1 comments/  22227 views/  14 favorites

Salvage

By: justtheone



Expansion Edit 4/15 ... 

1.

It was already starting to fade, the way these things do. She should have been pleased; she thought that was what she'd wanted. During the failed Fugue Secession, Captain Dyon Kruger had made herself something of a celebrity as a privateer, most notably when her battered little ship Testament recaptured a planetary-pacifier from the secessionists called the Scourer—four times bigger than hers, it had been dealing out a great deal of hurt to the Vigilance assembly. Yet that particular triumph, though crucial to the war effort, was only part of what eventually attracted so much widespread attention to her. It had far more to do with her aristocratic heritage—she was of one the founding families of Avonlea—and her striking looks. Dyon was young, blonde and possessed the flawless classical beauty of all her kin. Of course that was chiefly the result of gengineering, and of the great Kruger wealth that had paid for it. Less fortunate people shouldn't let such things overawe them, yet they did. Such foolishness remains a weakness of the human species. You'd think we would erase it from us, now that the nology has been mastered to do so. But we don't. 

Now that the secessionists had been wiped out, Captain Kruger and her crew had to take up less glamorous salvage work. The whole system was littered with far-flung wrecks. It had turned out to be a very brief war; it had also been an exceptionally costly one. Worst recorded in five generations. Over a thousand vessels of substantial size were presently listed as destroyed or missing—which only meant that their destruction hadn't yet been officially confirmed. It would take several cycles to clean up all this mess. Good money in the business, provided you could put up with the tedious and often depressing aspects of it.

Then Kruger lost three of her crew to a nasty as-yet nameless virus. Nobody had died, thankfully, but they needed hospitalized and replaced. Their recovery would be long and slow and painful. They were her best people too, her principal cutdown team, and good friends of hers. She was only able to get two new men and she wasn't at all happy with either of them. Shavi and Rojjo. They claimed to be brothers though they didn't look much alike. They were unreliable, and that was putting it too mildly. Didn't take their work seriously, and she was fairly certain they'd brought drugs with them on to her ship. She hadn't caught them using. Nonetheless the signs were painfully obvious. They always laughed too much, and tended to walk funny. She didn't test them. She should have, obviously, but she knew they'd fail and then she'd be obligated to confine the lowlifes until she could hand them over to Vigilance. That would leave her hopelessly shorthanded again. Nobody better was available unless she left Fugue altogether, which she couldn't do without violating her salvage contract. That virus had got all over the fucking system, any place you might want to dock. Possibly it was a leftover bio-weapon some other idiot salvager had released accidentally, or else a last bit of pointless maliciousness from the defeated secessionists. 

Just over halfway through their tour, they happened upon something surprising. A wreck that wasn't like the others. A wreck that wasn't wrecked at all. 

2. 

It was a luxury yacht, about the same size as the Testament, only far prettier. Too pretty, perhaps. 

Drifting on minimum power, yet not completely shut down. No life readings, no transmissions, yet no visible damage. The name was Good Time Girl. It was listed as stolen, from a cycle before the secession broke out. If that was true, why was it floating out here after all this time, untouched? Made no sense. Thieves would have chopshopped it, and they wouldn't have waited to do that, not one day. At the very least, they would have repainted the exterior. 

Captain Kruger went aboard herself with the two new guys. Because she didn't trust them on their own, and the rest of her small crew (just three others, the pilot and the backup and a medic) weren't really meant to leave the ship on these kinds of missions, or most other kinds. They were "shippies", not "downouters"—this wasn't their kind of work. She wasn't meant to leave the ship herself, obviously, as the captain. No choice. She at least knew all the standard procedures and protocols for what salvagers liked to call a "smooth swift sackrun" (playing off the word "ransack"), and she had plenty of hands-on nitty-gritty experience from earlier times. 

Soon as they were through the midlevel hatch, she sent the pair aft to secure the engines and try to power them up, while she headed forward to the helm. Halfway there, she found out the truth about what had happened to this ship. It all made sense, in an instant, when she met two Outrages in the corridor. 

They were a particular type of sexbot that was recently declared illegal, after too many people tampered with their safeguards. They tended to run amuck. 

Same shit must have happened on this yacht. Rich idiots let the things get out of hand and had to flee, stranding them inside. Too scandalous to tell the authorities. So they report the ship stolen and forget about it. If somebody finds it, cleans it out, and returns it, then great. They say thanks and pay a reward with plausible deniability—"Oh dear, you say when you retrieved it, there were Outrages aboard? How bizarre! How dreadful! The thieves must have tried to turn our poor ol' ship into a brothel! Those dirty-minded buggers." And if not, if they never get their ship back, they don't mind. They shrug off the loss. Easy enough. Anybody that can afford a spaceyacht like this can afford to replace it at will.

The robots charged her, roaring. She pulled her blaster and hosed them with plasma. It slowed them down but didn't destroy them. They were built big and hefty. 

One had the head of a lion and the body of a scorpion, except the top of its tail was a giant penis in place of the stinger. The second one was a minotaur with four arms and two cocks, one right above the other.

They'd be laughable if they weren't so disgusting. How could people get turned on by this kind of shit? It was baffling. Hundreds of different types had circulated, before the crackdown. The designs that didn't manage to look frightening just turned out damn silly instead. The very first one she'd seen, many cycles back at a party while she was still in university on Avonlea, it had been a vast jumble of clawed arms sticking out all over a vaguely horse-like body, resembling the fruit-picking robots they used in their orchards—it would be like trying to have sex with farm equipment! Hardly her notion of erotic. She hadn't stuck around. 

Yet the wretched things became quite a craze for quite a while, and the weirdest models were usually the most favored. Much of that, no doubt, was the result of cunning and aggressive marketing from their manufacturers, so the purchase of Outrages had become a mark of distinction and sophistication, while anthropomorphic fuckbots, no matter how beautiful and lifelike, were supposedly only for the unimaginative, the old-fashioned, and the timid. The bourgeois.

The fad hadn't lasted long. Thank God. But it had never died out entirely either. Couldn't be healthy for the species. Normal fuckbots were a different story; she'd indulged with a few of those herself, upon occasion. Perfectly harmless adult toys, in her view. A comfort for lonely moments. Only how do you start a family, or maintain one, if instead, trying to be daring and artistic or whatever, you've taught yourself to get turned on by whacky metal monsters or farm machinery? Maybe it was puritanical of her to feel that way—she just couldn't imagine people like that succeeding in marriage or parenting down the line. Demented decadence. 

And now two particularly aggressive examples of that demented decadence were trying to get their hands (or pinchers) on her, unless she destroyed them first. 

If she'd brought a bigger, more powerful gun, she would have been all right. All she had was her little handgun and it didn't quite cut the mustard. It took out the lion-headed scorpion, and then its battery failed on her. Her stomach wrenched as she watched the bright disruptor beam dim down and then peter out, leaving nothing but a useless wisp of steam from the crystal tip of the weapon's overheated emitter. A rather dreadful and emasculating sight. Silly perhaps for her to think of that particular word, only there's no proper female equivalent, or not one that readily occurred to her. To feel oneself robbed of strength and potency and pride, all at once. That was what she felt when her gun died. Her balls had just been chopped off. 

All she could do after that was run, which wasn't easy in her cumbersome semi-armored spacesuit, with its chunky boots and airpack. Pointless. She tried to lunge through a door on the left, hoping to barricade herself in the room. Didn't make it, not even close. The minotaur caught her in seconds. 

She screamed for help—actually she'd been screaming since the Outrages appeared. Shavi and Rojjo should have got up here already. They'd had plenty of time. She wasn't particularly surprised that they hadn't showed yet. Useless retarded assholes, the pair of them. Did they have their comms switched off, while they dicked around with the engines in the ass of the yacht? 

First thing the robot did was twist her helmet off and hurl it over its shoulder. With four arms to work with, the minotaur was able to hold her hands over her head and stretch her up on her tiptoes while it tore off her entire spacesuit with its extra pair of hands. She was just lucky the yacht's life support was still functioning, like the internal grav. A little chilly in the corridor. Otherwise the air was fine, both the quality and the pressure level. 

The beast wasn't content with removing the spacesuit. Well, of course it wasn't. It went to work stripping off her uniform beneath, and her underwear beneath that. "Don't you do that! Don't you dare!" It dared, though. And it was thorough about it. Crazy monster even took a second to flick the elastic headband from her hair, and to peel off her socks. It chuckled, while it did, and snorted steam out its nostrils. Her toes clenched defensively and she couldn't stop herself whimpering—the socks had been her last remaining pathetic scrap of clothing, her nudity didn't truly hit home until they got taken, and besides, her feet were very ticklish. 

Its twin robococks were illuminated with red coils pulsing under their synthetic skin, and they vibrated, growling. 

Deeply mortifying experience, to be stripped like this by a towering nightmarish monster, powerless to escape or fight back. She was supposed to be a mighty war hero, best of the best, for God's sake! Now she was helpless and bare ass naked! Overcome by a mindless mechanical plaything—not a real monster but only a kind of puppet, a ridiculous malfunctioning household appliance. It wanted to fuck her! If she couldn't get away—and she couldn't—the robot was going to start nailing the hell out of her any second! All she could do, besides curse, was wriggle around and kick at it. And all those movements seemed to do was excite it further, even when her exposed toes connected with its balls (all four of them), as well as perhaps unwittingly assisting it in the speedy removal of her clothing. Twisting and kicking herself out of her own shredded layers. 

"Shit! Shit! Let go of me! Let go! You can't treat me like this! God damn you!" 

She knew it wouldn't kill her, though. It probably wouldn't injure her either. Not on purpose. It was a sexbot, you had to remember, it was made for sex. It just wanted to have sex with her, not eat her or mutilate her. And when it fucked her—this was the key thing—it wouldn't be doing that to get itself off, like a regular male beast—it would be trying its damnedest to get her off, again and again. That was its sole purpose, the primary objective of its entire existence. Ghastly as it looked, it was designed to give physical pleasure. This was meant to be an entertaining adult toy, not a weapon or a torture device, despite its appearance to the contrary. When the things went wild after their safeguards got shut off, they still wouldn't hurt you—that was never the problem. The problem was just they wouldn't stop fucking you. They worked too well, with too much single-minded dedication. You couldn't get away from them, not on your own. People had supposedly lost their minds, or come close to it. At least those were the stories you heard. A sort of dirty joke evolving into a legend. Exaggerated bullshit, most likely. A myth for perverts to speak of in hushed tones. 

It made you wonder, of course. How could it not? Anybody would react the same exact way—you wanted to find out what the thing could do. You wanted to find out if it lived up to its programmer's aspirations, and the crazy legends that had spread. She hadn't got any decent sex in her life in far too long—not since the outbreak of the stupid war, in fact. No good opportunities had presented themselves. Not to say this qualified, all things being equal ... Yet when life gives you lemons ... 

In space, and in war, and in everything else, there is no survival trait more vital than adaptability. 

There was an e-scape she'd been fiddling through occasionally in her office during dead hours—you get a lot of dead hours on space missions, what with space being so fucking big and completely empty and boring, for the most part. It was a sword-and-sorcery thing, where she'd play a cute warrior-witch in a spooky forest fighting bunches of muscular sweaty tattooed barbarians with really big swords and really tiny loincloths. And she'd screwed up the settings accidentally; like a lot of e-scapes, maybe most of the silly things nowadays, you could put into a pornographic mode, if you felt like. She'd done that without realizing somehow. Clicked on the wrong button on the starter menu or something. So afterward if she let the barbarians beat her, rather than die and reset, her character would get tied up and stripped naked and gangbanged. It was pretty atrocious, and she would have been offended by it except the way it was done was so cartoonish and silly and over-the-top, it cracked her up instead. And then the more she watched those stupid scenes, the more they started to get to her. Started to turn her on, what with no other outlets handy in her life. Not a whole lot, not seriously—but some. She'd never gone as far as fingering herself under her desk while she played the e-scape, but there were times she got tempted to. The barbarians would fuck the little witch warrior into a stupor if you let the scenes play long enough, until the character's big blue eyes would cross and her tongue would hang out. And instead of screaming and moaning, she'd just giggle out of control, endlessly. 

Stupid as it was, it made you wanna get fucked like that. As crazy and dirty as can be. Just once in a girl's life, at least. Just to know what it was like. 

The Outrage robots were designed to make that exact idea a reality. 

Getting captured by one, and getting stripped nude by it, and knowing what it wanted ... Well, freaked out as she was, it still couldn't help but turn Dyon on. She felt the stirring inside her. Not to say she was happy about it. Still, it was there. It occurred. The kindling of desire, and curiosity. Just a tiny bit. A faint scorching flicker, and then the itchy tightening in her belly, and in her crotch, and in her throat ... 

She felt her pussy moisten and squirm and seep. 

Dear God, she thought, what am I going to do? What if it ... and what if I ... Oh God! If I surrender ... If it makes me ... Oh help! The shame of it! My reputation! My career! 

Only part of her felt this way—a very small part, at the back of her mind. On the surface, she gave no sign. Hid her fears, and showed not the slightest inclination to give in. The look on her face was an expression of murderous blazing fury. "You piece of shit! I'm going to have my men smash you into tiny pieces, and then we're going to melt all those tiny pieces into slag. And then I'm going to have the slag ejected into the void! Do you hear me! I'm going to erase your existence from the cosmos!" 

The robot didn't respond to any of these remarks. Could it even hear or understand her? Wouldn't it have to, to determine it was doing a good job on her? How else could it tell? Well, there were other physiological signs ... more trustworthy indicators than verbal signals, if it had the means to detect them. Probably its body was filled with sophisticated sensors, beaming straight through her skin. A ghastly thought. 

It proceeded to penetrate her with both its cocks at once. Entering her pussy and ass at the exact same time. Yet it was not rough about this. It took its time, lining her up carefully and easing its appendages in with meticulous precision and patience. The robococks' internal vibrations assisted in stimulating lubrication from her body. They also each emitted copious lubricant themselves. More than enough.

"Uhhn! Uhhuuhh! Stop it! Stop this at once! Listen to me! This is your last warning! Don't you understand? If you don't release me this moment, I swear I'll—I'll—Ohh! Oh shit! Ohhoohhoohh! Ohhuuhh! Will you listen? Will you just listen? You can't do this! Not to me! You mustn't do this to me! Stop pushing! Stop pushing! Wait a second! Wait! Dammit! Just wait!" 

It did not. It held her suspended in the air at a steep slant, her pointed toes no longer reaching the deck. She couldn't get away. No escape, no defense. It had turned her around, so her back was to him, and her bottom. One set of arms still held hers outstretched over her head, the huge hands like manacles clamped on her wrists, its other hands gripped her at the hips. He kept her legs separated with his thighs braced between them, thick and immovable as tree trunks rooted to the deck. Its mighty cocks, once they were implanted, could probably have supported her at that startling airborne angle all by themselves, if it let go of her. Not that it did. 

The twin cocks didn't hurt much, not even the one invading her butt. At least not like she expected. Not that they pushed in perfectly easy either. A whole lot of stretching and pressure and heat—painful, but not exactly real pain, not the normal horrible kind. Instead it was the nice kind, that sort of tingly tickling "good burn" you build up inside your muscles when you're working out, that energizes you and encourages you to push for more. 

And of course there's the other way you get that tingling good burn besides working out—especially in your pussy, or up within your ass. You get it from letting a well-endowed man shove his penis in those places, if/when he's got your parts aroused and lubed enough to accommodate the intrusion. Which was exactly what was happening. Then again, that's just a particular specific form of workout, isn't it? A false distinction, pretty much. 

This was awful, though, feeling that "good burn". That realization or recognition—it was the moment she knew she was doomed. The fact this didn't feel horrible made it more horrible, overall. Her body was yielding. Her mind would follow. 

This was when she succumbed to despair. The look on her face changed, and the tone of her outcries. Furious protests, threats and curses were replaced, now its twin cocks were tunneling slowly but resolutely upward inside her, by pleading and whimpers, groans and gasps. "Oh God. Oh dear God. God no. No! Please! You monster! Youuhhhooh!" Yet soon, both her passages had expanded to accept and entirely engulf the full lengths of cocks, with no tearing or bloodshed, no great agony. Except of course the emotional agonies of weakness, surrender, captivity and humiliation. "Please! Let me go! Let me go! Ahhuuhh! Ahhuuhhaahhuuhh!" It began to pump her up and down on the cocks. It got down to the steady business of fucking her brains out. "Don't do this to me! You can't do this! You can't!" It could, though, it damn well could, and it would, and in fact it already was. "Nooohhoohh! Nooohhuuhhooohh!"


Salvage



Feeling it—the feeling of it—well, it was the feeling of fucking. Surprisingly unsurprising. More intense, sure. Much more, oh indeed. Yet perfectly familiar, for all that. Dyon Kruger was a beautiful woman, she'd had plenty of sex in her life. Not for a long and lonesome while, thanks to the damn silly space war, but earlier phases of her life had been quite amply supplied. Thus there was familiar and undeniable internal pleasure in this experience. The extreme tactile pleasure that fucking is supposed to give you. This artificial and non-consensual fucking was giving it to her, and whether or not she wanted it or hated it didn't make any damn difference. It was what she got. The all-too-familiar pleasure of sex, long absent and painfully missed ... And not the gentle, cautious, clumsy kind, but the other sort, the way she generally preferred it, aggressive and intense and animalistic. She got flooded with the sensations, her whole suspended, spread-eagle body, a system-overload. Stomach-churning, heart-stopping, teeth-gnashing, toe-curling fuck-spasms blasting into her pussy and into her ass and outward from them in shivers and electric shockwaves all through her captive flesh, every displayed inch of her, every molecule. 

"Ahh! Ahhaahhuuh! Shit! Shit! Oh shit! Ahhaahh huuhhaaahhh shit! Shit! Huuhhaaahhoohh!" 

It was terrifying. It was disgraceful. This would destroy her. She knew it without question. "I can't take this ... I can't bear this ... Wait! Please! Oh God! Ohhuuhhooh!" No human being could withstand this level of stimulation. There are heights of pleasure you're simply not made or meant to feel. Because you can't come back from them. You can't go back to ordinary existence. You're left shattered and shriveled. You're left hooked.

"Not so hard ... please oh please not so hard ... Please just listen ... just slow down and listen ... Just a moment! Oh! Oh! I beg you! I'm begging! Ohhaahhuuh! I'll go mad! I'll lose my mind! Please!" 

And just then, at last, salvation finally arrived. Shavi and Rojjo came jogging up the corridor. Not quite in the nick of time, no siree—she was still overjoyed to see them. They would rescue her! With two pistols firing in concert they could surely kill the robot in seconds. Only at first all they did was stare at her with their mouths hanging open. Their heads jostled up and down, as the robot fucked her. 

Okay, a moment of shock, fine. Fair enough. Might happen to anyone. But the moment stretched and kept stretching. Neither asshole made a move, except to blink, and waggle their chins up and down.

The delay allowed time for her to become fully aware again of the embarrassment of her position, taking rapid precedence in her heart and soul over all other considerations. It changed her mind about their arrival—she wished they hadn't turned up after all. Rescue carried too high a price, at this stage in the proceedings. She'd rather not pay it. The two men were seeing their commanding officer completely naked, and that would have been bad enough. They were also seeing her get double-pronged by a monster fuckbot. This was going to make it difficult to work with them in the future, very difficult—it would be tough for them to respect her the way they used to. It would tough for her to give them orders without stuttering and blushing. An effective leader must maintain an aura of dignity and authority. Hers was all shot to hell, forever. The happiness and relief she felt when they appeared faded away almost completely, drowned beneath the inescapable and unendurable humiliation of the moment. A humiliation that wouldn't end or get erased, when they saved her. Fuck. 

And neither of the morons had got around to that part yet anyway. 

"God! God! Gaawwwd!" she screamed at them, "Assholes! Don't just stand there gawping, you idiots! Shoot him! Pull out your guns and shoot! Stop this thing! Help me, for God's sake! Help me! Shoot him! Shoot it dead!"

Rojjo pointed his weapon. Then Shavi grabbed his wrist and pushed his arm down. Rojjo looked over at him with confusion, Shavi shook his head. He was smiling. The son of a bitch was grinning as he watched her get fucked. 

"What? What? Are you kidding? Help me! Help me! Damn you! Uhhuuhh-Uhhuuhh-Uhhaarrhh! Please! Help me! You have to help me! Please!" 

They didn't. They stayed right where they were, and didn't do anything ... except stare at her and grin.

She realized that was all they were gonna do. Watch and enjoy the show. Like she was just a piece of pornography. Oh God. Oh God. This was unbelievably heartless and shitty and cruel—but it was happening. They weren't going to rescue her. 

She screamed and screamed. And now she wept, as well. She bawled like a toddler. The looks on their faces ... the boyish glee on them. Like kids at a birthday party. This felt far worse than everything the robot was doing to her. This was a billion trillion times more disgraceful and demeaning. It would have shocked her less if they'd shot her through the heart with their guns. Even if they'd done it before the robot showed up, that wouldn't have been near as bad a betrayal. 

"You ... you bastards! Bastards! You fucking fuckers! Uhhhh! Uhhhaaahhuuhh! How can you uhnn-uhhn how can you do this! Uhhrrh! To me! To anyone! You're inhuman! I'm the captain! I'm your captain! Guuhhaawwhhhd! You're just gonna watch? You're just gonna watch this happen? Hoohhuuh! Huuhhaaahhhuuhh!" 

No, they weren't just gonna watch. They also unzipped the fronts of their suits, fished their hard-on's out of their pants and jerked off at the show. 

"No! No! You're sick! Sick! Jesus! Ahhhuuhhaahh!" But now the rage in her voice dissolved again to pitiful pleading. "Help me! Please! Please help me! Stoppit! Stop! I'll do anything! I'm begging you! Save me from this thing! Oh please! You bastards! Oh God please oohhoohh no nooohh!"

Things carried on like that for a considerable period ... 

The robot fucked her and fucked her and fucked her, while she made a great deal of embarrassing noise, alternating between curses and pleas, until she was no longer capable of words, only wailing, howls, screeches and grunts ... 

Droplets of her sweat and other juices were flung from her body all over the place, splashing every side of the corridor, the walls, the ceiling, the floor ... 

The two assholes in front of her just watched and listened and smiled and quietly calmly masturbated. 

It was almost funny, wasn't it? Or it might have been if above and beyond that it wasn't so completely pathetic and absurd. The high and mighty hoity-toity Captain Kruger of Avonlea ... Look at her now. Like a sequence from the trashiest imaginable e-scape for pervs and sadsacks to wank off to, just as Shavi and Rojjo were doing. But this wasn't just pretend, this wasn't a fantasy enacted on a viewer by exaggerated animation, this was real! A real life woman with a real life fuckbot. Real life screams. 

Hell, if this filthy demeaning nonsense was happening to some other spaceship captain, Dyon imagined she would have found it very tough to feel much sympathy for her. Any woman stupid enough to let such obvious irredeemable drughead shitbags like Shavi and Rojjo on her crew, she pretty much deserved the disgrace she was getting, didn't she? Served her right. She should have been much smarter and much more careful, if she was half the captain she was cracked up to be. 

She shouldn't have called for them, when the Outrage captured her. She should have handled this matter on her own. Kept her stupid mouth shut, killed her own commline, and just let the thing do its business while the men farted around in the ass of the ship the whole time, completely oblivious to what was happening. They never would known a thing, maybe. The machine wasn't going to kill her. Think how much more tolerable this experience would be without an audience. She could have coped all right, in solitude. Well, better than otherwise, at the very least. It would still have been exhausting and scary and deeply humiliating, but nowhere near as bad. Might have been able to take some secret enjoyment in it, regardless. She shouldn't have bothered fighting the robot's stimulation. Not for a second. Shouldn't have tried, complete waste of time and effort. Should have just closed her eyes and let it all roll over her and through her ... 'Cause what the hell, why not? If nobody would have known ... 

Problem was, there was still going to be enjoyment, and on an extreme level, whether she fought the feelings or otherwise ... only it wasn't going to be secret. Not at all. The bastards were gonna get to see it. Every single moment of it. That was the real killer, the ultimate humiliation. She would never live this down. The evil treacherous fuckers were gonna get to watch her come, again and again and again. And it wasn't going to be subtle, when she was made to. The Outrage was too well built for this. The men weren't gonna miss it, when it happened. There wasn't gonna be any doubt or ambiguity. 

Part of her brain shut down. The only protective measure left at her disposal. So that's what it did—it did it to itself. She lost her sense of self, and the ability to think coherently. Couldn't have remembered her name, anymore, or how she'd got into that situation. All that remained of her was raw naked unfiltered feeling—the howling fiery hurricane of sensation and emotion, blended and blurred. Rage entwined with shame entwined with bliss entwined with agony entwined with rage and so on and so on, endlessly looping. 

It was hell, and it was also heaven.

"Ahhaahhuuhh! Uhhoohhuuhh! Ahhaahhuuhh Gawwd! Gawwd! Uhhnnnuuhh!"

Dyon never lost consciousness completely, and afterwards she would find herself capable of remembering the entire experience with crystalline clarity. But only as a series of vivid, startling, obscene images. Like all of it happened to someone else, not to her. Like an e-scape. Like it was something she just witnessed, not actually lived through. She would remember it as if she'd been standing outside her body the whole time, next to Shavi and Rojjo. The physical and emotional sensations, she would not retain. Or if she did, she would not acknowledge them. She knew she must never allow herself. She'd put a great black door within the depths of her being, and everything behind it must remain sealed away and buried, forevermore. 

After the men both eventually came—Shavi took much longer to get done than Rojjo—and they'd tucked their cocks away again, then they finally raised their guns and blasted the Outrage through its head. Took several shots, and they damn near took her own head off while they were at it. Then at last, with a groan, the robot shut down. 

It froze. Didn't fall over, nor did it drop her. The men had to pry its big hands open with tools to get her free from it. Took another twenty minutes. 

She didn't say a single word, not while they worked, nor after she was loose and she was putting her clothes back on, the few pieces that were salvageable. The men said nothing either. The rest of her crew on the Testament were also wise enough to keep their mouths shut and act like they didn't know anything about what had happened. Of course they would have heard it all through the comms. Every moment of it. She'd certainly made plenty of noise for them all to listen to. 

Hard to say how long the robot fucked her. When they got back to her ship, she found out they'd been over there a little over ninety minutes. She wasn't sure how long it was between first boarding the yacht and then getting grabbed by the Outrage. Somewhere probably between two minutes and five. Maybe a bit longer. 

What she did know, though she would never speak of this to anyone, was that the robot had brought her to explosive orgasm five times before she lost track. And there had been another two or three times after that before Shavi and Rojjo got themselves off and finally put a stop to the ordeal. 

3.

She took an hour in her quarters to settle herself down. A long hot soothing shower, a couple stiff drinks. Then she got into a fresh uniform—she didn't roll up the sleeves like she would normally do, nor did she leave the collar unfastened. She buttoned it tight to her throat. She wanted to look as formal as possible. She carefully braided her hair, and even pulled on a pair of dress gloves. 

She felt hollowed out inside, from the fucking. From the orgasms. An aching, echoing column of emptiness, from her crotch all the way up through the middle of her body, to the top of her head. Like an apple with the core sliced out. Yes, like her brains had literally been fucked out of her skull, and her guts along with them. 

Her pussy didn't feel like it was closing properly, and her butthole felt the same. Both, unsurprisingly, were very sore, throbbing and itching intermittently. Nothing was leaking out of her any longer, but it felt like any moment, more fluids might start escaping. Perhaps an oozing trickle, perhaps a great gush. So she kept clenched inside, as tight as she could manage, trying to hold the stuff in, whether it was really hovering in there or only existed in her mind. 

Then she strode resolutely to her office, and summoned the pair before her. She did not take her chair behind the desk. When they walked in, she stood waiting with her hands on her hips. 

"I could have the both of you prosecuted, for what you did."

Shavi nodded but then shrugged. God, she wanted to kick his teeth in. He said: "You don't want to do that, Captain. Do you? The inquiry would be embarrassing for you." 

She didn't answer that. Not directly. "There will be no inquiry. We'll keep the matter quiet. Simpler for all of us. I am of course terminating both your contracts, as of now. That means the moment we reach dock, you will leave my ship. And I do mean immediately. Clear? I've nothing further to say—nothing that would do any good for scum like you. We will not speak again. You are dismissed."

"No, Captain. You mustn't do that."

"Excuse me?" 

"Listen. You're being much too hasty about this."

"Hasty? How dare you?"

"Well, to put it simply, I dare because I can. And the reason I can, you see, is 'cause of this ..."

He pushed a button on the chunky interfacer he wore around his wrist. Her wall screen activated. A crackling burst of static, and then it cleared and she was looking at herself, writhing naked in the clutches of the Outrage. Larger than life, her own face contorting with agony, crimson and shiny with sweat. 

The sound was turned low, but still faintly audible. She could hear herself whimpering and then wailing: "Please! Oh God! Ohhuuhhuuhhoohh! God help me! No more! Please no more! Ahhaahh! Ahhuuhhaahh!" Her voice was like a little girl's. "Don't look at me! Don't watch! Please stop watching! Please just stop staring at me! I'm begging you! I'm begging! I can't stand it! I can't stand it! I'm gonna die! I wanna die! Please!" She'd never known her eyes could open that wide. In the magnified image, each of her eyes was as big around as her whole face in real life. Even regular size, it would have shocked her. "I'm coming! I'm coming again! Oh God I can't stop coming! Ahhhaahhuuhhaaah!" She watched herself being fucked so hard and so fast, you'd think she was about to split in half. You'd think her tits were about to rip themselves off her chest, swinging like jackhammers. Seeing that made them start aching again. Her screams were distorted on the recording—too loud and too high. 

She nearly fell over. Felt like she'd been punched in the belly. "You—you made a recording! God!" 

"Yep. With my hand-scanner in my gauntlet. One of them—the other hand was busy. Heh heh. I'm surprised you didn't notice before. Well, then again, I guess it's perfectly understandable. You had so much else to deal with, didn't you?"

"You son of a bitch." 

"Just take a moment, all right? Don't fly off the handle. Think. Consider what would happen to your reputation if this started to circulate, on the focean." 

"You—you can't do that. You can't do that to me." 

"Then you can't kill our contracts, Captain. Fair's fair. Look, I know you don't like either of us. You got a real nice ship and we like working here with you, but I also admit we're not quite up to your usual standards and we won't stick around forever. All you gotta do is let us complete our tour, like originally agreed, and then you're gonna have to give us nice performance reviews when it's done. Then we'll move on. Okay? Don't look at me like that, all down in the mouth. It won't be so terrible. Just another couple months and we'll be out of your hair. You'll have to give us bonuses, though. Nothing extreme. We don't wanna bankrupt you. How about another fifteen percent, for each of us? I think that's fair. And it won't raise anybody's eyebrows." 

"I won't do it. Go to hell." 

"You sure? Hey, it's up to you. Brave choice. I guess it's not gonna kill you, if we publish the recording. In fact it might bring you a lot more business. They say there's no such thing as bad publicity. You're already pretty famous. This is gonna get the whole galaxy talking about you again, and probably beyond. Myself, I don't know if I could handle that much heat, you know. Not on that level, not like this. It would get under my skin. I'd probably die of the shame. Maybe for you it's different. After all, you do look damn good up there. No denying that. Hell of a show. As a piece of pornography, it's really spectacular. Look at it! Look at you go. Holy crap. Turns me on like crazy."

On the screen, she was begging again. "Please let me rest! Please! Just a few moments! Please! I can't breathe! I can't stand anymore." The Outrage was in the process of inverting her. It had done that a few times, for brief periods. Holding her upside down by her ankles and making her suck on its cocks. "Umm-umm-ummm. Uhnnuuhhuuhh." It still wouldn't leave her pussy or her ass alone while she was doing that—it used its other set of hands on them, forcing more splashy climaxes from her with its thick hairy fingers, while at the same time tormenting the bottoms of her feet and between her clenched toes with its long black tongue. Watching that happen, remembering the feeling, it made Dyon curl her toes again inside her boots. Now the monster was rotating her back upright, for another impalement. "Mmmuuhhh-mercy! Mercy! When will you be satisfied? How many times must I come for you? Please! My God! Guuhhhaaahhuuhh!"

How could it be her up there on the wall, looking like that and making those sounds? Yet it was. And Shavi was absolutely right—as an e-scape, as a piece of pornography, it had real power. It was dreadful and horrifying and she couldn't tear her eyes off it. It was bringing the feelings all back, all of them, all over her. God. It was. 

Shavi was still talking. "Maybe it makes you proud, seeing how hot you look. Is that it? It doesn't make you embarrassed? Or maybe you're just too plain tough, regardless. I admire that, Captain. Okay. We'll play it your way, if you want. We'll pack our things. Soon as we get back to the station, just like you said, we'll get gone. Come on, bro."

She almost let them walk out the door. Almost. "Wait. Wait, dammit. Just ... wait." 

"You change your mind?"

"Fifteen percent? Each?" Considering the alternative, he was right, it wasn't so terrible. 

"That's what I said. And favorable evaluations for our employment files, remember, so we won't have no trouble getting good new jobs." 

"Just so long as I don't have to renew your contracts myself. Whatever it takes." 

"Good. We got a deal." 

"Shut off that fucking recording now. I don't want to see that shit ever again."

"Sure thing, Cap." The wall screen blanked out. 

"Get out of my office now." 

"As you command, Madame Captain."




Salvage



"I told you a hundred times not to call me that. Just Captain."

"Madame Captain sounds much better, though. Oh, wait a sec, there's one more tiny thing, before we go. You have to take your uniform off. For the rest of the tour, we don't want you to wear one. We don't want you to wear anything at all. Okay?"

"W-what? Are you ... joking? Did I hear you right?" 

"Don't get upset, it's not such a big deal. The rest of the crew won't object. We asked around already. Doesn't matter if they did—you're the captain, after all. You can do whatever the hell you want on your own ship, right? So get naked." 

"You're unbelievable. Un-fucking-believable." 

"It won't change anything. Just make things more fun. You'll still be the leader, you'll still give all the orders, and the rest of us will carry them out exactly like before. Only for the rest of the tour, you'll stay in the nude. The whole time. You look much better that way, much more ... loveable. You know I'm right. It'll be a much happier voyage, all around, and a much more exciting one. We'll make sure to boost the internal temperature throughout the ship so you won't get too chilly." 

"Never. You've lost your mind. You pushed too far." She opened a drawer in her desk, pulled out a blaster and pointed it at him. "You could have got away with this, if you just knew when to quit. No more. Both of you are going out the airlock. Right the fuck now." 

"Deal's off then? Okay." His finger was poised over his bracelet again. "The upload is all set to go, right now. I made sure before we came in here, I set it up real careful. Shoot me, I bet I still press the button as I drop. Then the whole galaxy gets to see you naked, instead of just your crew. And not just that, of course. It's not just you by yourself without your clothes on, is it? They're gonna get to watch that fuck-machine railing your brains out. They're gonna get to see how much you loved it while it happened. You know you did. You can't deny it. I can transmit the recording to the focean right now, in less than a second. Just gotta push this button and off it flies. Is that what you want? Last chance, Madame Captain. Fire that gun or put it back in your desk. Decide." 

Her hand was shaking. She should shoot. She should just shoot them both. 

She burst into tears and lowered the gun. "Shit. Shit. Shit." 

"Then you'll cooperate."

"Yes. I suppose I've no real choice ... Dammit." 

"Do it then. Show us, right now. Put away that gun. And then take off that uniform."

"Now? Right now?"

"Yes, that's what I said. Come around the desk first so we can see you properly. Now strip." 

She shut her eyes and did what they wanted. There was a great roaring in her ears. Yet it didn't obscure the sounds of her uniform's zippers and snaps, all of which seemed to echo in the little room, or the rustling and thumps of the heavy stiff cloth as she peeled off its layers and let them fall to the floor behind her. She thought she might faint. She wished she would. It never happened, though. Her pussy and her ass burned inside, and both passages felt swollen and leaky. They'd felt like that this entire time, under her clothing, but it worsened as she exposed them again to the air, and to the men. She whimpered. She couldn't help it. 

"All the rest now. Don't forget those silly gloves. Socks too." 

"Seriously?" 

"Yep."

"Let me keep my stupid socks, at least. What's it matter?"

"Clearly it does. You ain't really naked if you still got socks on. Give 'em up, Cap."

"Fine. I don't care. Fine. Shit. Oh God. Shit." 

She stood to attention, chin high and arms stiff at her sides, trying to maintain some illusion of dignity. The deck plating was extremely cold, gritty under one foot and sticky under the other. Spilled coffee, probably. When was the last time she had the floor cleaned in here? Too long.

"You are so lovely, Madame Captain. Much too sexy to hide it under a prissy uniform all the time. Most beautiful smoking hot captain in the galaxy." 

"Is your pussy wet?" Rojjo asked. It was the first thing he'd said in here. "I bet it is." 

She felt herself blush. They both laughed at her, slapping each other's backs. It was too much. Her poise deserted her. She wasn't a captain anymore, or an aristocrat. They'd taken more than her uniform, they'd stripped her of status too. She'd let these villains reduce her to a lowly helpless whore. Her head drooped and her shoulders slumped. She covered her parts with her hands and trembled. Her pussy continued to burn beneath her hands, and to seep. 

Shavi and Rojjo both unzipped their pants and brought their cocks out, waggling them at her, stiff and eager. They looked bigger and scarier than before. As big and scary as the Outrage's had been. 

"Are you gonna rape me?" she asked. Ridiculous question. 

"That depends on how good a job you do sucking my cock off right now. And also my bro's. How about you get up on your desk now. On your hands and knees, Madame Captain. No, better yet, lay flat, with your legs curled behind you. Yeah, that way you've got your mouth on a better level for us. And I like seeing your pretty feet kicking back in the air like that. Curling those cute perfect toes tight, just like when the Outrage was pounding you." 

"I can't believe this is happening to me." Yet even as she spoke these words, as she climbed on her desk and flattened herself across the top, squishing her breasts and her hardened nipples beneath her, in a funny way, deep in her heart and in her guts, it was all too easy to accept this turn of events. As if she'd been secretly expecting this to happen, for ages. Not this specifically, but something like this. Some dark dreadful inescapable disaster. Some certain unspeakable doom, just for her. Most of her life, especially as a child and then as a teenager, Dyon Kruger had felt a great sense of guilt about her birthright—the wealth and privilege of her so-called noble family, and the sheer unrepentant entitlement and snobbery they represented. For she knew the harsh deeds that had brought them to their position. It is no small or easy thing to take a world and reshape it in the idealized image of another, which in truth was long spoiled and lost to humanity. In the depths of her soul, Dyon always suspected a price would eventually have to be paid, in reckoning for her forbearers' legacy. It was a large part of why she left that world altogether, striking out alone and penniless to create a whole new life for herself in another solar system. But the reckoning would still have to be paid. Perhaps now was the time. Perhaps Shavi was only its unknowing instrument. Or did she just tell herself these things to excuse herself for surrendering? Providing herself a partly-comforting justification in the form of implacable destiny, beyond her power to control. "I can't believe I'm letting this happen. I just caAAHHuuhhnnnnn! Nuuhhnn. Nuuhhuuhhnn." 

Despite what Shavi just said, Rojjo had already gone around the desk, grabbed hold of her upturned ankles, and jammed himself inside of her. He stuck himself in her ass, not her pussy. There was pleasure in the penetration, somehow, unwelcome as it was. There was also pain, and more than a little—but it was the kind that enhanced the pleasure instead of spoiling it. And the instant she was made to cry out, Shavi inserted his cock into her mouth. Far as he could push it. She didn't bite him, much as she wanted to. He held her head by her braid. 

"You're the captain. It was your call to make, babe, and you made it. Ah yes. Yes you did. Yes. Ahhahh. Ahh. Suck it, Cap. Suck my cock harder."

"Uhn. Uhhhmm. Uhn. Uhn. Uhhuuhh! Uhhuuhhnn."

"Yes. Yes. Oh so good. Yes." 

4. 

She's on the bridge in her captain's chair. Naked. As always. Trying to tell herself it isn't bothering her anymore. She should be used to it by now. It's been four whole days.

It's easier when they give her drugs. They've been letting her take some of the stuff they use themselves. A purple powder called Flow. Her last hit's wearing off, it's been several hours. She's starting to think almost clearly again. That's not good. If she took some more Flow, she really could sit here perfectly calm and relaxed, like nothing at all was the matter. No humiliation or anger or fear, only a peaceful humming in her head and all through her body. Actually while she was high on Flow, she almost enjoyed her nakedness. You could almost enjoy anything, while you're on Flow. Just breathing became a sensual and fascinating experience.

She remembered back when she used to wish she could get away with wearing shorts and a tanktop and sneakers on the bridge, knowing as the captain she couldn't. It would undermine her position. Stiff scratchy uniforms were a necessary evil. You had to project the appearance of cool taciturn authority, all the time.

Ha. 

They went overboard with the climate adjustment. The atmosphere was like a jungle all the time. She's always sweating buckets now. She's ruined the leather upholstery of her chair—the sweat of her asscheeks made the rich chocolate-colored leather fade to sickly yellow and start to rip in a couple spots. Semen had contributed too. There was always semen leaking out of one of her orifices, felt like. They got regularly refilled. She'll have to get a new chair, when this is finally all over. You'd think the other crewmembers would bitch about the heat. If they have, they don't do it to her. What would be the point?

Is she addicted to Flow yet? Probably. If she's not she's pretty close. They told her the stuff wouldn't hook you but they were junkies themselves. They snorted it up their nose. She never took it that way. They'd sprinkle it on their cocks before they pushed them into her or made her suck them. It made what they did to her tolerable, anyway. 

The pilot, Travar, almost never looks around at her from the control board. And the few times she does, the girl can't do it without smirking and blushing. Kruger can't believe she agreed to go along with the others. She would have thought she'd try to help her somehow. Make some kind of protest, at the very least. Kruger always thought Travar had great respect for her. Now she's lost it, if she ever had any. Maybe she thinks Kruger deserves what's happened to her, since she gave in to the blackmail. Or maybe she's always secretly resented the Captain for her looks and her nobility, so seeing her brought low is pleasurable for her. 

The other guy always on the bridge, Gorzon, is nonhuman, a hulking shaggy species called the Dogged. They're not really very doglike, despite the name. They never wear clothes themselves. He keeps pretending like he hasn't noticed anything amiss is going on, or doesn't understand the implications if he has—and just possibly that's true. He frequently sports a boner when she's around, and its gigantic—sticking up through his belly hair, blood-red and glistening. But that used to happen before, just not as often. It's something you learn to put up with when you have a Dogged on your crew. They all do that; they don't mean anything untoward by it. It does appear more frequently since her enforced exhibitionism began, and it looks bigger than it used to, but that might be her imagination, and if it's not, it's understandable. Even complimentary. He won't try anything unless she asks him to. 

She's been tempted, to be honest. At this point, there's a voice in her head that keeps whispering, "Why not? You're gonna get fucked again anyway several times today. He'd probably be a lot more fun than the other bastards always are. You might get a proper orgasm out of it for a goddamn change."

Actually Captain Kruger has had many orgasms, the last four days and the nights in between. It's disturbing how many orgasms she's had, and how quickly they can make her have them. She doesn't count any of them because of the Flow. She gives all the credit to the powder, none to the men. She imagines she would have another orgasm if she just snorted the stuff, the same as they did it.

And there's another aspect to the idea that she's toying with ... If she gives herself to Gorzon, maybe she can get him to help her. He's big and he's tough. Could probably tear Shavi and Rojjo limb from limb without it boosting his heartrate. Of course killing the guys isn't her real problem. She could kill them both herself; probably wouldn't take her more than a couple seconds, even in the rough mental shape they've lowered her to. She wouldn't need to worry about a weapon. In fact just about every time she's letting one or the other of them fuck her again, she thinks about this—about how easy it would be to throw her sleek muscular legs up around their heads and snap their necks. It's a delightful fantasy—often, in fact, she comes while she's imagining it. The trick would be to do it fast enough. To get both of them down for the count before their goddamn recording got broadcast ... especially in light of the fact they don't often doubleteam her anymore, like that first night. They usually take turns instead, one keeping his distance while the other has his fun. A wise precaution, the shitheels; it's kept her on her best behavior all this time. A tame little sexpet. 

What she needs to get Gorzon to do is set up a jamming field of some sort around the ship without the fuckers realizing. Then she could go to work without having to worry. Only she's not sure it's the kind of thing a chap like Gorzon is bright enough to know how to set up. Or that she can trust him not to give her away, if she suggests the idea to him. Maybe she can or maybe she can't. Probably she can't. If he didn't stick up for her at the very beginning, why would he change his mind now? Unless she can win him over with some real good sex. That might work or it might not do her any good at all. 

There's a ping from the control board. It startles her out of her reverie—and she jerks her finger away from her clit. She hadn't realized she'd been rubbing it, the last few minutes. Isn't the first time she's caught herself doing it when she blanks out. There's goo on her finger. She wipes it dry quickly on her armrest and straightens up, pressing her knees together. 

"It's Shavi calling," Travar says, and Dyon's belly lurches, "Says you're needed in the engine room, Captain. Right away. Again." 

"All right," she says, not acknowledging the sarcasm. She gets up—her sweaty bare butt wrenching free from the sticky soiled leather with a humiliating noise like a fart—and goes out the hatch. Swaying and stumbling a little. Her clit is throbbing and every step aggravates it more. As the bridge seals behind her, she hears Travar chuckle. The heartless bitch. 

God, her feet hurt. Most of the flooring throughout the ship is mesh paneling, allowing easy access to the pipes and cables that run beneath the walkways. They're murder to walk on barefoot. She's stubbed her toes in the goddamn gaps like a million times. Even when she doesn't, they still make her feet sore. The mesh gets printed across her heels and the balls of her feet. She begged Shavi to let her wear her boots, or at least some socks. He wasn't having it. He's too obsessed with her bare feet—he's fucked them and cummed on them just about as many times as her pussy and her ass and her mouth—and he loves tormenting her too much. She just has to put up with it. Anything the fucker wants, she has to give him. 

They all pretend like she's still the captain—really it's a sick horrible joke. She's an absolute pathetic slave. Or a whore, more like. Shamefully whoring herself, in the vague desperate hope it will save her from a greater and more permanent shame, across the entirety of Living Space. Will he stick to his end of the bargain, at the conclusion of the tour? No way to know. If he doesn't—if the recording gets released in spite of everything—she'll probably kill herself. But she'll make sure she murders him first, and his so-called brother. Maybe the rest of the damn crew, on top of them. 

Somebody crosses the corridor ahead of her ... It's the last member of the crew, the medic. Vara. She doesn't stop or say anything—just gives her so-called captain a quick sideways glance, before passing out of sight down the side passage, her boots stomping loud as she goes. Her expression was furious. No surprise; it's been like that since the start of the madness. It's like she wants to punch the captain in the face, whenever they cross paths, or maybe take it even further and strangle the life out of her. Vara clearly blames her for this situation. The medic doesn't sneer or giggle at her like Travar keeps doing, but she's shown no compassion either, not a shred, not for an instant. Kruger honestly can't decide which attitude is tougher to put up with, Travar's or Vara's. They both sure pack quite a wallop. 

She goes through the hatch at the far end of the corridor to the engine room. There's an observation platform, when you first walk in, a little balcony that lets you look over the whole heart of the ship at once. Then you gotta climb down ladders to the open workspace, underneath, when you need to pull out parts from inside the engine to repair them or replace them. They call it the pit, though it's not really a pit. Just a square of open floor facing the engine, with a lot of scuffs and stains. 

And the Outrage is standing down there, looking at her. Flexing its arms and huffing steam out its nostrils. They'd patched its bullhead back together. 

Shavi pops up behind her, at her shoulder. He must have been crouching against the doorframe, to surprise her. 

"Look what we got for you, Madame Captain. Look how pleased he is to see you again." 

"Oh God." Her legs shook so bad, her knees literally knocked together. She thought that was just a stupid expression. She had to clutch the balcony rail with both hands to keep on her feet. Her toes dug into the spaces of the mesh, squeezing to grip the floor. "You brought that thing aboard? I had no idea."

"Of course we did. Don't be daft. We fixed it up too. That's a rare and valuable machine, Cap. Those things are worth a fortune! We're still working on the other guy, with the lion head. He's not ready yet for testing."

"Don't. Don't do this. Not this. Not to me. Not again. Give Travar to it!" 

"That's not a bad idea. I'll keep that in mind for later, for the lion. But right now Mr. Horny—that's what me and Rojjo call him, cause of the horns, you get? Mr. Horny wants you, babe. Just you. You're way better looking than Travar, you know. She's cute, all right, but not a gorgeous perfect goddess of Avonlea like you are. They should make paintings and statues of you, seriously. One day I bet they will. And hey, what are you scared of? You'll be fine. You'll love it. Just like before."

"I'll do anything else. Whatever you want. You can fuck me again, right now." She bent over the railing and spread her legs wide as she could and shook her ass at him, on her tiptoes. "Shove it right up my butt! Put some Flow on your cock first, I need another hit. Then pound it in your captain's pretty ass and make her scream your name. I know how much you love making me do that. So make me, Shavi! SHAVI!" 

But he held back. He fondled his crotch a bit, then shook his head at her, looking almost sad. "Nice try, Cap. But no. Not just now." 

She started to cry. "Please don't give me to that ghastly thing. Please. Please! I'm begging you! I can't stand it! Not again!" 

"Sure you can, Cap. You'll be fine. And I'm right up here with my blaster to pull you out if anything goes wrong again and it starts getting out of hand. Just relax!" 

"Please no! No! God no! Please! Can I have another hit first? At least let me have a fresh hit!"

"Is that an order, Madame Captain?"

"Yes! That's an order! I order you to administer me another dose immediately!"




Salvage



"All right, just a tiny one." He took a vial from his pocket, and poured out a dab on the tip of his forefinger. This would be the first time he didn't use his cock to put it in her. She was actually disappointed, she realized. Just 'cause it would have been a bigger dose, if he did it the regular way. Yeah, that must be why. "Ass or puss, Cap? Where shall it go?"

"Whichever." 

"No, choose. You choose. Tell me." 

"Pussy then." 

"What? I didn't hear you."

"Pussy, I said. Pussy! Put in my pussy! Please! I need it!"

"Are you some kind of slut, Captain? You sound like such a depraved wanton slut. Wouldn't all your highminded people far away on Avonlea be totally ashamed of you, if they saw you acting like this?"

"Yes. I don't care anymore. I'm a slut. I'm your slut, Shavi. I'm a Flow junkie too. You did this to me. You turned me into this. You've ruined me. Put it in my pussy! Please. Pleeeze!" 

"Bend over the rail more. Put your ass up high as you can, and stretch that pretty Avonlean pussy open for me. Is it wet? I bet it is. Show me!" 

"It is! Look! Look! Ahhahhh the juices are leaking out and it's burning inside ... Auuhhuuuh!" 

He reached down slowly, so slowly ... She moaned with anticipation, bouncing on her aching toes, hooked into the mesh of the balcony platform. "Shaaaavi! Ohhhoohh Shavi!" Then at last with a quick flick of his finger, he brushed the powder along her dripping crease. That was all it took.

"AAAHHUUHHHAAAHHHUUUHHuuhhhrruhh ..."

She would have collapsed to her knees, except Shavi, laughing, grabbed her around her waist as she slumped, and then he flipped her right over the rail with one mighty heave. She tried to keep hold of the railing, but of course failed—her hands were too sweaty, or she plain wasn't strong enough. She plummeted, the pitch of her scream jolting to a higher key. 

She might have busted her neck, if she'd hit the floor of the pit from that height ...

She didn't. The Outrage caught her safe in its four arms—not safe at all, of course—and swiveled her around into position for fucking. Never let her feet touch the floor. It was going to have her the same way as last time. Drilling her from behind, as he held her spread-eagle at a slant, by her wrists and by her hips. Both cocks at once, pussy and ass together. Just as before, he started working them both in slow and careful, inch by inch. No need to rush. 

"Oh! Oh shit! Shit! Shit! Oh oohoohhhuuhhh OH! OH! OH!" 

When she looked up at Shavi, he was pointing his hand scanner at them. She should have expected that too.

At least she would get to orgasm again. Soon. Very soon. And many, many times, no doubt. And each one would be more intense than the last time, while she was high on the Flow. 

She might not recover from this. She might lose her sanity for good, like in the legends. The idea didn't worry her.



Salvaging A Bad Date



Jesus, what a let down. I'd met her about two days ago. I was having lunch with a buddy of mine in midtown. We were having our usual after lunch drinks and by the third martini a stunning blonde walked in with a friend. They sat a few seats away at the bar.

"Shit, she's looking at you," said Itai. "Say something."

I glanced down the bar and sure enough this little blonde number with an adorable face framed with a cute little bob smiled at me. Itai, always the pal, did the right thing and started things off by falling on the grenade. He occupied the friend with casual banter making the object of my attention available for me to chat with. Two martinis later I had a phone number and a day after that a date scheduled.

My adulation lasted about twenty-four hours. We went for dinner and she couldn't have been more of a bore. The thing that intrigued me about her most was the fact that she was the only person I've ever met that thinks of office management as a worthwhile career choice. Oh well, I guess I was in for the long haul. Hopefully I could just get out of this with a quick drink and curt "See ya when I see ya."

The cab ride to 5th street consisted mainly of her expressing her distaste for my CD collection. Considering my tastes range from Weezer to Prokofiev I found this a bit disturbing. By the time we got to the bar I found myself wishing she had forgotten her ID so I could just walk her home and be done with it. But having no such luck we moved past the bouncer and got some seats at the bar.

The benefit of going to the same bar more than twice is that a good bartender begins to get an idea of how strong you need your drink mixed when he sees you. This was a good bartender and a very large Smirnoff martini was prepared for me soon after I sat down. My "date" ordered, of all things, a Midori sour and began to tell me all about what it takes to organize an office of twenty or so clerical workers. When she ordered another my hopes of a quick demise for this mortally wounded affair were dashed. The best thing about the situation was that my date apparently left her party bladder at home and needed to excuse herself to the bathroom halfway through her second drink.

I was giving serious thought to paying the tab and ditching to Itai's place when I heard over my shoulder "I give you credit."

I turned to see a reason to stay. She was about a head shorter than me with a smile that cut through the pall of cigarette smoke like a laser. Her thick, straight black hair was pulled back loosely into a ponytail. The way her calf length red dress draped off her shoulders added to the air of calm comfort about her. "I'd never be able to sit through that shit."

I chuckled. It was the first time I'd smiled in the last four hours with succubus in the bathroom. She looked to her right end then winked at me before taking a seat a few stools away at the bar. My date had emerged from the women's room and was heading back my way.

My night was looking much brighter. I kept pumping sugary drinks down my date's throat encouraging her frequent trips to the can. The more she drank the more often she excused herself and the more opportunities I had to continue the wildly engrossing conversation I was having with the radiant woman four feet to my right. Topics ranged from music to movies to books to drug culture, everything. Punctuation came in the form of a sloppy drunk blonde culture sink as she staggered back and forth between the women's room and the stool on my left. Two bathroom trips in she introduced herself as Millie.

During my date's fifth trip to the bathroom I looked at Miss Right and suggested we find another watering hole. "What, and just leave the poor thing here to fend for herself?" she asked with a grin. "How is she going to get home in that state? Is chivalry dead?" She had a point. Besides, it was way too much fun continuing to get to know her in this intermittent fashion. Something about having to be slick about it had so much appeal.

My date returned and ordered another Midori sour. Half way through it she looked a little unsteady and excused herself to the ladies room yet again. Millie watched her go. "She doesn't look like she holds her booze too well."

"I think you're right," I replied. "You think she's okay?"

Millie looked back at me with a look that said "Who the fuck cares." The grin on her face said nothing but mischief as she said "Well, we can always go and check." I was way to curious to say no.

We headed back to the restrooms and Millie peeked into the ladies room before pulling me in behind her. I could see my date's heavy soled Mary Janes in the first stall. Millie leaned in and whispered "It's pretty quiet, she must be fine. Maybe we ought stick around just in case," as she slid her hand around behind my neck and pulled my lips to hers. Her teeth bit lightly into my lower lip as she opened her big brown eyes and looked into mine. "I mean, you never know, she could be passed out in there." We heard the toilet flush and dashed out the door giggling.

Back at the bar it was all I could do to keep from laughing out loud as my date returned and informed me about the couple that came into the bathroom while she was in there. "I think they were going to do it," she slurred into my ear with a drunken grin. "I must have scared them off when I got up to leave. Can you believe it? They were gonna do it right there in the bathroom!"

"Oh?" Said I, "And what makes you think that?" I turned back to my drink and saw Millie holding back a chuckle.

"I heard them whispering and then I heard them kissing." They way she spoke when she was drunk made me feel like a pedophile for being on a date with her. Luckily she seemed to be switching to water, which would have the same effect on her bladder but reduce the chances of anything truly unsavory happening. Soon enough she was headed back towards the bathroom.

Millie grabbed my hand as soon as my date had passed her and pulled me back towards the ladies room again. Again she peeked through the door before ushering me in. This time she went straight to the open stall next to my dates. Once inside she pulled me in against her and shut the door. Our lips met quickly and she guided my hand up over her breast. My free hand reached up behind her head and grabbed her ponytail as our tongues twisted. Her hands fumbled with my fly as my fingers tugged her dress down as I massaged her breast until her nipple popped free.

Millie moaned as I rolled her nipple between my fingertips. My date giggled in the next stall. Millie glanced quickly towards the divider before smiling at me. Knowing my date was listening turned her on. Her hand had now fully worked its way into my jeans and was stroking my cock. My knees buckled as she leaned forward and whispered "Fuck me while she listens."

I spun her around as she hiked her dress up to expose her tight round ass. Bent over the toilet she reached back through her thighs and grabbed my shaft to guide into her. I ran my fingers along her wet crotch before peeling her panties aside to reveal the soaking pink folds she was pulling me towards. I yanked on the ponytail wrapped around my fist as I sank into her, pulling her harder against me. 

The situation of being in the otherwise occupied ladies room of a crowded Lower East Side bar eliminated all possibility of delicacy. Our goal at this point was strictly to fuck. I grunted as I thrusted into her. Millie yelped as her hips ground against mine. My date gasped in the next stall as she followed along with our every stroke.

The cold air against my slick member jolted me very quickly back to reality. I could hear the toilet in the next stall flushing as I watched Millie spin around. Her face was flushed and painted with satisfaction as she raised a finger admonishing me not to speak. "Wait 'til she leaves," she mouthed before hustling quickly out of the stall and back into the bar. I took a moment to catch my breath and attempt to regain composure before stuffing my gear back into my pants. When I heard my date leave the bathroom I counted to 20 and walk as casually as I could considering the girl I was just buried in to the hilt pulled off and walked back to her seat.

Here's something for everyone at home to try. Go to your local bar on a date and meet someone there. If you have to arrange for that special someone else ahead of time, by all means do so. When your date goes to the restroom, follow her in with your someone else and have sex in the next stall. Now for the hard part: stop before you're done and try not to give it all away as you walk past your someone else on the way back to your seat. I deserved an award for that performance.

"I told you so!" flaunted my date when I returned.

"What are you talking about?" asked I.

"The couple that came into the bathroom last time?" She paused and waited for me to nod acknowledgement. "Well they came in again, and this time they were doin' it!" She emphasized the last bit as if she had just proven the existence of God.

"Did you watch?" I teased.

"That's gross!" she protested before switching back to Midori sours.

Soon enough our little pigeon was on her way back to the ladies room. I got up and followed Millie back without waiting for her prompting this time. We marched straight in guns blazing and into our stall. She turned around and reached for my pants but I had other plans, I didn't really feel like being interrupted again. I kept my momentum moving forward and lifted her up and back against the wall. My hands went to her breasts as I dropped to me knees. She hiked her skirt up again and I was face to face with her neatly trimmed black bush. I was stunned for a second that she found the opportunity to remove her panties in between our visits to the restroom.

My astonishment was quickly overridden by the slow cooked lust that was now on the table. I could see rivulets of moisture glistening on Millie's thighs as her scent hit my nose. I buried my face into her and burrowed my tongue as far into her sex as it would reach. She gasped and dug her fingernails into my scalp. Her reaction and the five or six vodka martinis in my system made me feel giddy and playfully menacing. I reached one hand around and gently squeezed her ass as the other crept up to her crotch. I withdrew my tongue and used it to lick lazy circles around her labia as my thumb prodded into her clit. I began to nip gently at her folds with my lips extracting a quick yelp every time flesh met flesh.

"Holy shit, that's really fucking nice," Millie gasped as she plateaued. I overcame my natural urge to drag things out as I realized once again that, unfortunately we were under the constraint of time. My mouth slid up to pull her clit between my lips as my thumb slipped into her tight canal. A low moan escaped her as her thighs tensed around my temples with her building orgasm. Her fingernails scraped violently over my scalp in time with the low moan she let out as her climax washed over her in earnest.

Now coming down from her orgasm her hands reached down under my chin and began to pull me up the along the long trek between her slim hips. My hands slid across her soft skin pulling her dress up over her breasts as I rose. "You know, if you weren't such a droll little shit," hearing this caused me to pause as I was kissing the tender spot between her breasts. I looked quizzically towards her face and saw her looking up. I turned my face in time to hear her finish as her supple hands once again extracted my cock from my jeans. "You would have just gotten some world class head."

I followed her eyes and saw the flushed red face of my date peering over the divider watching us. The cat now out of the bag I winked at my date as I continued to slowly stand. My date faded out of view as my eyes closed when member, once again under the guidance of Millie's soft hands, met her snatch and slipped between it's soaked folds. I bit my lip and opened my eyes. I saw my date trembling with anger as I began to thrust slowly into Millie who was presses beneath me against the cool tile wall. I smiled at her and she curtly turned away and disappeared.

I turned back to Millie when she left. She threw her head back and laughed as she crossed her arms around behind my neck. When she stopped she lowered her gaze back to mine before leaning forward to run her tongue up my cheek. "All the time in the world now sailor, do your thing." My arm reached around behind her back and held her tight against me as we thrusted together in the last stall of the ACE Bar ladies room. The thick soft hair pulled together into a loose ponytail fell to the middle of her back with her head tilted back. I grabbed it and coiled it around my fist giving light tugs, pulling her further down, and driving her further down onto my shaft.

She was amazing. Her tight, wet pussy pulsed rhythmically as we fucked. Her hands curled over my head as she leaned forward to kiss my ear. Her lips pulled away and she moaned long and low as the pulsing of her sex became more erratic and forceful. My hips pumped harder as she wrapped her leg around my waist and came loudly. She began to shiver as I continued to thrust into her now overly sensitive sex.

She kissed me deeply before pushing me back against the door of the stall forcing me out of her once again. Seeing the look of dismay on my face from being forced out of her a second time she took it upon herself to soothe me. "Hey, we just met, I can't have you cumming inside me. Well, not in my pussy anyway. Don't worry," she continued as she slowly sank to sit on the toilet, "you've got yours coming."

With that she leaned forward and kissed my pulsing cock before running her tongue up the length. Sensing my imminent orgasm her lips parted and she took my length effortlessly into her throat and began to swallow. I had been on the brink with the thrill of the whole experience and came immediately. She continued to swallow until my orgasm began to wane. She then leaned back and with just the head of my cock in her mouth stroked the length of my shaft, squeezing me dry.

My head thudded back against the steel door. When my eyes refocused she was calmly sitting in front of me reapplying her lipstick. When she was done she wrote her name and number on my abdomen with her lipstick before leaving yet another mark by kissing my navel with her freshly painted lips. "Just make sure you remember to call me. We'll go get dinner sometime."



Salvation



Prologue

I've wandered across a couple of those erotic story sites in looking my daily portion of spam. After a while my curiosity got the better of me and I checked a couple out. Due to my own experience, I was curious to see how, or if, they dealt with incest. Yup! They sure did, every possible coupling between any pair or group of relatives conceivable, heavy on dad-daughter and mom-son.

I checked out several of the mom-son stories. They were all pretty much the same; well-preserved mom alone due to divorce, widowhood, or abandonment, devoted (and horny) young son who for whatever reason isn't getting any elsewhere. Very predictable. But as our Postal Service is fond of saying, "If it sounds too good to be true, it probably is." Not that I am everyman, but my experience was much different.

To begin with, I had a pretty satisfying life going. I was in what amounted to an internal affairs shop of a large nationwide financial and securities firm. I was on the road too much to make any lasting romantic entanglements. However, as a "spook", it was no trouble to learn who was the office easy at the various branches I visited, so my horns were always close cropped.

Mom, on the other hand, wasn't so lucky. Dad had suffered a stroke many years back. Fortunately it had been in the day that many companies still provided decent health insurance and Dad's company had been one of the best in that regard. Over the years, though, his ever-deteriorating condition had turned Mom into a full-time nurse. Dad had passed about a year ago. I had used all the vacation time I could beg or borrow to stay with her and make sure Dad's affairs were properly taken care of.

I could see, even then, that the years of selfless caregiving had taken their toll. Although she grieved at Dad's death, she seemed physically relieved by her burden being lifted. We had agreed that she was strong enough to carry on by herself and that I should not jeopardize my job. I went back to work, but made a point of having a long phone chat with her every week.

During the past month, however, something in those conversations told me things weren't quite right. I couldn't put my finger on it, but I decided to take the little vacation time I had built up to go see how she was doing. I was somewhat surprised that she didn't seem particularly happy when I told her I was coming to visit.

Arrival

After a fun-filled day of security screenings and airline snacks I arrived home in the early evening. I was surprised that Mom didn't respond to my ringing the doorbell or knocking. Luckily I still had my house key, so I let myself in. Even in the dim light from the foyer windows, I knew that things were bad. Junk mail and magazines were scattered here and there. Mom's almost threadbare overcoat lay crumpled at the foot of the clothes tree as if she had tried to hang it up, missed, and didn't care. I retrieved it and hung it up properly. Mom hade never been exactly a neat freak but she wouldn't have tolerated something like this when I was a kid.

I saw a light from the kitchen and called out a hello. Mom's flat voice answered something from the kitchen. I quickly hung my own coat and went there. 

Standing in the kitchen doorway I was aghast at the wreck of the woman who was my mother sitting there before me. Mom had never been pretty but when I was a child she'd known how to groom herself to be reasonably attractive. Even in the last strained days of caring for Dad she'd managed to keep herself presentable.

She had dyed her hair some color nature had never intended, and her face was over made up with too much of the wrong shade of everything. Her frayed robe was stained and hung open in an unattractive, though fortunately not revealing, way. The ashtray in front of her was overflowing and a tumbler with a little of what was probably bourbon sat next to it.

"Oh, my God!" It probably wasn't what I should have said, but I couldn't suppress it. I could feel the tears coming.

"Hello to you, too," she rasped in a voice scarred by too much tobacco and bourbon. "I'd get up and hug you, but I'm a teensy bit squiffed," she continued in slurred speech.

I chastised myself for being glad she hadn't. It is hard to acknowledge that your own mother is a complete mess, but there it was. People usually say, pro forma, that they love their mother. This was a Hell of a way to find out whether it was true or not. I fought back the revulsion (and the last of the airline snacks that had risen to my throat) and went over to her.

"C'mon, Mom," I said, rather more forcefully than I intended. "Let's get you upstairs and to bed."

"Whatever." A voice beyond caring. A voice of total defeat. I suspect I could have suggested she lie in front of a speeding truck and gotten the same response.

As I held her to get her up the stairs, I noticed her body seemed to have lost all resiliency, just tired flesh hanging on bones. Finally I maneuvered her into the bathroom and sat her on the closed commode.

"Shouldn't pee while my robe's on," she sort of giggled.

"No, you shouldn't," I said, starting to draw her bath water. "I'll be out of here in a second and you can take care of that."

Making sure that the tub wouldn't fill too fast, I left the bathroom. I wanted to get out of earshot, but knew I'd better not. It's not fun listening to your mother urinate (unless you're really kinky, I suppose). Fortunately, I guess that was all she had to do, because I heard the toilet flush. Then nothing. No sound of her turning off the bath water or moving around taking off her robe and whatever might be under it. Nothing. I knocked lightly at the door.

"Who...who's there?" Mom slurred.

"Just me. You okay?"

"Oh, hi. I wanted to meet you when you got here, but I had to pee." For the first time, there was something like liveliness in her voice.

Without invitation, I reentered the bathroom. She was standing by the sink, looking confused. At least she'd managed to get her robe on more or less correctly. I turned the taps on the tub, as the water was now at the right temperature and depth. I saw a can of some sort of women's bath stuff and sprinkled some into the water. "All ready, Mom," I said, trying to feign cheerfulness.

"It's so good to see you!" She lurched forward as if to embrace me. I braced myself for the reak of bourbon and body odor, and let her come into my arms.

Her body seemed weak against me with no real vitality. I tried to hug her as gently as possible. The "it's good to see you, too" bit stuck in my throat. The tears were really flowing now.

"I guess I must have been planning to take a bath, get cleaned up for my son's homecoming," she said uncertainly.

"Looks like it, Mom. I'll just step outside..."

"Oh, you don't need to go so soon, do you?"

"I'll be right outside, I promise. I won't go anywhere."

"You're such a good boy."

I quickly left the bathroom and closed the door. I found my handkerchief and wiped my eyes. Silence. Still no hint of activity behind the bathroom door. I gingerly opened it. Mom was standing there as before, arms hanging loosely at her sides. I didn't want to do what I now knew I would have to do. The airline snacks were on the rise again. I willed them back down as I stepped over to Mom.

"What are you doing?" she asked matter-of-factly as I untied her robe.

"Helping you get ready for your bath."

"Oh, yes. I forgot to take one before you got here," she continued in a flat voice. "I don't have anything on underneath, though."

Part of me was relieved, as there would be no more clothing to struggle with. The truth of the matter was that I'd just be seeing what I had no earthly desire to see that much sooner.

I moved behind her and slipped the robe off of her, to be confronted by a view of her back, ravaged by age and perhaps other factors. I noticed a few fresh bruises that weren't where one would normally get them by running into something. But now was not the time to ask about them.

Staying behind her, I talked her into getting into the tub and seating herself. I sorely wanted to leave the bathroom again, but common sense told me that wasn't a good plan. I just stood there quietly.

"Where are you? "

"I'm right here, Mom, by the door."

"Well, come around here where I can see you. Go sit on the commode till I'm done here."

I willed myself to comply, keeping my eyes riveted to the floor.

"Look at your mother. I want to see your face."

"You're my mother, sitting in a bathtub with no clothes on."

"I'm an old woman and you're an adult. It'll be okay."

I looked up and concentrated on her poor, ruined face. Somewhere behind that face and the near stupor she was still my mother. I did truly love her. I knew that now and it was tearing my guts out.

"I just can't seem to muster any energy. Must be the nice hot water," she said. "Do you think you could help me wash up?"

I'd been dreading the fact that I might have to do that, and had more or less steeled myself to do it. I moved over to the tub.

"Please hand me that jar over the sink," she asked. It turned out to be some sort of makeup remover/skin conditioner concoction. I opened it for her and she managed to get her makeup off. It certainly did nothing miraculous for her looks, except that now she looked like my mom and not some over-age tramp. With a silent prayer of thanks I closed the jar and returned it to the shelf over the sink.

Unexpectedly my mother rose to a somewhat shaky standing position. "Can you do my back," she asked, thankfully turning around before I could fully comprehend what I was seeing.

I managed to find the washcloth and some scented bath soap and went to work. Her shoulders were slack as if locked into permanent dejection, There was no pleasure in touching her lifeless skin, the flesh underneath seemingly almost gone. 

I did her shoulder blades and ribcage then worked down to the small of her back. Finally, I worked up the courage to move on to her flaccid buttocks. Though not analogous, Shakespeare's sonnet about bare, ruined choirs kept running through my mind. She started slightly as I moved the washcloth between her buttocks and toughed her anus. I jerked the cloth away and began rinsing it vigorously.

"Well?" she said, still in that flat, almost lifeless voice.

"Yes, Mom?"

"I'm getting cold." She illustrated with a slight shiver. I was hoping you'd finish washing me."

Surrealer and surrealer, to badly paraphrase Louis Carroll. In order to defer the inevitable I kept her back to me while I slowly washed one arm and then the other. She continued to shiver slightly. 

"I'll hurry, Mom," I said, turning her sideways to me. I kept my eyes averted as I started washing at her shoulders. I willed my hands not to sense anything through the washcloth, but they had fallen and they were pendulous. Trying to think of something, anything, else I carefully avoided spending an instant too long on her nipples, washed under them and took the cloth down to her stomach. Wanting to get this whole unpleasantness over as quickly as possible, I rinsed the rag again and continued downward from there.

I'd never washed a woman's vulva before so I knew that I would have to look at it to wash it properly. I'd have sooner plucked my eyes out, except that that seemed like it would be quite painful. Sick humor at best. I won another battle with the airline snacks and gently urged her to spread her legs. There was no resistance and I was now staring at the entrance to the tunnel where my dad had put his penis to create what became me, the tunnel through which my mother's body, despite her pain, had forced me to bring me into this world. I washed it as gently as I could, spending as little time as I could around the clitoris. I made a point of not noticing if it were swollen or indicated any excitement. I paid as much attention to the folds of the lips as I felt necessary. Then, with an exhale of relief, I began to work down one of her thighs.

After quickly finishing her legs, I assisted her back to a sitting position in the tub. I knew I would have to dry her when she was ready to get out, but that would not be quite as difficult.

Thankfully there was a clean nightgown in her dresser when I managed to get Mom back there. I somehow got it on her and got her into bed. Whether she fell asleep instantly, or just passed outfrom the booze, I don't know.

I turned out the light but left the door ajar and the hallway light on then headed back downstairs. I found Mom's jug and a glass. I poured a stiff one to congratulate myself on my self control. It was then that I realized I had a raging erection. In my shame I spent a couple of hours scrubbing and tidying up Mom's kitchen and picking up the mess in the foyer.

It was late, so I went upstairs, strongly hoping that the guestroom bed was made up. I decided to look in on Mom first. I opened the door. Light from the hallway would be sufficient, so I didn't turn on any lights. This was the scene where I was supposed to be aroused by Mom's provocatively rounded rump, shapely legs, or huge breasts which heaved as she breathed. Unfortunately Mom no longer had, or never had had, any of these features.

She was lying with her back to me, one leg partially, but not provocatively out from under the covers. I moved to gently spread the sheet back into place. Suddenly Mom rolled back toward me. Grabbing my wrist, she said "Danny, we've got to talk!"

"We can talk in the morning, Mom. You need your rest."

"No, my son. It's got to be now, while I've still got the courage."

I knew I wasn't ready for this. Maybe I'd never be ready. But I caved to the urgency and pleading in her voice. "Okay, Mom. We can talk now." I sat down at the foot of her bed.

"Danny, I'm a slut!" Her voice quaivered as she said the words. "I'm sorry there was no way to prepare you for this or sugar coat it. I'm a slut, pure and simple. Always was. Always will be, it seems."

"What do you mean, Mom? You never..." I interjected.

"I was always wild, even as a kid. I used it to cover my nymphomania. While I was still at home, my love for my parents kept me mostly in check. Everyone figured I was just a tomboy who'd grow out of it. In college, though, I couldn't keep it under control any longer. I just let go. My name and number were on the wall of every men's dorm latrine and frat house who's easy list." She paused. I wanted to tell her to stop, but I knew she wanted to, needed to, get it out of her system.

"I managed to flunk out, of course, and went off to hit the streets of the big city. I turned a few tricks here and there to make ends meet when I wasn't some low life's live-in girl friend. I was within half a heartbeat of becoming a full-fledged whore. My parents found me and begged me to come home, but I refused. It killed my father and left my mother devastated."

"Your father met me while he was in the medical school up there. He and a bunch of his med school buddies where looking for stress relief in the shady side of town. Something happened that wasn't supposed to. We fell in love." Mom paused, perhaps enjoying a pleasant memory of young love. I couldn't think of anything suitable to say.

"We wanted to marry, so he dropped out of med school. Luckily, he found a good job. He was quite a man, in every way. He loved me and managed, somehow, to keep me sexually satisfied. After his stroke, the need to care for him sort of suppressed my sexual desires. But after he died, it was just like being away from my parents' love in college. I eventually hit the streets again. Only this time I was no longer a frisky, almost cute twenty-year-old. I was a fifty-going-on-eighty hag. All the makeup and hair dye in the world couldn't make me attractive to any but the bottom-of-the-barrel scumbags looking for a quicky. I caged a few drinks, gave a few hand jobs and blow jobs, but somehow, out of memory for your dad, I never let anyone screw me."

Oh, yeah! I was shocked all right. Even appalled. But somehow her unapologetic honesty touched me. I knew then that I would have to care for my mother. It woulod be what my dad would have wanted me to do.

"Son, I'm very proud of you. You've always been wonderful to me. I think it's time for you to leave now."

"No way, Mom! There's no way I can leave you at the time you need me most. I love you too much!"

Even in the dim light from the hallway, I could see the tear welling in her eyes.

I swallowed hard! Point of no return! "Okay, if you are such a slut, how would you screw a guy?" 

A smile, the first real one I'd seen since coming home, started to cross her lips. Suddenly there was real life in those eyes again. "Well, since I'm not a spring chicken any more I'd have to kind of get him a little riled up first." Real excitement was coming into her voice. "I'd pull him over here and..."

Before I knew it my mother had dropped my trousers and shorts and was massaging my cock to full erection with one hand while cradling my balls in her other. "You're as well endowed as your father. I hope the resemblance doesn't stop there!"

"Whoa, Mom! I don't know about Dad, but I am not known for lasting very long." I gently removed her hands and helped her remove the nightgown I had been so relieved to get her into just a few hours ago. She helped me out of my shirt.

"Please don't look at me," Mom said.

"You didn't seem to mind while I was bathing you," I answered.

"But that was the booze acting up. Sometimes I forget what age and less than proper care have done to it," she lamented.

"If I'm gonna be your lover, then I'm gonna love your body, whether you like it or not."

"Fair enough! Take me, you fool! I'm yours." 

I reached for a tit. It didn't matter any more that it was flat and pendulous. The nipple responded quickly to my touch.

"Oh, suck me, Lover, please."

My lips were on her hardened nipple in an instant. I reached for her other breast. No, it wasn't firm and shapely, but it was still pleasant to touch. From her soft happy moans I could tell Mom was enjoying it, too.

"I feel like the old whore from Nantucket," said Mom. Trying to laugh will still sucking her tit just didn't work well.

After getting myself regrouped, I began moving down her body, kissing and licking here and there, till I reached her mons. Then I paused. "Are you sure you're okay with this, Mom?"

"No, I'm NOT okay with this!" replied my mother in a scolding voice.

Surprised by her tone, I looked up at her frowning face.

"I never knew you were so selfish! Getting ready to eat my poor old pussy without letting me play with your hard young cock. Shame on you!" She kept the scolding tone okay but she was having trouble suppressing a smile.

"It's for your own good, Mom," I responded. "If you even looked at it funny, it would paint the wall white."

"Then for goodness sake, stick it inside me. I like that wall just the way it is."

I needed no further urging. As she spread her legs invitingly, I moved my glans to her labia and began a slow gentle penetration, not wanting to cause her any pain. But I needn't have worried.

"I never thought I'd be this wet again," she smiled at me, her hands finding my buttocks to force me deeper within her. She studied my face which was contorted from the effort of holding back my orgasm. "It's okay, Danny." Her eyes twinkled with amusement and enjoyment. "I'm good. Let it go!"

She continued to look me lovingly as she gave one last thrust of her pelvis against me. We both shuddered in a tremendous flooding orgasm. Her legs were clamped tight around me to hold my spent penis in her as long as possible.

When we had both returned to something like normal breathing, Mom looked deep into my eyes. "I love you, my son. I needed you so badly and you came to me."

"I love you, my mother. I will be here for you always."




Salvation



We both soon fell into a deep and glorious sleep, still locked in each other's arms.



Salvation



I guess I was no different from any other guy growing up in the bad old '80's. Those were the days when greed was good, nice guys came second, and political correctness was yet to be thrust upon us.

Life in middle class suburbia was comfortable rather than excessive, but with the increasingly intrusive advertising and an ever growing focus on lifestyle, wealth, and success, it was easy for a young 18 year old guy like me to get a contorted view of the world. My stock standard reading material was Playboy and Penthouse, and most of my ideas, beliefs and attitudes came from those glossy pages of wisdom. 

There were two types of women in the world I had decided; Babes and the rest. All women were dim-witted bimbos, but Babes were hot, were great to have sex with, and looked mighty good hanging off your arm. It was my ambition, no, my birthright, to bonk as many Babes as I could, and eventually secure myself one for a wife. In the meantime I had to work fairly hard at college so that I could get a good job, and thus attract a bevy of buxom babes from which I could make my selection.

As a result of my attitudes, I was generally very unpopular at college. I was regarded as something of an ass-hole by nearly all of the female students, and all of the Tutors. Yes, even the male Tutors despised me because of the derogatory way I talked about their wives and the female Tutors. None of my male Tutors were married to Babes, therefore, to my mind, they were all losers, and I told them so. I enjoyed pointing out the physical flaws in the dogs they had married. Male Tutors, who were not married, were of course branded as homosexuals or faggots as I preferred to call them. 

The female Tutors automatically despised me because of the way I treated them. I was contemptuous to all but one of them. Yes, you guessed it; she was a Babe – the only Babe in the school.

Mrs. Susan James was one of the top Art Tutors. She was married and lived in our street. She was tall and slender, with a mane of rich, black waist length hair, and disproportionately large breasts, (otherwise known as normal breasts), beautiful brown doe eyes, and a knock out face and ass. (I wasn't sure which I valued more highly.) She had a look about her that was straight out of a centerfold, and I thought she was the hottest thing I had ever seen. Naturally, I gave her the respect she deserved and was always polite and helpful to her in class, and worked very hard to ensure I got top marks.

Often I cursed my rotten luck. If only I had gone to a college where there were more babes as tutors, I would have been one of the best students in the country. I grudgingly accepted my lot in life, but compensated for the raw deal I had received by spending as much time as humanly possible with Mrs. James. I mowed her lawns and cleaned her pool. Her husband was away a lot and she was grateful for my offers of assistance. After all, she was a Babe, so I didn't charge her any money for it. I knew I creeped her out a bit, and she was often quite standoffish, but I figured it was just her way of compensating for the natural animal magnetism she felt for me. 

I couldn't wait for the day when we would inevitably have wild sex. Her husband would be out of town. It would be a hot day and I'd be stripped down to my waist, the sweat would make my skin shine in the sun, showing off my muscles and driving her insane with lust. She would invite me in. She would be wearing nothing but the tiniest of bikinis, as all women do when they're alone. Her breasts would push out from the confines of her D-cups and heave with each breath she took. We would sip champagne whilst she told me how lonely she was. Soft music would be playing in the background and I would listen to her and comfort her until I decided to press myself against her. She would resist me at first, but then she would give in to her animal desires and my overwhelming masculinity. I would fuck her brains out like she needed and deserved.

To be honest, I was becoming almost frustrated with her. I had given her ample opportunities to seduce me, but for some bizarre reason she seemed more interested in her painting or in the book she was reading. I did some further research in playboy and realized that I would have to be more forceful. Babes needed to know who was in charge, the article had said. Babes like guys who know what they want, it said. 'Go for it, you never know your luck' and 'There was no shame in rejection', it stressed. Rejection? As if!

I was at the time masturbating every night, and had read every playboy forum article of the last three years. I was confident that despite my lack of actual experience, I had all the required skills, knowledge and stamina as a lover to be able to give the bitch the doing over she needed. All I needed was the opportunity.

I devised a rough plan for our tryst. Friday afternoon was when I usually cleaned her pool. Her husband was still away, and my family would be out. I would get there early, finish the pool, and be there, sweaty and topless when she got home. Mrs. James would be tired from a hard week at school, and at this time I anticipated she would be most receptive to my advances. A good doofing from me would revitalize her and give her the pick-me-up she needed. It had also crossed my mind that as she would no doubt be desperate for more of me, once I'd given her the taste, we would have the entire weekend to fuck ourselves silly.

Naturally I told all the guys at school. I was something of a legend to them, and they eagerly listened to my plans and grunted and groaned with envy and pent up sexual aggression. Some of them advised caution, but I dismissed their advice. After all, what did they know about women? Who were they to tell me?

Friday afternoon came around quickly, and I finished off the pool as fast as I could, and waited for her return. She took longer that I expected, for it was at least an hour before her Volvo cruised into the garage. Luckily I had read an article the night before about masturbating before an important date, so that when it was time to perform for real, you were not too eager and didn't cum too quickly. I used the extra time I had to shoot off a load. I wasn't too concerned for her sake. I knew she'd enjoy being fucked by me. I was more concerned about my own enjoyment – I wanted it to last.

She had obviously been shopping as I saw her struggle with several bags. Carrying bags was woman's work, so I didn't bother to assist her. I used the time to adjust my tight khaki shorts to show off my tight buttocks, and stand outside her French windows. I made sure I found a sunny spot so that she would see my muscles shine and her primitive sexual desires would kick in.

I was furious when I heard the shower running. "That selfish bitch", I cursed to myself, but then I realized that it was probably a good thing. I preferred my women to be clean and fresh – I didn't care much for those hideous feminine odors I had read about!

I must confess, all this waiting in the sun had done little for my ardor, and I could sense my man meat shrinking and losing interest. Perhaps the wank had been a mistake? No. Playboy knows what it's talking about.

Suddenly her voice pierced my thoughts, and I looked up suddenly.

"What on earth are you doing?"

She asked, with an incredulous look on her face. I had several hundred smooth one liners in my repertoire, all of them guaranteed by penthouse to be dead set leg openers when used on the weaker sex. However at that point in time, I forgot every one of them. 

You see she was the very vision of my every sexual fantasy. Her long black hair, still damp from the shower, hung down loosely around her shoulders. It was messy, and yet the best hairdresser in the world could not have styled her a more natural looking, wild, and wanton look. She was wearing a sexy black lace bra, and matching panties, with a garter belt which hooked onto a pair of sheer, black stockings. My mouth made like a goldfish, but no sound emerged, and my face reddened with embarrassment. I bet Hef never acted like this! I preyed that my composure would recover so that the sex could commence. Obviously she was hot for it! Fancy being such a slut as to dress up like that, just for my benefit!

"Strange you hanging around out here like this! Did you want something? You'd better come in, I'm in a hurry."

She said as she turned and disappeared from view. "In a hurry hey?", I thought to myself. "Gee, women these days are pretty straight-forward! Luckily for her I was in a hurry too, and I'd have my schlong pounding her bearded clam in no time at all". I followed her inside with legs made of jelly and a heart pounding like a big bass drum.

I waited in the living room excitedly. My mouth was as dry as a sand pit. I moved to go and get a drink of water, but I was halted as she re-appeared. She was carrying a pair of outrageously sexy black stilettos, and a sexy little black cocktail dress.

"So what were you doing hanging around out there, half naked? You looked a bit creepy. I was about to call the Police when I realized it was you."

She said. She had a deep, earthy voice which I normally found incredibly sexy, but I was acutely aware of the anger in her voice. I guess she was angry with me because she was fighting her innermost desires for me, but I was suddenly becoming less confident about this. Could it be that she was genuinely pissed off at me? "Na! She'll come around." I told myself.

Meanwhile she had reached into a cupboard and was bent over as she unfolded an ironing board and a small iron. Her perfect ass, clad in the tiniest and sheerest black lace bikini briefs stuck out proudly toward me. I know I was crazy not to give it a firm spank – obviously that's what she was hoping for, or maybe just a quick pinch would have done the trick. Everyone knows women love being slapped and pinched on the ass by guys, but I was confronted with having to come up with something intelligent to say. None of my amassed stick-mag wisdom seemed appropriate.

Here I was, confronted by an impossibly attractive woman, wearing the sexiest of outfits imaginable, and rather than leaping on top of her I was standing awkwardly behind her, trying to think up something to say.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. It's just that I finished the pool early."

I managed to say. It felt good to get the words out, to sound like a man again, a man confidently talking to a woman, which of course, I was. Things however were not quite going to plan. I distinctly detected some indifference toward me, not pretend indifference as with most babes, this seemed to be genuine, as if she really wasn't interested in me at all!

"So why didn't you go home?"

She asked, her beauty unable to mask the cold hard logic of her question.

"I...I...I... was waiting for you."

I stuttered like an infant. It was as if she was an adult, and I was merely a child!

"What for?"

Her tone was frank and accusing. It was if she was suggesting I had no cause to hang around her house once my job was completed. The nerve!

"I thought you might need me for...something else."

I answered. I didn't sound a suave as I wanted to. "Something else" was the phrase which was supposed to make her smile seductively and remove her bra. To be honest, I sounded more like a frightened little boy. I realized what a mistake I had made. Here I was thinking she was a Babe, when in reality, she was simply an adult female, who happened to conform to some media manipulated stereo-type. It didn't matter that she was sexy. It didn't matter that she was wearing sexy lingerie – she was a bitch and she was giving me a hard time. (The wrong sought of hard time.)

"Now why would you hang about half naked for nearly two hours on the off chance that I would want something else?"

She spoke as she ironed the delicate hem on the dress. Her focus was the dress, I was a mere irritation to her. How could that be? I folded my arms across my chest. This made me feel more assertive and allowed my biceps to bulge seductively. Something caught her eye. "At last!", my subconscious screamed at me. "Now she's taken the bait!"

But she was not admiring my biceps. Instead she was looking at my groin. She had a snarl on her lips that would have scared any man.

"What the hell is that?"

She asked, putting the iron on its stand and moving over to me. She squatted down in front of my groin. I had dreamed of her doing this, and my heart leapt for joy, even though I was still a little unsure of what was actually happening. 

Not waiting for me to answer, she reached out with a finger to the front of my pants. My heart stopped beating. By the time I saw the wet patch it was too late. Some residual cum from my pre-emptive wank must have seeped out of me. She ran her finger over the wetness and then rubbed the liquid between her finger and thumb.

"Oh my God! That's semen! You dirty little pervert!"

She screamed at me. I hadn't expected that reaction. Didn't babes drink cum like it was water? She continued to shout at me, the anger so very evident in her eyes.

"You've being masturbating over me all afternoon. I suppose you were hanging around hoping to see me naked were you? Well have a good look! Is this what you wanted to see? Huh? Am I sexy enough for you? You pathetic, sexist, male-chauvinist pig! I am so disappointed and disgusted with you. I have defended you to all the other people at work. They think you are a pig, but I tell how clever and nice and helpful you are. And all the while I was simply a bit player in some sick little testosterone fueled fantasy of yours."

I felt very stupid. I loved looking at sexy women in lingerie, but they were always in magazines. How I longed for the security of my bedroom and those non-descript female images. I didn't like looking at a real woman quite as much. Especially one that was angry and shouting at me. I wanted to run out, but she hadn't finished with me yet. Even I had to accept that my dreams of a weekend of sex with her were fast fading. 

"I know!" 

She shouted, as if she had just had an idea. She sat down and put on the high heels she had brought out before. Then she started walking around me with slow, exaggerated steps. Her heels made a chilling clip, clop on the cold slate tiles.

"Is this what you wanted to see? Am I sexy? Is this how the girls look in Hustler or whatever trash it is you read? Is this what you thought you were going to see? Well, aren't you a lucky boy! Have a good hard look. Do I make you feel horny? Am I the object of your desires? Do you really think that a woman like me could ever be interested in a silly little boy like you?"

I felt anything but horny. I felt stupid and angry and hurt. Then she said something that made me feel sick to the stomach.

"Would you like to have sex with me? Huh? You wanna fuck me, big boy? You wanna give it too me like the slut I am? Huh? Huh? Huh?"

Each time she said "Huh!" she poked me in the chest. I gulped.

I should have been rock hard, but her trash talk only made me feel more stupid, and more inept. I suddenly realized how degrading my view of women must be not only for her, but for all women. I had only seen her as a piece of meat, a lay, a fuck, a Babe. I had overlooked the 30 years of life experience, the two divorces, the two miscarriages, and her battle with bulimia. I ignored her two university degrees, the three years she spent living and working in Paris, the number of paintings she had sold. I failed to notice dedication to her art and her teaching, her compassion, her empathy, and her dignity. 

I was beginning to realize what a dickhead I was.

"So come on, get them off! I want to see that man meat you're going to feed me. You gonna give it to me doggy? What position you like? Huh?"

She now poked me in the chest with each word she uttered and I could tell that she was not kidding.

"No please, I'm sorry. Can't I just go?"

I pleaded.

"Aw, the widdle bwaby wants to gwo home to mummy, does he?"

She mocked me cruelly and laughed with delight on hearing the malice in her own voice.

"As soon as I see what I'm missing out on, big boy, you can go. So come on, show me what you've got."

She sat down smugly and raised an eyebrow as she waited. I fumbled with my button, then the zipper. The slick that had leaked from my cock from my earlier exertion was even more evident on my underwear. I preyed my cock would spring to life. In one sad corner of my severely dented male psyche, a tiny thought struggled for life. "Perhaps when she sees how magnificent your cock is, she will be begging you for it."

I doubted it. The moment had long since past. I gasped as I slid down my underwear to reveal my manhood to her. It was smaller than it had ever been. She burst out laughing. Tears of shame welled in my eyes.

"That's the tiniest, most inept little thing I've ever had the misfortune to lay eyes on. Now don't you dare move."

She hissed at me as she clip-clopped out of the room at high speed. Before I could work up the courage to run she was storming back into the room. In her hands she held a Polaroid camera. 

"Now smile while I get some nice photos!"

She said in a happy, sing song voice, as she commenced snapping away. I could hear my heart pounding in my ears. I started to cry. I was a man of 18 and yet there I was, before the sex goddess of the century, balling like a child with my pants down around my ankles and my ridiculous penis flapping in the breeze.

"Now young man,"

She said, sitting back down on the lounge and shuffling through the six or seven photos she had taken of me. She paused and smirked at one or two of them, before returning her steely gaze to me.

"I am going to do you an enormous favor."

I opened my mouth to beg her not to show the photos, but she waved me away, and continued.

"I could give these out to the other students, or to your parents, or even the Police. I could ruin your life with these."

Her voice was soft yet hard, and she paused to let her words take effect. The only sound in the room was my sobbing.

"But instead what I shall do is grant you a wonderful new life. From this day forth, you shall treat all women with the respect. You will work extra hard in ALL your classes, and you will apologize to all the women you have ever offended. Is that clear?"

I nodded.

"If you do these things, you will find there is a world of great beauty out there, and not only will you learn to enjoy all that beauty, you can also become a part of that beauty. Do you understand?"

Again I nodded. I wasn't quite sure what she meant. Was she talking about Babes? Probably not, but I wasn't about to argue with her.

"You have a good brain, but you are squandering it at the college. If you lifted your game you could be accepted into one of the top Universities in the country. The day you get accepted into one of those places, is the day I give you all these photos back. If I hear you've been rude or nasty to ANYONE, and I mean anyone, I will have these photos xeroxed and distributed. Do you understand?"

"Yes Mrs. James. Thank you Mrs. James."

I bleated. She nodded and seemed satisfied.

"Right get your clothes on and get out. I'm late for a date with a REAL man."

She snapped at me and resumed ironing her dress, as if the whole episode had never occurred. I was still in shock. I just stared at her as she finished ironing and then slipped the little dress on. She looked sensational. In comparison I looked and felt miserable. What a pathetic failure of a man I was.

"Go on, I'm meeting my husband tonight in town, and we're spending the night at a hotel. You've already made me late, and yes, I know what you are thinking, we will be having sex. And do you want to know something else?"




Salvation



As I pulled up my pants and moved dejectedly to the door, I turned to listen to her final insult.

"When my husband is making mad passionate love to me tonight, I'll be lying back and thinking of ... anything and everything, but you!"

She flashed me one last sexy smile and then left the room and left me to a lonely walk home. It felt like someone had taken a knife and torn my guts out. I was completely empty inside. One sentiment remained, and did not leave me for many days. I felt so very, very foolish.

#########################################

I did everything Mrs. James asked of me. I apologized to everyone and made an effort to be kind and courteous to everyone. I kept me magazine collection, but there were things that I looked at occasionally, rather than my daily inspiration. I still admired the sexy girls that spread themselves out on the glossy pages, but I realized that they were just people like me. They ate, slept, farted, laughed, and cried just as I did, the only difference was that they possessed physical qualities that Mr Hefner and Co deemed desirable. They weren't really any better or worse than any other person.

Slowly people started to accept the new me, and I started to develop real friendships for the first time in my life. Some of my new friends were girls.

It took some time for me to understand what Mrs. James had meant about the beauty in life and my capacity to be part of it. But eventually I could see the impossible beauty of mathematics. I learned to appreciate art and music. I started to read the classics (not Best of Hustler) but Wordsworth, Keats and Dickens. I was able to see and be part of this beauty because I allowed my tutors and peers show me the way. Rather than dismissing Ms Ramprakash as a dried up old Indian bitch as I had done previously, I listened as she revealed the intricate mysteries of differential calculus. I learned so much from her, because I allowed her to teach me, without my prejudices getting in the way.

I did eventually get into a top University, and true to her word, Mrs. James attended my graduation and handed over a sealed yellow envelope. I went on to graduate in architecture and now have a brilliant career. I own a big house and work out of a big high-rise office. I am a success and I owe it all to Mrs. James. Everyday I thank god that she did what she did to me. I can't imagine where I'd be if I had continued down the path I was on.

My greatest treasure is my beautiful wife. I love her like I have never loved anything before, and I was totally unaware that I was capable of such an overwhelming, deep, mind-numbing love. It is quite scary at times when I reflect on just how precious she is to me, and how I'd ever survive without her by my side.

Between you and me, she is also a bit of a Babe, but her physical beauty is only one of the many wonderful things she brings into my life. 

#########################################

Note from Author: If just one young guy reads this story and changes his attitude to women, then I will be very content.



Salvation



As I walked up the stairs into the community center, I kicked the snow off my boots and pulled my cap and gloves off and shoved them into my pocket. I saw the "TOY DROP OFF" sign and followed the arrow down the hall.

I walked up to the table with the bag containing the three toys I had bought. I didn't have a lot myself, but I always felt that it was important to give to those in need. Hopefully three kids would have a little better Christmas because of me.

The volunteer, a kind looking woman who reminded me a little of my grandmother, took the toys and gave me a donation receipt for my taxes.

"Thank you so much, sweetie," she said.

"It's no problem," I said with a smile.

I stepped out of the way and noticed a sign that said they were looking for pen pals for prison inmates.

"Were you interested in writing an inmate?" the kind woman asked me.

I thought for a second and shrugged. "Oh. Um. Sure. Why not?"

She pulled out a stack of printed pages.

"Are you looking to write a man or a woman?"

"Um... A man," I said quietly.

"We don't have a lot of those," she said as she flipped through the stack. "Oh. Here's one."

She handed me the paper and I looked it over. Marvin Kellogg was his name. He was the same age as me, 30. He still had over two years to go on a ten year sentence. I couldn't even wrap my head around going to prison at 22 years old. The bio had some basic information. He was single, with no kids and grew up in Detroit. It said he was looking for men for friendships or relationships. He looked a little bit rough in his picture, kind of brawny with dark hair and a moustache. He was kind of smiling, but even in the picture his eyes looked so sad. So lonely.

I knew what it was like to be lonely.

I nodded at the woman and I folded up the paper and put it in my pocket.

She gave me a smile. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas to you, too."

I bundled up in my coat and headed to my car to go in to work.

I pulled into the Corbin Tree Services parking lot a short drive later. I unlocked the door to the employee entrance and turned on the lights and made my way to my office.

My dad, Gary Corbin, started Corbin Tree Services 35 years ago. We specialize in tree and stump removal, pruning, relocating and planting. Basically anything to do with trees. This time of year we are really busy. With all the ice damage to the trees, we get a lot of customer calls to clear fallen trees and trim branches.

I work in the office, basically running the business. In addition to doing all of the accounting, I take customer calls and schedule our trucks. Dad works out in the field with the employees and works a lot with the corporate customers.

I started up my PC and hung my coat up in the closet. I went to the break room and started a pot of coffee. As I left the break room, I heard the front door unlock and beep and Dad walked in.

"Mornin', Danny," he said to me.

"Hi, Dad."

Dad clapped me on the back as he walked past to the break room. I followed him into the break room and we both got cups of coffee.

"How was your weekend, son?" he asked as he leaned against the counter and sipped his coffee.

I grabbed the sugar and poured a little into my coffee. "It was okay. I bought some toys for the toy drive. Um... I went to the movies... out to eat..."

"By yourself?"

"Yeah," I shrugged. "So?" I said defensively.

"I'm just... I'm worried about you. I don't want you to go through life alone."

"I'm okay, Dad. Besides, you're alone and you're happy, aren't you?"

"That's different, son. I had 20 good years with your mother. And I have you."

Dad put his hand on the back of my neck and squeezed, then added with a chuckle, "That's not to say that for the past 15 years, I neglected to get my 'needs' taken care of."

I cringed. "Oh god, Dad. I don't want to hear about that!"

We both laughed.

"Son... You, uh... You met any guys to take care of your, uh..."

I squirmed uncomfortably. I know it was hard for Dad to talk about guys, so he must really be worried. But I was not about to discuss my sex life, or lack thereof, with him. "Dad, can we change the subject please?"

"I'm just worried about you, Danny."

"I'm okay, Dad. Honestly."

"Okay," he said with a sigh.

The guys started trickling in and I went and got their logs ready for the day.

After everyone was dispatched, I sat down at my desk and ran the past-due notices and got them ready to mail.

I pulled Marvin's bio out of my pocket and read it over again. I grabbed a pen and a notebook and began writing. I started over a couple of times before finally getting out a simple letter.



Dear Marvin,

Hi. My name is Danny Corbin. I received your bio from the community center and thought I would write you.

I'm also 30 years old. I work for my Dad's tree service company, running the office. It's not very glamorous or exciting, but it pays my bills and I'm good at it.

I'm a single gay man. I'm not really looking for a relationship right now. I have a hard time meeting people. I find that most guys aren't interested in really getting to know you. It kind of sucks. I guess I'm afraid of getting hurt, you know?

I have two stray dogs that I adopted, Harley and Bandit. They are a handful, but they are good dogs. They are both mixed breeds. Bandit is brown and kind of small and looks like some terrier and chihuahua mix maybe. Harley is a little bigger and a little fatter. I'm not sure what he is. But he's mostly black and kind of fluffy. 

I hope to hear from you and I hope you have a very Merry Christmas.

Danny



I put the letter into an envelope and addressed and stamped it, then dropped it in with the outgoing mail.

***

I received a letter in the mail from the state penitentiary about two weeks later. I laid back on the couch with the letter. Bandit jumped up on the couch and pushed my legs apart and laid down with his head on my thigh.

I opened the letter and rubbed Bandit's head while I read it.



Danny,

Thanks for your letter.

People call me Moose not Marvin. A nickname I got on my high school football team. It kind of fits me.

It sounds like someone hurt you in the past. Don't let that stop you from living your life. A guy like you must have a big heart taking in strays and writing to convicts.

You didn't ask, but I know your dying to know. I killed someone. They called it vehicular manslaughter. I was drunk and driving. I got 10 yrs but probly deserve more. If you don't write back, I don't blame you.

Moose 





I read the letter a second time. A tear fell down my right cheek and I wiped it away. What he did was so horrible I just couldn't believe it. But it sounded like he needed a friend. I got out a pen and paper and wrote him back. I didn't talk about what he did. Instead, I talked about myself.



Dear Moose,

It's me again, Danny. 

I guess I should tell you a little more about myself.

I'm pretty much a loner. I guess it happened after my mom died. I was 14 when she got sick. She died when I was 15. It was so hard on both me and my dad. That was when I kind of closed myself in. I stopped hanging out with my friends and they all moved on. I never really figured out how to make friends after that.

Dad was always there for me, though. When I told him I was gay, I knew that he didn't like it and it made him really uncomfortable. But he tried to smile and he said he loves me no matter what. It's really hard for him to talk to me about guys and dating, but he tries. I think he is scared that I will be alone for the rest of my life, or that someone will hurt me if they find out I'm gay. I think it also makes him sad that I'm his only child and he will never have grand kids.

I've only had one boyfriend. I dated Silas for a few months. We met on my 21st birthday. I forced myself to go out and have a drink at bar. I found out that I don't really like the taste of beer. I'd rather have a pop. But I did meet Silas there. He was my first and I was so in love with him. But apparently he didn't feel the same way since he dumped me for someone else. I've gone out with a few guys since then, but nothing that lasted.

I know this is a stupid question, and you probably get asked it a lot and you don't have to answer if you don't want to, but what is it like in prison?

I hope you had a happy New Year.

Danny 





When he wrote me back a couple of weeks later, I was very excited to read his letter.



Dear Danny,

Thanks for writing back. I really didn't think you would.

My mom and dad disowned me after what I did. I don't blame them. I'm an only child, too.

I'm glad that your dad is trying with you. It means he really cares about you.

After I got out of high school, all my buddies pretty much left for college. I couldn't afford to go. I fell in with the wrong crowd. Partied too much. I got drunk and smoked and got high every weekend. I fucked up and now I'm paying the price.

Danny. Prison sucks. I hope you never have to find out first hand. We are locked up in our cells most of the day except for meals and showers and 1 hour of rec time. I do a lot of reading. My cell mate is a pig. He farts all day and all night long. All the guys here are animals. The worst thing is how lonely it is. Your never physically alone, but mentally its just me and my thoughts.

Promise me that you will keep clean. I don't want you to ever end up here. The guys here would break you.

That picture you have of me is a couple years old. Do you have a pic you can send me? I want to know what you look like. If you want.

Moose 



I took a picture of myself with my digital camera and printed it out. I looked it over and nodded to myself. I thought I looked pretty good.

I'm 5'10" in height and have always had a thin build, but my tummy has gotten a little soft over the years. I have dirty blond hair and hazel eyes. I have a goatee and moustache and a very thin beard along my jawline. My left ear has a small titanium ball earring in it.

He can't see it in the picture since I'm wearing a shirt, but I have the Superman 'S' shield symbol tattooed on my left arm.

I put the picture in my next letter and mailed it out to him.

Dear Moose,

I enclosed a picture for you like you asked. I hope I match how you imagine me.

Prison life sounds very sad and very lonely. But I guess it's supposed to be a punishment. I think I would be terrified.

I promise that I will keep clean. It's pretty easy for me. I'm pretty straight laced and always stayed out of trouble. I was always a good kid. I never gave my parents any trouble. This is going to sound really nerdy, but I have never tried any kind of drugs, I've never smoked and I've only had one alcoholic drink. Dad sometimes jokes that my being gay is to make up for me being such a good and easy kid. He doesn't mean it in a mean way, though.

If you want me to send you any books or magazines, I will get them for you.

Your friend,

Danny



***

Moose and I began writing regularly. We'd talk about all kinds of things. I told him things that I would never dream of telling to anyone else. I guess having him be somewhat anonymous made it easier for me to open up. He always gave me good advice and made me feel better.

He told me that he has known he was gay for a long time, but he hid it from everyone. He's never even been with a guy, which surprised me, but he's been with lots of girls.

One thing I realized pretty quickly is that he was a good person at heart. He made a terrible mistake and was paying for it, but he couldn't and wouldn't ever forgive himself for what he'd done and that broke my heart. But I tried to put myself in his place. If I had done that, I don't think I'd ever be able to forgive myself either.

I looked forward to Moose's letters month after month. We wrote each other regularly for nearly two years. I saved each of his letters in a box that I kept on the book shelf.

He always told me that I was a great guy and that someday I would meet someone and I'd be happy.

I did finally meet someone who I hoped would be that guy.

I had found a stray cat outside in the alley behind my house and I took it in, of course. I just couldn't leave it outside in the cold. I was worried at first that Harley and Bandit would not like him, but they seemed okay. Bandit seemed much more interested in playing with the cat than Harley. Harley was lazy. He couldn't care less. I named the cat Whiskers because I couldn't think of anything better. He spent much of the time hiding from Bandit behind the couch.

I decided that I needed to go to Pet Smart to buy some cat food. After I bought the cat food, I went next door to Home Depot to grab some window insulation kits. My windows tended to get drafty in the winter. I walked down the aisle and picked up a few of the packages trying to decide between them.

"These ones are the best," the man standing next to me said. He picked up one of the boxes and held it out to me.

I looked up at him and said, "Thanks."

He was a nice looking guy. Maybe an inch shorter than me, with a thick build. He had brown hair that was slicked back and hung down just past the nape of his neck. He had a couple days of beard growth. He had green eyes. He reminded me of Sawyer on LOST.

He gave me a smug grin and looked me up and down before settling back on my eyes. He was checking me out.

"You need helping hanging those up?" he asked.

"Oh... No, I think I got it," I said quietly.

I gave him a little smile and looked down at my feet.

"You sure? I'm real good with my hands," he said suggestively with a sly smile on his face.

Okay. This is what Dad and Moose were always talking about. This guy was flirting with me. I needed to stop being scared.

I swallowed and cleared my throat. "I mean, I'm not going right home. I was going to stop and grab dinner. At Chili's maybe."

"Is that an invitation?" he asked as he tilted his head back and looked at me with raised eyebrows.

I nodded nervously. "Yeah."

"I'm Leo."

"I'm Danny," I said as I shook his hand.

Leo helped me carry my window kits to the self-checkout and after I paid, he followed me out to my car.

"I'll meet you there, Danny," he said.

His hand touched my back and moved down and ran along my butt. I nervously nodded at him.

The restaurant was just down the street a couple of miles. We walked in together and got a booth for two. He ordered both of us a beer and we started to get to know each other. I didn't like the beer at all, but I did drink about half of it since he bought it for me.

We talked about what we did for a living. Leo drove a forklift at a warehouse.

"Really? Wow, that's so cool."

"It pays the bills," he said with a shrug.

I was able to relax and we had a good time talking. Leo was older than I was; he was 38 years old. He had an older sister whom he didn't get along with. His parents were older and very religious, so they didn't see eye to eye on a lot of topics, including his sexual orientation.

After talking to him, I realized how lucky I was to have a father that loved me and supported me, even if he didn't really like my being gay.



As we left the restaurant, Leo asked me out again. We traded phone numbers and he walked me to my car. He gave me a hug and I went home for the night. I really liked that he didn't try to sleep with me on our first date. It felt good that he wanted to get to know me.

***

Leo and I went out again on Friday night. He picked me up after he got off work and we went out to dinner. Leo seemed to be really into me. He was constantly flirting and touching me. It was so surreal. I just couldn't believe that he was that attracted to me.

When we got out to his car, he leaned in and kissed me. I put my hands on his shoulders and kissed him back. He kissed me hard, pushing his tongue into my mouth. He was very aggressive and I kind of liked that. After a long and passionate kiss, he moved back so that we could take a much needed breath. He gave me one more kiss on the lips and then he chuckled.

"Nice," he said as he ran his thumb over my bottom lip.

"Thanks," I smiled.

He started the car and drove me back home. When he pulled into the driveway, he turned the car off and got out and waited for me. I guess he wanted to come inside. I got out of the car and I escorted him inside the house.

My two mutts ran up and jumped all over both of us. I giggled and tried to get them to sit. Leo frowned and pushed Bandit off his legs.

"Down!" Leo said firmly and Bandit ran and hid behind my legs.

"I'm so sorry," I cringed. "They get excited when I come home. And they don't get to meet new people often."

"It's okay," Leo said and he tried to give me a smile.

Whiskers came out and took a look at us, then ran and hid.

"How many animals you got?" Leo asked.

"Just three. I just found Whiskers the cat in the back alley a couple days ago. And this is Bandit and that's Harley. I adopted Bandit first about five years ago, and Harley a couple of years ago."

"That's sweet of you," he said.

"Thanks. I really love animals. Would you like something to drink?" I asked.

"No, thanks. Come sit down with me, Danny."

"Let me put Harley and Bandit out back to go to the bathroom."

I let the dogs into the backyard so that they could take care of their business. Leo took my hand and we sat down on the sofa.

He took my face in his hands and started kissing me passionately. His tongue pushed into my mouth and explored every inch. He sucked my tongue into his mouth, demanding that my tongue play with his. His mouth moved to my neck and he kissed and sucked.

As we made out, his hands moved down to his pants and he unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants. He took my right hand and put it on his penis. I looked down into his lap. My hand was wrapped around an average six inch cut cock, very much like my own. It jutted out from a trimmed bush. I gripped his dick harder and jerked my hand up and down while we tongue kissed.

He moved his hand to back of my head and pushed down. I moved my head from his hand and shook my head. I wasn't ready for that yet, so I kept stroking him.

"Spit in your hand," he husked quietly.

I brought my hand up to my mouth and dribbled spit into it. I returned my hand to his dick and got it nice and wet. Leo leaned back and spread his arms on the back of the couch. I laid my head on his shoulder and stroked him off.

His dick felt so hot in my hand. It had been a really long time since I had touched another man. My own dick was straining against my jeans. I couldn't wait for Leo to touch me, too.

Leo pushed up off the couch and stood up in front of me. His dick bobbed in front of my face and I spit into my hand again and started to stroke him.

Leo's hand moved to the back of my neck. "Suck it," he whispered as he pulled my head closer.

"Is it okay if I just jack you off this time?" I asked, looking up at him.

He nodded and I slid my fist up and down his saliva soaked shaft. I flicked my thumb over the head and twisted my hand. Leo groaned loudly. His knees buckled and his breathing grew erratic.

"Faster," he whispered.

I stroked faster and increased the firmness of my grip. I felt his cock swell and throb in my hand. Pre-come oozed out of the head and I swiped it with my thumb and spread it around the shaft with twist.

"Oh fuck," he groaned. "I'm gonna shoot."

His hand tightened on the back of my neck and he pulled me closer. I tilted my head back and pointed his dick down as the first blast splattered all over my chin. The remaining spurts landed on my shirt.

Leo let out a deep breath. "Whew," he breathed.

He grabbed the base of his cock and squeezed up the shaft. A drop of come oozed out and he wiped it on my bottom lip. I looked up at him and licked my lip, causing him to grunt in approval.




Salvation



He tapped the head of his dick on my chin a couple times, then put it away. He did up his pants and I got up and used the bathroom to clean myself up. I pulled off my dirty shirt and tossed it into the hamper in the laundry room next to the bathroom. I came back out to the living room in my white undershirt and jeans. As I entered the room, Leo stood up.

"I'll take that drink now," Leo said. "You got any water?"

I went to the kitchen and got both of us a glass of water.

"I had a good time tonight, Danny. But I gotta work early in the morning. I'll give you a call tomorrow when I get off work. Maybe we can hang out?"

"Sure, Leo. I'd like that."

"Great. Bye, Danny."

Leo gave me a hug and quick kiss and then left.

I sat down on the couch and smiled to myself. I grabbed a pen and paper. I couldn't wait to tell Moose.



Dear Moose,

Guess what? I took your advice. I met someone! I ran into him at Home Depot and he flirted with me and we went out to dinner. We've gone on two dates so far. He seems like a really nice guy. He seems to like me. I'll let you know how it goes.

How are things with you? I hope you are doing well.

Work is really busy. We had an ice storm last weekend and we have been working overtime clearing trees and branches.

They also started to hang the Christmas decorations downtown. Can you believe that it's almost Christmas? Time flies so fast!

I had some gifts added to your account, so think of me when you put on your new boxer shorts and socks. Ha ha.

Your friend,

Danny



***

I went out again with Leo a couple of days later. We went to the movies and then to dinner. It was a very simple date, but I had a really good time. I invited Leo inside after our date.

I made sure to corral the dogs before they could jump on Leo and I put them out back to go potty. Leo came up behind me and put his arms around me and started kissing my neck. I could feel his hard dick pushing into my butt.

"Leo," I moaned.

"Take me to your bedroom," he whispered into my ear.

His hot breath tickled my ear and sent a shiver down my spine. Leo followed me into my bedroom and I shut the door behind us. I turned on the light on the nightstand. Leo came up to me and kissed me. He unbuttoned my shirt and unbuckled my pants and let them fall to the floor.

Oh god, he was going to touch me. The thought of it made my dick jerk and leak into my briefs.

He pulled off all of his clothes and then pushed me onto the bed. I pushed the covers down and crawled back. He pulled my briefs off and tossed them onto the floor. He straddled me and kissed me deeply.

I stroked my hands over the light dusting of hair on his chest and let his tongue enter my mouth.

He tweaked my nipples and I whimpered against his mouth. My body shuddered from his touch. I arched my back up and pushed my dick up into him.

"Fuck, Danny... You are so hot..."

"Mmm, Leo..."

Leo rolled us over so that he was on his back. His hands grabbed my head and he pushed down. I let him push me until his dick brushed against my lips.

"Suck it," he groaned.

I took him into my mouth and moaned. His dick was so warm. I sucked all of the pre-come from the head and slid my lips down the shaft. I sucked gently, taking most of him into my mouth. I sucked harder as I pulled back.

Leo groaned and gripped my head tighter. He bucked his hips up. The head of his cock hit the back of my throat and I gagged a bit and pulled back. His hands loosened on my head and I bobbed my head up and down his shaft.

"Suck harder," he whispered.

I sucked harder and moved faster, up and down. I stroked his balls as I sucked him.

Leo pulled me up and kissed me. He rolled us over and and turned me over onto my stomach.

"Fuck. Your ass is fucking perfect. Hot little bubble butt."

He got up off the bed and pulled a condom and a packet of lube from his jeans pocket. He moved between my legs and I laid my head down on the pillow and closed my eyes. I wasn't sure if I was ready for this, but I liked Leo and I wanted Leo to like me back.

Leo ripped open the lube and I felt his slippery finger push into the crack of my ass and slide into my tight hole.

I grunted in pain. "Go slow, Leo. Please... It's been a really long time..."

"Sorry, baby."

Leo slowly slid his finger in and out of me. I breathed in deep and let it out slowly. Just as the discomfort faded, Leo pulled out and slid two fingers into me. I drew in a sharp breath. He slid his fingers in and out of me, faster and faster. He hit my prostate and I whimpered. I was panting and trembling. I gripped the pillow I was laying on with my fists and moaned into it.

A third finger slid into me and I tensed up for a second and then willed myself to relax. I was soon pushing back against his thrusting hand.

Leo pulled back and I heard him rip open the condom wrapper. I turned back and watched him roll it down his penis. He dribbled the lube onto his cock and then leaned forward. He balanced himself on one arm as his other guided his dick to my hidden entrance. The head pushed into me and I shuddered and moaned.

Leo held himself up on his hands over my back. I let out a small whine of discomfort and he leaned down and kissed along my shoulder up to my neck. His tongue flicked against my ear. His hot breath assaulted my ear, sending waves of pleasure throughout my body.

"I won't hurt you," he said quietly. "Tell me when it's okay to move, baby."

"I'm okay, Leo."

He pushed further into me, sliding in another two inches. He pulled back and then pushed in again, sliding further into me. He slid all the way down and held still.

"You're so fucking hot, baby."

I grabbed his hands with mine and moaned as he started sliding in and out.

"Oh god," he groaned.

He pumped into me hard and fast, grunting and groaning loudly. Within a couple of minutes, he was gasping.

"Oh god, oh fuck," he grunted. "I'm coming!"

I felt his dick throb and it pulsed over and over as he spilled his seed into the condom.

"Your ass is too good, baby," he panted.

He relaxed on top of me and kissed along the nape of my neck. He pulled back and pulled out of me. He tied the condom off and tossed it into the trash bin next to my nightstand.

I rolled over onto my back and pulled him to me and kissed him.

"I gotta get up early, baby," he said. "I better get going."

"Oh. Okay," I said with a smile that hid my disappointment.

We kissed for a little bit more and I got up and put my underwear on, tucking my hard dick into the briefs while Leo got dressed. I walked him to the front door and he kissed me again.

"I'll call you tomorrow, babe," he said.

"Okay. Talk to you tomorrow."

One more quick kiss and he was gone for the night.

I went to the back door and let the dogs in and then headed for bed.

***

I continued to date Leo for the next two months. We saw each other two or three times a week. We continued to have sex, but it wasn't very satisfying. He always finished pretty quickly and then made no effort to take care of my needs.

He also didn't like my pets and that upset me more than the not-so-great sex. I really didn't see a future in us beyond what we were now. I wondered if I should just go ahead and break up with him.

Moose would know what I should do. He always gave me good advice. As I pulled out a pen and a piece of paper, I realized that I hadn't heard from my pen pal in over two months. I wrote him two months ago when I started dating Leo and I never heard back from him. I looked at the calendar. He was supposed to be released in less than a month. Maybe he was preoccupied because of that. I hoped that it wasn't trouble or anything bad. I hoped that I didn't do anything to make him mad at me.



Dear Moose,

It's been a couple months since I've heard from you. I hope you are okay.

I guess this will be the last letter you receive from me before you get out. I just want to tell you that I know that you are a good person at heart. I hope that you remember this as you begin the next chapter of your life.

I really hope you will still keep in touch with me.

If you are ever on this side of the state, look me up if you get a chance.

I will always be your friend.

Danny



***

I ended up not breaking up with Leo. I think I was being too critical of him and being too picky. He was a nice guy. I just needed to give him a little more time.

Before I knew it, Winter turned to Spring, and Spring turned to Summer.

I was sitting in my recliner one evening in June reading the latest Stephen King novel. I heard a loud rumbling. I peeked outside to see an old, rusty, beat up pickup truck pull in front of the house. I couldn't see who was in it and they didn't make any move to get out. I shrugged and set my book down. I got up to start dinner. Leo would be coming over after he finished working.

I grabbed a few onions and bell peppers and began chopping them up. I was making sausage and pepper sandwiches, one of Leo's favorites. I opened up the pantry and got the canned tomatoes and all of the other things I needed. I was busy chopping a clove of garlic when the doorbell rang.

Bandit and Harley ran to the front door and started barking like crazy.

I set the knife on the counter and washed my hands and dried them off with the towel.

"Okay, guys. Get back," I told my mutts.

Once I got them out of the way, I opened the front door to see the back of a giant man stepping off the porch onto the sidewalk. I stepped out onto the porch and shut the door behind me to keep the dogs in.

"Hi," I said. "Can I help you?"

He turned around and looked at me for a second then walked back onto the porch.

He was big. Tall and large, with a bit of a belly. He had shaggy black hair and a big bushy beard. He was wearing a green flannel shirt, dirty looking jeans and work boots. He shoved his hands into his pockets and looked at me nervously.

"Hi, Danny."

His voice was very deep and a little gravelly.

I looked back into his brown eyes and stared for a second. "Moose?"

He nodded. I laughed and jumped and hugged him tight. He let me hold onto him for a moment and then he brought his arms around me and nervously patted my back.

"I'm so glad to see you," I said. "I have been wondering for months what happened to you. Oh, please come in!"

I grabbed his hand and pulled him into the house and shut the door.

Bandit and Harley jumped all over him and he squatted down and let them sniff him. He then pet both of them and scratched their heads. Bandit licked his face and he laughed and wiped the drool off with the back of his hand and stood back up.

"Sorry about that," I said with a big smile.

"No problem. I like dogs."

I dragged him to the living room and I sat down on the couch. Harley became bored and went and laid on his doggy bed. Bandit ran back and forth in front of the couch wanting some attention. I told him to go lay down and reluctantly settled down at me feet.

"I can't believe I'm finally meeting you! What are you doing here?" I asked Moose. "How long are you in town for?"

"I'm not sure. I was thinking of moving here. I guess I'll see how the job market is first."

"Well, I'm sure you'll be able to find something. It's not too bad here."

"It's hard to find a decent job."

He didn't say it, but I knew why.

"I'm sorry," I said quietly.

"Don't be sorry. It's not your fault. It's mine."

"Where are you staying?"

"There's an extended stay motel by the highway."

"Oh, yeah. I know where that is."

He looked past me at the framed picture on the side table. It was a photo of Leo and me taken on Valentine's Day.

"Is that your boyfriend?" he asked.

"Yeah. That's Leo."

"He treat you good?"

I swallowed nervously and then lied. "Yeah."

He looked at me for a moment, staring into my eyes. I felt like he could see right through me and I turned my eyes away from him.

We sat in silence for a few seconds.

"Aren't you scared of me?" he asked quietly.

"No. Of course not."

"I'm an ex-con. You just invited me into your home. I could rob you. Or rape you. Or worse."

"You wouldn't do that."

"How do you know?"

"Because I know you. You wouldn't hurt me. You're a good person."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are. I wish you could forgive yourself. You paid your debt. Now you need to move on."

"I killed my best friend," he whispered. "There's no forgiveness for that."

I looked him right in the eyes.

"I forgive you," I whispered back.

He closed his eyes and tears poured down his cheeks and he began to sob. I wrapped my arms around him and pulled his big head to my shoulder and cried with him. After a few minutes, his cries subsided and he sniffled and cleared his throat. I let go of him as he sat up and I reached and got a tissue for him and one for me.

"You feel better?" I asked as I wiped my nose.

"Yeah. I do actually," he said with a mirthless chuckle.

He blew his nose and then stuffed the tissue in his pocket.

"You want some water? Or something else to drink?" I asked.

"Water is fine."

I got up and went to the kitchen. I tossed the veggies that I chopped earlier into a ziploc bag and put them in the fridge. I got both of us a glass of water and returned to the living room and sat down next to Moose.

"Here you go," I said as I handed him the glass.

We sipped our water quietly and I looked him over. He looked a bit of a mess, but if he cleaned up, I bet he'd be really handsome.

"You know what you need?" I said. "A trim."

"Hmm?"

"Your beard. You can't go on job interviews looking like Hagrid from Harry Potter."

"Huh?"

"Nevermind," I chuckled. "Come on."

I stood up and waited for him. "Come on."

He shook his head. "You don't have to..."

"No, it's no problem. Please let me do this for you. I won't mess it up. I promise. I trim myself regularly. See?"

I ran my hand over my thin beard and stroked my chin and smiled.

He got up and followed me into the bathroom. I got a big bath towel and my beard trimmer and scissors. He followed me into the kitchen and I set everything on the kitchen table.

"Okay, Moose. Sit down," I said. "Maybe you should take off your shirt. I don't want to get hair all over you."

He unbuttoned his flannel shirt and laid it down on the table. He was wearing a ratty wife beater underneath. He had a big barrel chest and his stomach stretched the tank top a little bit. He had several tattoos on both of his arms. I could see his dark curly chest hair spilling out over the neck of his tank top.

I couldn't tear my eyes away from him. I felt my dick start to expand in my jeans and I was very glad that my t-shirt was hanging low enough to cover my crotch. I looked into his eyes and saw that he was staring at me. I got flustered and dropped the scissors on the floor. I cleared my throat and picked them up and he pulled out a chair and sat down.

I draped the towel around him so that he wouldn't get covered in hair. I took the scissors and began cutting off big chunks of his beard. Being this close to him made my dick start to leak.

"You smell good," I whispered.

He chuckled. "That's the free shower gel and shampoo from the motel."

I smelled the clean scent of the shampoo and soap, but it was more than that. He had a musky, manly smell that was doing things to me that I've never felt before. I just smiled at him and kept cutting until I got down to a point where I could use the beard trimmer. I adjusted the guard to a quarter inch length and turned it on. I slowly moved up and across his beard with the trimmer.

"You're looking better already," I said. "Lift up your chin."

I took off the guard and then cleaned up under his neck. I held his face in my hands and moved him so he was looking straight ahead. His freshly trimmed beard tickled my fingers. His skin was warm. I felt the jolts travel through my arms and straight to my groin. My dick pulsed and leaked another blob of pre-come into my briefs.

He stared into my face as I lined up my fingers on either cheek. I ran the trimmer up his cheeks and shaped up the top of his beard. I put my fingers on his face and checked the symmetry.

"Perfect," I said with a smile.

He looked up at my face.

"That felt nice, Danny. Thank you. Can you cut my hair, too?"

"Oh, no, you should go to a professional for that. Unless you want a buzz cut."

"Go ahead. Buzz it all off."

"Are you sure?"

"Don't worry. If you fuck it up, it'll grow back."

We both laughed and I said, "Okay. Last chance to back out... Here goes..."

I grabbed the scissors and began cutting off his hair. Once I got it cut down, I set the guard back to a quarter inch and began buzzing. I took off the guard and shaped up the sides and over his ears. I took off the towel and shook it off and smoothed down the back of his neck with my hand. I turned on the trimmer and neatened up his neck line and cleaned up the hair on the back of his neck.

I wiped his neck with the towel. I could see the top of a tattoo on his back and I used my index finger and pulled the tank top away slightly to look at it. He had KELLOGG, his last name, spelled in Old English script curved across the top of his back.

"You like that?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah," I said. My voice quivered and I quickly let go of his shirt.

"I saw you looking at my ink earlier. Maybe some day I'll tell you about them."

"Okay," I said. I cleared my throat. "You're all done. Come on. Come check it out."

He followed me into the bathroom and stood in front of the mirror. He ran his hand over his beard and his head.

"Christ. I look like a different person."

"You look really good."

He did. His beard and hair were nicely shaped up. You could see his mouth better. His lips were red and full. Even his eyes stood out more.

"You should probably get a pro to do your hair next time," I said. "But this will work for now."

"You did good, Danny."

We stared at each other through the mirror for a few more seconds. His eyes started to glaze over and I saw the tears pooling.

"Why are you so nice to me?" he whispered.

"Because you deserve it."

He drew in a deep breath and then let it go. Then he grabbed me and pulled me in for a hug. I melted into his arms and laid my head on his chest and closed my eyes and held onto him. I could feel his beard tickling my neck. His lips brushed the side of my neck. I realized how tall he was then as we held each other. He had to be about 6'4".

I was feeling things for Moose that I didn't feel with Leo. I really liked Moose as a friend from his letters, but standing here with me, in his arms, I realized that I liked him a whole lot more than that.

God, I wanted him to kiss me. I wanted him to make love to me.

I felt something stir and push into my stomach. I drew in a sharp ragged breath when I realized that it was his dick. Moose realized what was happening at the same time and he quickly pulled back from me.

He wouldn't look me in the eye as we walked back into the kitchen.

"Can I get some more water?" he asked.

"Of course."

While he filled his glass, I went and got the broom and dust pan and swept up the hair clippings in the kitchen. He helped me sweep the hair up into the dust pan and I dumped it into the trash.

"Well, I should get going," he said.

"You're not going to stay for dinner?"

I looked up at the clock and realized that Leo was on his way.

"Leo is coming over for dinner," I added. "He should be here any minute. You can meet him."

"No, I should--"

Leo tapped on the front door as he opened it.

"Danno?" he called out.

"In the kitchen, Leo."

Leo walked in and stiffened when he saw Moose. "Who's this?" he asked.

"Leo, this is Moose. My pen pal."




Salvation



They shook each others hands and sized each other up. I shifted nervously.

Leo stared Moose in the eye while he addressed me. "You taking in another stray, Danny? I think you got enough dogs around here."

I gasped in horror. "Leo!"

Moose narrowed his eyes at Leo, then turned to me. "I'd better get going, Danny. Thanks for the trim."

"Wait," I said. "Are you sure you won't stay for dinner?"

"I'm sure he's got places to be, Danny," Leo said. "We don't want to keep him."

I ignored Leo. "When will I see you again?" I asked Moose.

Moose glanced at Leo. "I'm not sure, Danny. I don't know for sure if I'll stick around."

He walked to the front door and opened it. He was about to leave and I just knew he wasn't ever coming back. The thought made my stomach wrench.

"Wait!" I called out.

Moose stopped and turned back to me. I ran to my messenger bag and pulled out one of my business cards.

I gave him the card and said, "Be at this address at nine tomorrow. I can get you a job. Please."

He took the card and put it into his pocket.

"I'll think about it. Bye, Danny."

I watched him get into his beat up pickup truck and drive away.

I sighed and shut the door. I turned around and Leo was standing directly in front of me. I felt a flash of pain on my left cheek as he slapped me across the face.

"You fucking slut," he growled.

Bandit and Harley jumped up and surrounded Leo and barked and growled at him. Harley bared his teeth and snarled while Bandit barked loudly.

"How dare you humiliate me like that?!" he shouted at me. "Did he fuck you?"

I was pissed. How dare he talk to me like that! Leo was not the guy I thought he was.

"Get out of my house," I told him.

I started to open the front door, but he slammed it shut.

"I got a right to know! Did he fuck you?! 'Cause you sure as hell looked like you wanted it."

Leo grabbed my arm and jerked it. I pulled my arm free and shoved him backwards as hard as I could and stormed past him.

"Don't you walk away from me!" he demanded.

Leo moved to follow me, but Harley growled and snapped at him.

"Get the fuck back!" Leo shouted and kicked at Harley.

I walked into the kitchen and grabbed the knife off the counter.

"Don't you fucking touch my dogs!" I shouted as I held the knife out at him.

Leo laughed at me and shook his head. "You gotta be fucking kidding me. When your new ex-con boyfriend's used you up and thrown you away, don't come crawling back to me, bitch."

"Don't worry. I don't want to ever see you again. Now, get out!"

Harley barked and growled again and moved forward. Leo backed up to the front door.

"Fuck you," he spat at me as he slammed the door behind him.

I let out a deep breath and walked back to the kitchen. I slumped into the chair that Moose sat in earlier and laid my head on the table. I took a deep breath and sat up. I did the right thing by dumping Leo. I should have done it earlier. I nodded and smiled to myself and got up and fixed myself dinner.

***

"Absolutely not!" Dad shouted.

"Shh! He'll hear you," I said as I shut my office door.

"I am not giving him a job."

"Dad. Please. He just needs a break. I can personally vouch for him."

"I am not bringing an alcoholic ex-con onto my crew, and that's final."

"Dad. He doesn't drink anymore. And you know I wouldn't ask if I didn't think he could do the work. He's my friend. He's not the same person he was ten years ago. He's got a good heart. I promise you, he'll work hard. Just give him a chance. Please."

Dad's expression softened a little, but he didn't say anything.

"It's important to me," I continued, my voice lowering a little. "I got into a fight with Leo over this and we broke up. He didn't understand, but I know you do. Just give him a chance, Dad. If he doesn't work out, then you can let him go. I'm just asking for a chance. Please. For me."

I sniffled and a tear fell down my cheek. I quickly wiped it away. He let out a soft sigh. Dad caved in.

"One chance. He fucks up and he's gone. It's the least I can do for getting rid of that dick Leo."

I frowned. "Why didn't you tell me you didn't like Leo?"

"Because he was your boyfriend and I didn't think it was my place to tell you that I thought you were settling."

I sighed. "Well, that's in the past now. Thanks, Dad. You won't regret it."

Dad scoffed. "I already do."

Dad opened the door and stepped into the hallway.

"You," he shouted. "Marvin. Moose. Whatever your name is. Get in here."

Moose stepped into my office and he looked between the two of us.

Dad folded his arms across his chest and stared Moose down. "Danny will get your paperwork started. I'll be in the back when you're ready to go. You'll ride with me today. Try to keep up. Oh, and if I even smell so much as cough syrup on your breath, you're out on your ass."

"Dad!" I gasped.

"No, sir," Moose said deferentially. "I won't let you down, sir. You have my word."

Dad grunted and walked out.

"I'm so sorry for that," I said.

Moose shrugged. "It's okay."

I picked up a clipboard and grabbed the new hire paperwork. Moose gave me a small smile and sat down in one of the chairs front of my desk. I handed him the clipboard with an application and all of the other paperwork he had to fill out.

He took a few minutes to complete everything and then handed me the clipboard. I looked everything over and smiled. "You're ready to go. Dad will get you your gear and stuff."

"Thanks, Danny. I mean it. Thanks."

I squeezed his arm. "You're welcome."

I escorted him out back and handed him off to Dad, who started to explain how we ran things. I stayed back and checked out Moose while Dad got him set up with his high-viz vest, gloves and hard hat.

He looked really good. He was big and brawny. And that beard looked good on him all trimmed up. He looked especially hot in his hard hat. It went well with his jeans and work boots. He glanced at me as he followed Dad to their truck. I gave him a little smile and I waved.

By the end of the day, I was going crazy. When I saw Dad walk past my office with Moose, I hopped up and walked out to the hallway.

"See you tomorrow, sir," Moose said to Dad.

Dad grunted and turned and walked into his office.

I caught up to Moose and walked with him to the side door that led to where the employees all parked.

"So, how was it?" I asked him.

"It was good. The work was hard, but I liked it. But your Dad does not like me. I'm not sure if it's going to work out."

I smiled. "Give him time to get to know you. He'll come around."

"I doubt it."

I stopped at the side door and shuffled my feet nervously.

"Do you want to go and get dinner?" I asked.

"I'm really beat, Danny. I'm gonna go back and crash. Thanks for the offer."

"Oh. Yeah. Of course."

"And thanks for getting me the job. Really."

"You're welcome."

He pushed through the door and was gone. I walked back to my office and slumped into my chair. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

I got up and walked to Dad's office and sat down in one of his guest chairs.

"Hey, buddy. What's up?" he asked.

"I just wanted to see how Moose did."

"Fine," he grumbled.

"Just fine?"

"Yeah. He was... acceptable."

He looked back down at his papers and began writing.

I was starting to get really annoyed. "Okay, Dad. Whatever."

I pushed up out the chair and stormed back to my office. I sat down at my desk and buried my face in my hands.

I heard my door shut and I looked up as Dad came in and leaned back against the door.

"Son. I know you want to help this guy. I know you think you know him, but you don't. You can't be his personal savior."

"I know, Dad. But if I can help him, then I'll do whatever I can. I'm the only person he has that he can call a friend. He deserves a second chance."

Dad sighed. "I'm just trying to protect you. But I can't fault you for having such a generous heart. You get that from your mom, God rest her soul."

Dad pushed up from the wall and walked around my desk. "C'mere."

I got up from my chair and he grabbed my arm and pulled me into a hug. He ruffled my hair and kissed the top of my head.

"Dad. I'm 32 years old. When are you going to stop doing that?" I joked.

"When you stop being my little boy."

I laughed and gave him a little shove with my shoulder.

***

Moose finished out the week fine. By the end of the week, Dad wasn't such a complete asshole to him, but I would definitely not go so far to say that he was friendly.

He seemed to get along okay with the other guys as well, though he mostly kept to himself. I heard from some of the others that he worked really hard and always went the extra mile. "Trying to impress the old man," one guy said.

I tried to catch up with him before he left on Friday, but he snuck out without me realizing it.

In fact, he seemed to be avoiding me. All week, whenever I looked for him, he wasn't around. After work, he would leave without a word.

By the end of two weeks, I wasn't going to let him get away this time. Being payday Friday, it was the perfect excuse. I held back his paycheck in my office and told Dad to have him stop by after his shift because I needed him to fill something out before I printed it.

I was at my desk writing out some AP checks when I heard a knock on the door. I looked and smiled at Moose.

"You needed to see me, Danny?"

"Yup. Can you shut the door?"

He nodded nervously and shut the door behind him. He wiped his hands on his pants and sat down in one of the chairs in front of my desk. He pulled his hard hat off and ran his hand over his hair. He held his hat on his lap and nervously scratched at his beard.

I opened my desk drawer and pulled an envelope out and got up and sat down in the other chair next to him. I handed him the envelope containing his paycheck.

"Here's your check."

He looked confused for a second. "There wasn't a problem?"

"No. I just wanted to talk to you for a minute.... Have you been avoiding me? Because it seems like you have."

He looked down at his feet, but didn't speak.

Apparently he was avoiding me. I cleared my throat. "Okay. Um. Well, uh, that's all I wanted."

I wanted him to leave before I started to cry. I quickly got up and sat back down behind my desk. I turned my chair around to my file cabinet and opened it up and pretended to look busy.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

I squeezed my eyes shut and my shoulders started to shake. Closing my eyes didn't help. The tears poured down my cheeks faster than I could wipe them away.

"Danny. Please don't cry," he said with a shaky voice.

He was standing behind me. My face turned red in humiliation as I wept like a baby in front of him. "I thought you were my friend. Just go."

"I didn't want to," he said quietly. "Your dad... he told me to stay away from you."

I turned around and looked up at him. He had tears running down his cheeks. He sniffled and wiped his nose with his sleeve.

"I didn't want to," he repeated. "Please, don't cry."

I stood up and I threw myself at him and hugged him tight as I tried to get my tears in check. He hugged me back and his arms felt so good around me.

"Will you go to dinner with me tonight?" I asked.

"I don't think that would be a good idea. What if your Dad sees us?"

"He can't stop us from being friends."

"Well... Okay. Just as friends."

"Okay. Pick me up at my house at 8:00," I said.

I patted his back and he patted mine and we separated. He wiped his face and blew his nose. He tossed the tissue into the trash can. He turned away from me and tried to discreetly adjust his dick in his jeans, but I noticed. He walked to the door and gave me a smile before he left.

When I got home, I went to the bathroom and pulled off my clothes. I took a nice, warm shower and scrubbed everywhere as clean as I could get it. I wanted to make sure that I was squeaky clean for Moose. Just in case.

I was a nervous wreck waiting for 8:00 to come around. When I heard his rumbling truck pulling up at 7:45, I slipped on my shoes. He rang the doorbell and I opened the door and let him in.

The dogs came running up when the doorbell rang, naturally. Moose squatted down and played with both of them.

He stood back up and looked me up and down. "You look nice, Danny."

"Thanks. So do you."

We were both dressed in jeans and boots. I had on a polo shirt and Moose had a faded red plaid flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up.

We gave each other a quick hug and then headed out. He wanted to drive, so I got into the passenger seat of his old truck. I gave Moose quick directions to the Chinese restaurant on the other side of town.

"Did you get your check cashed okay?" I asked him.

"Yeah. It's nice to have some spending money. I was getting low. You guys pay pretty good, you know that?"

"Yeah. We try to attract good talent and hard workers. How do you like it so far?"

"I like it. I used to paint houses before, you know... This is much better. It's harder work, though."

"I'm glad you like it. I've heard that you're doing really well."

"Really? Your dad didn't say that, did he?"

"No. Some of the other guys. You're apparently showing some of them up."

"I don't know about all that," he said modestly.

We pulled into the Chinese restaurant and parked the truck. We walked inside and Moose asked for a table for two. We were seated at a booth and we read over the menus.

"Hey, Moose? Do you want to do family style?"

He gave me a questioning look like he didn't know what I meant.

"We can order a couple things and share them," I explained.

"Yeah. That sounds great, Danny."

We ordered three different dishes and spring rolls for appetizers.

"So, why aren't you out with your boyfriend?" he asked.

I furrowed my brow at him. "I broke up with Leo. That night you came over."

"I know I'm supposed to tell you that I'm sorry... but I'm not. I'm glad you dumped him. I suspect he didn't treat you as good as you deserved."

I smiled. "Yeah. I'm not sorry either. I should have done it a long time ago. I still can't believe my dad told you to stay away from me."

"He's just worried about you."

"I don't need him to do that. I can take care of myself. I should tell him off... But then he'd only make things miserable for you."

"Yeah, and I'd really like to keep my job. And my nuts," he chuckled and I laughed with him.

After we finished dinner, we headed back to my house.

"Do you want to come in?" I asked when he pulled in front of the house and parked.

"I don't know, Danny. I'd better not."

I took his hand and scooted closer to him. I leaned in and gave him a hug.

"Okay, then," I said. "I had a good time, Moose. Thanks. Say, do you want to come over for dinner tomorrow? I'll cook. I'm a pretty good cook. And I'd really like it if you came over. We could watch a movie. I have a bunch of DVDs. Or we can rent something. Oh, geez, I'm babbling. I'm just really nervous. I'm not normally this dorky. I--"

Moose started to laugh. "Okay, okay. I'll come over for dinner tomorrow. Do you need me to bring anything?"

"Nope. Just come over at 6:00."

I leaned in and kissed his cheek. With a soft laugh, I got out of the truck and went inside.

***

I spent all afternoon Saturday cleaning the house. We were having a beef roast for dinner, so I got that started and in the oven ahead of time so that it would be ready between 6:30 and 7:00.

Moose arrived just after 6:00. I let him in and gave him a hug. Harley and Bandit demanded that Moose give them some attention. Whiskers even made an appearance before disappearing.

Moose was wearing a blue button-down shirt. It looked like an auto mechanic's shirt and even had a patch with the name Moose on it.

"I like your shirt," I told him.

I ran my hand over the name patch and gave him a smile. He smiled at me and shook his head.

"Dinner will be ready soon," I said. "Sit down and relax."

Moose got down on the floor and played with the dogs while I went to the kitchen and checked on dinner. I got everything ready to serve and set the kitchen table.

I walked back to the living room and saw that Moose was on his hands and knees. He was laughing at Harley, who was crouched down in front of him. Harley growled and bounced back and forth, side to side, then ran around Moose in circles as fast as he could. He crouched back down and barked at him, then ran around him again.

"I've never seen Harley play like that," I said with a giggle.

"He's a great dog," Moose said as he pushed up onto his feet with a grunt.

He followed me into the kitchen and we sat down at the table to eat.

"This is great, Danny," Moose said after his first bite.

"I'm glad you like it," I said with a smile. "I had to learn to cook after mom died. This is one of Dad's favorites."

"Well, it's fucking fantastic."

I smiled, very happy that I could make a homemade meal for him that he enjoyed.

After dinner, we took our drinks and sat down on the couch in the living room. I looked down at his right arm. He had the word 'MOOSE' tattooed underneath the hair on the inside of his forearm. He saw me looking and turned his arm so I could see better. I ran my hand over the letters. I felt Moose's arm quiver under my touch.

"I have a tattoo," I said.

I pulled up my left sleeve and showed him my Superman tattoo.

"I know. It's kind of lame," I said.

"It's not lame."

"Yeah, well, I got it with my boyfriend Silas. He reminded me of Superman. He looks like Superman, well, more like Clark Kent. And 'S' for Silas. He dumped me before it healed. That's what makes it lame. I've never told anyone that before. Dad thinks I got it because I like comic books."

I took a sip of my pop and put it back on the coffee table. I let out a deep breath and moved closer to Moose. I put my hand on his and gave him a small kiss on his shoulder.

"I'm glad you're here," I whispered.

"Me, too."

I looked up at him and we moved closer. Our heads moved closer and closer and I closed my eyes as his lips pressed into mine. Our passion ignited and we devoured each other. I pressed back into him and kissed him hard. His hand gripped the back of my head as his tongue pushed into my mouth. I whimpered and playfully tried to keep my tongue away from him. He pursued it, demanding that I give it to him.

When we finally broke the long kiss, I opened my eyes and looked into his. His eyes seemed to be swirling with emotions. I ran my hand along his bearded face and gave him a gentle kiss.

"Come to bed with me," I whispered.

I stood up and held out my hand. He hesitated for a second, but then took my hand and stood up. He followed me back to my bedroom and I shut the door behind us.

I pulled back the comforter and sheet and moved onto the bed. Moose hesitated again, then got into bed with me. We laid on the pillows facing each other.

He reached up and ran his hand over my head, stroking my hair. His finger traced along my beard, then ran across my lips.

"You're beautiful," he whispered.

I smiled at him and leaned in and brushed my lips against his. Our kisses grew from tender to passionate. Our hands ran all over each other. When his hand slipped under my shirt and ran up my back, I moaned softly into his mouth and my body shuddered. His hands were rough and calloused, but his touch was tender and loving.

"Your skin is so soft," he said.

Our tongues intertwined and explored each other while my hands moved to his shirt. I unbuttoned each button and he helped me pull it off and toss it to the floor. I grabbed his tank top and pulled it up. He sat up and tossed it onto the floor. He pulled my shirt off and then laid back down next to me.

I groaned as I ran my hand over his hairy chest and stomach. He had a barrel chest with firm pecs. His belly was soft and rounded out a little. All covered in dark curly hair. I raked my fingers through the hair, loving the sensations as it tickled my finger tips.




Salvation



I ran my fingers all over his tattooed arms. I squeezed his beefy biceps. His hands ran all over my chest and back. He rubbed the light smattering of brown hair on my chest. He tweaked and lightly pinched my nipples, causing me to whimper and tremble. His meaty hand moved to my back and slid down. It kept going, sliding under the waistband of my jeans and briefs.

His mouth kissed along my jaw, then down to my neck. I wrapped one hand around his head and moaned. He sucked and licked up and down my neck. I reached down to his belt with my other hand and unbuckled and unzipped. I struggled to get his jeans down until he raised his butt up and helped me push them down. He tossed them onto the floor and then leaned over me and unzipped my pants. I lifted up and he tugged them off and tossed them aside.

I looked up at him and grabbed the waistband of my black briefs and slid them down, then pulled off my socks. I reached for his boxer shorts and I slid them down his legs. I pulled off his socks and got rid of them.

I laid back down facing him. We were both completely naked now. Our eyes looked up and down our bodies. I hoped he liked what he saw. I know I did.

His cock was uncut. The foreskin was darker than the rest of his skin. A vein ran along his length. The red, angry, swollen head was nearly completely exposed. He was about seven inches long and so very thick. Thicker than I had ever seen before.

I looked down at my own average sized cock. The six inches throbbed and a drop of pre-come oozed out and dripped in a string to the bed. He looked down at me and swallowed nervously.

I pushed him onto his back and moved next to him. "Relax. Let me make you feel good, Moose."

I kissed his shoulder and chest. I rubbed his soft belly with my hand, then moved down. I slid it under his red hot dick, running my fingertips through the furry nest at the base. Moose stifled a loud groan. He was breathing in shallow gasps.

"It's been a really long time, Danny," he whispered.

I kissed my way down his chest and belly. I wrapped my hand around his rod. He was so hard in my hand, but his foreskin was velvety soft. He was so thick that I still had over half an inch before my thumb and index fingers could touch.

I looked up at Moose's face. He was staring down at me with lust in his eyes.

"Do you want me to?" I asked softly.

"If you want to."

"I want to."

His hand moved to the back of my head. I pulled back the foreskin, exposing the now purple swollen head. I flicked my tongue across the tip, pushing it into the little opening. He smelled and tasted so good that my mouth was watering. I wrapped my lips around him and sunk down. He was so thick, it stretched my mouth wider than anyone ever has.

I bobbed my head up and down nice and slow, while gently sucking. I swirled my tongue around the shaft and head.

I could tell he was struggling to be quiet. I looked up at him. "Relax, Moose. You don't have to hold back."

Moose was panting and breathing heavy as I took his cock back into my mouth. He let out a loud groan and thrust his hips up, trying to get me to move faster. I couldn't get much more than half of him into my mouth, so I used my hand to stroke up and down what I couldn't suck. I increased speed of my hand and mouth and sucked a little bit harder. Moose was grunting and groaning loudly. His hips bucked up.

Moose's body trembled. "Danny... I'm gonna come..."

I kept going, a little faster. I gave my hand a good twist.

"Pull off... I'm coming now, baby! Oh fuck!"

Moose's his legs tensed and his toes curled. His cock swelled and stiffened and then jerked in my mouth. With a loud groan I felt the first blast of his come shoot into my mouth and I swallowed it. He spurt over and over, grunting and shuddering with each blast. I didn't think he would ever stop shooting, but I kept sucking until he did. I swallowed one more time, then licked all over his dick. I didn't want any of his sperm to go to waste, it tasted so good. He softened only slightly and I let him fall out of my mouth onto his belly.

I moved up next to him and he pushed me onto my back. I was so hard that my dick physically ached. I held my breath as his hand slid down my body. He wrapped his hand around my dick and started stroking, causing me to softly gasp. His tongue licked at my nipple. He sucked it into his mouth and tongue it and scraped it with his teeth.

"Moose, don't stop," I whimpered. "Feels so good..."

Moose moved down my chest and stomach.

Oh god, if he takes me into his mouth, I think I might die.

His tongue hesitantly flicked over my dick. He took the head into his mouth and he bobbed up and down the first couple inches, afraid to choke. It was enough for me.

"Oh... I'm gonna... Now," I moaned.

He pulled his mouth off my dick, and slobbered his mouth and tongue up and down my shaft. I cried out and gripped the sheets with my fists. The first jet of come smacked me right on the mouth. The second splattered onto my chin. The rest shot out onto my chest and stomach.

I laid there panting and quivering. I looked down at him and smiled a goofy grin. He chuckled and kissed my softening penis. I watched as he slowly leaned into my body and hesitantly flicked his tongue over a small pool of my come. He swallowed it and then licked his lips. He looked up at me and smirked.

"Not bad," he said.

He licked the rest of it up, moving up my body, cleaning every drop of my come. He licked my chin and my lips, then kissed me.

I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him down to me. He rested his weight on me, being careful not to smother me. He looked down at me for moment and opened his mouth to speak. He suddenly pulled back and rolled over onto his back and stared at the ceiling.

I turned onto my side and cuddled up next to him and put my hand on his belly.

"Are you okay?" I asked as I gently rubbed a little circle on his furry tummy.

He turned and looked at me. He looked so sad that it broke my heart.

"Why, Danny?" he asked.

"Why what?"

"Why are you so good to me? I don't deserve it."

"I wish you would stop saying that," I said. "You deserve to be happy. I want so much to make you happy."

I laid my head on his chest and hugged him.

"I would do anything to make you happy," I said quietly. "I wish you could love yourself as much as I love you."

I closed my eyes and let the tears flow.

Moose's arms wrapped around me and I felt his body tremble. I looked up and saw him crying. I reached up and wiped the tears from his cheeks. I held his face in my hands and I pressed my mouth to his.

"I do love you, Marvin."

"I love you, too, Danny."

He opened his eyes and he smiled at me. Some of the sadness was gone, but I wondered if he truly believed me.

"C'mere, big guy."

I pulled at him and got him to turn onto his side facing me.

I kissed him and he hungrily kissed me back. I cuddled closer to his big body. I could feel his cock stiffening until it pressed into my groin. I pushed my own hard dick against him. His hand moved up and down my back. He squeezed and rubbed my ass cheeks.

"Make love to me, Moose," I whispered into his lips.

"Are you sure?"

"God, yes. There's stuff in the drawer there."

Moose opened the nightstand drawer and found a bottle of lube and a condom.

He looked sheepish and shy. "I've never..."

"You've been with girls before? It's the same thing."

He looked down at my crotch. "I've been with a lot of girls and none of them had a cock."

We both laughed.

"Well, the back part is the same," I said. "Did you ever, you know, do anal with a girl?"

"No. No girl would take it. I guess I'm kind of big."

I smiled at him. "Yeah. It's big. Use your fingers and the lube to get me stretched and ready."

"I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't hurt me. I trust you."

Moose moved on top of me and I spread my legs for him. He knelt between my legs and looked down at me. He opened the lube and poured it onto his fingers. He rubbed his fingers into my crack and across my anus. I gasped and let out a soft moan.

He looked into my face for signs of pain as he slid his thick, calloused finger into me. I closed my eyes and sighed. I have been wanting this for so long. He slowly pumped his finger into me.

"Put another finger in," I moaned.

I had two of Moose's thick fingers in me. He stretched and twisted and turned.

"Moose... Oh god... Curl your fingers forward..."

Moose curled his fingers in as he pulled out and he rubbed against my prostate, causing me to gasp. He rubbed it and then pushed into it.

"Oh! Moose!" I cried out. "Please!"

"Right there? Like that, baby?" he growled.

I gripped the sheets with my fists. "Yes..."

He kept rubbing and pushing my prostate as he thrust in and out. He pulled out his fingers and slipped in a third. I was panting and pushing back against him.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Yes."

He rolled the condom onto his cock and coated it with lube. I started to turn over onto my belly.

"No, Danny. I want to see your face while I make love to you."

I couldn't trust myself to speak for fear of becoming emotional. I laid back and simply nodded. I grabbed my legs and pulled them back to my chest and let out a deep breath.

"Just pretend like I'm a girl," I smiled. "You'll figure it out."

"I don't want to pretend. You're the only one I want to be with."

He bent down and kissed me as he lined his dick up with my ass. He slowly pushed and the head of his cock into my tight opening.

I buried my face in his neck and tried not to cry out in pain. He was much thicker than any of my previous lovers. I gripped his back tight and locked my thighs around his waist.

"Are you okay, Danny? Do you want me to pull out?"

"I'm okay. Just another couple seconds..."

Moose kissed along my neck, holding still for a few moments. He moaned into my ear. "I need to move, baby."

"Go slow."

Moose slowly pushed into me. He groaned loudly as he slid into me. I gasped at his thickness. It hurt a little, but it felt so good at the same time.

"Moose," I breathed.

"Fuck, baby," he groaned. "Your pussy is so hot and so tight-- I mean, your ass."

I looked up at him and we both cracked up and laughed really hard. He looked down at me and smiled and said, "Sorry."

He held my head in his hands and kissed me as he pulled his cock out and slid back in. I moaned around his tongue as he pushed in again. When he rubbed against my prostate, I moaned and my entire body shuddered. Moose saw my response and made sure he hit it with every thrust.

He broke the kiss and I drew in a gasping breath. "Oh god..."

"You feel so good, baby... I love you, Danny..."

I whimpered and pushed back up into him.

"Can you take it harder, baby?" he husked.

"Yes, please, Moose... I need it so bad."

Moose pulled out and thrust hard into me. I gripped his shoulders tight as he pumped harder and harder into me. He sucked on my neck as he pounded my ass with his fat cock. The head jabbed into my prostate with each thrust.

"Yes, oh, yes!" I cried. "Harder..."

"Fuck, Danny! So good, baby..."

His hairy belly rubbed against my dick and I pushed back against him with every thrust.

"Moose! I'm gonna come! Please don't stop! Make me come! Please!"

I arched my back up and clawed at Moose's back. My eyes rolled back into my head and I exploded, pulsing jets of hot semen between our bodies. My ass clamped down on Moose's rod and contracted.

"Jesus fucking Christ! Danny! You're squeezing-- FUCK!"

Moose pushed into me and his body shook and shuddered. I felt his dick throbbing inside me. He lost control of his arms and he fell on top of me, his body still trembling from his intense orgasm.

"Not the same," he panted.

I let my cramping legs fall to the bed. Moose pushed back and kissed me hard.

"You're fucking out of this world," he panted. "That was nothing like fucking a girl."

"I hope it was better," I joked.

He nipped my chin with his teeth. "Only slightly."

I chuckled. "I love you."

"I love you, Danny. I think I've been in love with you since you sent me the letter with your picture. I still carry your picture in my wallet. You don't know how much your letters meant to me. How they helped get me through..."

Moose's voice choked. I brought my hands up to his face and let him know how much I loved him with a look. He took a deep breath and pulled out of me. He pushed back onto his knees and pulled the overflowing rubber off his cock. He tied it up and tossed it into the garbage bin next to my nightstand. He got back into bed and pulled me to him.

"Why did you stop writing me?" I asked quietly as I stroked the hair in the middle of his chest, where it was the thickest.

"Because you were dating someone and I didn't want to get in the way."

"When you stopped writing, I worried about you. I didn't know if something happened to you, or if I did something wrong... It hurt."

"I'm sorry. I didn't think that you would... I thought since you met someone, you wouldn't think of me anymore."

"It's okay. It's all in the past. We have each other now."

My eyes started to droop.

"Stay the night with me, Moose."

I cuddled into his chest and tightened my arm around him.

"Night, my Danny," he whispered as he kissed the top of my head.

***

The next morning, I woke with a groan. I opened my eyes to see Moose looking at me with a smile on his face. My arms and legs were tangled up in his.

"Hi," I said.

"Hi," he chuckled. "You're cute as fuck when you sleep, you know that?"

I ignored his embarrassing compliment. "Did you sleep okay?"

"Yeah. I don't sleep much," he said. He had a far off look for a moment, then turned back to me and smiled. He chuckled, then added, "Every time I moved or turned, you cuddled up closer to me."

I blushed and groaned in embarrassment. "Sorry."

"No, it was cute. I liked it. How are you feeling this morning?"

"Good."

"You're not... uh... sore?"

"Oh. No, I'm fine. I feel good, actually."

He ran his hand down my back and cupped my ass. He shifted and his hard cock pressed into me. Oh god, he wanted me again.

I rolled onto my back, pulling him on top of me. He reached into the drawer and pulled out a condom. He lubed up his fingers and pushed two into me and pushed into my prostate. I gasped and looked up at him.

"Oh god... Moose..."

I was still loose enough that his three fingers slid into me without much discomfort. He rolled the condom onto his fat cock and lined it up and gave a gentle but firm push.

I moaned as he slid home. He pushed back onto his knees. He grabbed my ankles and held them up and out. He pulled his hips back and then pushed forward. He changed his angle a couple of times and found my prostate. My body shuddered and I moaned.

"There's the spot," he smirked.

I looked up at him, my face pleading with him, "Please, Moose..."

He swiveled his hips, alternating between short strokes and long strokes, fast strokes then slow strokes. He started pounding me hard and fast, in and out as deep as he could. His hips loudly smacked against my ass and the headboard banged against the wall.

"Moose, oh god, Moose! I'm gonna come, Moose! You're making me come! OH GOD! MOOSE!!"

My back arched and my body tensed up and I exploded. My warm come pulsed between our bodies. After five spurts, I fell back into the bed, my body quivering uncontrollably. Moose never stopped pumping and within seconds, he went over the edge.

"Aw fuck, baby! I'm coming!"

After his body stopped convulsing and his dick stopped pulsing, Moose let go of my legs and fell on top of me. He kissed my chest and my neck and gave me a quick kiss on the lips.

Moose smelled his armpit and crinkled his nose. "I need a shower."

"Me too. You wanna shower together?" I asked.

We got up out of bed and got into the shower. I grabbed the shower gel and a washcloth and started to soap and wash him. He looked down at me in surprise.

"Let me take care of you," I whispered. "You never had anyone wash you before?"

I ran the washcloth over each of his arms and all over his furry chest and stomach. I liked the way the soap suds clung to his curly body hair. I ran the cloth up both sides to his armpits. I gave him a little tickle in his armpit, but he didn't flinch.

"I'm not ticklish," he smiled.

I gave him a shy smile as I started to wash his dick. He reached down and pulled his foreskin back and I got him nice and clean. I squatted down and washed all over his legs. I had him turn around and I washed his back and his butt. I ran my hand across the KELLOGG tattoo on his back. I loved that tattoo. It was sexy.

After I rinsed all the soap suds away, I had him turn around to face me and bend forward a little so that I could wash his hair.

"Your turn," he said.

I gave him the washcloth and he did the same for me. When he ran the washcloth up my side, I jumped. When he pressed into my armpit, I squealed and giggled and smacked his hand away from me. He laughed and pinned me against the wall and tickled me until I was begging for him to stop.

He looked at me and smiled, then leaned down and kissed me slowly and passionately until the hot water ran out.

After we dried off, we put our underwear on and went to the kitchen. I started a pot of coffee.

"Let me cook you breakfast, Danny," Moose said as he gave me a kiss on the back of my neck.

"Okay," I grinned. Who would say no to that?

He opened the fridge and dug around. He made us omelets with bacon, mushrooms, onions and cheese and they were easily one of the best things I ever tasted.

After breakfast, we moved to the couch and watched TV. I laid my head on his lap and spent most of the time looking up at him.

He looked down at me. "What? Do I got food on my face?"

I chuckled. "You're really handsome, you know that?"

I reached up and tickled his bearded chin and smiled at him. He rubbed his hand on my head, smoothing down my hair. My eyes drooped and I let out a soft sigh and rubbed my head on his stomach.

"You act like a little kid sometimes," he laughed.

I smiled and shrugged a little. "You like kids?"

"Yeah. I always wanted kids."

"Me, too."

I turned my head and kissed his soft, furry belly and looked back up at him. "I'm so glad you're here."

He looked down at me and I saw the sadness in his eyes for a brief moment. I wished I could make it go away for him.

We lounged around on the couch for a little while and then got up and got dressed.

"What do you want to do today?" I asked. "We can do whatever you want."

"Can we just stay here and watch a movie or something?"

"Sure, Moose. Whatever you want."

***

Moose and I continued to see each other in secret over the next few weeks. I was absolutely crazy about him. He seemed to be coming out of his shell more and more each day. I loved it when he spent the night at my house. We would make love all night long and he would hold me in his arms until I fell asleep. I always fell asleep before him and he was always awake when I woke.

I suspected that he didn't sleep much and I think he had nightmares. On a few occasions, I woke when he suddenly bolted upright in bed. Each time, he would settle back down and hold me until I fell back asleep.

This particular morning, I woke up needing to use the bathroom, so I crawled over Moose and hurried to the bathroom. After I finished on the toilet, I got up and washed my hands and started to brush my teeth.

Moose knocked on the door and opened it. I looked up in the mirror to see him shuffle into the bathroom. He kissed the top of my head and then sat down on the toilet. I looked at him in horror and he kind of chuckled.

"Sorry. I forget sometimes that I'm not... You kind of lose any sense of modesty..."




Salvation



"It's okay," I interrupted, not wanting him to be reminded of his time in prison. "I guess I should be glad that you're that comfortable with me. But I would die if you walked in while I was going to the bathroom. So...."

I rinsed my mouth and left the bathroom, shutting the door behind me. I went to the kitchen and started a pot of coffee and let the dogs out into the back yard.

By the time I got back to the bathroom, Moose was finishing up brushing his teeth. I walked in and turned on the shower. I crinkled my nose at the smell that lingered in the room and he looked at me and laughed. I couldn't help but laugh, too. When he laughed, it was infectious.

I stepped into the shower and I motioned with my index finger for him to join me.

He got into the shower and pushed me against the back wall and kissed me hard. I grabbed at him and pulled him closer. My hard dick pushed into his groin while his quickly stiffened and poked into my stomach.

"I wanna fuck you, Danny," he growled at me.

I nodded frantically. He turned me around so that I was facing the wall. I looked back and watched him grab the shower gel and squirt it into his hand. He smeared it up the crack of my ass and around his fat cock. I braced myself against the wall with my hands.

"Spread your legs."

I obeyed him without question. He moved closer and squatted down slightly and pushed up into me. His thick rod slid into me nice and easy until his furry bush was resting against my smooth ass.

"M-m-moose," I quivered.

Moose grabbed my hips and began pushing in and out of me.

"Jesus fucking Christ, your pussy is tight."

"God, your dick is so fat and hot inside me. Fuck me," I begged.

He gripped me tight and began slamming his cock in and out of me, alternating shallow and long strokes, speeding up and slowing down. He knew exactly where my spot was and he rammed into it with every thrust.

"No, don't stop," I cried out when he pulled out.

He turned me around and put my arms around his neck. He lifted me and pinned me against the back wall. He pushed his hips up and began pounding into me. I gripped him tightly. It felt so good, so amazing. His dick was so hot and so hard.

"Oh god, oh yes!" I panted.

His mouth clamped onto my neck and he sucked hard. My body began quivering and I tripped.

"I'm coming!" I cried out.

My ass clamped onto his fat shaft and squeezed rhythmically as my dick pulsed come in between our wet bodies.

Moose stifled a groan and he came hard with a triumphant shout of my name. His cock thickened even further and it throbbed and jerked inside me. I felt the hot heat of his thick juices pulsing into me and running down my leg.

"Oh god, oh my god," I panted.

Moose stepped back and his cock slipped from my ass. I felt his semen ooze out of me and run down my leg. I laid my head against the shower wall and looked at him through half closed eyes and grinned.

He looked at me in horror. "Danny! I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to... to come inside you."

He started to get upset and I put my arms around him.

"Shh. It's okay, Moose. I promise, it's okay. I would have stopped you if I didn't want it."

"You're the only person I've been with since before... They make us take tests when we go in, so I don't have anything... You know what I mean? I promise."

"It's okay, Moose."

"You're not mad?"

"No. I... I liked it," I blushed. "You felt good inside me."

"Really?"

"Yeah. You're the only one who's ever been inside me like that."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Only you."

"I love you, Danny. Love you so much."

We started kissing and then reluctantly pulled away so that we could get cleaned up before the hot water ran out.

After we showered and dressed, we went to the kitchen and had a cup of coffee. We didn't have time to cook breakfast since we took so long playing in the shower, so we made some toast and and took it with us.

We drove separately to work. We were the first to arrive as normal. It was raining cats and dogs and I ran to the side door as fast as I could and unlocked it. We were both laughing when we got inside. After I tossed my briefcase on my desk, I went to the break room and started the coffee like always. Moose walked in and came up behind me. He put his arms around me and nibbled my neck.

"You've got a hickey," he whispered.

He nibbled on my neck again and I giggled and squirmed against him.

"Fuck, you're making my cock hard," he groaned.

"What the hell are you doing?!" a voice shouted.

I gasped and turned around to see my Dad standing in the doorway.

Dad advanced on us and punched Moose square in the face. Moose stood there and took the punch. I jumped in front of him and pushed Dad back.

"Stop!" I screamed.

Dad was livid. He tried to get around me and get at Moose. "Are you fucking my boy?! You filthy piece of shit!"

"Dad, stop it! Leave him alone!"

"You let this dirty ex-con trash touch you?" he looked at me with disgust, before turning back to Moose. "You ain't good enough for my boy! Fucking murderer!"

I gasped in horror. "Dad, please!"

Dad swung at Moose again and clocked him in the jaw. Moose just stood there.

I started to cry and I pulled Dad away from him.

"You're fired," Dad spat. "Get the fuck out of my building! And if you ever come near my son again, I will fucking kill you!"

Dad lunged for Moose and I had to pull him back. Moose pushed past the crowd that had started to gather and left. I sobbed and looked at Dad.

"How could you?!" I screamed. "I'm in love with Moose. And he loves me. But you don't care. He's a good person, but you don't want to see the person he is inside, the person he's become. You only see what he did all those years ago. I'll never forgive you for this, Dad. Never!"

Dad looked at me with his mouth agape. I shoved past him and ran through the crowd out to the parking lot. Moose's truck was already gone. I got in my car and drove to the motel he was staying at. His truck wasn't there, so I kept going towards my place. He wasn't there either, so I doubled back to the motel.

I pulled into the parking lot of the motel and I ran through the rain into the lobby. I walked up to the elderly woman at the front desk.

"Hi," I panted. "I'm looking for Marvin Kellogg. He's in Room 214. Can you call his room for me?"

"Room 214? Sorry, hon, he checked out."

It felt like she just stabbed me in the gut. I stumbled out of the lobby and let the rain soak me to the bone as I shuffled back to my car.

As I got to my car, Dad's truck pulled in next to me. He pushed open the passenger door.

"Get in, Danny!" he shouted over the rain.

I just stood there shivering looking at him like he was crazy.

"Get in," he repeated.

I got into the truck and he pulled a blanket from under the back seat and wrapped it around me.

"He's gone, Dad," I cried. "You got your wish."

Dad sighed. "I don't understand, son. How could fall in love with that man?"

"You don't know Marvin, Dad. You never took the time to talk to him. He made a mistake a long time ago. Yes, he got drunk and someone died. But it was an accident. He has spent the last ten years beating himself up. He'll never forget or forgive himself for what happened, but that just shows how much he cares and how big his heart is. I would give my life to make it all go away, to let him be happy and at peace."

I looked up at Dad and he stared at me in silence.

"He's a good person, Dad. He deserves to have some happiness. And I think he has that with me."

"You're a smart kid, Danny. And you've got a big heart. I guess I should trust you know what you're doing. You really love this guy?"

"Yes, Dad. I do. He's the one, Dad. The one I want to share my life with."

Dad sighed. "All right. Let's go see if we can find your man."

I looked at Dad and started to cry. "Really?"

He took me in his arms and patted my back.

"I just want you to be happy, son. That's all I ever wanted for you. You forgive me?"

"Yes. Thank you, Dad," I sniffled and hugged him tighter.

We quickly laid out our search plans and I got into my car and we took off. We drove around for a few hours, checking in with each other regularly.

Dad finally called and said it was too dark and raining too hard to continue. I agreed to go home and get some rest.

After hanging up with Dad, I got onto the highway and headed west. I figured he would head towards Chicago. I didn't really have a plan. I just drove.

I drove for about an hour when I saw a truck on the side of the road. It looked like Moose's truck.

'Oh, please, let it be him!' I thought

I pulled up behind it and ran to the passenger side and looked in. He wasn't inside. I touched the hood of the truck and it was cool. I guess it had broken down. I opened the door and pulled out his big duffel bag and put it in the back seat of my car.

I pulled back onto the highway and started driving. I drove for nearly an hour when I saw the big guy on the side of the highway walking. He was hunched down, his jacket over his head. As I approached, he held out his thumb and I pulled over to the side.

I leaned over and pushed open the passenger side door. Moose bent down and looked at me in shock. "Danny?"

"Moose, get in."

He hesitated for a second and then climbed into the car.

"What... What are you doing here?"

"I have been searching for you all day. Why did you leave me?"

I threw my arms around him and sobbed. He brought his arms around me and held me tight.

"Don't you ever do that again, you big dummy!" I said as I shoved him.

I let him go and sniffled and wiped my nose.

"What are you doing here?" he repeated.

"I'm taking you home. But first, you need to get out of those wet clothes. I brought your bag from your truck. Come on, get undressed."

I leaned over into the backseat and unzipped his duffel. I looked back at Moose. He sighed and started to get undressed.

"God... You're soaked, Moose," I said as I took the wet clothing from him.

Moose stripped complete bare. I couldn't help but look at him. He reached into his bag and grabbed a flannel shirt and used it to dry himself off. He pulled out a pair of sweat pants and a sweatshirt and pulled them on.

I turned the heat up to high and put my car in gear and drove up to the next exit. I turned around and headed back east towards home.

"What about your dad, Danny? He was right. I don't deserve you."

"Stop! I don't want to hear that ever again," I said firmly. "I love you and you love me. That should be all that matters."

"Okay," he whispered.

"Crap. I need to call Dad."

I picked up the phone and dialed his number.

"Dad?"

"Danny? You okay?"

"Yeah. I found him. We're on our way home. His truck broke down on the highway."

"The highway? Tell me where and I'll call to get it towed."

I told Dad about where the truck was and we said goodnight and hung up.

"I can't believe you came and got me," he said.

"Why? You think I'm gonna let you get away from me that easy? But the next time I have to come chasing after you... When I find you, I'm gonna cut your dick off."

Moose chuckled and shook his head. "You're bossy when you get pissed."

I looked over at him and laughed.

Once we got home and got the dogs satisfied, I told Moose to take a long, hot shower. While he did that, I cleaned out one side of my closet. I emptied his duffel bag and hung up his clothes. I placed his underwear and t-shirts on the shelves that were supposed to be for linens. I took his dirty and wet clothes and brought them out to the laundry closet.

Moose came out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist as I was loading the washing machine.

"Danny? Where'd you put my clothes?" he asked.

"In the closet."

He walked off to the bedroom. Once I got the washing machine started, I went to the bedroom to check on him. He was standing in the closet staring at his hanging clothes.

"You okay?" I asked.

"Danny..."

"Please, Moose. I want you to stay with me. Please don't leave me."

My eyes filled with tears and he pulled me to him and hugged me tight.

"I won't leave you, baby. I promise."

Moose leaned down and kissed me. I cupped his bearded face in my hands.

"I love you, Marvin."

"I love you, too, Danny."

"Come on. Let me make you something warm to eat."

I went to the kitchen and heated up some chicken noodle soup and made him two grilled cheese sandwiches. I made myself a sandwich and we sat down at the kitchen table and ate our dinner.

"You feeling okay?" I asked.

"I feel great."

We smiled at each other and finished our meal. After we finished, I loaded the dishes into the dishwasher.

I took the dogs outside so that they could go to the bathroom. Once they came back in, I wiped them down with a towel and sent them off to their beds.

"You ready for bed?" I asked Moose.

"Yeah."

I took his hand and we went into the bedroom. I shut the door behind us and led him to the bed. We undressed and climbed into bed and I pulled the covers up over us. We laid on our sides facing each other. Moose's hand moved to my face.

"You're too good to be true," he said. "You saved me, Danny. You saved me."

"You're my soul-mate, Marvin. I love you."

Moose leaned in and kissed me passionately. His tongue pushed into my mouth and he licked at my tongue, beckoning it to play with his. We kissed and made out. I stroked my hands all over his furry body.

I slid down his body and turned around. I wrapped my hand around his shaft and stroked him. I glided his foreskin back and forth over the head. I moaned when I felt Moose's mouth on me. I looked and saw him take me into his mouth. His cheeks hollowed in as he sucked. I dove onto his dick and sucked him hard. I slid down his fat cock until I choked and then drew back. I bobbed up and down on him while he did the same to me.

Just when I was about to come, he pulled off me. He grabbed the lube off the nightstand and pushed me onto my back. He moved between my legs and pushed my legs up to my chest. He shoved his face into my crack and went wild. His tongue and mouth were all over my ass. I cried out and grabbed his head as he swirled his tongue around me, kissing and licking and sucking at my hole. His tongue pushed inside me and I moaned wantonly as I writhed on the bed, lost in ecstasy.

He moved up my dick and took me into his mouth as he pushed his finger into me. He bobbed his head up and down my shaft while he slipped another finger into me.

"I'm coming," I moaned. "Oh god, I'm coming!"

My ass clamped onto Moose's fingers and I came hard into his sucking mouth. He swallowed every drop and I finally had to pull him off my ultra-sensitive dick.

I fell back into the bed as he moved on top of me. I was so relaxed after my climax that he slid right into me with no pain.

He fucked me slowly, but each thrust was hard and intense. I knew he was close to the edge, but trying to hold back. He quickly built up speed.

"Come inside me, Moose," I whispered.

"Oh god, baby!" he called out as his thrusts became erratic. One last shove and he was grunting his release into me.

He rolled off me onto his back. We turned around so that our heads were back at the pillows. I moved up and straddled his hips. I reached behind me and took his still hard cock and I sat back on it. He slid into my slimy tunnel with ease.

I looked down at him with lust in my eyes.

"I love your big dick," I whispered. "I love it inside me. It's the biggest and best I ever had."

"Your ass is so fucking tight, baby. You make me feel so good. I love you so fucking much."

I braced myself onto Moose's belly and slid up and then slammed myself back down.

"Oh god," I groaned.

"Fuck my cock, baby," he growled. "Fuck me, Danny."

He brought his rough and calloused hands up to my chest. He ran his thumbs over my hard nipples, then slid his hands down my body to my hips.

I bounced up and down his fat cock. He gripped my hips tight to guide me as he thrust up into me.

I looked down at him. He was staring at my face, his eyes dark with lust.

"Love... you... Moose," I panted.

"You're so fucking sexy, baby," he voiced, deep and husky. "Fuck, you're gonna make me come."

I grabbed his hand and pushed it towards my cock.

"Moose, please," I whispered.

"You want me to touch you, baby?"

"Yes, please," I cried as I rode him harder, slamming my prostate onto his cock over and over.

"Tell me. Tell me what you want."

"Touch me, Moose. Make me come..."

Moose spit into his hand and wrapped it around my cock. I thrust up into his hand and then slammed back down onto his cock. I did it over and over until I cried out in ecstacy.

"Moose!"

Ropes of hot come ejected from my dick and arced across Moose's chest and stomach. My hole convulsed around his pistoning cock and he grabbed my hips and pulled me down as he slammed up into me.

"FUCK!"

I felt his dick pulsing and throbbing as it spurt jets of hot semen deep inside my hot tunnel. I fell forward onto my big lover and he wrapped his arms around me. He kissed all over my head. I slid off him and crumpled at his side in exhaustion.

Moose got up out of bed and returned with a warm, damp towel. He wiped my chest and stomach down. He gingerly picked up my soft dick and gave it a cleaning. He then ran the towel up between my legs a couple of times. I was half asleep when he came back to bed. He pulled me to him and I looked into his eyes.

They glistened and sparkled. I saw love and joy reflected back at me. The sadness was gone.

I smiled at him and kissed him. He turned onto his side and I rolled over and snuggled back into him. He brought his arm around me and pulled me close.

"I love you, Danny," he whispered as he kissed the top of my head.

"I love you, too."

I felt his breathing slow down and even out. Then he began snoring lightly behind my head.

It was the first time he ever fell asleep before me. In fact, he slept through the entire night and didn't wake up until after I did.

I knew then that he'd be okay. He just needed love. Love can fix anything.



Salvation a la Mode and a Cup of Tea



"Freefall," Rebecca Quinn thought to herself as the elevator lowered her and her Husband down to the lobby of her office building so they could go have lunch together.

"Freefall...That's just what my life feels like right now," she had to stifle a perverse chuckle at the irony of the comparison between the elevator and her place in life.

Rebecca had been married to Neal Quinn for almost 22 years. The first dozen or so had been decent, but there was no mistake the two had drifted apart for the last decade and Rebecca had been having an affair on and off with a man from her office building for past year. 

Part of the marital strain had been each's steadfast pursuit of a career. Rebecca was an ad executive in Manhattan and Neal was a real estate developer in greater New York City area. Despite the fact that their collective careers provided for a relatively lavish existence, there had never been enough time or energy for growth and passion between the two. It wasn't until both their children had gone off to college that Rebecca and Neal realized just how little they shared in common. It was sometime during that realization that Rebecca had began the affair.

In hindsight, Rebecca knew it was a very selfish thing to do, despite the fact that she was sure Neal had strayed several times over the course of their marriage as well. Raised in the church by a very loving and devoted Mother and Father, out of guilt, once the initial thrill of the affair had worn off, Rebecca put an end to it in hopes of maybe trying to re-kindle a spark with her Husband. 

Part of that process was trying to take an active role in getting to know each other all over again and spending time with one another. Trying to coordinate an occasional lunch date with each other was part of that plan, even though Neal hadn't shown much zeal for the idea. 

As the two stood there in the elevator, making their way down to the street to head to an Italian eatery a couple of blocks away, Rebecca was at a loss trying to make small talk with the man she had known for nearly 25 years.

"You're awful quiet," she probed.

"Just got a lot on my mind, we can talk about it at the restaurant," Neal dismissively quipped as the elevator continued it's descent.

__________________________________

What her Husband had told her over lunch had left Rebecca feeling sick to the stomach. While Neal had casually finished his meal as he laid out the sordid details about why the Securities and Exchange Commission might soon be snooping around and asking questions about some of his business dealings, and perhaps even why the FBI might be coming to their house to serve a warrant to look around, Rebecca just sat there stunned, unable to look at the food in front of her. 

"You don't know anything," Neal said firmly between sips of wine.

"Is there anything to know?" she asked.

"There shouldn't be anything now," was his cryptic retort as if saying the less she knew, the better.

Of all the years of Neal being a jerk and a cad, the last thing she thought she would ever hear was that he had done something so egregious, that it might compromise their life and tear the family apart. And all over greed.

"We have everything we could possibly want, and it just isn't enough," Rebecca reconciled to herself.

Knowing the restaurant was the wrong place to make a scene, Rebecca privately cursed her Husband for the gutless act of bringing her to a public place to break the news.

"I've got to get back to the office," Rebecca blandly spoke, nearly drawing blood from the inside of her cheek as she fought to hold her tongue.

"I'll walk you back," Neal added as if nothing had ever happened.

Numb to her surroundings, the thousands of other New Yorkers milling about on the sidewalk were one big blur to Rebecca as she made a bee-line back to her office, her Husband constantly a step or two behind her simmering, deliberate pace.

"Slow down Rebec...," Neal started to say as he reached out to grab her by the arm, seeing the next few seconds playing out before they happened.

BAMMMM

"OH GOD...I'm sorry," Rebecca's voice pierced the din on the street after she had plowed directly into the homeless man on the street who, with his back turned, had no way of avoiding the incensed female ad exec who was trying to stay two steps in front of her Husband. 

"Get out of our way you stupid piece of shit," Neal Quinn gruffly barked at the stocky vagrant his wife had just plowed into before taking his wife by the waist and hustling her forward before the stunned panhandler even knew what happened.

"I was trying to apologize to him," Rebecca spat. "It was my fault not looking where I was was going."

"Don't fucking worry about the Goddamn Bum," Neal gritted his teeth, his penchant for not caring who he runs over showing itself in spades. 

"They ought to get all this garbage off the street," Neal said just loud enough for all the interested parties to hear before disappearing with his wife back into the mass of bustling humanity.

"OH...SHIT," Rebecca growled a few steps later. "I think I left my purse back at the restaurant."

"Are you sure the guy that just ran into you didn't take it?" Neal snapped.

"No," Rebecca groaned, picturing the purse in her mind sitting underneath the outdoor table they were eating at.

"Let me call the place," Neal said as he reached for his phone to call information.

"This wouldn't have happened if you didn't have the audacity to break that stupid news to me over a public lunch you Sonofabitch," Rebecca groused, her anger shooting like daggers from her eyes as her Husband dialed the restaurant.

"The waiter said it's not there," Neal moaned as he hung up the phone and put it back in his pocket.

"FUCKING GREAT," Rebecca hissed. "Just don't worry about it...I'll just call and cancel all the credit cards when I get back up to the office...I only had about $40 in it anyway."

Sensing his wife's obvious frustration, both at him and at the purse situation, Neal Quinn carefully excused himself once they had reached the entrance of Rebecca's office building, giving a weak, fleeting and unanswered, "I love you" before turning to head back to the garage where he had parked his car. 

_____________________________________

It was Monday of the next week that Rebecca Quinn found herself heading out of the doors of her office building once again, this time to grab a quick cup of cappuccino for lunch at the coffee house across the street. It would also be where her life would take the most unexpected and macabre swerve she could imagine.

The subsequent few days after Neal Quinn had informed Rebecca about the possibility of some government heat coming down on him, the frost that had already been overtaking their relationship only seemed to harden. Not only had the passion grown listless between the two, now Rebecca had lost most of her respect for him and even found herself somewhat scared of what he, if not the people he was in financial bed with, were capable of.

Neal had left the night before with several boxes of documents and a plane ticket to an unspecified destination in what he termed a "gathering to get everyone's story straight". He hadn't told her how long he planned on being gone, but she did notice he had taken a week's worth of clothes with him.

Wading through the crush of humanity on the street, her mind mired in a whirlwind of complicated thought, Rebecca was suddenly snapped out of her distracted fog by a hand coming to rest on her shoulder.

"URRGGHHH," was Rebecca's visceral reaction when she turned to meet the eyes of the man who had grabbed her.

It was the homeless man she had nearly ran over a few days earlier.

"AHHH...It's you," Rebecca mumbled cautiously, her constitution withering somewhat from the searing but calm eye contact the stranger made with her.

A primal fear swept through Rebecca, even though there were hundreds of potential witnesses within eyesight, knowing that New Yorkers, at any given moment, could all have collective amnesia if a crime on the street was committed.

"I didn't mean to scare you Ma'am," the husky young man said with a distinct Southern drawl.

"He's cleaner and smells better than I thought," was Rebecca's strange first internal thought. "He must have either gotten some new clothes at one of the shelters over the weekend or he's one of those guys who pretend to be homeless just to make some easy money." 

"What is it?" she shakily asked.

"I found something the other day...I think it might be yours," he said before reaching into his coat and pulling out a scrunched up ladies handbag.

"My purse," Rebecca marveled, her eyes growing wide as if she was a child who had just had a lost puppy returned to her.

"Where on Earth...How did you know it was mine?" Rebecca stammered, wondering for a brief moment if the homeless man had in fact taken her purse that day.

"I found it in an alleyway a few blocks from here...just tossed aside," He began. "Honestly I was hoping there was some money left in it...Fat Chance...but when I looked inside I didn't see no money or credit cards but whoever took it left behind most everything else...I thought I recognized the picture on your driver's license from the other day."

"Oh Dear...Jesus...Thanks Again," Rebecca smiled, having the fight back the tears of appreciation at the man's charity. "I feel so horrible about the way my Husband reacted the other day...let me apologize again...Please!!"

"No worry Ma'am...he just felt you were being threatened and he was being protective...its completely understandable. There are some pretty bad dudes wondering around this part of town...you can't be too careful," he replied. 

"Hold on," Rebecca spoke up when she sensed the man beginning to turn back into the crowd. "Let me at least go over there and buy you a cup of coffee...its the least I could do."

"OK Ma'am," the man finally agreed, swallowing his pride without much of a fight at the thought of allowing such an attractive and well mannered business woman buying him a little warmth on such a cold afternoon.

_________________________________

Sitting at a small table inside the coffee shop with the homeless man, Rebecca couldn't help feeling self conscious, as if all eyes were on the strangely paired couple.

"Honestly though Rebecca," she tried to rationalize," With his clean shirt, relatively new jeans and work boots, if no one knew any better, they'd have no clue he was homeless.

Still, Rebecca recoiled somewhat from the heat of all those perceived stares as she listened attentively to the young man's story.

His name was PJ and he had grown up in a rural town in South Carolina. He'd freely admitted he had fallen in with a bad crowd after dropping out of high school and he had been helping run drugs north and south for almost a year when their operation was busted. When most of the brains behind the group had drifted back below the Mason-Dixon line when they felt the heat closing in, PJ was left to be a patsy when arrests were finally made. 

He had spent the last four years serving his sentence, and had been released three weeks earlier. Without any real place to go, while he was trying to save up enough money from his panhandling to get back home to South Carolina, he knew there wasn't much waiting for him there either. He'd discovered he could make more a week working the streets of Manhattan than he could in a month in a factory or on a farm back home. And the hours were much better.

Rebecca was startled when she looked down at her watch and saw just how quickly her lunch hour had passed talking to the young man. 

"Oh God...I've really got to get back up to the office," she chirped, instantly feeling a twinge of guilt from the deflated look that spread across PJ's face.

"I'm keeping you...I'm sorry," he grinned politely. "I've forgot what it's like to have a real job...I've really enjoyed this...its the first time I've had a coherant conversation with anyone since leaving prison."

"No...No...it's not you PJ...I really do have to get back to work...but...," Rebecca stopped, leaving that little three letter word dangling precariously in the air.

Suddenly the married businesswoman could feel a tomato shade of blush rising across her cheeks and neck.

"I...um...I could probably be out of the office by 3...will you still be out here?" Rebecca voice trailed away, leaving the man sitting across from her looking equally as stunned. 

The words were out of Rebecca's mouth, with no hope of bringing them back, and she felt her foundation beginning to crack when she saw the first gleam of understanding in the stranger's burdened, brown eyes.

__________________________________

Rebecca knew she'd probably never know, or want to face, the real reason she'd met PJ back down on the street later that afternoon, or why she was standing beside him on the subway heading home to her uptown condo.

It was cast as an offer to the young homeless man as a chance to get a warm shower and a hot meal, but as that subway car raced towards the outskirts of the city, Rebecca felt her own life was somehow helplessly hurdling down those same tracks.

"Eight hours ago, you would have been fearing for your life standing this close to someone that looked like him on the subway," Rebecca knew, understanding completely the cautious glaze of unease of everyone else surrounding her in the train car as they stared at PJ. 

She could also see a look of curiousity in all their eyes as well, and she couldn't help but feel a shiver of excitement as one by one, those same faces realized the scruffy looking man was with her.

_________________________________

"This whole thing is like some kind of out of body experience," Rebecca lamented as she dipped her finger into a glass of rum (mainly rum) and Coke.

Standing over her kitchen sink, making a mixed drink as she had done thousands of other times after work over the years, Rebecca listened intently to the sounds of the ice cubes jingling in her glass as their cold friction mingled with the distant humming hiss of the shower on the other side of the condo.

Only this time, it wasn't her Husband in there taking the shower.

"I expected him to be like a fish out of water when we walked inside," Rebecca groused, feeling oddly unsettled at just how comfortable PJ seemed as he followed her inside her inner sanctum a few minutes earlier.

"The ultimate act of control is to give it up, and he senses that," a wise but obtrusive voice in her head reckoned.

"Thank God only a few people saw him and I coming up the elevator, and none that lived here on my floor," the withering vestiges of Rebecca's self respect squeaked. 

So lost in her own internal malaise, it wasn't until she heard the shower cut off in the bathroom down the hall that Rebecca was collared back to reality. 

"It's your house, you're the one who should feel like you have the power here...nothing should happen unless you say so," Rebecca's inner strength faded like a distant and distorted radio station. "A shower and a home cooked was all you promised him..."

Rebecca turned when she heard the steady drumbeat of footsteps coming up the hall and nearly dropped her glass when she saw PJ enter the kitchen, still wet from his long shower and clad only in one of her Husband's robes that she had set out for him.

"Oh My...God," she exclaimed, unable to believe a simple shower and shave could change a person's appearance so much. "You look like a new man!"

"I feel like one too," PJ replied. "It's the first real shower I've had since I got out of jail...Hell its the first time I've taken a shower in five years where I didn't have to keep looking over my shoulder."

"And such a striking figure he cuts," Rebecca internally noted, unable to ignore the glaring way PJ filled out her Husband's robe.

"Here's a drink," Rebecca offered as casually as she could despite the vortex of emotions swirling through her.

PJ took the glass and smiled, the whole time studying Rebecca as she supported her weight against the front edge of the kitchen stove.

"It feels like your melting against the stove," Rebecca's inner voice trembled, causing her to instinctively turn her head to make sure the eyes weren't turned on.

"It's HIS eyes that are melting you, Rebecca," that same inner voice added as the robe clad stranger stared on in silence.

"He's been in prison for five years and on the street for a month. He hasn't been alone with a woman for that long and here he is, half naked in your kitchen after you've invited him into your house...and he doesn't look like he plans on leaving anytime soon," Rebecca's conscience crackled, the ice cubes in her glass cracking from the friction as her own self control steadily gave way.

Bowing her head to the left from the intense weight of PJ's stare, Rebecca braced her back against the stove and raised her cold and sweaty glass up to her neck as the hulking man she had brought home began to stride towards her. 

Feeling like a mouse trapped in a corner as PJ approached, Rebecca's body visibly trembled as his imposing shadow enveloped her.

"UUHHH," Rebecca groaned when he reached out and touched her for the first time, causing her to spill her drink on the counter in the process.

Engrossed in the moment so completely, PJ wouldn't allow Rebecca to even turn to see the sticky pool of rum and Coca-Cola wash across the counter and drip down to the floor.

Still dressed in her work clothes, Rebecca withered there, like a fly snared in a web as PJ leaned in and kissed her directly under her right earlobe. Swaying as he pulled back, Rebecca could feel the homeless man sizing her up as he hovered over top of her.

"He did his time like a man and faced his crime and he's doing all he can to try and drag himself back up with no resources or support...and where's your Husband right now...out running away from problems of his own making," Rebecca compared PJ's plight to her Husband's as justification for her carnal weakness.

His grip tight on her waist, Rebecca couldn't move or barely even breath as PJ leaned in once more, this time kissing her hungrily on the side of her neck and collarbone. She could feel a tenderness and caution in his action, but deep down Rebecca knew he was a wild and uncaged animal, ready to strike.

"If its been that long for him without a woman...what on Earth will he do to me?" Rebecca shuddered. 

"And its been so long for you without a real man...how will you handle it?" that same cold, inner voice heartlessly asked.

It was then that Rebecca understood PJ's tenderness and caution was more of a well practiced patience as he prepared to take something that had long been denied.

Wedged that closely to the freshly showered man, Rebecca forced her eyes open so she could take in the bestial gaze of the man she had invited home. Seemingly lost in the hypnotic haze of PJ's steady acquisition of her body, Rebecca was jolted back to the reality of his true intentions when he removed his right hand from her waist and placed it squarely and unabashedly over her crotch.

Clamping his fingers tight through Rebecca's tailored, navy blue slacks, the homeless man felt the married woman shudder and gasp as he nearly lifted her feet off the ground from the force of his pelvic grip.

"OOHHHHH," Rebecca's moans ripped through the kitchen as she dug her manicured fingernails into the back of the robe she'd given PJ to wear.

From that moment, Rebecca knew her cunt, if not every bit of gristle, bone and soul, had been turned over to PJ as she continued to crudely grind her crotch against his squeezing hand. Digging the tips of her high heels into the tiled floor below to keep her quivering legs from giving way, Rebecca pressed her face flush against PJ's shoulder as he devoured the soft inner flesh of her neck.




Salvation a la Mode and a Cup of Tea



"I'm gonna fuck you right here...right now," PJ growled up to Rebecca.

"Please," her hoarse and tattered voice begged.

Before the taste of that word had left Rebecca's mouth, she could feel PJ roughly pawing at the snap of her slacks. With a few frantic twists, the clasp and zipper were undone and PJ's right hand was inside her pants. Ashamed at just how moistened her silk panties had become as PJ clawed his fingers across the thin patch of fabric covering her vagina, Rebecca let out a high pitched shriek when he ripped her pants and panties simultaneously down to her knees.

Raising his right foot into the air, PJ quickly stomped down with it until the clothing that had been wedged between Rebecca's knees was pushed all the way down to her ankles, leaving her completely exposed from her waist to her feet.

Stunned by the animalistic but efficient way PJ was going about undressing her, Rebecca couldn't help but notice the man's grotesquely aroused cock as it pushed through the opening of the robe.

"OOHHH," she shuddered, fixated intently on the swaying piece of marbled manhood that would soon splitting her open.

"No way to stop this now," Rebecca's inner voice squeezed, her body quickly going limp as PJ lifted her up and placed her bare ass flush against the soaked counter.

Sandwiched between the irresistible force of PJ's body and the slippery countertop behind her, Rebecca winced and cried out loud when he stabbed his virile, thick spear into a woman's cunt for the first time in over five years. Rebecca's sizzling wet vagina flared into a tight pink ring around PJ's penetrating manhood, her entire levitated body spasming as PJ groped at her breasts through her now mangled silk blouse.

Once PJ had secured a foothold with his cock inside her quim, Rebecca could feel the full force of the man's 220 pound frame slamming into her barely 125 pound body each time he violently thrusted forward. Her ass securely perched against the counter, Rebecca couldn't fathom the image of her feet bouncing wildly in the air in front of her as her naked, outstretched legs flailed recklessly to each side of her younger lover.

Time had seemingly sprung a leak for Rebecca as she became swept up in the primal immediacy of what PJ was doing. The seconds in her head were now being counted off with each pounding collision of PJ's torso into hers. Sex had never been so raw, stripped away of pretense and sudden for Rebecca and she began to feel as if she might pass out from the frantic and brutal workout the long deprived Ex-Con was putting her through.

Rebecca could feel the entire world around her going black, and all five of her senses exploded with ever increasing intensity as each of PJ's ramming thrusts crashed into her pulsing vaginal sheath. Her head had become so detached from the heaving vessel of her body, Rebecca had a hard time believing that it was her own pussy that was being stretched to its very limits.

With a savage grunt, PJ's body tensed and his gyrating pelvis slowed until his rotating thrusts were executed with a deep, calculated precision. Suddenly, it felt as if a bottle of champagne had exploded between Rebecca's legs, splattering glob after glob of pearly white cum through her screaming, and now saturated, depths.

___________________________________

She had, in fact, blacked out from her and PJ's nearly simultaneous orgasm.

For the first few moments after coming to, Rebecca thought everything that had happened had just been an extremely graphic dream. That notion was quickly expelled when she felt the slimy residue of PJ's ejaculate washing copiously through her genitals.

"It still feels like his cock is pumping up and down inside me," Rebecca dazedly marvaled as the pistoning imprint of PJ's thorough fucking lingered inside her loins.

"It's like being in the eye of a hurricane," Rebecca imagined, having survived the first torrential onslaught of PJ's pent up lust, only to be given a momentary breather before the next wave tore through her.

Extending her hands out to each side before she had even mustered the courage to open her eyes, Rebecca could feel the familiar grains and softness of her bedroom comforter against her fingertips and she knew PJ must have carried her back to her bedroom after having his way with her in the kitchen.

"That's the shower," she said softly when she heard the dull hiss of the water running in the master bathroom. 

"He hasn't had a good, long and carefree shower in over five years...I guess he's gonna take as many as he can...just like he's gonna take you as many times as he can," the untethered voice inside Rebecca's head prophetically added.

When she heard the shower turn off, Rebecca finally tried peeling open her eyes. Soon after, through her slitted gaze, Rebecca could see PJ emerge from the bathroom, no robe this time, only a towel wrapped around his shoulders as he dried himself off.

Motionless on the bed, a strange sensation of being a piece of captured prey swept through Rebecca as she watched PJ pace side to side by the bed. Unable to think of anything to say, Rebecca just laid there and watched PJ disappear out of the bedroom and up the hall to get himself something to drink, completely naked, free and easy as if her home was his.

While PJ was gone, Rebecca moved her right hand up to her belly before lowering it directly down to the smelting remnants of her brutalized vagina, just to make sure it was still attached to her body. When she ran her fingers through the swollen and gooey muck of pubic hair, seminal fluid and pulpy flesh, a mixture of cringing disgust and unbridled excitement tingled down her spine.

"You're letting a homeless ex-con just saunter naked around your house...have you lost your mind?" a weak vestige of Rebecca's inner sensibilities screamed.

"You just let him saunter freely through you...why wouldn't he think everything else here belonged to him," came the rational, but rather painful to accept answer from the other side of her brain.

An eternity seemed to pass before PJ came back down the hall. Seeming to stalk Rebecca as she rested on the bed, he took as casual sip of water he'd brought from the kitchen before easing down beside her. Kissing her softly, first on the cheek, then on the shoulder and breast, PJ once again began measuring the slightly built married woman, this time in her own marital bed.

Her back to PJ's chest, Rebecca could feel the young man's hardened heart beat against her shoulder blade as he rubbed his hands up and down her naked frame. Blindly feeling PJ's dick starting to grow once again behind her, tapping like an eager snake at the back of her thighs, Rebecca instinctively knew it wouldn't be long before he was inside of her for a second time.

After a few moments of petting and prodding from PJ, the unleashed animal between Rebecca's legs had shoved the exhaustion the rest of her body was feeling to the backburner. As if on autopilot, Rebecca shifted from her side to flat on her back so that she and PJ were kissing face to face as he felt her up. So submerged in her own desperation and debauchery, any concern that she was frolicking around with a complete stranger in her own house, while her Husband was nowhere to be found, had been completely erased.

Before she knew it, PJ once again had bear hugged her exhausted body in his arms and raised Rebecca into the air, depositing her matted and sloppy pussy on top of his torso. Her legs now straddled out to each side of PJ's waist, Rebecca swayed several times in that kneeling position until she could somewhat gain her balance.

For the first time since being invited inside of Rebecca's house, PJ felt he could lay back and take the time to enjoy the surreal moment that had been thrust upon him. What he had done with her in the kitchen had been all about uncorking his long, pent-up lust. While the by-product of that had been Rebecca losing consciousness from such a debilitating orgasm of her own, the act from PJ's end was merely to satisfy his own selfish needs.

With Rebecca now re-positioned on top of him, PJ got a clear sense of just how much his presense had needled, like a thirsty tick, into something deeply lacking in the married woman's life. He knew now he was the one in control.

Flat on his back with her perched on top of him, PJ looked up at Rebecca and salivated at the way her small breasts danced and swayed against her chest at the same time her pretty face fought making direct eye contact down with him, for the fear of shame that would surely come from it. Tracing his fingers slowly over the smooth, clammy flesh of Rebecca's hips and thighs, PJ gracefully reached behind her with his right hand to stabilize his painfully pulsing and anxious manhood.

Steadying the stiff rod straight into the air, PJ gradually nudged Rebecca's crotch off his waist until he could drop her flaming and already soiled pussy back down on top of his jock.

"UURRGGRHHAAHHH," Rebecca's voice escaped in a throaty rasp, relief welling in her soul that PJ had once again lodged himself into that throbbing void.

Rocking Rebecca back and forth several times to re-lubricate his jutting staff, PJ increased the pace of his rhythm gradually until she was able to match his grinding thrusts. Her nipples as hard and round as acorns, Rebecca dropped her hands down on top of PJ's chest to support her withering weight as she pushed her cunt down repeatedly on his groin. Just as the two found the perfect friction however, Rebecca's cell phone rang.

"NOOOOO," she groaned defiantly, her body lurching hard from the ultimate cliché of disturbances.

PJ bristled for a moment as the phone rang again, but something deep within his constitution decided the interruption wasn't going to put a stop to what was unfolding on Rebecca's bed. Putting his right hand securely on Rebecca's waist to keep her glowing and leaky pussy in place, PJ reached over to the nightstand with his left and squeezed her cell phone just as the third ring chimed.

"Answer it," he said matter of factly before putting the phone in her hand.

"It's... my...Husband," Rebecca choked her words when she saw the number on the caller ID.

"Then talk to him," PJ calmly replied before the phone rang again.

"I...can't...what will...I...," Rebecca's voice tremored as she rested there on top of her shameless lover, his cock still buried all the way up inside her.

"OH...GOD," she wept before finally pressing the talk button.

"Hello," she meakly greeted her Husband.

A subtle, but noticeable grin spread across PJ's weathered face as he looked up and watched the machinations the married woman went through trying to have a conversation with her faraway Husband.

"No...I'm fine...just a little tired...I just laid down to take a nap after work," Rebecca seemed to plead as an excuse for her disheveled tone.

"Where are you?" she asked, curious both about where he disappeared to, and why, as well as hoping for preservation sake, he wasn't on his way home.

"When are you coming home then?" she asked after not getting a forthright answer to her first question.

Resting on top of PJ, speared on his jutting manhood as she tried making some sense of her marital situation, a rapid and fiery blush rushed across her face and neck when the homeless man reached up and started groping at her breasts as she talked to Neal. Feeling Rebecca's bare feet tap and dig feverishly at the mattress to each side of his waist, PJ forced his hips down into the bedding before ramming his crotch upwards, causing the tiny woman perched on top of him to violently cringe and shiver.

"Oh...Ah...I had... to...sneeze," Rebecca lied to her Husband as she fought the overwhelming urge to scream out loud.

"Stop," the married woman's spastic eyes seemed to beg down to PJ even though her vaginal muscles continued to intensify their molten grip around his submerged cock.

The conversation between Rebecca and Neal became more and more disjointed by the second as she knelt there on top of her naked lover, being torn apart by her own depraved lust and disgust for her Husband.

Not giving Rebecca a moment's reprieve, PJ reached up and pressed his thumb against the married woman's bulging clit, causing her pussy to flare even tighter around his embedded manhood. Savoring the way her entire body shivered and lurched each time he touched her, PJ patiently continued to listen to the surreal conversation playing out on Rebecca's cell phone.

Finally lifting his back off the sheets below, PJ gracefully eased his face up to Rebecca's chest before parting his lips and taking half of her left tit into his mouth. Immediately swooning when she felt PJ's lips suction around her areola and his teeth gently nip at her juicy nipple, Rebecca had to fight to keep her grip on the phone as her Husband continued to talk franticly into her ear.

Feeling the edge of Rebecca's chin grind against the top of his scalp, PJ could feel the rapid beat of her heart against his cheek as he suckled at her breast. Leaning up in the seated position he was in with Rebecca draped across him, PJ's cock was forced so deep into the naked woman's vaginal recesses that he could feel a low guttural purr beginning to rattle from her lungs.

PJ was close enough to the phone's earpiece that he could hear Neal Quinn's voice plead into his wife's ear.

"Rebecca...Are you OK...Rebecca...what's wrong...Are you alright?" he asked repeatedly.

PJ then took Rebecca's ass securely into his hands and gradually increased the velocity and depth of his cruel, pelvic jabs until her sweaty body completely gave out and she collapsed in a mangled heap down on top of him. 

Her limp and convulsing body flowering around his torso, PJ sped the maliciousness of his thrusts until he could see Rebecca's grip on the cell phone weaken with each stabbing blow out of the corner of his eye, until it dropped with a dull thud from her fingers down to the matted sheets below, leaving her Husband's gruff and confused voice bellowing from the receiver.

"Rebecca...Rebecca...," his voice echoed through the phone as his wife of over 20 years bounced and grinded on top of the homeless man, her face buried against his chest to muzzle her frantic screams.

"YEAH...COME ON...YEEAAHHH...CUM RIGHT ON TOP OF ME, DAMMMITT" PJ demanded, now with no regard for the still activated phone resting to his side.

The rattle of the mattress springs intensified furiously in the following moments until Rebecca was left with no choice but to cum.

"AAAAHHHHHHHHHH AAAHHHHHHHHHHH," she cried, feeling her entire body explode in glorious agony and release as PJ held her tight on top of his maniacally thrusting cock.

Tears streamed from Rebecca's eyes, leaking down PJ's chest, at the same time her own pungent and slick arousal oozed like a punctured water balloon all over his straining crotch.

Suddenly there was nothing but a heavy and lasting silence coming from the strewn aside cell phone receiver...

THE END

Thanks for reading 



Salvation Army Lassie



Ever since I was a small child, I have been turned on by the women who were out ringing bells for the Salvation Army, but only if they were properly clad in their distinctive uniforms. I still remember the first time I saw and heard one of those women. I must have been about six years old, and she was a matronly lady, clanging her bell as she stood beside her kettle in front of a supermarket in my home town. I ran up to her and hugged her leg, without even giving a thought to the strange scene I must have been making. 

The lady just laughed good-naturedly; apparently she was fond of little children and had no objection to such an innocent display of affection. My mother was embarrassed and admonished me, thinking I must have somehow mistaken the lady for my grandmother. They were both wrong. I didn't know exactly where either of my grandmothers lived, but I knew they were a long way from where we were that day, and that we would be going to see my mother's mother in another week or so. At the time, I didn't know just why I had hugged the lady, and it wasn't for quite a while that I knew that there had been nothing at all innocent in my sudden display of affection for her. 

As years went by and I passed through puberty and into adolescence, I became aware why I had done it. It was carnal attraction, pure and simple. It still seems strange, to think of such a young boy lusting after a woman old enough that she could be mistaken for his grandmother but, eventually, I came to realize that was the reason. Every Christmas season, the lassies from the Salvation Army were out on the streets of the town where I lived, and whenever I saw them I went home and masturbated over what was an erotic sight to me. 

Of course, the objects of my strange fetish were on a much higher moral plane than somebody like me, and completely unreachable. They were basically women of the church, and having the hots for them was akin to lusting for a nun or for one of my former Sunday school teachers. By the time I became an adult, I had learned how to live with the urge, but it wasn't easy. 

Every year, beginning with the week of Thanksgiving Day, I started to avoid places where these objects of my desire might be found, and I was alert for the sound of the bells they could usually be counted on to ring. I was aware that the sight of a woman, old or young, in one of those Navy blue skirt and jacket uniforms with the red trim and matching felt hat could turn me into a raging sex maniac, so I avoided places where one of them might take me by surprise. 

One night, my precautions failed, but it actually turned out to be a good thing. It was mid December; I had just left my gym after a good workout, and I needed to stop at a supermarket that was open late and located in that same shopping area. As I approached, I listened for the ringing bells and, hearing none, I presumed the lassies had gone home for the night, so it was safe to approach the front door. On my way out with my purchases, I was met by one of the alluring women I had been trying so hard to avoid. When I tried to keep my distance and hurry past, the object of my fetish stopped me, not by asking for a donation, but by calling out my name. 

"Hey, George. George Boxlicker. Can I ask you to do something for me?" 

I stopped and turned around and stared at the face that peered out from under the brim of the felt hat that had been the subject of so many wet dreams. She knew my name because she was Barbara, one of my long time lady friends, whom I had not seen for several months. I approached her, until I was closer to a wearer of the blue and red uniform than I had been in many years. My cock was trying to rip a hole right through the front of my pants, and I hoped she would not notice it. 

"Hi, Barbara," I said. "I haven't seen you for quite a while." 

"Hi, George. Yeah, it has been way too long, and that's one of the things I want to ask you about." 

She was smiling, and I recognized the look on her face as being very similar to her appearance just before I started eating her pussy. She had always really loved that, as well as fucking and sucking my cock and any other carnal thing a man and woman might decide to do in bed. Seeing her face, it occurred to me that I just might be able to do something that night that I had fantasized about since I was a child. 

"Barbara, I'm surprised to see you out here in that uniform ringing that bell. Have you joined the Salvation Army?" 

"No way! My sister is a member though, and she talked me into taking her place tonight while she's at home nursing the flu. I've been freezing my ass all day, and now I need a ride home. That's what I want to ask you for, a ride and, after you get me home, to come inside and help me unfreeze my ass. 

My heart leaped at that thought, but I answered her request. "Of course. You know I'll do anything for you, within reason." 

"That's what I expected you to say. You'll have a lot of fun at the same time, of course. When you're unfreezing my ass, I mean." 

Barbara took her bell and kettle into the store and left it with the night security for safekeeping. With her responsibility taken care of, she rejoined me, still wearing the uniform that had sexually excited me ever since I was a child, and we walked to my truck. I used the remote control to open the door for her, closed it after she was inside, and went around to the driver's door. I stashed the groceries behind my seat and, when I got in, Barbara was looking at the armrest between her and me. 

"Can you raise this thing?" 

"Sure." 

I raised it for her, and she quickly slid over to the middle seat and buckled that safety belt around her waist while I was securing mine. Her right hand was on my knee and her left arm was resting behind my neck as I backed out of the parking space and made my way to the street. She reminded me of where she lived and, once I was on the street and heading in that direction, her arm was on my shoulders and the hand on my knee crept upward until Barbara met with a surprise. 

"Wow! George, I didn't know you were that glad to see me." 

"You know I'm always happy to see you." 

"Yeah, but not this much," she replied, gently squeezing my fully erect cock. 

It was quite late at night and the street was dark and so was the inside of the truck, and I couldn't make out any of the details of Barbara's uniform except for the distinctive Salvation Army hat with the upturned brim. The logo and the red band with the embroidered name of the organization was more than enough to give me a full erection, even if her hand hadn't unzipped my fly and reached in to start massaging my bare cock. I decided to be honest with her about the extremely pronounced reaction she couldn't help but notice. 

"You're a real hotty, Barbara, and what you're doing right now would give a hard-on to a statue. But my cock was almost as hard even before you got into the truck." I then went on to explain my strange, life-long fetish for the blue uniforms and, especially, the sexy felt hats that were worn by all the lassies in the service of the Salvation Army. 

She giggled about that. "That's weird, because I consider this outfit to be about the least erotic thing I've ever seen, except maybe The Flying Nun's habit." 

Barbara removed her hand from my cock, leaving it erect and sticking up from my fly. "I'd better be careful. I don't want you cumming now, especially not while you're driving." 

I didn't drive much longer anyhow, because we reached Barbara's building less than a minute later, and she got out while I was rearranging my underwear and pants. I walked behind her, admiring the curve of her ass inside the long, loose skirt until we reached the door and she used her key to let us in. The view was even better as I continued following her up the stairs to the second floor where she opened the door to her apartment. Once inside, with the portal closed and locked behind us, she switched on the light and turned to face me so I would get the full impact of what I considered the most erotic female clothing around. 

The difference between then and the other times I had accidentally seen women in the Salvation Army uniform was that I did not consider Barbara to be any kind of untouchable churchwoman. As with all my other lady friends, I had a high opinion of her as a woman and as a person. Even so, after all the good times we already had together and what she had said and her actions while on our way to her apartment, I expected us to be sharing her bed in no more than a few minutes. She obviously had the same thought as I, because she opened her arms and we embraced and kissed, long and passionately, while our tongues became reacquainted. 

"This is fun," she said, with a mischievous grin. "But we can have a lot more fun and thaw me out a lot better in here," she said as she held my arm and started leading me into her bedroom. 

I followed her eagerly. I was about to have my oldest fantasy come true, and that was a big part of my eagerness but, I would have been just as avid to climb into Barbara's bed with her even if she had been wearing a burlap bag. She has a pretty face, with dark brown hair to her shoulders, regular features and a clear complexion, but her biggest attraction is her curvaceous figure. Some of my favorite memories are of her sexiness and her sensuousness and how much she loved doing the things in bed that I found so appealing. Even so, I hoped she would be willing to retain some of the uniform she was wearing. 

Standing beside her unmade bed, she turned to face me, and we embraced and kissed again, before Barbara stepped back and grinned lewdly at me. "Well, George, this sounds like it's going to be a lot of fun. How much of this stuff do you want me to keep on?" 

"Well, not the skirt, because it'd be too much in the way. And certainly not the shoes and, of course, none of the underwear. Definitely the hat, and the jacket too, I think. The blouse is just a plain white blouse, and doesn't mean much of anything." 

"Okay with me, but suppose you take them off me?" 

That seemed like a good idea too, but first we sat on the bed and I took off my coat and we both removed our shoes and socks. While we stood barefoot, I unbuttoned the uniform jacket and Barbara shrugged out of it, and started on my shirt while I quickly undid the buttons of her blouse. I turned around so she could pull off my shirt, toss it aside, peel off my undershirt, and add it to the growing pile of clothing. I emulated her by doing the same for her blouse, as well as unhooking her bra and pulling it off. Nude above the waist, Barbara kept her back to me while I put the jacket back on over her shoulders and arms, but the front would be left open. 

When she turned around, I feasted my eyes on the best of at least a couple of worlds. My hotsy lady friend was wearing her highly erotic, to me at least, hat and jacket, and her big, luscious breasts were jutting out between the lapels. The sight made me even more aroused than I had been. I cupped one of my hands under either of the luscious twins and bent over to start licking on one of her nipples. 

"Oooo, that feels good, George," she murmured into my ear. "But why don't we get into the bed? It'll be even better there." 

She was right, of course, so I raised my head from the delectable twins, and Barbara pulled all the bed covers but the bottom sheet out of the way and lay on her back with a pillow under her head. She moved another from its place beside the other and put it beside her thigh, and I knew that would be placed under her ass later. I climbed onto the bed to kneel beside her. Barbara held the lapels of her jacket out of the way and moved her shoulders slightly so her big, gorgeous breasts swayed in front of me. I held one of the beauties in my hand and resumed licking her nipple. 

After a few strokes of my tongue, the first of Barbara's sweet pink nubbins was so erect that I could feel all of its individual tiny ridges. I moved my hand and mouth to her other, equally succulent breast and started licking her there, sometimes using broad strokes of my tongue and sometimes using short dabs with just the tip. After a few minutes of my ministrations, Barbara was cooing happily and her upper body was squirming under my face. 

I was even happier than she was, because I was fulfilling an old fantasy that I never expected to have come true, besides making love to a sweet, beautiful woman. My face remained inches from the lapels of the jacket and the sleeves that ended at the hands that were keeping the fabric out of my way. Barbara was still wearing her uniform skirt, and I could glance downward on her body and see that too, but I would remove it and her undergarments later. Her hat was out of my field of vision, but I knew it was there and that I would be gazing upon it later, while I was plunging my cock in and out of her pussy. 

Still holding one lovely breast in my hand, I drew as much of it as I could into my mouth and started sucking on it. While my lips formed a seal on the soft flesh at the base, my tongue continued caressing the nipple and areola. Once again, I switched my attentions between the gorgeous twins, while Barbara's blissful writhing on the bed kept thrusting them into my mouth. Although I knew she was reveling in what we were doing as much as I was, she stopped me at that point. 

"George, I can feel my pussy getting all wet and juicy, and I don't want my sister's skirt getting stained with it. It might scandalize her." 

I could understand her concern, so I reached down to unbutton the waist of the garment and got off the bed to pull it off Barbara. She raised her ass from the bed and it came clear easily, leaving her wearing nothing below her waist but her silky panties with the growing wetness in the crotch. I would attend to them later, but I wanted to get back on the bed and continue what I had been doing. After all, I had never licked and sucked the breasts of a Salvation Army lassie before, or even seen them, and I wanted to enjoy the new experience as much as I could. 

Barbara liked it too, of course, but there comes a time when enough of a good thing gets to be too much, and it's time to move on. After a few more minutes, that time had arrived for her. "George, you've got my ass all thawed already, and I think it's time to get the rest of me really hot and wet." 

I was having the time of my life, especially with her jacket so close to my face, but I had to agree with what she said. It was time to move along so, starting with the cleft between her breasts, my mouth meandered its way down Barbara's pleasantly round belly. She is not quite big enough to be called a BBW, but she has a very substantial figure, with all her parts real and in the right places. As I kissed and licked and nuzzled my way down her sexy body, I could smell the extremely delectable aroma of her fresh pussy juices, and when I reached their elastic waistband, I raised my head to look at her panties again. 

Their crotch was so wet it was actually transparent, and I could see the landing strip, which is all Barbara leaves when she shaves her pussy. I got off the bed, got back on at the foot and walked on my knees until I was between her legs. After hooking my fingers in the waistband, I started pulling down her panties, and she raised her ass from the bed to help me. They were quite skimpy and fit her snugly, and were so wet that I had to peel them all the way down past her ankles and around her feet and off. With my lady friend naked except for the hat and jacket that were so arousing to me, I moved forward on my hands and knees. 

Barbara raised her legs and, when I ducked under them, she rested them on my shoulders. I wrapped my arms around her thighs and leaned in closer, to gaze on her adorable pussy. She must have shaved that morning, because I couldn't see any shadow, only creamy, unblemished skin and the narrow strip of hair. Barbara's inner lips were so rosy and swollen with her lust they had blossomed fully through her slit, and I could see her clit peeking through their upper ends, where they merge to form the little cutie's protective hood. She was so excited sexually that I could actually see fresh juices trickling out and down her crotch, and I breathed in deeply of their enticing aroma. 

Some of that fragrant fluid had dripped onto the insides of Barbara's thighs, so I started by licking it off her, and found it to be as delicious as I remembered it being. The Salvation Army clothing made her more desirable to me as a sex object, but it didn't make any difference in the taste of her pussy juices. The skin of her thighs was just as soft and smooth as I remembered it being, and I quickly used my tongue to sluice into my mouth all the nectar clinging to it. 

After that snack, I raised my head to look again at the jacket and hat Barbara was wearing and gained inspiration, if I needed any, before licking all the nectar from her crotch. Her legs were spread wide apart, and her pussy was already squirming under my face as my tongue started caressing one soft, plump outer lip. She was smooth there, like a warm satin pillow, but her flesh was vibrant, and my tongue slowly covered the entire surface, happily stroking the whole area over and over until I reached her Mount of Venus. 

I kissed her there, gazed once more on her hat and jacket, and brought my mouth back below her dripping pink hole for another feast and to start treating her other outer lip the same way. Once again, my mouth meandered up the soft and silky skin until I reached Barbara's mons. Her pussy and her whole body were writhing in bliss, and I smiled gleefully over what a great time she and I were giving each other. 

This time, when I looked at Barbara's attire, all I could see was her uniform jacket, because her head was tilted back onto her pillow and was pitching from side to side. Her body was also tossing back and forth, and I delighted in the way her breasts were bouncing and swaying against the lapels of her jacket. She was truly a magnificent and arousing sight in every way, and I eagerly brought my mouth back down to her pussy to continue the incredible pleasure we were both getting. 

Starting with the extremely soft and smooth area between their origins, I began licking a pair of Barbara's inner and outer lips. The texture of her skin was delightful there, and I could tell by the movements of Barbara's body that she was having at least as great a time as I was. When I reached the point where the lips are close together, I tilted my head slightly so I could lick between them and revel in the spongy texture of the swollen inner lip. Darting in and out like that of a hummingbird, my tongue caressed both lips until I reached the folds that made up her clit hood. 

Once again, I surveyed Barbara's body, relishing everything I saw. Her hat had come mostly off her head, but was tilted forward, displaying the red emblem in the front, arousing me even more. She was no longer holding open the lapels of her jacket, but they were lying apart, with her luscious breasts fully exposed and rolling from side to side while her whole body thrashed on the bed, and her arms flailed the mattress. 

When I looked down, her succulent clit had pushed its way completely free of its protective hood and was so rosy and swollen with her lust that it resembled a lovely pink pearl. Barbara's hips were swiveling under my face, thrusting her legs out and back over my shoulders like two pistons. Her thighs had rotated slightly outward, totally presenting her pussy, which was fucking up into my face. I knew my lady friend was at the apex of her arousal, and I lowered my face and drew her clit into my mouth and started to suck on it. 

My lips formed a seal and my mouth worked as a bellows on the adorable little morsel. As I sucked, my tongue fondled the sides and top, and the movements of Barbara's body became still wilder. She rammed her pussy even harder into my face while her heels drummed on my ribs and spine. After just less than a minute of sucking and licking Barbara's clit, she gave out with an ecstatic cry. 




Salvation Between Two



My name is Ralph. I work in a small engineering firm. The owner is called Albert. He is a stocky and outgoing man. He has a young secretary, named Ann; she is small with dark hair and eyes. Normally, she works cheerfully, but lately, I have noticed her to be sad and nervous. I have less to do with her that with him, since he is very possessive toward her.

My work is mostly in the office, assisted by computers, but my duties include visiting factories and other sites where they hire us as inspectors. Then the boss verifies my plans and certifies them with his signature, in order to give the projects the go-ahead.

One day, I knocked on his door to show him one of my designs, but he didn't open for me. I heard some noises, to which I didn't pay any attention. I didn't see the secretary at her desk, so I sat down there to wait for him, because it was necessary to submit this work very soon. Suddenly, I heard shouts. The boss scolded her with filthy words and I believed that she had made a mistake at dictation. Although I didn't want to pay any attention, it made me nervous and impatient. Then, she was the one who screamed; that surprised me. I could wait no longer, so I tried to open the door, but it was locked from the inside. Then, the noises were of blows, things falling and hurried steps. Somehow, the door was unlocked and I rushed inside. The scene was hellish. Books, papers and even drawers lay on the floor and the desk was in total disorder. But the worst was when I saw them. Albert crushed Ann against a bookcase, sodomizing her! She had bruises on her arm and she even bled through her lip and nose, her blouse was torn, her bra was undone and her skirt was bunched around her waist. Her panties and shoes lay on the floor. It was obvious that he was raping her! She begged me for help almost breathlessly. I tried to separate them, but he didn't budge. I hit him on his back with him hardly feeling it. I pulled his shoulder, he loosened up a little and I was able to throw him against his desk, due to his premature orgasm and to the fact that he had his pants around his ankles. I demanded an explanation from him, but he threw me a punch. I blocked the first one, but the next one sent me crashing against the shelf. I tried to kick his penis, smeared with his semen and her feces, but he blocked me with more force. I grabbed on the shelves, trying to imitate Jackie Chan to release my ankle, but he already had an advantage over me. He hit me harder, and she tried to pull him off me, but he brushed her away with a backhand blow; I shouted to her about her taking advantage of this to flee, while he was distracted hitting me and insulting me. I didn't harbor hopes for myself but I would feel some relief if she survived. But something strange happened. The guy gave a holler, vomited blood on me and collapsed. His breathing was labored, since had some stabs in the back and bled profusely. I lifted my gaze and I saw her in front of us. She held a letter-opening knife; I then remembered the threatening and mocking moves that he sometimes made with that instrument. Then she explained to me that he used it to subdue her when his pattern of sexual harassment became physical. We then got frightened, now that he was in his death throes. I told her to call an ambulance, and she did, but it was useless: our boss had died. I wanted to give him first aid, but I felt nauseous, besides, I could hardly move his large frame. The paramedics took too long to arrive and they also had difficulty when they lifted the corpse in order to carry it to the hospital. We also had to go to treat our multiple wounds and to extract evidence of the violation which that savage perpetrated against the unfortunate Ann.

The doctors in the emergency ward called the police, and they proceeded to interrogate us. Both of us narrated the facts as they happened, hoping that justice would be on our side, but they pressed charges on us, as if it were a conspiracy. We had to plead "no-contest" to some misdemeanors, and they put us on probation, being this our first offense. They hardly considered her rape and our self-defense, not even the fact that the autopsy showed that the boss was under the effects of drugs, perhaps cocaine or some hallucinogen.

When we came to work after the sentence, Dave, my boss's partner, met with us. He began saying:

"From now on, I am taking charge during this trial period. I won't fire you, despite a condition of your probation is that you cannot see each other, but this contract is worth a lot and I don't want to lose it. Ralph, you'll get more field work, and if you should come to the office, we will make arrangements so that Ann is not around. When we finish the project, you will go to a seminar that would enable you to certify the works that Albert used to sign, with paid expenses."

We also had to go to counseling sessions, which we hoped that would repair the psychological damage, but court officials could also supervise us.

One day, Mr. Dave called Ann into the office to dictate a letter to her, but it seems that she still had very fresh memories of the incident, and she refused to step inside. The boss got very angry, but did not express it, because he could sympathize with her grief. But he grew impatient and he called me:

"Ralph, this girl is in shock! You come soon, I no longer know what to do!"

"And what about the probation?"

"Screw probation! Just help me!" (At least, she was not in the office, because the mention of such obscenity would have pushed her into a worse post-traumatic crisis.)

I went to the office and saw her. She made a supreme effort not to crumble, trying to maintain a serene demeanor. She begged the boss to dictate to her from the outside, but he flatly refused, saying:

"Miss, you must learn to overcome this, because if you don't, you will never work in an office again."

I cut in and I told her:

"Sir, go to the office, but leave the door open."

He went in and sat down behind his desk.

I walked toward her, not afraid of being discovered by the authorities, and I told her:

"Ann, there is nothing to fear. That bad man cannot hurt us any more."

She remained motionless and she looked at me with a blank expression. Then, I thought of something unexpected to say:

"You are my hero. Yes! You saved me, when that bastard was pummeling me. If it weren't for you, Albert would have killed us both. Indeed, you are very brave!"

Tears streamed on her cheeks, but somehow, she drew strength from my words. I offered to walk her into the office, and then, she consented. The boss allowed me to remain there while he dictated his first lines, but I had to leave soon. She looked for me with her gaze, and I turned around and said to her:

"I am here, my friend."

She breathed deep and she replied:

"I am all right now. Thank you."

I closed the door, and although I expected her to come out, or at least, open the door to avoid feeling claustrophobic, nothing happened. Only the voice of the chief engineer was heard dictating his letter, so I returned to the "field." I had some difficulty to concentrate on my work that afternoon, and after arriving to my house, I was the one who broke down with tears.

Time passed and the boss decided to go into retirement definitively. He called us together again and he announced to us that the probation had already concluded because the socio-penal reports had been very favorable, so there was no longer any restraint order between her and me. In fact, our former boss did not die from the stab wounds, which were not so deep, but because of the drugs and his own adrenalin, although the loss of blood played a role in his death. I had already earned my professional license, so he gave me a free hand in order to take over at the office, according to my better judgement. We could even hire other employees, and so, Ann became an office manager, and were brought junior engineers and secretaries into the firm. We even hired draftsmen, technicians, a webmaster and a legal advisor; the prosperity of the firm allowed us those luxuries.

Everything went well from then on, but one afternoon, when we were closing for that day, she came to me in a certain mood that I didn't understand at first, and she told me:

"Ralph, please come to my home. I need to get a load off my chest, and only you would be able to understand me."

She gave me her address, which I didn't know before, and I followed her in my car. When we arrived to her apartment, she put on a kimono-style robe, she cooked a light dinner, and after eating and cleaning, she led to me to her sofa, she took a deep breath and she began to say to me:

"I need to speak to you about something that I could not share with anyone else. Do you know why? Although I seem to feel all right, I have not yet recovered from my experience."

I replied to her:

"It hasn't been easy for me either. And I will tell you what has been the worst: the mere fact of being accused. I trusted that they would understand us and they would do us justice. And what hurts me more, even now, it's not so much bureaucracy. It is the fact that you had to go through all that."

She agreed with me, saying:

"They treated us like criminals."

"Precisely! Especially you. You were almost branded a murderess. You! My sweet Annie."

I had the impulse of caressing her cheek, but a voice inside my head screamed:

"Are you crazy? She has just suffered a rape!"

I forced myself to shut up. I didn't even dare to look at her, unsure of my feelings.

She sighed and told me:

"I never had the opportunity to thank you for saving me from that monster. All this time has been horrible. And those psychologists! They were useless. They were only good for hurting me more with their prehudice. But you could really help me!"

"How?"

"Come with me."

She led to her room. There she hugged me. I felt her tremble, and she stepped away from me. She met my gaze to gather resolve, and then, she took off her kimono, and stood naked before me. I was surprised, and she also blushed, but we smiled to each other. She approached me again, kissed me and helped me to undress. Upon seeing my penis, she motioned me to sit down to the edge of her bed and she knelt down to kiss it and take it in her mouth. She was not yet used to the sensation, so she soon dropped it and looked at me, but she remained determined to surrender to me. I lifted her by her arms and told her:

"If you want, we can stop."

Ann began to say to me, full of mixed feelings:

"It's all right. I want to do this. You see, that bastard left a stain in my body and only you could wash it off me: with your semen."

My face brightened and I told her:

"On one condition."

She smiled back at me and asked:

"What is it?"

"May I suck your breasts?"

She said, laughing:

"Of course!"

She leaned on the bed and I pressed my lips on her hardened nipples. I kissed them, I sucked them and I even opened my mouth wide in order to engulf her puffy areolae. She groaned from pleasure, and she begged me:

"Now, 'eat' my vulva."

I gave her nipples one last lick, then I traced a path from there over her stomach until I reached her clitoris, and I licked it a little bit. I extended my tongue to stroke her labia, which swelled to receive such an exquisite caress, then I returned to her clitoris in order to bring her closer to an orgasm. Ann grabbed my head and pushed it toward her burning sex, and after shaking a little, she lifted my face to look at me in the eye and she asked me to penetrate her. She even put a condom on me. While I began entering her, she sighed:

"This was something that I always wanted to do, for such a long time."

I felt very pleased and I pushed my penis deeper into her vagina, and I started with slow strokes, savoring the moment. She gasped loudly, and she hugged me tightly, relishing on the sensation. Then, she asked me:

"Take the condom off!"

I looked at her perplexed, but she met my gaze and insisted:

"My love, plunge it in my anus. Cleanse it with your semen, which is the only essence that should be in me."

I pulled out reluctantly, and we shared a groan because of the void of my withdrawal. I pulled the condom off, and she daubed my penis with one of her beauty creams. She drew her thighs until her knees touched her round boobs and she relaxed her sphincter in order to draw my member into her rectum. I caressed her vulva to increase her pleasure, while I moved my glans over her perineum, to line my penis with her anus, I buried it up to my testicles and she sighed, and when I resumed my thrusts, she began having contractions, due to an intense orgasm. Her vaginal juices spilled out around her anus, easing me deeper, and I could no longer hold back, so I heard my own scream, much like in my childhood, and finally, I went rigid while discharging such a spurt of warm semen that I felt as if I were bleeding to death inside her bowels. She raised her face to kiss me in gratitude for healing her suffering once and for all. All of this felt so right, the best therapy that we could ever have, and we understood that all of the wrong done to us had happened for a powerful reason: to unite us in eternal love, for better or worse.