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Flow

By: hman103



As Amy flew into the air, the trampoline sending her to dizzying heights, she became painfully aware of just how sharp and pointy the cold seemed to have made her breasts. She winced as she came down on knee and the rough wool of her shirt rubbed against her already sensitive aureolas.

This young woman, barely an adult, had alway been self-conscious about her looks, her chest in particular. Before the age of sixteen she had been as flat as any boy; flatter, if anyone asked her.

It seemed to have happened overnight; as though she had gone to bed without a bosom and been magically transformed overnight. She recalled stepping out of the shower and having to run the mirror free of steam just so that she could stare at herself.

Soon thereafter her mother, strict and demanding, had forbidden her to play with any of the boys as she had done before. Amy had wondered about it but didn't seem to care as long as she had someone to play with.

The young woman turned to get off the still shaking material when she saw a flash of flesh through the bushes to her left. She might have left it at that if she hadn't heard the giggling; something about it caused her stomach to grow butterflies and so she got down on all knees and carefully crawled over towards the voices' source.

Amy slid her hands between the bushes and carefully inserted her head into the gap so as not to get any leaves or twigs in her carefully brushed blonde hair; her mother would have a fit if she got anything into it. What she saw brought a gasp to her lips that she barely managed to stifle.

In the next yard over were a young couple, a few years younger than her, freshmen in college perhaps, enjoying the comforts of each other's body in a rather explicit fashion. Her eyes grew wide and she put one hand over her heart, amazed at how quickly it was beating.

Biting down on her lower lip, she dared to go back for another look and watched in awe as the woman bounced up and down man's lap. Her eyes went almost immediately to the other woman's bouncing bosom and her eyes narrowed in jealousy. Suddenly she was filled with hate; her mother had always told her how small her breasts were, was always pointing out how pitiful they were, though, in truth, they were at least as large as her mother's.

The skin around her breasts seemed to tighten as she breathed and, without thinking, she slid one hand under her shirt to caress her poor breasts. The cool sensation of her hands on her warm breasts caused her nipples to stiffen even further and she quickly began rubbing for the simple pleasure of it.

Soon her other hand slid beneath her shirt to begin caressing her other breast. Amy fell back onto the trampoline and just sat there for what seemed an eternity before opening her eyes.

Lifting her head she looked down at her shorts, she realized that she had grown quite wet while she had been massaging herself. Her tongue flicked out to moisten her now dry lips. Tentatively she touched a finger to the thin fabric covering her crotch, amazed when it came back wet. Her mother's many warnings and threats fell quiet as she slowly touched the tip to her tongue.

It was a strange, alien taste but not an unwelcome one, she quickly realized as she slid her long, delicate fingers beneath her shorts and over her panties. Withdrawing them she saw that there was even more liquid to be had.

Again she slid her fingers into her mouth, taking her time as she was determined to savor it this time around. Her tongue wrapped around her forefinger and drew her juices into her mouth. The corner of her mouth turned up in a smile and she was ready to delve deeper into her depths when she heard a loud gasp.

Quickly Amy climbed to her knees and felt her jaw drop as she watched the young man slide his tongue between the woman's legs, his tongue deftly licking at her sex. She looked down at her own shorts and wondered if anyone would ever do that for her.

When the couple disappeared back into their home, laughing and grabbing at each other, Amy turned around and realized that she was out where anyone could see her from inside the house. The young blonde quickly dismounted the trampoline and pulled one of the lawn chairs out onto the side of the house under the old oak tree.

Dropping into the cheap plastic, she braced herself against the chair's back with her feet and spread her legs wide open. She slid her hand down beneath her panties and in between her pussy lips, pausing as her lips closed around her digit.

She slid it in and out a few times, tightening her jaw as she did her best not to groan with each passing. The sensation was like nothing she had ever felt before; mother had always said that good girls have nothing to do down there.

Her hand took on a mind of its own and willed her delicate fingers to dance over her pussy quickly, roughly, softly, changing tempo seemingly at random. Amy didn't care, she was just along for the ride and was enjoying every second of it.

Margaret finished toweling her hands dry and looked out upon the yard, her brow wrinkled in consternation as she failed to see her daughter. She slammed the door shut and walked over to the huge contraption that she had never liked and glared across the yard. Nothing seemed out of order at first but she soon heard a low sound coming from the side of the house.

As she turned around the corner, finally deciding to open her mouth and call for her daughter, Margaret stopped dead in her tracks.

Amy opened her eyes and did what she couldn't do before, she stopped.

Margaret rushed over towards her daughter's side and grabbed her by the wrist with tears in her eyes. Amy knew that her mother was devastated, but she couldn't understand why when it had felt so good. She wondered why her mother had warned her against such things even as the older woman dragged her to her feet.

But she wouldn't budge. Amy opened her mouth to demand an explanation from her mother when the woman slapped her soundly across the cheek. She stared dumbly at her mother as her tongue slid across the growing side of her mouth, savoring the growing taste of copper. Without thinking, she did what she thought she would never do, she swung back.

Margaret fell to the ground, her knees grinding the grass down into the dirt and leaned forward, shaking as she held her hands against her face. The shock plain in her eyes, Margaret finally managed to look up and nearly winced at the smoldering anger she witnessed in her daughter's eyes.

Her mother then glanced down at the wet spot before her, mere inches away from her face. Not thinking, not caring, Amy decided that the woman who had kept such pleasure from her for the past eleven years should be the first to give it to her.

Pulling her shorts down to her knees, Amy grabbed her mother by the hair, a move the older woman had done to her more than once, grabbed her by the throat and shoved the other woman's face into her crotch.

Holding onto the woman that had given birth to her, Amy began to use her to satisfy her urges. Margaret tried to breath, tried to pull, tried to free herself, but Amy wouldn't have it. She was stronger than her mother and determined to fulfill her passions.

She ground her body into her mother's face without mercy, a wicked little smile growing on her face; she would be satisfied.

Margaret wanted to cry out as she struggled but her mouth was filled with the pungent, musky smell of her daughter's sex. She clawed and slapped and scratched and beat, each blow being returned twice as hard, until finally her strength gave out and she gave up. She let her daughter rub her hairy slit all over her face and even licked a little in the hopes that it would appease her tormentor.

Amy was in a mood as never before, however, and she would not be appeased. She commanded her mother this way and that, dealing out punishment, releasing wave after wave of anger, sorrow and guilt with each gyration of her hips until she finally had her mother lapping at her lips like a little puppy dog.

Margaret looked up at her daughter with fear in her eyes as she sucked and licked. She was ready to beg for mercy when her daughter exploded; the juices rushing out of her like little rapids across Margaret's face.

At first she glared as her mother didn't suck up her juices but she smiled once the flow had ceased and slid down so that her face was level with her mothers and began to lick the fluids that stuck to her.

She finished licking up her own juices from her mothers face when she decided that she wanted more. Tired herself, she slunk down to her mothers sacred area and began to eat it and tear it and to altogether desecrate it. Her mother had never been serviced that way by anyone nor had she ever done that to another person, and now here she was, having done it by her own daughter, her own flesh and blood.

Her waist bucked of its own accord and she soon found her hands on the back of her daughters head, forcing it in, grinding her daughters head into her place. When she began to flow she knew that it would not be the last.

Flow



A note to the readers.

This is my first submission, and the first time I have attempted to write a piece of erotica. The build up takes a while, but in my opinion is important. I find it more erotic knowing there is a background and a story leading up to the sexual side of things, but that's just who I am. Comments and criticisms, if given, will be greatly appreciated, if only so I can improve on my writing or think of new ideas to write about.

The story is a collection of events in both the participants' lives leading up to their eventual coupling (and the male protagonist's first time), and a story about who they are as people as well as erotica. At least this is my hope, since I don't have experience in these matters and have nothing but my vivid imagination to rely on. Either way, I had fun writing it.

Thank you for reading. Hope you enjoy.

.....

"Oh, did I tell you? Amelia's moving," His grandmother said in an off-hand way. He knew her too well, however, and heard that particular tone buried underneath the nonchalance that was designed to provoke him into at least responding in some way.   

It worked, not that it seemed there was much other choice. The news was a surprise. Then again, he had been away for a while for work. "She is? When?"

"Oh. I'm not sure. She mentioned it the other day. I'm surprised she didn't tell you. They're getting a divorce."

His eyes widened, but he kept his expression from his grandmother's eyes. Without even thinking about it, he glanced toward the front door. Moving? Suddenly the world seemed a little darker and heavier.

"Why don't you go over there and talk to her about it?" His grandmother urged him.

"..."

"You silly boy. It's clear she means a lot to you. If I was in your position, I'd be over there right now."

"... I wonder why she didn't tell me."

"She's been busy. I'm sure she would have told you soon enough. Are you going there, or not?"

He thought about it for a moment or so, then shook his head. "Nah. If she's busy, then... Well. I'll give her a call later or something."

His grandmother clicked her tongue and shook her head. "I don't know... You stupid kids these days..."

.....

He met Amelia for the first time when he was about ten years old. Amelia and her husband moved across the road, and his grandmother, an old woman even then, with the mind of someone who had come from close knit communities, insisted they both go over and introduce themselves.

So, feeling silly about the whole thing, he traipsed across the street after his grandmother and waited while she knocked on the freshly repainted door. When Amelia Lewis opened the door, he found himself staring, though at the time he had no idea why.

Amelia Lewis was gorgeous. Dark hair that fell just past her shoulders in thick waves, large green eyes and somewhat dark lips. It was her smile that got to him most of all though, warm as it was.

"Alright, love?" His grandmother said to her. "We've just come from across the road to introduce ourselves. I'm Anya." Then she looked at him and nudged him forward. "Introduce yourself, go on!"

He remembered Amelia looked straight at him and smiled. She was in her mid twenties or so, and suddenly it was beginning to make sense how one of his older cousins always seemed so focused on women. He didn't even notice her body at the time. Just her face.

"You're being rude," His grandmother said to him.

"Sorry. I'm Grain."

"Grain?" Amelia said in a low voice.

"Honestly. His name's Ivan. But everyone calls him Grain. I have no idea why, to this day," His grandmother told her.

"Oh, I see. Nice to meet you two. Nice to meet you, Grain," Amelia said holding out a hand.

Grain took it reluctantly, shook once, and let go.

"Why don't you both come in?" She asked. "I can make you a cup of tea if you like. As long as you don't mind the mess."

"Oh. Are you sure? We don't want to be any bother," His grandmother told her.

"It's fine! Honestly. It'd be great to spend a bit of time with someone for a bit. Terry's been at work a lot lately, and I'm just getting tired of having to deal with all this stuff all the time. It'd be lovely to sit and chat for a bit."

Grain didn't remember much about that visit, except, as he had expected, his grandmother was talking to Amelia and he was left to his own devices. At some point Amelia's mother arrived and sat with them, and it was at this point he left the room to wander about the house a bit. He didn't get very far. In the other room, next to the one the adults sat in, he found several full bookshelves put against the wall. He sat down and tilting his head, began to read the titles one by one. His enduring memory of that time was the sound of the door opening and Amelia walking in, one eyebrow raised until her eyes settled on him.

"Hey, there you are. I was wondering where you'd gone to. Everything okay?"

He nodded.

"You don't say much, do you?"

He smiled at that. "Grandma talks a lot."

Amelia giggled. "Yeah. It's lovely though. I love listening. She's really nice."

"She's alright, I suppose."

She smiled and sat down beside him. "I guess your parents are at work or something?"

His smile disappeared and he looked away toward the books.

"Grain?"

"My parents are dead."

There was a heavy silence as Amelia took a deep breath, unsure of how to proceed. Finally, berating herself for doing so, she settled for the generic, "I'm really sorry to hear that."

He shrugged.

"That must be really hard for you."

"You have a lot of books."

Grateful for the change in topic, she nodded in agreement. "I love reading. All of these are mine. Terry isn't a huge reader really."

"I like reading."

"Yeah? What kind of books do you like?"

"Anything really," Grain said quietly. Then he moved toward one of the shelves and pointed to a few of the books. "I've read those ones." Pointing to another shelf, "And those."

Amelia stared at the shelves he had pointed towards. They were mostly fantasy novels written for teenagers. "Really?"

And there was that familiar dubious tone that Grain had become accustomed to. "I preferred Eddings though. And I like Douglas Adams a lot, even though I don't think I get some of it. I'll read it again when I'm older."

They discussed books for another half hour after that, with Amelia's disbelief disappearing rapidly and her becoming impressed with his quiet intelligence. The conversation ended when Anya decided it was time for them to leave, but not before Amelia quickly told him he was welcome to borrow any books at any time.

.....

Grain stared out of his bedroom window toward Amelia's front door. He had no desire to go over there. At first he didn't want to believe his grandmother, but it was looking as though there was truth in it. It had been two days since his grandmother had told him and he had not seen Terry's car anywhere near the house. His grandmother had said he was staying with a friend while Amelia prepared all her things for moving.

It wasn't so much a surprise that the divorce was happening, but it still had that sharpness to it when he thought of it. Even when things were expected, it didn't necessarily lessen their impact. The thought of Amelia not being across the road was hard for him to get to grips with. So instead, as he did with a lot of things, he simply didn't think about it. It wasn't real. It wouldn't be real until she was actually gone.

And once she was gone, he would have no idea what to do.

.....

It wasn't until he was thirteen when she asked him exactly how he got the name Grain.

"I don't really remember."

"You don't?" She pushed a plate across the counter towards him. On it was a tuna sandwich, one he had been looking forward to all day. Her sandwiches were a slice of heaven.

"Nope." He took a bite of the sandwich and gulped it down quickly.

"Oi, careful. Chew!" She said in her feigned stern voice. She was terrible at actually being stern. "So how come you don't remember?"

"I was in primary school. I think someone said the word grain and I said something back. And for some stupid reason a lot of the kids had trouble saying Ivan. So Grain became the alternative."

"Really?"

"Something like that. It was years ago, Mrs. Lewis."

She scowled. "I wish you wouldn't call me that."

He shrugged. "It's respectful. Grandma says it is anyway. And she's psychic or something. She can always tell when I'm not doing something I should be."

"She's not here right now, Mr. Black," Amelia said, briefly sticking her tongue out at him.

He shook his head. "This is Grandma we're talking about. I ain't risking anything."

"Ain't? Am not. Or I'm not. That's the correct way."

He simply glanced at her and took another bite.

"When is she getting back?" She asked suddenly.

"Tomorrow night."

"You'll be glad to see her then."

"Yeah. I've missed her a lot. Hard to believe it's only been a week."

"Well she's the only other person in the house, so I guess that's to be expected. Have you got anything to eat for later?"

"I'm not sure. I might have run out of food by now. I might just order in."

"Why don't you eat here? I'll get us some pizza. It's Friday night."

"What about Mr. Lewis?"

He was too young to understand that subtle change that came over her face. She sighed and said, "He's working all night."

"Again?"

"Yep. So it's just you and me."

"Poor you," Grain said, smiling. "Stuck with a thirteen year old boy."

She stuck her tongue out at him.

"Seriously though. Thanks for all the food and stuff. And for letting me come here to hang out. It's always good." Grain's voice always became quieter when he was saying something serious. Amelia had to struggle to hear sometimes.

This time she was simply surprised at the sudden gratitude, only just realising she enjoyed his company just as much as he did, if not more. "Don't be silly, Grain. It's a pleasure."

He simply nodded. He never really made eye contact when his voice was like that. She often felt like pointing this out to him but was never quite sure how he would react. It seemed better to just leave it.

.....

Pretending things were happening never lasted long. Giving the idea of going over to see her some serious thought left him even more afraid of going there. He couldn't quite tell what the source of the fear was yet. He was standing in front of the bathroom mirror, staring at the stubble that needed shaving. Grain had short dark hair, not quite black but too dark to be really considered brown. Amelia had often said she could see several tones in it. His eyes were brown, his skin pale and his body lean. He was a couple of inches shy of average height for a male, something which he had never given much thought once he realised he was more or less the same height as Amelia. He flexed his arm, taking note of the fact that he was at least filling out a little bit.

Sighing, he decided to leave the shaving for now and put on his shoes to walk over to see Amelia. While he put on his shoes, he tried to puzzle out the one emotion that seemed to be dominant above all others. That strange, singular fear which left him almost feeling paralysed at times, ever since his grandmother had told him about Amelia's leaving. It wasn't until he opened the door and was about to cross the road when he realised the reason for it was simple. Change. Things were going to change. More than that, he had no idea where she was going. No idea whether he'd see her again. Why would she bother keeping in touch with him? Even if they were close in some respects.

There had been moments of course. Moments where he was forced to stop and think about what was going on in front of him. Moments that it seemed only he and Amelia shared; moments wrapped up in a blanket of time that buffered them against the rest of the world. Grain really had no idea when it was he had developed this crush he had, had no idea when it had turned into something else and became a simple fact in his mind, that his emotions largely became focused on her at some point. He had feelings for her, definitely, but he never tried to probe how deep they were. He was only twenty-two and as far as he was concerned, he wasn't sure he understood the concept of love, simply because he couldn't have the conviction to just fall into his feelings and let go.

What did it matter, when she was leaving now anyway? He was happy for her. He couldn't deny that. He figured out a few years ago that she was unhappy. Now she had finally taken a step forward. And for all he knew, she was leaving him behind too.

.....

"Did I hear right? Your grandmother said you're going to move for a year or so," Amelia said after several moments of silence. She'd been waiting for the right moment to ask, unsure of whether she really wanted to hear him say it. She hated to admit it but she had come to rely on the idea of him being across the street more than she thought she should.

"Only for the year," Grain said, watching her carefully. Things had changed. She wasn't the same person he had met for the first time six years before. She seemed sadder now.

"Where to?"

"I'm going to live with my cousins, while I do the first year of my A-Levels in the same college as them. Grandma says I should try living in the country for a bit. I think she just wants the house to herself for a bit."

"A whole year..."

"I'll be around during the breaks, I think."

"You should be where ever you can do your work. It's going to be an important year for you."

Grain raised an eyebrow. "You have met my cousins, right? Working anywhere near them is an impossibility. Still, I'll have a room to myself."

Amelia laughed lightly. "I remember them. Very laddish."

"An understatement. I'm expecting at least one of them to end up being treated for sex addiction."

"Oh, they didn't seem that bad!"

"That's because you don't hear what they say when it's just the boys."

"Oh? Give me an example?" Amelia asked in a playful voice.

Grain shook his head vehemently. "Nope."

"Spoilsport."

He looked at her again. She was looking off into space toward the dining room table. There was cutlery on there along with a couple of plates. She walked over to it and picked a single plate up and was about to go to one of the cupboards to put it away, before she stopped and looked at him.

He tilted his head slightly as a question.

"Have you eaten yet, Grain?"

"No. But, I'll be going out with a couple of friends later. They want to say goodbye now."

"Oh? But... there's the whole summer yet."

"They'll be away. And I don't really feel like doing much with a lot of others. I won't see them for the rest of the summer once they're gone."

"Ah," Amelia looked away again. The disappointment in her voice was noticeable.

He was nearly sixteen now and with his hormones in full swing, he could finally appreciate how beautiful Amelia Lewis really was. Her dark, wavy hair was now halfway down her back. He noticed her body more than he was prepared to admit to himself. She wasn't model thin in the least, but instead a collection of gorgeous curves. She was about his height with wide hips and round buttocks, and breasts that were more than a handful, along with a waist that while it was a proportionally normal width, somehow accentuated the curves below and above it. She had the slight appearance of plumpness to her, nothing overly noticeable, but more the kind of thickness that only came to be noticed when someone looked at her long enough.

While her body was appealing to say the least, he was worried because her eyes seemed dimmer now, and her smile didn't quite widen as it used to in the memories of his younger days. It hurt him to see she was not happy. He never said anything to her about it, but instead watched as she went to work part time, came home to find the house empty, spent a lot of her evenings alone and occasionally he had even been there when she had had whispered arguments with her husband over the phone. But she never mentioned any of her problems, or her issues in her marriage. Of course she wouldn't. He was only young and he was sure she had plenty of friends in her circle to speak to. It didn't stop him occasionally from hoping she would open up to him, even if a little.

"Grain?"

"Hmm?" Her voice broke him out of his thoughts.

"You'll be sixteen pretty soon, won't you?"

"Yeah. Another couple of weeks."

"Do you want anything specific for it?"

"Uh, nope. That's fine. You don't have to do that."

"You sure?"

"Mrs. Lewis, honestly."

"I wish you wouldn't call me that. Makes me feel old. I'm not even thirty yet."

"You're not old," He said automatically.

She smiled. "You're supposed to say that."

He shrugged in that small way he did. In his pocket his hand was busy pressing buttons with an agonisingly careful manner. With the phone out of sight, he was having to rely on his memory of where each button led to which menu. After a few more seconds, he had success. His phone began to ring.

"Oh. Okay if I take this? I think it's my friend."

She frowned at him. "Of course it is. Go ahead. I'm just going to put away some stuff in the kitchen." She walked out, leaving him alone.

As soon as she left, he cancelled the ring tone, and rang his friend. After a few moments, she picked up. "Joanne? Listen, about tonight, I'm really sorry, but I can't make it... No, everything's fine. It's just that something came up... I know you're leaving tomorrow.... I promise I'll make it up to you. I'll be around during the winter break.... Yeah, I promise I'll see you then. Will you let Arun know for me?... Thanks.... Yeah.... Take care. Bye."

He waited for a while, listening to the sounds of Amelia moving things about in the kitchen. Finally she came back, holding a carton of juice and offered it to him. He took it gladly.

"Mrs. Lewis, looks like I've had a change of plan."

"Oh?"

"Turns out my friends can't make it. So, I'm at a loose end."

She suppressed a smile. "Oh. That must be really disappointing for you."

"It happens. I can always see them later in the year."

"Well, would you like to have to dinner here later?"

He nodded with a smile. "I'll just go and tell Grandma. I'll be back in a few."

And while he walked over to his grandmother's house, he wondered if it was possible that she enjoyed his company that much. Or perhaps she just didn't want to be alone. It was beginning to seem obvious to him that though Amelia Lewis was an adult age-wise, she was more a person with her own insecurities and elaborate ways of coping with them. Maybe, he thought to himself, adults weren't so confident and as sure as they made themselves out to be, that maybe they were still like teenagers, but with bigger problems and more experience with dealing with those problems.

Maybe he could find a way of getting through to her and telling her that he could see she was unhappy, that she needed a way of dealing with it or finding some solution to it all.

.....

He remembered when he was seventeen, and living with his cousins after having decided to stay another year at the same college, and his grandmother called him to pass on the message that Amelia had decided to throw a small gathering for her thirtieth birthday. He and his grandmother were both invited to the small affair and he found himself gladly sitting on the train going home for the weekend.

The gathering itself was smaller than could be considered a party, at least in his view, but he enjoyed most of it. Amelia's friends were all reasonably amiable though he did not attempt to socialise as much as he could have, even after Amelia introduced him as a friend to her group. Terrence Lewis was also there. It was a rare sighting for Grain. He wasn't sure how he felt about him. Terrence was not a bad person as far as he could tell, and this was while he was attempting to be unbiased, but the person he was made Grain wonder at times how he and Amelia could have ended up together. They seemed unsuited. He had minimal interaction with him until he decided he had had enough of the gathering altogether, and as it always seemed to happen whenever he was at their house, he found himself in front of the bookshelves looking at the books.




Flow



It was perhaps an hour later when he came back out to find his grandmother had gone, and so had most of the guests. Amelia looked at him in surprise, but her eyes seemed heavy and she smiled immediately.

"Grain! Hey. I thought you'd gone home."

He shook his head. "Sorry. I was just looking at some of the books."

"Big reader, huh?" One of the male guests asked. Grain put him at mid twenties at best.

"Bigger than me, I'm sure," Terence said. "He's been borrowing books for the last seven years, haven't you, Grain?"

"More or less," Grain answered. He looked at Amelia. "I'm going to get going. I dropped some books off. They're on the floor next to the shelves. I wasn't sure where they went."

"Oh, don't worry about that," Amelia said, raising her glass of wine. It then occurred to Grain, that Amelia was slightly intoxicated. "Are you sure you have to go?"

He nodded. "See you all some other time. Thanks for having me over."

There was a chorus of goodbyes as he left. Sometime later that night he was in his room, sitting on his large windowsill and reading when he saw the door to Amelia's house open and the guests coming out to leave. His window was open and he could just about hear that most of them were drunk and saying their goodbyes with promises to meet again soon. Once they left, Amelia and Terry looked at each other and kissed. Grain stared. There was a girl at the college at the moment who seemed very interested in him. Yet, he found himself indifferent to her, possibly because the girl was boring. Watching Amelia kiss sparked a curious string of thoughts where he wondered if he would ever be able to do that with anyone. The few girls he did not mind spending time with, were strictly close friends. That wasn't to say he hadn't thought about being more to them. He was a male after all and with that came the overwhelming rush of lust for female company, but something always stopped him even voicing those kinds of desires. They seemed empty somehow.

The Lewises broke off their kiss and went inside, holding hands. Perhaps to carry on in the bedroom. Perhaps things were getting better in their marriage. Or maybe it was just because Terry happened to be there for once. Grain glanced at his clock. It was one in the morning and he still did not feel tired. He decided to carry on reading.

Half an hour later and he saw Amelia open the door and stride out in anger, slamming her front door behind her. He half expected to see Terry opening the door behind her, but nothing happened. Amelia stood on the pavement for a moment or so, and looked up to see Grain watching. There was a slow moment where she at least acknowledged him by raising her hand briefly, but then she turned and walked down the road toward the local park. He watched her go. Bearing in mind she may have been drunk and it was late, he put his book down and with worry, quickly put a pair of shoes on and quietly walked down and left the house.

Terry still had not come out, and probably wasn't going to. The lights were off. Grain struggled for a moment, wondering if he should knock on her door to tell Terry it was not a good idea for Amelia to be out by herself. It was altogether possible Terry didn't know. Or perhaps he did and he didn't care, which seemed worse. It was likely that he was the cause of her walking out. Grain sighed and decided to head for the park.

The park itself was mostly grass, except for one path that led up a hill to a beautiful view and a couple of benches. He went straight up it and found Amelia sitting by herself, staring into space. He approached her but didn't sit down.

She looked at him. "Hi."

"So... is this one of those things where you're depressed about your age despite the fact that actually you're in a pretty good time of your life?" It was meant to be some sort of stupid opening line.

She simply smiled. "Am I?"

"You're not depressed about your birthday, are you?"

"Turning thirty? Nah..."

"Ah. So it's something else."

"Do I seem depressed?"

"Yes."

"Ah. Perhaps... Hmm."

"What?"

"Nothing." She looked down at the grass in front of her. She seemed to be swaying slightly.

Working up the courage for a few seconds beforehand, he asked her, "Do you want to talk about it?"

Perhaps because she wasn't quite sober, he was surprised to hear her say, "I'm just really... frustrated with things."

"Things at home? With Terry?"

She glanced at him, and nodded. "Just... I don't know. It doesn't matter."

"It matters."

"... He and I have been together a long time."

"Yeah? You said you met in school."

"Hmm. We got together in school. Fifteen years now."

Watching her carefully, not quite understanding why he did so, Grain asked, "And now you want to split up with him?"

There were several beats of silence while Grain suddenly became increasingly paranoid that he had overstepped his bounds. Amelia simply sat and thought about his question, before looking up at him and saying, "I don't think this is a good idea. To talk about this. Not between us." She seemed very irritated all of a sudden.

Grain felt a sudden drop in his chest. The thought of having made her feel worse tore at him a little. "Sorry. Will you at least talk about it to someone? Like, maybe your friends? I think you need to."

"That's rich coming from someone who barely talks about his feelings, or his parents or... you know.. whatever."

Grain felt like she had just slapped him sharply across the face. The sting in his chest was even worse. He didn't care that she looked up at him, her face obviously full of regret at her words. He had never expected her to be even capable of saying anything like that. It didn't hurt so much that she pointed out his reluctance to open up at times, but rather the fact she had brought his parents into it. It was a sore subject and both of them knew it. Several times in the last few years, if the subject of parents came up, he always skirted over it, a clear sign that he wanted to discuss anything except them.

Without even another word, he turned around and began walking down the hill. Amelia sighed quickly, closed her eyes and said to herself, "You bitch." Then she got up and went after him as fast as she could.

"Grain." He didn't stop. "Grain! Please!" She pleaded. He slowed a little momentarily but kept going. "Ivan! Please stop!"

This time he did. She caught up to him and stood in front of him, wanting to be sure he wouldn't just walk off again. He avoided making eye contact. She breathed deeply, wondering what it was she could say to resolve this quickly.

"Grain, I'm so--"

"I know I don't say a lot about stuff like that," Grain said suddenly. "I know I'm younger. I know I'm not as experienced or as mature. I know I'm closed off. But I'm not so young that I don't understand that these days you're hurting all the time. Or that you've been with him so long, you're terrified of the idea of leaving him and going it alone. That you can't see that being possible." He spoke in a rushed tone, surprising himself with his candour and his sudden insights. "You're not alone. You have people around you that care about you and would do what they could to help. You have people who will listen. If you let them. If you let yourself express it."

They both stood silent. She tried to make eye contact but he went on avoiding it. In a low voice full of feeling, she said, "Sometimes I forget you're still only seventeen. Everything you said about me being scared is more or less spot on. That's more than anyone else has noticed."

He didn't respond. He wasn't sure how to.

"Grain, I'm so very sorry for saying what I did."

"It's okay. I get it. You're a little drunk, you're frustrated and angry and hurting."

"That's no excuse."

"Whatever. It doesn't matter. You're forgiven."

"... Thank you."

There was another long silence. Grain felt torn between leaving and staying. Still stinging from her words he felt the need to go but being here in the night with her in the state she was, meant he wanted to be sure she was safe. He looked up at the night sky and noted the moon was out, bright and pale.

"What made you ask that?"

"Hmm?" He looked at her.

"What made you ask if I wanted to leave him?"

He thought about it for a moment. "Because you said you'd been with him a long time. It seemed... I don't know. It made me wonder if that's why you thought that. Because you wanted to split up."

"Oh."

"Maybe we should go back."

"Do you really want to?"

"Don't you?"

"I don't know. I like it out here."

Grain looked around him. They were standing halfway up the hill. He could barely see anything in the distance except for light from the lampposts of the nearby street and the dark, long grass which undulated in the strong breeze. Amelia moved off the path and sat down on the grass. She looked at him. He sat down where he was, on the path, a few feet from her. He kept his eyes on the moon the whole time while she looked down again at the grass, trying to find the right words to use.

It was easily several minutes later when she spoke again in a low voice. "I can't really speak to my friends about it. They're all people we both know, more or less. People from our school days. The ones who matter anyway. And my parents wouldn't understand, I don't think."

"You're sure of that?" He asked when she was quiet for a few seconds.

"Yes."

"Must be lonely."

"It is." She pulled out a blade of grass and tore it into a few pieces. "You are really mature, you know? Never think that counts against you."

"It's hard not to when it sets you apart from others around you."

"You think immature people grow out of it after a certain age?" There was a playful tone in her question.

He looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

"It doesn't work like that. Not really," She responded. "I was really surprised."

"By?"

"Everything you said. I've always known you were observant but I always thought maybe I hid it really well. No one else has ever said anything like you have."

"You do hide it well. I just... I don't know. I could see it. You're not happy," Grain mumbled.

"... Sometimes I wonder if they have noticed but they're just waiting for me to mention it."

"Maybe. But if they were really your friends, they wouldn't wait."

"No. I suppose not." She tore another blade of grass from the ground. "I feel really lost at times."

Grain had no idea what to say to that. Instead he asked, "Do you think it would be better if you split up with him?"

"I don't know."

"It seems obvious to me."

"Really?"

That question sounded like more of a challenge and made him think about what he wanted to say. "Well... you're not happy with him."

She looked up at him, making him glance up and look down again at the ground. "Grain... please look at me."

"What?"

"Please look at me. I really would like it if you did. You avoid it so much."

He bit the inside of his lower lip briefly, raised his head and made eye contact. She was staring at him intently and it made him uncomfortable at first. Then slowly he grew used to it, taking in the vision of her in the moonlight. Her hair reflected the light, almost giving the impression of a soft glow, and her skin looked creamy and appealing.

"Tell me something, Grain."

It was mesmerising the way her lips shaped the words.

"Do you really think it's that simple?" She asked.

He was about to answer that yes it was, it really was, but something stopped him. Looking at her, his thoughts raced. His parents had died young. He was only nine when they did. There was no question in his mind that they loved each other immensely, even while they argued or his mother was distant and having one of her bouts of depression. Right up until the day she had attempted to kill herself, leaving his father distraught and panicking, putting her in the car to drive her to the hospital. Only for them both to get killed along the way.

There had been that connection there between them that he would never quite remember the way he wanted to, even if the concept of it was vivid. It was simply intangible, and yet it'd kept them drawn to each other.

To his surprise, he realised Amelia was nervous. It was in her eyes and the way she sat. In some ways perhaps, she was asking a lot more than just a question about her marriage. She was asking him to see something more. Maybe even help her make a decision, or give her some sort of permission. The Amelia who sat in front of him now was just completely vulnerable. He knew his answer to her question suddenly.

党No. It isn't. You've both experienced more than half your lives together. You're a part of each other. It's not simple at all," He said carefully. "And I guess something you have to decide for yourself," He added almost as an afterthought.

There was a brief touch of a smile on her lips and then she nodded lightly. He looked away at this point, beginning to feel very, very out of his depth. A moment later and she was standing in front of him, offering her hand to help him up. He took it and stood up, giving his jeans a quick wipe with his hands to shake off any imaginary stones or dirt or grass. He was about to walk when he realised she still stood where she was, and that she had her eyes on him.

"Thanks," Amelia said.

"... For?"

She shrugged. "For being my friend."

He nodded.

"Can I hug you?"

His eyes widened in surprise.

She misinterpreted it. "The thought of me hugging you scares you that much?"

He shook his head. "No. Just surprised. It just occurred to me that. Well that we never have actually..."

"You always seem so aversive to touching. I understand if you don't want to." She took a step closer. Now she was less than two feet away from him.

Maybe she was more drunk than he realised. All of a sudden, a hug seemed to be more than just a simple act of putting their arms around each other. Part of him marvelled at the fact that the idea of hugging her seemed so appealing and woke up the urge in him to move closer and simply wrap his arms around her and stay like that for as long as he could. It was nearly overwhelming. That was why he didn't do it.

"I'd rather not," He said quietly, hoping he wouldn't offend her.

If he did, she showed no sign of it. "That's fine. Come on. Let's go home."

He walked her home that night, watched her enter her house and did not go into his own for several moments to be sure she was going to stay inside. Once inside, he did not sleep all night, but instead stared at his ceiling thinking about and imagining scenarios in which Amelia would hug or touch him in ways which were not quite, but had the potential to be become something sexual. He could not allow himself to move into that realm of imagining. Not yet.

.....

He knocked on her door lightly and waited. She opened the door quickly and smiled when she saw him. Behind her, he could see several cardboard boxes laying about on the floor.

"Grain!" She came forward and took his hand to squeeze it. Her version of a hug for him.

"Hey. Uh... looks like you're busy. I can come back later."

"No! No. Come on. Come in." He followed her in as she kept talking. "I came to see you a few days ago but your grandmother said you were out. And these last few days... I'm sorry. I've just been so busy."

"It's fine. She told me you were moving."

"Yeah." She turned around to look at him once they were in the living room. "I wanted to tell you myself. Things are moving fast though."

"And a divorce?"

She nodded and took a deep breath. Grain could see the impact of the reality of that idea had not worn off yet. "Actually. We kind of started proceedings a few months ago. This whole time I've been looking for a place. Last few weeks, Terry's been living with a friend while I get everything sorted. It should be finalised very soon."

She looked the happiest he had seen her in years. It made his heart soar to see it. "How do you feel about that?" He asked.

She smiled. "Good. Grain, I'm finally... finally doing something. All it did was take me something stupid like nine years." She laughed suddenly.

He smiled in return and shrugged. "Better than not doing something for the rest of your life. Everything has its time, right?"

"Yeah... Here's hoping it'll work out."

"It will."

She grinned at him. She was wearing a simple t shirt and a pair of jeans that were loose on her legs, though not around her hips. He tried not to look, but could not help but glance at her hip area a couple of times before decided he needed to focus his attention on something else. He settled on looking at one of the boxes next to the wall. It was full of books.

"I was careful about whether I had any of your books here. There was only one," Amelia told him. She was watching him carefully. He seemed anxious about something but as usual, she found it hard to instigate any conversation about it.

"Catch-22?" Grain asked.

"Yes."

"Did you like it?"

"Very much."

"There's a sequel to it. Set thirty years or so later."

"Do you have it?"

"Yes. But it's not as good, in my opinion. Or maybe I just don't understand it in the way I'm meant to."

"Can I borrow it?"

He looked at her. "Yeah... Of course. Just..." He trailed off.

She waited for a few seconds before coming out with it. "Grain, what's wrong? You seem a little down."

"No. I'm okay. I'm really happy for you."

"Thanks. But, seriously. What is it? Please tell me."

"I'm just a little sad at the fact you're moving. Well, actually really sad. I guess it's the thought of not coming over a lot or whatever. And I don't even know where you're moving to yet." He really wanted to ask whether it meant their friendship would diminish.

It seemed as though she read between the lines however. "Grain, only a fifteen minute walk away. That's all."

"Really?"

"Really! God, have you been worried all this time?" She took a few steps closer to him. "You're my friend, Grain. We're not going to lose contact or anything. In fact, I fully expect you to visit as much as you want. Promise me you will."

"Yeah. Of course, I promise," Grain said with a relieved tone. "I guess I got paranoid. I don't know. I just thought maybe..."

Seeing the sheer relief all over his face, realising just how much he had been worrying about it, she took his hands. "You mean a lot to me. Okay? I'm not going to just disappear out of your life."

He nodded.

"I wish you'd come sooner and asked me. I can't believe you've been worrying about something so silly. Mind you, it's not as if I made the effort to come over to see you. I've missed you these past few weeks you've been away at work."

"You've been busy. It's understandable."

"Even so... Is the job over now?"

"Yeah. I'm back here for good, I think."

She smiled warmly. "I'm glad to hear that." She let go off his hands and looked around. "Actually, I was hoping you could help me move some of this stuff this weekend. I thought about hiring a van but since it's just practically down the road, I was hoping we could use your grandmother's car."

"That should be fine. She won't mind at all."

"That's great. It's going to be good. It's going to be good," She said, more to herself.

"It'll be fine."

She nodded. "Right. Will you help me with some of the packing?"

"Sure."

There were a few moments of silence and she cleared her throat. "Grain?"

"Hmm?"

"Listen, I'm sorry I didn't talk to you about this. Or tell you earlier, like a few weeks ago or whatever."

"Mrs. Lewis, I wouldn't have expected you to anyway, I don't think."

"You should," Amelia said seriously. She was staring into his eyes, thinking to herself about all the times he had simply been there to give her company. And all the recent times in which she found herself thinking of him often.




Flow



He said nothing, wondering what she meant exactly.

"Another thing, Grain. I'll be Amelia Taylor again in a few weeks. If you're not going to start calling me Amelia now, you better start when the divorce is final."

He raised an eyebrow in response, smiling at that feigned stern tone she put on for him sometimes.

His expression made her laugh. "I mean it!" She said loudly.

"Yeah, yeah... we'll see," He mumbled before turning around and starting to pack, listening to her laughter and feeling for the first time in several days that things were going to be just fine.

.....

"Okay. That's the fourth time your phone's gone off. Why don't you just read them?"

"I will. After the film," Grain told her, still staring at the TV. It was his second year of university and he was back home for a break, watching a film at Amelia's. She looked beautiful in just a pair of three quarter length jeans and a loose t-shirt. She was sitting on the two seater sofa, her back against the arm and her legs folded up next to him, so she was facing him more than the TV. In her right hand, she held a glass of wine.

"But I want to know what she's saying!"

"She?"

"It IS her, isn't it? I don't know of any boys who would text this often."

"I haven't looked at my phone, so I have no idea."

"So look!" She pleaded.

"Mrs. Lewis, I promise after the film, I will even let you read them out to me."

Amelia narrowed her eyes at him. "You lie."

He flashed a smile and pointed at the TV screen. "It's nearly finished."

She sighed. "Fine, fine. Pardon me for being excited about the fact you have this potential first girlfriend who's obviously into you. I just do not understand your behaviour."

"We're watching a film together," Grain told her. "I'd like to at least finish doing that before I do anything else."

"You'll let me read them, after?"

"You have my word."

But Amelia didn't wait that long. Fifteen minutes before the end of the film, she said, "Can I read them now?"

"It's nearly finished!"

"Grain, with all due respect, you're twenty years old and your priorities are messed up. There is potentially a girl who wants to jump you, right now trying to communicate with you and you're sitting here with an old woman, watching a film both of us have seen before. And you're ignoring her texts."

He laughed suddenly. "Jump me? No, no. It's not like that with me and Clarice."

"But you do like her."

Grain shrugged deeply. "I don't know!"

"She was one of the first things you mentioned tonight when we were having dinner! It's the first time I've heard you even talk about girls. I think it's obvious."

"I've spoken about girls before!"

"Mila Kunis doesn't count. Neither does Leelee Sobieski. Or that porn model you like so much."

"She doesn't do porn. I don't think. Just... sometimes... racy pictures."

"Whatever. The point is this; it's different this time!" He was about to answer that, but she interrupted with, "You know it is. Don't dare deny it."

"I don't see why it's so important."

She shrugged. "Because I think you need someone to bring you out of your shell. And... I mean it's a potential relationship. Doesn't that excite you?"

Grain, who by now had lost interest in the film, looked at her. He wasn't sure what he felt about the prospect of it. "I don't know."

She pursed her lips momentarily and said, "Really?"

He shrugged his usual small shrug.

"Why not?"

Because everyone else seemed to pale in comparison to Amelia. It was at this point in his life he knew he had feelings he could never act on, but with the simple act of denial, this was no problem. His feelings just did not exist. "How can I know why I don't know something?"

"We'll make this easy then. Tell me about her. Talk to me about her."

"And that will achieve what, exactly?"

"Just tell me about her, go on," She urged him, though a part of her was beginning to feel this conversation was perhaps taking a turn she would not quite be comfortable with.

"We met during one of our seminars. She's very pretty. We're good friends. We hang out a lot together. That's it."

"Really? No. That's not just it. I know you. You wouldn't notice someone unless they stood out from others in some way."

He knew exactly why he had become good friends with Clarice. It was one of those things he rarely spoke about. He could not deny, however, that he had been wanting to tell Amelia about it, ever since the night of her birthday, three years before. In some sense, he almost felt she deserved to know, because she was easily one of his closest friends, though he would never tell her that.

"Grain? What are you thinking?"

"She's an orphan. Like me."

The expression on Amelia's face became serious. "Oh." She took a gulp of wine and nodded. "Okay, I guess then... we'll not talk about this?"

Now the serious expression had uncertainty all over it. Inwardly, he smiled at her honest question.

"Sorry, Grain, I didn't know. Oh, I feel awkward now."

"Why?"

"Because I know how much you don't like talking about your parents. And I've been pushing you about this. I just wanted to know more about her."

"It's okay," Grain said. Then he took a deep breath. "She helped me through some issues I had."

"Yeah? That's good."

"Yes. Uh. I mean, her parents died in a different way and she barely remembers her father, but it kind of helped to talk about it with someone else who knew what it was like. Even if the circumstances were different."

Amazed that he was still talking about it, she decided the best thing to do would be to stay quiet and listen, in case she inadvertently made him feel uncomfortable again.

"Actually, there is something I've been meaning to say since I got here. I wanted to say sorry about all the times I kind of got weird about my parents. I know I could be a little abrasive when the subject came up."

"Grain... It's fine. Honestly. You were never anything but polite. Abrasive doesn't even come into it."

"If you're sure. I always felt kind of... well, inside. You know?"

"If you did, it never showed. I just figured if you ever wanted to talk, you would. I know I brought it up a few times. I was just worried." She sat up properly.

"About?"

"It's just... Wait, are you okay with me talking about this?"

He nodded.

"Right. Look, I just worried because I thought it was unhealthy to keep it in," She stopped when he saw him raise his eyebrow at her. She rolled her eyes. "Okay, kettle, pot, black. I know. I'm not exactly a good follower of talking stuff out but I do try now, don't I?"

"Yeah."

"I guess it had to be the right time for you too. And the right person," She added quietly.

He frowned. She seemed a little sad all of a sudden. As a joke he asked, "You're not jealous, are you?"

However, she gave him a serious look and said "Would it be strange if I said I was, a little?"

That was so unexpected he didn't know how to answer and he looked at his hands resting on his lap. A moment or two later he turned his body toward her a little. The film was more or less at an end, and he couldn't help but glance at it once or twice, before looking at her.

"I kind of always blamed myself for my mother dying," He said in his low voice.

"What? Why?"

He broke off eye contact and was quiet for a few seconds. Then he answered, "Because my mother always had problems with her mood. Serious bouts of depression. She was kind of stable, but when I was born, she had post-natal depression. Very bad post-natal depression. And I think in some ways it kind of just triggered off those bouts again and she never really shook it off. The night she died, I was nine. She tried to kill herself when I was out. My father came home and found her unconscious. He panicked. He didn't even think to phone an ambulance. He just rushed to get her in the car and drove as fast as he could. On the way, he- the car, it was in a serious accident. They both died."

Amelia leaned forward very slightly, looking as though she was going to cry. She reached out with one hand and took his hand, loosely curling her fingers around his. "Oh, Grain... But you do realise that it wasn't, don't you?"

"Oh, I know. I mean. Logically I knew, you know? But emotionally... I don't know. I just kind of always thought if I hadn't been born, then she never would've had that trigger."

"You don't know that."

He smiled and nodded in agreement. "Clarice kind of helped me see that. Or at least, she just kind of helped me let go of it." He took his hands from her fingers, finding the touch too intense.

She glanced at his hand while it moved away, feeling a moment of emotion she couldn't quite identify. "All these years, you've had that on your mind?"

"Sort of. I guess. I found out about what happened and her post-natal depression during the funeral. Grandma was talking to one of my aunts and they didn't realise I was there. Then I guess the next few months after that I kind of started looking at it that way. I just couldn't talk about it to anyone. I don't know why. After a while I guess it seemed easier not to."

"Gets easier to just deny."

"Right."

"... Thanks for telling me. I'm glad you can talk to me about it."

"Yeah. Well. Like you said, had to be the right time."

"And the right person. If Clarice could have this impact on you... I mean she's obviously a very good friend."

"She is. But that's just it. I think she is interested, but I can't look past seeing her a friend. I just can't."

She thought about that for a moment. "Can I say something here? It might not be something you want to hear."

"Go on."

"I always thought that maybe, the last few years, the fact you've never quite gone for a relationship, that maybe it was because of your parents dying when you were young. That it's just given you this fear."

He was very focused on his hands by the end of that, having already guessed what she was going to say as she was saying it. He nodded. "It's plausible, I suppose."

"You know, if she's this good for you as a friend, then imagine what it could be like if she was your girlfriend," Amelia said. "But I guess if you're not interested, then you're not interested. You can't force it."

"No. I guess I can't."

"I hope you get to that point soon. Being with someone, I mean. If anything, I bet getting laid would break that shell of yours."

A short laugh emitted from Grain as he looked at her in the face.

"You laugh, but it does work for a lot of people. Trust me."

He nodded, "I'm sure it does."

"Well. A time for everything. You're a gorgeous person, outside and inside. It won't be long, I'm sure of it." He gave her that dismissive look of disbelief coupled with humour that always made her narrow her eyes at him and stick her tongue out for good measure. "Now. Are you going to let me read the texts?"

"No. You didn't wait until the film was finished."

"Grain! You can't do that."

But he was already reaching for his phone and handed it to her.

She unlocked it, and pressed the button to read the new messages for that evening. "Oh. First two are from someone wanting to know about work to be done. Typical student. Third one is something about a party-"

"-Oh yeah, I already told him I wasn't interested-"

"-Ah, okay, and.... Ah! Oh. Grain!"

"What?"

"It's Clarice. And if I'm correct, she's basically asking you out."

"Really?"

She nodded. Strangely enough, given her previous enthusiasm for the idea, he expected her to be more excited about it, but now it was almost as if she was treating it as matter of fact. She looked at him, a slight smile on her lips. "What shall I reply?"

He didn't answer. He put his hand out to take the phone back. She gave it to him with a roll of her eyes. Grain glanced at the message, feeling a rush to the head, his body feeling hotter and his heart race, but instead of replying, he locked the phone and put it back in his pocket. Not here and not now. Not with her sitting there.

"Grain!"

"I'll think about it."

"Hmm. Fine then."

He flashed a grin and looked away toward the TV again, all the while his thoughts on her; Amelia.

.....

It took several trips to move everything to her new flat, but she was fully moved in after a couple of weeks. The flat was cosy, warm and had big windows that let in lots of light. There was a bathroom, a bedroom, a kitchen and a living room. It didn't take long for Grain to see Amelia stamp her personality on the place, most noticeably with the piles of books she had, which seemed even more numerous now that she had less space. He suggested perhaps giving some of them away to the local library, but she vehemently shook her head and said she could not think of even parting with any of them. He understood.

From that point on, there was a sense of routine that settled into their lives. Amelia would get home fairly early most days, and Grain, who had taken up a temporary job as a waiter for a cafe owned by one of his aunts, would usually work afternoon shifts and then stop by at Amelia's flat on his way home, when he knew she would be home.

Sooner than both of them had expected, Amelia's divorce became final. Grain remembered that day well. Amelia spent the day feeling relieved and yet saddened by the end of that part of her life. Whichever way she saw it, she had spent a huge portion of her life with the one man and it felt like she had lost a part of herself, at least initially. With a little time, she felt better and carried on with her current life, this time with a conviction and motivation that Grain had not seen in her before. Terry Lewis had decided in anger several weeks before that he wanted nothing more to do with her, and Amelia had hoped he would change his mind and that things would be amiable between them, but after several weeks, she found herself letting go of that idea more easily than she expected.

Several months after she moved into the flat, Grain went through his usual routine. On his way home from work, he decided to stop over at Amelia's for a while, rapping on the door with his usual knock so she would know it was him. He wasn't sure when he actually felt things were different today. Perhaps when she opened the door with that warm smile on her face, still dressed in her work clothes, a white blouse and a tight pencil skirt; one of his favourite outfits on her. Or perhaps it was when he went in and realised that despite the failing light outside, her flat was dimly lit, though the TV was on and so was the radio in the kitchen.

"Have you eaten, Grain?"

"A little bit. I'm not very hungry."

"Well we can maybe order something later. It's Friday night, and I am feeling good."

"TGIF, hmm?"

"Definitely. You working tomorrow?"

"No. Day off."

"I took the next week off."

"Really? Why?" Grain asked in surprise. She always went to and came back from work with enthusiasm.

"Felt like it."

"Are you okay?"

She looked at him and walking up to him, said, "I'm fine."

Feeling nervous at the proximity, he glanced around her living room. On the side table next to the sofa was a book next to the lamp. She had been reading.

"It's a great book so far," Amelia said.

"New one?"

"No, an old one that I found. I realised I hadn't read it."

"Rare for you."

"Do you want to watch a film? Unless you haven't got any time for one or...?"

He looked at her and suddenly realised what was different. She was nervous. She was doing very well with hiding it, it was just the tiny uncertain movement of her eyebrows that gave it away. He chose not to ask about it. If she felt it was right to, she would eventually talk about it.

He nodded. "I've got time. I didn't have any plans or anything, and Grandma said something about going over to my aunt's this weekend."

She nodded once and said, "Good. I think I should just get changed. Well, showered and changed. You'll be okay by yourself for a bit?"

"Of course," Grain said, moving to the sofa and picking up the book.

"Do you need to shower or anything?"

"No. I showered at work before I came. Aunt Nadya has this weird thing about me having to look my best when going home. Maybe she thinks I'll die or something and doesn't want me to be caught out looking disgusting for the ambulance or the public."

She giggled and walked out of the room. "I'll be back in a few!"

Right after she showered, she looked in the mirror at herself, wondering what it was she going to wear. Despite having thought about it all day, her mind was indecisive about all the details of how she was going to go through with her plans. There was a tiny moment of guilt that she dismissed easily. She wanted this. She knew she did. The last several months, perhaps far more than that, she knew how much she enjoyed being around him, more than she thought was right. That didn't matter any more. It was her life and it was up to her what she wanted to do. And what she wanted to do now, was act on her feelings and... see what happened.

No more planning. Just flow.

Looking herself up and down, she fervently hoped he would find nothing wrong with her appearance, though deep down she knew she was thinking about silly little things that didn't matter really. She looked great. Sighing, she dried off her body a little more and walked into her bedroom, noting that he was probably watching the TV, or maybe he had already began reading through the book out of curiosity. She hoped it was that. The book was about a young man and an older woman. She smiled to herself, thinking of how stupid it seemed all of a sudden; the idea of putting that book there to make him think about the situation. Surely if he felt the same, he would need nothing like that to put the idea into his head.

And she was nearly certain that he did. Over the years, all she had seen was tenderness and caring from him. That and more, and his growing up into a handsome man who even now did what he could for her, and looked after her when she needed it, was there for her whenever, and ultimately was the one human being in this world she now could not imagine not having in her life.

On the bed was a choice of two dresses. An old dark blue one that she kept for wearing around the house occasionally, which sort of clung to her curves in places and moved with her body. The other was a new dress she had bought recently. Just for him. She hadn't tried it on yet. As quickly as she could but with composure, she put on the new dress and looked in her full length mirror. It looked beautiful on her. It hugged her figure, showed off a reasonable amount of cleavage and went down to her knees. She looked at the blue cotton dress on the bed. That was more her. Not this new one. And she had worn the blue one around him before, and unless it was her imagination, she was sure he would often glance at her when she wore it. She changed again, and then looked at the door leading to the living room.

Just flow.

When she came back, he was sitting on the floor with his back to the sofa and staring at the TV. He looked up at her in surprise and made sure not to keep staring. That blue dress happened to be his favourite. She slumped down on the sofa, on the opposite side.

"Are you okay on the floor?"

"Yep."

"So what's on TV?"

He looked at her, or more accurately, found himself glancing at her legs. They were bare up to her mid-thigh as she had them folded nearly underneath her. "Not sure. A film just started. Something horror. Whatever it is, so far it's just making me want to watch The Island Of Dr. Moreau."

"Oh that was a horrible film!"

"No it wasn't! Well. Actually it was. Or maybe it depends."

"On?"

"Which version you saw."

"There was more than one of that travesty?"

Grain laughed. "Do you remember the actor in the version you saw?"




Flow of Crimson Satin



An over whelming aura of dragon's blood eagerly prepared to seize her as she entered the dark candle lit room. Her heels buried in the center of yards of midnight blue fabric clicked against the hard polished wood floor, her entrance graceful and seductive. Satine's eyes moved from the numerous amounts of black, red and white candles to the dark satin spread making up a gothic framed bed in the chamber's she'd be summoned too. There was no one there, she was all alone in the cool dimly lit bedroom, the only other movement was the harsh waving the long floor length curtains were forced into when the crisp breeze flew through the open window. Satine lifted her skirt front off the floor a few inches as she walked over to the twin pane window, releasing her skirt she parted the thick curtains moving between the two of them to the stare out over the ocean that glowed in the moonlight, such an enchanting view. 

A foot step, though faint she was sure she heard it. Remaining perfectly still with perfected posture, her back to the rest of the room. The curtains fluttered around her, the material falling from her waist to the floor following the same waving pattern in a mild way. 

"I saw great beauty in you before this night, but that gown, ...that corseted gown as managed to make you even more sublime." Satine closed her hazel eyes, his voice was so deep and calming, that one could simply fall asleep to it on a moment's whim. His heavy foot steps starting to gain on her build, closer and closer until his gloved hands rested on the sides of her shoulders, still she said nothing, her words were silence. His hand moved down from her shoulder to her chest as his finger traced along where the flesh of her familiar bust met with the restricting material of the ribbed corset. His lips than parted once more as he leaned his lips near the skin between her neck and shoulder exhaling warm breath on her skin which forced her very soul to tingle. 

"Does it excite you to be flawless?" he asked as he moved his fingers from her chest up to lacey choker worn around her neck, than back down to grip the sides of her shoulders, pulling her back away from the window, her heart pounded like a drum going into battle as he lead her across the room without letting her see himself until she stared into a mirror with a dark gothic frame much like the bed. He, her Sir lead her in front of the mirror, embracing her upper body from behind, leaning his lips down to kiss her neck in foundation for events soon to occur. 

"Flawless, doll. My little doll." He replied moving his hands up to pull the tie on back of her choker to release her neck from it, setting it aside on a small black wood table, pushing from stray curls back behind his victim's ears. Satine watched him prepare her still body through the mirror, completely overtaking by his own special form of seduction. 

Boldly his grip on her shoulder and neck tightened as he pushed her head to the side clearing the skin of beautiful neck for his hungry taking. Slowly he leaned down as her eyes stared timelessly into the mirror watching like film strip. Everything seemed slower, even time and motion. Satine's head spun around and around high off submission as he lowered his lips closer to neck.. Craving his bite as much as he craved the flow of her crimson silk to coat his lips and mouth. 

He parted his lips, showed off his teeth to her eyes in the mirror, biting down into her neck, squeezing his sharp teeth passionately into her tender pale flesh. Not releasing but only applied more strength into the deep bite until he felt a thin warm fluid against his tongue.. A bit more.. The hot red started to thicken, become richer in his mouth as he licked it up, allowing some to escape and slide down the Satine's back and shoulder. Satine's body half motionless in his arms as she began to slip off into space. He turned her limp body in his arms so that her front faced him, some of her blood smeared over his chin and caked onto his lips. He traced a finger along her breast line once more before he lifted her up all the way into his strong arms. 

Her lord carried his little one over to the gothic bed, lying her frame upon it. He stared at her in all her beauty, red lips, curly raven hair with pale skin stained in her own blood, his own little sleeping snow white. He walked pulled a gem decorated dagger from his belt and rolled Satine over onto her stomach, pushing her hair out of the way of the corset laces. He slipped his dagger under the first cross and cut up through it making his way all the way down her back freeing her from the restriction. Setting the dagger down on a the same table as her choker he smiled. Once again rolling her, this time to her back once again, lifting her upper half up than her legs removing the dress, tossing to the floor no more than a worthless heap of material once a gorgeous gown. 

His flawless snow white now laid in even more perfection being unclothed with no undergarments to worry about removing. He sat down on the bed next her, pulling his gloves off of his hands as his run one of his bare fingers from her breast down to her thigh, than back up and over her waxed mound. He licked his tongue over his teeth, baring them once more as he leaned over and bit into her soft breast and sucked the thin on the thin blood that rippled out of her. Pulling himself up from her breast he took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of her blood that ran over the skin of her chest. 

He moved down and pushed her motionless legs apart as he slipped up between them staring down at her sex, already glossy from arousal. He reached in rubbing her clit with a bloody finger, using his free hand to pull his erection free of from the restriction of his black leather pants. Satine's Sir than pulled a second, much smaller dagger from his belt and touched the tip to the flesh of her left thigh. Sliding it along her skin he watched as her skin slowly started to dibble blood down her thigh. Pulling the the tip away he set it down nearby them incase needed once more. The sight of a knife wound was almost more exciting them the bite, because he was able to watch the blood run down her skin in a unique way, a wide surface at first but the longer it ran the more condense it got under it was finely in a thin thick line than mad it's way to the black them laid upon. 

He grabbed his cock in hand and ran his head up through the stream of blood on her thigh, moaning out in absolute arousal. He pushed himself passionately into her, as deep as he could fit. Brutally thrusting his cock, her body sliding along the blankets of her head, his hands grabbing her thighs for some support, his hand pressed into her knife wound. With a deep moan and grasp from her sub space induced mind he pulled himself out and coated her abdomen with his piping warm seed. Breathing deeply he slowly lifted himself up from the bed, standing before her, he removed the rest of his clothes, admiring his work. His sleeping beauty covered in a mess of blood and cum, just the way she was always meant to be. He knew it when he laid eyes upon her over a year ago. 

Once undressed he walked to the side of the bed and pulled the covers up, lifted Satine and slipped her under them, covering her up, before heading off to the window to sit in the ocean's breeze with a cigarette.



Flow of Passion



Hi, everyone. Here's another little tale I've worked on. This story was truly a challenge and I had fun writing it. It allowed me to loosen up and just enjoy telling a fantastic tale. It is not my usual genre, but I wanted to try something different. Please read it and I hope you enjoy. Please vote and leave comments. Feedback is always welcomed.

Savin

I was asked by my client company to come for a business meeting at a suitable place the southern United States. As they were to bear my expenses and I had to make a choice I suggested Memphis. I also suggested a hotel in Memphis--Peabody Hotel at Union Avenue in downtown Memphis. I had one hope in doing all this. I wanted to meet Flora.

Flora is my pen pal. We had exchanged a lot of mails and I had a feeling that she secretly loved me. While most of our mails were plain but lovingly written only a few times they were naughty. We both are mature and that helped in understanding each other. 

Flora lives in a small town in Mississippi which is close to Memphis. We talked and agreed that it would be easy for her to drive to Memphis so that we could spend time with each other.

I emailed her about my trip and she was delighted as expected. She asked me to phone her as soon as I reached the hotel. She must have been busy in her work because she said she would meet me at my hotel in the evening.

I reached Memphis airport and instead of phoning her from the hotel called her from the airport itself. It was a crisp February morning. I was tired because of a long flight from India to New York and from NY to Memphis. I hit the bed after shaving and taking a bath. I was woken up by the shrill sound of the bedside telephone.

"Sir, there is a lady to meet you. She is in the lobby," the receptionist called from the lobby of the hotel

"Can you send her to my room? I would like to relax for some time before going out with her!" I said.

"Very well, Sir," receptionist said.

I hurriedly washed and changed. As we had known Flora for more than a year and we had exchanged pictures I knew how she looked. She was not very tall, dark and somewhat on the heavier side but she was voluptuous and ignited my passion when I saw her image. In fact I was eager to meet her and suspected that she too wanted to meet me.

There was a light knocking on the door. It must be Flora. I could hear my heart thumping against my chest. I went to the door and opened it.

Flora

I received the call from Savin and within an hour I had hopped into my old '98 Dodge Caravan and drove to Memphis.

I love driving to Memphis. Watching the landscape change from flat to hilly always fascinated me. But today I wasn't that interested in the land, I was finally going to see him, the man that had fueled my fantasies for the longest time. Finally, fantasy was about to meet reality.

I arrived at the Peabody and approached registration. The receptionist asked what I needed and told her the information she needed.

"Excuse me" she replied and turned to make a call.

When she hung up, she smiled and gave me Savin's room number and directions on how to get there. This was it; I was finally going to see him for the first time. I wonder what he will think of me, I thought fearfully. I'm not thin, or very pretty, my self-deprecating thoughts continued.

Within minutes, I stood outside his door waiting to meet my friend. I knew what he looked like because I studied his picture. I could identify every frown, dimple on his face. He was handsome. I wondered would he look as good in person. Well, my wait was over because, slowly the door opened.

I stood transfixed. Heat surged to the core of my being. Never in all my years of existence had I seen a more gorgeous male specimen.

"Hello, Flora, welcome" he said as he greeted me with that sexy accent.

I found that I'd lost my voice. I couldn't speak. 

"Are you alright?" He inquired, concerned by my lack of response. 

He didn't know that his beauty struck me dumb.

I knew we were just friends, and probably would never advance to anything more, but for a second I wished I was the type of woman this God of a man would want.

Finally, I took a breath and spoke.

"Hello, Savin, I am so glad to finally meet you. You know I hardly ever travel, so this trip is an added bonus for me." I explained.

He laughed; his voice was so deep and masculine that it stoked the fire that was already burning inside of me. He then invited me into his room so we could chat.

As he held the door open, I passed and inhaled his scent. Pure masculine power was what he smelt of and I knew then, that I was looking at a man that was pure perfection.

Walking into the room, noticed the decor. Deep rich hues covered the walls. The room was impeccably decorated and I was in awe.

Savin had me to sit and offered me tea. We talked for a while and then he took me out for lunch. Being new to the region, I took the opportunity to introduce him to Southern hospitality. 

Although I am actually from Mississippi, I do know a few hot spots in Memphis. I planned to take him on a blues tour, visit Beale Street, and take in some of the culture of the region. He would be here for at least a week with his job, and I planned to really take time and enjoy this visit with my friend.

Since we had communicated for so long, we had a clear idea of each other's likes and dislikes. I wasn't worried about being offended or accidentally offending him.

He asked where I was staying and I told him a local hotel. Not everyone could afford the great place like the Peabody.

"Oh no, not that place," he said, "the service is horrible. I will make reservations for you someplace where you will be more comfortable. Don't worry, I will cover the cost."

"No, Savin," I said, "I can't let you do that. It wouldn't be right."

"No, my friend," he continued, "I insist."

Graciously, I accepted and we drove over to the Dollar Inn to retrieve my things. He had arranged a stay for me at the Peabody as well and I was ecstatic.

We talked for a while and then I wanted to freshen up before going out that evening; I had one goal in mind. I was going to show Savin my version of southern hospitality and enjoy exploring the magnificent frame of his gorgeous body.

I had wanted a long time for this opportunity, and was not about to let it pass. Then I thought for a moment. Maybe I should let him set the pace. Naaah, tonight is the night, I get the one thing I've longed for.

Savin

It was late afternoon when I reached my room at the hotel which was quite nice, I must say. I washed, changed and decided to visit Flora.

Her room was on the same floor as mine. I was contemplating how Flora would respond if I expressed my desires to her. 

Deep inside I wanted to make love to her. I knew while she did not hate herself she did not like herself either. I had time and again convinced her that she was quite likeable and sexy too. 

I could convince her with my actions but would she like that? I also felt she liked and loved me. However, I was still scared how she would respond. I did not want to lose her.

Flora opened the door when I knocked and when I saw her I lost my breath. My heart lost a heartbeat. She looked so breathtaking--"My, my!" I muttered to myself. She wore a thin translucent one piece sleeveless dress light yellow in color which enhanced her curves. 

I could see faintly her nipples through the dress. I thought they were erect and protruding--fighting against the thin wall of her dress. They were probably inviting me to touch and caress them. The dress was short but not too short--a few inches above her knees. A small portion of her brown sexy thighs showed.

I felt a surge of electric current pass through my body. That moment I wanted Flora--my lovely dear Flo so very, very much.

"Are you going to stand in the doorframe all the time or are you going to come inside?" Flora asked smiling. Neat white teeth showed between her smiling lips and I wanted to kiss those luscious lips like anything.

"Oh, no. Of course not. I am dumbfounded." I somehow managed to utter.

"Dumbfounded? With what?" Flo asked with her sexy inviting smile.

"Well--er--er you--you look so---"I could not say anything further.

"So--what?" I felt Flora was teasing me.

"You--you look damn sexy," I blurted.

Flora laughed aloud. "Oh my God. Sexy? How--please tell me."

I did not say anything. She went away from me and said, "But Sav, I am so happy we met after so much of emailing. I want to celebrate." She went to a small glass top table at one end of the room and bent to pour some wine in two glasses which were already there.

I nearly choked when I saw her from behind. She bent to pour and her dress went up considerably and I could see her butt clearly. It was smooth silky brown with even hue. I could see her butt crack too and thought probably she had not worn panties. 

She rose, turned and looked at me intently and slowly walked towards me. She came near me and dropped the paper tissue in which she was holding my glass. She walked to pick it up and I could see her breasts through the gap. I could see one nipple too. Probably she was not wearing a bra. A wave of desire surged through me and I was again breathless.

Flora probably realized my condition and handing over my glass in my hand she briefly touched my hand. Now this all was getting beyond my control. I could hear her quick breath. She too was excited. She was wearing a very sexy perfume too which I could not place. But it increased my desire manifold.

"Sav, you have not told me what you are finding sexy in me. Tell me."

I considered for a long moment and said, "Everything."

"Still--tell me what is that everything." She came closer to me and I could bear it no longer.

I touched her lips with my finger and said, "These."

Flo looked straight into my eyes and said, "Only these? And why are you showing with your finger?"

With my thumping heart I moved forward and touched her lips with mine. For a moment our lips touched. Then Flora pressed her lips on my lips. I then put my glass on the side table and took her in my arms. She felt very warm--rally hot. 

Through her dress I was feeling her hot body pressing against my body. I could sense her heartbeats too. Then she pushed her tongue in my mouth and searchingly moved it inside. I too caressed her tongue with mine. My hand pressed against her back. 

Yes it was true--she wore no bra. My hand slid below. No panty either. I could feel the soft flesh of her butt cheeks. My cock pushed itself upwards and started pushing on her dress covered pussy which I was sure was as wet as her mouth.

Flora became wild and just crushed me in her arms and said, "Sav, sav. I was waiting. Waiting for long for this to happen. Please, please love me. Love me gently. Love me crudely. 

Love whichever way you want, but love me. I cannot wait any longer!"

Flora

I stood before this wonderful man trembling, wanting him as I had never wanted another. 

My body yearned for him. I needed him like I needed my next breath.

Yet, there he stood looking so damn fine and calm.

He looked amazing. I never wanted a man so badly. 

I grabbed him and held him tightly, vowing to never let go. He was mine, whether he knew it or not. 

"Love me, Savin." I pleaded.

He gripped me in is huge muscular arms and held me tight. His lips covered mine as our tongues engaged in an erotic dance of dominance.

"Ah! My dear Flora," he groaned. "I have dreamed of this."

"Don't talk. Just feel," I demanded. My heart raced in my chest. My nipples throbbed for his touch and the feel of his soft supple lips. 

I slowly moved my arms around his broad back and exhaled as I encountered taut muscle. But, I needed more. I needed all of him. I started to caress his body and realized one of us wore too many clothes.

Eagerly, I started to remove his garments from him. Tugging, pulling, and tearing the fabric.

I knew when I arrived, what I had in mind. I'd been waiting for years for this and would not be denied.

He moved away from me.

"Savin, no" I gasped.

"I'll be right back. 

He moved away to disrobe. I was speechless as I stared at his form.

Gorgeous skin, deep dark eyes, dark hair, A perfectly tone stomach, wide broad shoulders with muscles that could hold a woman and make her swoon.

My eyes trailed down his body landing at the junction of his thighs. Protruding from his midsection was the most glorious cock I'd ever seen.

It was long and thick. Surrounded by a thick carpet of dark hair, it was simply glorious and my mouth watered for a taste.

I stared at him longingly as one small words fell from my lips, "Savin, please?"

"No, my love he said. Later. For now I want to enjoy the loveliness that is you." He whispered.

At this point we devoured each other with our mouths and tongues. Grasping each other tightly we held the other close. We lost ourselves in the feel of one another.

My pussy was on fire. I'd never felt so hot. Steaming juices flowed down my thick thighs as I rubbed my near naked body against his form.

I chose the outfit I wore just for him and he seemed to really appreciate. His eyes were riveted on my form.

I decided to dance for him. I lead him to the bed and had him sit down. Then I began my slow dance of love. 

As I danced, I slowly removed my garment. I knew he was enthralled because his member stayed in attention the whole time.

I kneeled in front of him on the bed and pulled him into a deep kiss. However, I still desired to taste him. I gently pushed him back and kissed my way down his torso. I licked his nipples. 

I laced his navel, and then I reached the Mecca of his being. I pressed my face against his hairs and inhaled. He smelt divine.

Slowly I massaged his member. It was hot, hard, and ready. I admired the thick purple head, the thickness of his rod, and the smooth textures.

I could not wait much longer. I had to taste him. Extending my tongue, I tasted him. 

Savin groaned, "Oh goodness. Please. Please" he pleaded. I then engulfed his member into my hot eager mouth. I took him half way in before my gag reflex reacted. 

I'd never taken one in that was that long before and he would prove to be a challenge.

Savin

I was completely in heaven. I was on the ninth cloud with ecstasy. It was a very long time since anyone had treated me with this kind of deep love and sex. My erect cock was into Flora's wet mouth surrounded by her saliva—very, very wet and she was moving her eager tongue on it everywhere--not leaving any place. Sometimes she was sucking and sometimes licking. 

I must have leaked a good amount of pre-cum and she tasted it--devouring it. She even acknowledged the taste by muttering "Umm, umm--so yummy!" I started fondling her huge breasts. They were soft--the great dark brown nipples as erect as my cock. 

Flora got further excited when I delicately pinched her nipples because she accelerated her sucking of my penis which was now completely in her mouth.

I bent forward and moved my hand on her soft and smooth dark back. She probably got tickled because she moved on one side slightly. I had to bend further to get a feel of her large bums which were also soft and without blemish—like smooth pumpkins. 

I pinched them ever so lightly and she slightly winced-- but appeared excited. My excitement too was no increasing second by second. I could have sprayed my cum in her mouth any moment now. I did not want that to happen--at least not at that moment. 

Not that she would have objected. In fact she wanted to eagerly suck my cock till the last drop of my cum came to her mouth and she relished the taste for a long time before swallowing it.

But I stopped her and said, "Flo, Flo. Stop. I don't want to cum now. Let me get a taste of your lovely pussy."

She looked up and said, "Okay Sav as you please but I want to suck your manhood till the last drop."

"Don't worry. I will let you do that--later. Now sit here." I pointed her to sit on her bed and take her knees up to her breasts. Her lovely pussy became visible to me. They had nice delicate petal like lips and above that pink-red clit which was jutting out and inviting me to kiss. the lips had opened slightly and showed the gate of the heavens--her pink red juicy cunt. 

Flora's cunt was dripping with her cum and even the great hole and orifice of pleasure appeared to be filled with starchy white sticky cum. This excited me and I trembled with pleasure.

I kneeled before her and slowly started licking her pussy. It was nicely shaved and had a velvety smooth feel. I lightly touched her flag of pleasure--her clit and she writhed with pleasure. 

I slowly licked it moving my tongue around it and sometimes touching the tip of my tongue on the tip of her clitoris. She was moaning with happiness saying--"Sav, my cunt-licking loverboy, Sav, more--more. Don't stop."

I did exactly as what she had asked. I licked her clitoris for a very long time. Flo was almost in a trance with pleasure. Then I turned my attention to her cunt. I opened her pussy lips and licked them too gently. By now her cunt was flooding with cum. It started dripping drop by drop on the bed linen. I did not want that to go waste. I caught each drop with my finger and tasted and swallowed. It had a lovely salty, sour and a bit sweetish taste and I wanted more. Flo was generous--her cum flow was also just not stopping.

I winked at her and said, "Flora, I call you lovingly Flo."

"Yes, I know dear Sav."

"But looking at the flow of your cum I am going to call you--Cum Flo!"

Flora laughed heartily. I tasted her pussy inside out for a long time. Then Flo said, "Sav, now can I have your cock? I want it in my mouth--forever."

"Not now," I said and Flo looked disappointed. I calmed her and said, "One thing is still remaining--after that my this small thing is all yours." I pointed at my cock which had grown somewhat smaller. Actually why Flo felt it was a big cock I don't know because it is of modest size and sometimes when not erect it is woefully small. But she must be loving it no end, I thought.

"What is that thing?" Flo asked.

"Just relax and lean back," I said. Flo did as I said. As she leaned back her anus became visible just below her lovely red-brown-pink pussy. It was a lovely purplish brown and the small slit like shit hole closed by small creases. 

The radial creases were soft and brown and looked inviting. Thankfully a sizeable amount of her cum had collected around her shit hole and it was gleaming and shining. I got further excited and moving my head between her legs I started licking her anus. 

It was wet, sticky and well-lubricated by her cum and I could easily put my finger in her anus gently. Flora nearly jumped with pleasure and almost shouted, "Sav, I never knew my shit hole could be such a pleasure spot. Please do more but be gentle!"

Flora

Damn! That boy can eat a pussy. I've never had my pussy eaten so well before. 

"Don't stop. Don't you dare stop!" I screamed.

If he stopped at this point, I would have to hurt him, however, not too badly. When he stuck his tongue in my burning cunt, I creamed.

"Damn, boy. You are a good pussy eater." I chanted. "Eat this pussy, eat this pussy!"

And he feasted. 

Before I knew it his tongue licked my asshole. I'd never had anyone to do that. I groaned out loud as he continued to lick my ass.

The feel of his tongue massaging that orifice pushed me into another orgasm. I was spent. I'd never cum as hard as I did at that point.

I must have been too still, because Savin decided to smack my ass. He rubbed by back and then, POW! Right on my left cheek.

My pussy was watering already.

"Spank me," I pleaded. I like being spanked. "Punish me Savin."