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Shift In The Right Direction Ch. 01

By: lamoureuse



Charlotte was rounding the block in the last quarter mile of her morning run. It was already humid and hot, though it was not yet 6:00 am. At mile 3 she'd pulled off her long-sleeved tee shirt, tying it around her waist, so now she ran in her running shorts and sports bra. What the hell difference did it make, she thought - it covered more than a bikini top would and no one was even up at this hour. So much for the City that Doesn't Sleep. Now and then a lone taxi would come into view, and there was a crowd of after hours club rats walking home, still drunk, singing loudly, still in their Friday night outfits.

As she approached lower Madison Avenue, she spotted more signs of life. The police had put out a series of wood barriers and a collection of motley trailers and vans were parked at odd angles on the deserted street. Another street fair - fantastic, Charlotte thought. You could never have too many pairs of cheap tube socks, used paperback books, and funnel cakes. She decided to quickly alter her course to avoid the strange, gypsy-like people who moved from street fair to street fair, doing their set up here for the day. She wondered whom they all were, and whether they also had straight jobs or if they could make enough money just selling fresh lemonade or sausage and pepper sandwiches to live in expensive New York.

Her new path took her down a tiny alley that she knew had an outlet by Union Square Park. From there she would cross over to Chelsea and head up toward her apartment. Midway through the alley, she heard a loud crash over by the collection of dumpsters. She slowed to a stop - her senses alert. This part of town is not normally dangerous, but there were no people around. She peered cautiously toward the darkened corner, poised and ready to run if necessary. She reached into the thigh pocket of her running shorts and pulled out her house keys, threading them through her fingers, creating a makeshift weapon. It was a tip she learned in a self-defense class at University.

She jumped and almost ran when a trash can lid clattered to the pavement behind her. Turning quickly, moving into a slightly crouched position, she sighed with relief and then laughed at her own nervousness when she realized that the source of this noise was nothing more than a stray cat. He walked out of the darkness and sat before her, regarding her gravely with large gray eyes. He was a large Calico, white with patches of gray and black. He was very regal even there amid the city garbage.

"Well hello there, handsome." Charlotte said to the cat. "Was that you making all that noise? I thought you must be 10 times as big." Not surprisingly, the cat did not reply, but simply continued to stare at her.

"Aren't you gorgeous." She said, looking admiring at the rather large, graceful feline. He rose at this and walked lithely over to her, rubbing his head against her calf, mewing softly in a rather deep voice.

"Are you a stray, baby?" She asked, as she leaned down to rub his head and back. The cat arched up into her had, his large and strangely expressive eyes looking up at her almost longingly. "No collar, and no offense darling, but you look a little shaggy and thin. Are you hungry?" At this, the cat rose on his hind legs and placed his front paws on Charlotte's thigh. He let out a half purr, half meow that sounded almost like a plea. Charlotte got the distinct feeling that he was asking to come home with her. The idea formed in her head as if he'd spoken. Always a cat lover, she thought: This might be just what I need. She reached down for him and he nearly leapt into her arms. She was pleasantly surprised as he rubbed his large soft head against her jaw and neck, purring loudly in contentment.

"Okay sweetie, let's go home then." She said to her new companion. She carried her new roommate the few blocks home. When she opened the door to her apartment, he jumped lightly down from her arms and walked about the place, seemingly surveying the rooms. He walked in a methodical pattern from the kitchen, to the living room/dining room, a quick look at the bathroom, and then her bedroom. He hopped up onto a windowsill just behind her bed, looking out the window briefly before turning back to regard Charlotte.

"I see you've made yourself at home - so that's good." She laughed. "How about some tuna? It's all I have now - but I'll get some supplies after I get showered and dressed." He stepped over the headboard and walked across Charlotte's neatly made bed, perching himself on the footboard near her. Charlotte leaned down toward this lovely, strange creature and was amused as he leaned up to her face and sniffed her cheek softly before rubbing a sandy tongue across her salty skin.

"You're welcome." She said in response. "C'mon then." And walked back into the kitchen, followed closely by the cat. She opened a can of tuna, draining it and dumping the contents onto a salad plate. Then she filled a small porcelain bowl with water and put both down on the floor at the edge of the kitchen door. The cat looked up at her for a moment, his tail flicking excitedly, before he moved over to the food and began to tuck in. 

"Bon appetite. I'm taking a shower."

She turned away and walked toward her room, untying the tee shirt from her waist and pulling her still damp sports bra over her head as she walked. She kicked off her running shoes and pulled off her socks, finally pulling off the running shorts. She gathered up her running clothes and dropped them into the laundry hamper. Charlotte was naked as she walked back toward the bathroom door. Suddenly she paused - surprised to see that the cat had left his meal in the kitchen, and was now sitting in the living room looking at the bathroom door, or rather, staring at her. As she watched the cat watching her, she could have sworn his eyes roamed the full length of her body, before returning to her face. There was something in the way he looked at her that was almost unnerving. His tail began to flick from side to side, as if eyeing his prey.

"Do you mind?" she asked, wrapping her arms around her nakedness. Amused at her own flight of fancy, she shook her head and laughed. She walked into the bathroom and closed the door with a decisive click. 

After showering, Charlotte dressed in a pink cotton sundress that barely reached her knees. It was going to be another very hot day. She ran gel through her shoulder length curly hair, but decided to let it dry naturally. She had hair the shade of deep auburn, and though of a pale complexion, did not have the type of skin that was completely covered with freckles. She brushed some black mascara on her thick lashes, which brought out the green in her eyes. A dab of lip gloss on her lips and she was ready to go. She walked into her room and saw that the cat had settled himself on the bed. 

It never occurred to Charlotte until now that he might have fleas. She shuddered at the thought, and approached the cat to inspect his fur. As she ran her fingers across his coat, he rolled onto his back exposing his lean belly. She saw that, though thin and a bit scruffy, this cat was well groomed. He must be naturally fastidious, she thought. She absently scratched his tummy, and he let out a low soft mew of pleasure. She noticed that he was not neutered - he still had all of his male "equipment." 

"Okay, I'll be back with some things for you, handsome." She leaned down impulsively and planted a kiss on the top of his head. He purred loudly and gazed up into her eyes with an almost loving expression on his feline face. One soft paw lightly touched her cheek - his claws still all fully retracted so that there was no scratch, only a slight love tap. "I like you, too." She said.

After a very efficient trip to the pet store, Charlotte had acquired an automated litter box, litter, and a supply of wet and dry cat food, and some treats. On a whim she also bought a few toys and a soft brush.

She arranged to have the supplies delivered, since there were so many large packages. She stopped at a bagel shop and got some breakfast and a large coffee, grabbing the newspaper before heading home to her new roommate. Charlotte felt an odd exhilaration - and she reflected on the fact that she hadn't even realized how lonely she'd been. She'd broken up with her boyfriend over three months earlier. When he moved out, she was at first happy to have the apartment to herself again, but began to dislike the solitude - particularly at night when she was laying alone in her big empty bed. It hadn't occurred to her to seek company from a pet - but this may be just what the doctor ordered, so to speak: companionship and affection without commitment. As for the rest, well - that is what vibrators are for, she thought with a slight smirk.

As she stood outside her apartment door, wrestling in her bag for her keys, she thought she heard the bathroom door open inside the apartment. She stopped to listen intently - pressing her ear to the door. But there was no further sound. Her overactive imagination and the lack of caffeine, she thought. She opened the door to see the cat waiting for her in the foyer.

"Hi babe." She said brightly. The cat walked toward her and purred happily, rubbing his body along her leg. She deposited the newspaper and breakfast on the dining table, and dropped her purse in the bedroom, kicking off her sandals. As she walked past the bathroom, she noted that the glass of the shower door was still wet and the bathroom still smelled of her soap. She hadn't realized it was so strong -- the scent lingered a long time.

She sat at the table, taking her breakfast out of the paper bag and spreading the newspaper open on the table's surface. She read as she ate. The cat leapt up onto one of the other dining chairs, and looked at the newspaper spread out before him. She was amazed at how he seemed fixated on the paper - and assumed that the pattern created by the ink on the page somehow fascinated him. 

"Want the sports section?" She asked facetiously. He looked up at her curiously, and she laughed as she bit into a half of her bagel. The intercom buzzer sounded, and both Charlotte and the cat looked toward the door. 

She walked over and inquired over the intercom, and hearing as she expected that it was the delivery from the pet store, she buzzed him in. She ran back to her room to get a tip from her purse for the deliveryman. As she opened the door, she noted that the cat had positioned himself in the foyer and was watching the proceedings intently. The deliveryman was in his late 20s, and rather flirtatious. He brought in the two bags and the large package containing the litter box into the apartment, and set them down near the kitchen, looking around boldly. He tried to make small talk with Charlotte as she handed him the tip, and wasn't really taking his cue to leave, as he should. She was slightly uncomfortable, since this strange man was in her house, so she politely walked over to the door and held it open for him - a clear signal that he should go now. He tried to ignore the broad message and started talking about pet care and being a dog versus a cat person. He leaned over toward the cat as if to pet him. The cat walked around in a circle, then facing the deliveryman arched his back menacingly and hissed, emitting a low feline growl from the back of his throat. The deliveryman straightened up abruptly, stepping back. The cat continued to advance, a low panther like growl getting louder. At this, the deliveryman looked nervously at Charlotte, asking if the cat was aggressive. She told him that she honestly couldn't say. He walked nervously toward the door - muttering a hurried "thanks" as he left.

Charlotte looked back at the cat, wondering where the aggression had come from. He showed no further sign of any agitation now that the man was gone. Rather, he moved toward Charlotte and purred as he rubbed his head against her leg. 

"My hero. I thought he'd never leave." She said, leaning down and scratching his back.

The cat stood up on hind legs, indicating that he wanted to be picked up. Charlotte obliged and pulled him into her arms, cradling him like a baby. He purred loudly, mewing slightly as he rubbed his head against her breast. One paw reached up and padded softly against her cleavage.

"Uhh... goodness, there's no doubt you're a male, is there? Straight for the breasts." She leaned her head down and planted a kiss on the top of his furry head. He gazed up at her, his eyes half closed in contentment. She realized that his fur smelled like her soap - how strange. But then she reasoned, maybe he had prowled around the wet bathroom after she left the apartment. The scent of that soap really was pretty strong.

"Let's finish breakfast and get you set up." 

Later that night, the pair had already settled into a cozy routine. The air conditioners kept the apartment very cool, so Charlotte didn't even mind that the cat seemed to crave contact with her almost all the time. In fact, she rather enjoyed it. As she lay on the cushy sofa, watching a movie, the cat curled into a ball between her thighs, sometimes even looking at the TV as if he was watching as well. While Charlotte got ready for bed, the cat waited at the foot of the bed for her to join him. Slipping in between the cool sheets, she watched, fascinated, as the large cat walked gracefully up the length of her body, touching his pink nose to hers, flicking that sandy tongue across her face by the corner of her mouth like a good night kiss. Then he settled down on the mattress next to her, his tail gently stroking across her bare arm as he purred softly and closed his eyes.

"Goodnight, sweetheart." She said, as she drifted off to sleep.

Her lover cradled her body from behind as they lay side by side. He was murmuring soft words of love to her in a language she didn't understand. He planted sweet kisses along her neck, up to her ear, gently catching her earlobe between his teeth as she lightly gasped. His strong, large hands moved over her, cupping her breasts firmly as his fingers sought out the nipples that hardened under his touch. He pulled down the sheet that covered her body, and turning her onto her back, pulled the silk chemise up her body, over her head and off in one graceful movement. He was already naked, and his long, lean body was chiseled and defined, his salt and pepper hair was rather long, well past his ears and almost to his shoulders. His eyes were the most arresting feature of all - large, wide set and pale gray, under thick dark brows. He smiled at Charlotte, and in the dark she could see that his teeth were perfect and very white.

He caressed her face with his large, elegant hand. "You're so beautiful, and so very sexy, my sweet darling." He said. His voice was deep and he had a slight accent that she could not define.

"Who are you?" She asked, as she ran one hand up his pronounced abs and chest, reveling in the velvety feel of his hard body and smooth, cool skin.

"You can call me Lucas, my love."

"Lucas, am I dreaming?"

"What do you think, my beautiful Charlotte?" 

"If I'm dreaming, I can do anything I want..."

"And what is it that you would want, if I told you that you were indeed dreaming?"

"I'd want you to make love to me, Lucas"

"In that case, my beautiful girl, you are most definitely dreaming." His mouth came down over hers, gently pushing her lips apart as his tongue moved inside to plunder the sweetness within. He growled in the back of his throat as she responded feverishly to his kisses, winding her arms around his neck and threading her fingers through his thick hair. He moved on top of her, pressing her body back into the soft mattress, his legs pushing hers apart as his sex, which was growing increasingly large and hard, moved against the already wet folds between her thighs. She moaned in pleasure as she felt him tease her with his erection. 

His mouth moved over her face, down her jaw line to her neck, and then traced the lines of her collarbone. He stopped suddenly and moved back up to reclaim her mouth, his body moving against hers in a slow, sensual arc. She was likewise moving against him in a soft, feline way, as she ran her hands down his back, feeling his taut muscles as she pressed his body into hers. 

Lucas moved down to run his tongue over the nipple of her left breast, then taking as much of the tender flesh into his mouth as he could. She arched her back and clamped his head to her, groaning loudly now in delight. He raised his head and said hoarsely: "I couldn't wait to taste these luscious breasts ever since I first saw you."

He then moved to the right breast and repeated the action, but impatient, Charlotte pulled him up and held his face in her hands, looking fiercely into his now dark gray eyes, begging: "Please, Lucas, I want you inside me!"

"Mmmm," he growled, "One more thing first." And he moved with lightening speed down her body, his face slamming into her warm, wet pussy. Charlotte practically screamed, feeling a sensation like she was falling suddenly from a great height.

His tongue parted her and plunged inside, and she could feel every inch of it as he moved in and out of her, then he dragged his tongue up over her clit, making her shout out his name in ecstasy. He closed his lips over that hard little knob and lightly sucked, his teeth making the slightly pressure. She was writhing wildly, thrusting upward toward him as tears of pleasure ran down her cheeks. As she felt his fingers slip inside her wetness, she exploded into orgasm, holding his hair and rocking until the aftershocks slowed. Her heart raced and her skin tingled from the electricity he created in her. 

Just as suddenly, Lucas rose up and crushed her lips with his. She screamed into his mouth as he jammed his penis into her still pulsating pussy. Charlotte pushed her pelvis up to meet his, stroke after stroke, with a sensual intensity that caused a grinding against her clit. Soon, she knew she was readying to cum again, and she frantically whispered in his ear that he should not stop - that she was going to climax again. He raised his head to look down at her as he obeyed her command. Lucas told her that he wanted to watch her face as she came. He soon had his wish, and this one was even more intense than the first as wave after wave of pleasure shook her frame. He felt her pussy convulsing around his penis, and this was the final straw for him, as well - and he shouted as he exploded into her.

They lay still, panting from the excitement and exertion, sweat gleaming on their naked skin in the moonlight streaming through the window. Lucas planted soft, sensual kisses on Charlotte's swollen lips. He slid to her side and pulled her into his arms as they both fell into a deep, contented sleep.

The morning light fell on Charlotte's face, causing her to emerge reluctantly from sleep. Nooo, she thought. I want to lay here with my Lucas a little longer. She curled back toward his side of the bed, finding only empty space. Her sleep-addled brain began to focus more clearly and she realized that it was all a dream. The disappointment was sharp. She opened her eyes and released a long, sad sigh. The cat was sitting on the bed, staring at her with his large round eyes.

Charlotte was surprised to find prickly tears forming in her eyes. How ridiculous! It was a great dream, yes, but nothing to cry about. Boy, she must really be horny, she thought with a laugh. The cat moved closer and rubbed his large soft head against her face, purring deeply. She scratched his head and ears, and he flopped down next to her, gazing up with a strange affectionate expression.

"Maybe I should call you Lucas, what do you think, handsome?" His tail flickered happily and he rolled onto his back, emitting a deep mew. She absently scratched his belly as she remembered how vivid last night's dream had been.


Shift In The Right Direction Ch. 01



"Want some breakfast, baby?" She asked, and he sat back up and walked to the foot of the bed. Charlotte threw back the sheet and paused, shocked, to realize that she was not wearing her chemise - she was naked. "What the...?" The cat was looking at her from the foot of the bed, and nonchalantly reached up one paw and began to clean himself.

Charlotte got up, finding her nightgown hanging on the headboard, and slipped it on over her head. 

"C'mon, Lucas, let's make some coffee." The cat leapt down to the floor and led the way to the kitchen. Jeez, it's like he understands everything I say, she thought.



Shift In The Right Direction Ch. 02



On Sundays, Charlotte usually met up with friends for brunch to spend a lazy couple of hours over a nice long gossip, Eggs Benedict and an extra spicy Bloody Mary. But that morning, she was feeling a little listless and not up for human company - at least not that kind of human company.

She sat at the table with an enormous cup of freshly brewed coffee, pen in hand, the Times crossword puzzle spread out before her - which was usually one of her favorite mental exercises. No matter how she tried, however, she couldn't manage to focus. Her mind kept wandering back to her luxurious dream the night before. Charlotte sat back in her dining chair, sighing wistfully, cradling the porcelain mug in her hands. It was as if she could still feel her dream lover's hands, smell his skin, and feel the pressure of his lips. Her body ached in tender places. Charlotte's eyes wandered over to Lucas, her new feline roommate. He was sitting on the dining chair to her right, regarding her quite seriously.

His large gray eyes met her gaze, and he stepped deftly up onto the table right over the paper. He was purring softly as he moved close to Charlotte's face, gently touching her nose with his.

"Hi baby. Just you and me today. Is that okay with you?"

Lucas rubbed his head against her jaw line and let out a soft mew. Charlotte assumed that meant he was. He walked a half circle counter clockwise, and then unceremoniously dropped to his side on the newspaper. He looked languidly up at Charlotte and rolled halfway onto his back, displaying his lean tummy at her in anticipation of a belly rub. She moved her cup to just one hand and reached down to scratch his soft underside. He stretched to his full length and the purring grew louder. He continued to look into her eyes as he meowed with satisfaction deep in the back of his throat.

"I tell you what... I wish someone would do that for me once in a while, you know?"

Just then, a delicious thought struck. A massage! That is what she really needed.

"Ooh - thanks for the good idea, handsome." She rose and went into the bedroom to browse her PC for a nearby spa that might be able to take her on short notice.

Lucas leapt off the table and followed her to the desk. Charlotte found a listing not far from her building, and clicking on their services menu, seeing that they offered aromatherapy massage - one of her favorite treatments. Picking the phone up from the cradle, she dialed their number. She asked the receptionist if there were any available massage appointments - and was delighted to hear that they had one at 3PM.

She booked a 90-minute aromatherapy massage, and was about to hang up when she heard the woman ask one more question.

"I'm sorry - what did you ask?... A preference regarding a masseur or a masseuse? Uhm... not really - it's cool either way.... Really? He's the only one free? I'm sure it will be fine - thanks, I'll see you then. Bye."

At this point, Lucas jumped up onto the surface of the desk - lithely avoiding hitting the keyboard, Charlotte noticed gratefully. He looked straight at the screen, seemingly with concentration. She smiled at this as she absently stroked his head, allowing her hand to trail softly down his back and run along his tail.

"Three o'clock!" She said to Lucas. "I'd better get dressed and go get a mani/pedi, since I have the time. Nothing worse that having a stranger touch your feet when your toes have chipped polish."

Lucas's tail whipped side to side as he regarded her silently.

She jumped up from her desk and went into the bathroom, turning on the shower as she stripped out of her nightie. Realizing that she'd forgotten to grab a fresh towel, she walked back into the narrow hall between the bathroom and bedroom and opened the linen closet, pulling out a fluffy white towel. As she did, an embroidered hand towel that had been tucked between the bath sheets fell to the floor. She reached down to get it - and realized it had fallen behind a box on the floor. She frowned for a moment as she pulled the box out of the closet and into the hallway. Charlotte couldn't remember what was in this carton - and muttered to herself "what the heck is this?" 

As she pulled the lid off and saw the top layer of contents, she immediately remembered what that box was, laughing at her own faulty memory. There in front of her was a collection of clothing that her ex-boyfriend had forgotten to take when he hastily moved out in the spring. On top was a pair of very beat-up, faded jeans - they had been her favorite of his pants. They were torn and threadbare in a number of places. She had long been a sucker for the look of old blue jeans on a guy with a nice butt. Charlotte always wanted to jump his bones when he wore those jeans. Under the pants was a vintage tee shirt she'd given him that had the Fender guitar logo on the front. It had once been black, but now was so worn and softened that it was more of a soft gray. 

Lucas walked up to the box as Charlotte surveyed its contents. She pulled a pair of very scuffed old motorcycle boots from the bottom, sighing with a wry grin.

"The jackass left behind the only things that made him look super hot." She said humorously to the curious cat. "Oh well, to hell with it." She threw the stuff back in the box haphazardly, and jammed the lid back on top - kicking it back into the bottom of the closet and closing the door with a decisive click.

Charlotte jumped in the running shower, completely forgetting that she never did retrieve the fallen hand towel. The water was tepid, just as she wanted on a warm day like this. She enjoyed the freshening feeling of the semi cool water on her skin. As she lavished body wash across her wet flesh, she found herself thinking about that incredibly vivid sex dream she'd had the night before. So intent was she on remembering the details of her encounter with her mystery lover, she didn't notice the tiny red hickey on her right breast, just below the areola. 

Charlotte's soapy hands began to explore her lower body - eventually giving up all pretense of washing and surrendering to the budding pleasure she was bringing to herself as she slipped her fingers inside her warm and strangely over-sensitive pussy. For a moment, she laughed at the idea that having sex in a dream could cause her to feel sore the next day - but then quickly dismissed the thought as a growing wave of pleasure began to build. Reaching for the hand held shower head, Charlotte adjusted the spray to the most intense setting. Leaning back against the cool tiles, she aimed the jet directly at her clitoris. This was one of her favorite means of masturbation - and this day, as always - it brought her very quickly to a cascading climax that left her thighs shaking and made her slightly dizzy. As she cried out during her orgasm, she saw Dream Lucas's strong, handsome face just as she had the night before.

Breathless, but delightedly laughing at the lovely fluttering sensations now ebbing through her body, Charlotte returned the hand held unit to its usual setting and replaced it in the holder so she could finish her shower properly.

Some time later, as she quickly diffused her curly hair with a blow dryer, Charlotte found herself thinking of her Dream Lucas once again. Her ability to recall his features and the timbre of his voice was remarkable, she thought. With most of her dreams, the feelings might be intense, but the details were far less precise. And usually the images would shift and change dramatically until they were just a composite of several people to whom she ascribed an identity. But Dream Lucas was a sharply defined, lucid memory.

"Face it, honey: You're just horny." She said to the mirror. The bathroom door creaked slightly just then, and feline Lucas pushed his way through the widening opening, leaping lightly up on top of the vanity. 

"Aren't you afraid of this?" Charlotte asked - pointing the blow dryer in the cat's direction. He just partially closed his eyes and tilted his head toward the rush of hot air - his soft fur rippling back. She turned off the device and scratched his gray and white head before wrapping the cord around the blow dryer's handle and tucking it inside the cabinet.

"I'm outta here for a few hours, babydoll." She said to her new roommate. "See you later, hopefully with a whole new attitude." She dropped a light kiss on the top of the cat's head as she walked out.

The spa occupied a brownstone on West 18th between Fifth Avenue and Sixth. It was the kind of sleek, dim, hushed space that immediately made one feel pampered and relaxed. Charlotte had spent the last two hours at a nail salon getting a manicure and pedicure, so already felt smartly groomed and prepared for more hedonistic pleasure.

She followed a graceful young woman dressed in a spa uniform suggestive of O.R. scrubs -- if Armani designed O.R. scrubs, that is. They walked along the narrow corridor lit by flickering tea lights until they reached a treatment room at the very back of the first floor. The room was painted a neutral shade of taupe, with walls clad in elegant drapes. It conveyed warmth and taste. New age music was playing softly from a hidden speaker overhead. A padded massage table covered in blankets and billowy sheets stood in the center of the room. A few pillar candles in glass hurricanes provided the room's only illumination. The attendant pointed Charlotte to a place where she could leave her clothing - instructing her to remove everything and slip under the blanket and top sheet, lying face down to start. She assured Charlotte that Jeffrey, her masseur, would be along in a few moments. 

Before she left the room, she offered Charlotte an eye mask that had been soaking in a cucumber and ice water bath. She said that it would restore tired eyes during the massage and enhance the experience. Wheeling a tiny table next to the massage bed, she left it within easy reach, suggesting that Charlotte place the mask over her eyes after settling on the massage table.

After the attendant left, Charlotte gratefully slipped off her sandals, dress and underwear, hanging her clothes on the hook on the inside of the door, while tucking her shoes and handbag under a chair in the corner. Using a hair band, she pulled her thick mane of curly red hair off of her face and neck into a simple bun, and then slipped between the soft cool sheets. She made herself comfortable on the massage table - lifting and repositioning her breasts slightly. Finally, she reached toward the tiny table and slipped the cucumber and lavender-scented mask over her head, placing the moist cool fabric over her eyes. She had just rested her head when she heard a light tap on the door.

"Hi, you can come in." She said. Even in her own ears, her voice sounded deep and drowsy.

She heard the door open and close with a tiny click, and she heard a deep baritone voice say hello.

"Hi Jeffrey" she said - blindly reaching out her right hand to offer it to him. "I'm Charlotte." She said sweetly.

"Actually, Jeffrey had a conflict at the last minute, so I'm replacing him. I hope you don't mind. I promise you, I've been doing this even longer than him - a lot longer, actually." There was humor in his voice, but there was something else - a sense of deja vu...

She felt the pressure of his strong hand on the middle of her back through the blanket and sheet. It was very reassuring - and Charlotte felt herself melt under it. 

"Now..." he began. "Let's start with identifying the aromatherapy that you need. First, tell me what you would like to get from this massage."

Charlotte suppressed the desire to blurt out "a massive orgasm" to this man she couldn't even see. The thought came unbidden, however, and she had to stifle a giggle that surfaced as she imagined saying it to a stranger in such an intimate setting.

"Uh... I'm not exactly sure..." she trailed off uncertainly.

He tried to help with some likely suggestions:

"So, are you very stressed? Or do you have some particular aches and pains?"

"I'm... restless." She finally said - feeling rather silly. "I mean, I am feeling out of balance, I guess."

"I understand." There was warmth to his deep voice that seemed to penetrate her very bones. She found herself relaxing under the firm pressure of his strong hand, still softly pressing into her back. When he lifted his hand to walk over to the cabinets, she felt momentarily bereft. The spot on her back that he'd been touching now felt cold and vulnerable. She willed herself to remain patient.

She heard the very faint tinkling sound of glass bottles, and then a most heavenly scent wafted up to her from some place below the headrest. It was a combination of grapefruit, bergamot oil and a subtle hint of cedar wood. Charlotte inhaled deeply and felt the tension in her shoulders begin to loosen. And she sensed rather than felt that he was leaning very close to her.

When he spoke, she felt an electric thrill go through her. He could not be more than an inch or two from her ear. His voice was almost a whisper, and she felt the trace of his warm breath on her cheek.

"How is this making you feel?" 

She inhaled once more in order to compose herself, before answering.

"It is... wonderful..." she said. It was her intention to elaborate, but the power of speech failed her as he slipped his hand over the back of her neck as he responded: 

"Good. This will make you feel much better. Take another deep breath in through your nose, hold it for a few moments, then let it out softly through your mouth."

Charlotte complied, holding her breath for about four beats before allowing it to slowly escape her lips. She could hear him at the counter, and from the very muted sounds of bottles being shaken; she thought he must have been mixing the oils together for her massage. Her anticipation began to build as she lay there, essentially blindfolded, nude except for the sheet and blanket covering her.

"Okay." He began, again with his mouth very near her ear. "I'm going to begin with your back and shoulders." As he said these words, the sheet and blanket were being gently folded back and downward, until he'd exposed all of her back down to the place where her spine met the topmost crease of her ass. She knew he must be able to see the dimples at the top of her butt, and the birthmark that looked like a tiny butterfly in the small of her back. His strong hands pressed her into the cushions of the massage table as he moved her slightly, and quite effortlessly, into a better position. He slipped his hands down the backs of her arms, grasping her wrists and pulling them a few inches away from her torso to rest at her sides, palms up, tilted toward her body. The way he took command of her body was very stimulating, and she found her skin tingling with goose bumps.

"Are you cold, Charlotte? Would you like me to make it warmer in here?" He didn't miss a trick. When she heard him use her name, she felt a fluttering in her abdomen. There was an intimacy to it that she did not expect.

She was lost in thought over how this was making her feel, so forgot for a moment to answer his question. Suddenly she realized that he had paused, hands on her arms, awaiting her response.

"N-no, I'm okay - it will be fine. Thanks." She stammered.

"Okay, let me know how you find the pressure - if it's too deep or too soft."

"Mmmm-hmmm." Was the only response she could muster, because at this point he was working the aromatic oils into her skin with his strong, large hands and she began to melt. It was if the very bones in her body had turned to rubber. Charlotte felt as if she'd lost all sense of feeling except for the places he happened to be touching her. It felt perfect - the massage was deep enough to make her taut muscles submit - but not so intense that it was bruising.

He started at her upper back and shoulders - working both shoulder blades and her shoulder girdle. His hands moved up to her neck, and he turned her head gently with both hands so he could work the tender bits of tension behind her ears. As he leaned over her from the right side of the table, she felt the fingers of her right hand brush up against his pants. For a several minutes, she simply allowed her hand to stay limp and let her knuckles passively brush against the front of his trousers as he moved. Charlotte felt a rush of moisture between her legs when she thought about the situation. Here she was, naked and blindfolded, lying on a cushioned bed while a man with a great voice, who smelled wonderful, prodded her body and rubbed scented oil into her skin. They were close enough to be lovers - it was very intimate. The thin veneer of professionalism had not been broken, but to Charlotte it was as fragile as spun sugar.

"Hey, try to relax." He said suddenly, very close to her ear.

She let out a nervous laugh and expelled her breath - only then realizing that she been holding it. 

"Sorry - it's a bad habit." She consciously tried to put thoughts of sex out of her mind and began to unclench her shoulders, neck and back. As he felt her body begin to relent - he murmured appreciatively.

"That's better - doesn't that feel better to you, too?" He asked.

When Charlotte said yes, it was little more than a contented sigh. But he was so close to her he understood perfectly.

As he moved further down her back, he added more of the aromatherapy oil to his hands. She noticed that it felt warm as he slipped his now very slick hands down the sides of her lower spine - deeply putting a Shiatsu like pressure on the lumbar region. It meant that her pelvis was being pushed into the massage bed by his actions, and she felt another rush of wetness. His hands were essentially at the very top of her buttocks. She began to fantasize wildly about him losing control and grasping her firm ass with his oily hands, and working his long fingers into her. Obviously, such behavior didn't happen in legitimate spas such as this one. The staff would soon be fired. She never wanted anyone to violate protocol so much in her life. 

"What is a habit?" He asked, pulling her out of yet another sexual fog.

"I'm sorry?" She was confused for a moment, and didn't know what his question meant. Then quickly she realized that he was referring to what she'd said a few moments before, when he had to tell her to relax.

"Oh - right - I meant that I tend to stay on guard most of the time, I guess. It's not that often that I'm not in control of the situation..." She trailed off, hating how trite that must sound.

He was quiet for many moments, and she had the absurd idea that he might be turned off by this alpha female comment. This made her feel edgy and strangely depressed. Unable to help it - she continued on:

"It's not that I'm a control freak - I'm not - I am just not used to - uh..."

She couldn't find the right way to finish that sentence without sounding pathetic. She was about to say "I am just not used to being touched..." but the idea of confessing her loneliness to this man was unthinkable, particularly since, though she'd never laid eyes on him, he was becoming more sexy by the minute.

"You're not used to having anyone do something for you, right?" He said it softly and without any touch of irony. He continued:

"Let me guess: you are the type who always takes care of others - but it gets very one-sided after a while, doesn't it?" 

Charlotte couldn't answer, and felt a lump forming in her throat. She tried to mentally shrug it off - what is wrong with me? She thought impatiently. Was she really so lonely that the first man who touches her, who makes feel like a woman, makes her burst into tears? 

"It makes me unhappy to think of you being taken advantage of. Everyone needs to be taken care of sometimes, and I bet that you deserve it." He was now moving his hands up her back, pressing her spine into alignment with his forearms. She felt that his upper body was merely inches from her own.




Shift In The Right Direction Ch. 02



"Why do you think I deserve it?" Charlotte's voice was slightly shaky, so she tried to mask it by dropping a register. Her voice sounded very husky, as a result.

She then felt his lips very near her ear, as his hands cupped her shoulders, squeezing gently. "I have an instinct about people sometimes. I have one about you. I think you are probably wonderful."

Like tumblers falling into place, Charlotte suddenly realized that the deja vu she thought she felt when hearing him speak was not deja vu at all - it was a real memory. His was the voice of her Dream Lucas! She gasped - doubting herself too much to speak. How could this be? Was the dream a precognition of some sort? Was she now unconsciously retrofitting her memory of the dream to incorporate this man because she found him so alluring?

"You don't have to say anything." He continued. "I hope I didn't offend you by telling you that." He added quietly.

"No - quite the opposite." She managed to say, her voice barely a whisper.

"How is the music?" he asked, obviously trying to change the subject.

Charlotte laughed nervously in response.

"I think we're beyond the small talk at this point - no need to change the subject." She said, her humor returning.

"Okay." He said with equal humor in his voice. She could almost hear him smiling at this. "So do you have someone special?" His tone was very neutral, but she sensed that he really cared about the answer.

Charlotte felt him moving both hands to the left side of her back, working the area to the left of her spine. His hands curved down her side, fingers gently sliding across the side of her left breast. The fingers of her left hand were again brushing against the front of his pants as he leaned across her body. She was momentarily caught up in a fantasy - one in which he moved his hands all the way around her body, cupping her breast and pinching the nipple with his oil-slicked fingers, while pressing his growing erection into her right hand.

"I'm single at the moment." Charlotte responded finally. "I was seeing someone several months ago, but that ended."

"I'm sorry..." he said vaguely. Though he didn't sound sorry.

"Don't be - it was the right thing. He and I were looking for different things." She said simply.

"Ah, yes." He responded, his hands now both on the right side of her spine. "What are you looking for?" She should have seen the question coming, but was unprepared to answer it.

"Good question." She began uncertainly, and then decided to be very honest. "I want to find someone who isn't threatened by a woman with a career - who helps me to be even more myself. Someone strong, confident and independent. He should be smart, and very experienced - no boys masquerading as men."

He pulled her right arm gently outward and upward, and was kneading the taut flesh of upper bicep, elbow, and forearm, finally ending at her hands - the pressure was intoxicating as he massaged her hand with both of his own, and then pulled downward on each of her fingers. His thumbs lingered for a while in the middle of her palm, causing a very erotic sensation. She was becoming extremely sexually aroused.

"So you're looking for a real man who likes women. That doesn't seem to be asking for too much. How about money? Looks? Surely those things are somewhat important?"

She laughed at this. "That stuff is sometimes hard to ignore. I mean, usually, the first thing you notice about someone is his looks. And in a city like New York, money is often an issue. But are these the things that really matter to me? Definitely not. I make my own way in the world, and we all know that the allure of someone's looks fades really fast. Wow - that feels amazing."

Charlotte could not help herself from remarking upon what he was doing to the tender flesh of her right foot. He had moved around to the other end of the table, and had folded the sheet sideways to expose her right leg, tucking the end of the fold into the space between her legs. Taking her by the ankle, he pulled her legs even further apart, and was now pressing his thumbs into the soft skin beneath the ball of her foot. The sensation was practically making Charlotte shake from excitement. 

"You are a runner?" It was phrased as a question, but he seemed to be making a statement. "This can be tough on your feet. There is a lot of muscle tension here." As he said "here" he kneaded the ball of her foot with both hands, and without meaning to, she released a gasp of pleasure and pain.

"Am I hurting you?" 

"Uh, no. Don't stop - keep doing what you're doing." Her breath was a little ragged and her voice had again become quite husky. 

"Runners often have issues with their calves, knees, the hamstring muscles in the upper thighs, and the gluteus. Let's focus some attention there." 

He continued to manipulate the muscles of Charlotte's right leg, moving from foot to ankle, ankle to calf, calf to knee, and the on up into her lean, sinewy thigh. He moved the sheet even further to the side, exposing most of the flesh of her firm ass, tucking the sheet end in order to cover the actual crevasse between her cheeks. He tugged the sheet, making it cover her genitals, but as he did so the soft cool fabric became tightly stretched against her sensitive parts. This served to further excite the already wet folds between her legs.

As his strong, oily hands made their way up to where the top of her thigh met the curve of her ass, she could no longer keep quiet. His thumbs and long fingers moved sensually over her skin, pressing deeply and causing her body to flex under his ministrations. She began to moan very softly as he pressed her body into the table. Using his entire forearm, he applied pressure from her hipbone down to her mid thigh. She could feel his warm breath on her skin as he was leaned into her body. 

Then something happened that she wasn't sure she'd felt. It was if a light kiss had brushed the curve of her ass. Charlotte was sure that his lips had just lightly skimmed her right buttocks, but it was so fleeting and was followed by the pressure of his hands, that she could not really be sure. She sighed, loving this rather dangerous turn of events.

"Is this okay?" he asked. His voice now, too, had become rather husky.

"Everything you are doing is great. Keep going..." she said in a rather breathy voice. A tiny sheen of perspiration was beginning to break out on Charlotte's skin. The sexual excitement was coursing through her, and her skin became overheated in the warm, dark room.

"Are you too warm, what can I do?" He asked softly, as he moved over to the other side of the table in preparation for working on her left leg.

"It is very warm. It won't bother me if you remove the blanket and sheet..." She had barely finished uttering the words when she felt them fly off of her body with a whoosh. He reapplied scented oil to his hands and ran them down both of her thighs, pausing at the backs of her knees so that he could pull her legs even further apart. She knew he was looking at her body, and she never felt more sexy or alive.

Charlotte became convinced that her sex dream last night was a foretelling of this experience. The sense that this was meant to happen gave her a boldness that she'd never have felt otherwise. She knew that what they were doing could cost him his job - but he obviously wanted to do it every bit as much as she did.

He began on her left foot, pressing the tender places and moving up her leg as he had with the right. She now allowed her moans of pleasure to come forth as he touched her in particularly pleasing ways. As his hands moved over her thighs and ass, the noises he drew from her became more intense. She tried to not be so loud as to draw attention, but she sensed that her pleasure was exciting, him, as well. 

As he leaned into the shiatsu pressure, she felt that his body was very warm. Curious to see how far she could go with this situation, she ventured:

"If this room is very warm for you, as well, and you want to take your shirt off, I wouldn't mind. I mean, I'm completely unclothed and I find it very warm in here."

She felt him straighten, and heard the sound of him tugging his shirt off over his head. "Thanks, that is better." His voice was like dark honey in her ears.

He moved up to her left arm, which he pulled away from her body and began to knead methodically from the upper arm and armpit, down to her hand. As he worked her bicep and tricep muscles, her forearm and the back of her hand brushed against his naked chest, which was covered in fine, soft hair. His chest was rock-hard and she felt the ripples of his abs. Gently, she brushed her fingers more deliberately against his flat stomach. He didn't flinch or seem to show any reaction, though she thought that she could hear his breathing become more pronounced.

As he placed her left arm gently back down on the table, he leaned across her to press his forearms again down the sides of her spine. As he did this, Charlotte could feel his naked chest against her skin. His face was mere inches from her skin. Her left hand was now brushing against the front of his pants, which had a distinct bulge that had not been there previously. She brazenly pushed her hand into that bulge and rubbed from top to bottom. 

This finally caused a reaction from her sexy masseur. He expelled a sigh of pleasure, and caught at her left hand with his right. He arrested her movements, but did not remove her hand from its position against his erection.

Charlotte felt him lean forward, toward her left ear. 

"What is it that you want?" He asked, his lips against her ear and his voice barely above a whisper.

"Everything... anything you want." She whispered back.

He pressed a fervent kiss into her ear, eliciting a gasp from her in response. His right hand slid from her shoulder, down her back, and over the curve of her ass, pausing at the top of her thigh. Then, as she had fantasized earlier, he slipped a finger into her hot, wet folds. Coming in contact with her moist pussy, he groaned and ran hot kisses down the side of her neck. Charlotte was arching her back and moving her legs to give him better access. He teased her with his fingers, skimming over her clit and dipping only a fraction of an inch into her.

"Please..." She begged, but she didn't even really know what she was begging for.

"Turn over" he breathed into her ear.

As she complied, she reached up as if to remove her eye mask. He stopped her - sliding the mask back down to keep her blindfolded.

"But I want to see you." She protested.

"Shhh. It's better this way, you will enjoy it so much more if you keep this on, I promise." Just then, he leaned forward and covered her lips with his own.

She returned his kiss with a yielding sexuality, allowing him to force her mouth open with his, receiving his tongue in her mouth greedily. He paused for a moment to apply more oil to his hands, and then moved them across her breasts, teasing both nipples with first his fingers, and then his mouth. She pulled his head down against her breasts, thrilling as his right hand moved down her body to again find her aching pussy. He was no longer interested in teasing her, however, as he plunged first one, then two long fingers deep inside her.

She had to stop herself from crying out from the sensation. He began to fuck her with his fingers, positioning his thumb over her clitoris so he could stimulate that as he moved his hand in and out of her.

"Kiss me." She pleaded, and he immediately left her breasts to take her mouth roughly with his. She was writhing against his hand and knew that it would not be long before she climaxed. Just then, he pulled his hand out of her and slid his wet fingers into first his own mouth, and then hers. She tasted her own sweet and salty juices on his long fingers, murmuring her agreement when he asked her if, like him, she thought she tasted good. 

Saying he needed more, he moved down to the foot of the table and climbed on top, between her legs. He pressed his lips against her clitoris before sliding his tongue back and forth along her slit - finally gratifying her by plunging it inside her. He lifted her thighs, putting them over his shoulders as he began to eat her in earnest. He reinserted his fingers and lapped at her clit, he was groaning softly in a way that caused a vibration against her swollen labia. Charlotte had to put her fist against her mouth to keep from screaming from the pleasure he was giving her.

She whispered feverishly that she was coming just as the rush of her orgasm hit like a tidal wave. She rocked against him as the incredible sensations took her over. She could see colored lights behind her eye lids under the mask, and she felt liquid heat coursing through her veins as the electrical charges going off in her vagina made her feel like she was exploding.

Shaking, she wrapped her arms around him as he slid further up the table to kiss her again. Her hair had shaken loose from the confines of the rubber band, so he gently removed the stray, damp tendrils from her face.

As they kissed, she felt his erection, still painfully contained by his pants. She reached down and unfastened his belt and unzipped his trousers, sliding her hands inside. He wore no underwear beneath the pants. His penis was nearly fully erect and quite large - just as she'd dreamed.

"Take these off" she said impatiently, "I want you inside me."

He groaned with excited anticipation as he slid off the table for a moment so he could remove his pants. Charlotte heard a sound that must have been him removing his shoes. Then quite suddenly, he was back on the table - his lean body poised over hers as he pulled her right knee up, wrapping it around his waist. 

He positioned his stiff member at her still throbbing opening, and pushed it into her in one swift motion. She was so wet that, though he was rather large, there was little resistance. She felt him fill her up and gasped into his ear. His mouth crushed hers with a deeply passionate kiss as he slammed himself into her.

"Oh Charlotte, my beautiful, beautiful girl." He murmured. "Is this too rough, am I hurting you?" He asked urgently, worried that he may lose control.

"I like it - please - take me as roughly as you want to." He kissed her neck with suppressed violence, sinking his teeth into her supple flesh. He did not break the skin, but his teeth seemed to hold her in place as he aggressively fucked her. Charlotte thought she might die from this intense pleasure.

It seemed to her to go on for a heavenly age. He repeatedly pulled himself nearly all the way out, and then rammed his cock back into her. This friction, combined with his sheer length and girth, meant that Charlotte was on the verge of yet another orgasm. She thought briefly that this was every bit as exciting as her dream lover from last night. 

She whispered that she was ready to come again, and he moaned into her mouth as he kissed her. His right hand pulled her left leg up around his waist, and she hooked both legs together. He commanded that she tell him when she was coming, because he wanted to come with her. Within moments, she declared that she was climaxing and he crushed her mouth with his as he ground himself into her. She could feel him shooting into her body again and again. It seemed like an almost impossible amount of ejaculate = she felt as if she was being filled. This served to only make her orgasm more acute. Her body continued to quiver with the aftershocks for many minutes after the primary storm had subsided. 

They lay together, with him still inside her, for many minutes. They continued to kiss as their heartbeats slowed back down to normal rhythm. 

Finally, lifting his head, he asked: "How do you feel, Charlotte?"

"I feel like a new woman. But I have one question..." 

"What is it?" He asked gently, running a finger across her cheek.

"What is your name?" 

He laughed gently in response. With seeming reluctance, he slipped out of her and got off the table.

She heard him moving about the room, the zipper of his trousers was closed, and then she felt the sheet and blanket being draped across her naked body once again.

"You're not going to answer me?" she asked.

"I think you already know my name." He answered softly, his lips next to her ear.

"Lucas?" She whispered.

She heard him laugh softly, as his lips pressed to her forehead. The next sound she heard was the quiet click of the door being shut.

Yanking off the mask, Charlotte sat up on the massage bed, and found herself alone in the tiny room. She jumped nervously when the tiny clock on the counter chimed. Her 90 minutes were up.

She could not let him get away - she needed to see him. Flinging back the sheets, she struggled back into her clothes, barely looking in the mirror over the sink to make sure she did not look a fright. She rushed out of the room and searching the dim corridor, saw no sign of him. Going to the reception desk, she was greeted by the professional smile of the hostess, who asked Charlotte if she enjoyed her treatment.

"Yes, very much - but where is my masseur?" Realizing this may sound strange, she quickly recovered. "I forgot to give him his tip."

"Not to worry, you can leave something for him in one of these little envelopes. I'll make sure that Jeffrey gets it." She answered calmly.

"Jeffrey?"

"Yes, Jeffrey with a 'J'". 

Charlotte had little choice but to pay for her session and leave a tip for Jeffrey, whoever he was. She began to wonder if she was crazy, or if she had just engaged in some kind of sex crime. She now just wanted to get out of there and get herself home as quickly as possible. The scent of the aromatic oil on her skin was going to her head and making her feel almost drunk.

Still, she thought as she walked the few blocks home, she'd never felt better in her life. As she turned up Sixth Avenue, she saw something that made her stop in her tracks... up ahead about a block and a half way on the west side of the street, was a tall, dark-haired man wearing a faded gray tee shirt and faded jeans. It was unmistakably her Lucas - here in the flesh in the middle of the day. She was not crazy - or at least - not as crazy as she thought. He was moving very fast, and she realized that if she didn't start running, she'd lose him.

"Lucas!" She called out, as she began to run after him.

He didn't seem to hear her. Just then, he turned left at the corner of 20th Street, heading west. Charlotte had to wait for the traffic light to change before running across Sixth Avenue, then she sprinted as fast as her sandals would allow up to the turn at West 20th Street. There was no Lucas in sight. She scanned the sidewalks - but all she saw was a small group of Japanese girls on a shopping spree, and a couple walking a baby stroller on the far side of the street. Her mystery man was nowhere in sight.

Frustrated and confused, she scanned a few of the storefronts on West 20th as she made her way home. Who needed a drink? She thought to herself.

As she entered her apartment, still very lost in her thoughts, Charlotte was surprised that her new cat was not in the foyer to meet her, as he usually was. "Hey Baby!" she called out - "Where's my boy?"

The feline Lucas walked out of the bedroom, leaping lightly up onto the arm of the sofa as Charlotte approached. He was purring softly as she rubbed his head and ears, and kissed the top of his head.

"Hi handsome..." She looked into his intelligent gray eyes. "Boy, do I have a story for you. But first, I need to wash this oil off my skin."

Kicking off her sandals, Charlotte walked over to the linen closet to get another fresh towel. She stared at the shelf in front of her, her brain wheeling. There, folded neatly on top of the stack of bath sheets was the embroidered hand towel she'd dropped earlier that day. She looked down at the box of clothes on the floor, and a memory of Lucas wearing a gray tee and jeans flashed in her head. She tremulously lifted the lid, and saw the Fender tee shirt and jeans neatly folded on top of the motorcycle boots. 




Shift In The Right Direction Ch. 02



Charlotte was afraid to do it, but forced herself to pick up the tee shirt. It felt warm. She brought the garment to her nose and inhaled: Grapefruit, Bergamot and Cedar.

"Oh my god..." She whispered.

---To be continued.



Shift In The Right Direction Ch. 03



"Oh my god oh my god oh my god... What the...?!" Charlotte dropped the tee shirt and backed into the wall behind her. She wrapped her arms protectively around her body to cover her nakedness. He must still be in the house! She kept shaking her head as if to deny the thoughts that were forming there. What the hell is going on?! How did he get in here? How could this be real?

Suddenly, she thought she saw movement in her left peripheral vision, just on the other side of the open door of the linen closet. Too frightened to look, but unable to stop herself, Charlotte inched to her right and reached out a tremulous hand to slam the closet door closed and reveal what was lurking behind it.

Nothing.

Her heart was still pounding violently in her chest. She looked further toward the living room. Her eyes wide, stomach muscles tensed, she tiptoed past the bathroom toward the archway so she could see into the part of the living room that was out of view. An old floorboard creaked under foot; she paused, holding her breath. No sound but that of her own thunderous heartbeat.

She forced herself to continue. As she neared the opening, she took a deep breath and held it. Charlotte eased forward and peered around into the living room. 

HE WAS THERE, NAKED, SITTING ON THE SOFA AND STARING STRAIGHT AT HER!

She screamed so loudly that she didn't hear what he was trying to say. He had one hand raised up, palm out, in her direction. "Lucas" began to rise from the sofa. Charlotte sprang into action and ran back into the bedroom, slamming and locking the door.

"Get out of here! I mean it! I'm calling the police!" She yelled through the door, her ear pressed to the wood to see if he was following her. 

Nothing.

She whirled around realizing with frustration that she left her cell phone in her handbag, which was on the chair in the foyer. It had been years since she'd bothered with a landline. Charlotte snatched her robe off the back of a chair where she'd carelessly left it earlier, and shrugged into it, tying the belt tightly around her waist. She needed to think.

She slid nervous fingers through her hair and tried to focus. Email! She could get help by using her computer. She looked over at her desk, thinking about which of her friends she should email. 

Then, she heard the telltale floorboard creak. He must be standing on the other side of the bedroom door! 

Charlotte stepped quietly over to the door to brace against it with her body. She again pressed an ear to the raised wood panel, listening with all her might.

"Charlotte, please don't be frightened." He said softly. His voice was soft and soothing. Despite her terror, Charlotte felt herself responding to this velvety deep voice yet again.

"I am so sorry I scared you. This was very clumsy of me. You have to know that I would never, never hurt you. Please believe me."

Charlotte, the side of her face still pressed to the bedroom door, closed her eyes and swallowed to ease the dry tightness of her throat. Her heartbeat had begun to slow down, and her breathing, while still a bit ragged, was going back to normal.

"Will you open the door, my darling? Will you allow me to explain?"

"What do you want from me?" She asked, near to tears.

"Oh Charlotte... I don't want anything that you don't wish to give. Please, my beautiful girl; let me tell you everything."

She heard the linen closet door open, followed by the sound of fabric rustling. He was probably getting dressed again, she thought. Is that a good sign or a bad sign?... she wondered. 

Her fear subsiding, she began to get mad. Really mad.

"Hey, HOW did you get in my house? Were you ACTUALLY here last night? Did you DRUG me or something? WHY didn't I see you in the living room when I was there not ONE MINUTE before? And WHERE THE HELL IS MY CAT?!" At this last question, Charlotte rammed her fist against the door. 

She heard the soft sound of his laughter on the other side. This infuriated her. Not even thinking rationally, she grabbed the first thing she saw that approximated a blunt object - an umbrella. She unlocked the door and pulled it open.

"You're laughing at me now?!" She held the umbrella in two hands, like baseball bat, and was glaring at Lucas. He seemed even further amused by her fierce stance, but attempted to stop himself from laughing and irritating her even further. He backed away a few steps, his hands up in an "I come in peace" gesture.

In spite of her emotional state, Charlotte noted that he'd only put on the torn jeans, and hadn't even completed buttoning them. His torso was still bare and his taut abdominals rippled down, flanked on either side by the lines of his pelvic muscles, converging into the vee of his unfastened jeans, where a small patch of dark hair was just visible. 

What Charlotte couldn't yet see was that Lucas was already becoming aroused at the sight of her. Her red silk kimono did little to hide her athletic curves, and her auburn hair was a wild tangle about her pale skin - a flush of deep pink creating a contrast in her cheekbones and her lips. Her skin still glistened from the oil he'd recently massaged into her skin.

There was a moment of awkwardness as Charlotte's temper began to cool and they found themselves face-to-face, only semi-clothed. The memory of their incredibly hot massage session suddenly flashed through Charlotte's mind as she regarded his large but well-shaped, lean hands. What those hands had done to her body, how that hard chest felt under her hands while blindfolded, the way his narrow, muscular hips had thrust into her willing flesh with such deliberate passion - all of this was suddenly filling Charlotte's overwrought senses.

Her eyes locked with his, and her defensive stance faltered. She lowered her hands and allowed the umbrella to slide to the floor. His dark gray eyes seemed to consume her. She noticed that the room had become very hot and had started to spin, and there was a loud buzzing in her ears. Charlotte didn't even realize that this meant she was about to faint until her knees began to buckle. 

Lucas caught her up in his arms and gently deposited her on the bed. He disappeared for a moment, only to return with a cold cloth that he placed on her feverish forehead. 

She felt as if she was underwater - sounds were coming to her from a muffled distance, and she was floating slowly to the surface. As she began to feel more herself again, she looked earnestly up at Lucas, who was lying next to her on the mattress, holding the cool cloth against her temples.

"Can you sit up?" He asked gently. She nodded, and allowed him to help her sit up against the pillows he'd propped behind her. He refolded the wet towel and placed it under her hair on the back of neck. Charlotte closed her eyes and sighed at the sensation of the cool moist fabric and his strong hands.

When she reopened her eyes, he was watching her face with a sober, anxious crease in his handsome brow.

"Forgive me." He said solemnly.

"Tell me what you think I'm forgiving you for." She countered, her wits returning to her at last.

"For upsetting you this way, and for bursting into your life and making you afraid, when all I really wanted was to be near you."

"I don't know if I can forgive you, when I still don't understand what is happening here. Tell me I'm not insane and that this is not some sort of breakdown. Start at the beginning, please, and tell me what is going on. Who are you?"

"I have been called many names. Of them all, I prefer Lucas. And I especially like hearing you call me by that name." He flashed a smile at Charlotte that caused her already nervous stomach to flip over. She smiled very slightly, but nodded to encourage him to continue.

"I come from a long, ancient family line. But I have not been home in a very long time. I live like a gypsy, traveling the world, never living in one place for very long. Would you believe me, I wonder, if I told you how old I really am?"

"Try me." She said, half afraid to hear his answer.

"As a boy, I sat amid the philosophers of ancient Greece. Socrates was a friend of my father. I am the son of an aristocrat, and a great General in the Peloponnesian War. The name I bore then was also the name of my father, pronounced "La-kez" in Greek. This is why I prefer to be called Lucas."

"The Peloponnesian War, and Socrates. So... we're talking several centuries before Christ, right? Which makes you what - about 3000 years old? Give or take a few hundred years? You look pretty good." 

Charlotte's voice was laced with sarcasm. She was wondering when the punch line was coming. At least, she hoped a punch line was coming, otherwise she was lying next to a lunatic.

Lucas laughed almost indulgently, and tussled her curly hair.

"Do you want to hear my story, or not?" He asked patiently.

"Oh, I do - I definitely do. Please go on. This is fascinating." She was laughing too.

Lucas paused for a moment, a warm look crossed his handsome face, and he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. Charlotte hesitated for the briefest of moments before responding to his kiss at first timidly, and then with greater intensity. His hand was cradling her jaw, and Charlotte felt herself become wet, her body crying out for more even while her mind was still confused. This kiss touched her in an unusual way - setting off a strange sensation akin to being a little high. Charlotte felt herself relaxing, her mind opening up to the sound of his voice. 

He raised his head, smiling ruefully as he sat up and prepared to continue his tale.

"You are too distracting. Let me keep going before I lose all my concentration." She felt a vague disappointment, but as she looked into his large gray eyes, the feeling was replaced by a sharp desire to hear him talk about himself.

"My father was an amazing man; brave, yet visionary -- someone who strove for peace, despite being a successful military man. There were many at that time that would have eliminated his pacifistic leadership: people with vested interests - powerful people. One day, when I was in my twenties, some of these people abducted me. Though I had many brothers, I was my father's favorite. It was their intention to force him to bend to their wishes and break the treaties we'd forged with Sparta. I was beaten, blindfolded, and taken away by ship. They left me on an island with a small contingent of guards. I was wounded and starving, and surely would have died."

As Charlotte listened to the story, her skepticism began to wane. She became swept up in the sound of his voice, and leaned back, closing her eyes. She could see the story unfolding in her mind as if she'd witnessed every moment. She saw the young version of Lucas, dressed in a torn robe, lying on a bed of straw in a stone hut by the sea. His head was caked in dried blood, and his face was gaunt and pale. A bowl containing a few scraps of moldy bread lay uneaten on the floor, alongside an earthenware jug. As Lucas slept fitfully, she could hear a slight rattle in his breathing, as if he had fluid in his lungs. Her heart ached for this abused young man. Lucas's voice penetrated her consciousness, as he continued the story.

"Then she came." He said quietly.

Charlotte looked toward the high narrow windows of the young Lucas's prison, and saw a bright light raying downward. The flutter of wings caused a strange pattern on the wall opposite the window, and dust motes flew around the small, stifling room. A small owl appeared, perching on the window ledge. As the owl's head pivoted toward Lucas, Charlotte could have sworn that it paused for a moment and looked her straight in the eye. Then the bird's large round eyes settled on Lucas where he lay on the straw. The owl flew off the window ledge, and hovered in the air for a moment, wings flapping, and the swirling dust and flickering light temporarily blinded Charlotte. She closed her eyes, rubbing at them with her fists. When she'd reopened them, she regarded not an owl, but a tall, handsome woman dressed in gray robes. Her honey-colored hair was long and straight, and a garland of laurel leaves adorned the crown of her head. 

She stepped carefully over to where Lucas lay, and knelt down beside him. Taking the hem of her gown in her hand, she poured out water from the jug, and began to wipe away the blood. Lucas was roused by this, and looked up at her wonderingly. He was about to speak, but she stilled his lips with a finger.

"Hush, my boy." She said. Her voice was soothing and strangely resonant.

"They knew not whom they'd taken. This folly will not go unanswered. But it is time for you to know your true nature, and use the gifts that are your birthright." At this, she placed her palm across Lucas's forehead, and smiled gravely down on him. Charlotte felt she must be dreaming, because as she looked on, Lucas had been transformed into a gray hawk with a tuft of black feathers on his head. The hawk cried out, and tested his wings, spreading them out to his sides.

The gray lady then turned to look straight into Charlotte's eyes. 

"Do you know who I am?" She asked. Charlotte was startled, and looked behind her in the small hut to see whom the lady could be addressing.

"Yes, I'm speaking to you, my young one. Will you care for him?" Her resonant voice seemed to vibrate in Charlotte's bones.

She turned back to look at her. The lady had risen, and was holding the hawk aloft on her wrist, which was covered with a leather sleeve. Her garb had changed. She was no longer in gray robes, but instead was in battle garb: a knee length leather skirt and chest armor, a plumed helmet on her proud head. 

"You can see me? This is really happening? I don't understand - is this a dream?" Charlotte was stammering, unable to take it all in. The goddess tilted her head slightly, and pursed her lips before answering. 

"Surely, it's not the first time you've heard of a divine message that was delivered in a dream..."

"But...how can this be? I don't - I can't believe it." Charlotte was shaking her head with confusion. 

The goddess smiled, and let forth a throaty laugh. "Some things just are, whether you believe them or not." 

At this, she turned toward the wooden door, which opened as she approached. She walked out, still carrying the hawk. Charlotte followed, her head spinning with so many questions. The setting sun created a golden light across the sky, and glittered on the surface of the sea before them.

"Why me?" It was the only question her tangled thoughts could muster.

Athena looked back, regarding her thoughtfully. 

"He chose you." She said simply, shrugging her shoulders slightly. 

The hawk spread out his wings, eager to take flight. Athena smiled at him, whispering something very near his head, then extended her arm and let him fly free. He let out one long scream as he flew high, circled downward, and then swept just over the heads of the two women.

"Now change back." The goddess commanded. The hawk flew back down toward the earth, and as he came in for a landing, as his wings flapped to slow his approach, Charlotte watched his body transform again into his human self. The last things to change were his eyes, which for a moment retained their hawk's shape and color before returning to normal. He was no longer wearing any clothes. His head was healed, his body was no longer gaunt and thin - and he looked like the Lucas that Charlotte knew now.

He smiled at Charlotte, and walked toward her. As he reached her side, he looked toward the goddess, who had removed her helmet and was taking off the leather glove.

"Thank you, Grandmother." He said to her. Suddenly now his voice was also resonant, and echoed in Charlotte's bones.

"I am always here." She said in return, smiling benevolently upon him. "But it is time. We all must go." 

No sooner had she uttered those words, than did Charlotte realize she was back in the present, in her bed, and Lucas was gently stroking her check with his forefinger.

She opened her eyes and looked up at him, not trusting herself to speak yet.

Lucas leaned down and placed gentle kisses on her brow, her eyelids, her cheeks and finally her lips. She returned his kiss with the same tentative restraint. There was still too much to process.

"What just happened?" Charlotte suddenly felt very sleepy. She was dimly aware that this was some sort of defense mechanism; that her body needed to shut down for a while until she could make some sense of everything that had happened that day. 

"I think you need to sleep, my darling. There's time to answer all your questions later." He said softly, his lips in her hair.

"I need to sleep..." she replied in a drowsy voice. Her eyes were already closing.

"Do you want me to go?" He asked, his tone made it clear that he feared her answer.

"No - stay. Please." She replied - her arms winding around him as she sank down into oblivion. "Don't disappear on me..." she murmured as sleep finally overcame her frazzled brain.

"Never." He answered, tightening his arms around her.

A few hours later, Charlotte awoke. An orange glow streamed into her bedroom, which meant that it must be sunset. For a moment or two, she was disoriented. Then everything came rushing back to her. She sat up, alarmed, looking about her. Her lovely cat was perched near the foot of the bed, and was regarding her very intently. His tail flicked from side to side.

"Uh... okay. So am I just crazy? Or was that the most realistic dream I've ever had in my life?" She asked the feline Lucas. He rose elegantly and walked up the length of her body, purring gently as he rubbed his head against her cheek. She scratched behind his ear. He let out a soft mew, and then moved his sandy tongue along her jaw. He kept licking her, moving up to her ear. Charlotte closed her eyes, laughing at the tickling sensation, surprised at how strange this behavior was.

All at once, she realized that the sandiness was gone, and that she felt lips against her ear and the bed next to her was now heavy as if a body were next to her. She opened her eyes and looked up into the face of the human Lucas. Only his eyes were still feline. She gasped aloud and began to struggle away but he caught her up and held her still. His eyes morphed into their human shape and contours while she regarded him. 

Resisting the urge to scream, Charlotte, wide-eyed, stared up at him. She realized that her crazy dream had been no dream. She'd witnessed him turn into a hawk and change back again, and now a cat - her cat.

"Oh my god - What are you?" She was breathless with excitement and fear.

"Some cultures call us shape shifters. The Navajos call us skin walkers. We have many names."

"Are you human? Oh god, I can't believe I'm even asking this question... "

"I'm part human - mostly human, in fact. This ability is one of the few things I've inherited from my grandmother."

"Your grandmother the GODDESS, is that the one?? Do you know how insane this all is? I'm clearly having some kind of psychotic break..." Charlotte now struggled out of his arms and had slid over to the far side of the bed. She noted that he was naked again. She shut her eyes and turned away from the sight of him, lest she begin to melt to the physical attraction and lose her mind completely.

"Why can't you believe your own eyes? I showed you how I can shift, yet you still refuse to see. And why can you not believe your own heart? You claim to not believe me, and yet you are still drawn to me. You cannot deny that you and I are connected." He voice was calm and velvety, and was going straight to her head.

"I DON'T UNDERSTAND!" She exclaimed, tears coming to her eyes. "How am I supposed to accept this? It is just not possible! These are myths and stupid folk tales - they're not supposed to be real! I feel like I've gone crazy."




Shift In The Right Direction Ch. 03



"Do you like me better when I'm like this?" At that, he curled his body into the fetal position and right before her eyes, morphed into the cat. She watched, fascinated, as his body got smaller in size and grew white and gray fur, and his dark hair retracted back into his head as pointed ears began to protrude from his skull. His tail extended out from the base of his spine and began to twitch. When the transformation was complete - which only took a few seconds - he sat up and walked toward her side of the bed.

"STOP IT!" She yelled. The cat sat down obediently, raising one paw and licking it with his tongue.

"Change back! I want to talk to you!" She demanded, now standing up and putting her hands on her hips.

The cat dropped to his side, mewing, and rolled over and away from Charlotte. She watched his back lengthen and ripple, his legs thicken and grow, his fur retract into smooth tanned skin, as muscles became more defined. She saw the hair on his hair grow back to its shoulder length. Lucas was a man once again, and rolled on to his back, his hands rubbing his closed eyes. Charlotte stared at his beautiful, muscled body and her eyes lingered on his penis, which while currently flaccid was large nonetheless, resting in a patch of dark pubic hair. She felt herself grow moist, and was angry at her lack of sense. How can she be aroused by him - whatever he was - at a time like this?

His hands dropped back on the bed, his arms raised above his head. Lucas regarded her with a slight smile on his face. 

"What are you smiling at?!" She demanded.

"You asked me to change back. You believe now. Everything else is easy from here." He flashed his perfect, white teeth at her. Charlotte shook her head as if to shake away cobwebs. She was still angry, but she didn't know why. 

Lucas reached out a hand toward her and said, his voice like honey: "Please, come here and let's discuss this calmly, shall we?"

"Are you trying to patronize me?" She asked, but inside she knew her will was already crumbling.

"No. I'm trying to make love to you, actually. I've been needing to do that for hours, but you've been too upset before now." He grinned wickedly at her, and she noted that he was beginning to become aroused, as well.

"I'm still upset!" she protested, but it didn't even sound convincing to her own ears. He laughed aloud, and the sound seemed to vibrate in her vagina. She had to admit to herself that she wanted to touch him, and be touched by him. She needed to feel something real.

Lucas sat up and slid over to the side of the bed where she was standing. He sat on the edge, putting his feet on the floor. As he reached out for her, she didn't resist or pull away. She allowed him to pull her to him. He pressed his face into her stomach, winding his arms around her. The thin silk of her robe served as no barrier at all as he breathed into her flat, smooth belly. His hands roamed over her back and ass, and he groaned into her as she allowed her arms to wrap around his head and shoulders. He lifted his face to look up at her, his eyes dark with desire. He parted his legs and pulled her closer, so that she was standing between his muscular thighs. His hands slipped to the front and untied the sash of her robe, gently pushing the fabric aside. He caught one of her nipples in his mouth, grasping the other in his hand. Charlotte sighed, closing her eyes and dropping her head back as she reveled in the feeling of his mouth on her skin.

His other hand slipped inside the back of her robe and moved down over her firm ass. His fingers lightly played with her moist folds from behind. He released her breasts and as quickly as lightening he grabbed her upper arms, pivoting to throw her back almost roughly on the bed. He quickly covered her body with his own. The feeling of his skin and his lean, hard frame on hers caused Charlotte to let out a long "Ohhh" of pleasure.

Lucas caught her mouth in a deep, passionate kiss. Charlotte responded wildly, as if the dam of reserve that had kept her frightened and angry over the last several hours had finally broken. His legs pushed hers apart, and his arms crushed her into him. He began to move against her, his erection rubbing against her wet sex. She moaned into his mouth and he let out something akin to a growl.

As he trailed violent kisses down her throat, she cried out simply "Please!"

He raised his head, staring down into her eyes, so wide with desire.

"We are going to make love now - and it is just you and me. No dreams, no games, no blindfold. You know who and what I am, and this is real. I want you to say it - I want you to tell me what you want, Charlotte."

She didn't hesitate. "I want you, Lucas. Please make love to me."

He sighed, his head tilting back triumphantly. He held her face in both hands as his mouth came down on hers. She felt a flood of emotion, like centuries of longing, pouring forth in that kiss. She opened herself to him, begging him to take her. Begging for this fusion of bodies and souls.

Lucas rolled her slightly first to the left and then to the right in order to remove the robe, which though open was still covering her shoulders and arms. 

He pulled her knees up and wrapped her legs around his waist. Charlotte gripped him tightly with her thighs, hooking her ankles together for leverage. He slid his arms under hers and hoisted her up as he moved up onto his knees on the bed. She was seated on his lap, his erection poking around the exterior of her wet creases tantalizingly. He began to kiss her throat and move upward to the underside of her chin. Her breath came out in ragged pants, she was so excited. Lucas grabbed a fistful of her hair and tugged it backward to give him better access to her neck, his teeth and tongue pressing into her soft skin with every kiss. Charlotte threaded her fingers through his thick mane of hair, pressing him even harder against her tender flesh as if she wanted him to devour her completely.

She ground herself into his lower body. His hard penis was almost penetrating her. Finally unable to wait any longer, Charlotte reached around and beneath her to guide the head of him inside her. He stopped kissing her as she did this, staring into her eyes as she forced him inside her. He groaned as his penis moved inside her, thrusting slowly and deliberately until he was in all the way. Then he stopped moving.

"Do you bind yourself to me?" He asked, his voice was hoarse and seemed to come from all around her, almost as resonant as in her earlier vision. 

She paused for a moment as the implication of his question permeated her passion-riddle brain.

"Is that what you want?" she asked, breathlessly. 

"Yes. That is what I want. You have no idea how long I've waited..." She stopped his words with her lips, pouring all of her feelings into the kiss in an attempt to show him how she felt.

As she raised her head, Lucas kept his eyes on hers. 

"I bind myself to you - I swear it." Her voice was thick with emotion.

Lucas closed his eyes, and began to speak softly, reverently in his own language: "Epitrepste mou na moirazontai tin evlogia mou me to syntrofo mou."

Charlotte felt lightheaded at these words that she didn't understand. She felt like something broke inside her, releasing a tremendously warm light through her limbs. She felt almost like something divine was happening.

"What does that mean?" She asked, brushing his long hair away from his face.

"It means I share whatever blessings I may have with you, my love. Everything I have is now yours." He tenderly kissed her at this, and a single tear trickled out of the corner of his eye.

Charlotte felt a rush of love and passion at his vulnerability. She moved on top of him, causing his erection to penetrate her even more deeply. This sparked an equally passionate reaction in Lucas. He slammed her back down onto the bed, and began to thrust wildly in and out of her. Charlotte began to moan along with him, moving under him, her hands pressing into his shoulders, back, and along his tightly muscled ass. 

His tongue plundered her willing mouth as his body slammed repeatedly into hers. Charlotte felt a tingling heat building inside her, and knew that she was going to come violently. She began to move with him, matching his body thrust for thrust, and she whispered in his ear that she was close to climax.

"Tell me when. Tell me when you are there, my love..." His voice was deep and his accent was very heavy.

Just as the waves were about to crest, Charlotte almost shouted excitedly that she was coming. Lucas lifted his head to watch her face as the ecstasy was etched across her lovely features. Within an instant he was joining her - shooting stream after stream into her, which served to heighten her orgasm.

When the storm was over, she made him stay where he was, still inside her, until their breathing began to return to normal and the sweat began to cool their overheated bodies. Finally, reluctantly, Lucas gently extricated himself and dropped down onto the bed beside her, tugging her sideways into his arms. 

Charlotte's head rested on his shoulder with a satiated sigh. They both spontaneously laughed a little at the intensity of their lovemaking. 

After a moment, Charlotte spoke.

"So..." she began. "Can you shift into anything?"

"Mmmm, yes. Pretty much." He tucked a stray lock of her hair behind one ear.

"Anything at all?" She asked again. Lucas's chest began to rise and fall under her cheek, and then she heard his deep laugh echoing around the room. She raised her head to look at him. He had a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

"What did you have in mind, naughty girl."

...To be continued.