4 comments/ 6706 views/ 0 favorites Twelve By: pagrl I remember shopping for school clothing; we were so excited. We thought that we would be in different classes, but Mom arranged it so we would have the same kindergarten teacher. I don't remember much of the accident. I remember screaming and pain and blood; blood everywhere, on everything, on me. But none of it was mine. It was all Cheryl's. They say that she died instantly and didn't feel anything. At least, that's what everyone told me. But I remember. I saw her. She turned and looked at me. She seemed fine until she touched me, stopped my pain. I felt warm where her hand rested and saw her smile for an instant before she began screaming. Cheryl was the last thing I saw. Of course I remember. The dreams started soon after that. At first we were playing when an adult, sometimes man, sometimes woman, would come and take her away. The person always stopped and let Cheryl hug me and whisper something to me. I didn't understand how she could just walk away with that person. She abandoned me, made me use "I" not "We". At first, I would wake up screaming and crying. My twin, my other half, my soul was taken away night after night. Mom or Dad would wake me up and tell me that everything was okay. After I calmed down and was able to talk again, I would tell them what Cheryl told me. Sometimes it would be "The keys are in the couch" or "The money's in the library book." Other times it would be "Go to work late so you miss the dying man." I could feel their eyes bore into me, glaring at what little was left of my soul. Their voices filled with of placation and disbelief. In the beginning they'd say "It's just a dream. It is not real. We'll stay with you until you fall asleep." Later on, they were just quiet and left the room. I was in school when the dreams started coming in the day time. It wasn't only Cheryl telling me things anymore. I would See things that weren't really there or I would hear a voice telling me things. The adults thought I was upset because of the accident, but as my predictions came true again and again, they began avoiding me. It didn't take me long to stop telling people what I saw. By then, though, it was too late; I was the six year old town pariah. Parents would not let their children play with me. If I wasn't "that poor creature", I was jinxed and evil. Neither label provided me with any friends or laughter. So, now twenty years later, I make my money as "Madame Selena" telling women about their cheating boyfriends and creating small luck charms. I have done research into the occult to be more authentic. I had difficulty trying to find books that I could read. Eventually, though, I gained enough knowledge to control most of what I "Saw". My visions aren't always of death anymore. I have Seen a barren woman's beautiful, healthy son; the meeting of two soul mates; and the overcoming of adversity. I've become so proficient at "reading" the people who come into my salon that I hardly need to touch anyone anymore. It is better without touching; Death rarely shows himself to me without touching. Early one evening the bell on my door tinkled as a woman ran in. Her footsteps pounded on the carpeted ramp that led into the waiting area. She slammed the door shut so hard that the bell flung off and landed on my lap. The nylon of her parka crinkled loudly in my quiet salon. I had wanted to go home early, but a buck is a buck. "Child, what troubles you?" I wasn't that old, but life left me worn and spent. I felt closer to sixty than thirty. "I need a charm. Something to keep him away," she wheezed. She was obviously distraught. I could smell her perspiration underneath her lily of the valley perfume. I heard her stumble as her heel slid out from under her. "He's after me." She couldn't keep her voice steady, almost as if she was about to cry. As a motorcycle roared passed, she yelped with fright and thudded into the big window at the entrance. "Sweetheart, if someone is after you, you don't need a charm, you need the police. Here, use my phone." I started to pull my cordless phone out of the bag on the side of my chair. "You don't understand!" She grabbed my hand and I immediately "Saw" what terrified her. The full moon streamed into her living room. A church bell rang. One. A man with eyes like glass stared into ours. We felt something within us try to jump toward him, like two magnets pulling toward each other. Two. His hand reached toward our heart, his fingers like ice. A shiver ran through our body. Panic and desire fought within us. Bile rose in our throat. We tried to swallow and couldn't. Three. You called me heart to heart. He stepped toward us, barely a hair's breadth separated him from us. A feeling over a feeling. On our skin we felt his warmth, but inside our gut he was cold. Outside allure, within domination. Was I within or without? Four. Now it must be. He bent toward us. His lips traced paths of fire and ice over our neck. We gasped with pleasure (or disgust). Five. Our arms were paralyzed. Panic washed over us. There was no escape. We tried to run, but couldn't. Our limbs wouldn't obey. There was only him. Six. Just look into my eyes and tell me that you want me. We fell into his eyes. Seven. Against our will, our mouth opened. Slowly, laboriously, we inhaled . . . Eight . . . swallowed once. Then, our tongue, like sandpaper, rasped I want to be yours ... forever. Nine. He moved his mouth close to our ear, his breath sharp on our neck. His hand slid under our jacket, our shirt. His fingernails dug into our back as he pulled us closer. Ten. Tell me to do it. He held us close to him as if he could merge our bodies. Our mind awash in his masculinity and life. His lips felt molten on our neck. Eleven. Our eyes closed. Do it. There was pain and blackness. Twelve. "What the hell was that?" I could feel her eyes penetrate me. She grabbed my shoulders. The phone fell on the floor with a dull thud. Her breath smelled like stale coffee and spearmint over the stench of the grave. "Listen, lady, you came into my door. I don't know what you expected, but you are in more trouble than I've ever Seen." As she paced, her heels smacked into the commercial carpeting that lined my floors. "We need to change your future or you are going to die. Instead of biting your nails, you could do something constructive to change this." "My back was to you ... you can't see me ... how did you ...?" "I heard you spitting them on my clean floor. If you survive this, maybe I'll make you pay the cleaning lady this week. Now, who are you or should I just call you 'you' or 'sweetheart'?" I tried to lighten the atmosphere, but she was in trouble. I didn't know if she was going to see the waning moon. I was scared. Anytime I "Saw" someone's Death I felt pain. This thing that was after her made Death feel pleasant. I should have thrown her out the door and latched it, but I didn't. Ilene told me that she met this man at a club who was everything the romance novels talked about. He was tall, dark, handsome and swept her off her feet. They had a night of passion like she had never before known. He anticipated her desires and propelled her to places she never knew existed. He was gone in the morning, but he left a note that he would be back for her. Every night for the next several weeks he would suddenly appear. At first, Ilene thought this was romantic and allowed him to quench her lust. Soon the relationship was out of control. He started showing up at business dinners telling her that she was his and he would claim her soon. His gift, at first sweet, became disturbing Lilies, black roses, raw meat, a box of maggots. Ilene thought the meat strange, but the maggots sent her to the police. She didn't have enough information to fill out a restraining order: no address, no phone number, no real name -- not that a restraining order would stop this guy. She stayed with a friend. He found her. She called out of work and hid in the mountains. Still, he found her. She returned home one night, he was there and told her that nothing would stop him from having her. She ran to call the police; he commanded her to stop. Before she knew it, her body froze; her hand stretching for the phone. He walked to her; stood lips to lips for a moment then whispered in her ear, "I'll see you at the full moon and you WILL be mine." He bent down and kissed her neck. Before she could move again he was gone. Only his smell of overturned Earth remained. We worked well into the night researching and making charms. The full moon was tomorrow and I didn't have enough time. Ilene couldn't help with the research. She couldn't read my books. Instead, I had her sew pouches of colored fabric. When everything was done as well as we could, Ilene took me to her apartment. I performed a routine cleansing at her doorway and banged my way into her home. I gave Ilene a compass and told her to place the satchels we made in each of her rooms, except her living room. The green ones to the North; yellow East; red South; and blue West. I told her to take my jacket and go back to my shop. She would be safe there until tomorrow, even if I failed. Over the years, I created more layers of protection in my shop than I could count. I needed to succeed. As the bolt on her door slid into place I prayed, "Cheryl, please help me. Let me be right. If I am, everything will be okay. If I'm wrong, I'll be dead -- she will be worse than dead" By the time Ilene left and everything in her house was set up, it was nearly sunset. With the tight doorways and plush carpet, I couldn't get into her kitchen to get a beverage. Perhaps, this was how the universe told me to fast. I never held with fasting before, silly self denial. I was denied enough throughout my life, but today, I fasted and prayed. If God repaid everything he took from me by letting me succeed tonight, I would call us even. Thirsty and hungry, I waited. I put on Ilene's jacket, which was warm and soft. I hadn't slept since the night before I met Ilene. Even though I was strung out on fear, I fell asleep and dreamed. Cheryl was with me telling me to be careful. We cast an illusion charm. In my dream I became Ilene. I stood and held Cheryl close. "I love you," I told her, "but I'm not ready to join you." Cheryl looked at me and smiled, "Then don't mess up." I awoke with needles dancing on my spine. The sickly, sweet smell of rotting vegetation nearly knocked me to the floor. "You tried to keep me out, but you forgot to block the windows. You under estimated me. I told you, my love, you are mine." I was suddenly afraid. Instinctively I grabbed at the side of my chair wanting to bolt. "Don't bother getting up, Ilene, just look at me." As he came around the chair I turned my face, hidden in the hood of Ilene's jacket. Voicelessly, I re-cast the charm of illusion. I needed him closer and couldn't chance the charm ending suddenly. He had to believe that I was Ilene. His hand slid down my arm. I could hear his fingernails rustle the fabric of Ilene's jacket. He asserted such little pressure that his touch felt like a spider running on my arm. In the distance a church bell tolled. One. He slid his hand over the jacket. It rested over my left breast. The smell of rotting meat gagged me. I reflexively pulled back, stopped by the hard back of my chair. Two. "You called me heart to heart. " I could feel him getting closer. The cold from his body radiated toward me, penetrating the parka's warmth. Three. "Now it must be." His voice became louder as he bent toward me. I couldn't let him know it was me yet. I couldn't reach him. I tried to steady my ragged breath. Four. "You can't get away from me, my Love." I remained in my chair as still as a statue. My mouth felt like sand paper soaked in dirty sweat socks. Please don't let him realize that I'm not Ilene yet. Five. "Just look into my eyes and tell me that you want me." I felt his words on my face. His stench enveloped me, cleared my head. Six. I swallowed hard. Please. Let this work. I tried to speak. "What kind of idiot are you?" I croaked. He stepped back and stumbled into Ilene's coffee table. As he landed loudly on the floor, the glass table shattered. His spell breaking, I regained strength. "So much for the silent stalker." Seven. "Who are you?" He demanded. "You feel like my prey." His voice stabbed at me from the floor. His power ripped away my illusions. His charisma flowed no more -- the vile creature was revealed even to my paltry "normal" senses. Eight. "I can't believe you were tricked by such simple devices. I made a few simple charms and am wearing her jacket." My anger suppressed my fear and doubt. Nine. "You're supposed to be hundreds of years old; your kind superior than mankind." I fished into the bag on the side of my chair. My hand folded around my smooth, hard piece de resistance. Ten. "You don't stand a chance. I have power over your kind. Look into my eyes" His voice loomed over me. He must have stood. Pushing back the hood, I looked toward his voice. "You don't have power over me." Eleven. "I have dominion over all humans," he thundered as he grabbed my shoulders, pulling me face to face with him. His breathe assaulted me like something found in the back of the refrigerator. My glasses fell, I thought I heard them hit the broken glass. My wheelchair slid back as I plunged the stake into his heart. Its wheels crunching glass. Twelve. As I pulled myself into my chair, I told the pile of dust: "You don't have dominion over the blind, moron." Twelve Across This part of my day I could do blindfolded. My alarm goes off but I'm already awake, in fact I've been awake for at least two hours. Sleep has come hard for me for the last six months since I left hospital, if I get any more than two hours a night it's a bonus. I drag myself out of my warm bed and stagger into the kitchen where I prepare my breakfast of coffee, which I drink before heading to the bathroom where I'm confronted by my almost healed face that, along with my lonely bed, is a constant reminder of the day, almost a year ago when my world came crashing down around me. It was my fault, I'd been to my sister's birthday party and I'd had a few too many drinks. I had told myself that I needed them to ease the pressure of my work, of the investigation that I had just wrapped up after three months, that had sapped my physical and emotional resources. Julie, my long suffering Julie, had lived through the hell that I'd been going through in dealing with a wave of organised crime ranging from murder, rape and extortion, to drug labs that churned out massive quantities of crystal meth to supply the market desperate for a high. I had been told that I'd made enemies that were out to get me but I persisted until we were able, finally, to close the case and make several high profile arrests. Detective Chief Inspector Matthews, my boss, had suggested that I take some time out to recuperate before the trials, so Julie and I travelled interstate for my sister's party. My face staring at me from the mirror was accusatory, it yelled at me that if I hadn't become a cop Julie and I would have been safe. It yelled at me that if I'd been a normal beat cop Julie and I would have been safe. "Leave me alone!" I yelled back at the mirror. "I can't help what has happened, nothing will bring her back." We had left the party and Julie was driving, we were heading back to the hotel because there were too many people in Stef's house and no room for us. Julie had just turned onto the main road when a car pulled up beside us. Something made me look at the car and I could clearly see the pistol pointing directly at me, its barrel looked huge. Julie must have caught a glimpse of it because she slammed her foot on the accelerator. That move cost her her life, the bullet meant for me hit her instead. She was dead before the out of control vehicle crashed into the front window of a hardware store. A sharp metal tool of some description crashed through the windscreen and lodged in my skull. I was in a coma for three weeks and in intensive care for ten before being sent to a ward to 'recover'. My face was testament to the cosmetic surgeon's art, the scar had almost disappeared, and people no longer stared as I walked down the street. It was the scars inside that weren't healing. The self blame just would not go away. I was no longer employed as a detective although I kept that title and rank. The shrink decided that I should remain on duty doing menial tasks that the others just didn't seem to get time to do. Filing of evidence, court transcripts, closed cases to be filed in the archives, including the one that I had worked on, at least I didn't have to give evidence, I wasn't well enough and, even if I had been, I wouldn't have been able to be objective in my testimony. While my mind and body were kept busy the constant reminder of what had happened was eating at my insides. The other detectives were good about it, probably realising that if it hadn't been me that had copped it, it would have been one of them. I missed the after shift drinks because I now had no tolerance for alcohol and had given up drink, so I went home instead, home to my loneliness and my thoughts, home to my supermarket frozen dinners and coffee, always coffee, and, if I hadn't finished it in the morning, the cryptic crossword. Showered and shaved I left my house, an attached cottage in a row of identical attached cottages, and walked to the newsagents where I picked up a morning paper before calling into a cafe to top up my caffeine levels with a cup of take away, because it was so much better than the station muck. I passed the time of day with the desk officer before heading for my desk and my filing. Before starting I sat and skimmed through the paper until I reached the puzzle page and my crosswords. The regular one got my brain working in preparation for the cryptic. I had just started on it when the DCI came up to me. "Charlie, how are you feeling?" "Fine." I lied. "Good. I've been talking to the shrink and he suggested that we might look at easing you back into your old job with some undemanding types of investigations, and one has come up that I think will fit that description." "Oh?" "Yes. It's a break and enter at the Bookworm bookstore, do you know it?" "Yes, I know it well, I walk past it every day." "The owner, who lives above it, came downstairs this morning to find that it had been broken into and had been trashed. She hasn't finished checking but doesn't think anything has been stolen. I'd like you to go down and have a poke around and see if you can't get a line on who it was that could have done this. Do you think you can handle that?" Do I think I can handle it? I could do this without thinking; this is kids stuff so why is he getting me to investigate when uniform could easily do it? "Of course I can." I told him. I folded my paper and slipped it into my desk drawer, swallowed what was left of my now lukewarm coffee and grabbed my jacket. I was conscious of the eyes of my fellow squad members following me as I left. The Bookworm was as I remembered it, a small frontage to a long narrow store. There were shelves down each side wall and fixtures at right angles down the centre of the room. In the centre of the store was the cash desk, a large polished wood desk that wouldn't have appeared out of place in an executive office. The only concession to modernity was a computerised register, its screen seemingly at odds with its surroundings. The bookish woman, responding to the tinkling of the door bell, glanced at me as I entered and smiled as I walked toward her. "Miss Morgan, I'm Detective Sergeant Forbes. I understand that you had an unwanted visitor last night?" She stood up from her task of collecting the scattered books from the floor and held her hand out to me. "I'm pleased to meet you, I was expecting a constable, I feel important having a Detective Sergeant attend. I'm Samantha Morgan, I own this store, or what's left of it." I glanced at the books lying on the floor in front of empty shelves. "This is going to take a lot of work. I'd like to ask you a few questions before I have a look around. You sleep above the store, is this correct?" "Yes, I have a flat above. I find it convenient" "I would have thought that this would have made a lot of noise, how is it that you didn't hear anything?" "I'm a heavy sleeper, the tablet helps, once my head hits the pillow I'm dead to the world until my alarm wakes me at seven." "I'm envious, I can only manage a couple of hours." I mumbled. "Oh, I'm sorry, it's insensitive of me prattling on about how well I sleep. I recognise you, you're the officer that was badly injured about a year ago, you lost your wife, didn't you. Oh there I go again, prattling on, I'm sorry, forgive me, please?" "It's all right." Who was I kidding? Was I right in accepting this case? I suppose I'll just have to grin and bear it. "The most obvious reason for breaking into a shop is money, was there any stolen?" "Oh no, of that I'm positive, you see there is never any money left in the till over night, not even the float." "Float?" "The money that is in the till at the start of the day is called the float. I take the cash drawer out and store it in my safe upstairs along with the takings for the day." "Who ever did this obviously didn't know that, otherwise he would be tip-toeing up the stairs in the dead of night to rob you." "That sounds scary, maybe I should rethink my security." "That would be wise, sometimes even a small amount of money will satisfy your amateur criminal." "You believe this to be the work of an amateur?" "Yes, for a couple of very good reasons, the first is the target, this is a book store, not a high volume business so, even on the best days you wouldn't have enough money lying around to satisfy the professional crim. Secondly, a professional, finding no money, would normally slip off into the night leaving you unaware that he's even been here. Only a rank amateur would lose it and trash the place out of frustration." "I never thought of that, that's something that Miss Marple would have realised immediately." "A fan of Agatha Christie are you?" "In one way, yes. I find them formulaic and spend most of my time swimming through the shoals of red herrings looking for the sprat of a clue that will be revealed at the very end, and in doing so miss the whole raison d'être of the book, it is an entertainment designed to keep you amused as well as guessing. My current favourite is Ian Rankine." "Thankfully we're not all like Rebus." My mind went to the book lying on my bed where it had fallen out of my hand in the early hours of the morning. I bent and looked at the desk drawer, someone had taken what appeared to have been a large screw driver to it. "Was this drawer locked?" "No, I had no reason to look it, the cash drawer wasn't in it." "Our amateur didn't think to try it to see if it was open before attacking it. You have some damage that needs to be fixed." I pointed to the scar in the wood. "It's a shame, this is a fine piece of furniture, a good cabinet maker should be able to repair it so that you can't see the damage. I assume that your insurance will cover this and the loss of business due to this mess?" "I hope so, I've paid them enough money over the years and have never made a claim, I've never had to." "I noticed when I walked past here the other day, you had a book sale on over the weekend and a book signing on Saturday. Were you busy?" ""Not hugely busy, the author who was signing isn't well known , just a local writer starting out and he asked me if I'd help him promote his first novel. To be honest, he needs all the help he can get, it isn't that good." "So there would have been people milling around in here, did you notice anyone who looked out of place in your literary world?" "Yes, now that you mention it, there was one young lad who seemed to spend a great deal of time wandering around pretending like he was interested but I could see that he wasn't. I thought that he might have come in with someone else and was just bored waiting." "Could you give me a description of this person, height, weight, distinguishing features, you know the drill?" "He was about your height and a little heavier than you, he had several piercings around his face, ear-rings, a nose ring, a stud in his right eyebrow and one through his chin just below the lower lip. He was wearing torn jeans, faded blue and not very clean, a checked shirt under a denim jacket and he wore black boots. I did notice on his fingers he had letters tattooed, on the right hand he had l-o-v-e while the left had h-a-t-e." "Stir tats, it seems as if our lad had spent some time in his misspent youth in a Juvenile Detention Centre. Was his hair dark brown and spiky?" "Yes it was, now that you mention it. Do you know him?" "Oh yes, I know him. If it's who I think it is, and I'm sure it is, his name is Julian Greene, the latest in a long line of blaggards by the name of Greene, only one doesn't call him Julian to his face, he prefers 'Spike'. Of course proving his guilt may take some doing because he'll have dozens of relatives all prepared to swear on every Bible in the courts system that he was going about his honest business at the time that your shop was being destroyed." "But why would he choose me, my shop?" "Young Julian isn't the brightest of crims, neither is he the bravest. He'll look for a 'soft target' and you fit the bill. You won't find him pulling jobs where he might get hurt, he's a disappointment to the family." Samantha glanced at the clock on the back wall. "I'm just about to have a cup of coffee, would you like one?" "Yes I would, thank you." "How do you take it?" 'White and no sugar, and strong." She went through the door into a back room and I bent and picked up several books from the floor. Looking at the tags on the shelves I began stacking them where I thought they should go. I guess that I was so carried away with this simple enough task, after all that's pretty much all I'd been doing for the last six months, that I didn't hear her come back into the shop. "You don't need to do that, I'll do it, I have little else to do." "But you'll be here for days doing this. I'm offering my expert services as a filer to you. If you want, I'll drop in after work and give you a hand." Her curious eyes looked at me through her glasses, looking into me, searching for something. She must have found it. "I'd like that, thank you." From my side of her glasses I saw a woman deprived of any other than short term contact with the world of people, someone starving for a relationship. This surprised me because, under her bookish exterior was an attractive person, in her late twenties or early thirties who was desperately lonely, something that I was gaining experience at. I sipped my coffee and picked up a biscuit from the plate she'd put on the desk. "How long have you had this shop?" "It was my parents business. My father was an academic and started this business to give my mother something to do after I began school. She had been a teacher but, although she loved teaching, she felt that the education system had changed so that freedom of expression had taken over from a more balanced curriculum of academic skills combined with life skills. Her heart was no longer in it and it was affecting her outlook on life. This shop was something of a consolation prize. She loved it." "What about you, I would have thought that you'd have gone to university and a career?" "Oh I did. I was in my second year at Uni when my father died suddenly. He had a massive heart attack while giving a lecture and by the time the paramedics had arrived it was too late, they said that he was probably dead before he hit the ground. My mother never really got over the loss. I gave up my studies to help her and to keep her company. I think it was the company she missed most. She died within months of my father and I stayed on in the shop." "If you don't mind me asking, you've never had much of a social life, have you?" It was almost as if she'd been waiting for years for the opportunity to unburden her innermost feelings. "No I haven't. I was brought up a good Catholic girl, you know, saving myself for my husband and the wedding bed. Abstinence from any form of sexual contact because the nuns told me that was what God expected of me, and I believed them. While I was at Uni I had some very good male friends but none of them ever got to the point where I would have had to refuse their sexual advances, and after I came back here I never seemed to have the opportunity to meet anyone that I could get close to." "You aren't in any clubs or interest groups?" "No I'm not. I've always felt uncomfortable about finding myself in new and strange situations and meeting new people. I have no self confidence outside of my comfort zone." "And your comfort zone is here, on your own, with the occasional very short term contact with people." It was a statement, not a question. She looked closely at me. "You have a very good interrogation technique, do you know that? I have told you more about myself in the last five minutes than I have ever told anyone, and I've never felt as if you were interrogating me. Do you always get people to relax so that they'll open up to you?" "No, much of the time it is closed questioning because we don't have the time to use the 'softly, softly' approach, we usually know the answer and by asking closed questions we limit the opportunity that the crim has to confuse the issue. On the other hand, I find that, when I want to get to know someone, really know them, a process of open questions and allowing the other person to expand on their area of expertise by me making statements that are almost, but not quite, right, with the odd closed question thrown in to direct the flow of conversation that allows the person to volunteer information is very effective." "And you want to get to know me?" "Yes I do. I'm stepping way out of line here, but I have found you to be a very attractive woman. There is something about you that interests me, probably because you and I are similar in so many ways, we have closeted ourselves away from personal contacts and, if you're anything like me, it is a world that holds few attractions for me. I've been looking for a way out of it for some time." "I can understand that, we've both suffered the loss of loved ones and have not had the motivation to get over it." "You like crosswords, don't you?" "Where did that come from? Yes I do." "I noticed the paper in your drawer was open at the puzzle page and you'd started the cryptic. In my top drawer at work is a paper also open at the puzzle page and a started cryptic crossword." "I'm impressed. You don't miss much, do you?" "I try not to. I get off work at five, I'll see you as soon as possible after that. Do you want me to bring something to eat?" "No, the least that I can do is to feed you. I'll see you then." It was with a new vitality that I strode back to the station, I wasn't even thinking about talking to Spike and his family until I almost bumped into him and his mother, the redoubtable Beryl Greene. "Spike, a word in your shell like." "Sergeant Forbes, they've let you out have they?" "Yes, I'm free to wander at large solving all sorts of major crimes, which brings me to the subject at hand, where were you in the wee hours of this morning?" "He was at home tucked up in bed like the good boy that he is Sergeant Forbes." "I thought as much, how could I have ever gotten the idea that this innocent young man would have broken into the Bookworm bookstore and trashed it?" "I don't know, how could you have?" "Maybe it was the fact that you had been in there during the day casing the joint as they say. Not very well I might add, take it from me, if you want to case a place dress like you were meant to be there. You didn't notice the sign on the door that said 'no money kept on premises', did you?" "We all know that they're there so that you don't think that there is money kept there." "In this case it was true, wasn't it?" "Yeah, I mean, how would I know? You can't prove anything and I have an alibi." "I wouldn't have thought otherwise. Keep your nose clean or you'll have me to answer to." "You can't touch me." "Come along Julian, let Sergeant Forbes do his duty." "Spike Mum, my name is Spike." He followed her up the road. "How did it go?" The DCI asked as I sat down at my desk. "I know who did it, but getting proof will take some doing, breaking down the ramparts of fortress Greene is an almost impossible task." "Good luck, but don't obsess over it, understand?" "I won't, there are more interesting things in this world than seeing some young thug behind bars." I took my crossword from the desk and looked at the next clue. I hadn't got much further with it when I finished for the day. It seemed as if everyone in the squad room had advice as to the best way to solve the major crime that I was investigating. I had several offers of assistance and encouraging words from them. At five past five I tapped on the closed door of the Bookworm and Samantha got hurriedly to her feet to let me in. "It's good to see you again. I can't keep calling you Sergeant Forbes, can I?" Twelve Across "No. My name is Charles, always Charles, never 'Charlie' or, God forbid, 'Chuck'. Do you prefer Samantha or 'Sam'?" "I don't really know, no-one has ever called me Sam, but when you did it seemed to fit." "Well, Sam, where do I start?" "What I've been doing is to gather a pile of books and stack them on the desk, that way I'm not bent over or squatting all the time. Once I've sorted them into order I can then stack them more easily back on the shelves. I've just about finished the fixtures, there's only the one at the back to go, and then it's the side shelves." "Let's get to it then." I bent down and gathered a pile of books and carried them to the desk. Several trips later we were sorting them, they were reference books, into piles by subject and author. Working together seemed so natural for us and we got through the stacks quickly, carrying them to the shelves, they were stacked in no time at all. "Time for a break. I hope that you like lasagne?" "Love it." I did actually, I wasn't just saying that. "That's good. I have to tell you that it's one of the few dishes that I can cook. It was my speciality at Uni, once a week was lasagne night." We walked up to her flat and I was looking around. "The bathroom is through that door, you can wash up in there." She pointed to a door on the right of the short hallway. I washed my hands and joined her in the kitchen. "Would you open that bottle of wine, I assume that you drink wine?" "I don't. I haven't since Julie died." I was almost ready to walk out of there. "There I go again. I should have asked if you wanted a wine before telling you to open the bottle." "It's alright. It's just that I blame my drinking for her death. If I hadn't had too much to drink she wouldn't have been driving." "But if you'd been driving you both would probably still have been killed. The car would still have crashed even if you were the driver." "But she was the driver and I survived, that's the difference." "You can tell me to mind my own business and you can probably walk out and I won't blame you, but I feel that I have to say this. I've read up on what happened that day and the guys that shot and killed Julie weren't about to let her survive even if they killed you outright. They just don't leave witnesses. If there hadn't been people nearby they would have walked into that hardware store and finished the job. And as for blaming the drink, the same thing applies, they were out to get you and, drunk or sober, you weren't going to get out of it alive. I think that you should just thank your lucky stars that you managed to survive. The initial reports weren't confident of a successful outcome for you, it was believed that, even if you pulled through you would never fully recover. You had significant brain damage. You have made a remarkable recovery, don't throw that away now." "On the outside maybe. But there is still a lot of healing to do inside." "Yes there is, and it will always be there while ever you continue to blame yourself for this. It wasn't your fault. You were doing your job and doing it well. That's not your fault. You were dealing with men who have a totally different concept of how we live to you. That's not your fault. The fact that they decided to eliminate you so that you couldn't give evidence against them in court, that's not your fault. What you achieved was that men who committed those major crimes, who killed many people who got in their way, who put many lives at risk with their drugs, were tried and found guilty of their crimes, was down to you and your efforts, your belief in doing the right thing. That is something that you should be proud of." "You should talk to my bathroom mirror, it tells me the opposite, it tells me that it is all my fault." "I think that I'm going to have to go around to your place and smash that mirror." She had poured herself a glass of wine. She passed it over to me. "Would you like a sip?" I was about to refuse but her words had sunk in, I had been beating myself up over what had happened. I took the glass and sipped the wine and memories of a time past flooded back. "I like that, will you pour me a glass?" By the time the lasagne was finished so too was the bottle and I wasn't drunk, and I wasn't hanging out for another drink. What I was hanging out for was the company of this wonderful, insightful, woman who sat opposite me. We finished our meal with coffee and I helped her with the dishes before going into the living room where we sat side by side on the sofa and watched the TV news followed by something else. I didn't want to go and I didn't want to stay and stack more shelves because there would be no reason for me to come back tomorrow night if we finished them. I stood up. "I think that I'd better be getting along, I don't want to keep you up too late, and there is still a lot to do downstairs." "Do you really have to go? I wish you could stay a little longer, I've really enjoyed having you here tonight, with me." She stood in front of me, very close in front of me, I could feel her warmth. I wanted to stay but I couldn't. I was afraid, not of her but of me. I was afraid of taking the step toward a relationship with this woman only to have it end the way my marriage did. Samantha stood on her toes and kissed me with much more passion than I would have expected from a good Catholic girl who was saving herself for her husband. "I can't stop you from going but I can give you something to bring you back. And I haven't been to church for years." "I'll see you tomorrow then." How did I get those words out so calmly, when my heart was racing? I spoke to members of the Greene family separately during the next day and got conflicting alibis. His mother, Beryl, confirmed that Julian had been in bed all night, at least from ten when the movie on TV finished. She couldn't tell me the name of the film. A girl called Trudy who claimed to be his girlfriend claimed that they had spent the night together in her flat. She stated that they had sex many times during the course of the night, 'He's a bull in bed, Spike is, I'm still sore.' She couldn't provide any intimate details that would corroborate her statement, like the size of his penis, other than it was 'huge'. Spike wasn't that well endowed and was the butt of jokes at school, which probably explains a lot. His father, Fred, and Uncle Teddy, both swore that he was helping them in their entirely honest furniture removal business. They couldn't give me the address of the place that the furniture came from or was delivered to. Which of these alibis, if any, was right? Samantha looked different when she opened the door to me. It wasn't just her hair that was now loose and fell over her shoulders, it wasn't the clothes that were more casual, or was it that she wore makeup when she hadn't yesterday, it was her eyes, they weren't hiding behind her glasses. "Hello, I'm glad you could come." She stepped aside for me to enter. As she closed the door and pulled down the blind that had 'CLOSED' printed on the other side, I reached out and placed my hand on her waist. She turned and came into my arms, her arms around my neck and her lips seeking mine and hungrily devouring them. This was not the way that the nuns taught young ladies to behave. "Wow, that was some welcome. What brought that on?" "You, you brought it on. I couldn't sleep last night and what was going through my head was you, and none of the thoughts were the kind of thing that I'd been taught. They were so far from pure that it shocked me and, for the first time in my life I masturbated, and in another first, I had an orgasm, or at least it fitted the description in the books that I've read" "You haven't had much experience sexually have you?" "No, I'm ashamed to admit that, at the ripe old age of twenty-nine, I'm a virgin." The way that she said it had no shame, disappointment maybe, but no shame. "What allowed me to get to sleep was my decision to ask you to be the man who takes my virginity from me. I tried to imagine what it would be like but I must have drifted off to sleep while I was thinking about it. I have no idea what it will be like or what I have to do, you'll have to show me." "I'm having trouble getting my head around this. I meet you yesterday and, while I enjoyed your company last evening, I never thought that it would come to this. I'm flattered of course, but I'm wondering if you've thought this through properly, it is a major step for you to take." "It was our conversation last night that led to this. You have been beating yourself to death with your negative thoughts about what has happened in your life, and I realised that I'd been doing the same thing for years. It is time to stop thinking about our lives and do something about them. You need someone in your life, not to replace Julie, that can never happen, but someone who will love you and be your companion, to fill the void that her death left in your life. I need someone to replace my parents in my life, not parents, that's not possible, but when children leave home they're not looking for parents but for someone to fill the next phase in their lives, a husband or wife to be a companion and lover." "Why have you chosen me?" "I believe that a higher authority has chosen you to be my lover and companion. Think about it, if I hadn't had an unwelcome visitor you wouldn't have come to see me. You didn't have to volunteer to help me, because that's not in your job description. We didn't have to pour our hearts out to each other, and if we hadn't we wouldn't have realised, at least I wouldn't have realised, that you and I are the best people to fill the void in each other's lives." "You've obviously given it a great deal of thought. Where do we go from here?" "Come with me." She took me by the hand and led me upstairs. She didn't need to take my hand, I would have followed her regardless. She led me into the living room that was different from last night, the lights were dimmed, there was a scented candle burning on the coffee table and soft music wafted from the stereo. She had been prepared. She came into my arms again. "I've set the scene, it's now up to you, I am in your hands." This time her lips were soft against mine. I kissed her lips, her throat, her eyes, she must have contacts in tonight, and back to her lips. My tongue pressed against them and she opened them to allow access. It was all very gentle, I was in no hurry to proceed to the next phase although I could feel the passion rising in her, she began to moan softly into my mouth. My hand found the buttons of her blouse and opened them, as my hand slipped around her body she pushed herself hard against me. I caressed her bare flesh for several minutes and she surely must have been able to feel my hardened cock against her thrusting body. Her bra strap fell to my fingers and her breasts, now no longer confined in their lace bondage, reacted to my kisses, her nipples hardened under my tongue. I felt a hand on my cock, caressing it through my trousers, squeezing it almost to the point of pain. I slipped her blouse and bra from her body and admired her, her breasts were firm and stood proudly from her chest, I realised that I was probably the first person other than her to see them. I slid the zipper of her slacks down and they dropped to the floor revealing a pair of lace panties, not what I'd expected. I dropped to my knees in front of her and lowered them to the floor before burying my face in her. My tongue found her pussy and a gasp escaped from her, "Oh my goodness, oh that feels so good." Her hands held my head to her. "Oh no, oh yes, oh my God!" Her body shook for a long time. "Oh God that was so much better than my finger. Come with me." She led me into her bedroom, it too had low lighting and scented candles, the bed covers had been turned down in readiness. She began to undress me, fist the jacket and tie, then my shoes and socks followed by my trousers and underpants. Freed from its confines my cock sprang to life, standing out from my body like some cannon, primed ready for action. A voice from down there said, just before she took me into her mouth, "I read somewhere that most men like to have the women suck on his cock." Her technique wasn't all that good to begin with, she took his head into her mouth and just sucked it, so I put my hand behind her head and pushed him deeper into her mouth and then pulled him out. She got the message and was soon sliding back and forth on him. I was about to come when I decided that to shoot a load into her mouth just now might not be a good thing, so I withdrew him lifted her to her feet. I lifted her up and lowered her onto the bed and began kissing her, starting from her mouth and working down until I reached her pussy once more. An orgasm later I was ready to try my cock in her pussy. "This might hurt a little, I'll be as gentle as I can." "I know you will. Don't worry I've read all about the hymen and how it hurts the first time and it bleeds as well, I want you to do it so much that I'm prepared to put up with any pain." I was as gentle as I could be, but that was hard because she kept pushing down on him trying to force him deeper inside her before I was ready for the breakthrough. When it did come she gave a short sob and her arms closed tighter around me. "Wait a moment, I want to feel him all the way inside me." I left him as deep inside her body as I could for several minutes, I was enjoying it probably as much as she, it had been a while after all. When I began to move him in her body she began to move in synch with me, slowly gathering pace until we both reached our climax. This was near to a perfect sexual experience as I could remember. Her lips found mine and didn't leave them for many seconds. "My darling Charles that was everything that I imagined it would be. I want more of the same, I want you to make love to me forever, I want to love you and I want us to have the most extraordinary love life. I'm not asking you to marry me, just be the best lover for me." "All that I can think about right now is just how good that was, it's as if we were made for each other. As for the marriage thing, I think that your Catholic upbringing might get in the way, so before you say anything, let me tell you this, I can't think of anyone that I'd rather have as a wife, having said that, I want us to be absolutely sure that we want this before we take that next step. If for some reason we decide against marriage I want there to be no regrets." I didn't go home until the next morning to shave and put on clean clothes. I, we had showered after an almost sleepless night of loving, I lost count of the number of times we'd come together, she was insatiable, always wanting more of him and me until we collapsed, exhausted sometime after midnight. As I walked into the squad room, my paper under my arm and coffee in my hand, I was subjected to all sorts of comments like, 'you look different somehow', to one that was close to the mark, 'looks like someone might have got laid last night.' I sat down, I guess I had that satisfied look on my face that said that I was happy, not obvious of late, and sipped my coffee as I leafed through the paper. "How're things going, with the investigation, that is?" The DCI was standing next to me. "Fine, I have several alibis from the Greene family as expected, none of which match any of the others, as expected, all I have to do is decide which if any, is the truth. Apart from that it's going fine." "And the other thing, you're coping with the job?" "I'm coping better than expected, it's given me a new lease on life, I've been helping Samantha tidy up the mess." "Samantha is it, not Miss Morgan? I hope you're not moving too quickly, I wouldn't want to see you hurt." "No chance of that." He left me to the crossword. I had worked out a few of the clues when my phone rang. "Detective Sergeant Forbes." "My, don't you sound formal? Hi Darling, have you had a chance to look at today's crossword?" "Yes, I've just started." "Have a look at twelve across and tell me if it reminds you of something." I looked at the clue; 'Policeman subtracts from praise. (10 letters)' Policeman is usually 'cop' not subtract is add, praise is adulation, take 'ad' away and you have 'ulation', stick the cop on the front of it and you have what Samantha and I had done all last night, 'copulation'. I chuckled and heard her chuckling on the other end of the line. "I thought you'd like that, and I want more of the same tonight." "Only tonight? I want it forever." Twelve and a Half Hours /* Author's Note: I realize that it's been a while since I've posted anything or been active on the site, but hey, what can I say? I've this and one other to leave for your perusal. No promises of when, but I'll have more again, sometime. Everyone's over eighteen and the story is entirely fictional. Thanks for reading - Tyzmartar */ ***** Mark ran across his sister on the stairs. For once, she was in a dress and actually looked presentable. "What's up? Is there some kind of nerd convention tonight that you've been asked to speak at?" "Don't be an ass. For your information, there's a dance tonight and I have a date and he's going to be here any minute," she retorted, quite proud of herself. "Well, congratulations. I never thought I'd see the day. Do you want any advice, or do you think you've read enough trashy romances to get you through the night?" "Didn't I already say not to be an ass? It's none of your business what I read for fun, and I don't think that I'd ever want any of your advice. What are you doing home on a Saturday night, anyway? Did Amy finally come to her senses and dump you?" Heather asked. "Fine, take your chances. I don't have time to explain the birds and the bees, anyway. I'm heading over to Amy's right now, and unlike you, I expect more action tonight than a slow dance." When Mark left the house, Heather was on the front porch swing and it was just becoming dark outside. When he came back home, it was past one in the morning and Heather was on the front porch swing. He enjoyed picking on her about being a nerd and having more interest in fictional men than actually dating a real one, but he really hoped that she hadn't been sitting there the whole time, waiting for a date that never came. He parked and walked up the steps to the porch. "So, you tear it up on the dance floor tonight?" "Keep walking, Mark, I'm not in the mood." She didn't sound all that upset, but her answer told Mark about all that he needed to know. He sat down beside her on the swing. Heather didn't bother to turn her head to look at him. "Please just leave me alone." "I'm not saying anything. I'm just gonna sit here." "Fine. Just sit there, then. I don't want to hear you tell me how no boy will ever want to go out with me because I care more about books than I do people. I don't want to hear about all of the 'action' that you get and the best that I can do is a slow dance. I didn't even get that, Mark. Are you happy? He never came. I never danced with anybody. Ever." Her tone was flat and hollow. Mark didn't like it at all. "I'm sorry." "I bet. I got a text from Anne. David was at the dance with Sabrina. My best friend, Sabrina. Got a couple of pictures, too. Looked like they were having fun. Everybody knew that I was going with David. Or at least thought that I was going with David. They're going to laugh at me. They're all going to laugh at me, Mark." "Some of them might laugh at you, but they're assholes. They'd just laugh at someone else if they weren't laughing at you. This David must be a real douche-bag to do something like that. He doesn't deserve to go out with you, anyway. I don't know what to tell you about Sabrina, maybe he tricked her or something." Heather scoffed. So much for her brother just sitting there being quiet. He at least was trying to be nice. "If anything, she probably tricked him. She's slept with half the guys in our class, why couldn't she at least leave me a chance with the only one that has ever shown any interest in me?" "And she's your best friend?" "Not any more. I can't believe that she would do something like this to me. He probably would have gone with me if I promised to spread my legs for him." "Sometimes you just get fooled. It hurts like a bitch, but it doesn't last forever. I know I've said a lot of rotten shit to you, but you know I never really mean any of it. You've got to believe me when I say don't do that. Don't sleep with a guy for any other reason than you really like him and you think that it's the right thing to do. All guys are horny, you know that just as well as anyone else. It's not like you couldn't get laid if you wanted to. You've obviously been waiting for the right guy. There's nothing wrong with that at all. Don't go turning into a slut just because you got stood up. If this guy was idiotic enough not to want you for who you are, then you need to leave him alone. High school might seem like your whole life right now, but in a couple of months it will be over. Then, like the rest of the world is your whole life. Sure, there's plenty of guys like David out there, but there's also a lot of guys out there that would be right for you. Just be who you are or you'll end up feeling a whole lot worse than you do right now." Heather didn't respond right away. She finally turned to look at her brother. "Are you sure that's you in there, Mark? I could swear that you actually made a little bit of sense. I'm not fully convinced that you really know what you're talking about, but I think that I might feel a little better." "Imagine that. Want to come inside with me? Mom and Dad are probably flipping out wondering why you aren't home." Heather and Mark rose from the swing and he opened the door for her. "Oh please, Mom and Dad haven't stayed up past eleven since I was still riding a tricycle. How was Amy?" she asked. "Heh, I'm guessing a little pissed. We ordered a pizza and a movie. I fell asleep right after it started, so I really didn't talk to her all that much. She was her bedroom by the time I woke up, with the door locked, so I just came home." Heather looked at her brother with an incredulous sideways glance. "I know, not real smooth, but what can I say? It was a terrible movie. Vampires put me to sleep." "That's not what I expect to hear from Mr. Action. Vampires are getting a bit tiresome these days, though." Mark kicked off his shoes onto the mat while Heather removed hers and picked them up before they began climbing the stairs to their respective rooms. "Yeah right. If a new Twilight book came out tomorrow you'd be on your knees begging me to take you to the book store." Heather grinned. "Like you even know where that is." "I've driven by it a few times. Try and get some sleep and I'll see you in the morning, okay? Maybe we can hang out. You can explain to me why all dorks wear glasses or why classical music is so lame or something." Heather had played the violin since she was a little girl and had long been used to her brother complaining about it. Tonight, it didn't bother her at all. "Sure." Heather opened the door to her room and looked back over her shoulder at her brother who was entering his on the other side of the hall. "Thanks, Mark. " He just smiled at her and slipped into his old bedroom. Heather closed her door behind her and removed her dress. Part of her wanted to rip it to pieces, but she thought better of it. It was expensive and no one except Mark had actually seen her in it; it was still possible that she would be able to wear it again if she ever got a fancy date. Her conversation with her brother left her feeling like it could still happen one of these days. She hung it up in her closet and checked herself out in the mirror before putting on her pajamas. Nothing special there. She was neither tall nor short, fat nor skinny, her hair was dark and straight, not full, not thin. Her breasts were barely large enough to fill out her training bra. She couldn't see a single characteristic that would make her stand out among any of the other girls. Average at best. Definitely nothing like any of those tarts she saw prancing around on television. She sighed as she slipped on her PJ's and crawled into bed. It was tough to try and keep the sadness from creeping back into her thoughts as she flipped out the lights. ***** Heather was a little late making it to the breakfast table the next morning, but the rest of her family was still there. She had a feeling that Mark may have mentioned something about being stood up because neither of her parents said anything about the dance. Or, it was just as likely that they had forgotten that she had planned on going to one. Just as well either way, she didn't feel like explaining what had happened. Pity from her parents would only make her feel worse. "I got a phone call this morning that I'm sure will make you all happy. The landlord said that my apartment's ready," Mark announced. He had only been staying back at home for a few weeks since there was a fire in his building. He had been kicked out temporarily while the damage was repaired and a bunch of new wiring was installed throughout the structure. He wasn't there at the time that the fire had broken out and as luck would have it, none of his possessions were affected by it. "That is good news. I'm sure the refrigerator will appreciate it," his father remarked. "Nonsense, Bill. Mark, you're welcome to come home and eat any time," his mother said. "Thanks Mom, glad to hear that one of you cares." "I thought we were going to hang out today," Heather said. Her mother gave her a skeptical look. "You're going to hang out with your brother?" "We still can. You like to carry things don't you? You can come back to the apartment with me and help set the place back up. I'll show you how a real man lives," Mark said. "I don't know about that, but you can show me how you live. I'll help." Heather replied. She had never actually been inside of her brother's apartment. She knew where it was but that was about it. "Brave girl," Bill said. "Oh, don't let him scare you. My place is awesome." "When it's not on fire. Or when the gang members aren't shooting at each other," his mother commented. She clearly did not like Mark's building. "What do you say, Heather? There's hardly ever a gang war on Sundays. If my T.V. is still there we can watch some football." Lucky for Heather, her brother didn't have all that much to move back. Just a couple of boxes and a few bags of clothing. They had his car loaded and were soon walking up the stairs to Mark's apartment. Despite what their mother had said, the place didn't appear to be that bad, from the outside at least. "So what exactly happened here, anyway?" she asked. "There was some sort of a short circuit in the basement that started a fire in the walls. The city made the landlord rewire the whole place." "'So what did they do to yours?" "Well, we're about to find out. I was told that they were going to have tear the walls apart in places, maybe replace some of the fixtures. Things like that," Mark said, putting his key in the lock. They went inside and he flipped on the lights. "Hey, the lights work." Heather set the bags that she was carrying down. "This isn't bad, Mark. It's kind of nice, actually." It did look pretty good. It wasn't a large apartment, single bedroom, living area, kitchen, and bathroom. The walls and ceiling had fresh coats of paint and looked professionally done. All of his furniture and things that he had left behind were in the center of each room and covered with plastic. "Looks better than it did before, that's for sure." They spent the rest of the morning putting the place back together. Heather felt a little weird at first, going through all of her brother's things. When they were younger he would always throw such a fit whenever she even stepped foot into his room that it felt sort of forbidden. "I'm not going to find something I don't want to in here, am I? Like a box of pornos or girl's underwear or anything like that?" she asked. "Naw, I keep all my porn in my bedroom closet. I am missing a bottle of lube, though. Stuff's expensive. Keep an eye out for that," he replied while reconnecting his entertainment center. "That's gross, Mark. You're kidding right?" "Yeah, I'm kidding. It's not really that expensive. Let me know if you find it." Heather just shook her head and resumed putting her brother's stuff back more or less where it belonged. She had long ago grown accustomed to his crudeness. Before the morning was over, most everything that had to be done was done and they were carrying wads of plastic out to the dumpster. "Do you think you've worked hard enough to earn lunch yet? I know I have. Do you have to get back home or can I take you out to get something to eat?" he asked. "I don't have any plans. I thought you might be wanting to invite Amy over for your grand reopening, though." "I just spent like every day last month with Amy. We deserve a day off once in a while or we'd probably end up killing each other." They went to a little diner that wasn't far away from the apartment. After ordering, Heather decided to continue the discussion about Mark and his girlfriend. "So how did you know that you first liked Amy?" she asked. "Well, I met her at a party that one of my friends were having. We ended up being partners in a game of pool and just kind of hit it off." "Did you think that she was prettier than all of the other girls? I mean, what made you pick her?" Mark was being as patient as he could with his sister, realizing that relationships were something foreign to her. Not to mention a sore subject. "Of course I thought she was pretty. I wouldn't say that she was the prettiest of them all, I just liked her. She was easy to talk to and seemed to like me." "Do you think that you'll get married?" Mark took a bite of his newly arrived burger. "Maybe, but I doubt it." "Why not? Don't you love each other?" "Heather, it's complicated, okay?" He was becoming a bit frustrated at the line of questioning. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get so personal." Mark could see the disappointment come across her face. She was obviously more than a little interested in his love life. "All right, I'll tell you, for purely educational purposes. This is just between you and me, though. Don't go blabbing to Mom and Dad." She immediately brightened. "I won't tell, they don't talk to me much, anyway." Sadly, what little she knew of first-hand romance she had learned from her friend Sabrina, and she doubted that she would be talking to that slut any time soon. "Okay. Amy and I are really close but I think that we're more what you would call 'comfortable with each other' than actually in love. I thought that we were in love once, or close to it, anyway. These days I kind of get the feeling that we're more or less just keeping each other company until something else comes along. If I had to guess, I'd say that we probably aren't going to last much longer. I mean, I love her, but I don't think she really feels the same way any more." "I'm sorry, Mark. How do you know if you're in love or not?" He shrugged his shoulders. "That's a tough one. I don't have a good answer for that. I think that I'm in love with Amy, but I don't know if I'm totally in love with her or not. I always thought that when it happens, then I would just know. I know that I haven't ever been more in love with anyone than I am with her right now. And I know that I just did a terrible job of trying to explain it to you." "But you've come close to being totally in love, though. That's more than what I can say," she said. "Whoa, now. You've got to start out with a couple of dates first before you go falling head over heals. And don't go thinking that you're in love with someone just because some boy makes your panties tingle." "Mark!" she exclaimed with a giggle. "I'm serious. Sex is a powerful motivator, it really messes with your feelings, not to mention your common sense. You can get a guy to do or say just about anything if he thinks he's gonna get laid. Just because you have sex with someone doesn't mean that they love you, hell, it doesn't even mean that they'll call you back the next day." "I get it, guys like sex. Girls like sex, too, you know." "Oh I know. Don't get me wrong, sex is a wonderful thing. You don't have to marry somebody to enjoy it. It's great if both people know that they want it. I just don't want to see you get tricked into sleeping with someone because they promise you the world. Just keep your eyes open and know what you're getting into. Once you start going to college in the fall you're gonna run into some guys that really know how to charm a girl's pants off." Heather thought that the idea getting her pants charmed off seemed rather pleasant. Casual sex wasn't something that she was afraid of. She was more afraid that the opportunity may never present itself. "I don't think I'll have to worry about getting tricked into having sex. It wouldn't take much, really." "Heh, I know how you must feel. It'll happen, Heather. Whether you believe it or not, you're a beautiful girl. You're probably just a little under the radar because you've been hiding behind the honor roll and don't dress like a whore. And I'm not saying that because I think you need to change the way you dress, please don't." She smiled a little at the 'beautiful' comment. She wasn't sure that he really meant it, but she appreciated it, nonetheless. "You can be sweet when you get serious. So,when did you, you know, do it the first time?" Mark sighed. He figured that he might as well tell her since they were already mired deep in the whole sex conversation. He just never would have dreamed that he'd be sharing the information with his little sister. "It was back when I was hanging out with Justin. I suppose you want to know who with, right?" Heather raised an eyebrow comically. "Do go on." "Justin's older sister." Justin was his buddy that he knew and hung out with all during high school. "His parents were out of town and she got us a bunch of beer. One thing lead to another and Justin had passed out, so it was only Candy and I. She, uh, showed me the ropes, so to speak." "How romantic. You lost your virginity to a drunken friend's sister. Wasn't Justin pissed?" "We never told Justin, and hey, she was drunk, too. It was the best night of my life, are you kidding me?" "You're terrible." "I was sweet a second ago, what happened to that?" he asked. "It seems to come and go," she replied. "I thought you didn't drink," she added. "It's not like I never drank before, you know that. In fact, I did an awful lot of it in high school. That's one of the reasons that I don't now. Got it out of my system." Heather knew that a couple of her brother's friends died in a car accident where alcohol was involved. Even though he wasn't in the crash, it had scared Mark enough to where he swore that he'd never touch the stuff again. Must be the night with his buddy's sister happened before all that. After lunch was finished Mark drove them back to their parent's house to drop his sister off. "Are you going to come in?" she asked. "Naw, I'm gonna head back home. Thanks for all your help." "No problem. Thanks for lunch." "Hey, if you need...anything, just give me a call. Have patience, remember?" "See you later, Mark." ***** Heather was somewhat surprised at how much better that she felt after talking to her brother. It wasn't that he provided any particular advice that she hadn't heard before in one form or another, it was that he gave her some insight into his life. She felt a lot closer to him after that. For the first time in her life she actually wanted to see him again just to hang out. The following week at school wasn't nearly as bad as she thought it was going to be. No one was laughing at her like she feared, the opposite of that, really. There was somewhat of a backlash against Sabrina and David once word got out about the dance situation. It didn't get her a date, but she didn't feel like a complete idiot, either. David actually apologized to her in a lame attempt to win her good graces but she swiftly let it be known that she wanted nothing to do with him. Twelve and a Half Hours Sabrina had yet to be heard from, she'd deal with that when she had to. In the mean time, she filled the void that Sabrina had left with her friend Anne. They were in a lot of the same classes and were working together on some English homework that they had been assigned over the weekend. They were supposed to partner up and write an essay from two different points of view. Heather excused herself for a second to answer her cell phone. It was Mark. "Hello?" "Hey, kid. How's it going?" Mark asked. "Not bad. Working on an English paper with Anne." she replied. "That just sounds sad. Amy and I were bored so we went to the pawn shop and bought a Wii. Want to come over and bowl with us?" "I don't know. That sounds at least as sad as what I'm doing. I really want to hang out, but we kind of have to finish this. Are you still going to be there in a couple hours?" "Sure, just come over when you get the chance. Give me a call if you need a ride." "Okay, see you soon." Anne looked over at her from the computer screen as Heather put her phone back in her pocket. "Was it a boy?" "Kind of..." "Well you should just go then, I can finish this." "It was my brother, gosh. He just got a second hand Wii and wants me to go over to his apartment and play it with him." "Oh. I didn't even know that you had a brother. Is he cute? You should totally introduce us" Anne suggested. She was only half kidding, being much in the same boat as Heather when it came to guys. "Heh, I guess he can be cute enough. You wouldn't know him from school, he graduated before we got there. Besides, he's been going out with this girl named Amy for like forever." "That's a shame." Anne gave Heather a ride over to her brother's when they were done with their writing project, which as she had predicted over the phone, took them a couple of hours. She said 'goodbye' to Anne and ran into Amy coming down the stairs while she was on the way up. "Hi, Amy. I was just on my way..." she began. "Yeah, listen, I'm on my way, too," Amy said quickly, not bothering to stop. Heather could sense trouble. She made her way to Mark's door and knocked on it gently. It opened almost immediately. "Heather, I thought...it doesn't matter what I thought. Come in." Mark held the door open as his sister stepped inside. "I just ran into Amy, she seemed like she was upset. Is everything okay?" "Well, let's put it this way. That was probably the last time either one of us will see Amy." "Oh Mark. I'm so sorry. Was it because of me? Because I was coming over?" "Don't be silly. But I guess, yeah, partly it was because of you." Mark flopped down on his couch before he explained further. Heather was perplexed. "I kept thinking about all the things that we talked about last weekend. I got to thinking that I wanted something more than what Amy and I have. Or had, I should say. She didn't want to talk about it." Heather sat next to him. "So you just broke up with her? You've been with her for years. It seems a little sudden." "It wasn't sudden, believe me. Things have been about to come to a head for a while now. I didn't think it was the worst thing in the world to ask her if she loved me. I love her. She never seemed to want to answer the question. What's really been bugging me lately is that she's been constantly texting with her friend, some asshole that she works with. It seemed like tonight that we couldn't say more than two sentences without her having to stop and type out a message on her damn phone. I suggested that she might as well go over to his house rather than sit around here and pretend to listen to me. Evidently, she thought that was a great idea." Heather didn't know what to say. "I'm so sorry." She could see the pain in his face. It reminded her of how she felt when she sat alone on the swing in front of her house the week before. "It hurts, doesn't it?" "Yeah. More than I thought it would," he replied with a weak smile. "Here I am all old and wise, been giving you all this big talk on romance. The first time that I give any serious thought to it I end up emotionally crippled and alone. Maybe you shouldn't listen to anything that I say." "I'll always listen to you. I just might not take you as seriously." "At least you'll listen, I guess." The two didn't end up playing any video games that night. They did a lot of talking and watched some television. Mark showed his gourmet skills by making some burnt microwave popcorn. When the credits began to roll after the movie that they had been watching was over, it was late and Mark realized that he could barely keep his eyes open. He was about to suggest to Heather that she just sleep over rather than him taking her home when he noticed that she was already sleeping. He called and left a message with his parents to let them know where their daughter was. They might have gone to bed early enough to where they wouldn't miss her at night, but no need to panic them when they woke in the morning and she wasn't there. Besides, if he took her home Sunday morning he might be able to get some pancakes out of it. He retrieved an old blanket from the closet, along with a pillow and arranged his sleeping sister on the couch into a more comfortable position. Standing over her for a moment before retiring for the evening himself, he reflected, not for the first time, at how she had grown into such a pretty young woman. As smart as she was, she seemed to have yet grasped the concept as to what this meant. One of these days, she was going to put it all together, and woe to the man that she set her sights on. Intelligence and beauty could bring just about any guy down. ***** Opening her eyes, Heather realized that she was still at her brother's place. It was light outside, but a glance at her phone told her that it was very early in the morning. Hopefully, her parents wouldn't flip out too bad when they found out that she didn't come home last night. Really though, there was no telling when they would actually realize it, might not be until next weekend. They didn't seem to pay much attention to her. Still a bit groggy, she plucked the blanket off of her and shuffled off toward the bathroom. She threw the door open to find, shockingly enough, Mark standing there, naked. Mark had just gotten out of the shower and was halfway through shaving. He was used to getting up and around early in the morning for work, it was just his routine. Sundays were usually for sleeping in, but after his break up with Amy, he just couldn't sleep any longer. His guts felt twisted, his heart rate was up, he was feeling restless. Focusing on how miserable that he felt, Mark just about jumped out of his skin when the door opened. He turned to see his sister getting a good look at all that he had to offer. Dropping his razor into the sink, he grabbed frantically for a towel. Heather didn't seem to be going away. "Heather! Do you mind? Want to close the door?" She snapped out of the shock that she was under, closing the door quickly in front of her. "Oh, my god, I'm so sorry," she shouted through the door. "Didn't you see that the fucking thing was closed? Why didn't you knock on it?" "I'm sorry, I'm still kind of asleep. I didn't think about it. Why didn't you lock the door?" "I've never had to before. I didn't think about it, either." A while later, after they had both pulled themselves together, they were on their way to their parent's house. Mark spoke. "Are you all right? Not traumatized or anything?" Heather had to grin. "No, I'm fine. I've been wanting to see a naked man up close, but I always pictured it happening a little differently. You should have seen the look on your face." "So you're saying that you did it on purpose then? I'm surprised that your jaw's still attached, the way it was hanging open," he responded. "On purpose? If anything happened on purpose it was because of you not locking the door. You probably got some weird kick out of me walking in on you. You're the pervert here." "Could have fooled me. You stood there for like an hour staring at me." Heather did admit to herself that she probably looked a little bit longer than she had to, but it couldn't have been much more than a couple of seconds. "Give me a break, would you? It's embarrassing enough, and I...never seen one before, you know? Can we just forget about it?" "Hey it's no big deal. No need to get upset about it, it was just natural curiosity," Mark said. "Thank you." "Just to make sure, I think I'll ask Mom what she thinks about it. Maybe you are weird." "Mark!" If he hadn't been operating a motor vehicle and literally had her life in his hands, she probably would have slugged him. "If you do that, you're so, so dead." "Relax. I wouldn't tell Mom, and you know it. It really wasn't a big deal and besides, I don't want to give her an excuse not to let you come over again. That was nice, last night." "I really didn't do anything, just watched T.V. with you. And ate your rotten popcorn." "Yeah, well, you were there with me. I didn't have to sit there alone with my sorrows and a whiskey bottle." "But you don't drink," Heather pointed out. "Well see, I may have started again if you hadn't shown up." "So if you don't have a date or anything next weekend, do you want me to come over? You know, keep an eye on your fragile condition?" "Only if you don't have one," he replied. Heather calculated the chances of her having a date by the next weekend at being roughly the same as her chances of being struck by lightning. It was possible but..."I'll be over then." ***** Unlike the week just after the dance, the following one seemed to move in slow motion for Heather. She was being tormented by dreams of her naked brother which she found to be both distressful and erotic at the same time. She had been looking forward to seeing him again, but as Friday hit, she realized that she was nervous. Heather had to face the facts; she was attracted to Mark. She didn't want to be, it was just sort of happening. She called him on the phone several times during the week, telling herself that she was just making sure that he was doing all right after his break up. She couldn't bring herself to admit that the sound of his voice on the other end of the connection was causing her heart to flutter, even when he was mercilessly picking on her. It was making her miserable and she was right on the edge of calling Mark and telling him that she didn't want to hang out when she heard his voice downstairs talking to their mother. She took a deep breath and made her way down to the kitchen. Her mother was on her way out the door to go meet their father for dinner. "Heather, dear, it sounds like you two are going to have fun. If you're not here in the morning, I'll assume that you're staying with Mark. I've got to run." Heather looked at her brother with some skepticism. "We are?" "Sure. I told her that I have tickets to Richard III over at the Main Street Center." "Oh? And what are we really going to do?" she asked. "I'm taking you dancing." "What? I don't know how to dance! I don't have anything to wear, and...and you shouldn't have lied to Mom," she stuttered. Mark thought she was being silly. She was acting like he said that he getting ready to shave her head or something. He waved a set of tickets in front of her face. "I didn't lie to Mom, look I've got the tickets right here. They were giving them out at work. Just throw on some jeans and a decent shirt and you'll be fine." "But I don't know how to dance. Do you even know how to dance?" She still didn't seemed sold on the idea. "Where we're going, it's not that hard to blend in. Just put your hands over your head and flop around. You can watch me, I'm kind of like the John Travolta of my time. Seriously, it'll be fun. You planned on going to that dance with Whatshisname, and you didn't know how to dance then, either. And then, you were whining saying that you've never danced with a guy. Trust me, they'll be fighting one another to dance with you. It'll be like a buffet of men for you to pick from." "Can I just start off dancing with you? And how will I even get in? I'm not old enough to be served. Maybe we should just go to the play." "Oh please, don't make me barf. If I wanted to be bored to death I could sit home and watch PBS. You only need to be eighteen to get in the door, and unless your birthday party was a lie last month, you're old enough. You just won't be able to drink. Now stop making excuses and go get ready. We'll get some dinner first, then go hit the club." Heather went back up to her room to change, both terrified and excited. She was terrified because she was about to be thrust into an unknown environment, potentially making a fool of herself. Excited because it was something that she always wanted to do. She didn't know if she wanted to run away from Mark or kiss him. How come everything that she did or thought of lately caused such conflicting emotions? Mark sat in the kitchen, waiting for his sister. He was staring at the clock, wondering if he should go up to her room to check and see if she had slit her wrists or not. Before he had to, however, she appeared in the doorway. She had changed her hair and top and looked like she was ready to dance. The only problem was the look on her face. "How do I look?" she asked. "You look gorgeous, Heather. But tell me the truth now, are you scared?" She did look gorgeous, but perhaps slightly nauseous. There was fear in her eyes. She didn't say anything but nodded 'yes'. "Listen. Nothing to be scared of. I'll be with you the whole time, if you don't like it, we can just leave. You'll be fine, trust me. I wouldn't take you if I didn't think you'd like it. Do you trust me?" "Yeah. I'm just, you know, I've never done it before. I always get nervous over stuff." "Hey, no problem. There's only one way to get over it. Just do it. Now let's get something to eat." Mark took his sister to a place downtown, taking some comfort in the fact that she seemed to be relaxing more as they ate their dinner. He thought this was something that she wanted to do, he didn't want to give the girl a heart attack. She was more of a nerd than what he thought. "Now, I want you to have fun tonight, but I'm still your big brother and I'm responsible for you, so there's going to be some rules." "Okay, what?" "One. You can dance with all the guys you want, get all the numbers you want, but no going home with them. You're hot and naive, I'm not going to let you out of my sight, and when you leave it's going to be with me." "Heh, okay." "Two. No drinking. Don't accept any of the drinks that these guys are going to want to buy you. I don't want you getting wasted. And for god's sake, don't take any pills or anything like that." "Okay, I won't. Do you really think people will try and drug me and stuff?" "Probably not. Especially around here, but anything's possible. I'm not trying to scare you or anything, I just want you to pay attention to people while we're out. It's supposed to be fun, remember? Ready to dance your ass off?" "Ready as ever, I guess." She was feeling a lot better about the whole thing. It didn't escape her attention that Mark had referred to her as both 'gorgeous' and 'hot', either. The club wasn't quite full, but there were more people there than usual for it being so early in the night. After standing in the shadows for a little bit, getting adjusted to the atmosphere, Mark took Heather out onto the dance floor. It didn't take her long to get over whatever trepidation that she had about dancing in front of other people. After a couple of songs, she fit right in. Mark, though not exactly living up to the self-proclaimed John Travolta status, seemed to know what he was doing. "I'm gonna take a break. I'll get us something to drink," he shouted. Heather nodded in agreement and they were soon seated at a table near a relatively quiet corner. "Oh my god, I'm sweating!" Heather exclaimed, fanning herself with her hands. "Yeah, it's a workout," Mark agreed, sipping a Diet Coke. He was happy that his sister looked like she was enjoying herself. "How do you like it?" "It's fun," she replied. "See those guys over there?" he asked, nodding over to his right. Heather followed the direction of his nod and saw who it was that he was talking about. "They've been seriously checking you out." "Really?" "Yeah, really. Do you like the looks of any of them?" "What do you mean?" "I mean, do you think you'd want to dance with any of them?" he asked. Mark always thought of his sister as the smart one, it was hard for him to believe that she could be so dense. "I guess the one on the end looks kind of cute." "Go ask him to dance." "Shouldn't he be the one asking me to dance?" "He probably won't, I imagine they think you're with me," he explained. "I am with you." "You came here with me, you're not dating me, just go ask him to dance," he insisted. "What if he says 'no'?" "Then ask the guy next to him." "What do I say?" Mark looked at his sister with a smile. "All right, listen up, this is important. Here's what you do. Walk over to the guy, then put your hand on his shoulder, kind of like this." Mark reached across the table and sort of half poked his sister on the shoulder. "Just to make sure you have his attention. Then say 'hey, wanna dance?'" Heather had been concentrating on what her brother had been saying as though her life may depend on his every word. "Is that it?" "That's all there is to it. You're not asking him to get married, just to jiggle around the room for a few minutes. Go get 'em." Although Heather retained some doubt as to whether or not it could actually be that easy, Mark hadn't led her astray so far. She stood from the table and made her way over to the guys standing by the end of the bar. Mark looked on with a mixture of apprehension and amusement. He really didn't want her to fail in her first attempt; she might not ever trust him again. It was a relief to see Heather lead the guy by the hand and out onto the floor. Success. After a while, Heather was ready for another break and made her way back to the table where her brother was. Her dance partner went back to his buddies at the bar. Mark gave her a high-five as she arrived. "How did that feel, huh? I'm proud of you." "It felt great," she gasped. "I think I need to work out more. This is hard." "Heh, I think you'll make it. Do you like him?" "He's okay. He's not as good of a dancer as you. He doesn't smell as good, either." Mark burst out laughing. "Well, throw that one back and try another one, then." "How about you? You been sitting here the whole time? Why aren't you dancing?" she asked. "Haven't had a chance, been watching you." "Well I'm taking a break. How about her?" Heather was referring to a woman that was a couple of tables over. Mark looked and wrinkled his nose. "I don't know how to go about that one. Hey Granny, you take your arthritis meds today? Wanna polka?" "Oh my god, you're bad!" Heather sputtered, choking on her soda. When she had recovered, she surveyed the room closely. There were a couple of younger girls sitting over in the opposite corner. As far as she could tell, they were alone. "Okay, okay, how about one of those two over there?" "Oh I don't know, this is supposed to be more about you than me," he replied. "What, are you scared? Don't think you can do it?" she teased. "Really? You're gonna try and play that card? I could have them back to my place making babies before you can finish your drink." "Oh yeah? Prove it, stud. On the dance floor though, not the making babies part." Twelve and a Half Hours "Fine." Mark reluctantly rose from the table and made his way over to the girls. It was a lot easier to give advice than it was to follow it. The truth of the matter was that it had been a long time since he had asked anyone to dance besides Amy. He didn't want to look like a fool in front of his sister. It was Heather's turn to watch her brother in action. She was impressed but not surprised when he and one of the girls made their way out on the floor. She kind of wanted him to get turned down so that she could have something to tease him about. She knew it was mean, but she hated to think that he could possibly be right about everything. The more that she watched the two dance, the more she realized that she didn't like it much. She was jealous, though she knew that she had no right to be. She just wished that they weren't quite so close, that the girl wasn't so pretty...she had to snap out of it and deal with a new potential dance partner that what trying to get her attention. As the night wore on, the place started to get more crowded and the two were running out of energy. They decided to call it quits before they both dropped. "So, do you want to go home, or do you want to go to my place?" Mark asked. "I wouldn't mind hanging out without all the noise, I guess. You don't have one of those girls coming over for a booty call or anything, do you?" "No, no booty calls scheduled. Why do you ask that?" "I just figured since you're 'Mr. Action' and all that you'd hook up with one of them. Especially that one with the stripper name, what was it? Mystic? Misty? She was rubbing her stank all over you." Mark was surprised by her tone. She sounded kind of like she was pissed. "What are you, jealous?" "No," she replied hastily, turning her head to look out the window of the car. Mark chanced a look in her direction. She sure looked jealous. "I didn't go out tonight to get laid. I just wanted to dance with you. I didn't even get a number, didn't try." Heather's mood softened. She knew she was being foolish. "I'm sorry, Mark. That was great, it really was. You taught me a lot. I guess I am a little jealous. I don't know why, just protective, I guess. It was hard for me to watch those skanks grinding up against you." She knew why. "Hey, it's not like it was easy for me to see my little sister out there dancing it up with a bunch of pricks that I didn't even know. It's just something that we have to deal with. I tried not to think about whatever it was that they were thinking about every time they sized you up. I would have went crazy." By this time they had entered his parking lot. They left the car and began to climb the stairs to the apartment. "What do you mean?" Heather asked. Mark shook his head. "You can be a little frustrating sometimes. I mean they were thinking of all of the nasty, sexual things that they could do to you." "How do you know that?" "Because that's what I'd be thinking! Didn't you wonder how any of those guys would be in bed that you were dancing with?" "Maybe, yeah." "It's human nature. It's what we do. I don't like people having those thoughts about you, but there's nothing that I can do about it. Do you know what I mean?" They entered the apartment and flipped on the lights. Heather looked down at the floor, feeling even more foolish than she did before. "I'm sorry that I'm so stupid about things like that. I know I ask a lot of dumb questions. I know you were doing something nice for me and I had a really good time. Thank you for letting me come over here and bug you." Whatever irritation Mark had been feeling evaporated. "You're allowed to ask me anything you need to ask. Don't ever feel stupid, you and I both know that you're not. You've actually done me a big favor by hanging out with me, it's kept my mind off of Amy." Heather turned to look up at her brother, dangerously close to kissing him. Her heart was thumping so that she was having a hard time concentrating on what she wanted to say. When she opened her mouth, nothing came out. Mark could sense a bit of what was happening, he was feeling it too. He resisted the urge to scoop her up into his arms, as amazing as that would probably feel. "Are you okay?" he asked. Heather made some noises, clearing her throat. "Yeah, I'm, I'm good. A little tired, I guess. And thirsty. I'm going to grab something to drink." "Okay, help yourself. I'm gonna hit the shower. Do you want me to leave the door open, or would you rather just barge in like last time?" There was the crude Mark that she remembered. "Well, I didn't really get a good look last time, I wasn't ready for it. It's up to you, I guess." He didn't really know how to respond to that. It wasn't much like her to give him a taste of his own medicine. It sounded almost like she was serious. The only thing that he could do was stand there and shake his head. "Just take your shower so I can take one. I'm sticky and tired." Heather walked into the kitchen to get her drink, leaving her slightly bewildered brother to his own devices. It was totally wrong to flirt with him like that, but it was fun. She was having one heck of a night; it seemed like her emotions were flying all over the map. She needed to relax before something inside of her snapped. Mark took his shower without interruption. Despite their flirting, he locked the door to the bathroom this time. After he was done, he lent his sister a pair of sweat pants and a shirt and she took a shower as well. Dancing was a sweaty business and it had seemed incredibly hot in the club that night. His apartment, in comparison, was much cooler. Heather sat on the couch next to him in the living room. She shivered and rubbed her arms. "It's cold in here, Mark. Can I get a blanket?" He retrieved one from the closet and draped it over his sister. She curled up beside him and covered him with it as well. "You smell good. What kind of cologne do you wear?" she asked. "I don't wear cologne. I think you're just crazy," he responded. "Maybe. Maybe it's the body wash. Either way, I like it." She nuzzled her head against his side, causing him to squirm a bit. "Am I too close?" Mark couldn't remember them actually 'cuddling' together before. This was a first, and he liked it. "No. You're fine, I just need to get comfortable. Here," he said, draping his arm around her shoulders so that his hand was resting somewhere around her belly. "What makes you so cuddly all of a sudden?" "I've never had the chance to cuddle with you before. And it feels good." "Yeah." "Have you talked to Amy?" "Heh. I called her like a million times, but she never called me back." "You really miss her, huh?" she asked. "Yeah, I do." "What are you going to do?" "There's not a lot that I can do. Try and forget about her. I'm not gonna call her anymore, that's for sure. I think I've already done enough to humiliate myself," he explained. "You shouldn't feel that way. There can't be anything wrong with trying to hold on to the woman that you love. If she can't see how great you are, then shame on her. Some girls would do just about anything to have a guy like you love them." Mark wasn't used to having the adoration of his sister. It felt...extremely nice. He was glad that she was there. "That was very sweet of you Heather. It almost makes me feel better about spending all of my money on you tonight." Heather picked her head up, alarmed. "What? Why didn't you say something? You didn't have to take me out. I've got some money..." Her brother interrupted. "Relax, it's too easy to set you off sometimes. If I couldn't afford to take you out, then I wouldn't have done it. It's fine. Pretty girls don't part with their money when they go on dates, you must have read about that somewhere." "Are you sure?" "I'm sure. I'm just happy you went with me and got to have a little fun. And I'm happy you're here with me now." "I'm glad I'm here. I'm glad you took me dancing. I probably would never have done it with anyone else. Um, how come you keep saying that I'm pretty and things? Do you really think so?" "Of course I do." "No one else has ever said things like that to me." "It's because you've never had a real boyfriend to tell you that. I bet they've said plenty of things like that about you, just not to you. Trust me, you look fantastic." He thrust the television remote into one of her hands. "Now find something decent for us to watch on T.V. so we don't have to talk about how pretty you are anymore." Heather started flipping through channels. "I don't know. I kind of like it. Say something else that makes me feel pretty." "You shouldn't have to have me tell you that you're pretty to feel that way. I will anyway, though. Let's see. If I had to pick one girl from the club tonight to take home on looks alone, and you weren't my sister, I would pick you. You have a sexy little smile and your eyes are an amazing shade of green. I could just lose myself and stare into them for hours..." "Okay, okay, you're getting carried away," she giggled. "That was still nice, though. And my eyes are the same color as yours, by the way." "I knew there was a reason why I liked them." Heather eventually found an old movie for them to watch and it didn't take long for her to fall asleep after that. She couldn't help it, the dancing had taken more out of her than what she thought and curling up with Mark had made her comfortable enough to where the drifting off came easy. Mark was tired, but he was still a ways away from falling asleep. The girl clinging to him had something to do with it. The only times that he ever had a female this close to him he was either just about to have sex with them or he had just finished having sex with them. He tried not to think about it, but sister or not, Heather was making things difficult on him. There were parts of his body that were doing their own thinking. When he finally couldn't stand it any more, he was able to escape to his bedroom without waking the sleeping beauty. Once alone, Mark took his frustrations out with a brief masturbation session. He wiped the ejaculate off the end of his penis with a couple of tissues and lay back on his bed feeling relieved but kind of dirty. He'd just jacked off thinking about his sister. And he still wanted her in the worst way even though he knew how wrong it was. Things were a lot less complicated when Heather was just his little sister that he saw once or twice a month and didn't even have to talk to unless he really wanted to. Now he actually cared about her more than he ever expected to and there was a sexual attraction that he couldn't ignore. Eventually, he fell into a fitful sleep, wondering if he should go see a psychiatrist or not. ***** When Heather woke up the next morning, her brother was already up and in the kitchen. He was sitting at the table having a bowl of cereal. She mumbled something that sounded like 'gmoorring' and went to his refrigerator. She had her head stuck inside for a few moments before closing the door, disappointed. "Don't you ever eat anything besides sliced turkey and pickles?" "Cornflakes," he replied, raising his spoon. She settled on a glass of milk and joined him at the table. "If you felt like going to get some groceries, I could cook you something nice today. Last night was so much fun, I want to do something nice for you." "It was fun alright. You don't have to worry about me. Besides, you probably want to get home, don't you?" He was still thinking about how unsettlingly turned on that he became on the couch. That it might not be a bad idea to decrease his exposure to his sister for a little while until he came back to his senses. "Not really. I don't have any homework that I have to get done for a change. Mom and Dad are like zombies or something. I'd basically just sit in my room. I'd rather hang out with you." "What's the problem with Mom and Dad? I've heard you say a bunch of things like that lately." "I don't know. Dad's always working even though he's supposedly getting ready to retire. Mom's always running around, pretending that she's busy, but I have no idea what she actually does. It's like they want to spend the least amount of time with me as possible." "That's not true, they're proud of you. I think it's because you're such a good kid, you're low maintenance. They never have to worry about you or what you're up to. Like a cactus," he said. Heather was amused. "Really? That's the best thing you can come up with to compare me to? A cactus?" "How about a perfect little angel, then?" "That's better." She set her glass down on the table and grew serious. "What do you think of me? Really." "Well, I think you're young, a little too insecure, but that will go away once you get a little older. Pretty much a nerd, but that's not really a bad thing. You've got a great body and a sexy smile, any you're gonna make some guy really happy one of these days." Mark really had to stop thinking about how attractive she was. "God Mark, now I know why you get all the girls." "I don't get all the girls. How many girls have you ever seen me with?" "Well, I don't know, a couple maybe. I bet you could get a lot of them if you said some of the things to them that you just said to me, though." "I don't say things like that to just anyone. Being your brother and all, I probably shouldn't be saying things like that to you. People would think I'm some kind of a pervert." "I don't. And there's nobody here but you and me. Nobody says things about me like you have, it's nice. I'm not going to tell anyone about the things we talk about. Now, are you going to let me stay here and do something nice for you today or what?" Mark wasn't doing a very good job at trying to keep something improper from happening between he and his sister. He should have stopped looking at her with lust in his eyes, should have stopped telling her how sexy that he thought she was. He should have taken her home. He just couldn't. "Sure. But you better do something really nice." Heather may have been naive, but she could sense the sexual tension in the air. There was something about it, and about Mark, that was addictive. They way that he looked at her sometimes, and the way that it made her feel wasn't something that she was used to. She loved it and was indulging in it even though the intellectual side of her was telling her that she should be repulsed. She wasn't. She wanted more. And if anything did happen between them, well, like she said before, they were the only two people there. She had to learn somehow. "I'll try my best." They lounged around the apartment for a little while, talking about this and that when Mark got a call to go into work. He worked at a print shop and they were having a problem with one of the systems that he was familiar with. With a promise not to be gone too long and to take her to the grocery store when he got back, Mark left his sister alone in the apartment. Heather decided to tidy the place up while Mark was gone and was working on that when there came a knocking on the door. She walked over and looked through the peep hole to see Amy standing on the other side. She took a breath and opened the door. "Uh, Heather. I was looking for Mark." She was giving Heather a look like, 'What the hell are you doing here?' Heather took note. "He's not here. He let me spend the night last night, he's helping me out with some stuff." "Oh. I can't get him to return any of my messages or take any of my calls. I think that I made a big mistake and I just want to talk to him. Do you know when he'll be back?" Heather surmised that this woman could totally throw a wrench into whatever plans that she and her brother had yet to make. At the very least she would cause him some kind of emotional distress. She could tell Amy to go away, but there was no way that she could keep her away from Mark forever. She clearly wanted to get back together with him, or she wouldn't be standing there talking about a big mistake that she made. Mark clearly had feelings for her or he wouldn't have been with her for years. Amy looked miserable. The puffy eyes and unkempt hair suggested that she may have been up all night crying. Quite possibly getting ready to start again right there in the hallway. She looked at Heather expectantly. "He won't be back until a little later. If you want, I could make sure that he gets a hold of you." "Would you please? All he wanted me to do was to tell him that I love him, and I really love him. I just don't know why I couldn't do it. Will he listen to you if you ask him to? I need to talk to him so bad that I just...it just...it's just killing me," Amy whined. Heather frowned. "He'll listen to me, I'm sure. You have to listen to me first, okay?" "What is it?" "I'm going through something of my own. I'm not going to tell you what it is. What I am going to tell you is that I absolutely need him tonight. I need you to trust me that he'll get in touch with you tomorrow sometime. I'm sure that he loves you, and he's not dating anyone else or anything like that. Can you just go home and get some rest and try and trust me?" "Yeah, I guess so. Are you gonna be all right?" Amy asked. She thought it was a bit mysterious that Mark's sister, who he very rarely even spoke to, was here and telling her this weird story. Still, she had promised her that Mark would talk to her. "I don't know. I hope so. You?" "I hope so. Please have him call me. Please." "I promise, I will." Heather watched Amy walk down the hall with her heart in her throat. She had a plan, hasty as it was, it was a plan. She just didn't know if she had the intestinal fortitude to carry it out or not. It was a long, long couple of hours while she waited for her brother to come home. ***** It took Mark a little longer than he thought to figure out things at work. Nearly the whole time that he was gone, his cell phone was vibrating like mad from calls and texts from Amy. He had decided to ignore them. She hadn't bothered to listen to him when he desperately wanted to share his thoughts on their relationship. Why then, out of the blue, would she try so hard to get back in touch with him? He just didn't feel like trying to deal with her right then. He already had a girl back at home that he was trying to straighten out, two was one too many. He would have just turned his phone off if it wasn't for his sister, he didn't want to miss a call from her. Amy could wait to be dealt with, Heather could not. Heather was sitting at the kitchen table, playing with something on her phone when he returned. She looked at him with a worried, deep-in-thought expression on her face. What was going on now? "Hey kid. You cleaned the place up. Looks good. Thought about what you want to get for food?" he asked. "Haven't thought much about it. Amy stopped by." "Oh?" "I felt sorry for her. She was a mess. She said that she loves you and that she made a terrible mistake," Heather explained. Her voice was flat, almost sad. "She could have told me that when I asked her if she did or not," Mark stated. "Maybe it just took her a little bit to realize how special you are to her. Maybe not everybody knows everything about love like you do. Maybe you could have answered the phone when she was trying to talk to you. You have to talk to her and stop being a bonehead. You love her. I know you do." "Christ! I never said that I know everything about love. Damn. If I understood women a little better, than maybe I wouldn't be in the situation that I am now. I know that I should probably talk to her, I've been stubborn about it, but she hurt my feelings. Bad. Don't you understand that?" "I know Mark, you told me all about it. I'm not trying to make you feel worse than you already do. I just don't think you should give up on her. Maybe things will work out with her, maybe they won't. You won't ever know if you don't at least talk to her again. I told her that I would make sure that you called her tomorrow." Twelve and a Half Hours "Tomorrow? Why tomorrow?" he asked. "Because you've been helping my with my issues. And you've done great, you've made me feel great. I need one more day with you. One more night with you," she explained. She was somewhat nauseous with nerves; here, at the beginning of her plan, things could go terribly wrong. "You do?" "Yes, I do. There are some things that I need you to show me. Like how to kiss, how to do other...things. You understand?" Although Mark had fantasized about such 'things', he really didn't expect such a request from his sister. "I understand you alright, it's just that I really don't think that we should do that sort of thing. You're my little sister." "Listen. Listen to me, I realize that. I know what people would think if they found out. But who would find out? I know that I shouldn't want to make love to you, but I do. I trust you and I love you. I don't want my first real kiss to be with some guy that I met at a club. I don't want to lose my virginity to one of the boys at school that more likely than not don't know what they're doing themselves." Mark couldn't remember a time when he had felt so emotionally drained. All before lunch. He wasn't sure if any of what he was hearing was real, as if he was having some sort of out-of-body experience. "Heather. Oh Heather, it's not about looks or anything, I think that you're...you're just amazing and sexy. But if we do something like what you're saying, I'm not sure I could live with myself afterward. I mean, I would feel super guilty. You're so young and sweet, it would be like...I don't know..." "Like you were taking advantage of me or something?" she interrupted. "Yeah, kind of like that." "No it wouldn't. You'd be teaching me, and I want you to. I've thought about it, and believe me, I wouldn't ask if I thought that I wouldn't be able to handle it. I feel safe with you and I want you to show me what it's like. Don't feel guilty about it, you'd be doing me a huge favor. I know that we can never have a relationship like what you and Amy have. As you pointed out, we're brother and sister. But we can have one night, can't we? And tomorrow you can call Amy and patch things up with her. You should. You two probably need one another more than you realize." "And what about you? What will you do after tomorrow? I mean, do you think you'd really be all right?" He had already mostly given in to her idea. Weak will and high testosterone was fueling his lust. "I'll be okay. I know that I can never have you, I don't think that could ever really work out. But, I'll at least know what it's like to be with you and I'll know what sex should be like. I'll find someone, eventually. They won't be you, but I'll know what to look for. I can't thank you enough for what you've done for me so far. Can we have this one night, too? Please?" "Just the rest of today, and tomorrow we're back to brother and sister?" "That's what I'm proposing," Heather replied. To her surprise, her brother smiled, and began to chuckle a little. "Why are you laughing?" "I'm sorry, this whole conversation has been so tense, and with Amy calling a thousand times, I just...my nerves are shot. Don't ask me why, but listening to that last bit that you just said made me think of something I saw on television. Like you were a congresswoman on the senate floor trying to get a bill passed. I know it's not even funny, I don't know why I'm laughing. Nervous as hell, I guess. "I don't want to do anything to hurt you or your feelings. Are you sure you want to do this with me? I'm not gonna lie, I've thought about sleeping with you. I will. It probably makes me a terrible person, but I will." Heather smiled. "You're not a terrible person. Maybe a terrible sense of humor sometimes, but not a terrible person." She had to pause, take a deep breath, and swallow. "I thought that I might puke before I got done asking you." Then she picked up her phone and looked at the time. "There's twelve and a half hours left in the day. What do you want to teach me first?" Mark had been standing by the opposite side of the table during the entire conversation. He extended his hand to his sister. She took it and rose from her seat. "I can't believe that we're actually doing this. Let's go in the living room." He took her to the couch where they sat next to one another. Despite this being exactly what she wanted, Heather was nervous at a level that she had never before conceived. Mark brushed a lock of hair from her face and looked directly into her eyes. "May I kiss you, Heather?" She nodded her head in agreement and parted her lips slightly in anticipation. She had her eyes tightly closed, but couldn't help but open them again when his lips touched hers. He was handsome, her brother. Not like a movie star or an underwear model, but handsome nonetheless. His lips were much softer than she had imagined. She again closed her eyes when she felt his tongue slowly entering his mouth. After a moment, she tried to match what he was doing with hers. They kissed like that for a while before Mark pulled a short ways away. "That wasn't so bad was it? I don't think you'll have a problem with kissing." Heather sighed softly and opened her eyes. "That was nice. Let's do it some more." Mark pulled his sister onto his lap and they resumed making out. His hands roamed up and down her back, he kissed the side of her neck and under her ear, causing her to hiss with delight. She did the same to him, feeling the definition of the muscles under his shirt, and the roughness of the slightest trace of stubble appearing at his neckline. When she moved her body slightly, she could suddenly feel something poking against her inner thigh. "Is that you, uh, getting hard?" she asked in a whisper. "Yeah." "That's so hot." Something about Mark getting aroused did the same to her. "Feel it," Mark said. He took her hand and guided it over the bulging outline of his erection that he was sporting through his jeans. She rubbed her hand over and across it, then again. It seemed enormous compared to what she had seen when her brother had just gotten out of the shower. "Ohh, I want to see it." Mark slid her off his lap and back beside him on the couch. "You will. I'm going to touch you a little first. Don't be afraid to tell me to stop if you don't like it or it gets uncomfortable or anything, okay? Don't ever do anything you don't want to do," he said, still delivering kisses along the sides of her neck. Heather was on fire. "Oh my god, you can do whatever you want to me." Her brother smiled. He wasn't feeling any guilt or awkwardness, just the heat of the moment. His sister was proving to be a very willing student. Kissing her fully on the lips, and with one arm around her back, he used his free hand to cover her front. He slipped it under her shirt, his shirt that she was still wearing from the night before, and cupped one of her petite breasts. She kissed him back with increased intensity as he switched from one to another, circling each nipple with the pads of his fingers. Pleased with her reaction to that, Mark began to slide his hand down her chest, across her navel, and eventually into and under the waistband of her sweats. She parted her legs the best that she could in the position that she was in and awaited his touch. He traced the outside of her panties for a short time, then went inside of them. He felt nothing along the lines of pubic hair. "Oh nice, you're shaved. I think that's very sexy." Heather smiled, beginning to breathe heavy. Mark slid his hand down over her pussy, slowly moving his fingers over her outer lips. She was self-lubricating rather nicely. He parted the top of them with his thumb and began rubbing in a small circle where he thought her clit should be, finding it quickly. She moaned with new found pleasure. "Do you like that?" "Yes." She had touched herself before, but this was different. Very different. "Don't be afraid to say what you like and what you don't like. It's hot when a woman says what they want," Mark advised. He was really getting into the role of the naughty teacher. "I like it, I really like it," she sputtered. "You can put your fingers in me if you want." "Like that?" he asked, inserting his middle and ring fingers into her hungry cunt. It was a tight fit, but a fit nonetheless. She almost immediately began to buck her hips, trying to fuck his hand. "Just like that," she agreed. "Now in and out." Mark obliged. He alternated between quick thrusts and slow ones, taking delight in the sensual noises that his sister was making. She seemed to have a pretty good idea of what was going on so far, so after a few minutes of this, he decided to do something different. He rolled from the couch as Heather sighed in disappointment at the absence of his touch. She had been close to reaching climax. As he knelt in front of her, he began to pull her sweats and panties down. "Let's take your clothes off," he suggested. There were no complaints from the other side. Heather flung her shirt off and onto the floor, she hadn't been wearing a bra. Mark continued pulling and soon was looking at his naked sister for the first time. "You're beautiful, Heather," he said kissing the inside of knee and thigh, "I'm going to taste you and lick you." "Okay," she replied quickly, with a nod. Mark stood and positioned Heather on her back on the couch so that he could get on there with her and reach all of the tasty bits easily. Her naked, and before untouched sex glistened in front of him, slick with her juices. He dove in, intoxicated by the little wonder that lay before him. Heather wanted to take his advice and let her brother know that she liked what he was doing to her. She wanted to tell him how amazing it felt to have his tongue inside of her, but she couldn't. She couldn't say a thing. She could make noises, but articulating words all of a sudden seemed very difficult. She was just trying to breathe, feeling as though she was about to explode. Then, all of a sudden, she did. "Oh god! Oh!" she cried, her hands entwined in Mark's hair, pulling him tighter against her crotch. He, of course, knew what had happened and felt some sense of pride that he was the first man to bring her to orgasm. He slowed his licking, aware that she would probably be quite sensitive for a few moments, but wanting taste all of her that he could. Heather released her grip on his head, so he kissed his way back up to her mouth. "I like it," she finally managed to say. Mark grinned. "Heh, I'm glad. I liked it, too. You taste amazing." "You really like to do that?" she asked, wrapping her arms around his back. "Sure I do. Especially to you, you sounded like you really enjoyed it." Heather giggled. "I did! " She rubbed his back and craned her neck up so that she could speak into his ear. "Will you take your clothes off now? I want to look at you." Mark once again rose from the couch. He pulled his shirt up and over his head, Heather's eyes glued to him like it was the most interesting thing that she had ever seen. To her, it was. He wasn't self conscious about his body, but he was certainly curious as to what she thought about it. He slid his jeans and boxers down around his ankles and kicked them off. He did a slow spin while Heather smiled up at him. "Well, what do you think?" This was much better than the quick glimpse that she had gotten a little over a week ago. He was much closer and actually putting himself on display for her. Mark kept himself in pretty good shape. He didn't work out or anything, but was trim and certainly nothing to sneeze at. He had a little triangle of hair on his chest, and a little fuzz on his lower legs. Like her, it appeared as though he shaved his pubic region, something that she didn't pick up on when she caught him in the bathroom. His cock looked to be extremely hard and a bit darker in color than the rest of him. It had a slight curve to it and was pointing straight up at his belly button. She didn't know exactly how it compared with other men, but she was fairly sure it wasn't small. If it was going to go inside of her, she knew that it would pretty much fill her up. "I think that you look pretty good naked. And you have a nice butt." He reached out a hand to help her off the couch. "Let's go in the bedroom." He reached out and slapped her ass playfully as they started walking. She yelped, but just out of surprise, not any real pain. "I think your butt is a lot nicer." They walked into his room and fell onto the bed, kissing and embracing each other. Heather reached down and wrapped a hand around his cock. It was quite warm to the touch. "How long does it stay hard like that?" "Until I cum, and maybe a little bit afterward. Then it will usually get hard again in a couple of minutes if I'm still, you know, doing things." "Do you masturbate a lot? Everyone always make jokes about how boys do that." Mark chuckled. "Well, I guess that depends. Since Amy hasn't been around I've been doing it more. Almost every day. Before that, just once in a while. I did last night." That caused Heather to grin. "You did? After I fell asleep, I take it. Did you think of me?" "Yeah," he admitted. "It was kind of hard not to think of you after you'd been leaning up against me for an hour. And like I said, I think your awfully sexy." "That was naughty, Mark." "Not anywhere near as naughty as what I just did to you." Heather giggled her sexy little giggle. "I suppose that's true." She was stroking her brother's dick slowly and gently. Once she had it in her hand, it just seemed like the thing to do. He wasn't complaining. She kissed around the sides of his neck and down onto his chest. "Now I want to do something naughty to you." She continued to slide down his belly until her face was even with his crotch. She cradled his balls and started giggling again. "It doesn't exactly fill me with confidence to have you laughing at my package." Heather tried to stifle her giggles. She was still more than just a little nervous and there was something so foreign and strange about having a set of testicles in her hands that she couldn't help it. "I'm not laughing at you. Well, I guess I am, but not in a bad way. You can't tell me that there's nothing funny looking about your...ball sack. Not just yours, but any picture of them that I've ever seen, they all look about the same. I sure as heck never touched one. I didn't mean to laugh at you, really." "It's all right. I guess what I've got isn't anywhere near as pleasant to look at as what you've got. " Mark wasn't at all upset about Heather's giggling, but he was growing impatient. He had had his raging erection for quite some time and it was screaming for release. He suspected that his sister was getting ready to suck his cock, though she sure was taking her time about it. She was performing a thorough investigation of his manhood before she put it in her mouth. Letting her move at her own pace, he couldn't help but twitch and hiss every time that she touched it. At long last, she began to lick the head with the tip of her tongue, sampling the precum that was leaking out. "I have no idea how to do this, you know." He wanted to tell her to just put the damn thing in her mouth, but he didn't. "You've probably seen a dirty video at some point. Do what they do on there. Take as much of me into your mouth that you can and move your head up and down. Try not to scrape me with your teeth. Stroke me with your hand every once in a while, like when you have to catch your breath." Not very insightful really, but he was trying to sound encouraging at least. Heather had done a little 'research' on the internet from time to time and had seen a few blowjobs performed. At the time, she hadn't given a lot of thought to actually giving one. After the wonderful licking that Mark had given her, she really wanted to return the favor. The swollen cock that was staring her in the face was intimidating and inviting at the same time. It was exciting, so intimate and dirty, it felt surreal. Before she knew it, it was in her mouth and three quarters of the way down her throat. When she was right on the edge of gagging she lifted her head back up, then down again. She wasn't able to take quite all of it but she was able to develop a steady rhythm that was causing Mark to moan with pleasure. He reached down and put a hand on the back of her head. He didn't apply any pressure, just lightly stroked her hair. "There you go, baby. A little faster, maybe." She obliged. "That feels real good." Heather kept the pace up for as long as she could stand it. She was having a hard time getting a breath and her jaw was beginning to ache fiercely. Forced to release him from her mouth, she began to jack him off instead. "I had to take a break from that..." she was about to ask him how much longer it would be before he came, but he cut her off. "Just keep doing that. Harder, I'm going to cum!" he shouted. She did exactly that, her hand becoming a blur up and down his shaft. It sounded to her as though he was in some sort of pain, though she suspected that was not the case. A sudden, thick stream of semen shot up and out of his cock, landing on her hand, wrist, and his stomach. More came out after the initial blast and dribbled down her fingers. "It's so messy," she pointed out. "I take it I did that all right." "Heh, yeah you did." Heather was still stroking him at this point. "Ease up now, okay? The head there gets like super sensitive right after I cum. Oh that felt good." Heather held up her gooey hand. "That was really hot, but I'm going to go grab a towel, okay? Be right back." She was gone for a second, then came back to clean her brother. "How thoughtful. Come up here." Mark pulled her by the hand close enough to where he could kiss her. "Are you doin' all right?" "Yes." She lay against him with her head on his chest, watching his penis slowly deflate. "We're going to be able to do more?" "Only if you want to. Only if you're comfortable." "I want to keep going. Was that normal, what we just did and what you did to me back on the couch?" "What do you mean by normal?" He was pretty sure that she knew that relatives didn't normally perform oral sex on each other. "I mean do you do that like every time or just sometimes or what? How often?" "You know that I can really only speak for Amy and I, right? I don't know the specifics on other people's sex lives. We've done just about everything to one another that we could think of and we've found things that we like. I really like to lick her, so I do it almost every time. She likes it too. She sucks me a lot, but not all the time. I guess it just depends on how we're feeling at the time." "I liked sucking you, but it wasn't easy. It made me feel all nasty, but you know, nasty in a good way. How can I get it all in my mouth when it's hard?" "That I don't know. I've never given head before." "Well that's good to hear. You said to do what they did on the videos that I've seen, I have seen a couple. Those girls could swallow the whole thing, and no offense, but a couple of the guys looked like they were a lot bigger than you." "Well damn Heather, I'm not a porn star. Neither are you. If I had some massive tool like a lot of those guys then maybe I would be. Those girls know how to suck a cock because they've probably sucked hundreds of cocks. It's not rocket science, if you do something a million times you'll probably get pretty good at it." "Yeah, you're probably right. And I'm not trying to say anything bad about your...cock. It seems pretty big to me. If it was huge it would be scary, I mean it has to go inside of me. I don't want to get ripped apart." "I won't hurt you. I'm not saying that it might not hurt a little, since you've never done it before, though. You do have one important thing going for you, it's kind of what your pussy's made for." Twelve and a Half Hours Heather went back to her giggling. "It is, isn't it?" She was quiet for several moments. "I'm so glad it will be with you. You don't know what it means to me, really. Thanks for answering all my stupid questions, you'd make a good sex-ed teacher." "Probably not if I slept with my students. I'd be in prison." More giggling. "Yeah. Well, you're perfect for me. Can we kiss some more?" "Of course, but speaking of sex-ed, you don't happen to be on any type of birth control, are you?" "No." "I have condoms. I don't have to give you the birth control speech, do I? Please don't get pregnant unless you're trying to. I know you want Mom and Dad to pay more attention to you, but that's not the way to do it. Always try to be prepared, because believe me, it's hard to stop once you get all hot and bothered. If some guy tries to tell you that he's not fertile or some nonsense like that and doesn't need to wear a rubber, then he's lying. I mean it's possible that he's telling the truth, but I'm telling you that there'd be a pretty good chance that you'd end up having his miracle baby." "Why would they say that?" "Because of the way it feels. It feels better without one. For the woman, too. Or maybe the guy just doesn't have one and's too horny to go get one." "Okay. Can we kiss now?" "Yes." They kissed and kissed, and kissed some more. Mark was laying on his back with Heather straddling him on top. He was in the process of suckling one of her breasts when she spoke. "Oh my god, Mark. I am so ready. Please put it in me." She did seem ready. Her face and upper chest were flush, her pussy was practically steaming. He was more than ready, himself. Mark was able to reach to drawer to his nightstand and retrieve a condom. It was on in a matter of seconds. It was still a somewhat sobering realization to Mark that he was about to penetrate his little sister and take her virginity, though the realization did little to dampen his eager passion for the moment. Heather had sat off to the side while he applied the condom and was panting with excitement. "How do you want me?" she asked. "Why don't you get back on top of me? You can let yourself down on me and put it in yourself." At this point, Heather didn't really care how it happened, she just wanted it to happen. She was beyond worrying about whether or not it would hurt, she just assumed that it would and she'd get over it. It seemed much more important to just fuck. She positioned herself over top of her brother, lining up the head of his penis to her entrance and lowering herself down to apply pressure. She could feel it stretching her and pushing against her, but it didn't seem to want to go in. Mark could feel it, too. Also, he was looking right at it. He was beginning to wonder if it was ever going to happen when she began to slide down his shaft, and finally, he was fully inside of her. "Oh fuck," she gasped. It wasn't so much pain that she was feeling, more of an uncomfortable, stretched sensation. For a brief moment, she was having second thoughts about continuing on. Mark began to soothe her, however, and she decided to stick with it. He stroked her thighs with the tips of his fingers. "There you go, baby. Are you okay?" When she nodded that she was, he went on. "Maybe just sit there and get used to it? Can you bend down and kiss me?" Heather was a bit shorter than Mark, so they didn't exactly line up perfectly for this maneuver. With a few pillows under the back of his head and a bit of stretching, they were able to pull it off while she was able to remain impaled on his cock. Her body began to relax and adjust while they kissed and she was soon feeling much better about the situation. She started to grind against Mark as the uncomfortable gave way to a much more pleasurable feeling. "Oh," she sighed. "Better?" "Yeah." "I've got to tell you, Heather, you look amazing. I'm one lucky man. And you feel amazing." He was breathing heavy now, moving in rhythm with his sister, pulling out a few inches before she came back down against him. She responded with a passionate moan and carried on with her grinding. She agreed with her brother, it was an amazing feeling. Far different than what she had felt when he was licking her. It didn't feel like she was anywhere near an orgasm, but it did feel good. Heather had been concentrating on what she was feeling and doing, so she wasn't sure how long she had been at it when Mark spoke again. "Do you think we can change positions? Let me on top for a while?" For the first time since they began, Heather pulled herself all of the way off her brother. She turned to lay on her back in a missionary position. She had a bit of sweat on her brow, her legs were spread and inviting. Mark had slept with a few women before, but he couldn't recall one looking quite as sexy as she did at that moment. "Everything still okay?" he asked, getting into position. "A little tender, but nothing to stop me. You make it feel so good, Mark." He took that as a sign that the show could carry on. This time he was able to achieve penetration with minimal resistance. Heather was once again hit with different sensations, most of them bringing her pleasure. In this position, Mark was pulling much further out of her pussy after each thrust than what was happening when she was on top. After a couple of minutes of this, he began to pick up the pace and was clearly enjoying his work. Heather was too. "God, that's good, Mark. Please don't stop, don't stop," she mewed. Stopping wasn't on the agenda. Mark was getting close to having an orgasm, and from the sounds of it, his sister was, too. It took most of his willpower to last long enough for her to have hers first. She was squealing and sinking her fingers into his back when he began to cum as well. He kept pounding into her for as long as he could stand it, trying to extend her pleasure a bit longer. Finally, when it felt like the last bit of his energy had been sapped, he collapsed on top of her. "Did you cum?" he asked, planting kisses along her upper body. "Oh yeah, oh man. It's like I couldn't even say anything, just make noises. I never felt anything like that," she replied, feeling spent. "Did you?" "Heh, yes I did." They lay there for quite a while before getting out of bed and cleaning themselves up. Heather was experiencing some sort of a glowing, wonderful after effect of the sex that she never knew existed before. After two orgasms, Mark was just tired. She was standing in front of the kitchen sink, still naked, when he came up and put his arms around her from behind, kissing the back of her neck. "God, you're sexy," he said. She turned around, into his arms. "You are too. How come you put your clothes back on?" "Oh, the neighbors across the street can see through the blinds. They're always looking in here." "What?" she asked sharply, suddenly realizing that she could be getting spied on. "You ass! Why in the hell wouldn't you say anything?" He held his hands out in the air in front of him. "Kidding, just kidding. I was going to order something for us to eat. I thought that we could stay in. I'm starving." "Oh, why do you have to trick me, just when I was starting to believe whatever you say? It's a good idea, though. I'm hungry, too." "I wouldn't know what to do if I wasn't allowed to pick on you." "You could just stand around naked and be my sex machine," she suggested. "That sounds like a magnificent idea. I take it that you enjoyed it, then?" "Are you kidding? It was way better than I thought it would be, and I had some fairly high expectations. Was I all right for you?" "Heather, in all seriousness, you were amazing. That's about all I can say, it's hard to describe how it felt. Especially being your first time, I didn't really know how it was going to go. I wish..." his voice died away. "You wish what?" she asked. "I kind of wish that things were different, you know? That we could be together. A lot of what I felt wasn't because of your body, and you have a delicious body. I think it was because of who you are. Does that make any sense?" "It does, Mark. It does. I felt that, too. Let's not be sad about it, okay? It's going to suck having to go home tomorrow, no doubt about that. But you know what? If we can have this wonderful thing, even for just one day, I'll remember it for the rest of my life. You will, too. Most people probably never get to feel something like this. We'll never have to sit around when we're old and wonder what it would have been like." "You're quite a girl, Heather. I'm going to order something before I start crying and can't talk on the phone." She swatted him on the shoulder. "Stop picking on me!" He squeezed her tight enough to where she couldn't move and spoke into her ear. "I'm not, I wasn't kidding. I love you." Then he released her and left her standing by the sink. "I love you, too," she whispered. She had just figured that he was being sarcastic. Her emotions were still sort of running amok, now she felt like crying. Instead, she ran off to join her brother in the living room, wanting just to be held and needing to make sure that he had heard her say that she loved him. She caught up to him, nearly knocking him over in the process, and hugged him with all her might. "I love you, too! Don't be mad, don't walk away." "I know, I know. You're fine, relax. I was just getting my phone. What do you want to eat?" Heather relaxed, feeling comforted and loved once more. Emotions were a hell of a thing. They decided to order a pizza, the old stand by. After eating, Mark suggested that they take a nap so that they could get back some of their energy. Heather didn't want to, not wanting to waste any of the time that they had alloted themselves. He had to point out that contrary to word on the street, he was not a sex machine, just a human being and that she was, too. They would have plenty of time to enjoy each other's bodies once they had a little rest. She relented, but insisted that they both napped naked so that she could cuddle up to him and feel his bare skin against hers. ***** Heather hadn't realized how tired that she actually was until she was laying with her brother in his bed. It wasn't that she had expended a tremendous amount of energy earlier, but she had expended a tremendous amount of emotion. They both snoozed for quite a while, she was the first to wake. After opening her eyes and seeing that she was still sharing the bed with her slumbering brother, she decided to just lay there and study him. Most of his body was under the covers, but she could still see his face. It was a kind face, she decided, in addition to being handsome. He never really looked mean or angry, even when he was angry. He could be quite the smart ass, but there was no way that she could say that he was ever mean. How was she ever going to find a man like him? Sure, there was a mind-boggling number of men out there, but the perfect one was laying right there beside her and she couldn't have him. She glanced at the alarm clock. Seven more hours, then she couldn't have him, she reminded herself. A time limit may have seemed ridiculous, hell, the entire situation that they were in may have been ridiculous, but she was considering it a break from reality. A break in which she and Mark could live out this fantasy, sort of like a walking dream. In reality, neither one of them would have dared to do such a thing. Heather slipped out of bed without disturbing her brother. She was feeling a little sticky from earlier and decided to just let him sleep while she took a shower. She inspected her vagina while in the shower. It didn't really look any different, and thankfully didn't seem to be too sore. She hadn't said anything to Mark about it, but she was kind of afraid that she might not be able to have any more sex that day. With no real idea about the kind of state that she'd be in after doing it for the first time she had just crossed her fingers and hoped for the best. It wasn't the best, she detected some discomfort while performing her self exam, but it was a heck of a lot better than the worst. She called the prognosis 'functional' and was happy enough with that. Time to wake Mark. Mark opened his eyes with a smile. His sister had slid close beside him and was waking him up with a series or quick, tickling kisses around his neck and chest. "Time to wake up?" he asked. "Yes. I'm ready to learn something else." He stifled a yawn and instantly found himself becoming aroused. The nap had done him good. "You are, huh? Any particular subject interest you?" Heather hadn't given it much thought. She assumed that Mark would just pick something wonderful to do to her out of his experiences and she would enjoy it. "Surprise me." "Heh, all right. First we kiss, though." Heather began to move up as though to kiss her brother on the lips when his hands grabbed her shoulders and flipped her over on her back. All of a sudden, he was over top of her and kissing her from above. That was surprising. He was quicker than he looked, she thought he'd still be half asleep. After kissing for quite some time, Mark used his tongue to navigate his way down Heather's body. She was anticipating being eaten, like she had been before, but he spent only a short time on her pussy. He pushed her legs up toward her shoulders and stuffed a pillow under her lower back. The real surprise came when his tongue made contact with the tiny, crinkled ring of her asshole. "Oh my," she uttered. That was certainly a new sensation, her brother holding her ass cheeks apart to probe her little sphincter with his mouth. "Oh, that's so bad," she added, meaning that it felt incredibly good. She held her legs up and wiggled around a little bit as to give Mark the best access that she could. He switched his attention to her pussy every once in a while, but mainly stayed focused on her ass. When his tongue began to tire, he brought the ass rimming to a halt. Heather had loved it, finding it to be seriously arousing. "Let's do a different position," he suggested. He had Heather get off the bed and lean over it, belly down while he applied a condom. "I like to stand up to do it doggy-style. So I can move better," he explained. "God, you've got a great ass." Heather suddenly grew concerned about her ass. After what all he had just done with his tongue..."You're not going to put it in my ass, are you?" "No, unless you want me to." "Not really." As much as she loved and trusted Mark, she found the prospect of anal sex not all that appealing. Her vagina was barely large enough to hold him, and that's what it was made for. No telling what would happen if he tried to put it somewhere else. "Don't worry, I just wanted to lick it." He rubbed his cock up and down the length of her slit from behind, making sure that the angles were right. "Are you ready?" She was definitely ready. "Yes." She could feel the pressure of his erection on the outside, then slow penetration. When he stopped, it felt as though he was a lot deeper inside of her than he was before. There was some slight discomfort, but nothing more. "I'm going to go real slow to start with. Tell me if you want me to stop, okay?" "Okay." Mark began a slow pumping into his sister. It was kind of hard to believe how tight that she felt, the last thing that he wanted to do was hurt her. He couldn't really see her face, but everything sounded fine at the moment. The little noises of pleasure that she was making was a serious turn-on. "That feels really good, Mark." Better than the other two positions that she was in, she decided. Maybe it was the freedom of motion, or the angle, whatever the reason was, it didn't matter. What mattered was how it felt. After she spoke, he started to move faster, then faster yet, and it only felt better. Mark had wanted to last as long as could, and the condom was helping him out there in that regard. The problem was that there was only so much pounding into Heather's glorious cunt that he could take. The pleasure grew to be too much and he climaxed in a series of violent thrusts. He slumped forward, kissing her back, out of breath and spent for the moment. "I'm sorry, baby. I had to cum. I couldn't help it. Felt too good." Heather turned over so that she was sitting on the edge of the bed. She hadn't had an orgasm, was close, but it didn't seem to bother her. "Why would you be sorry? That was awesome. Aren't you supposed to cum? Isn't that the point?" He got rid of the spent rubber and wiped himself off. "Sure I am, I just like it when the girl cums, too. Sometimes it just doesn't work that way. I just want to please you." "You are pleasing me. I was real close." "Oh man, that makes it even worse." "Let's get you ready to go again, then. What do you think's really sexy? What can I do?" Mark looked at his naked sister sitting on the edge of his bed and briefly wondered how many men in the country had dreamed of hearing something like that come from a girl that looked like her. "I think you're sexy. Why don't you lay back and show me what you do when you get yourself off." "You mean, like masturbate?" "Yes, masturbate for me. I want to watch you. I think that would be sexy." "Um, okay." Heather slid back on the bed so that she could lean against the headboard with her knees up and her legs spread. It was a position that she had taken many times in her own room, but never with a spectator. Mark sat on the other end to the bed so that he could get a good view. It was odd that she would start to feel self conscious then, considering what they had already done to each other, but she was a little. She wanted to be sexy for her brother and didn't know if what she was doing would be sexy enough or not. As her fingers circled and rubbed the swollen nub of her clit, she did know that it felt good, however. Having Mark watch seemed to spice up the whole affair. "That's unbelievably hot," he commented, slowly stroking himself. Almost back to full mast. She was biting down on her lower lip, concentrating, growing closer and closer to her goal. She liked watching Mark touch himself and getting hard while he watched her, his eyes devouring her nakedness...and then she came. A rather high pitched squeal escaped her mouth as she closed her eyes and the air left her lungs while the orgasm radiated through her body. The look on her brother's face that she saw when she opened her eyed told her all that she needed to know about what he thought of her little masturbation session. Mark didn't think that things got much hotter than that. His sister was quite the little sex kitten. He leaned in to lick her little quivering pussy and sample her juices. She was exquisitely wet. "Do you want more?" he asked. "I want some more." "Stay right like that." On went another condom, and in went Mark. Like before, he began by pushing into slowly, then increasing the pace. She was still amazingly tight though her level of arousal made lubrication a non-issue. He held her arms down by her wrists as he pumped into her and just enjoyed how she looked and the sounds that she made. Her face had become very flush, almost a bright red. She was lost in her lust. So was he, for that matter. He wasn't sure how long they went at it like that, but it seemed like quite a while. His arms were about to give out, so he deemed that it was time to make a change. "You've got to get on top," he grunted, sweat running down the sides of his face and neck. She nodded enthusiastically and they swapped places. Bracing her arms on Mark's chest, she slammed herself up and down on his now well-used tool. When he had regained some of the strength in his arms, he aided her movements by placing a hand on each of her ass cheeks and helped to lift her up, then pushing her back down. At some point during this, Mark heard his sister make another one of the long, high-pitched squeals that she had made earlier. He thought that maybe she was having another orgasm, but it was hard to tell, things were becoming somewhat of a blur. Heather kept going, so he kept going. Twelve Cylinders, One Piston All people and places are fictional. All characters are over eighteen. ***** A painter with a remarkably steady hand was writing the name Peter Jokland with a long, thin pinstriping brush. The white letters seemed to flow off the tiny brush onto the green paint below like they were meant to be there. "Can you put Jock in the middle, with little quotation marks?" Jock asked just in time, as the "r" in Peter was going down. "Sure man, no problem," the painter said. The next morning Jock switched on the garage lights and ran his hand along the fender of his new pride and joy, a 1971 Jaguar XK-E roadster that he had spent the winter working on. It was far from a stock E-Type, having been modified into a race car in its previous life, before Jock saw it and had to have it. It's one of those cars, you know? The kind that, when it finds its soul mate, it knocks them for a loop and forces them to buy it, no matter what the cost. It's one of those love at first site things, and it happens to lots of people, with all different kinds of seductive objects. Shoes, paintings, guitars, handbags. For Jock it was the E-Type. British racing green paint, fat tires on white wheels under even fatter fender flares, a roll bar, a fuel filler on the deck lid, a big number 9 in a white circle on the side. Like all E-Types it was a combination of masculine and feminine cues, this one even more so, with an ass-ier looking ass and more muscular bulges. From some angles you wanted to fuck it. From others it looked like it wanted to fuck you. After months of work it was finished and gleaming, with the driver's name freshly painted at the top of the door in the traditional way. Jock raced in vintage events, where old race cars are brought out to play, screaming around historic old tracks just for the fun and the glory, and the Jaguar was his latest muse. It's an expensive hobby, but Jock had the dough. The son of a concrete magnate, he'd inherited the business and promptly sold it, much more interested in play than work. Of course play can be a lot of work too, especially when you're juggling relationships with eight or ten women. That's a lot of balls to keep in the air. Jock liked big titted girls, and bigger things are harder to juggle. Have you ever tried to juggle a whole bunch of balls the size of big tits? It's not easy. The reason women flocked to Jock was easy to see — a young-at-heart guy in his early thirties, wealthy, six feet tall with unpretentious muscles and a big cock. The wavy blonde hair and blue eyes didn't hurt either. His motorcycles and fast cars drew the bad girls, and his quiet, thoughtful personality drew the good girls. He preferred them somewhere in between, but he wasn't picky. Ursula was an example of the perfect balance. A tall, willowy blonde, she came from a conservative family with money, had an Ivy League education, worked as a buyer for a women's clothing retailer and volunteered with troubled kids on the weekends. At night with Jock she came out of her shell, wearing sexier clothes than she ever used to, fucking him in bar-room bathrooms, gradually learning the ways of wanton sexuality. She stopped by that Saturday morning hoping catch Jock in his garage. "Wow!" she said as she walked in and saw the gleaming green car. "Hey baby," Jock said. He walked over and gave her a lingering kiss. One with some heat behind it. "I was just thinking about you." "Yeah, right!" Ursula chuckled. She knew he had lots of other girls, and she hadn't seen him in two weeks or more. "No really! The curves on this car, they remind me of you," he said, running his hand over the voluptuous green fender." Ursula laughed. "You're too much Jock." "That's a good thing, right?" he said, his mouth curling into the delicious smile women couldn't resist. Ursula certainly couldn't resist him. That smile did crazy things to her, made her insides all hot and churny feeling. "You're just in time. I'm gonna pop her cherry this morning," Jock said. Ursula just looked at him. "First drive. Maiden voyage, get it?" "Even your cars are sex objects," Ursula said, shaking her head but smiling. "You taking it to the track?" "I registered this one for the street. I'll race it too, but I wanted to be able to use it more." "You can do that?" "Yeah, it's got lights and stuff. My insurance guy wasn't too happy about it, but I twisted his arm." "Do you always get your way?" Ursula asked, smirking a little. "I hope so. Damn you look good today. I don't see you much in your everyday clothes. I like it," Jock said. His smile was working its magic again. "So, you got some time? Go for a ride?" "Which kind of ride are we talking about?" Ursula asked, her eyes twinkling, giving away her churny insides. "Ooo, I like the sound of that," Jock said. He walked over and put his hands on Ursula's shoulders, locking his blue eyes on hers. "What do you say we see if this thing gets us as far as the mountains, and we'll spread out a blanket and give some of those red squirrels a good show." Twenty minutes later, after a phone call canceling a shopping date with her girlfriend, Ursula stood next to the menacing but sensual looking car while Jock started the engine. The whole front of the car was hinged open, exposing the twelve cylinder engine which seemed to fill its space in the chassis without an inch to spare. Jock sat in the drivers seat, flipped a switch and pushed the starter button. BRRRAAP!...BRRRAAP, BRRRAAP! "Oh my God!" Ursula yelled, her senses assaulted by the racing headers and unmuffled exhaust pipes. Jock could barely hear her, but he could read her lips, and he smiled. The engine settled into a lumpy idle. He checked under the hood for oil leaks and closed it up, quieting the raucous engine, but only slightly. "You sure you want to go all the way to the mountains?" Ursula yelled. "Yeah, it'll be fun. I've gotta shake it down and see what it can do. I'll bring some ear plugs for ya," Jock yelled. "It won't be so bad when I get it outside. Hang on a minute." BRRRAAP!...BRRRAAP! Jock blipped the throttle, driving it slowly past the other cars and motorcycles in the old warehouse he called 'the garage', out into the open air. "That's better," he said, able to converse at a more normal level. "She's got some attitude." "I'll say," Ursula said. "You're gonna have to climb in over the side, that door's welded shut. The seat's pretty comfortable though. I'm gonna grab a jacket for you and close this place up," he said. He ran back in the building and Ursula sized up her mount. The car was vibrating and buzzing like a beast, obviously not happy sitting still. She held onto the rollbar and lifted her long leg over the low door. Her other leg followed the first and she wiggled her slim butt into the tiny seat. It was surprisingly comfortable. Jock locked the door to the shop and threw a jacket and a blanket behind the seats. Ursula was slowly figuring out the five-point racing harness, adjusting the straps over her shoulders. "Do I really need all this?" she asked. "It's not a bad idea. I feel much more relaxed when I know I can't get thrown." "Thrown?" Ursula said, her eyes big and questioning. "Yeah, thrown out. Ejected." Jock was getting himself settled. He entered through an opening door but had to climb over the steel pipe roll cage. He strapped on his five belts like an old pro. "How often do girls get ejected?" Ursula asked, her voice still raised over the din of the engine. "Only when they're mean to me," Jock smiled. He handed her a pair of sunglasses. "You're gonna need these, there's not much of a windshield on this thing." 'Windshield' was really much too grandiose a name for the six inch high plexiglass wind deflector in front of them. It didn't look to Ursula like it would be much protection, and she was right. Jock blipped the throttle and they were away, the angry engine roaring but sounding sweeter and sweeter as the RPM's increased. After working their way out of the congested streets around Jock's place and getting to the main road, Jock got on the throttle and worked up through the gears, the V12 pulling strong enough to push Ursula back, forcing her up the sloped back of the seat tight against her shoulder belts. "Holy shit!" she yelled. The two of them had huge grins on their faces and their blonde hair blew wildly in the wind. The car felt like it was just inches off the ground, hurtling down the road at an impossibly fast rate. After they had made their way out of the city they slowed as they reached a village and Jock pulled into a corner store for some gas. He flipped the lever on his belts and was out of the car like an acrobat. He filled the fuel cell and poured in a can of octane booster. Ursula tried to sort out her tangled hair when he went in the store, but she realized it was going to be a lost cause. Jock came out with a long submarine sandwich and a six-pack of water. "I got the plain cold-cuts one, is that all right?" he said as he tossed them to Ursula. She nodded and smiled as she stashed them on the floor under her legs. Back on the road Jock was in his element. Country roads twisted and turned, sunlight flashed across his golden hair, and the smile never left his face as he worked his way up and down the gears. The foothills of the mountains approached as the sun hit its noon-day high. Ursula had her head back and eyes closed, soaking in the warm rays. "How about Grey Cliff?" Jock asked as they flew down a deserted mountain road. "That's a nice spot." "Sure," Ursula said, looking at her handsome lover as she came out of her sun-dazed fog. She'd heard stories about Grey Cliff, but never been there. Back in her youth it was a popular camping spot for young folks that her teenaged boyfriend had tried to lure her to back in the day. She didn't go, weaseled out with some lame excuse, and ended up not loosing her virginity until her sophomore year at college. She'd always wished she'd gone to Grey Cliff that weekend and gotten things started earlier. They had enough miles behind them that Jock was able to relax more and enjoy the surroundings, confident the newly restored car was going to get them where they wanted to go. He looked over at Ursula and couldn't help but smile at the way she looked — long blonde hair flashing with sunlight as it blew wildly in the wind. Impossibly long blue-jean clad legs disappearing into the footwell. The big tits he couldn't get enough of criss-crossed by the racing belts that pinned her lithe body to the seat. Even the men's sunglasses looked good on her, giving her a European flair, like a sultry spy from an old movie. He'd met Ursula at the movies, flirting with her at the snack counter as their respective dates sat unaware in the theater. Her long legs are what first caught his eye, and then her quick wit and intelligence sealed the deal. Most of his girls were more 'blue collar', so stumbling on a girl like Ursula was a special treat and he poured on the charm. The next night they fucked in the ladies room at a dance club in the city. It was a first for Ursula, doing something that uninhibited. She discovered her inner slut that night, and loved it. She and Jock have been 'friends with benefits' ever since. Jock turned onto a dirt road, slowing so the Jaguar's stiff suspension didn't shake them to pieces. The engine spitted and snarled at the slow speed, the raucous sound echoing off the dense forest surrounding them. After a mile or so he pulled off into an informal parking spot and shut down the snarling engine. As Ursula's ears adjusted to the silence she could hear birds and a chattering red squirrel. "I think I'll try those earplugs on the way back," Ursula said, rubbing her ears with her fingers. She put her sunglasses on the dashboard, unstrapped herself and climbed out over the door, being careful not to step on the sandwich. Jock got out and opened the trunk. The space was mostly filled up with a racing fuel cell, but he had a few tools stashed back there too. He found what he needed and then unlatched the hood and tipped it forward. Heat poured off the big engine, and he started adjusting the six two-barrel carburetors. "This'll just take a minute," he said to Ursula as she watched. It all looked like an impossible tangle of parts to her. Jock turned the twelve tiny screws almost imperceptible amounts, working very delicately, almost like a surgeon. "There," he said when he was done. "She's runnin' pretty good, but this'll sweeten her up." He closed up the hood and the trunk while Ursula gathered up the sandwich, water and blanket. "What do you think, Upper Pond?" Jock asked. "I don't know, I've never been here," Ursula said. "Oh, definitely Upper Pond then. I know just the spot." Jock took the bag with the food and water and they headed down a trail covered with soft pine needles. The dark, filtered light of the deep forest opened on a beautiful mountain pond hemmed in by ragged cliffs on two sides. The trail pulled away from the water and climbed steeply. Through the trees Ursula could see sunlight sparkling off the pond below them as they headed for the top of the cliffs. It was a bit of a scramble, and she was glad she had worn sneakers instead of slippery soled shoes. After a longer climb than she had expected they emerged at the back of a cliff-top, with a spectacular view spread out before them. "Wow! That was worth it!" she said as she took it all in. "Let's take a break," Jock said. They sat down on the smooth rock and he cracked open two water bottles and handed one to Ursula. "Not too much farther. The rest is pretty easy." "You bring all your girls up here?" Ursula asked with a knowing smirk. "I used to, when I was a kid. I haven't been here in years though. It's such a beautiful place, bringing you here just feels right." Jock was a natural sweet talker. It was never forced or contrived sounding. He just said what he naturally felt, and it always sounded right. All the girls loved that about him. "So what were you goin' shopping for today? More sexy underwear to drive us guys wild?" "What makes you think there's more than one guy?" Ursula said. "You mean you're all mine?" Jock said, leaning back on his elbows and kissing her. It was a nice, lingering, nibbling kiss, full of possibilities. "I could be," Ursula said when they came up for air. "I've always had the feeling you have quite an appetite," Jock said in his usual honest way. Sometimes the girls didn't like that quite so much. "Like a slut who sleeps around you mean?" Ursula said with a tinge of unpleasantness. "No. I just always felt like we were kindred spirits in a way." Ursula wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. She decided to take it as a compliment, especially considering how far she'd come since her virginal high school days. Jock got up and offered Ursula his hand, helping her to her feet. She followed him across the cliff-top, back into the woods. Ten minutes later, after another scrambling climb, they emerged onto another cliff-top. Ursula smiled when she saw the small jewel-like pond they were approaching. It was an almost perfectly round basin scooped out of the smooth rock of the cliff-top, filled with sparkling, crystal clear water, with huge, squared-off boulders scattered around its perimeter. If it wasn't for the trees in the distance and the blue sky she could have been convinced she was on another planet. "It's beautiful!" she said. Jock climbed up on a massive flat-topped boulder at the edge of the water and looked around. "This is a good spot. Give me the stuff," he said. Ursula handed him the food and the blanket, Jock took her hand and pulled her up as she tried to get a foothold on the smooth rock. None too gracefully she made it up. From their new vantage point they could see most of the big lower pond at the base of the cliffs and untold miles of mountains in the distance. Jock spread out the blanket and unwrapped the sandwich. They sat and ate, admiring the view, chatting about mutual friends. When the food was gone Jock pulled off his t-shirt. "A little sunbathing sir?" Ursula asked as she admired her favorite lover. "Somethin' like that," he said. His mouth curled up into that delicious smile again and Ursula's insides got all hot and churney like they do. She unbuttoned her little gingham top and it slipped down her slender arms. Jock was out of his shoes and jeans and he lay back on the blanket with his eyes closed, soaking in the warm rays of the sun. The meaty cock Ursula loved bulged the front of his boxers. That feeling of anticipation when you know you're about to have great sex hit her, and her skin erupted in goosebumps as she slipped her jeans down her long legs. There was no one around, and no reason to be shy, she thought, so her everyday bra and thong came off too. She snuggled her naked body against Jock, throwing a long leg over his. "This's what I'm talkin' about!" he said. A sizzling kiss drew them closer together. His hand went to her soft tits. They both moaned into the silence of the rocky wilderness. Ursula's tits were special to Jock. They weren't perfect 'nude model' tits, they sagged a little too much if one wanted to get picky like that. They were big though, which was his thing, and they just looked right on her. They hung with a v-shaped cleavage that was different from the other girls, their nipples were big and well defined, and most of all, tits that big and sexy on an ivy league business woman were just plain awesome. Oh yeah, the way they bounced when she rode him cowgirl was pretty special too. Ursula's hand slipped into Jock's boxers and found a quickly growing erection. Jock's free hand had the shorts off in a flash and they were both bare-assed in the sun. It didn't take long for Ursula to reorient herself and swallow the big cock whole. Just as Jock loved the tits he was trying to hold onto, Ursula loved the cock she was sucking. Jock's had been her first big cock, and it was still the best she'd ever felt inside her. Their first time together — in that dance club ladies room — she was sure it wouldn't fit, and then when it did she was sure she'd loose her mind. Nothing in her mediocre sex life up to that point had prepared her for what being filled with a cock that big felt like. And Jock, always good with his tools, knew how to use it too. Up against the wall like that, with women pounding on the door to get in, Ursula floated away on that big cock to a place she didn't know existed. "Oh baby that feels good," Jock said, his voice lifting off the big boulder to the deep blue sky above. Ursula glanced at him, and then at the long view across the mountains as she slurped her way up the hot, fleshy shaft and then plunged her head down again, engulfing it. Cock-sucking had become one of her specialties. She loved the raw carnality of it. "Do me doggie baby," Ursula said as she positioned herself. "We can both look at the view." Jock was more interested in looking at her sweet ass, opened up to him with her back arched as she waited for him on all fours. "Fuck baby, you look so good," Jock said as his mouth went to her tender parts. Ursula watched two tiny figures walking around the lower pond as Jock licked deep, his tongue slipping into the warmth of her pussy. She wondered if anyone would come up the trail to the upper pond. If they did she and Jock would be on full view, fucking like animals on top of a rock, like some sort of offering to the gods. The thought excited her and a small orgasm made her tremble. Jock knew that tremble and loved it. He smiled as he licked deep again, and then positioned himself for more. His cock was rock hard as it disappeared inch by glorious inch inside Ursula. When he had buried himself balls deep he leaned forward, took her hanging tits in his rough hands and kissed her on the neck. Twelve Cylinders, One Piston "Oh Fuuuck!" she moaned. Jock started thrusting more steadily, letting go of the tits he loved so he could get his full body into it. He grasped Ursula's slender hips and took in the view — the beads of sweat starting to glint on her back reminiscent of the sparkling water on the lower pond in the distance. He saw people below too, a group of four entering the woods, on the trial to the cliffs. Ursula came quickly. The excitement of being so exposed in such a primal situation took her over the top much sooner than normal. Watching and feeling Ursula come was too much for Jock — with a groan he unloaded a gushing flow of cum on her ass and sweaty back. She stayed on her hands and knees and looked back over her shoulder at him with a lusty smile, her hair still tangled and wild looking. Jock's fingers played in her pussy and then his tongue went back to work, lapping up the juiciness that his deep fucking had stirred up. His face was buried between her ass cheeks when hikers emerged from the woods not far from them, directly across the little upper pond. "Jock!" she said when she saw them. She dropped onto her stomach on the blanket, kicking her pile of clothes off the edge of the boulder in the process. Jock watched as they tumbled into the water. "It's all right, people swim and sunbath naked here all the time. We used to anyway. Your clothes just fell in the pond by the way," Jock smiled. "What?!" Ursula gasped. She turned her body around, staying low on her stomach, and peered over the edge. Her jeans had sunk in what looked like two or three feet of water, and her shirt and bra were floating. The little thong was nowhere to be seen. "This is all you need for the hike out," Jock said. He held up the little thong and her sneakers. "Nobody'd complain about that," he smiled. "Jock, you've got to get that stuff!" she said, watching her shirt as it slowly sank to the bottom. The bra was floating away, being pushed across the sparkling, ripply water by the light breeze. Jock leapt off the boulder and splashed into the water. He let out a whoop when his head emerged, the ice cold water shocking him. He dove for the pants and shirt, much deeper in the glass clear water than Ursula thought they were, and tossed them out before swimming to retrieve the errant brassier. The older couple on the other side of the pond watched the unfolding scene. Jock scrambled out of the ice cold water and tossed the sopping wet clothes up to Ursula. She had no choice but to show her big tits as she caught the clothing. The whole thing made her blush, especially when she felt the gobs of sticky cum dripping down the small of her back. Jock climbed up the side of the boulder and sat next to her, his skin as cold as ice, his big cock shriveled to a small little penis. Ursula gathered up the blanket and pulled it around their shoulders to warm Jock and shield her bare breasts from the onlookers. It also helped to clean the mess off her back, which she was happy about. "It's always an adventure with you," she said, shaking her head but smiling. "Do you think they saw us?" "You mean that orgasm you had? I hope so, more people need to see that. You're so beautiful when you fuck." Ursula looked at Jock and smiled at his straightforwardness. She heard laughter and saw four more people coming off the trail onto the cliff top. "I need the sun on me to warm me up. Lie back with me, they won't see much of us," Jock said. He pulled the blanket off their shoulders baring Ursula's breasts to the six nearby hikers. She blushed again while he spread it out and he surprised her by lying on his back, with his cock visible. Ursula snuggled up against him. "Don't worry, they can't see much up here," he said. She wanted to squeeze out her clothes and lay them out to dry, so she rolled onto her stomach and reached for her jeans. She twisted and squeezed about a gallon of pond water out of them and spread them out on the rock. Her shirt and bra were next. Having her smoothly shaved bare pussy on view with people walking around was too much for her, so she put on her little thong. She was amazed at how that little patch of fabric relaxed her, and she rolled onto her back with Jock, letting the warm sun soak into her. She woke from a dozing dream when she heard soft voices. About forty feet away, on the top of another, higher boulder, a teenaged girl and two teenaged boys sat gazing upon her and Josh. She nudged him out of his slumber. "We've got an audience," she said. "Good. You want me to make you cum again?" he smiled. "You might wanna cover up that big dick of yours. Did you have a good dream or something?" She said, admiring it's swollen size. She reached for her damp bra and put it on. "Dreamin' about you baby," he said. He rolled against Ursula and kissed her. His cock grew even more. "For real, a big hard-on's not what we should be showing those kids," she said. Josh pulled on his boxers and sat cross-legged so his big erection wasn't so visible, but the kids had already gotten a good look at it. Ursula could hear them giggling. "These jeans are still soaking wet," she said as she pulled on her little gingham shirt. "You don't need 'em. You got the best legs in the world, you should show 'em off." "Yeah, I'm gonna walk down the trail in a thong," she said sarcastically. "Well, we can't wait for them to dry. We need to get back before dark. The lights on the Jag aren't all working like they should. Just wrap the blanket around you." Ursula thought about her predicament while Jock got dressed. After squeezing a little more liquid water out of the bluejeans she finally resigned herself to the situation and wrapped the blanket around her waist, tying it as best she could. It was bulky but serviceable. They gathered up their food trash and water bottles and Josh held one of Ursula's hands, helping her lower herself off their perch. He slid down after her. The hike back down was much easier. Ursula was able to look around more, enjoying the wilderness scenery. They passed the lower pond and hiked out the soft, piney trail to the parking area. There were four cars next to the Jag when they got there. "That seat's pretty tight, you'll probably be more comfortable bare-assed," Jock said when he saw her eyeing things. He opened the big hood and fiddled with something while Ursula climbed into the cockpit. She untied the blanket and wiggled into the little racing seat. As she tried to strap herself in she found the crotch strap of the five-way harness was uncomfortable on her bare thighs. "Can I leave this strap between my legs off?" she asked. "Sure. All you really need is the waist belt. The rest is up to you." Jock closed up the hood and climbed in next to Ursula. "Damn baby, that's sexy!" he said, admiring her in her thong with those long naked legs. "You should take the shirt off. That'd be fuckin' hot!" "Yeah right!" she said as another car pulled in. Jock hit the starter switch and the engine burst to life with the familiar vibration and buzzing. Ursula was beginning to like the raucous race car. She had planning on putting the blanket over her legs, but tucked it underneath them instead, feeling wonderfully slutty as they pulled out and waved at some newly arrived hikers. It was two handsome men in their thirties, watching intently as the race car spit and snarled, and she suddenly wished she'd been brave enough to take off her shirt when Jock had mentioned it. Out on the road the engine smoothed to its velvet roar. As they flew down a deserted road in the late afternoon sun Ursula unhooked her shoulder belts and pushed them out of the way. She unbuttoned her little shirt as Jock glanced over with a smile. She wiggled out of it, stashed it under her legs, leaned back and closed her eyes. Jock slowed to a safer speed so he could admire her long lithe body, nearly naked, the sunlight flashing on her through the forest trees. Ursula glanced at Jock when she felt his gaze on her, her mouth curling into a delightful smirk. She reached behind herself and unfastened her bra. The feathery garment slipped down her arms, onto the floor beneath her legs. She leaned back and felt the warm wind on her big tits, her heart beating fast. Neither one of them said a word. Both of them felt warm and churny inside. ——————— Jock took the Jag to the track the next weekend. Strapped in with his fire suit and helmet on, he pushed his new toy to the limit. The car's poise through esse turns and high speed sweepers kept a smile on his face for the whole session. That evening in the paddock he was changing brake pads when Bill and Jane Wilson came over to chat, both with cocktails in their hands. Bill was a captain of industry and raced expensive Italian exotics. Old Ferraris, Maseratis and an Alfa Romeo Formula One car from the '70's were his toys of choice. The vintage racing scene was well populated with wealthy businessmen like Bill. Most of their wives stayed home, but Jane often came with Bill for track days and weekend long racing events. The first time Jock had met her she seemed like a typical trophy wife, bored and ready to find a way back home, but Jock's charm opened her eyes to the possibilities, and that evening, when Bill went into town with some of the guys for drinks, she slipped into Jock's big, bus-like motorhome. "I hope you don't mind," she had said. "Care to entertain an older woman for an hour?" It was pretty clear to Jock what was on her mind. Before either of them could worry too much about the ramifications her jeans were around her ankles and she was bent over the dining table with eight inches of Jock stuffed in her. She claimed it was her first affair, but Jock didn't believe her. It all seemed too easy for her, and she was too nonchalant when she left for it to be the first time she had cheated. It turned into a regular thing — sneaking quick blowjobs while Bill was on the track, fingering Jane to orgasm behind the paddock, fucking here and there when they could. Bill was a powerful man in many ways, so the danger factor was ever-present, and it made the sex that much hotter. As Bill and Jane looked over Jock's new Jaguar for the first time, Jane's hand found Jock's crotch and gave it a playful squeeze while her husbands head was under the hood. Jock returned the favor, sliding his hand down Jane's ass, fingering her pussy through her stretchy denim jeans while he explained the carburetor set-up to Bill. When her breathing got loud enough for Bill to hear Jock stopped. That evening Jane slipped quietly into Jock's motorhome, like she often did. "Billy's just starting a Skype meeting with his Australia office," she said. "I told him I was going for a walk around the track to burn off dinner. Make me sweat so I look well exercised when I go back to him." Her arms were around Jock and their lips locked as the last word came out of her mouth. The next thing out was a moan as Jock palmed her shirt with his hand and squeezed her big bra-less tits. They weren't real — Bill had paid for them — but the best cosmetic surgeon in New York had done the work and Jock had to admit they were sexy as hell, even if they didn't feel as good as Ursula and his other natural girls. The rest of Jane was pretty hot too, especially considering her age. Amongst the middle-aged women at the track, or anywhere for that matter, her ass in tight jeans was pretty spectacular. In the world of trophy wives Jane was a first place trophy. But like a lot of attractive women, she hated the aging process, and she tried to curse it into submission by fucking a younger man. Or younger men, if Jock's suspicions were correct. Jane and Jock rarely got fully naked together — it was too risky under the circumstances — but this particular evening they went all the way, stripping bare for each other, and Jane found it particularly hot and inspiring being so wantonly out of control just two motorcoach's away from her working husband. Jock leaned against a wall while Jane went down on him, squatting with her legs spread, one hand on the base of Jock's big cock, one hand on her tit as she swallowed all that she could of him. She loved the feel of him thrusting into her mouth, something Bill had never done. "Oh baby," Jock moaned as she slurped on him. "You're gonna get me in big trouble one of these days." "Fuck me Jocky," she said as she stood. "Fuck me like you wanna fuck that sexy car of yours." Jock sat on the edge of the couch, leaning way back. Jane climbed on and impaled herself on his shaft. She leaned forward to dangle her tits in his face and he fucked her fast, his hips thrusting hard, his big cock moving so fast it was a blur. "Oh fuck yeah!" Jane shrieked "God yeah! Oh fuck!" Jock kept it up, pummeling her like he was on autopilot and couldn't stop. "Is that your fuckin' piston?! Is that your fuckin' piston?!" she screamed. She was way too loud, and could almost certainly be heard outside the motorhome, but she didn't care. She was rocketing through space, propelled by a big fat cock. She didn't care about anything else but that. Jock held on until she came, and then his body slowed to a rolling motion, bringing Jane down gradually from the heady place where she'd been soaring. "Oh God!" she moaned in a deeper voice than he'd ever heard from her. Her eyes were still rolling as the big orgasm subsided. Jock feasted on her dangling tits and she moaned again. She rolled off the side of him and slurped up his slippery cock in her mouth, going at it like a starving woman, moaning and sucking and biting and licking. "You didn't cum yet did you Jocky," she said between sucks and licks. "Fuck me baby. Fuck me some more." She pivoted onto her knees, head down on the couch cushion. Jock grabbed her hips and plunged in for round two. "Oh fuck yeah!" she whimpered. Her hands clutched at the cushion as Jock wound up to cruising speed again, his body slapping against hers as the heat began to build. "Oh yeah! Fuck that sexy car of yours! Make that pretty car cum! Oh fuck yeah!" she cried. The back half of Jock's motorcoach was a garage space to transport his race car. After Jane had worked up a good sweat to fool her husband, she slipped out quietly that way, under the awning where the Jag was parked, into the darkness. Jock smiled as he watched her go. Her tight bluejean covered ass always made him smile. The way she swung it made him wonder yet again — was he her only man on the side? ——————— "Uncle Ramsey!" Jock said, slapping a firm handshake with the older gentleman in the grocery store. "Hey Little Jock, how are ya?" Ramsey said. Ramsey was Jock's father's brother. There was Ramsey, or "Ram" as everybody called him, "Big Jock", and another brother who died young. Big Jock owned and ran the concrete business, but Ramsey and his two sons worked there, both of them high up in management positions. When Big Jock died and left everything to his only son, there were lots of hard feelings in the rest of the family, and then when Jock sold it all things got even colder, but the frost had started to thaw. "How's everything goin' Ram?" Jock asked. "You know Jock, it's goin' pretty well. As pissed as we all were at you, I gotta admit the new ownership's been good for us all. We just set up a big deal with China. China fer chrissake! Dickie got it done, and we all got big bonus's outta that one, and, well, damn I hate to admit this, but things are goin' better than ever. You should buy stock in that company you sold to, they're smart people." "No, it's you and your boys Ram, you're the smart ones," Jock said. "I just never fit into that lifestyle. I hope you understand that." "I do Jock. I do. So, how're things with you? Still chasin' split tail all over town?" Ram smiled. "Yeah I guess," Jock said embarrassedly. "Picked up a new race car last fall, a '71 XK-E" "Nice! That's a car the ladies used to like back in the day. I could never afford one. MGB's were more my speed." "You oughta buy one now Ram. They're not crazy expensive yet. Use that China money. Be a good investment for you too, they're on their way up." "I'll tell you what — if you find a nice one I'll take a look. Hey Little Jock, it's good seein' you. Don't be a stranger, all right?" Jock picked up a bottle of Merlot on the way home and lifted a glass to his wine loving father at dinner that night. ——————— Jock had eight or ten 'friends with benefits', plenty to keep him busy, but there's always room for one more, right? A young woman attached herself to him one night at a music club. She was doing shots with friends during the set change between bands when he caught her eye. A few minutes later she wandered over. "So do you think Williams will do well this year?" she said. "Massa seems to be driving better than he has in a while." Jock was surprised, but then he remembered he was wearing a t-shirt with the logo of his favorite Formula One racing team on it. "Yeah, they're doing pretty well compared to the last few years," Jock said. "You a fan?" "Yeah, I love watching it. My dad's a huge fan. He went to Watkins Glen back in the seventies to see it all, so I sort of grew up watching it on TV." "Nice!" Jock said. "Yeah, Watkins Glen's a nice track. A lotta history there. So have you been to any races yourself?" "I've been to Lime Rock for the sports cars. Never been to an open wheel race though. Maybe some day." "Yeah, for sure," Jock said. The wheels were already turning in his head. A long weekend in Montreal maybe, for the Grand Prix? Yeah, he could picture that — Formula One action all day, good restaurants in the evening and fucking this cute young thing senseless long into the night. Best to wait until he knew her name though, and get a feel for compatibility. The name thing resolved itself quickly — Amber — and compatibility proved itself over the course of the night. She was probably a dozen years younger than Jock, nineteen, or twenty maybe. Still a hint of baby fat on her soft looking face and full hips. A college student, she seemed like the 'up for anything' type, and pretty soon that proved to be true. As soon as the band played its final note the two of them were in the parking lot next to Jock's old Norton Commando motorcycle. His pants were open just enough to get his cock out, and Amber hid it away nicely in her mouth. It was a dark night, but their actions were far from discrete, with people getting in cars and driving away, flashing them with their headlights as they passed. "Jesus girl!" Jock moaned. "You're gonna get us arrested." Amber had ridden to the show in a friend's car, but she didn't want to go back to the flat she shared with them. She had a long night with Jock in mind. "Take me home with you?" she asked, looking up at Jock with his wet cock in her hand. Jock nodded. "Wanna cum in my mouth?" she asked, her eyes softly sexual, her mouth curled into a cute little smile. She went back to her blowjob, youthful but with solid technique she had probably learned from porn. She built the intensity like a pro, and as Jock was cumming he heard a voice. "There's a lucky fucker," a young man said to his friend as they walked by in the dark. Jock didn't have a helmet for Amber, but she didn't care. It was her first time on a motorcycle, and she loved the rawness of it — the vibration between her legs, the loud, straight pipes, the wind buffeting her, and most of all, wrapping her arms around Jock and feeling his warmth and the muscles working in his abdomen as they leaned through corners, rocketing down dark city streets. It was the most incredible way of being transported somewhere to get fucked that she'd ever experienced, and her horniness built with each twist and turn through the city. Seeing the assortment of classic cars, hot rods and race cars inside Jock's garage when they arrived only made her hotter. Twelve Cylinders, One Piston Upstairs in Jock's loft she went wild. She'd never had wild sex before, the kind you sometimes see in the movies or on porn, and she'd always wondered if she had it in her. In Jock's loft that night she found out, and it happened without thought. She was a wild girl, and it felt as natural as natural can be. Up on his rooftop patio the next morning, as she soaked in the sun's rays wearing nothing but her panties, Jock asked her about a trip to Montreal. "It's kinda short notice, but I can probably get some decent tickets on StubHub or somewhere. If not we can just do the walk-around tickets." "Oh my God yes!" Amber said. "I'd love to go!" She got up off her lounge chair and straddled Jock on his. A warm kiss had his cock stirring in his boxer shorts. Amber felt it, let it loose out the leg hole, pushed her panties aside and slipped it in to her pussy. Their bodies were both well used after the long night, but the slow fuck in the sun felt glorious. They were surrounded by the rooftops of other industrial buildings, some converted to lofts with rooftop patios like Jock's. Whether anyone was watching in the distance didn't even cross their minds; they just made sweet love in the sunshine. ——————— "Hey baby, wanna go for a ride tomorrow?" The voice on the phone was Squirt, another 'friend with benefits' Jock had known for about a year. Standing four feet and eleven inches in her bare feet, she was a perfectly proportioned, rough around the edges biker girl. "Jess and I are gonna ride up to the camp and get the water hooked up," she said. "Wanna come along?" "I'm in," Jock said. Bright and early the next morning they met at Jock's place. Squirt and Jess both rode Harley Sportsters, Jess's a mostly stock 'Iron' model, and Squirt's pretty heavily customized by a friend of Jock's who does bikes and hot rods. They roared up the street through the long shadows of the low morning sun, Squirt with straight pipes echoing off the old warehouses, and pulled into Jock's open garage. "That sounds sweet," Jock said. "New pipes?" "Yeah, Arnie had it over the winter and did a few things for me," Squirt said. "Holy fuck!" she said when she saw the Jag. "That's fuckin hot!" The two girls took off their helmets, dismounted and shook out their hair. "Hey Jess, how are ya?" Jock said. "I'm good," she said, with an 'I've never fucked you but I want too' look in her eye. "Looks like life's still treatin' you well." "I sure can't complain," Jock said. "You better never complain you asshole," Squirt said. "You got the best life of anybody I know of." She wandered over to the Jag and ran her hand over the voluptuous fender. "Fuck," she said. "Tell me about it." "It's a '71, been a race car most of it's life. I saw it last summer and knew I had to have it. Took a lot of work to get it to this point though." Squirt walked around it, admiring all the angles. "No, way! You've got plates on it? How the fuck did you do that?" "I had to get a little creative. It's a blast on the road. I took it up to Grey Cliff a couple weeks ago." "All right, we don't have time today, but I'm definitely gettin' a ride in this thing, right?" "You know it," Jock said. "You too Jess. Stop by any time." "I'll do that," Jess said, her eyes twinkling with the possibilities. Jock hinged the big hood forward and Squirt gasped. "What?!" she said, looking surprised at the gleaming full-race V-12 stuffed in the chassis. "Oh my fuckin' God, I just came a little bit." "You're such a motorhead," Jess laughed. "It is kinda hot though." "Hot isn't the word for it sweetheart," Squirt said. "Fuckin' sex machine's more like it." "It's around five-hundred horses I'm guessing," Jock said. "I'll get it on the dino next month maybe. The car's super light weight, so it goes pretty good." "We better get outta here," Squirt said, shaking her head. "That things gonna make me take off all my clothes." Jock and Jess laughed. The girls mounted their Sportsters and Jock rolled out his '75 BMW R75/6, a super clean, minimalist bobber in dark candy-apple red that he and their friend Arnie had built a few years back. He pulled on a denim jacket and a 'brain bucket' helmet and they roared off down the road. A nice ride brought them to 'the camp'. It was an old hunting cabin, not much more than a shack by today's standards, about fifty miles outside the city on the edge of a vast tract of state land. Most folks would own something like it to hunt from, but Squirt used it as party central, far away from anyone who might complain. It was off the grid and rustic as hell, but Jock had to admit the place had its charms. He was there one memorable night when the orgy of the century broke out, and he had a feeling that kind of thing wasn't too uncommon. The three of them rolled down the long dirt driveway, really no more than two tire tracks worn into a grassy field, and parked their bikes. Squirt unlashed the twelve pack of beer they'd picked up down the road a few miles, she unlocked the padlock on the door and they went inside the dusty old camp. The remnants of a previous party littered the tables, and a mouse shot out through a hole in the floor when it saw humans invading its space. The roughly built structure was long and narrow, one big room with a double bed at either end, a big, worn out dining table in the middle and a 'kitchen' area next to the door. A big curtain made from bed-sheets hung on a wire that stretched across the room, to give a little bit of privacy to one of the beds if wanted. The beds were both unmade, with rumpled sheets and blankets. The walls were decorated with magazine pictures and posters held up with thumbtacks — motorcycle 'beauty shots', a pin-up girl bent over a '32 highboy hot rod, a portrait of Dennis Hopper, an abstract blacklite poster of two naked bodies in a kind of circular sixty-nine, and a couple of playboy centerfolds — a redhead and a raven haired beauty, both with huge tits. "God, this place is a disaster," Jess said when they walked in. "Yeah. Haven't cleaned up since the last blow-out. I'm such a slob," Squirt said. Jess spied a box of trash bags on the counter and started filling one with empty beer cans. "So what do we have to do with the water?" Jock asked. "Oh, I just need someone to help me prime the pump," Squirt said. "I drain it all down for the winter. There's a spring in the woods it draws out of." The two of them went out the back door onto a weathered wooden deck. Amber reached under the steps and pulled out a plastic bucket and they trudged off into the woods. They made sure the intake pipe was under water, filled the bucket and walked back to the pump outside the camp. Amber started pumping while jock poured water into an opening to prime it. After a few strokes the handle broke off in Amber's hand. "Fuuuck!" she said. They examined the rusty bolt that had held it on. "Wore right through. Just need a new one," Jock said. "Fuckin' A. Hardware store I guess," Squirt said. "You feel like ridin' up there while I help Jess clean?" "Sure. Where is it?" "Just go outta here and take a right. It's on this road, about fifteen miles though." "No Problem. I'll get a couple so you got a spare for ten years from now," Jock smiled. "Anything else while I'm there? What else needs fixing?" "Fuckin' whole place," Squirt smiled. "No, lets just do this and have a few beers." Jock roared off on his old BMW. About forty minutes later he returned, rumbling quietly down the grassy path. Squirt greeted him at the door wearing nothing but small black leather panties. "Hi baby," she said with a smile. "We've got a surprise for ya. Jess has always wanted to fuck you, but she's shy, so I fixed it up nice for you guys. Wanna see?" "Of course," Jock said. He handed her the two bolts and they walked inside. The first thing that caught his eye was how much better the place looked, free of the detritus of the last party. Then a fleshy object on one of the beds caught his peripheral vision. It was Jess, naked on her back, tied spread-eagle fashion to the bed frame, with a big blindfold on and a leather gag in her mouth. Squirt took Jock's arm and walked him closer. He could hear Jess's breathing get heavier as they approached her, her soft belly and tits starting to heave. "Doesn't she look nice, all ready to fuck?" Squirt said. "I got her pussy all nice 'n wet for ya." "Nice isn't the word I'd use," Jock said. "Fuckin' hot's more like it! Damn Jess! You good with all this?" Jess moaned and nodded, her breathing short and deep through flaring nostrils. "I'm gonna suck on your cock baby," Squirt said as she unfastened Jock's jeans. "Jess can listen and get all hot and bothered." On her knees Squirt was so small she had to stretch her neck to reach Jock's half-hard cock. The first half of it filled her small mouth, but as it hardened she opened her throat and took it all like a pro. She was a sexy little thing, that was for sure. She made plenty of noise for Jess to hear. "God I love this cock," she said as she held it against Jock's belly and licked up the veiny underside of it. "It's a fuckin' big one Jess. Think you can handle a fuckin' big one like this?" Jess moaned and pulled gently at her restraints. Squirt climbed onto the end of the bed between Jess's outstretched legs. "I don't know," Squirt said. "He might be too big for you. Let me check and see what this looks like again." She licked up the length of Jess's wet pussy, pausing for some tongue flicking on her clit. Jess moaned deeply, her whole body seeming to vibrate from it. "Jock's naked now baby, and he's got his hand on his big cock. You know those big hands of his? They can't begin to hold all of that big hard cock he's got. You ready for it baby," Squirt said, licking the length of Jess's pussy again. "You ready for it?" Jess moaned and nodded eagerly, her body language making it clear she was more than ready. Jock joined them on the bed, palming Jess's nice tits in his big, rough hands. Squirt sat up on her knees and watched, swallowing the feminine taste in her mouth. Jock licked one of Jess's big hard nipples, and then the other. He sucked them in one at a time and played with them with his tongue and teeth. One hand moved down Jess's heaving belly to the hot wet heat between her legs, so slippery and inviting. Two fingers disappeared inside. "You like those big hands Jess?" Squirt asked, "Do they feel good all over you like that?" She moaned again, biting on the leather gag in her mouth. Her back arched up as Jock fingered her, and he feasted on her tits some more. "You all wet baby?" Squirt asked. "Your pussy all nice and juicy for Jock's big cock? He's gonna fuck you so hard girl. Way deep inside you. His cock looks so nice. I wish you could see it. Oh my God, it's so fuckin' big. You think it's gonna fit Jess?" Jock sucked on Jess's big tits and fingered her until she couldn't stand it any more, writhing and moaning like a caged animal. He positioned himself between her legs, lifting her thighs just enough for his knees to go under. One thrust put him halfway into the glistening wet pussy. Jess's moan was a muffled squeal, and then another as Jock pulled back and thrust in farther. His hands fondled her tits again. Two more thrusts had him all the way in. "Oh fuck yeah!" Squirt said, fingering her own pussy as she knelt beside them. "That's hot you guys. Fuck!" She bent down and whispered in Jess's ear as Jock got into a rhythm. "I told you he had a sweet cock, didn't I? You like the way he's fuckin' you?" Jess nodded enthusiastically, breathing heavily out her nostrils. "I wanna kiss you. You wanna watch Jock fucking you?" Jess nodded again. Squirt took off the blindfold and unfastened the leather gag. Jess locked her big wild eyes on Jock. "Ohhh Fuuuuck!," she moaned. "Your tits look so good with your arms tied up like that," Squirt said. She fondled her friends soft orbs as Jock fucked her good, picking up speed. "Yeah baby, give it to her!" Squirt said. "Fuck yeah!" Squirt got up and untied Jess's legs, freeing them for a more proper pounding. Jock lifted them up against his chest so he could go deeper, his body slapping into her, making her tits flail wildly. "Yeah! Fuck that girl!" Squirt yelled. A huge orgasm boiled up from deep inside Jess. She pulled wildly at her arm restraints and her moans and groans rose up into staccato screams. "Yeah! Yeah! Oh fuck Yeah!" Squirt yelled as she watched her friend scream as she came hard. As Jess's body went from out of control to rag doll mush Jock pulled out and came all over her, the first sticky ribbon making it all the way to her neck, the rest splashing down all over her heaving belly. "Fuckin' A!" Squirt said, mesmerized by the sight of it all. She moved in on Jock, inhaling his still throbbing cock, sucking it dry as it started to soften. "Fuck!" Jock said softly. Jess just lay there, eyes closed, chest still heaving, unable to speak. "How was that honey?" Squirt said, looking up at Jock. "Was that a nice surprise?" "You guys are too much," he said, still breathless. "We should go riding more often." ——————— Jock brought the Jag to the track again the next weekend. It was a private facility — a racing 'country club' for wealthy car guys actually — open seven days a week, but Jock enjoyed the camaraderie and energy of the weekend crowd. Bill and Jane were there, Jane sitting under a tree reading a magazine when Jock pulled in. Her body language was that of relaxed boredom, but when she saw Jock she perked up. Bill had a new acquisition with him for the weekend — a '73 Lancia Stratos racecar. A stunningly angular little thing in white, red and green livery with gold wheels, the short wheelbase mid-engine cars are known to be a handful to drive. Bill brought along his favorite mechanic for the weekend, a jovial Italian named Nunzio, to try and sort out the car's twitchy handling and get the little V6 screamer up to speed. "Hi Jocky," Jane said. She had snuck around the back of his motorcoach as he was setting up his big awning. "Janey! Whats up?" Jock said with a smile. "I hope you are later. I'm so horny for you. I was hoping you'd be here this weekend." "Careful honey. We gotta keep this under the radar you know." "I know. But I'm so hot I can't even stand it. Bill hardly even touches me anymore." "He's crazy." "Come in here and kiss me," she said. She walked into the back of his motorcoach, where the Jag was parked, those tight jeans she wears showing off her swinging ass like they were painted on. She walked the length of the car, running her fingers along its voluptuous shape, stopping in the dim light in the back corner. "Come here Jocky. Kiss me." "You're gonna get us both in big trouble," Jock said as he approached her. They kissed and Jock's hand went up inside Jane's cotton blouse. She was either bra-less that day, or had taken it off for her visit. The heat rose rapidly and Jock wanted to drag her inside and fuck her silly. Jane wanted it too, but voices outside helped them regain their sanity. Jock went out and looked around. He signaled Jane. "I'll find you," she said as she scurried off, those painted on pants making Jock's already hard cock twinge. An opportunity never arose that day, and Jock's main priority was getting the Jag's suspension fine-tuned a bit more. A friend from the racing world had driven up that afternoon to help him. An experienced driver and good mechanic, Davey was a big help with the Jag's chassis adjustments. The two took turns with the car on the track, and they tried a bunch of different set-up changes with the suspension, eventually zeroing in on an amazing amount of grip and control in the lightweight car. After a long day of play they sat under the big awning and drank beer as the late spring twilight faded. "Jock, can I talk to you for a minute?" Jane said from the near darkness between the motorcoaches. Jock got up and went to her. "You never got with me baby," she whispered longingly. "I'm so horny I can't stand it." "Sorry honey, Davey came up and we've been busy." "When's he leaving? I've gotta have you tonight." "Sorry baby, he's stayin' here tonight." "Can you meet me somewhere? Where can we go?" "I don't think it's in the cards this weekend Janey. We'll make up for it though. We always do." "No!" Jane whined quietly. "Please Jockey? Don't make me beg for it." She gently squeezed Jock's blue jean covered cock and kissed him softly. "Next time Jane. I'll do you double good. Or maybe we can meet in the city this week." Jock was surprised he said that. Starting an 'in the city' affair with Jane was not something he wanted to get into, but Jane looked so disappointed he felt like he had to say something. Jane's eyes flared when she heard the offer. "Really?" she whispered excitedly. "Can I come to your place?" "We'll talk about it. I'll give you my number tomorrow." Jane disappeared into the darkness after another soft kiss. "Friend of yours?" Davey smirked. "A complicated one," Jock said. "Say no more," Davey said. "Wish I could get a slice of somethin' like that." "If you like danger I can probably hook you up," Jock said. After a few more beers they turned in for the night, Jock in the small bedroom and Davey on the couch. A little after midnight the door squeaked open. Davey didn't hear it, and Jane stepped in quietly. Some little LED lights on a control panel gave just enough light for her to see as she made her way silently to the bedroom. All she had on were some cotton pajamas that slipped off and landed silently on the floor. Jock woke as she climbed onto the double bed. "Janey, you're crazy!" Jock said as he realized what was happening. "Shhhh," Jane whispered. "Just fuck me baby." She pulled off Jock's boxer shorts and inhaled his soft cock. In no time at all it swelled and hardened in her mouth as she moaned quietly. "Oh fuck yeah," she whispered. "God you taste good." She kept the big cock in her mouth as she threw her leg over Jock's head, and she lowered her pussy to his dry mouth. The taste of her juiced up his tongue, and he was moaning too as he licked deep. After a nice long sixty-nine, she sat up and crawled forward, sinking down on Jock's cock reverse cowgirl style with a loud moan. It woke Davey and she heard him in the bathroom on the other side of the thin wall. "What's your friend's name?" she asked as she rode Jock slowly. "Davey," Jock said quietly. "Davey," she called out. "Davey come in here. I wanna fuck you too." The toilet flushed and there was a quiet silence. "Davey?" she said again. The bedroom door opened slowly. "You wanna fuck me Davey?" she said when she saw him. Jock was on his back and Jane was riding him slowly, facing the door, with her tits in her hands. "Wanna play with me?" Illuminated by the bathroom light, she could she a lump growing in his boxers as he watched her. "Let me see your cock baby," she said as she rode up and down on Jock. "Come here and let me suck on it." Davey stripped off his shorts and kneeled on the end of the bed. Jane lowered her upper body, still fucking Jock, and took Davey in her moaning mouth. They stayed like that for a few minutes, Jane reveling in the feeling of being filled at both ends. "Fuuuck!" she said breathily. "This is nice!" After some more fucking and sucking she was eager to feel things the other way around. She repositioned, taking Jock's big one in her mouth with her ass up in the air at the edge of the bed. "Stick it in me Davey," she said. Davey got off the bed and fucked her nice and slow, his still sleepy brain warming up to his good fortune. Jane's super fine ass looked spectacular in the dim light, his hands feeling the smooth softness of it as he caressed and squeezed her hips. Twelve Cylinders, One Piston "Oh yeah, that feels good Davey. Fuck me harder..." she sighed. She went back to her passionate sucking and stroking of Jock and Davey went at her more forcefully, working up to a full pelvic slap. Jock played with the flailing tits under her and moaned as her sucking brought him close to the brink. Her mouth was relentless on his slippery shaft, and he came with a jolt, trying to keep quiet so the other motorcoaches wouldn't hear them in the quiet night. Jane slurped up the sticky cum. "Oh fuck!" she grunted low as Davey hit her with some powerful, bone-rattling thrusts, her whole body shuddering with each impact. "Fuuuck! Yeaahhh!" she grunted like a devil woman. The deep, powerful fucking continued until they both came, Davey moaning deep as he pumped her full of his spunk, Jane crying out as quietly as she could as a big orgasm swept though her. It was probably too loud on such a quiet night in the camping area, but it was the best she could do. She slithered off the bed and sucked Davey dry. When his cock had withered some she stood up, picked up her pajamas, said "Thanks boys," and walked out naked into the garage area, shutting the door behind her. She pulled on her pajamas in the moonlit darkness and made her way back to her sleeping husband. Davey's cum leaked out of her as she walked and the legs of her pajamas were wet with it when she climbed into bed. Jock was relieved to see Bill smiling the next day when he brought Nunzio over to see Jock's E-type. They looked over the engine and the suspension, Nunzio nodding and giving approval in his broken English. Jane wandered over when they were there, looking casual, as if nothing had happened the night before. Davey drank in the sight of her, her big tits loose again under a little black designer t-shirt, her ridiculous ass in full wiggle mode under skin-tight stretch pants. "Who's your friend Jock," she said with a mischievous wink. "Oh I'm sorry Jane, this is Davey. He came up to help me sort the car." "Hi Davey. Always nice to make a new friend," she said. "Yeah," Davey said, not knowing quite what to say. "Yeah, me too." Jane winked at him and turned to her husband. "I'm going to lie in the sun for a while dear," she said. She spent the rest of the day in a tiny bikini on a lounge chair, reading a book and sipping iced tea. She was within sight of most of the paddock, and plenty of guys were taking notice. "What's her story man?" Davey asked as he and Jock wrenched on the Jag between laps. "Hell if I know," Jock said. "She's a sweet girl, but I don't know what she's got herself into. Aging trophy wife who's not gettin' much at home I guess. She seduced the hell outta me, that's all I know for sure," Jock laughed. "Bill's not the kind of guy you wanna get on the wrong side of, so don't ask me why I'm flirtin' with disaster. Sometimes a guy just doesn't know." "I hear ya," Davey said as he bolted one of the Jag's fat wheels back on the car. After some more hot laps the afternoon shadows started to grow. Jock and Davey put the car away and packed up their gear, preparing for the trip back to the city. Jane startled them, appearing out of nowhere behind them, still in her little bikini. "You promised me your number and a meet-up this week, remember?" she said to Jock. "I don't know if that's such a good idea baby," Jock said. "You promised!" Jane pouted. "Don't worry, I won't get all clingy. We can keep it quiet. I'll just drive over to your place. Nobody'll know. You too Davey, wanna get together sometime?" "Last night was all kinds of fun," Davey said, "but I don't know if I'm into a regular thing." "Well that's a shame. You felt good in me. I slept with your cum all over my legs. Still got a little maybe," she said, bending one knee and spreading her thighs open to have a look. Jock scribbled out his cell number and address on the back of a grimy business card he had in his toolbox. Jane slipped it into the front of her little bikini, right up against her pussy. "I'll call you baby," she said to Jock. "Love ya Davey. Hope I see you again." As she walked away the world stood still as the ass of all asses wiggled under an impossibly thin piece of cotton. "Damn!" Davey said, shaking his head. "Did I just say no to that?" ——————— June rolled around quickly, and with it came Grand Prix weekend in Montreal. It cost a small fortune, but Jock scored seats in the gold grandstand right across from the pits, the perfect place for Amber to watch her first Formula One standing start. He let her pick her ride of choice for the trip, and she chose his '67 Mustang fastback, a white resto-mod with a 351 stroker, a five-speed and Martz suspension. It was the perfect choice for blasting down the Canadian highways at warp speed, which is what you have to do if you want to keep up with Canadians. They rolled into town late on Friday due to Amber's waitress job, checked in at their out-of-the-way hotel and hit Old Montreal for a late dinner at a small basement restaurant Jock had been to. A bottle of wine, rack of lamb for two, big slices of decadent chocolate cake and dark coffee fueled them for the rest of the evening. They walked the old cobblestone streets for a while with the other tourists, but Amber wanted something different. "A guy I know told me the strip clubs are awesome up here," she said. "Your friend is correct," Jock said. They got in the Mustang after answering a question about it from a passer-by, and shot over to Rue St. Catherine, strip club central. "Oh my God!" Amber said as they passed by club after club with hordes of people milling about. "This is nightlife!" They stopped at Club Downtown and feasted their eyes on some of the sexiest strippers either one of them had ever seen. There was a hefty crowd with the Grand Prix in town and the place was buzzing. "I always wanted to strip, but I always thought I was too fat for it," Amber said as they watched a ridiculously alluring girl work the pole. "Are you kidding? There isn't a guy in here that wouldn't love to see you naked right now. I'm sure you've noticed them looking at you all night." "I thought it was because there's hardly any women in here." "No," Jock said, shaking his head. "They want to fuck you." The thought clearly got to Amber. "I'm ready for a night in a hotel with you. Can we get outta here?" she said. Back at their room Amber showed Jock how youthful exuberance trumps experience under the right circumstances. They fucked every which-way, loud and nasty, until their neighbors banged the wall and the front desk called. At that point they were pretty well exhausted after the long day, and slept like babies in each others arms. After brunch at a big downtown hotel, they parked and walked across the long bridge over the St. Laurence to the track. Amber was mesmerized by the qualifying session — the blistering speed of the cars and the way the drivers committed to the turn 13/14 complex leading onto the front straight past their seats. "Un-fucking-believable!" she said more than once. After a dinner of rustic French food in a nice little bistro in the old city, they drove up Mount Royal and fucked in the woods overlooking the city. "I think I love this town," Amber said. The excitement of race day had Amber bubbling with enthusiasm. Jock loved sharing a motorsports event with someone who was so happy to be there. The race was exciting, but Team Williams didn't do as well as Amber had hoped they would. It mattered little in the end — her first Formula One race was thrilling, and the whole weekend was a wonderful blur of good food, fast cars and great sex. On the way home, roaring down a Canadian highway in the Mustang at ninety-miles-an-hour, which isn't much more than 'keeping up with traffic' in Canada, Amber opened Jock's jeans and gave him a sweet blowjob. He came just as they got nailed in a speed trap. He and Amber had a good laugh as she tidied him up for the officer. ——————— Jane had stopped by Jock's place a few times at that point. He was still nervous about the situation — getting involved with a married woman, especially the wife of a powerful man, wasn't his usual thing — but Jane was a temptress and he had trouble resisting her. A few days after he returned from Montreal she was back in his bed. Davey was there too. Jane had loved the threeway thing, and wanted to do it again in a situation where she didn't have to be so discrete. She wanted a nice long session with the boys, where she could really cut loose. Davey resisted when Jock called him about it, but a half-hour later he called Jock back, unable to say no to Jane's charms. The party started just after noon, and hours were spent taking care of Jane's plentiful desires. She wanted every hole filled, every which way and numerous times, and the boys were happy to oblige. Jane didn't want to, but she called it quits about four o'clock, needing to get home and take care of a few things before going out to a dinner party with Bill. The boys walked her out, the three of them smiling, discussing 'next time' as they stood on the sidewalk outside Jock's building. Jane looked every bit the sexy fuck-toy, dressed in impossibly short shorts and a thin white sleeveless shirt that was barely buttoned, her big bra-less tits busting at the seams, her hair still messy. What they didn't notice, parked up the street, was the dirty, dark green Ford Explorer with the private investigator behind the wheel, taking pictures with a long zoom lens as Jane kissed both the boys, wet kisses with lots of tongue, playfully squeezing their crotches before climbing into her dark-red Mercedes SLK roadster and zooming off into the bright afternoon sun. ——————— In the North-East the first big vintage race event of the season takes place at Mid-Ohio Sports Car Course in late June. It was Jock's first time out with the Jag in a competition environment with trophies on the line. Jane had told him Bill was planning on attending. His mechanic Nunzio drove the motorcoach, towing one of Bill's Ferraris in an enclosed trailer behind it. Bill and Jane flew in on Saturday. Jock drove his own motorcoach of course, and he would be his own mechanic for the weekend, taking his usual low-key approach to the whole endeavor. It was just as well that Davey didn't go along to help him out, because he and Davey and Jane had been hitting the wild sex thing pretty hard for the last few weeks, and Jock didn't want her to do anything she'd regret with Bill around. In fact he'd told her it was a 'hands off' weekend, something she reluctantly went along with as long as the three of them could be together on the Thursday before the race. Jane had gone a little wild with double penetration up on Jock's roof deck with he and Davey that day, and unbeknownst to them Bill's private detective had captured the whole thing on video from another roof in the neighborhood. The poor guy was so hot and bothered by what he was witnessing he was tempted to blackmail Jane into fucking him before he turned the footage over, but he came to his senses and just did his job. Bill's demeanor was icy cold when he and Jock met in the driver's meeting Saturday morning. Very few words were spoken between the two, and Jock had a bad feeling about it. He told Jane about it when they had a few minutes alone, but Jane assured him it was nothing new, Bill had just been under a lot of pressure with his work the last few weeks, or so he said. For the race that weekend Bill had brought his 1970 Ferrari 365 Daytona Competizione, a car that was in the same class as Jock's XK-E. In the first practice session Jock was happy to see he was competitive with Bill's professionally prepared car. The Daytona seemed to be quicker than the Jag, but Jock had the edge in driver skill, and they ended up pretty even on the time sheets after the practice. Jock had decided to keep his distance Saturday evening, and after working on his front brakes and checking a few things on the rear suspension he turned in early, half expecting Jane to sneak in to his bedroom in the night. She didn't. Sunday dawned with clear skies, turning into a picture-perfect early Summer day, and the event drew big crowds at the track. With all the fans milling around the paddock Jock had plenty to keep his mind off Jane, chatting with passers-by about the Jag, and just enjoying the atmosphere he loved so much. When Jock went inside to change into his race uniform Jane left a note on the Jag's seat. If you beat him I'll bring my friend Tracy over this week for a 4 way She signed it with a smiley-face. Jock had a feeling it would happen anyway — once Jane got a sexual idea in her head she always seemed compelled to make it happen — but beating Bill's Daytona Coupe would be pretty sweet, and if this mysterious 'Tracy' was anywhere near as hot as Jane, yup, that was worth racing for. There were fourteen cars in Jock's race. Once they got under way it was clear he and Bill were in it to win it, unfazed by the risk to their cars. Some of the others were taking less risk, there to have fun more than race, but Jock and Bill and two others were going at it tooth and nail, giving the big crowd a good battle at the front of the field. After three laps the fight for the lead was between Jock and Bill, with a Shelby Cobra close behind. That's when things started getting ugly. They were flat-out down the back stretch when Bill pulled up alongside Jock. They went through the kink side by side, Bill on the inside line. He drifted out and hit Jock, nudging him even farther out onto the dirty side of the track. At 140 miles-per-hour Jock fought for control and tucked in behind the Ferrari. On the next lap they were in the same position, Jock inching past Bill through the kink, and Bill hit him harder, farther back by his rear wheel. It was obviously intentional, and the fans on that part of the track stood and pointed as Jock lost grip and hit the outside wall hard. The left front suspension was crushed, ripping the steering wheel from Jock's hands. He spun back onto the track and has hit hard in the driver side by the Cobra. It all happened in about three seconds time. Twenty minutes later he was on a helicopter, unconscious, his left arm and left leg badly broken. Jock's world had gone dark. At some point on the helicopter ride to the hospital his awareness started coming back to him, but it was far from normal. The darkness persisted, but sounds were either making their way through or being generated inside his head, odd sounds, stretched and droning, muffled but somehow wondrous. He heard what sounded like his name, but it sounded more like music than a voice. At some point — he didn't know when — he felt a sexual touch. Lips against his skin. A soft lick up his thigh. A kiss on the soft skin of his crotch. A mouth enveloping his soft penis. "Jock?" a soft, musical, dream-like voice said. "Isn't she beautiful Jock?" "Jock?" another soft voice said. "Do you like us? Would you like us to take you home?" More mouths kissed him. Soft, warm lips and feather-like tongues. Fingertips with the delicacy of gossamer brushed his skin. Gradually a visual picture appeared, an out of focus blur of fleshy women, impossibly soft looking, with luminous eyes and dream-like smiles. They surrounded him, twelve visions of femininity, kissing him all over with warm, wet mouths. His swelling cock went into the mouth of another. She moaned as it finished growing, his long length filling her throat. As she let it slip out a silvery thread of liquid connected them until one of the others lowered her pussy on it. The sense of being enveloped was like nothing he'd ever experienced. "Do you like us Jock?" a new, even more musical voice said. "Would you like us to take you home?" The woman fucking him must be an athlete, a gymnast maybe, Jock thought, so light was she on her feet. He'd never felt a woman's insides that felt like her, a warm pussy that caressed his big cock like a hundred feathers, feathers warm from an oven that smelled like vanilla and maple. A kiss from a weightless tongue quenched his sudden hunger. "We all want to fuck you Jock. Do you want to fuck us all, before we take you with us?" a new voice said. "Yes!" Jock wanted to say, but he couldn't. The twelve lovers knew his answer, and smiled through the blurry haze. Two of the women took his hands and placed them on their soft breasts, another lowered a spectacular dangling tit to his mouth, and he tasted the softness. Another took the place of the feathery pussy, and a warmer, wetter tunnel of bliss enveloped his cock. He came almost instantly. "Oh Jock, now you need to cum inside all of us, or it's just not fair," another voice said, and all the women giggled. Their laughter echoed and intermingled, sounding like wind chimes as it dissipated in the dark, blurry light. Jock lost what little focus he had and his world went dark again, back to nothing but droning blobs of sound, and then the fuzzy light came back. "Are you with us baby?" a soft voice said. "You've got ten more before we take you. If you want us all." An ethereal woman mounted him and moaned. "Oh, this is nice..." she sighed as she gently rode Jock. He felt like he was deeper in her than anything or anyone he could remember, like he was fucking her whole insides, the tip of his cock tickling her warm heart. He could feel it beating. "Do you like her Jock?" another woman said. "She's special, can you tell?" "Yes!" he wanted to say, but they knew. His thoughts were in their heads. Another warm, feathery pussy was next, this one between the soft legs of a lighthearted woman with a crystalline giggle. Her laugh seemed to help Jock focus, and out of the blur her light blue eyes and red hair made Jock smile. "Doctor!" Ursula yelled, running out into the hallway after the neurologist who'd just left. "He smiled! I saw him smile!" "It's a positive sign, but don't get your hopes up too much," the doctor said as he checked Jock's pupils with his little flashlight. "Stay with him. You're good for him." Ursula settled in for another long night. It would be her fourth since she'd arrived the day after Jock's crash. "Jocky?" a soft, naked beauty said. "Can you fuck me next baby? I can't stand watching anymore. You're such a beautiful man." She nearly floated into the reverse cowgirl position, settling down on Jock's seemingly perpetual hardness. "I know you like asses baby," she said softly. "You like mine?" She folded herself in half, holding onto Jock's ankles as her hips fucked him, her ass nothing short of perfection as Jock's new sense of focus watched her pussy work his shaft. He was wishing he could taste the white cream that lubricated her, and without any words spoken two women scooped up some on their fingers and put them into Jock's mouth. "She taste's so good, doesn't she?" one of them said. Jock came with a grunt, his body spasming a few times. "Nurse! He's moving!" Ursula yelled out the door. The nurse and an intern looked Jock over. "This is good," the nurse said. "A smile last night and a body movement today. Positive signs. You getting any rest?" she asked Ursula. "A little," Ursula said with a tired smile. "I want you to fuck me doggie, but you're not ready," a soft voice said. "I think he's going back," another woman said. "No! Not yet! Some of us didn't get our turn!" She climbed on and settled, her pussy feeling to Jock like warm pudding, and then she squeezed. "Oh, you like that, don't you baby," another woman said. "She's got muscles in there." Sitting perfectly still on top of Jock, with a big smile on her face, she caressed his cock with her inside muscles, like she was milking a cow. Jock came hard, squirting cum so deep in her she could almost taste it. Twelve Cylinders, One Piston Another woman climbed on, worked his softening cock in, and he hardened inside of her. "We're gonna wear the poor boy out. If he's going back he's going to need his strength," a woman said. "If he's going back we won't have another chance," another woman said. "He won't be this beautiful next time." She lowered her pussy to his face and kissed the woman fucking him. "Oh yeah!" she sighed. Jock came again, and then another woman took her place on him, and then another. He came each time. The tenth woman gave him an amazing blowjob and then lowered herself on his throbbing cock at the last minute to take his seed. Number eleven rode him without touching him, her body hovering as if by magic, her heavy breathing seemingly enough to move her up and down. Her's was another pussy seemingly made of feathers, and it tickled yet another shot of cream out of him. The orgasms seemed to rise up out of nowhere, with no thought or physicality behind them. They were like pure energy. Number twelve was another redhead — bright, golden red hair that almost glowed. She was tiny in stature but commanded everyone's attention with her strange, otherworldly movements. "You're going back Jock," she said, her voice seeming to come from all the women's mouths. "We'll miss you..." Her head moved side to side, like a predator sizing up its prey, but there was nothing scary about her. Jock could see her clearly, more clearly than any of the others, and she radiated warmth and love. Her light-green eyes were luminous pools, reflecting all the other faces looking at him. She reached out and took his hard cock in her small, soft hand. "We'll miss you Jock," she said as she examined it. She lowered her face to it and kissed the side of it, licking along its length before slipping it into her mouth, against her cheek. She maneuvered it like a popsicle, her tongue slithering along the length of it as she filled her mouth with it in different ways. Her leg moved over Jock as if weightless, sixty-nining him as she moaned. Jock moaned too. "There! Did you hear it!" Ursula said to the nurse who was leaving. "Yup. He's moving more. I'll get the doctor," the nurse said. The petite redhead took Jock's cock deep in her throat. He could feel the vibration of her moan as he devoured her wet pussy with his mouth, his tongue going deep, his taste buds firing with the honey-sweetness of her. She tasted sweeter, and felt more real, than any of the others. As the doctor examined him Jock moaned again, his mouth open, his body twitching slightly. "I'm the last one Jock," the redhead said. "I wish you could remember us. We'll remember you..." Without him knowing how, she was turned around, laying on him as the other girls guided his cock into her pussy. It felt as luminous as her eyes, like it was full of light. Warm and soft, feathery and muscular, it took his cock in and gave it life. An orgasm swept over both of them that took them out of this world. Jock moaned with shallow breaths, and then deep breaths filled his lungs. He looked into the redhead's eyes. She was flying too, cumming in a delicious, long orgasm that connected them to the heavens. "Goodbye Jock..." she sighed as the magical orgasm swept her away. Jock lay sweating in the hospital bed, his body twitching, his hand squeezing Ursula's. His eyes opened slowly, just a little, and he saw her. She smiled with tears in her eyes. "It's good to see you young man," the doctor said. ——————— "So you don't remember anything," Davey asked Jock two weeks later at Jock's place. "I remember starting the race, and Ursula in the hospital room. That's it." "Wow. The asshole tried to kill you. I know he did," Davey said. "Yeah, well, you better be careful, he might know about you too." "I found the note from Jane in your motorhome, about the four-way," Davey said. "She's called me every day to see how you're doing." "Well that's nice, but I'm done with that," Jock said. "Are you still seeing her?" "I haven't, but I don't know if I can turn that off," Davey said. "She want's me to meet her over at Tracy's place sometime." "I've never met Tracy, but I can see how that'd be hard to say no too." "Yeah," Davey said. I knew goin' down this road with Jane was a bad idea, but damn!" "What are we talking about?" Ursula said as she walked into the room. "Rear-ends and pistons," Jock said. "Ooo! Sounds sexy!" Ursula said. "Now I know why you guys like cars." "Your rear-end's way better than anything with gears in it," Jock said. "You're sweet," she said, bending to kiss him. "How's the pain? You doing okay?" "I'm fine sweetie," Jock said. "Davey, come get me when you leave, all right?" Ursula said. "I'm going up on the roof for some sun." "Yeah, sure thing," Davey said. After she left Jock told Davey about the dreams he had been having. "I don't know if it's the pain pills or what man," Jock said. "I keep having visions of these angels. At least I think they're angels." "Man, you were pretty close to dead there for a while," Davey said. "The doctors were pretty grim. Maybe there's more to these visions than you think." "You believe in that stuff?" Jock asked. "Heaven and angels and shit? Yeah, I guess so," Davey said. "I mean, sort of, you know?" "I never did man, but these visions...there more like memories, like super real, you know?" "Have you told Ursula about them?" "No. They're super sexual. It's wild, they were fuckin' the shit out of me." "No shit!" Davey said, his eyes big and curious. "Naked angels? Fuckin' you?" "Yeah man. Twelve of 'em. They wanted me to go with them at first, and then they said I was going back. I guess they meant back to being alive or somethin'. I don't know. It's super vivid though man. It's in my head like it really happened. I don't know what to think." "Suddenly I don't mind dying so much," Davey said with a smile. "There's one more big revelation that came out of all this," Jock said. "As soon as I get these casts off and can walk again, you wanna be the best man at my wedding?" "Ursula? You bet man! I'm honored!" "She hasn't said yes yet. She thinks it's the pain meds that made me ask her, but it's the real deal. I'm as good as married." "Awesome," Davey said. "You guys are good for each other." "Do me a favor and find a buyer for that wrecked Jag, will ya?" "Yeah, sure man," Davey said. "You wrecked it big-time, but the engine and tranny are good I think, and some other stuff. Yeah, I know someone who'll probably take it." "Good," Jock said. "I need to find a car for Ursula. What do you think, maybe one of those early '60's Maserati 3500's, or somethin' like that? She seems like a Maserati girl. I want to give it to her for a wedding present." "Yeah, that'd be sweet! She'd look right at home in something like that," Davey said. "Or maybe a Facel Vega. They're kinda similar." "Yeah!" Jock said. "Get me my laptop, will ya?" The two of them scoured classic car dealer websites for an hour or more. "You still here Davey?" Ursula said as she walked into the bright, sunny room. She was wearing the bikini she had been sunning herself in, and looked about as stunning as a woman can be. The boys looked up from the computer, speechless at her femininity. Ursula smiled. Boys, she thought. A little skin and they go all wonky. "What are you, watchin' porn or something?" she laughed. "Just cars Sweetie," Jock said. She walked around behind them and looked at the screen. "Ooo, I like that!" she said. "What is it?" "A '62 Maserati. Nice smooth six-cylinder engine. A touring car, nice and civilized." "Looks like something a movie star would drive back then," she said. "Yeah, I can picture Sofia Loren in one. She's got nothin' on you you know," Jock said. "You're funny," Ursula chuckled. "What do you think Davey?" Jock asked. "A night with Sophia Loren, or Ursula?" "That's an awkward question," Davey said, squirming a little as he glanced at the bikini clad body nearly touching his shoulder. "I'm afraid I can't answer it without being inappropriate." "Why Davey! That's the nicest thing anybody's not said to me," Ursula laughed. "You staying Sweetie? I'm going back up top if you are." "Yeah, a little while," Davey said. "All right, come get me when you leave." She walked out with the boy's eyes riveted to her ass. "You're a lucky man," Davey said when she'd gone. Jock was lucky, yes, in so many ways. Young, good looking, financially independent, a beautiful future wife he was crazy about. All good things. His body was broken, but that was temporary. The crash had given him something else though. It had given him a glimpse of the future, something bigger than his new and deeper bond with Ursula and the life they would share together. It was a glimpse of the great beyond, a glimpse of a future we may all share in. Or maybe it was just a dream... . . . . Do you like us Jock? Would you like us to take you home? We all want to fuck you Jock. Do you want to fuck us all, before we take you with us?. . . .