began to feel full from the load of cum you deposited inside me.  Something began to heat up inside me as your fingers fucked me.

"I'm gonna come again."  I moaned.  You slipped another finger inside my pussy, stretching it, fucking it with your hand as you slipped two fingers inside my ass.  I bucked my body against your hands as another orgasm took over my body and I exploded. 

When it was over, I lay face down on the bed, your hands still inside my holes.  You removed them and draped your spent body on top of mine, kissing my neck and cheek.

"We must really meet like this more often."  You whispered in my ear.

"If I had my way, it would be every day." I said.  "You can fuck me like no one ever has."

"I have to fly back to Seattle in the morning.  But you're welcome to join me..."



Maybe It Will Happen Like This....



Maybe it happens like this: we are sitting on a park bench at dusk, on a warm summer evening. We are talking, casually laughing at each other's jokes as we have many times before. But this time the electricity in the air is stronger; the kind of electricity that is almost better than sex. The anticipation of being 85% sure that you are both thinking the same thing but still feeling too vulnerable to act. The breeze picks up, as it so often does when the sun begins to set, blowing my hair in front of my eyes, and before you have time to stop and think about what you are doing, you reach up and gently tuck it behind my ear. I go still as your hand stalls and your fingertips gently caress my earlobe. I tilt my face up towards yours and your hand drifts down to cup the nape of my neck, your fingers threading through my hair. 

Suddenly we aren't talking any more. The whole world around us grows distant and dim and I am staring into your eyes. Your look is part question, part dare, and you slowly lean down and brush your lips against mine as my eyes flutter closed. Such a gentle kiss, asking permission. I part my lips slightly in answer and the kiss deepens, slowly growing hungry as you become more sure. My hands press into your chest. Not to push you away but to feel your strong heart beating under your skin. You softly lick my top lip and tighten your hand in my hair, pulling me closer against your body. I feel a hum strike through me as sparks of electricity shoot from my mouth, down to my belly button, and then straight to my warm, wet center. I moan quietly against your mouth and you press against me harder. My desire fueling your own. 

We pull back slightly and your eyes are on fire. I feel soft and dazed with the strength of the passion rolling through my body and you must see it in my face because you let out a low, growl and kiss me again; this time with more determination and confidence, shocking me all the way to my toes. "Let's go," you whisper in my ear, and I suddenly become aware of the world again. The kids in the park, the joggers and roaming packs of laughing teenagers. We get up, and I feel unsteady. Your hand grabs mine and we walk, dazed, towards the street to hail a cab. 

In the back seat I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the window and see my slightly swollen lips, wind blown hair and wonton expression. We must reek of musk but the cabbie says nothing as he deftly weaves in and out of traffic. Your hand, still holding mine, is in your lap and I can feel the hot evidence of you arousal. Staring straight ahead you switch my right hand to yours and begin tracing light circles on my inner thigh with the other. I can feel the heat at my core building. My head falls languidly backwards and I sense the world rushing past us in a blur as my eyes close. 

Finally we are there, and I don't even remember getting out of the cab or up the steps to your door. It seems we are suddenly inside and you press me up against the door as you close it behind us. I can feel the whole length of your body, my hands clasped in yours, are pinned above my head, and you stare deeply into my eyes before claiming my mouth again in a long, powerful kiss that leaves me breathless and arching against you. Your hardness presses into me and all I can think of is how badly I want to feel your naked skin. But you aren't done with me yet, and still holding me captive, you nibble your way down my neck making my knees go weak. In one swift motion you pick me up and wrap my legs around your waist. I can feel your cock pressing between my legs, only blocked by the flimsy material of my cotton sundress, and knowing how hard you are makes me feel deliciously sexy and fearless. 

Locked together you carry me down the hall to your bedroom and lay us down on the bed. I flip us over and straddle your middle, rubbing our two cores together. You are glorious beneath me. Your intense, sex soaked stare just makes me hotter and I lean down to kiss you as I begin to unbutton your shirt, making sure to explore the skin I uncover, as your hands tangle in my hair. You smell like sun and saltwater. Your skin smooth, hot and responsive to every caress. I lick and nibble my way down to your belt as you push up towards me, groaning with pleasure. Teasingly, I begin to work my way back up and in frustration you flip me over, pinning me beneath you, both my wrists clasped in one of your strong hands as the other undoes the buttons on my dress, exposing the lacy bra and skin beneath. My nipples harden in anticipation as you unhook my bra and swiftly suck one into your mouth. I arch my back with pleasure, twisting and writhing against you as you work your way down to my white cotton panties. 

I feel your hot breath against me as you nuzzle your nose into my sex, sending me even higher. You lightly nibble through the fabric, gently teasing me as I twist against you. With your one free hand you slowly work my panties off and expose my hot, engorged center to the cool air. I gasp at the shock and you slowly exhale against my sensitive skin, preparing me for the gentle tracing of your tongue. Almost more than I can bear, I mutter incoherently and push into your mouth, greedy for more. I am dripping with desire and I beg you to take me. Impatient. I want to feel you inside me. You slide back and slowly unbuckle your belt and I think it is the sexiest sound I have ever heard, as you unzip your pants and slide out of them; exposing your beautiful, hard, proud cock to my gaze. I reach out to caress it and it's heavy swollen weight fills my hand with heat as I admire its length, hard and soft and smooth. I can't wait a moment longer and I guide you between my legs. Our eyes lock as your cock finds me. You stop and rest there, right at the entrance, and I can see that it takes all your self control not to push into me all at once. 

I reach out to you and caress your face as I raise my hips, trying to skewer myself on you and you moan as your self control slips, sliding into me. Both of us gasping at the relief of finally being united. You press all the way in, down to the root, and our bodies grind together, trying to get even closer. You bend down and kiss me, deep and slow, our tongues tasting each other, connecting us further. Your hips flex in small circles, rubbing against me with each little movement. I feel every inch of you, filling me, and the full realization of your cock inside me is so erotic that I begin to sense a low buzzing hum at my core. My hands reach down to pull you in even more. And you tease me by pulling almost all the way out before thrusting into me again, making me cry out your name in a low whisper, my lips against yours. 

Our bodies set up an instinctual rhythm, moving together, slick with desire. Every inch of my skin is awake. As you push into me, little ripples of ecstasy roll over and through my body. I feel so full, of you, of light. The buzzing grows louder and begins to spread, moving out from my core, into my stomach and up, up, up. I am arching against you, almost mindless with pleasure, and I am vaguely aware, as if from a distance, that sounds are coming out of my mouth. I feel the break coming and say your name again, urgently. My breasts pushing up towards your face. You nip lightly on a nipple and suddenly I crash over. All that delicious heat erupting in a massive, shaking climax. And I see your face, watching my pleasure, sending you over with me as you thrust more quickly to match my explosion. The ecstasy rolls on and on as I watch you come. Hard. I can feel you twitching deep inside me as you fill me up with your hot cum and that sends me up again. The pleasure more acute this time, making me scream as I grab your hips and pull you down on top of me. Where I lick your neck to taste the salty sweetness of your sweat, our breathing ragged. 

We lay like this, completely entangled, as our hearts calm. Gently stroking each other with long, slow caresses; soothing the heat back down to a simmer. We fall asleep as the last rays of the sun go down. Later, I awake to you softly kissing my neck and we make love again, slowly this time, half asleep. We explore each other gently, finding all the spots we might have missed the first time. It lasts longer, there is less urgency, but the pleasure, when it comes, is no less intense.



Maybe Just One Good Man?



This story is dedicated in all honor and respect to the fine men (and women) of our armed forces, and to the families who wait and watch - and to two men in particular with my personal love, honor and respect - N.C.I.S. Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs (who this character is NOT but who inspired a great deal of this story) and to the love of my life...who knows all the reasons why.

# # # #

She heard the first car door slam through the open window above the sink while she was rinsing her dinner dishes. At first glance she thought with some humor that it looked like an ad for that movie...what was the name...oh yeah, "A Few Good Men". Then her wide blue eyes riveted onto the Bible in the hands of the...Chaplain and thought, "aw shit...I wonder who..." They milled briefly at the side of the car, collecting themselves, settling service dress uniforms and gloves. Her neighbor, Rae Jeanne, ever bold and waiting for no man to bring her word, waded into the middle of the group. She continued to mechanically dry her hands on the damp towel, blood already freezing in her veins. Seeing the group, now including Rae Jeanne, moving purposefully toward her sidewalk she said aloud -

"Awww SHIT!"

Smoothing her hand across the mound of her belly when the baby kicked forcefully -

"Ssshhhh... It'll be okay sweetie, I promise."

Putting down the towel and straightening her spine, chin up and dry-eyed as befitted a Marine's wife...widow she corrected...she moved to the front door.

# # # #

His gray-blue eyes took in everything at a glance, the standardized military housing, as well as the neatly trimmed grass, the colorful flower bed, and the wind chimes tossing gaily in the spring breeze. A short, feisty looking black woman had introduced herself as Rae Jeanne Carpenter, saying -

"Alright boys, if it's my man then no need to come no further. If not, then you tell me who it was and I'll go with you to meet his woman."

The Chaplain bent his head to murmur in her ear and she reared back, eyes flashing -

"That one!" She spat on the ground. "Good riddance! Beat that poor girl yonder till she couldn't move sometimes."

The Chaplain paled but HE wasn't surprised, despite the recruiting posters, the uniform did not ensure decency in the wearer. Nodding to the Chaplain, and the tired personnel officer with them, he turned on his heel and started down the sidewalk, the woman Rae Jeanne fell into step next to him. He could feel the eyes from countless other households boring into his back and knew there was mingled grief for the woman in the house ahead of him, and joy that he was not walking down their sidewalk, in those hearts and minds. 

A young woman came out on the porch, long copper colored hair caught the late sunlight, drawing his eye, as did her wide turquoise blue eyes. Then he caught her movement as one hand gripped the rail tightly, and the other lifted in a universal gesture to caress and protect the child swelling her belly. 

"Awww SHIT!"

He didn't think he'd said it aloud but the woman next to him murmured, "Exactly Gunny" before she darted ahead of them. Reaching the young woman at the head of the stairs she hugged her fiercely, then whirled into the house, calling back over her shoulder -

"I'll put on the coffee pot."

# # # #

Although the furniture in the small room had clearly seen better days he thought the room itself was neat and clean enough that his own drill instructor would have approved it. As for the girl, for all that she was pale and strung tight as trip wire she was dry-eyed, never faltering in civility to them. Courageous little thing, he thought, seeing her nod acceptance of the Chaplain's quiet words of compassion. The only time she faltered, eyes going wide with sudden fear and her hand lifting to her belly again, was when Rae Jeanne came into the room carrying a tray heavy with coffee pot and mugs. Setting it down she interrupted -

"So tell me Chaplain, how long until she and the baby have to be out of housing?"

In all the visits he'd ever made to parents, wives and nowadays the occasional husband, he couldn't recall anyone ever asking THAT before, and it shocked him to realize he'd never given the matter a thought before this. Chaplain Moore deferred to the personnel officer who was clearly uncomfortable and wishing he was somewhere else.

"Rae Jeanne!" She scolded, "We'll be fine. I'm sure it'll all work out."

"The HELL it will!" She wagged a finger at the little red-head. "You're gonna drop that load in another few weeks and you and I both know you ain't got no place else to go girl!"

The P.O. admitted that two weeks was standard but that he and the Chaplain would ask for an extension until she found somewhere else to live, or until the baby was born. He thought about THAT and it left a sour taste in his mouth. She'd already admitted she was "just a housewife" somewhat shyly. So how was she going to go about finding a place, arranging the move...not to mention supporting herself and the baby. Death benefits weren't going to last forever.

By the time they were ready to leave his stomach was tied in knots. This little girl, who looked barely out of her teens, deserved better - better than a husband who beat her, got her pregnant and then died - who had failed in his duty and responsibility to her and to his child - and NOW, the service that had recruited him was going to kick her while she was down. He'd heard that old saw about 'If we wanted you to have a wife and family we'd have issued you one in boot camp' before, but it had never made him feel so angry and bitter as it did now. As she escorted them to the door he bent his head to tell her -

"I'll be back later Ma'am, to check on you. And if you need help, we can go over the details of the funeral. He's entitled to military burial."

She looked at him with gratitude and that was when he saw her eyes fill with sudden tears -

"Thank you Gunnery Sergeant," She peered at the name tag on his chest, "Rourke."

"Just 'Gunny' Ma'am."

"Thank you, Gunny." 

She dropped her head briefly, but then straightened and smiled at him and he noticed with a pang that one of her front teeth had been broken at an angle and never fixed.

# # # #

He came back near dusk, deliberately dressed in faded jeans and an old Colorado State sweatshirt, hoping to seem more human in civies. He'd stopped at the supermarket on his way...his mother having drilled into him at an early age than you 'never go calling empty-handed'. He wasn't quite sure what was appropriate though and spent half an hour wandering the aisles before settling on a bunch of daisies and a little rubber duckie for the baby that was coming. Paying for his purchases he thought, there was something about her that reminded him of the daisies - clean, pure and wholesome. He wondered if the baby would be a boy or a girl, if it would have her blue eyes and red hair or the darker coloration of it's father. The boy had been in his unit and aside from a quick temper had seemed okay. In hindsight though he could see there had been a tendency to bully. The military tended to ignore such behavior, knowing that sooner or later it would become self-defeating. While the Corps protected its own, the unit itself was more than capable of disciplining individuals...

The illustrious Rae Jeanne opened the door to his knock saying, "You got the wrong house, son!" 

Then, peering at him more closely in the waning light, she exploded in laughter.

"I'll be damned, Gunny!" Waving him in and gesturing at the flowers in his hand, she asked, "You come calling?"

At his flush she went on, "Don't get me wrong! She's gonna need a GOOD man, right quick...but hell, son, he ain't even IN the ground yet!"

He continued to stand in the doorway, uncertain whether Rae Jeanne was giving him her blessing for what he intended, or so protective of the little widow that she intended to drive him off. Finally seeming to make up her mind she grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him completely into the front room. When a call came from the kitchen, 'Rae Jeanne, who was it this time?', the black woman held a finger to her lips, hushing any incipient noise he might make. Still holding the front of his sweatshirt she tugged until he bent his head closer to her face.

"But you, by GOD, better be good to that little girl, you hear me, Gunny?"

He flashed a grin at her, suddenly looking far younger than his years, "Yes, MA'AM!", he whispered.

She shook her head, "Lord help us all! You keep smiling like that every woman on this block gonna be over here, panting after you! You ARE single I hope."

He wiggled his ringless hand in the air and she snorted, "Aw hell, plenty you fellas in the military don't wear no rings. That don't mean nuthin'."

"Means a LOT to me, Rae Jeanne." He whispered near her ear.

Just then a vision moved into the kitchen doorway. Wearing only a thin, white cotton gown, she looked like an angel with the light flowing around and behind her, shimmering off the hair flowing down her back and over her shoulders. The translucency of the cotton revealing more of her charms than it hid. He took a deep breath and his hand tightened on the rubber duckie so hard it squeaked. Rae Jeanne cut a glance at him out of the corner of her eyes, muttering -

"Lord help us ALL!" Then, more loudly, "Deedee, honey, look! That nice Gunnery Sergeant came back just like he said he would. Come see what he brung y'all."

The girl moved closer to him, the fresh scent of her hair and clean skin hitting him like a lightning bolt. She took the toy from him, showing her friend and squeaking it with delight. And the way she exclaimed over the flowers you'd have thought she'd never gotten flowers before...but then, he pondered, maybe she hadn't...

"Deedee?" he asked, somewhat blankly.

"Oh!" She blushed ('My God," he thought in amazement. Wondering when was the last time he'd seen a woman blush...) "Yes, most everybody calls me Deedee - Deirdre Delancy - D.D." 

She punctuated her speech with hand gestures - describing the "Ds" in the air so he'd get the reference. 

Rae Jeanne interrupted, taking the flowers to put them in water.

"What do we call you, Gunny? Or didn't your Mama give you a name before givin' you to the Corps?"

He grinned at the feisty little woman's backside, thinking her husband was a lucky S.O.B., before replying, "John Fitzgerald Rourke." Adding in explanation, "Mama was Irish Catholic. But you can call me 'Rocky'."

Her head popped back around the kitchen door jam but Dierdre beat her to the question, "Rocky?"

Feeling more at ease every minute and more confident about his decision he shooed Dierdre into the kitchen ahead of him -

"Short for 'Rocky Raccoon'. My D.I. caught me not paying attention in hand-to-hand and broke my nose - I got two black eyes...and after that..."

Dierdre giggled, putting a hand in front of her mouth to hide her broken tooth. He wondered just how deeply ingrained her low self-esteem was and how long it was going to take to get her to truly open up and blossom. And then he caught his breath again. If he'd thought the backlight from the kitchen revealed her charms, under the florescent glare her thin cotton gown did nothing to hide any of them either. Not being familiar with the pregnant female body he wasn't sure how much of what he was seeing was natural or due to her condition. Her nipples looked enormous - eraser sized points pressed against the lightweight gown. And the areolae were large as well, as big as teacups in a color neither brown nor pink but some dusky shade in between. He wondered briefly at what point her high, rounded breasts would begin to fill with milk...and what that would taste like when it occurred. 

As she walked across the room in front of him he realized that part of the apparent "waddle" seemed to be from her hips having spread. He found it charming to watch, recalling a "pet" duck in the barnyard of his youth, that walked in much the same way...usually followed by a string of charming, fluffy yellow ducklings and he lost himself in a brief daydream of "Dee" waddling through a store, or down the aisle of a church, followed by one or two ruddy haired, freckle faced toddlers...perhaps one with his ears...

Shaking his head briefly, attempting to return to the present, he noted how slender she was from behind. All of her apparent girth was carried in front, produced by the child within. Her ankles and wrists were so thin as to be termed "dainty", and he'd already seen how prominent her collarbones were.

Dee sat in the captain's chair at the head of the small table, throw pillows on the seat and against her back helping to cushion and support the extra weight she carried. The gown stretched thin and taut across her belly where her navel protruded and he felt a stirring, mentally, emotionally...and being honest with himself, a little lower. There was something so intensely feminine about her condition, but so dreadfully vulnerable about her circumstances...and remembering those he cleared his throat.

"Dierdre...Dee...I told you that Scott was entitled to a military funeral. Additionally there are survivor benefits, and an emergency fund that can help with any immediate needs you may have. Is there a funeral home you know that can help with visitation, or a church you'd rather use for a memorial service."

Her blue eyes were enormous now, swimming with unshed tears. Rae Jeanne patted her hand, saying -

"I can help with that. My church will be willing to have a nice service," smoothing the girl's hair now and brushing it back over her shoulder. "Don't you worry child, we'll see him done right by, for your sake. But now see here, Gunny, MY concern is what happens to these children after!"

God BLESS the woman, he thought, for giving him the perfect lead in for what he proposed...then shivered as his own words hit him viscerally.

"Ma'am," he stopped to clear his throat, "Rae Jeanne's filled me in a little on your circumstances, and I've done some checking on my own - and I KNOW you and the baby don't have anywhere to go, no family left..."

Now the tears brimmed over, spilling unnoticed down her cheeks and onto the gown. He tried not to notice how the moisture made the gown go transparent, focusing instead on fumbling for a handkerchief... 

"We want to make sure you're taken care of, Ma'am... I want to make sure." He knew he was botching the job, that she had no clue what he was trying to say, and his mouth was getting so dry he wasn't sure how much more talking he could do. He'd started with an idea of helping out someone in need for a few weeks or months until they could figure out what they wanted for their future...her future. But somehow, suddenly, he just wanted to take care of her...and the baby. For as long as they'd let him.

"Lord have mercy!" Rae Jeanne interjected, "DeeDee, this boy's asking you to marry him!" And turning to him, added, "There now. That's cut through all the crap!"

His head swam briefly, no going back now he thought. Then, seeing Dee go pale he remembered Rae Jeanne telling how her dead husband had beaten her, and said -

"Strictly platonic, Ma'am! You don't have to worry about me - I won't presume on you - but you'll have a Marine husband and they can't throw you out of housing then, and with the baby coming you'll have priority. I'll be going back overseas again before long so you can pretty much have things the way you want them..." 

From being unable to speak, he knew that now he was running off at the mouth, and Rae Jeanne looked like she wanted to hit him for some reason.

"Anyway Ma'am, Dee, if you'll have me I'd be proud to take care of you and the little one. You'll probably want him to keep his Daddy's name and that's fine with me. And when you're ready to take off and be on your own, just let me know and I won't stand in your way," although the thought that someday she might leave him was a knife in his belly. 

He admitted he knew next to nothing about her. Didn't know if she could cook, or....anything. But someone had planted the flowers in front, and hung the wind chimes. Someone kept the house so clean it was nearly spit-shined. And made do with little or nothing...the nightgown was one clue, as were the handmade curtains in the kitchen window. She had not said one bad thing about her dead husband and he assumed that she loved him, and that was why she had stayed despite the beatings.

Pity aside, he wanted to teach her tenderness. Looking at her he figured she probably already knew passion, but tenderness was another matter. He wanted to see her bloom into a self-confident woman and mother, the kind of fiery, feisty red-head his own Irish mother had been, and that her coloring and name indicated she might someday become. And in all honesty he wanted to plant his own seed in her belly and see her swell with his babies, nursing them at those full round breasts. 

She was sobbing openly now and with sudden fear he reached across the table, gripping her hand.

"Dee, if there's someone else you want, tell me. Or if you just want me to leave..."

"NO!" she gasped through her tears. "No, John. You honor me. I appreciate your offer - it's not necessary..."

Rae Jeanne snorted.

"But if you insist, then I'd be proud and pleased to be your wife."

"Good! That's settled then!" Rae Jeanne was grinning so fiercely you'd have thought she was responsible for the whole idea. But then, he thought wildly, maybe she is...as he struggled briefly to remember when and how the plan had first occurred to him. Then he had another thought -

"I should probably head back to the barracks," he announced. "I don't want to compromise you in any way - or cause people to talk..."

Rae Jeanne snorted again, interrupting with a wave of her hand, "People BEEN talkin', Gunny. You ask me, people around here gonna be relieved - even if they think this child been carryin' on w' you all along!"

Dee was starting to look like a fish out of water, gulping loudly and shaking her head. Rae Jeanne patted her belly, saying -

"You let ME, deal with what people around here think and say. I have to get home and check on those fool sons o' mine - make sure they're studying like their daddy wants. But Gunny, I think you better plan on stayin' here from now on. You two need to get to know each other and settle in together - and to tell the truth, it's been makin' me nervous, her bein' home alone and this close to her time."

She headed to the door, still issuing orders as she went out -

"I'll settle with the preacher tomorrow about the funeral, and about getting you two fixed as well. Ya'll better get your marriage license quick, that baby ain't gonna wait..."

# # # #

They continued to sit awkwardly, not making eye contact, after the door slammed behind Rae Jeanne. Finally she stood with a sigh and moved to lock the door.

"Here, Ma'am, let me get that for you."

She giggled then, an infectious sound that gave him hope for her future...and maybe for his as well. Locking the door she turned, one hand rubbing her low back and smiling ruefully.

"You're going to have to stop calling me, Ma'am, if you expect to marry me, John. Do you mind very much if I call you John?"

"No, Ma-," he gulped to a stop. "No Dee. Fact is, no one's called me John since my mother passed. I think I'd like it a lot. What do you want to be called? Do you mind me calling you Dee or Dierdre instead of DeeDee? Would you rather I called you something else? What did your husband call you?"

She paled at that, waving the question aside. 

"Dee is fine. Nobody's ever called me that before. Or Dierdre...." 

She continued rubbing her low back thoughtfully, and when they spoke again it was simultaneous.

"Can I get you...."

"Is your back...."