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A Lifetime Romance Pt. 01

By: dtiverson



I thought I would drop a couple of chapters from my first book on this site. I write mostly erotic romance and this is the stuff that I enjoy reading myself. I hope you do too. If so I'll put up a couple more chapters. And as usual, thank you for reading me.

~

A Lifetime Romance: In the Beginning

Paul

I met Janey at Wharton. A friend set up a teaching gig for me and she was one of the students in the seminar. I could tell right away that she was a classic preppy princess, with all of the fashion sense and general entitlement of her class. But preppy princesses are not built like Janey. 

She was keeping her bounty hidden under a classic assortment of Lacoste and Karlie dresses, tartan wrap-around skirts and button down oxford shirts with prep monograms. Still, it was impossible to miss the curves underneath all of the rich-bitch regalia.  

I later learned that she had started serious dance training when she was five. And she pursued it for the next eighteen years with the single minded dedication that only Janey can muster. As a result she had the feline grace and perfect muscle structure of an Olympic gymnast. But gymnasts don't have Janey's remarkable boobs and hips. 

Appearance-wise, her family tree is English on both sides. But there were still a few pure Celt-Britannic hangovers on that island and Janey is from that stock. So her coloring is much more exotic than your average apple-cheeked Brit. She has huge expressive hazel eyes, very thick auburn hair, smooth dusky skin and the classic oval face, pointed chin and high cheekbones of the Celt. 

The rest of the English population is represented in her pert patrician nose, which is as narrow and straight as the guard on a Norman helmet. Her more earthy Saxon ancestors contributed the hour glass figure and the exceptionally broad shoulders. But perhaps her rarest quality, and this is just strictly Janey's, is her smoky contralto voice, which communicates infinite depths of intelligence and passion.

During the one-on-one tutorials I was a little ball of lust; as I listened to that seductive voice and watched her cross and uncross those amazingly muscled and shapely dancer's legs. And it was an absolutely terrifying experience to dispassionately discuss data analytics, while wondering what it would be like to shove her over my desk and pound that incredible jutting ass. So, to keep her at arm's length I treated her aloof and distant. 

Of course she read that behavior as "cold, arrogant, patronizing SOB." And as a result, she was a total "bitch" back to me. And our individual sessions could best be described as passive aggressive belligerence, with a side helping of irritation. Quite understandably, at the end of each session she couldn't get out of my office fast enough and I was more than happy to hold the door. 

Janey

"He's coming to OUR campus?" 

Martin, who is very dismissive about learning in general, said, "Yeah, so what?" When you are sitting on a multimillion dollar trust fund you can afford to be that kind of shallow. 

Without mincing words Martin is gorgeous. He is SO exceptionally good looking that I had decided quite a while back that he would father my children. But to tell the truth he was sort of limited. 

Since puberty I have had no difficulty attracting men. It's just that they are MEN. Don't get me wrong. I have a healthy interest in sex with men. But in general they are a boring species better left in their cage until you need one. 

Martin was like that. I had told him that I was inexperienced with sex and that so we needed to go slow in our physical relationship. That was mainly because I wanted to see how my feelings about him played out. 

And he believed that absurd lie, which is another one of the things I like about men. They ALL think that they are the one who is fated to introduce us to our first orgasm. Of course that makes them very easy to manipulate. 

I had given him the occasional hand job, but I wouldn't let him touch any of my hot buttons. I know what happens when one of those gets pushed. And I also knew that if he managed to actually push one of them he was going to get a totally different idea about just how "innocent" I was. So, I made sure he never got past first base. 

The thing that had started this non-discussion was the announcement that a person who in my humble opinion is one of the transformational figures in internet marketing was coming to Wharton to do a seminar. They were looking for students with a certain GPA. My name was at the top of the signup sheet. 

Since I couldn't get Martin to be serious I decided that I might as well seduce him. At least a little petting would ease my incipient horniness. We were fully clothed making out on my apartment's big "L" shaped leather couch. The lights were down and we were preparing for what passed for sex between us. I thought it might be amusing to give him the mistaken impression that our relationship was progressing. So I looked deeply into those lovely eyes and said breathlessly, "I want to go farther." 

I have seen a Jack Russell terrier look less eager. The fact that I saw the dog's intelligence in those eyes was upsetting, but I was very bored. Normally my breasts and nipples are one of my hottest buttons. I had decided beforehand that Martin was going to get to second base on the outside of my bra. Then, I shut things down, when I started to feel control slipping, with a phony frantic whisper of, "I can't take it anymore!" 

His self-satisfied smirk pretty much proved to me that men will believe anything. It also definitely guaranteed that it would be a long time before he made it to third base. 

However, that DID take the edge off well enough that I was sitting serenely in the seminar room the next day. I had read everything the guy had written and so I had a lot of preconceived notions about what he would be like. But I guess I had never thought about how old he was. 

Consequently, when a person who I assumed was one of my fellow students appeared in the doorway I said to him sarcastically, "he hasn't condescended to show up yet." 

The guy looked at me really amused and said, "Yes he has." 

Holy Shit!! It was the man, himself. I recognized him from the book covers. Instant humiliation set in. My only excuse was that his appearance in real life didn't come close to my image of him as an internet guru and big-time player in Silicon Valley. 

He was not the type of guy I would ever date. He was neither elegantly slim and patrician, nor preppy and athletic. Instead, he was very heavily muscled, with a huge thick neck and massive powerful arms. In fact he was built more like a construction worker, or somebody who had done hard physical labor all of his life. 

That persona was definitely NOT what I was expecting from a millionaire playboy, who had the tabloid reputation of being the most eligible bachelor on the East Coast. 

Even though he was built like he drove a bulldozer, or perhaps actually was one, he DID have a shock of thick blond hair that he was wearing in a preppy do. The preppy theme continued with, tortoise shell glasses, and an expensive looking open necked white shirt worn tails out over khakis. 

The contrast between his huge muscular, working man's build and the preppy outfit made him look like a truck driver posing as a college professor. 

There were eight of us. He shuffled a few papers and then by way of preliminary he turned to me, probably because he had already labeled me as the smart-ass in the room. 

The minute he fastened those fathomlessly deep azure eyes on me I knew that I was lost. Little things began to flutter in my lower stomach and I think I actually let out a small gasp. 

He, in turn, looked confused. Then he said, "Well let's get started with introductions. Tell me who you are and what you expect to get out of this seminar". 

After a moment of looking like the proverbial deer in the headlights I managed to mumble who I was and something about being interested in computers. 

The little voice in my head was upstairs throwing things around yelling, "What the fuck's the matter with you? Your undergraduate major WAS computer science; he's going to think you're a total moron!!" 

He smiled patronizingly and said with fake sincerity, "That's very interesting Miss Alden" and shifted his gaze to the person next to me, who was also a woman. I heard the same gasp and was delighted to hear her tell him something equally inane. He did the same condescending thing to her and moved on around the rest of the table. 

Needless to say I was a bundle of nerves when we had our first one-on-one tutorial. I arrived at his office fifteen minutes early carrying a printout of my notes and with my laptop, just in case. His door was open. I lurked in the hall waiting for him to finish with his prior appointment, who happened to be the woman who had been sitting next to me. 

She was doing everything but blow him to get him to pay attention to her in "that" way, while his voice droned on detached and professional. It must have been totally embarrassing for her. I was not going to be humiliated like that so my defenses were up and the guns loaded and pointing out when my turn came. 

He was all business, while I sat across from him with my inner voice whispering "Would you would be willing to fuck me right here, or do you want to go to your place?" He was very critical of my work. He told me that it was amateurish and that I would have to improve it. I had never had a man who wasn't my father talk to me in THAT tone of voice before, or at least not since I had grown tits. 

I began a slow boil. He pointed out the places where he thought I needed to do better and made several suggestions. I sat there looking at him like I sometimes do with my Puritan father. He said, "Are you going to take notes Miss Alden, or is your memory that good?" That promoted him to total asshole status. 

The first session was actually the best that I had with him. Things got a lot more hostile after that. I had to admit he was being fair, but he was pushing me way beyond my comfort zone and I didn't like it. And I really didn't like HIM. I will concede that his constant prodding produced the best work I had ever done and in many respects I learned more than I could have ever expected. But he did not treat me the way I wanted him to. 

I am used to being adored by men, not lectured like a boot camp recruit. Our three weeks together were especially hard for me to take, since I knew in my heart that I could never settle for Martin now. SHIT! SHIT! SHIT!!

~

Paul

My home isn't in Philly so I had taken a short-term lease on a townhouse in Fitler Square. The lease was about to expire and I was packing to leave for good. But I couldn't stop thinking about Janey. I kept telling myself that she was a stone bitch and I should move on. But I wasn't kidding myself. I knew that I would regret it for the rest of my life if I didn't at least TRY to generate some romantic interest from her. 

So after a few surreptitious inquiries I found out that she had a place above a bar just up the street from the Penn Campus and she was there most nights. I put on my best "older man hanging around a college bar without looking like a pervert" duds, white linen shirt, whip cord khaki pants and an old Harris Tweed sport coat, which has served as my version of a comfort blanket for as long as I can remember, and went down there to hunt her up.

And she wasn't there of course. 

I hesitated, trying to figure out where to sit. There is no comparable experience to standing around a neighborhood bar looking for somebody, while the locals check you out. Luckily several of the students from the seminar were at one of the tables and they begged me to come over. 

We sat around under the brick arches and killed several pitchers while we talked about international market positions for emerging security technologies and other fascinating topics. 

Nobody but a Wharton student could be that nerdy. 

It was getting late and Janey hadn't showed. I was about to drop four twenties on the table to cover the tab when she appeared in the doorway clinging to the hand of the Greek god Adonis himself. 

He was a gracefully tall, willowy and incredibly handsome aristocratic blue blood; none of which I am I might add. I don't know where she even found a guy like that. He was so perfect he didn't look real. Maybe she bought him directly off the cover of GQ? 

They made their way over to a private table in the corner. I sat back down and ordered another pitcher. 

I have always been a believer in the benefits of in-depth intelligence and this was a splendid opportunity to scope out the opponent. The table full of students made excellent cover. I was barely older than they were so I blended right in. 

Not that I needed cover since those two were SO into each other that there was nobody else in the room as far as they were concerned. Janey was doing the leaning in, deep attentive looks, overt sexual body language and all the other little tricks that women use when they are spinning their web. 

The guy was clearly hooked. He kept grabbing her hands across the table, gazing deeply into her eyes and at one point he actually gathered her two hands together and kissed them. I thought to myself "Shit! This is serious." 

They seemed to be having a very earnest conversation about art, or literature, or some such other philosophical bullshit that a guy uses to convince a girl of Janey's caliber that he is the kind of deep sensitive fellow that she ought to spend the night with.

He was most probably a student. He had on the full Ivy League regalia, topped off by topsiders and no socks for God's sake! 

She was dressed informally for a change, in skin tight jeans tucked into a pair of expensive calf high boots with spike heels. A simple red cashmere V-neck sweater showed off about a foot of cleavage. 

I sat there in the middle of all of the background noise from the students at my table doing a running damage assessment. The two of them talked as they sipped some kind of mixed drink. They consumed a couple of pitchers as the evening wore on and they seemed very much in love. 

She leaned across the table several times for a lingering, tongue swapping kiss and he was massaging her tightly encased upper thigh throughout the entire time. I was about at the end of my rope watching that show but to quote W. S. Gilbert, "faint heart never won fair lady". And I knew that a creature like Janey wasn't going to be an easy catch. 

After an excruciating period of time watching them neck, they got up and left with her clutching his arm possessively between her two magnificent breasts. Since her place was right upstairs I was pretty sure that they wouldn't be walking far. There were no lights on in her apartment as I made my way back to where the Bentley was parked. 

~

Martin got laid that night. He was delighted. I was so upset that I couldn't concentrate on the sex. And I was more relieved than dissatisfied when he fired it off inside me in about 30 seconds. The protestations of, "Never happened before" and "Must have been the alcohol" just sailed right past me. All I could think about was, "That total asshole is stalking me!" 

Oh! I had seen him there all-right; preening for his many admirers. And I was delighted to be able to walk out of there with Martin in tow. I hoped that he had heard all of my phony cries of lust afterward. But I was mainly hoping that he would come back again tomorrow. 

Because if he wanted to stalk me I had something that I REALLY wanted to show him. 

Martin is way too inhibited to put on the spectacle that I had in mind. But I knew the right man for the job. Too big and rough for regular consumption, but he is 260 pounds of enthusiastic muscle. And the only time we ever hooked up we actually put a hole in my apartment wall. I was sore down there for a week afterward. 

He would be my chosen instrument of torture for that asshole. 

Rocky was overjoyed to hear that I was interested in round two, as I expected him to be. And I promised that he wouldn't be disappointed. The show that I was going to put on for that arrogant son-of-a-bitch's benefit would be one that he would remember in his wildest dreams.

~

I was back at the same bar bright and early the next evening. Janey was there with a different guy. I saw a theme emerging. My guess was Penn football but he might have been a rugby player, big, athletic looking and incredibly handsome, with the three day stubble favored by all of the young studs. 

In some respects it was a relief, since at least it meant that last night's lover wasn't exclusive, but she obviously had her pick of the campus litter. 

She seemed to dress for whatever accessory she had on her arm. Tonight it was full-out sorority babe. She was in a very short hip hugging mini dress and a skin tight foot wide elastic strip that was designed to serve as both bra and the only thing covering her upper body. 

It nicely displayed her bare, well-muscled shoulders and a foot of tanned tummy, with the little piece of jewelry attached to her belly button. Needless to say, combined with her big tightly restrained tits, that particular ensemble was meant to suck the air out of the room. And if that was the case then mission accomplished!!

She flirted outrageously with the guy and several of his friends, she bought rounds, she moved from table to table laughing and kidding around. 

The sole exception to her circulating was my table, and the now much larger group of students that were sitting at it tonight. I thought that she was avoiding us because we were animatedly nailing down the implications of technology market development in third world countries. But I also got the distinct impression that it might be because I was sitting at THAT table. In fact, at one point I caught her looking at me and I could see irritation and even anger in her eyes.

Well - I thought - "if you can't be with the one you love - love the one you're with" and there was a little Jewish stunner sitting across from me who had been cutting me adoring glances since the minute I sat down. 

She was maybe five feet tall, had a bigger rack than Janey's and one of those super round zaftig bodies that are built for sex. I began to concentrate on her the way that you do when you are homing in on a particular target for the night. She was more than happy to oblige and as the evening got drunker we got much cozier. 

Meanwhile Janey was across the room making a very public display of seducing the football player. She was sitting on his lap swapping open mouthed kisses. I was sure that his hand would have been under her top if it wasn't so skintight. Instead it was massaging the flesh of her bare, flat stomach. 

Then, to my astonishment she made a distinct point of catching my eye. Nobody else noticed. That was because the entire room was watching her. 

With a theatrical gesture, she spun cat-like off his lap, took the dude's hand, looked seductively into his eyes and led him out the door by the front of his shirt; making it obvious that the ball was on the one yard line and he was about to score. The room erupted in cheers like Penn had just won the Ivy League Championship. 

I was flabbergasted. What the fuck was THAT!!

I had planned on bringing my little Jewish friend back to my place for the rest of the night. But suddenly my heart wasn't in it. Frankly the whole romantic pursuit of the fair maiden thing suddenly just seemed pointless and not a little bit stupid. Janey was clearly enjoying her life way too much to even consider a guy like me. 

So I dropped a wad of twenties into the pot and excused myself. As I walked out of the bar I heard a sexual shriek from upstairs and I knew that Janey, getting her brains fucked out by her brawny middle linebacker. 


A Lifetime Romance Pt. 01



I thought, "Screw it all!" I knew that I wasn't coming back to that place, ever! Her light was off as I made my way up the street to where I had left my GTC. It was a really nice warm fall evening and I dropped the top and took a leisurely drive back to my place. 

I looked up as I crossed the South Bridge and the harvest moon and the Getz wailing from the Bentley's superb sound system provided a perfect counterpoint to the blue mood I was in.

~

Janey

We hadn't cleared the door of my place when he ripped the elastic bandeau off over my head letting my tits lilt free. He was chewing licking and biting on my raging nipples as he walked me backward to the couch. 

As soon as my legs hit the front of the couch he grabbed me, flipped my hips around in mid-air like he was handling a basketball and plopped me down face first. My inner voice chuckled, "You didn't think this through very well did you?" 

I felt my panties slide down the outside of my thighs and he pinned my shoulders on the couch with one hand while he rubbed his very large cock around in my juices. Then without preamble he inserted that brutal instrument up to his balls into poor puss-puss. 

The effect was more painful than sexual and I shrieked. He immediately started thrusting so hard that he was hunching the couch forward every time he hit bottom. And the resulting thumping noises must have made the people downstairs think that the Lipizzaner Stallions were putting on a show up here. But it was also definitely getting my interest. 

I could hear a disembodied voice moaning and crying out, louder and louder. The voice sounded like me but I was actually some distance away hoping that that conceited motherfucker was getting an earful. 

My big friend had just about reached the end of his rope when I beat him to the finish line. 

He had filled me to the maximum and the tugging on my clit and the friction on my G spot was bringing on a contraction so big that it felt like it had originated in Canada. 

Then, as I was about to come he stuck a finger up my butthole. 

That normally grosses me out but the stimulation just perfectly fit the person and situation. That set me off like the proverbial skyrocket. 

When the spasms started I clamped down on him, pounding the cushions of the couch, screaming and bucking. 

He slammed it in one last time and held both of us in a rigid breeding posture roaring like a grizzly bear. I could feel his boiling hot sperm erupting into me each time he shot. It felt like a hot water balloon had exploded inside my pussy. 

I shrieked at each pulse and milked every last drop out of him. The spasms went on for what seemed like a century and then he fell backward out of me almost landing on my glass coffee table. I lay there in about six thousand pieces trying to get my breathing back to something resembling normal.

He wanted me to blow him as soon as we recovered. I told him that I had a headache. He didn't want to hear that. So he flipped me around to face him, with my pussy leaking on my expensive rug; shoved his admittedly huge cock into my face and said, "Blow me bitch". 

I got a firm two handed grip on the thing and said. "If you want to keep this, I suggest you get dressed and get out of here before I call 911 and report a date rape." I gave his cock a little tug to emphasize my point. 

He looked like he was going to hit me, when common sense kicked in and he jumped angrily to his feet, grabbed his boxers and tried to put them on while hopping around the room to keep his balance. I stifled a laugh. 

His dressing and pissed off exit took about five minutes, which was cutting it close. That was as long as I could hold it in before the wails and howls just welled up from the depths of my soul; helped along by the sheer emotion of the fucking I had just gotten. 

No more fooling myself, I loved the guy. In fact I loved him so much that I couldn't bear being without him. And I knew from that last look of pain and longing that he shot me from across the room, that he wanted me just as much as I wanted him. Unfortunately I had worked very hard to create the opposite impression. So I had to make it right. I picked up the phone and dialed the number that he had printed on his syllabus. 

~

Paul

The landline was ringing before I had turned on the light in the entrance hall. My personal admin calls me on that line, when he can't reach me on my cell. I remembered I had turned the cell off for the duration in the bar. 

He never calls me unless it's an emergency. So I scrambled into the kitchen without turning on the light and bashed my hip on the table. The stinger from that put the cherry on top of the whole ghastly evening. 

I grabbed the phone off the hook and barked "WHAT!" There was total silence on the other end. I said "HELLO??" a couple of times, still silence. So I hung up and started fishing around on the wall to find the light switch. 

The phone rang again. This time I picked it up and said with a frustration that had built up over the previous four hours, "You had better have a good reason for calling me at this hour Chuck!"

A female voice said, "This isn't Chuck." 

I knew I had heard the voice before but I couldn't place it. So I said as neutrally as possible, "Can I help you?" 

The voice said in her familiar smoky contralto tone, "Yes! You can stay out of the Tavern, permanently!!" 

EXCUSE ME? Then it struck me. It was JANEY. I said in my most tightly controlled voice, "I beg your pardon?" 

She said with rising anger in her voice, "the Tavern is my hang-out and you have no right to be in it." 

I said, still keeping my voice neutral, "And what is it about my presence there that upsets you?" I resisted the urge to add, "So much so that you have to fuck large segments of the male population of the University of Pennsylvania because I am there." 

She said, "Just BECAUSE it DOES and let's LEAVE IT AT THAT!" 

I was for certain sure NOT going to LEAVE IT AT THAT. I said, "What makes you think that you can dictate where I can and cannot go?" 

She hung up on me. I star 69'd her. She answered like she was crying, "Hello?" 

I started in on her. "It is obvious that you don't like me. I don't know what I did to deserve that, but I accept it. I am leaving town for good at the end of this week and YOU WILL NEVER SEE ME AGAIN. So let me sign the articles of surrender right now and leave me alone!!" 

There was a long pause at the other end of the line and some sniffling. She said in a small voice, "Can we meet tomorrow?" 

My inner self did an extended end-zone boogey and spiked the ball. I said, "Of course we can. Where should I pick you up? Or would you rather meet me somewhere?" 

With a voice dripping with sarcasm she said, "You already know where my place is, so you can pick me up there at 10 AM?"

~

Janey

My soul was doing cartwheels around the room. I was going to see him again and we were going to talk. I was going to make it right. Sleep was the last thing I wanted but tomorrow morning was going to be the most important day of my life and I needed to be fresh. So I set the alarm for 7 AM and swallowed an Ambien. 

The sun was pouring in the big front windows as I drank my coffee and thought about what I was going to say. The fact was no matter how much longing I had seen in the look he gave me last night; in reality we hadn't progressed much further than an agreement to hate each other. 

And I was still not sure that he wouldn't behave like a total asshole if I just outright declared my love for him. So I decided that I would hold my cards as close as possible to my undeniably delectable chest and see what developed. 

I spent a half hour in the bath shaving everything that I could reach and putting lotion on the rest. I did my hair, which in my case amounts to drying it and brushing it for twenty seconds. I didn't want to overdo the makeup and perfume because that wasn't the impression I wanted to leave. This was important life-business, not a date. 

That was also the reason I selected one of my best business suits. Wherever he was taking me I wanted him to understand that I was a thoughtful person with serious issues to discuss. 

I was satisfied with the woman I saw in the mirror. She looked confident and well-put-together. That did a good job of disguising the quivering little woodland creature hiding underneath. 

Satisfied, I walked down to the curb to wait. It was 9:45 AM.

~

Paul

The question was what to do with her. She clearly wanted to do nothing more than talk. So, it would send the wrong message if I tried to take her back to my place. And I was pretty sure she wasn't going to invite me up to hers. 

But I also didn't want to conduct a discussion this potentially life-altering sitting around a Starbucks. An acquaintance of mine had loaned me a slip at the Philadelphia Marine Center. Since boating is one of my vices I had had my North American 40 brought down so I could do a little sailing on the Delaware. 

It has a beautiful and roomy little quarter deck that is extremely public. I hoped that would dispel any of her notions about my motives. It was also very pleasant in a good clean nautical sort of way. It was the best neutral ground I could think of and it was not far from her place.

She was standing outside when I rolled up in the Bentley. I thought, "Hmmm, Doesn't even want me to darken her doorstep." 

She was dressed for business not pleasure, literally. She was wearing one of those classic worsted grey pantsuits that all of the no-nonsense women in corporate America favor, except hers looked like it was a silk blend. It was topped off by an extremely expensive, pure-silk, white blouse with the big bow that substitutes for a tie with a woman. 

I read her message loud and clear. "I am a totally sexless creature, so no hanky-panky." But even dressed like she was running for office she couldn't disguise those hips and that perfect round ass and her panther-like grace as she climbed in. 

I had the top up on the Bentley because I wanted to make a statement myself, which was that I was not on a joy ride. Both of us were nervous so we limited the conversation during the short trip up the Schuylkill to talk about how school was going and general observations about the weather. 

She had not asked where we were going and she was surprised and looked more than a little irritated when I parked at the Dave and Busters that fronts the marina. She was definitely NOT a Dave and Busters kind of girl. 

I had packed a picnic of sorts in a little hand basket, just coffee and some scones with a container of clotted cream and the Dundee Orange marmalade I favor. I popped the trunk and took it out. 

She looked at me quizzically. We proceeded through the marina gate next to the building without talking and stepped onto the dock that fronts the slips. 

That was when she figured out where we were going. She said in a really angry tone of voice, "I'm not going out on a boat with YOU." 

I said, "I KNOW THAT. It was just that there was no way you would be willing to come up to my place and I hate coffee shops. So THIS seemed like the best trade-off." And with that I gestured to the quarterdeck of my boat. 

It was the first time in all of the time that I had known her that she actually looked delighted with me. We stepped down into the cockpit, which in an NA 40 is pretty roomy and I began laying out the cups and scones and pouring the coffee. 

She eyed my preparations with an amused look on her face; sitting with her legs tucked gracefully up under her on the starboard side navigator's bench. When I was done I hitched the taller helmsman's chair over to the table in front of her and said, "So what do you want to talk about?" 

She looked flustered then said with a nervous laugh, "What? No foreplay?" 

I told her that I was neither smart enough, nor sophisticated enough, to beat around the bush with a woman like her. So would she please tell me what the problem was, thinking to myself, "The ball's in your court now sweetie pie!"

She looked thoughtful, while my inner voice was musing, "She really has a beautiful, wide, sensual mouth." Then the words came tumbling out. 

She said that she had felt that there was something very special between us from the second that we had met. That's why she couldn't understand why I had been such a total asshole to her. "If you can please explain THAT to me, then we can just go our merry way." 

I knew exactly what she was talking about, in terms of the "special" part, but "ASSHOLE"? So I said rather heatedly, "I felt the same total connection, but I didn't understand why you thought I treated you badly. Explain THAT." 

She was really getting into it, angry now. She said, "You were cold and talked down to me every chance you had. I know I am not an international businessman but I am not STUPID and I will not be condescended to by the likes of you, no matter how smart and sophisticated you THINK you are." 

So there it was. My inner voice started raging at me, "I hope you're happy you fucking moron! You treated her like shit because you couldn't handle how you felt about her and now she thinks you are a total prick. CONGRATULATIONS!! WHAT ELSE DID YOU EXPECT?" 

Forget witty and urbane comebacks. I knew right then and there that I would never be able to live with myself unless I honestly and humbly told this brave little woman exactly how I REALLY felt about her. 

I said, "I have never come close to experiencing anything like the way I feel about you. And I have felt that way the instant I laid eyes on you. To me you are the epitome of everything I have ever wanted and desired in a woman. And if I was disrespectful to you, or was not as forthcoming as you wanted me to be it was simply because that attraction turns me into a shy little boy when I am near you. And that has been the way it has been since the second we met." 

She flopped back on the bench cushion like I had hit her.

I truly believe that the species would never have survived if it weren't for women. Men are just too simple minded. I was a full eight years older. I had been a spectacular success in business. And everything that needed to be said had now been said. Yet I was still sitting there, with my head hanging down passively, like I had just been called down to the principal's office. 

Fortunately Janey took the initiative, as she has done every other critical time in our life. She thought for a couple of seconds and then pushed decisively off the bench, walked around the table, took my head between her beautiful little hands and laid a hot open mouthed kiss on me that curled my toes and had steam coming out of the top of my head like a character in a cartoon. 

I stood up still kissing her and embraced that magnificent body, hanging on to her like she was the only thing keeping me from falling down a very deep and dark hole. 

People talk about skyrockets going off when you first kiss the person you are going to be with for the rest of your life. It didn't happen in my case. Instead it felt like all of the missing parts of me had suddenly and irrevocably clicked into place and I was whole for the first time ever. 

The sense of peace that engendered was beyond description. I pushed her back, looked at her lovely face and saw that she was crying and even shivering a bit. 

I had not planned any seductions for that morning and frankly I wasn't sure what to do next. The obvious step was the cabin with its double-wide bed. But although every fiber in my body was screaming to seal the deal, I didn't know how she would interpret that move. So I hesitated. 

She looked amused and said, "Does this place have a bed?" Aye, aye skipper! 

The NA 40 has hull mounted bunks for serious racers but I had converted mine so that there was a relatively large bed at the end of the galley up against the forward sail locker. We more-or-less fell through the cabin door, with me tugging her coat and big silk bow off as we stumbled along toward the bed. She was yanking at my belt. We both had dropped our shoes as we fell into the bed. 

I had unbuttoned most of the buttons of her silk blouse by that point. Her boobs in her fancy lace bra emerged. I gazed with wonderment at those phenomenal peaks; like the first white man who had ever seen the Himalayas, they were fucking awe inspiring! 

She shed her blouse and reached frantically behind her to unsnap her bra. I am glad she did that because there were at least two extra hooks. I wouldn't have even known where to start. 

What fell out were two of the most beautifully shaped breasts ever seen on a mortal woman; huge, firm and very high riding on her chest. The nipples were something special. Big and brown like the rubber nipples you buy for baby bottles except these were rock hard erect. 

I took the time to worship each breast individually, licking and nipping, which gave both of us the opportunity to clear the decks below. We were now completely naked and I was on one elbow next to her gawking at her utterly perfect body. 

Her wide hips screamed womanly with both hip bones and her mons jutting an amazing distance above the plane of her belly. Her legs were incredible, full and muscular and perfectly shaped with every muscle group clearly defined from her hips down to her feet. 

But it was the unsurpassed perfection of her face, now totally lost in her own desire that turned her exceptional beauty into something far beyond perfect. 

I moved between her legs which she gracefully raised off the bed to the classic fucking position. As I did so I could smell the fragrance coming off of her hair and the skin of her upper body. It was the golden smell of good health and unaffected beauty, almost tangy but with overtones of woods, fields and sun. It was erotic as hell; while her womanly scent would drive any man wild with lust. 

I hesitated because I wanted to savor the moment but Janey doesn't work that way. She reached between us and impatiently inserted me into her. 

People talk about a woman opening herself to a lover but until you have experienced what Janey did you will never understand what that means. Janey gave herself to me totally at that instant. 

She spread and raised her legs even wider and rotated her hips so that I was touching bottom deep inside her. At the same time she was kissing me with a fully open mouth that invited me inside the other end of her body. It was the most intimate thing I have ever experienced. 

Her pussy was the hottest and wettest I have ever fucked. It was pure silk, with little tweaks and flutters like distant lightening on a stifling summer evening in the Deep South. The heat was incredible, almost inhumanly hot. 

She gasped loudly as I slid into her and she began to move emitting little ahhhs with each stroke. Then she began to breathe very loudly and deeply leading up to regular moaning. 

Those moans and gasps continued for a short time and then she came. 

It was nothing spectacular, just a loud groan, a tightening of the grip of her thighs on my hips and the clenching of her internal muscles. In the meantime I had picked up the pace. When she stopped coming she went back to moaning loudly now; so that anybody walking past on the dock would have heard her. 

Her legs, which were at that moment spread eagled widely, began to move around restlessly in the air, as if she was winding up to another much bigger orgasm. I wasn't far behind myself and so I began to pound away accompanied by groaning, panting and loud moans. 

Then she began to yell, "Ahhhh yes, mmmm!! Fuck me baby!! I'm YOURS baby!! I'll ALWAYS be YOURS!!" Those words drove me over the edge and into a long sunny canyon. 

I came until my balls nearly fell off while the little voice inside me was doing a wild celebratory dance repeating, "She's mine she'll always be mine!" 




A Lifetime Romance Pt. 01



Meanwhile Janey was in the grip of some kind of nuclear orgasm. She was bucking all over the bed, shrieking, gasping and panting beneath me, while her pussy convulsed with spasms of ecstasy and she wildly clawed my back. Her contractions and rapturous shaking went on for several minutes. 

~

I came the second he entered me. I have never had that happen before in my extensive, sexual experience. The little part of me that was still rational whispered that it was the connection, not the lust. 

But frankly the reasons were secondary to the sense of completeness that I felt as he slid up into me, and the sense of loss that I felt as he withdrew. My pussy clamped on him and didn't want to let him go and then I came again, a little bit harder. 

Oddly, I could hear a woman moaning loudly in the background but all I could think about was how to get him further into me. I wanted him to be so totally a part of me, deep inside where I could hold him and love him, with every ounce of my soul. 

I felt conscious control slipping, my hips were bucking and spasming as if they belonged to somebody else and I could feel my huge butt muscles clenching and unclenching like a berserk machine. 

I was making so much noise telling him to fuck me that the little old lady in my head, who I have always suspected was my mother, tut-tutted about my forthcoming walk of shame in front of the whole marina. I didn't care. I was lost in feeling him move inside me and I wanted him to know that I was his forever. 

I wanted it to never stop. But stop it did and in an unquestionably remarkable fashion. I could feel a contraction coming from a galaxy long-ago and far-far-away. When it arrived I totally blew up, like the death-star. 

All rational thought ceased while my psyche processed the sheer, raw sensation. It was so profound that could feel the contradiction of teetering on the brink of unconsciousness, while throwing myself around underneath him at the same time. 

If the sensation of coming had lasted a few more seconds I would have actually passed out. But luckily things peaked just as I was slipping away and I was left doing the ardent deep breathing that I do after I have finished a particularly intensive physical dance routine. I knew that I was totally, completely and unequivocally HIS.

~

Both of us took our time coming back. Her legs were flat on the bed and I was on my elbows between them trying not to crush her. Her pillow tits were squashed between us and I had shrunk out of her. I rolled off and lay next to her listening to her breathe. 

I flipped suddenly over onto my side and said "you meant that right? You're mine, my woman?" She looked at me like she couldn't believe how stupid men could be and said, "No I say that to everybody I fuck." 

My heart sank. She laughed. "For such a smart guy you are incredibly dense when it comes to women." 

My heart did an elaborate, guitar smashing final riff, tore off its shirt and leapt joyously into the arms of the waiting crowd. We got cleaned up as best we could. All of our stuff was more-or-less trashed getting from the quarterdeck to the bed and so we tucked in things and made out way back to the car. 

I wanted to talk but I wanted to do it once we had put ourselves back together. So I dropped her at her place. We didn't say much in between.

~ 

The concept of floating on air when you are in love is such a sad cliché. But there is no other way to describe how I felt. That afternoon was joyous in many ways. But it was existential as well. I had found a soul mate. 

I know that is another hellish cliché but there is also no other way to describe it. I knew from this point forward that there was nobody I wanted to be with and nobody I wanted to talk to. I wanted to wake up next to him in the morning and go to sleep next to him at night. I wanted to share all of his happiness and sorrows. I wanted him to love me when he wanted me; and I wanted to be his wife. 

That presented a problem of course. Besides being devilishly good-looking I knew that he was a major player in the single scene and I can imagine he had a lot of older and more sophisticated women throwing themselves at him. 

And here I was a 23 year old girl who was so much over her head with a man like that that I shouldn't presume that he would even come back to my place tonight. It was devastating to think, "Was this afternoon all there would be?" 

I had to find out where I stood with him and I couldn't tolerate waiting. 

Even though I am not the son that my daddy really wanted I can "face things like a man." So I made a pact with myself that I was going to find out for certain whether we had a future together by the end of this night. 

I have had a lot of men in my past. And I know that when it comes to commitment it is a huge tactical error to be direct with them. But I loved him too much and I couldn't bear the pain of not knowing. 

So I decided it would be better to straightaway pick up the pieces than to torture myself waiting and hoping. 

~

I went around to my place to change into a shirt and tie. I was thinking maybe Fogo would be the right restaurant to sort this thing out. I drove up in the Bentley but this time I parked and rang the buzzer. A disembodied voice from the speaker said, "Come up the door's open." 

I walked up the mahogany steps which were surprisingly upscale and expensive for a student apartment, knocked on the only door up there opened it and went in. The apartment was a good 2,000 square feet of exposed brick, indoor landscaping and wall to ceiling windows. 

She was sitting there on a big leather couch in a short Peacock Alley robe looking elegant and self possessed, with her incredible dancer's legs folded neatly under her. "Nonplussed" doesn't describe the look on my face. 

She said, "Grab a drink and sit down. We need to talk." My heart sank. Shit! She had thought it over and come to her senses. 

Her apartment was not exactly what you would think of when you think of a 23 year old single college girl's place. 

It was all tasteful natural wood and glass and chrome décor; minimalist, with very expensive but comfortable furniture real art on the walls and Brubeck playing softly in the background from invisible speakers. The rug on the floor alone must have set her back ten or fifteen thousand and there were what appeared to be authentic Joan Miros hanging on the walls. 

Dreading the conversation to come I walked over to her built in bar thinking, "what kind of 23 year old girl builds a full bar into her apartment?" and poured myself a generous helping of Redbreast thinking, "What kind of 23 year old girl keeps vintage unblended Irish whiskey in her BAR?" 

I found a nice comfortable "sit up straight" chair, which was designed for people over the age of thirty. I balanced my drink on my knee and waited for the inevitable torpedo to hit me right, smack dab in my heart.

She started out with, "you can see that I don't need any man's money to support myself, right?" 

I looked around her place and nodded sadly. 

"And you have probably noticed over the past three days that I do not lack for male interest and attention." 

I did everything but dissolve into a pea-green puddle of jealousy right at her feet. 

"So we have to come to an understanding here and now." 

I sighed, HERE IT COMES!! 

"I have dated many men and fucked a few of them right here in this place." 

I thought, "Jesus Christ lady!! Would you stop rubbing it in and get on with it!!" 

She hesitated and looked at me with fiery intensity, like she was rolling the dice with EVERYTHING riding on that one throw. 

Then she almost whispered, "But I have never come close to feeling what I felt with you today. So if I MARRY you I want you to understand that I am committing myself to you totally and exclusively out of my own free will for the rest of my life. If you cannot make the same commitment I want you to walk out that door and never come back." 

PARDON ME? Did I hear her right? Did this magnificent creature just use the words "commitment" "marriage" and "me", in the same sentence!!??? My brain exploded! 

Here I was hoping that I might be allowed to woo her in some exclusive fashion, with the long-term prospect of her MAYBE finding me acceptable enough to consider POSSIBLY partnering with me at some indeterminate time in the future. 

And she was sitting there as regal as the Queen of England, proposing marriage right here and now - to ME! 

There has never been a time in my life that I have EVER believed in a higher power as much as I did at that second. 

Back on the boat, I had admitted to myself that she was the only person in the world for me, EVER! 

She must have come to the same conclusion, without me spending an infinite amount of time and money selling her on it. But no mortal female would have acted on that decision without a lot of beating around the bush and loads of games. 

Instead, this superb woman was just cutting directly to the chase for both of us. I thought to myself, "My God what strength, what a superb human being!!" 

She looked a little concerned, maybe because it was hard for me to hide the storm of emotion that was sweeping over me. 

I said as calmly as possible, "Make no mistake. I know that you are the only person in the world for me. I have probably known that from the second I laid eyes on you. As far as I'm concerned any time we waste before we formalize our commitment is lost time. The one thing I pledge to you is that you will never regret that you gave yourself to me." 

The look that spread across her face was relief tinged with sheer joy. Needless to say we didn't get to the restaurant that night. 

We were married before the end of that year. 

I would have eloped on the spot if that is what it took. But she is from important society folks and she had an entire entourage of relatives to satisfy. So we had to endure the gauntlet of well-wishers. 

My parents are both dead and I come from a small blue collar family anyhow. They would not have been comfortable in a place like this, even if they could afford to come. So I had nobody sitting on my side in the cavernous Cathedral of Saints Peter and Paul in Philly except a couple of my business associates and unbelievably most of the seminar students. 

She had parents, grandparents, uncles, aunts and half a battalion of campus friends including the Greek god Adonis himself. He looked sad. TOUGH!!



A Lifetime Romance Pt. 02



Another chapter from later on in the book. A little bit of humor and a lot more sex. Thank you for continuing to read me.

~

On the Road Again

Paul

Janey and I had been married for five blissful years. I was 36 years old and she was 28. We were living near Mystic in an old sea captain's house on a hill with an incredible view of the Atlantic. 

I had made all the money I would ever need back in the dot com days. And she was sitting on a huge trust. So we really didn't have anything that would take us away from each other. 

Most married couples would hate that much togetherness. But our relationship is what sociologists call "binary". We are so tightly bound to each other emotionally that we don't need, or want, other people's company. 

Because we are rich, we have the luxury of only doing the things that we want to do. And when we DO "work" it is always with each other. 

So, when I fly out to San Jose, Janey goes with me. While I consult, Janey pillages the stores like a latter day version of the sack of Rome. 

The merchants of that town like to see her visit thanks to the size of the trust that was built up by the rapacious business practices of her Puritan ancestors. 

She actually works more than I do. She has a summa cum laude MBA from Wharton so she handles our money. In fact, she was involved in the management of her personal trust when I first met her at 23. 

When we are down in New York, one of my favorite spectator sports is watching my gorgeous young wife whip a ravening pack of Wall Street bankers into shape, strictly through the force of her intelligence and unbreakable will. 

And speaking of spectator sports, neither of us are symphony/art museum types. But we DO attend Red Socks/Bruins/Celts/Pats games depending on the season. We also go to every Harvard football game. 

In the back of my mind I have always wondered whether Janey's abiding interest in Ivy League football wasn't something I should be jealous of given who she was with when I met her. 

One of the most endearing of all of Janey's many quirks is her behavior at sporting events. She is ten times more competitive than any guy I know. 

So she gets rowdier than a drunken factory worker at every game she attends, yelling insults at the referees/umpires and the other team. 

~

Janey

I know that all of my former girlfriends think that my life with Paul is strange. But the unfortunate reality is that, no matter how outgoing I might have been around them, nobody I ever met before Paul even came close to interesting me. 

I have never been very girly. I was much more interested in the things that the boys did from mechanics to rolling in the dirt. 

While other little girls would be having tea parties I would be taking my toys apart to see how they worked. 

Maybe that is due to the fact that I am the only child of a father who actually volunteered for two tours as a ground attack fighter pilot in Vietnam, even though he had the bluest of blood and could have easily avoided the draft. 

He wanted a boy in the worst sort of way but he got me instead.

I tried to make it up to him by being the best little companion a daddy could ever have. And in return he taught me to fix anything. He taught me how to swim and sail. He taught me to camp and fight for myself. 

He taught me what it meant to be a woman in a man's world. 

I loved him absolutely for that. In fact maybe I learned to love Paul so unconditionally, by loving him first. 

When she was younger my mother was easily as beautiful me. And she is still a beautiful woman now. But she is a true aristocrat, meaning she lacks any form of ambition, or any of my father's down to earth qualities. And those two very quickly drifted apart as a couple. 

Her main contribution to my life actually occurred because she didn't like her child care duties. So she put me in dance at age five. I found my abiding passion there. 

I was, and probably still am, a complete tomboy and the competitive fires inside me burn exceedingly hot. So there were probably no other socially acceptable outlets for a girl like me, except dance. I loved the beauty of the expression. I loved the extreme physical demands. But most of all I loved the perfection. 

One of my male ballet partners was also the catcher on his high school baseball team. And. I can assure you from deep personal experience that he wasn't gay. 

He told me that the difference between baseball and dance was that all he had to do was catch a pop foul in baseball. Whereas in order to do that properly in dance his feet would have to be perfectly placed, his body flawlessly oriented and his arms extended just so. 

Dance was admittedly an obsession. I would work out at the studio for hours and then come home to work some more. I was always the star of any recital and when I was ten years old the people in New York were seriously talking about me like I would be the next Margot Fonteyn. 

Then my period started and my breasts began to grow. Womanhood would probably be good news for most pre-teen girls, but for me it was devastating. 

For a year or so those things didn't get in my way much. But by the time I was fourteen I looked like I was twenty five and by the time I started high school they were HUGE and they prevented me from moving the way I had to if I was going to be great. 

That set off a long phase of crying and thoughts of self-mutilation. What brought me around was the fact that I started viewing boys less as playmates and more as people who could give me what I wanted, which was sex. And my new-found breasts were exceptional assets there. 

The early years were extremely confusing for me since I had no idea what I was feeling. But by the time I was in Junior High school I started making "friends", so to speak, with much older boys. They very quickly helped me sort out and channel those feelings. 

It was never a teenaged crush that was driving my sexuality. I absolutely LOVED sex. That was the situation even before I got around to actually having it. In fact I might have been one of the ten horniest girls on the planet. 

If I had not had such a robust sense of myself, which I got thanks to my dad, I would have probably been a hopeless slut by the time I was sixteen. 

But because I am strong minded and basically a moral person nothing happened until I arrived at Boarding School in Switzerland, three weeks after my eighteenth birthday.

The man was my tutor. He was 53 and French and in the year that I was in school he taught me everything about the act of sex that a woman possibly needed to know.

As both my breasts and my sexual experience continued to grow I discovered that the contrast between my rock hard dancer's body and those huge soft things gave me immense power over half of the world's population. 

Nonetheless, I have always defined myself as much more than a pair of tits. So I poured the passion that I once had for dance into excelling in school. I was the valedictorian of my high school class. I read voraciously and I studied every aspect of living life properly. 

As a result of my test scores and academic performance Penn recruited me like Notre Dame would recruit a football player.

But I felt myself drifting at Penn and the word ennui doesn't began to describe how I felt before I met Paul. 

Meeting him changed my life totally. Suddenly I had the purpose of our mutual existence. He kept me constantly stimulated with his powerful mind and his explorer's mentality and totally satisfied sexually. And thank God he got the same things from me. 

People overuse the term "bonded" but that is what we are and that bond is the driving force for everything else that I do in life. So to get back to my initial point, we are extraordinarily close and if that closeness makes us odd then so be it. 

~

Paul

Day to day we did the same things that all married couples do. She read and I played on the internet, we went to parties at the various clubs, we played tennis, golfed and sailed almost daily, we spent winters in the Caribbean and we did all the night life, sports and culture in Boston. In short, our life was excruciatingly boring. 

So, we talked it over and decided to travel. Specifically we decided to bum around Europe at our leisure, seeing everything that needed to be seen. 

In the past, I had been in and out of most of the better known cities on business. But I had never done the tourist thing. 

Janey had actually spent her entire senior year over there in a private boarding school; smoking weed and fucking the staff. Ironically, because of those "extracurricular" activities she never actually got off the Alp she was sitting on. 

Both of us have an intense interest in history and the idea of poking around Western Europe for as long as we wished was just exceptionally appealing, especially since Janey wants to start a family. 

So, I booked us out of JFK for Heathrow the very next week leaving the Mystic house in the hands of our caretakers. 

BA has pods in First Class that make it easier to sleep but you are gaining five hours. So you are jet-lagged when you arrive no matter how easy the trip. 

I had a car service waiting to drive us into the Baglioni, which I consider to be the best stay in London. But Janey, who is ever the anarchist, insisted that we take the Heathrow Express with the rest of our fellow travelers. 

I paid the guy for his trouble and we dragged our bags down to the train. Once we got there she did however stoop to allow me to use a taxi, instead of taking the Circle Line all the way from Paddington to Kensington High Street.

~

Janey

I thought he had lost his mind when he first proposed the idea. I was twenty eight years old and my biological clock was ticking like crazy. The last thing I wanted to do was end up like my parents. 

But the more I thought about it the more obvious a life plan it became. I wanted to be able to devote myself totally to my kids, just as I had devoted myself to Paul. So it just made sense to get the wanderlust out of the way and then settle down to bring up the next generation. 

Of course Paul is Paul. So rather than months of logistical planning I found myself outbound from JFK the minute I said yes.

I am not the sort of girl who needs to pack a lot of stuff when I start a trip. That is NOT because I pack light. It is because I live off the land when I am in Europe. In essence there is a lot of new couture to be purchased while I am over there. 

Thus I only had one roller bag. Paul, who is a closet hippie underneath that preppy exterior, was making due with a big backpack. The flight over was nowhere near as unpleasant as I remembered from my boarding school days. Of course they had upgraded first class a lot in the succeeding ten years. 

I love coming in to Heathrow. All of those neat British parcels of land below me, gleaming green in the sunshine and the noise and bustle of Terminal Five. 

Paul had a car waiting for us but I wanted to get the look and feel of the place so I told him we had to take the Heathrow Express. He looked at me like he thought I was nuts but if I was going to do Europe I was going to DO Europe. Not watch it glide past the windows of a Maybach. 

Paul had us booked into a hotel he likes across from Hyde Park. The concierge staff was falling all over itself to help him. That is because he is a well-known good tipper. I was in a hurry to get them out of the room because I wanted to take a nap. 

The concierge guys did the grand tour of the room in great loving detail and left considerably richer than when they arrived. I was literally unbuckling my bra as the door closed. 

The whiteness of the cool, clean percale sheets, and the comfort of the bed, was far too inviting. So I crawled under the duvet while Paul was fiddling with the alarm and went immediately off to sleep. 

~

Paul

The service at the Baglioni puts the five stars, in "five star". We settled in with the help of the concierge staff. As soon as their people had finished pointing things out and arranging our room we set the alarm for a two hour nap. 

The secret in getting over eastbound jet-lag is to sleep for a little while as soon as you get to your destination. Not too long, just enough to ensure that you will go to bed at a decent hour that night. 

It's a balancing act though, too much sleep and you find yourself staying up until 4 AM and too little sleep and the first day is miserable. If all goes well you will awaken the next morning on European time. 

Janey sleeps naked. She told me that she started doing that at Villars-sur-Ollon. Apparently she had a roommate who was as gorgeous as she was, but in a Teutonic kind of way. And the little Hun would occasionally commute over to Janey's bed in the middle of the night. 

Janey told me that being wakened up by somebody sucking on your clitty is extremely stimulating -in an experimental way- I just bet! But the inevitable physical manifestations of those visits kept wrecking her nightgowns. So she started sleeping without them. 

Of course that image left me with a few of my own sleepless nights; visualizing lithe naked eighteen year old bodies writhing in a sweaty heap of abandon. 

Once we started living together, I got used to how hot she was when she slept. You would have to get used to that if you wanted to spend each night in the same bed with her. Nevertheless having that small body with those wonderful tits pressed against you stark naked could melt the resolve of the Pope. 

As is my habit, I drifted off almost right away. Janey was sawing logs next to me. 

The fact that such a gorgeous creature snores and talks in her sleep is one of her special endearing qualities. 

And her talking can get very sexual at times. So far I have only heard my name mentioned. But I still keep an eye out in case I have to whip some other guy's ass. I don't intend to share her, even in her dreams. 

This was one of those times. I had been asleep for almost the requisite two hours when a softly muttered, "Mmmm, fuck me baby, fuck me please, please, please!" woke me up. 

My eyes shot open like a cartoon character and I rolled over in the bed and slowly slipped the duvet down our bodies just to see what was going on. 

What was revealed made me marvel. If you like your girls flat-chested and skinny, as some men do, Janey is definitely not your type. 

All of those years of dance had created an exquisitely muscled body. So when she walks she bounces on her feet, in a feline way. 

But although she carried as much muscle as she possibly could on her tiny frame and still maintain her perfect proportions, her smooth female skin was womanly in the extreme. 

Since she was lying on her back her gigantic boobs were pooled in a heap on top of her chest. The nipples on top of those wonders are dark, with big aureoles and when they are excited they stand out like distant brown watchtowers, which was the case now. 

Her stomach is flat but she has been very careful not to turn it into a six pack. Rippling stomach muscles on a woman gross her out. 

In her mind defined abs are a guy thing and she has told me if I wanted to fuck little boys I should find one. 

Her legs are optimally full, with the muscle groups, like her quads, distinctly defined. Because there is not an ounce of fat on her lower body, if she has her legs only slightly parted her inner thighs are completely visible all the way through to the back. 

And her mons juts out from the juncture of belly and thighs like a prominent hillock next to a canyon on the flat western prairie. 

She startled me by restlessly turning over on her side and facing away from me. That move displayed her real glory which is the complex of muscles around her ass. 

Due to dance, every part of her hip structure is round and perfect from the abductor muscles at the top, with their two deep little dimples to her huge glutes, which would look like you could set a champaign glass on them. 

Her spine extensors are overdeveloped which leaves a distinct ridge of muscle down the middle of her back. When she is lying on her stomach you can kiss down that deep valley all the way from her neck to the canyon-like passage between her butt cheeks. 

Needless to say, that when she sashays past, men are just as likely to stare at that perfect apple shaped ass and her swaying butt cheeks as her massive tits. 

It was time to get up and frankly Janey naked and talking about being fucked was getting way too hard to resist, particularly with the heavy breathing that she was doing now. So I reached over and started stroking her solid flank. 

Rather than waking her that activity just caused her to sigh, moan and push her butt back until old Lucifer was buried between those huge soft, but incongruously firm butt cheeks. 

The heat as my cock slowly disappeared between her legs was incredible. And the female scent that was beginning to emanate from that region was turning old Lucifer into a very young and frisky Lucifer. 

I could feel the slickness of her pussy and then she began very gentle movements; which instantly drove any ideas about pre-dinner walks in Hyde Park out of my head. Especially since she was now moaning in a regular tempo. 

Thoughts about doing her in a state of sleep are usually mitigated by the fact that she would kill me if she woke up while I was poking something into her; but for obvious reasons, that thought was receding very quickly to the back of my mind. 

She had worked herself to a point where her sexy back was arched and her incredibly hot and dripping wet pussy was a perfect target. So I metaphorically fixed bayonets and even muttered under my breath "Charge!!" 

I slipped between those lovely lips and into that familiar tight hole with surprisingly well lubricated ease. Janey burns at a different temperature than any mortal female. And so stoking her box is an otherworldly experience in wet and heated. 

Her response to my slipping into her was a SNORT, which I am pretty sure people wandering idly down a street way over in Cheswick would have heard. 

I pushed all the way in until I came up against her magnificent butt and was rewarded with a loud moan and then a groan of regret when I withdrew. At which point she came. 

That was an unwelcome surprise. It usually takes getting into my stroke for Janey to respond let alone come. It wasn't a big orgasm, just a groan, a solid flexing of those marvelous legs and a quick tightening and fluttering of her internal muscles, along with an extended sigh. 

Then she turned over onto her stomach, with her giant boobs tucked under her like a couple of throw pillows, and went back to snoring. 

I didn't know what she thought she was starting. But at that stage I wasn't about to countenance any sleeping on duty. So as far as I was concerned it was GAME ON. 

I spread her sleeping legs and got on my knees between them, while marveling at those two magnificent buns. I rubbed old Lucifer around in the pool of fluids that had formed at the juncture of her legs, and plunged back in. 

She lay for about a count of 10, about the time it took me to establish a good rhythm. Then she started to wake up. She sleepily muttered - a "what the fuck?" Then a louder "what are you doing to me??!" followed by an even louder "Get the fuck off me" and then a frantic "OhGod-OhGod-OhGod-OHHHHGOD!!" 

She was coming like I had never felt her come before. She grabbed two hands full of covers and started pulling on them shrieking. Her internal muscles had a vice grip on old Lucifer and they were milking him furiously. The heat of her pussy was indescribable. 

Then the pronounced, full-body shuddering began. That went on and on, while I never broke stride. As a result the moment she stopped quaking with ecstasy she came again. 




A Lifetime Romance Pt. 02



If her second orgasm was an enormous wave, the third was the tsunami that rocked her world. She bucked all over the bed, and started grunting from the depths of her soul. 

She was also frantically kicking like she was swimming the last lap of the 100 meters at the Olympics, while at the other end she was actually chewing on the pillow. I had heard about female ejaculation of course, but I had never actually experienced one; until now. 

That dragged me down a dark hole of coming which continued until I thought I was going to actually fire my balls up into her. 

I recovered very slowly still lying on her back then withdrew quickly because I didn't want to crush her, only to discover that she was face down, out cold. 

I could tell by the gasps that were emanating from her that she was still alive but she was dead to the world. I rolled her over and got a wash cloth from the bathroom and bathed her face. 

She came back to me over a couple of minutes, but slowly. Her eyes, which were open, came into focus. Then she smiled up at me with an impish grin and whispered, "I've been ravished." 

It was questionable who had ravished whom, but that was a matter for future debate. I was more concerned that she had actually passed out on me. She told me that she had come close to doing that during sex with me before. 

She said that sometimes the feeling just gets so intense that her brain has to trip the circuit breakers in order to protect her sanity. 

Then she suddenly burst into tears. That was a total surprise after the sex we had just had. And it might have worried me except I have had enough experience with her to know what caused THAT. And I knew what she needed me to say. 

So I held her tightly, until she stopped sniveling. Then I looked into those bottomless hazel eyes and told her in unmistakable terms that she was my life. And the fact that she is able to express her love at that level of intensity was one of those mysterious gifts that a man would never question. 

The look of acknowledgement and relief that came over her lovely face is something that I will treasure well into the old age that I plan to spend with her. 

~

Janey

I was having one of those non-specific dreams where somebody who I knew that I loved was gently fucking me. It might have been Paul it might have been Richard the Lionheart, or Henry the Eighth, hell! For all I knew, or cared it might have been Winston Churchill himself. It really didn't matter because, The sensations in my lower stomach were winding themselves up like a catapult about to fire and I knew in my sleep that I was going to come. 

Then the sensation became much more real. I felt something filling me up and then withdrawing slowly and it pushed me into the world's dreamiest orgasm. 

I then drifted back to nothingness until I felt it again. And this time it was a whole lot hotter than dreamy. I woke up to the sensation of being fucked and the heat that that was generating was making me immediately lose control. 

Normally I work my way up to whatever plateau I eventually arrive at when I climax. My consciousness was still getting on line but that didn't mean that my body hadn't been having the immense pleasure of a cock sliding in and out of it for some time. 

And during that time I wasn't exercising any regulation of my own arousal. So I was way, way beyond redemption before any control kicked in. 

Paul had been working on me for an indeterminate period of time. So rather than waking to find herself on a familiar plateau, the little lady in my head suddenly found herself suspended 500 feet ABOVE that plateau, and about to be dropped. She probably even got that Wile E. Coyote look on her face as she fell and went splat. 

Needless to say the coming was so spectacular that it was actually a little embarrassing. I don't usually lose total control over my body like that. And the little devil didn't break stride through all of my thrashing, screams, and shuddering. 

Consequently, as soon as things began to die down I was tossed into something that had all of the pent-up energy of the first orgasm behind it. Combined with the exponential new stimulation I had been getting since then. 

I have a momentary picture of a tidal wave of sensation coming at me, which I realized was far beyond anything my psyche could handle. Then the blackness came. 

I woke up a significant period of time later with Paul very worried, bathing my forehead. The little voice emerged from her bomb shelter and said, "He ought to be concerned. He almost killed you". 

Then the crying started. I had to let out all of that emotion. The orgasm had helped but there were still powerful forces lurking down there and they were telling me that I should not be so much under the spell of this man. 

Paul must have sensed that because he looked at me with those mesmerizing azure eyes and told me in no uncertain terms that any harm to one of us would be harm to the other. In essence we could trust each other absolutely. That was what I needed to hear. 

~

Paul

It was late afternoon which in London can only mean high tea, or drinks. Given all that had transpired, it was going to take Janey some time to put herself back together. 

And she made it abundantly clear that my presence was not welcome. Plus, we were going to need the cleaning staff to change the bed. 

So I threw a shirt and a sport coat on over a pair of khakis and made my way down to the Baglioni restaurant bar, where I ordered my traditional first pint. 

I drink beer in the UK because in my not-so-humble opinion the English make the best beer in the world. In fact I have never been sure whether I am drawn to that island for the culture, or just the beer. 

The second full pint was hitting bottom when Janey finally made her appearance. It is probably cliché to say that when she walks into a room every man stares. But the fact is that every heterosexual male notices her any time that she appears in a room. 

Being a man myself, I think that that is less due to her physical attributes, which are indeed awesome, than it is due to her poised, self-possessed bearing, which projects the total womanly conviction that she is the most beautiful girl in a twenty mile radius. 

And I have to add that over the five years I have known her she has never been proven wrong.

She has many endearing qualities but one of her most unique is the way she looks at me when she spots me in a crowd. 

The "look" is a combination of unspoken old comradeship and sexual need, like she hadn't been with me for a long time. 

Her sincere happiness at seeing me was particularly ironic in this case, since we had been fucking each other's brains out less than sixty minutes earlier. 

Even though she is 28 now, not 23, she can still navigate a bar stool like she did in her coed days, of course being pantherish graceful helps. 

She glided onto the stool next to me and merrily hugged my arm. Half the male population of the bar looked disappointed and the other half was probably flaming. 

She doesn't drink beer. In fact she doesn't drink much until sundown. So we moved over to the tables for the high tea, which I had promised her. I am not much for finger sandwiches and cucumbers so she had tea and I continued to pour pint after pint. 

It had grown dark while we were sitting there and frankly I was beginning to feel the effects of the beer. 

I have proven in the past that I can drink gallons of that wonderful substance with no ill effects. 

But I was operating on maybe four hours of sleep. And I still contend that I would have survived the night, but unfortunately Janey decided that she wanted to start drinking along with me. It must have been about 8:00 PM at that point. 

She ordered Cointreau and offered me a sip. 

That wonderful orange concoction, served in a Waterford crystal decanter, would have been hard for me to pass up, even if I were sober. So I poured one for myself. We had several more. 

She was looking more horny than drunk. I was totally shitfaced. 

I can count the times that I have been out of control intoxicated on the fingers of one hand. By my reckoning this time would be my pinky. 

The little captain in my head was maneuvering me to the elevators like a ship in a storm, while singing a rollicking, sea chantey. And like the ship that he was steering I was lurching from side to side and occasionally violently swerving. 

My faithful wife was walking five paces behind me acting like she didn't know me. I didn't blame her. 

We got into the elevator and I wrapped her in the sloppiest, most passionate kiss and eased us both on the car. There were two Pakistani men sharing it with us. They watched that display with undisguised lust. Janey was not amused.

~

Janey

When I came into the bar he was sitting on a stool looking like an international man of mystery. Even though I have been married to him for five years I get the exact same quiver in my belly that I got the first time I saw him. 

I jumped on the stool next to him, grabbed his arm between my tits, gave it a bid squeeze and said in my sexiest voice, "Want to buy a lady some tea sailor?" 

Paul says that he particularly loves the smokiness in my voice. To me, my voice is just my voice. But if it pleases him I am happy to do sultry. 

We had tea and then dinner. Paul didn't eat any of the goodies that came with the tea and he had a small slice of shepherd's pie for dinner. 

He DID have a couple of gallons of the sludge that passes for beer in this country. Instead of desert I ordered a decanter of Cointreau. It was more for the look and feel of the decanter itself than the liquor inside, which I also find tasty. 

I poured the Cointreau from the decanter into the Waterford cut crystal snifter and held it up to the light. I swirled the dark orange liquid around, marveling at all of the colors that were captured in the lead. Paul ordered one as well. He just drank his.

He doesn't get drunk very often. But when he does it is important to get him out of polite company as fast as possible. This was one of those times. 

So I suggested that we needed to go up to the room for a little exercise. That normally pries him away from whatever he is doing. This time he just looked at me blearily. 

So I signed the bill, grabbed him by the arm and steered him out of the bar. He proceeded across the lobby toward the elevators listing like the Titanic and like that doomed ship he also looked like he was about to sink. 

I was several steps behind trying to leave the impression that I wasn't with him. He ruined that impression as soon as we got to the elevator.

He grabbed me, lifted me off my feet and gave me a wide open mouthed, tongue swapping kiss as the doors were opening and then sort of slid us sideways into the car, with my feet kicking a foot off the ground. 

A couple of Asian sub-continent types were already in the elevator. They were watching us with a look in their eyes that made me think that they hoped to be next in line. I could see them clearly because my eyes were wide open and I was struggling to make Paul put me down. 

He dropped me as we reached our floor and lurched off up the hallway; headed he knew not where. I quickly followed, flustered and pulling my dress back into place. 

My last impression of the closing elevator door was a couple of swarthy faces looking at me with undisguised lust.

~ 

Paul

She DID help me to the door of the suite. Otherwise I would have probably spent the night sleeping in the stairwell at the end of the hall. 

We got into the room and her attitude changed. She must have been incredibly horny to let me continue the molestation that I had started in the elevator. 

She was eyeing me like a person witnessing a slow motion train wreck. I managed to get her naked, even though I was still fully dressed myself. 

I was, slouching drunkenly on the low bench that lives at the end of most hotel beds. She stood there, in very expensive thigh high nylons and five inch heels, totally unselfconsciously nude. 

She was looking amusedly at me like she couldn't decide whether to get out the fire hose, or just use the portable Co2 extinguisher. 

My eyes were at waist level of that wonderful womanly body, locked onto that deep fertile belly and that perfect pussy. I decided in my drunken and highly aroused state that it needed a severe tongue lashing. 

So without preamble I dove into her face first. She let out a shocked gasp that I am sure was audible throughout the entire hotel. 

As I started munching on her nether lips that gasp was followed by a similarly loud almost basso-profundo groan. Then she put her right hand firmly behind the back of my head and pulled.

I was chewing on her clit and licking her slit like a man who had crawled across the Sahara desert and somehow found the world's most fruitful oasis. 

I use the phrase "never experienced before" a lot when I am talking about sex with Janey. But the heat, wetness and hypnotic smell was absolutely beyond comprehension. 

She came in about 10 seconds, moaning loudly and grinding her hips on my face. I was still chewing like that proverbial starving dog with a bone. 

She shrieked and came again. Her legs gave out and she plopped down at my feet, feet flat on the floor, knees bent, legs spread widely and hips undulating.

~

Janey

Paul must have taken my offer of sex down in the restaurant very seriously because he started ripping, and I do mean ripping, my dress off as I was closing the door behind us. 

He pulled me across the room by the hips and more-or-less stumbled backward on the settee at the end of the bed, still holding onto me. 

For a man in his state he did a workmanlike job of getting me out of bra and panties from that position. 

I was probably looking at him like I didn't know what to do with him when he suddenly reached forward grabbed me by each of my buns and jerked me forward, towards him. 

I was working on keeping my balance when I felt incredible heat and friction on the one place that is absolutely guaranteed to ring every chime in my sweet puss-puss. 

To say that I loudly gasped and groaned at that contact would be a profound understatement. The contact alone started a contraction that I thought was going to blow my head off and I came hard. 

But he continued to chew and kiss away and the next one, which came maybe 30 seconds after the first removed all my control over my lower body. I dropped like a rock. All I could think about was having him in me. 

That wasn't a need it was an absolute necessity. I was a bitch in heat. I must have been going through all of the usual sexual gymnastics in front of him. I don't actually know. What I DO know was that he hadn't entered me even though I had reached new levels of begging. 

~

Paul

I don't do oral sex with Janey much. It is not that she and I don't like it. It is just that being eaten torques Janey up so fast that there isn't any significant time before she has to have me inside her. 

She is ALWAYS very insistent about where she wants me to put things and how quickly during our couplings. 

In this case she was lying there humping the air with a look of pleading on her face saying, "Umm! Ahhhh! Fuck me now! I have to have it NOW! Put it IN ME, I HAVE TO HAVE IT." 

I was more than happy to oblige. So I cleared the decks below for action and dropped to my knees between her legs, reached for old Lucifer and discovered that the poor old guy had passed away some time in the previous minutes. I mean I HAD NOTHING. 

That happens once in a while when I drink. But it had never happened before in a situation like this. 

Janey in the meantime was telling me in no uncertain terms what would happen to me if she didn't feel me inside her that very second. It was obvious that it would be extremely hazardous to my continuing existence to just shrug and say, "Oh well, nothing there, so let's just hit the hay." 

So as a stopgap measure I put two of my fingers together and jammed them into her and began to fuck her that way. 

She was still urging me to put it in. But at least she was starting to react. I added another finger to spread her out and began to work on her clit with my thumb. She let out a blood curdling groan, arched her back and began to frantically pump my hand.  

I had found that little rough area inside her pussy that marked her G-spot and I was working that with my index finger while moving in broad circles around her clit. 

My telling of this part of the story sounds matter of fact and rational, which is absolutely not what was happening. 

First of all I was drunk so my brain was making no permanent recording of events. Second of all, the fingering that I was doing was pure animal instinct. It was not something that I had thought through. 

Finally, it was clear that there were two people in the room who were totally out of control in a desperate; "must reach the final destination" kind of way. There was no thinking and the dance was definitely not choreographed.

Janey's pussy was crunching down on my fingers in rhythmic spasms and it was clear from the shrieks she was emitting that she was just about there. 

When she came she flopped around like a newly landed marlin, yelling "JEEESUS CHRIIIIIST!! OHHH!! MYYYY!! GOOOODDD!!" She might have invoked a few other deities but I was not listening. 

At that exact point in time my traitorous organ suddenly woke up, realized what was going on and proceeded to shoot about a gallon of cum on her chest, and belly. Then it immediately went back to sleep. She was a mess. 

That was the second to the last thought I had before the little man in my head decided that it was time to turn off the lights. 

My last perception as I toppled over onto the rug was of Janey frantically fingering herself to another climax. 

~

Janey

I had progressed past begging and I was lying flat on my back with my hips arched, my legs spread wide, my 5 inch heels flat on the floor and humping the air. 

At that point I was absolutely demanding that he put it in me, RIGHT NOW! Normally I wouldn't have to wait long. But in this case it seemed like it was taking him forever. 

He was kneeling between my raised thighs and seemed to be fumbling around when suddenly I felt his fingers, not his cock, slide into me. It was not satisfying the way I wanted it to be. But in the state I was in I was not going to quibble. 

He worked on me that way for a while and I was starting to get into it when I felt another finger, stretching me wide and his thumb on my clit. THAT was MUCH better. 

I was contracting on him and pumping my hips sufficiently to generate the proper friction, when a really big orgasm arrived. 

I must have missed it sneaking up on me because I was working so hard to make it happen. Since there was nobody on top of me it felt like I bucked all over the room. 

Then, just as the contractions were beginning to die down, I was hit by about six gallons of blistering sperm. It shot all over my chest, belly and pussy. The little lady in my head winked and said slyly, "Well, it looks like you got his interest after all." 

Paul lurched to his right and lay there draped over my widely spread leg like the proverbial sack of potatoes. The sheer naughtiness of the situation set me off again, and so I shoved him off my leg and worked Miss Puss-puss to another very satisfying orgasm.

When I opened my eyes I saw my hero lying curled up in a ball on the floor fully dressed in shirt tie and sport coat, and naked from the waist down. He was snoring like a diesel truck so I knew he was okay, just passed out from all of the booze. I was a total sticky mess. 

The long hot shower afterward took care of that. While I soaped myself I raised my left breast and played with the nipple setting off little quivers. I thought about all of the sex we had had that day and it almost got me going again. But it was getting late now and I had not had much actual sleep. 




A Lifetime Romance Pt. 02



So I dried myself off with one of the plush Turkish towels the Baglioni provides in lieu of the usual thin hotel fare. Then, I dried and brushed my hair and went out to see what to do about Paul.

I tried to wake him up. There was no luck. He is a lot bigger than I am and he seemed happy where he was so I shoved a pillow under his head and called the concierge for room service.

I estimated he would be out until at least 9 AM. I figured the room service waiter could help me resurrect him if he was still sleeping. 

In case I slept past nine I put on my reserve nightgown. I didn't want to open the door the way I normally sleep, meaning naked. I turned off the light and went off to dream-land.

~

Paul

I awoke curled up in a ball on the floor with the bright English sun shining through the windows. 

The Baglioni's windows are designed to catch as much light as possible. In my present state, the pain that was causing was somewhere off the end of the Richter scale. 

I was naked from the waist down but I was wearing a shirt, tie and coat and I smelled very strongly of "Janey". Puzzling? 

Because standing up was problematic I chose to crawl to the bathroom on my hands and knees. I then proceeded to "worship the porcelain idol" for 5 painful minutes. 

I hesitantly stood up, washed my mouth out and ran water in the sink. I splashed the devastated, bombed out village that had formerly been my face. 

I fumbled through my kit and found the Aleve bottle and washed four of them down with a glass of water. Brushed my teeth. Sat back on the toilet with my head in my hands and ran the tapes of last night's debacle. 

The last record I had was of dinner downstairs. That was definitely disturbing. I had no idea why I was sleeping on the floor with the heady smell of "girl" on my hand and my absence of pants was mystifying.

I finally stumbled back into the bedroom losing all of the rest of my clothing as I went. I peered at the bed where Janey was peacefully sleeping on her back looking like a small, and very sexy version of Snow White. She had a beautiful silk nightgown on, in keeping with that image. 

I thought to myself, "Whisky Tango Foxtrot? She never wears nightgowns?" She looked healthy, relaxed and peaceful. I must have looked like the last survivor of some particularly gruesome famine, or plague, or rain of frogs. 

If I didn't get coffee I was going to die. 

I stumbled to the dresser, selected some underwear. Then I stumbled to the closet, selected pants and a shirt. I successfully put on the shirt. But as I was pulling on the pants I fell face first into the closet. 

~

Janey

I was startled awake by loud thrashing and banging from the direction of the closet. I sat up quickly, and saw a body sticking out of the door of the thing frantically struggling to pull a pair of pants up its legs. I knew that Paul was awake. 

I composed myself on the pillow and waited for him to stop swearing and emerge. 

When he did he looked like a survivor of a really horrific disaster, maybe an Ebola outbreak. His beautiful blue eyes were more red than blue. His hair stuck out in all directions. 

His face was actually grey and he was moving like a person who thought his head would fall off if he tilted it the wrong way. 

All in all it was a VERY satisfying picture. 

He actually had the good grace to look shamefaced and said, "Was I appalling last night?" 

I said, "No dear." 

He said, "Did I embarrass myself?" 

I said, "No dear." 

He said, "What did you do while I was making a fool out of myself last night?" 

I said serenely, "Oh, I fucked the two Pakistani men we met on the elevator and then went right off to bed." 

He did a double take and groaned. I think he knew I was kidding. 

There was a knock on the door and I said, "Room service, I thought you might need some coffee when you woke up." 

He was looking at me like I was Mother Theresa

~

Paul

The swearing and thrashing around that ensued must have wakened Janey. She was sitting propped up on her pillows when I finally emerged from the closet floor. She looked serenely beautiful and highly amused. 

She said, "How you feeling big fella?" 

I did not mince words. I told her that she was a very cruel person to laugh at the mentally impaired. 

She said, "You were quite drunk last night." 

I belched. 

She said with laughter in that smoky voice, "You don't remember anything do you?" 

I told her smugly that I remembered dinner. 

She smirked. 

I told her that she would no longer have a husband if I didn't get coffee into my system in the next ten seconds. 

She looked at the bedside clock, which was just coming up on 9AM and said, "I took the liberty of ordering room service. That is why I am wearing my nightgown." There was a knock on the door. 

I don't believe it is possible to love her more than I already do. But there are occasionally times that love zooms into hyperspace. This was one of them. 

My guardian angel had ordered a full English breakfast for me and her usual croissant and fruit concoction. The smell of the coffee permeated the room. The little man in my head did a damage assessment and decided that I might live after all. 

We sat in the window and drank our coffee looking out over a sunny Hyde Park. I didn't ask her what had happened after the recording equipment blew up and she never volunteered. 

It was never clear to me why she was so nicely tucked in and I had spent the night on the floor. But I didn't need a PhD to figure out that some things are probably better left unexplained.



A Lifetime Romance Pt. 03



This is also from my first book (in the book it is the chapter just after the "Green Fairy" story which I placed elsewhere in the story list and just before the Italian adventures, which are also on the list but in another category). I particularly like writing erotic romance and I hope you enjoy reading it. Let me know what you think and thanks as usual - D.T.

~

Raising the Roofie

Tom

Caldetas d'Estrac is a sleepy little Catalonian town 30 minutes north of Barcelona. Janey and I were there to visit a certain place, which was the Hotel Colon. I had stayed there back in my Army days. 

My memories were of a dusty old place out of a Carlo Ponti movie, where I spent a two week leave drinking on the terrace with a bunch of even dustier Brits. Every one of them had done their army service at Gibraltar and just couldn't leave. I didn't blame them. If your main criterion is beautiful weather the Costa del Sol is the place to live 

In the almost 20 years since then, they have torn the old building down and built a new hotel. But the beach was as I remembered it and the sight of Janey in a modest; by her standards, bikini was worth the price of a few days in the sun.

The bikini hugged her perfect bottom and those dancer's legs were their usual spectacular selves. But the things that any male who wasn't totally flaming would notice in that getup, was her absolutely awe inspiring and mostly unrestrained breasts. 

She has very wide shoulders and a deep chest. But her tits are disproportionately even larger. Some people would be self-conscious with bouncers that big but they are still very firm and Janey has no problem corralling them with a scrap of cloth and letting them simply jut. 

Her boobs are set close together on her chest, which gives her impressive cleavage in any outfit. But they still end up partly in front of her upper arms. 

The nipples on each of those beauties push out like little fingers. So they would be impossible to disguise. And, since Janey kind of likes the attention when she is on the beach she encourages them to poke. 

Every male eye swiveled to watch her as she marched along in her Bendito Naval bikini, with her beautiful skin bronzed like a Greek goddess. 

We have had a special bond since we first pledged our love and frankly I have never questioned her loyalty. 

Skeptics would probably say "yeah right", given that physical package. But you would really have to understand who she is to understand why I implicitly trust her. 

She is a person of high intelligence with the level of judgment, maturity and personal integrity that you would expect in a totally well-rounded person. She is an incredibly sexual being but she has an innate sense of right and wrong and she is ruthlessly honest with herself. 

So I know that if she ever did choose to sell me out she wouldn't let herself off the hook with a "he'll never know." The point is that SHE would know and we have no secrets. She proved that to me several years ago in Bermuda. 

Of course you would have to be autistic if you didn't notice all of the male attention. 

The bikini was dark blue and her skin is golden brown. Lying on her back in a beach chair her boobs tend to slide off to each side covering part of her upper arm. That probably gets in her way when she is reading but it does wonders for the male population. 

There was a regular parade of local guys passing and re-passing her as she lay there soaking up the hot Mediterranean sun. She knew that they were checking her out, so of course she had to subtly re-arrange her position to make it MORE sexual. 

The move itself was neither slutty, nor even that suggestive. However, the amused glance that she shot me from behind her Bulgaris indicated that she was playing her favorite game, which is torturing the male half of the species. 

She has been a dancer her whole life and so she has no issues or inhibitions about displaying her body. She told me that it gives her great personal satisfaction to make guys gape at her knowing that her bounty is forever reserved for me and only me. 

But holy shit! That woman certainly knew how to make every male heart palpitate. And the erection she was giving me as I was lying there was getting embarrassing.

~

Janey

Paul had had it in his head that he wanted to stop at a place in Spain that he had visited while he was in the Army. It wasn't anywhere we would normally go but he said it had a nice beach and that was all it took to convince me. 

I love the sun. They say exposure to it causes premature aging but the feeling of it on my mostly naked skin makes me horny. 

Not that I need to be encouraged to have sex but somehow making love in the late afternoon with the remnants of the sun tan lotion and sweat still on our bodies has a very basic animal appeal to it. And I'll worry about the leathery skin in twenty years.

I chose the Bendito Naval because it has less of a tendency to disappear up my butt when I walk, even though it is really just two scraps of cloth sewn together front and back. 

Because my hips are so wide and my ass is so round almost anything I wear tends to ride up into places I would rather not show off. So, even though it costs a lot more the tailoring on the Bendito Naval suit ensures that things stay "presentable." 

There was a time in my life that I was very shy. I didn't want to be noticed by anybody, let alone be ogled by every man in sight. But that shyness evaporated like the morning dew when the hormones started bubbling at age twelve. 

In the subsequent five years the thought of male eyes checking out my nubile teen body made me go all warm and liquid inside. But the thing, or perhaps the proper term is "things", that separate me from the rest of the nubies were my breasts. 

They started growing when I was twelve and basically didn't stop until I was almost twenty. I hated them at first, since they got in the way during gymnastic competitions and they eventually killed my dream of being a professional dancer. 

On the other hand they had other advantages.

By the time I was sixteen, every one of my school friends wanted me to enter some kind of teen beauty competition. My father nearly had a coronary when he heard that and since my trust fund is important to me I sadly declined. 

But it didn't stop men from pestering me in droves throughout my teen years. And the sensation of causing some guy to come spectacularly in his pants just by letting him squeeze my bra and sweater gave me teenaged delusions of grandeur. 

I also finally accepted the reality that if there was a scale for horny women I was a one-percenter in more ways than my wealth. A lot of women hate sex. Most women tolerate it. Many women even like it. I am in a special category way ABOVE liking it. 

I love every aspect of sex, the physicality, and the sounds the sweat pooling in my belly button and even the smells. I have been that way since puberty. 

At first I didn't understand the feelings. Then I was terrified by them. I was brought up Catholic and I remember my teen years kneeling and praying for hours to be delivered from this terrible "curse". 

Then I experienced being fucked at my senior prom the day after my eighteenth birthday. The boy was nobody and it was a thirty second event, where we were lucky didn't knock me up. But I was transported to another plane of reality where my skin cleared up and all I could think about was doing it again. 

Although she hated the fact that her daughter was "sexual", my mother came through for me for the only time in her life. She got me the right counseling and she got me on Depo-Provera. 

Besides eliminating my periods that wonder drug also freed me from all of my irrational fears of sex. 

It is an understatement to say that I was a little out of control after that. But, I am a sensible girl and too "patrician" to just fuck anybody. So once I had learned the "ropes of fucking", so to speak, I settled down to my one true interest which was using sex to get what I wanted. 

Paul initially thought that our eight year age difference was the most I had ever experienced with a man. That record was actually my 53 year old French tutor who I fucked just three weeks after my eighteenth birthday. 

I thought he was "the one" and needless to say I did very well academically from that point on. 

He eventually filled me in on the fact that he had a wife, he was French after all. 

But that experience DID introduce me to the difference between fucking and love. And as a side result I also learned how easy it was to put any man, no matter what his age, under my spell. 

Until I met Paul I never had a concept of what it felt like, or even meant, to give yourself totally and exclusively to one man forever. 

Now, as far as I'm concerned our commitment to each other is a done-deal. But that DOESN'T mean that I still don't enjoy exercising my feminine powers whenever I get a chance to do it, within the bounds of my commitment to him of course. 

So, putting on a skimpy bathing suit and driving the locals wild is a pleasant diversion. Especially when the person who you have chosen to actually GIVE that body to is sitting three feet away from you in a beach chair. 

It's probably strictly a woman thing, but I wanted every man on that beach to envy my man. 

~

Paul

The guys who were sightseeing Janey were part of a group of locals who were all sitting in a pack up the beach. Finally, an older Spanish guy detached himself from that group and invited us to a party that night a little ways inland. 

Invitations from strangers are actually a common happening for us. We look like the kind of people you want to have decorating the place when you are trying to impress your friends. But I am almost a psychopath when it comes to socializing, particularly with strangers. 

Janey isn't much better. But she has that patrician breeding that prevents her from being rude. 

That is a talent I lack. So while I sat there metaphorically growling at the guy, he gave Janey an address and told us to dress formal. Sold!

I am not a socializer but I love formal wear. Something about tuxedos brings out the "Bond - James Bond" in me and of course Janey in an expensive designer gown is always worth whatever painful small-talk I have to endure for the sight. 

European trains are excellent but I was tired of riding around with other people and I had actually broken down when we got into Barcelona and bought a super-fast version of my old Bentley GTC. So we made plans to motor out to the party that night. 

Janey has her hair cut in the same very fashionable bob that every preppy woman I have ever known favors. It never seems to need care. 

Her hair is so thick that it can go through a hurricane and then she can pat it back into place. And Janey is a totally unaffected wild-thing when it comes to convertibles. 

So we drove out to the hills by Sant Vincenc with her dressed to the teeth, the top down and with her laughing and holding both of her bare arms up in the air as her hair blew in the wind.

It was one of those classic Barcelona evenings with the air so soft and sweet smelling you could almost feel it on your skin and red-gold highlights all over the sky. 

Janey was wearing a modest little amber number that probably set her back a couple of thousand dollars, only showed about a yard of cleavage and emphasized her beautiful full hips and muscled legs. 

Needless to say it was designed to stop the hearts of every male at the party and that ambition was another thing I loved about her. I had my best white dinner jacket combo on, trying to give Connery a run for his money. I didn't pack my Beretta. I should have.

The location of the party reeked of serious European money. I am a foot taller than she is. But because she is so very athletic you get the impression that we are much closer to the same height; unless she is actually walking holding my arm, which she was doing in a nice ladylike 

fashion as we approached the door of the house. 

We get amused smiles when people see us together since there is such a contrast between us. Even in 5 inch heels she still didn't quite come up to the level of my nose. 

But she is so breathtakingly beautiful and self-possessed that when we enter a room people only see a confident, formidable looking little woman attached to a very arrogant blond man. If they only knew that a teddy bear I really am. 

The host actually rushed over to do the introductions followed shortly thereafter by the guy with the drinks. Maybe this thing wouldn't be so bad after all. 

I met a number of people I would never see again. But one of the women at the party caught my interest. She was almost as world-class attractive as Janey. But she was like a photographic negative of her. 

Where Janey is short, dark and voluptuous, this woman was tall, fair and athletically slim. She had very long, thick beautiful blond hair above a great tan with huge cornflower blue eyes in a round "girl next door" face and the same kind of sensual mouth as Janey's, which hinted of fires burning somewhere below the surface. 

Her body looked like a tennis player's, wide shoulders, long strong legs slim waist and lithe hips. There was little to speak of in the way of boobs, but what she had was well displayed in a low cut turquoise number. 

We had time to talk because Janey was already on the dance floor. You don't marry an ex-dancer and go to parties not expecting her to dance. And I am a terrible dancer, which is probably due to the fact that I hate everything about it. 

Thus, many years ago we came to an accommodation; she would handle the dancing, and I would handle the drinking. 

Janey moves tremendously well and she is extremely sexual when she dances, so every male at the party was lining up for the chance to boogey with her. 

By the way, that should, also answer any of your other questions about jealousy. I know that nobody monopolizes Janey's time on the dance floor because there are always a pack of males beating each other up for the next dance.

~ 

Janey

Paul has an almost physical aversion to "pointlessness", which all social evenings are. But if we don't socialize I can't dance and that is my passion. 

I don't know whether I have to move because dance has been an all-consuming part of my life, or whether it was the NEED to move that led me to become a dancer. But the description from a Chorus Line applies to me, "Lord I'm a dancer and a dancer dances."  

That urge to move has always been a part of me. My parents have videos of me boogying to the beat before I could walk and talk. So, whenever the music starts I have to dance. 

I could hear the music as we walked up the brick inlaid path to the house. The house itself was very impressive and I am a person who has seen it all when it comes to wealth. 

It was built into and along the top of one of the rolling hills that are part of the landscape in Catalonia, two stories of whitewashed and oak beamed exterior, with large rocks forming the foundation. 

The windows on the main room of the house, which was to the left of the tiled and terrazzoed vestibule as we entered, were 20 feet high floor to ceiling with astonishing views of the sun that was just then disappearing in the distance. 

The music was provided by a professional DJ, through a sound system that must have needed a nearby nuclear plant to power it. 

It was intoxicating and I instantly headed for the middle of the floor arms already over my head, undulating happily from the tips of my fingers, through my body down to my "kicky" 5 inch pumps. 

When I dance, I don't select partners as much as they select me. I start out dancing by myself and a guy, or several guys, or even women will just join up. That was the case here. 

My immediate partner was a very good looking Spanish guy, maybe a couple of years older than me. He was part of the group on the beach. He told me that his father, the older Spanish guy who invited us in the first place, was the person who owned the house. 

He was an extremely good dancer, very sensitive to the music, fluid and limber and he put a lot of himself into his moves. I find that attractive. I dance to express myself and if you watch me you will get some sense of my underlying passions. 

We danced facing each other and then facing somebody else. A number of guys cut in. But he kept ending up in front of me. I got the impression he was more than a little interested. That was what I was aiming for.

~

Paul

From long experience I knew that Janey would not miss a beat for the next 4 or 5 hours. So I had time to kill. Fortunately there was plenty of good unblended scotch to occupy my time and a beautiful blond woman to partner with. 

I might be on the porch thanks to Janey. But that doesn't mean I can't while away my drinking hours doing the time honored cocktail party mating ritual with a very pretty lady. And this one was a stunner, in a healthy, clear-eyed, round faced, all-American, college cheerleader, best sorority on campus sort of way. 

She had a similar quirky sense of humor as Janey's, which actually made the small-talk enjoyable and the sight of those long beautiful legs, supple hips and tiny round ass was a faultless vision. 

We talked a bit about our backgrounds. She was from Illinois. She was there with her husband who I had met earlier. 

I don't throw the term "asshole" around lightly. But in my humble opinion in any dictionary under total "dick-wad", it said "see him." 

He was there to peddle whatever he sold to the Spanish dude. 

I have the advantage of actually being richer than Jane's parents. So I don't have to hustle for money. This guy obviously did. 

He had been attached to the older guy like a limpet, since we arrived; laughing uproariously and generally trying to dominate the small talk of the group of men gathered in a corner of the room. 

He had probably been a guard or a linebacker in college. Now he had gone to paunch, with a very short haircut to hide his encroaching male pattern baldness. 

My new blond friend was obviously embarrassed by his behavior but she kept her end of the conversation up. She told me that they didn't have kids but she wanted to have one before she turned 35. She was presently Janey's age, 28. 

She had spent a hitch as a Marine nurse prior to meeting her husband and had risen to the rank of First Lieutenant. 

Janey has never been outside of the privileged world that she was born in, but I have had other experiences and one of them was a couple of tours as a crew-chief and door gunner with the Night Stalkers, so we had something in common to talk about. 

And since it was the combat nurses in that Iraqi aide station who patched me up and probably saved my life I have a special affection for that profession.

She said that she liked the military and she had regrets about getting out. After her separation from the service she had worked at a hospital in Chicago. She met her husband there. 

Based on her story he seemed to have bullied, rather than wooed her into marriage. When I asked her whether his brand of aggressive courtship should have told her something about their subsequent life together, she just looked sad. 

We had been drinking and swapping lies about which service was tougher, the Marines or the Airborne when it dawned on me that my little Marine would probably like to dance. 

They had just begun a slow tune for a change, and although I am spastic on the dance floor I can stand there and shift from foot-to-foot with the best of them. 

So I offered and she accepted with a shy ironic "thanks." I glanced around. Her husband was still loudly regaling the group around him, with the lights glittering off his sweaty head. Janey was dancing in the middle of the floor with some lucky fellow. 




A Lifetime Romance Pt. 03



She had her pillow-tits squashed against his chest and her head turned and resting dreamily on his shoulder, with her arms around his neck playing with his hair. 

Her victim had both of her taut round butt cheeks in his hand and was idly squeezing them while he pulled her as tightly as possible against his most assuredly rock hard erection. 

I have said that Janey is my unreservedly faithful soul mate but that was not to imply that she doesn't like hunting men for sport. 

And like the cat, which she most assuredly is, stalking prey is in her blood. She wasn't going to let the guy go much further than the thrill that he was getting at that moment. Maybe if she liked him she might let him cop a feel of those magnificent jugs but that would be it. 

I could see that Janey was enjoying the hunt so I left her to it with my best wishes. This guy was going to get bliss for one song while I had that splendid creature for a lifetime. Almost seemed unfair...

~

Janey

They played a slow song. I usually don't dance to slow songs because there is no actual dancing unless your partner knows real ballroom, which most guys don't. 

Instead most guys turn slow songs into an opportunity to plaster their body all over you and squeeze things. But tonight's regular partner was good looking and a decent dancer, so as his reward I thought I would turn the guy's temperature up a little bit. 

As I expected, what started out as a classic slow dance pose almost immediately turned into a wrestling clinch. He had both arms around me holding my butt in a kind-of death grip, which pulled my pussy directly against his crotch. And his interest was clearly rising. 

It was good that he was using both hands to massage my cheeks, because it meant that he was not making any moves for my tits. That would have been one step over the line. 

But, I did smash them on his chest and let him feel them move around between us. That was stimulating for both of us. I also had my arms thrown around his neck to facilitate the contact, which was making him actually purr. I was doing a bit of purring myself.

Some people might think I am shameless. But in my mind there was nothing more personal going on in that little moment then the interaction between the hunter and her prey. 

Paul knows that I would never take one step further than that. My body belongs to him. He knows it. I know it. But there is just something in my personality that makes me like to wind up men for sport. 

I have not talked about this with other women. So I don't know whether the urge to sexually manipulate the male of the species is something that is fundamental to our gender, OR whether it is just fundamental to me. 

I was absolutely certain I didn't need the re-affirmation. But I just love that exquisite moment when you know that you have bagged another one. That was what I was doing here. 

~

Paul

My partner started out dancing in the normal slow-dance fashion but she very quickly worked her way in so that she was dancing plastered to me like Janey was with her partner. 

She said nothing but she was actually whimpering a bit and seemed to be shivering. That was disturbing so I tried to give her some comfort in my arms. 

She was soft and warm and inviting with intoxicating perfume. Her lithe body moved with mine like we were one person and her beautiful blond hair hung over my two hands, which were resting on the silky bare skin of her back at the point where the deep cut-out of the back of her dress ended.

My hands were just above the exquisite little globes of her ass. Janey has wide hips and a big round muscular butt. This woman had much narrower hips, but with the same kind of firm jutting buns that absolutely drive men wild. 

As she moved against me she began to caress the back of my neck like we were lovers. I thought, "If it made her feel better it was doing wonders for me."

We were abruptly dumped out of our little moment by her husband drunkenly grabbing her by the arm saying, "Eve C'mere." 

He was clearly not acting out of jealousy. He just wanted her with him - now! To say that that totally pissed me off would be an understatement. 

And to put it bluntly she seemed afraid of the guy when he did it, which made me curious. 

I am always interested in people's stories, even the bad ones. That's probably why I'm a story teller. In this case it was more like the instinct that makes people gawk at really bad traffic accidents. 

So, as he marched her over to his group I just stood in the middle of the dance floor and watched. Given subsequent events I am sorry that I did. 

They were playing rap now and Jane was dancing back to front with a new man, who was getting the sublime experience of pressing his crotch against her magnificently twitching buns. 

She was near me on the floor and we exchanged a private glance. By the glint in her eye I could tell that my little huntress was toying with new prey. 

I was stalking much more unsavory game, so I drifted off the dance floor and sat in a leather Morris chair by the wall, sipped a new drink and watched my little Marine interact with her husband and his pals. 

The wings of the Morris chair were perfect cover for the reconnaissance. 

The guy had her standing obediently next to him while he and his friends talked. That was suspicious in the first place, since he had been totally ignoring her for the past three hours. 

As I watched stealthy glances were exchanged and the older Spanish man, who had invited us in the first place, went out of the room and came back with a drink, which he handed to the husband. 

The husband took it, held it and then handed it to his wife in an off-handed manner, as if he had just thought to give her a drink. 

She didn't notice any part of that odd exchange because two of the husband's friends appeared to be intentionally distracting her. 

I perked up my ears. 

She smiled at her husband with her eyes and took a sip. Then she drank it down like she was dying of thirst. I understood that. It was hot in there. 

As she drank, everybody in the group seemed to be intently but covertly watching her. I thought it might be my over-heated imagination that was causing me to think what I was thinking. But sure enough a few minutes later she began to look really green and then sagged against her husband. 

I thought to myself, holy fuck! Did that stinking pile of human excrement just roofie his own wife!!??? As she sagged the older man reached over and put his arm around her. Leaving the group he began to walk her unsteadily down a long marble hall. 

The house was shaped like a big hammer. We were partying in the head which had huge floor to ceiling windows overlooking the Catalonian hills. The handle had numerous rooms off of it and that was where they were headed. 

There was a very bad vibe going on. And so, without really thinking about it I followed them. 

It was easy to surreptitiously tag along since the older man was focusing completely on the woman, and the husband's group was now loudly sharing their own secret joke. 

The two of them disappeared into a room on the left side of the hall at the end of the handle of the hammer. I heard a door close and a deadbolt click. 

I knew that any further involvement was nuts. I wasn't going to be able to "save" her. I was in Spain, in a house full of locals and with a husband and friends who might resent the intrusion. 

But deep down, every man wants to follow the story to the end. Maybe he was actually just giving her a place to lie down? So in my primitive lizard brain I just KNEW that I was selling both her and me out if I proceeded to wander off without thinking anything more about the situation. 

But, I had to get eyes-on the target to decide what that next step was. 

Looking around I saw a stairwell. It led down to the garden. Maybe I could reconnoiter through a window? 

I bolted down the marble stairs and out into the night. Sure enough, there was a balcony. 

Now all I had to do was levitate myself fifteen feet into the air - where are the handy ladders, drain pipes, or trellises when you need one? 

But there was a three foot stone bench underneath and with my arms extended I was within a foot of the balcony floor. 

I can jump pretty high for a "white guy." In fact, when I jumped I actually grabbed the railing above the floor itself and with a little heaving and swinging I was able to get a leg up and then I was all the way onto the balcony; all of that without as much as wrinkling my tux. Eat your heart out James Bond.

I made my way very surreptitiously over to the balcony door, which was open to let the night breezes in. 

I was aware of the fact that sneaking around on a strange balcony in a foreign country might get me arrested, or my ass kicked. But the now distinctly voyeuristic mission I was on needed to be taken to a conclusion, if nothing more than to satisfy my curiosity. 

The room was brightly lit and I could see that my little Marine was lying naked on a sleeping couch, much like the classic psychiatrist kind. 

Her silk turquoise dress and undergarments were neatly folded on a nearby chair with her shoes underneath. Her body was as lissome and lovely as I had imagined it; solid immaculate hips, long beautiful legs, pale, almost translucent, white skin with little pink nipples topping her perky breasts. 

Even though I could have sworn that I heard the sound of a woman violently throwing up as I was clambering up on the balcony, she was peacefully asleep now, with her long blond hair fanned out underneath her lovely face and body. 

She looked like she wasn't in any distress so I turned to retrace my steps. As I did, the older Spanish guy emerged from the bathroom. He was stark naked and by all evidence unmistakably interested in her. 

He had a rubber on a cock that you would normally associate with a donkey and that bad boy was clearly straining to get going. So what I had suspected was true... That miserable asshole must have really wanted whatever the old dude was offering if he was willing to throw in his innocent wife as a sweetener. 

I didn't want to see what I knew was going to happen next so I crept over to the balcony railing to depart the get away from the scene of the soon to happen crime. 

But as I got there, I heard a number of loud voices right below me. SHIT!! The DJ was taking a break and half the party was out in the garden smoking, SHIT!! SHIT!! SHIT!! 

It didn't take James Bond to figure out that a stealthy figure clad in a tux climbing down off a balcony in the middle of the night might raise a modicum of suspicion among the locals. 

And I also didn't want to admit that I had been standing there in the dark watching their host prepare to rape one of his guests. Might make people wonder about ME. 

So discretion being the better part of valor I stepped back to lurk behind a pillar until the music started again. Unfortunately I was way too close to the door of that fateful room. 

I could distinctly hear kissing, sucking and slurping noises coming from the direction of the couch. That was accompanied by little kitty-like mewing sounds and ghostly moans. 

Those noises went on for an inordinately long period of time and then I heard a small gasp and groan that might have been somebody having an orgasm. 

The whole situation was getting to be too weird for me, so I frantically checked the garden below; willing the people who were out there to get the fuck back inside. 

The noises from the room got a little louder. There was a sharp intake of breath and several toneless "Oh Gods!" followed by machine-like pounding noises. That went on for a few minutes. 

Then I started to hear an ever increasing "Ahhh, Ahhhh, Ahhhh, Ahhhh", which built to wild cries and moans, lurid squishy sounds, frenzied thrashing and the noisy wall-banging sound of a body being literally thrown around in a bed. 

You would have to be an absolute sociopath or a total idiot to think that any woman enjoys being raped. And no mistake - that was what was going on there. 

And it would be an extreme understatement to say that I regretted the fact that my own hubris had made me a witness. 

But my little Marine friend was also to all extents and purposes unconscious and so I knew that what I was hearing was just the human animal reacting to extreme stimulus. She wouldn't remember anything wherever and whenever she woke up. 

Nonetheless, the sex noises in there were getting so loud that I was worried that the people in the yard would hear them and look up and see ME lurking there. 

Just then, the music started up again and everybody started filing back in. The garden was soon empty, which was a good thing. That was because the Catalonian night was suddenly pierced by a long hypersonic wail. The Marine's finishing cry would have done justice to a gut shot coyote. 

As I swung over the railing I wondered if that creepy son-of-a-bitch staged regular roofie parties or whether the frequency depended on the tourist trade. 

I lowered myself down. All I could think about was getting away from there as fast as the GTC's 500 horsepower could take me. Then it hit me. 

THE MARINE WAS ONLY THE SECOND BEST LOOKING WOMAN AT THE PARTY!! 

And if I hadn't been off on my own quest, I would probably be sleeping somewhere while strangers raped my unconscious wife. OR MAYBE THEY WERE DOING THAT ALREADY!!

~

Janey

Paul had disappeared for an extraordinarily long period of time. I amuse myself at most parties by twisting men around my finger. But I always know exactly where he is. And now I had lost him. 

The DJ had taken a break and the dancing area was almost completely vacated. There was just the husband of the woman who Paul had been talking to and a few of his friends. They were looking at me as if they were watching me for some reason, other than just the usual ogling. That group included the guy who had dry-humped me during the slow number. 

I was panic stricken. The little voice in my head was rampaging around wagging her finger at me shouting, "You left him alone with an absolutely gorgeous woman, while you were slutting around out there acting like a hussy ... WHAT DID YOU EXPECT HIM TO DO YOU DUMB SHIT!!?" 

The woman I had left him with had the sort of beauty that every other female envies, a girl next door type, with the exquisite hair and the perfect body of a fashion model. 

I know that my face and body are just as remarkable in some respects, but I am completely different; much shorter and much more round and muscular. The voice in my head tried sarcasm, "So maybe he wanted a little change of pace!!???"

Would Paul do that??? 

When I had last seen the two of them she was dancing with him in the same way that I was dancing with the Spanish guy. I don't take any of that physical contact stuff seriously. But from the short conversation I had had with her I knew that she was not as experienced with men. 

Instead she was one of those painfully sincere, "all-in" women who would be likely to fall in love with Paul right there on the spot. 

And when I last saw her she was looking at him like she wanted to have his baby. 

Paul is my soul-mate. We both know what we represent to each other. It is just that he also happens to be a male and men are simple creatures easily led astray. 

I ran to the window and scanned the garden. NOT THERE! Now I was really feeling the dread. 

My stomach twisted at the thought that he was somewhere in the house banging that hot little blond beauty. 

I had a moment like that with a past lover and all I could think of was, "I hope he'll be as honest with me as I was with him." 

The music started up as I sprinted back toward the last place I had seen him, which was a chair near the hallway. 

I intended to pound on every door in that hall. 

As I got to the portal however, I was so overcome by emotion that I had to take a moment to sit down and remember how to breathe properly. 

I sat down on the chair for a second, just to catch my breath when I heard a voice. It was the husband of the woman Paul had gone off with. He was accompanied by my dancing partner for the evening. Both looked very solicitous and concerned. 

The husband said "Are you all right?" He was handing me a drink, worry written all over his face. The other guy was looking at me expectantly and more than a little hungrily. The little voice in my head crossed her arms and said, "What the Fuck??!"

~

Paul

I am not the fastest guy in the world but I made it back to the main room at warp speed. 

Janey was nowhere to be seen! I looked around me with rising panic, visualizing her unconscious body being fucked senseless by some pervert in a nearby room. 

Then, with overpowering relief, I saw her. She was draped languidly on a chair, which was the one that I had vacated when I went off tracking the Marine. 

It was conveniently located nearest the hall bedrooms. The Marine's husband was in the process of handing Janey a drink. I yelled Janey!! She turned with a delighted smile just as I arrived on the scene. 

There is a course in Basic that ought to be entitled "how to fight dirty." The aim is to get soldiers to understand that in life or death situations the aim is to disable the enemy not be a "gentleman." And this dude was a lot bigger than me. 

So rather than a "fair fight" I put the point of my elbow in that little soft place on the skull that is just in front of his ear and behind the eye. That strike always guarantees a long and uninterrupted sleep. 

My desperate run and what I had just witnessed down the hall only added more force to the blow. 

The guy went down like the proverbial sack of potatoes. Even better he wet himself. The glass flew. Janey yelled WHAT THE FUCK?? 

I turned to her and said in my calmest voice "it's a roofie." 

She looked questioningly at the guy who had been monopolizing most of her time on the dance-floor. He had obviously been lurking there waiting for her to take that drink. He looked incredibly guilty, turned almost purple, and actually gulped. 

She processed that for a count of two, and then without further ado stood up, did a neat little one step pirouette, and buried the toe of her 5 inch spike heel perfectly between his left and right nut. 

Every man for generations back to Adam winced. 

Because Janey's legs are inordinately strong, the guy actually threw up as he was passing out. 

Then for good measure she did the same thing to the husband of the Marine lying dead at her feet. This time the kick was more Rockette than ninja and she used the other leg. Ambidextrousness is one of the advantages of being a dancer. 

Thanks to me he was in another place consciousness-wise and my only thought was that at least the creep got what he deserved. 

My sole regret was that the old guy wasn't around to be treated to some of Janey's brand of "frontier justice." 

Then she proceeded to stalk out of the place, high heels clicking loudly on the floor as she flounced out the door. 

I never actually thought that people would stand there with their mouths literally open. But that is what 70 people were doing at that point. 

I shrugged and mumbled apologetically; "roofie", then quickly followed her out into the parking lot.

On the way home I told her what I had seen. She told me in no uncertain terms that I was a male idiot with a "knight in shining armor" complex. 

I had the audacity to point out that it was that complex that had prevented her from being roofied, which only pissed her off more. 

We were not sure what the repercussions of her trashing the equipment of two of the honored guests would be, so we moved quarters the 30 miles down to Barcelona that night. 

And to be on the safe side, bright and early on the next day we booked us and the GTC on the Barcelona-to- Genoa ferry. 




A Lifetime Romance Pt. 03



I figured it would be a good idea to get out of town before anybody came asking questions. But as I suspected, we never heard from any of those disturbing people again. 

I think about that night a lot when I am having my middle of the night terrors and to this day I wonder what happened to my little Marine. 

I hope that at a minimum she divorced that impossible piece of shit. But I am more afraid that she didn't remember what happened that night and continues to play his loyal and willing victim. She was a sweet decent person and she deserved a lot better.



A Lifetime Romance Pt. 04



I am glad a few of you like these stories. I write novels because I need the space to develop my characters and I like romance where the scene doesn't fade to black when the protagonists are doing what everybody knows they are doing. This chapter is from later in my first book. I am going to put up the companion chapters when my day job permits

~

Paul

I had bought a CNB Bordeaux 60 in Salerno. The aim was to cruise the eastern Mediterranean. It is a beautiful boat, with plenty of space and a really good galley. 

Janey is as adept at handling a boat as I am. So even though the Bordeaux is 60 feet long we were able to manage it by ourselves. 

The Bordeaux is capable of going anywhere. But we had decided to work our way along the instep of the Italian boot, like an ancient Roman galley, stopping at any interesting village we encountered on the Apulia side. 

Most nights were spent anchored in an inlet out of the shipping lanes making love. 

The Mediterranean is indescribably beautiful on a summer night and the sex was great but we were both getting a little bored with coastline hopping so, we decided to sail from where we were in Taranto Harbor to Mykonos, which is rumored to be the best party island in the Greek Cyclades. 

~

Janey 

Paul and I needed some rest after the strange adventures that we had been having and there is no better place to find peace and quiet than on a big sailboat in the Mediterranean summer. 

Even a little distance out at sea the sky changes into an azure backdrop to water that is literally purple in color. The sun is hot and sensual and the offshore breeze that was pushing us along was captivating. 

Paul is a very experienced sailor. I had sailed all of my life, just not in 60 footers. The teamwork that it takes to sail a big boat was turning me on more than the sight of Paul himself. 

Between the two of us I worked the sails using the power assists and Paul was helmsman, navigator and master of all he beheld. 

There is good wind in the Mediterranean in the summer and we rarely fired up the D4 Detroit diesel, just to maneuver in and out of our stopping places for the night. 

Paul has different skin than me. I am dusky and when I tan I turn deeply golden. Paul is Nordic and when he eventually reaches a point where he can't get any darker he looks like a piece of old oak, almost dark brown. 

He is a muscular guy in a utilitarian, never-worked-out-but-I-have-worked-hard, kind of way. The time in the boat had leaned him down so the bulging muscles in his shoulders and chest stood out more than usual and his always muscular stomach got to six-pack status. 

He had the whole "ancient mariner" thing going with a well-kept dark blond beard to contrast with his hair, which the sun had bleached to almost white blond. 

But of course the things that made me practically cum every time I looked at him were his eyes, which were the same clear, piercing blue as his Viking helmsman ancestors. 

We were not sure what we wanted to do and we also wanted to get the kinks out of the boat. So after passing through the Straits of Messina we spent a couple of weeks working our way around the instep of the Italian boot, mostly under sail. 

The Bordeaux has an excellent galley/cabin arrangement that works perfectly with two people. He chose the cruiser package which is a lot more functional than the racing one. I am no cook and he is no better than I am. So we would anchor for the night near some rustic town or village and eat in out of the way trattorias and picturesque inns. 

We would roll back to the boat in the Zodiac, with the feeling of well-being that an exquisite dinner and a good bottle of red gives you, and fall directly into bed. 

We have been married for a long time but we still need each other. Sometimes we made very sweet, gentle passionate love. But more often than not we just have a long spooning session, while I fell asleep in his arms. 

I would have married Paul for a million reasons, but the fact that he will spoon me without getting restless is one of the top ones. Feeling protected like that is a serious girl thing.

Once we had the boat configured, we were ready to start the real journey. We had a choice of south east to Malta and on to Alexandria, retracing the routes of the ancient Roman grain ships, or north east to Greece and the Anatolian peninsula. 

Since we were planning a full circuit of the eastern Mediterranean it really didn't matter which way we headed. We would get to all of those places eventually anyhow. 

So Paul put a map down on the galley table, told me to cover my eyes and point to the spot we would sail to first. I closed my eyes, circled my finger and put it down on Yekaterinburg, Russia, which is 2,000 Kilometers east of Moscow and in the middle of Asia; so much for random selection. 

But since that was northeast rather than south east we figured the direction was close enough. Thus we hauled sail around the Umbrian side of the boot and headed for Greece.

~

Paul

We planned to take the much shorter passage through the Corinth canal rather than sail around the tip of Greece, between Cythera and the mainland. Therefore, we set course north-northeast to Patra at the mouth of the Gulf of Corinth. 

As we cruised up that body of water we were near most of the storied cities of classical Greece, Sparta, Argos and Corinth itself. We docked at the city of Corinth at the mouth of the bay, which is approximately the beginning of the canal. 

This "Corinth" isn't the same one as the classical City that brought us Corinthian columns. It is the city founded 3 miles from the ruins of the old one, which ran afoul of the Romans back in the day. It ended up completely sacked in the process. 

We took a day trip out to the ruins of the actual Corinth, which is rumored to be haunted thanks to the fact that every male in the place was put to the sword when the Romans showed up. 

I don't know what we expected to see, but the ruins themselves were just a bunch of stone sticking out of a big field. And there were no ghosts that we were able to discern, although there were some very shabby looking tourists.

The canal itself is cut straight through the isthmus at sea level so the edges are 90 feet above the waterline of the boat. It was actually a little dark and intimidating as we made our way the six miles from the Bay of Corinth to Isthmia on the Saronic Gulf. 

Nevertheless, that six mile canal saved us nearly 700 miles sailing around the entire Peloponnese. The Course from Isthmia on the Aegean side is a little south of east toward Mykonos, which took us past the island of Aegina. 

Because we were in no hurry we landed for a couple of days at Souvalas on the north side of the Island and rented a really nifty little resort studio for the stay. 

There were the usual classical ruins all over the place but the main attraction was the town's Fish Tavern, which I could have eaten at for days and not gotten tired of. 

We made course from Souvalas on a heading of approximately 110 degrees south of Patrokolos Island across the Aegean and directly toward Mykonos. 

On the map that heading looks like you would have to constantly dodge shipping out of Athens but the Aegean is a big body of water and even though they are well populated, the sea lanes in the Mediterranean are vast. 

So we could see ships big and small on the horizon we never actually crossed paths with one in our entire reach across to the Cyclades. 

We were alone on an ocean that the sun's reflection had turned into the legendary bronze shield that Homer had described in the Iliad. That meant that clothing was optional. 

I like to wear my shorts because I need the pockets for stuff but Janey saw no need for anything but the skin she was born in. As a result, the sun had baked her to a beautiful golden brown, completely all over. 

And Janey has no body issues. So, from the time we cleared the Greek mainland and went out into open water she never bothered to put on a stitch of clothes, except my old sweater to fight the cold at night. 

Of course every other preppy princess would have spent her nude time lying on a towel sipping lemonade. Janey spent it working on the boat like the saltiest seadog in the entire history of sailing ships.

~

Janey

We are so close that I get turned on knowing that I have no secrets from him. Men are different of course. Paul is better than most but they all have their little secrets. 

Since I began thinking of males in "that" way I have known that they are all just little boys, incapable of being truly open to their women. 

Maybe it is the "don't want mommy to know I've been naughty" thing. 

Maybe it is the fact that they think we would run screaming away from them if they let us know what was really going on in their primitive brains. At any rate all of them hide things. 

I am confident that Paul keeps his secrets in order to protect me and I am secure enough in my love for him that I trust him as much as any woman will ever trust a man. Consequently, it just doesn't dawn on me to be self-conscious when I am stark naked in front of him. 

I think that I may be one of very few women in the world who actually likes their body. I have a right to I suppose, given the time I spent building it. That's why I have absolutely no problem parading around in front of Paul with nothing on. 

He always wears shorts, claims he needs the pockets. I am never sure whether that is the actual situation, or just an excuse not to do the "Adam and Eve" thing with me. 

I go nuts if I don't work. It is no doubt some personality defect that makes it impossible for me to just sit there like a good girl and not move. 

And I like to sweat. So while we are at sea I am constantly looking for things to do. 

I trim the sails every 15 minutes whether they need it or not. I work on the diesel down in the engine room when there is no trimming to do. I cut line and I fold and refold the spare sails. But my favorite thing to do is scrub. 

The boat gets salty from the ocean spray and so it has to be maintained on a daily basis. The feeling of the sun on my bare back and butt as I work out every muscle I own is an absolutely sensual experience and it has the added bonus of working off all of my excess sexual energy. 

I am so highly sexed I would probably fuck Paul every hour on the hour if I didn't think it would kill him. So instead I channel my energy into physical labor. 

And at the rate that I burn I might scrub the paint off the boat someday trying to sublimate my sexual feelings, but all of that cleaning DOES make me feel much calmer.

~

Paul

I was sitting at the helmsman position monitoring the headings as they came off the boat's SC-30 satellite compass. Even though it fed directly into the self-steering gear I wanted to put a human eyeball on it occasionally just to make sure it was working properly. 

Janey was somewhere forward on the boat. She is the world's best deck hand constantly looking for things to do to keep the boat shipshape, from cutting line to adjusting the sail, to cooking in the galley. 

As I looked up she was on her hands and knees without a stitch of clothing on industriously scrubbing the foredeck. 

All I could really see from the cockpit was her big round muscular buns framing the world's sexiest pussy. But as she worked she turned 180 degrees and I could now see the top of her head, her broad shoulders and a pair of absolutely breathtaking tits with incredible nipples hanging down. 

She was working on the deck with her usual fierce concentration, her tits swaying back and forth like the proverbial ripe melons as she scrubbed. 

She had worked her way around to the port side of the cabin now. She was concentrating on her scrubbing and not paying the slightest bit of attention to her surroundings, which gave me a very naughty idea.

We were laid over on a starboard tack with the self-steering gear engaged and nothing on the horizon except hot sun. The port side was elevated about 15 degrees. 

I crept around the cabin on the lower starboard side and sneaked back up along it on the port side, so that her back was to me. 

I marveled at how beautifully the muscles on her back interplayed with each other as she scrubbed and how awesomely powerful that entire hip complex was. I thought to myself, "All of those years of intensive dance training certainly make for a magnificent round butt." 

I eased out of my shorts, dropped them on the deck, and moved stealthily on my knees to a position right behind her industriously wriggling ass. 

I know that women do not like to be interrupted in the fashion that I was planning; it somehow just lacks romance for them. But once in a while my lust wins out over proper decorum and that golden brown beauty with her incredibly ripe body was way too tempting for any right minded captain to ignore. So I aimed and inserted. 

Janey is always a little wet so I slipped into her with ease and Janey never says no. But she did pause, sigh loudly with resignation and without looking back or altering her body position one iota, she continued to scrub. 

Her insides were as hot and silky as ever and the smell of healthy girl as I sawed back and forth made the fact that she was making a point of ignoring me all the more moot. 

After a short period of plunging in and out however she did pause in her work, carefully put down her scrub brush and began to hang onto the port side railing with her right hand, while her left hand grabbed one of the cabin cleats. Then she arched that superb back. 

There was still no sound except the water bubbling past the hull and my protracted breathing.

We continued that way for probably half a nautical mile and suddenly she threw her head back hard, her insides convulsed, and she shook, still without uttering a sound. 

Needless to say that pushed me into an orgasm that almost knocked me off of the boat. 

I withdrew as soon as we had both stopped the ecstatic quaking. Backed off, pulled my pants up and went back to steering. She immediately went back to scrubbing without a single word passing between us. 

Point made, don't disturb me while I am working. 

It was the most stimulating and bizarre sexual experience I have ever had; until later that night.

~

Janey

Like most men, Paul's sense of humor is worthy of a six year old. I was scrubbing my way down the side of the boat next to the cabin when I felt a pressure on my pussy lips and he slid into me to the hilt. I love the way he fills me up but I'd prefer that he ask me first. 

So instead of doing the "Fuck Me Baby!!" thing I just decided to ignore him. I even understood that in his pea sized, juvenile mind he was giving me the male version of a compliment by creeping up on me from the back. 

But the whole thing lacked any of the desired romance and intimacy. 

Some women would actually take what he was doing as sign of disrespect but they are wrong. I know men very well, and I know that they have this "thing" about "possessing" their woman in that kind of direct fashion. 

It actually probably represents some form of primitive statement of ownership for them for God's sake. I am sure that idea was embedded in their lizard brains when our species first swung down out of the trees. 

But being grabbed for sex at any old time of the day is still annoying. 

So I just continued to scrub totally ignoring the "gift" he was giving me. Eventually, his fucking elicited the desired response and I just had to cum for him. But as soon as I got that out of the way I went back to work. 

He had clearly enjoyed his little prank a lot more than I had though. So as he withdrew from me without a word and went back to steering the boat I could see a totally self-satisfied look on his male face. The little lady in my head was plotting revenge. 

~

Paul

Given the southbound ship traffic, it would be suicidal to just drift in the middle of the Aegean to sleep. So we stood 24 hour watches. I always stand the night watch. Then Janey spells me on the day watch so I can get 4 or 5 hours of shuteye. 

We were out of sight of land with a cloudless night sky overhead. The Mediterranean is literally like black velvet with diamonds on it. There was a very bright full moon on the starboard quarter that lit up the entire cockpit. 

When the sky looks like that and you are sitting by yourself in the middle of the water in one of the most ancient parts of the world you feel like you are close to some sort of higher power, which in my mind explains why that area is the origin of three of the world's major religions. 

The water bubbling past the hull and the phosphorescent wake alone helps you understand where the Greeks got all that mythology about sea gods. And the warm night wind in the sails is literally sensual. 

Anybody who has ever stood watch understands how easy it is to get lost in yourself, as the hours pass. I was carefully checking the reciprocal bearing on the helmsman's compass to validate our heading and fighting dozing off when the door to the cabin opened and the Greek goddess Aphrodite herself stepped out on deck.

Janey stood there striking the same pose as the Venus in the British Museum, which is generally considered to be the ideal of classical feminine beauty. One arm was modestly hiding her huge breasts while her other hand was covering her womanhood. 

She posed like that for several moments, the blue-white light of the moon made her fabulous body almost glow with unearthly radiance. 

She is a surreally beautiful woman at age 28. She was just as stunning when she was 23. And her bone structure, fine, smooth skin, the exceptionally harmonious proportions of her face and her glowing natural health guarantee that her beauty will shine through just as brightly when she is 91. 

However, it is those incredibly intelligent and powerful eyes that will always captivate you. At the moment they were focused on me. I started to say something to her but she shushed me with a finger to her lips. 

She ghosted past the wheel to where I was sitting in the helmsman's chair. I was looking puzzled. 

She silently undid the rope that was holding up my shorts and pulled them down my legs to the floor. 

She looked me deeply in the eye for several moments. I could see all kinds of complex emotions going on in there, which I as a poor male of the species would never be able to understand. 

She slid astride me up onto my legs facing me. Then she moved the final distance with her huge ripe tits first swaying and then pressed against my chest. 

I felt her incredible heat surround the part of me that had launched itself straight up in the air as soon as I saw her standing there in the moonlight of the afterdeck. She held me deep insider her, without moving or saying a word. Then her internal muscles began to work. 

I am probably violating the guy code by admitting this; but no male really understands what is going on inside the female during sex. I suppose that that is because you are normally too busy concentrating on jamming your thing as far up into her as you can get it. 

Not only that, I should also probably admit that men don't really care about what is going on inside the woman because it doesn't have much direct relevance to you getting your rocks off. 

But men will also grudgingly admit that women aren't as brutally simple as we are and that there are a lot of things happening inside an aroused female that you will never feel or comprehend. It was ALL taking place in this particular situation.

I started to move with her and she took her finger and pressed it on my lips in a "stop" gesture. So I sat there passively, with her astride me. She sat there absolutely unmoving also, while gazing directly into my eyes. 




A Lifetime Romance Pt. 04



At the same time her unnaturally hot and silky insides fluttered, nipped, clamped and massaged. It took quite a while. But the outcome was the most spectacular orgasm in the history of mankind. 

The inevitable climax was so earth shaking. I can say with certainty that I have never come like that before or since. 

As I shot into her she finally made a sound. It was a very loud gasp. Her insides convulsed chaotically and she threw herself into a back bend that almost touched her head to the deck at my feet, still astride with her powerful legs gripping mine and with me not touching her. I didn't know the human spine could bend like that. 

She held that pose for at least a half minute. All I could see was the little landing strip at the familiar point where our hips joined, her rock hard stomach and the tip of her rib cage. Even her giant tits had disappeared from sight, she was bent that far back. 

It was the most incredible display of physical strength and body control I have ever witnessed. 

After about thirty seconds she smoothly sat back up, still astride me. That move was amazing in itself because she just came up from an almost ninety degree back bend without heaving or using anything to right herself. 

Then She stood up pulling me out of her and without a word she disappeared back in the cabin. I got her point. She was illustrating the difference between man and woman and as usual I was humbled by her superior female soul. 

~

Janey

I love Paul with all of my heart. And in many ways he is the smartest man I know. But occasionally I feel like I have to fill in some of the places where "abysmally ignorant" doesn't begin to describe him. 

One of those is in how he handles intimacy. It is probably natural for "man the hunter" to go with hit and run tactics. That must be hardwired into them from the beginning of the species. 

Of course that is completely counter to what a woman wants. 

He had fucked me that afternoon and I am pretty sure he felt like he was telling me in his primeval way that he was mine and I was his. 

In fact, I think that that is often as close as the average man gets to being "close" to a woman from an intimacy standpoint. 

But as a woman I know that if you are truly in love with a man you want him to be completely part of you, not just in and out. So I chose the time that he was well into the night watch to teach him the difference.

He was sitting on the helmsman's bench staring at the compass. When I stepped out on the deck I intended to "pose", just to let him understand that this was the beginning of the "lesson." He stared at me like he had seen an apparition. 

As I walked over to him he started to talk to me, but "talking" is a man's domain and I was in charge tonight. So I shushed him. 

He looked puzzled and then surprised when I hopped up on his legs straddling him. Tonight I was Aphrodite, the Goddess of love herself. 

Aphrodite was supposedly born just east of our current position, at Pathos in the Aegean. I could feel her spirit as I undid his pants, slid them underneath us and inserted him into me. 

He slid up to the very top and I held him there, looking into his eyes. Those blue eyes are as vast and all-embracing as the north, without any of the coldness. And he was looking at me with the sort of intensity that normally turns me into liquid. 

But tonight I was the Goddess and I had to teach this pitiful male what being embraced by the female essence really felt like. 

So I began to work on him with my inner muscles. He started to move, but we were not fucking tonight, we were merging. No man could understand that difference and so I could not allow him to participate in the unification. 

I stopped him with my finger to his lips. We stayed in his position, absolutely still, while I continued to caress him deep inside me. 

He began to swell and spasm while sitting there motionless, which was incredibly stimulating. 

All of the action was going on inside me. We continued to look into each other's eyes and I could see the baby, the little boy and the man all looking out from in there. The merger was very close to us becoming one soul. 

And still my busy insides continued to tug and pull and milk and nip. The heat was mind-altering, the smell even more so. 

After an infinity of intimate merger he came. It was so powerful that I gasped loudly and lost total control over my entire body. Only my strong female legs held me to him, that and our joining. 

I fell back like I was dead. For more than a few moments my entire perspective was upside down, looking at the cabin with my hair hanging down to the floor. 

My insides eventually stopped heaving so I brought myself back to sitting on him. I pushed him out of me, stood up and walked back into the cabin closing the door. 

The Goddess was waiting there. She smiled and nodded her approval and then went on to her endless task of advising women in the difficult task of teaching men about true love. 

~

Paul

We reached Mykonos on the morning of the third day. I had wanted to stand all of the night watches to let Janey sleep and so I dropped anchor offshore and hit the cabin for six hours of shuteye. 

We were going to have to eventually dock the boat but I was in no mood for clearance paperwork and dockmaster fees until I had had some rest. 

Janey was still asleep, she had stood most of the watch with me the night before, sitting and talking and sipping coffee, wearing one of my sweaters and nothing else to keep off the cold. 

And she had nearly killed me on the first night's watch. 

She was naked as usual, lying on her side with her huge tits on faultless display. I lay down on my back next to her and immediately conked out. 

I awoke a few hours later bathed in sweat. 

Janey was still sleeping lying half on me, her head resting neatly under my chin. She is a cuddle monster, which is so totally endearing that it is hard to express. 

I don't know how she manages to do it, but her weight is never an issue when she's cuddling, which is kind of contradictory since she is very solid and muscular woman, albeit small. 

My theory is that she has hollow bones like a bird. 

Our legs were all tangled up and it was going to be difficult to get out of the bed without waking her. As I started to ease her off me she woke up. 

Another odd thing about Janey is that she goes from asleep to instantly awake, like a cat. She looked at me speculatively for a minute and then without preamble kissed me with open mouthed ardor. 

Kissing Janey is an experience that could substitute for sex with most women. She is totally "there" when she kisses somebody, so involved that it is like there is nobody else in the world. 

She is a perfect soul mate but because she also loves to kiss she will occasionally plant one on another man. 

That proceeds to redefine the term "jealous" for me, because I know what the guy is feeling and I suspect I know what she is feeling. It is just too damned intimate for my tastes, even if it is harmless. 

I said, "WOW! What was that for." 

She said, "thank you." 

I said "For what?" 

She said "Just thank you" and glided out of bed to the head. I'll never understand women.

~

Janey

Paul is like another part of me. It isn't so much a him or me as it is an "us." When I wake up with him the feeling of contented completeness is sometimes too much for me to bear. 

When we awoke that morning we were all tangled up. I could feel his breathing as I lay on his chest and his legs all mixed up with mine. I could also feel his rapidly stiffening member on my leg. 

I didn't want sex but I had to kiss him. We kissed deeply for a little while. Just a way of saying "I love you." 

Then I thanked him. I have no idea where THAT came from. It was just an overwhelming thought. 

He said quite logically, "For what" but the answer was so complex and lengthy I couldn't explain it. I just felt total gratitude that we had found each other and that we were together. 

I hopped out of bed hopefully giving him a complete overview of the "goods" and disappeared into the head. Tonight I was going to put on a show that would have the whole world envying this man.

~

Paul

We anchored next to a line of fishing boats. It was getting later in the afternoon and Janey had changed out of her birthday suit and into a little short skirt and matching silk shirt number that didn't involve much cloth but looked like it had cost her four or five hundred dollars in Paris. Needless to say she didn't require nylons to enhance her golden brown legs. 

She buys her own clothes out of her trust fund, which allows her to purchase anything she wants. She knows fashion, loves to shop and has probably never looked at a price tag in her life. 

Her short thick preppy bob was in perfect shape without her doing any of the things that women do to their hair and her skin was absolutely golden. 

The thin shirt and what I am sure was an industrial strength bra, held her chest down from distracting to merely delightful. But her long incredibly beautiful dancer's legs were on full display in the short skirt. 

We took the Zodiac to the shoreline, pulling it up on the rocky beach, and walked twenty yards to the main drag, Janey putting on a pair of 5 inch heels as she went. 

Mykonos is bigger and more populated than people might think. It has an excellent harbor at the city itself, which the locals spell Mikonos. 

The city is classic Greek islands, low white washed buildings, narrow streets and funky looking windmills distributed all over the surprisingly high elevations behind the city. 

The sun and nightlife bring herds of tourists and cruise ships for a taste of the classic la dolce vita. Tonight was no different, there were large excited crowds and the booming club scene could be heard as well as seen. 

The clubs themselves line the harbor to the north east of the main town. All of them were in full swing, even though the sun was just setting. 

We had anchored in front of the town itself and the Zodiac was pulled well up on the beach just at the end of the buildings that marked the dividing line between the residential and party scene. 

We were greeted when we landed by a scruffy Greek dog who must have worked the tourist trade for all of his, no doubt, colorful life. 

As we walked to our left up the beach toward the restaurants, he immediately followed with his tail wagging slowly and expectantly, It was getting dark and we hadn't eaten so we stopped at the first taverna we saw and ate. 

The dog joined us at our table. He was some kind of mangy combination of black, grey and white. He was very long haired so it was hard to see his eyes behind his long muzzle.

He was maybe 90 pounds and he was not skinny, which was probably to be expected with a creature as capable of romancing the tourists with Greek charm as this guy was. 

He licked his chops and sat patiently eyeing me. 

I ordered him a plate of Souvlaki and rice. His kind of sang-froid deserved a reward. 

The native food was excellent as was the Retsina that we were washing it down with. With the pine resin taste that gives it its name Retsina is the wine of the working class. 

I like it because it is great super cold and it has intense taste. Janey is a lot more refined in her tastes but she was getting into the spirit of the place and so we killed a bottle before we knew it. 

The dog sat at my feet through the entire dinner. He was occasionally reminding me that he was there, in case I wanted to drop some of the baklava that I was eating. We both enjoyed desert together. 

~

Janey

Paul had been adopted by some kind of mangy hound the minute we hit the beach. I have been raised with all breeds of dogs my entire life. This one was not one my father would have allowed on our estate. 

He was big and hairy and had a kind of lower class Greek je ne sais qua that you see in their fishermen. If he had been human I am sure he would have been swilling from a bottle of Ouzo. 

We were both hungry and the taverna we stopped at was excellent. The dog seemed to be a regular there because he sauntered in like he owned the place and nobody objected. 

He then proceeded to work Paul like a Turkish rug merchant and the guy actually caved and bought the animal a human dinner. 

The two of them then proceeded to do the male bonding thing to a point where I thought they were going to break out the handkerchiefs and start dancing around like Zorba the Greek. 

I was sitting there looking sultry at him and he was ignoring me completely while he shared his baklava with a scruffy cur.

I decided it was time to dance. He could bond with his newfound friend all he wanted as long as he let me get out onto a dance floor. 

My love of dancing is well known. It is sport, sex and art all tied up in a neat little package. I can do it for hours. And the sound of the music from the club next to the Taverna was lifting me out of my seat. 

I followed its seductive trail in the door, ignoring the guy collecting admission, and immediately headed out into the middle of all of the light and sound. 

I could see Paul behind me paying. The dog sauntered past the guy at the door with a metaphoric wink and a tip of his hat and headed expectantly toward the bar. That was the last I saw of them for a long time. 

I was lost in the music. 

~

Paul

I could have sat at the taverna all night admiring the sea and nightlife but Janey was getting restless. So I put a surprisingly few Euros on the bill and we moved on. My newfound Greek friend tagged along behind me. 

We hit the first club we encountered. I am not a dancer. Janey is a marvelous, dynamic dancer. It is normal for her to just walk in the door and head straight to the middle of the floor. There she will proceed to shake her booty non-stop for four or five hours, dancing with anybody who comes near her. 

We used to have an agreement about how often we do this, since I get a whole lot less fun out of the evening than she does. But it would be cruel and unusual to prevent a free spirit like Janey's from doing what she was born to do. 

And since I love her I knew that I was looking at several nights of fending for myself. 

As she disappeared into the crowd radiating delight I settled into my normal routine which is to drink and watch people. The majority of the crowd was tourist but there were a few locals, mainly grubby looking street types. 

There were also a bevy of super-fine looking 30-somethings off of the cruise ship that was parked in the harbor. That definitely livened up the interest part. 

I was leaning against the bar watching Janey bump energetically up against a guy who could only be a lawyer. His hair gel was literally melting down his forehead. 

The dog had followed us in and nobody seemed to mind. He was presently sitting next to my bar stool panting slightly. It was hot in there. 

I ordered him a plate of some kind of squid snack and a little water. He thanked me and proceeded to work on it while I watched Janey go through a series of gyrations that were worthy of whatever hot female dancer is topping the pop charts these days. Everybody stopped to watch her. 

The 30-somethings were nice looking women but the contrast between Janey's looks and the way those girls looked meant that she was going to dominate the dance floor that night. 

One of the 30-somethings detached herself from the herd and walked rather decisively over and asked me to dance. I told her that I was such a lousy dancer I limited myself strictly to drinking but I would be happy to buy her a drink if she was so inclined and I introduced her to my Greek friend who proceeded to slobber on her as a way of greeting. 

She chose Ouzo, which spoke very well for her. When you have a woman like Janey in your life you don't check out other women in the same way you did when you were sizing up prospects for one night stands. But theoretically, if I had been looking for such an experience this woman would have been right at the top of the list. 

She was a sleek, nicely tanned blue eyed brunette, solid but slightly chunky with hair down past her shoulders in some kind of expensive cut. She had beautiful smooth skin, long legs a wide sensual mouth and a rack close to Janey's size along with very functional looking hips. 

We did the usual range-finding gambit, things like, "where are you from?", "how did you get here?" She had an ironic sense of humor mixed with a lot of sarcasm, which I found delightful. More importantly she got along well with my new buddy. 

We talked and then the three of us went outside to sit on the stone fence in front of the club. The aim was to get a little fresh air and away from all of the noise. 

It was starting to get very close and humid, with flickers of lightning in the clouds way to the north. The whole situation had the kind of look and feel that would lead an experienced sailor, which I am, to head for the first port available. 

I was fascinated to learn that the woman I was talking to was actually a long standing Atlanta cop. She said that she had worked everything from vice to homicide and that she was currently heading up a cybercrime investigation unit for the Atlanta PD. 

I made a point of not telling her my name because I wanted her to talk freely and people tend to clam up when they find out who I actually am. 

She was a striking woman and I was thinking about kissing her as we sat. A person as attractive as she was deserved some kind of recognition, even if it was just a simple kiss and grope. 

I know that that was what she wanted. She kept touching my arm and leaning into me, showing off a really magnificent pair of tits and occasionally smashing them on my arm. 

The little devil in my head was absolutely gibbering with lust. So I put my arm around her and drew her shoulders the rest of the way toward me and looked at her pretty face in the moonlight. Then we had an intense kiss. 

She moaned slightly and molded herself against me for an instant, which was all she was allowed. 

I drew back and she said very huskily, "Well, we'd better go back in and see how your wife is doing." We walked in talking while the dog followed behind, tail wagging like he knew something but wasn't going to tell anybody. 

~

Janey

Paul had disappeared. If I hadn't been dancing that would have upset me, since he was talking to an eye-poppingly attractive woman off of one of the cruise ships. And I was pretty certain they had gone outside. 

From past experience I was sure that he would at least kiss her and maybe actually make out with her for a while. 

I am willing to give Paul a long leash when I am dancing because I am aware of how sexual that gets. Every modern dance is some form of seduction, in a socially acceptable fashion of course, and I can't help turning men on when I dance with them. 

In fact the need to express myself in a quasi-sexual manner is so fundamental to my psyche that I don't realize what that might be communicating to certain types of people. 

Paul understands that this is harmless and it is never going to cross the line. But the effect that I have on men would make a lesser person insanely jealous. 

In return I am willing to tolerate him getting to know a pretty woman beyond polite conversation. That is, as long as everything is fair. 

I am willing to let him get exactly as intimate with any partner he chooses as I do with the people I am dancing with. That involves a reasonable degree of intimacy so I expect him to occasionally disappear, as he did in this case. 

That much is permitted just as long as I see him before I change partners and he does not spend his time exclusively with whoever he has chosen for that night. 




A Lifetime Romance Pt. 04



~

Paul

I looked out on the dance floor just to spot Janey. She was dancing with one of the street rats, quite a good looking guy, doing the usual dry humping that passes for dance. 

Then as she turned to present her butt to him, and keep in mind that Janey is very sexual when she dances, he decided to take it several levels about the "next" level. 

She had probably intended to rub up against him back to front. Given her endowments in her nether regions that move is designed to make her partner very hard – if you catch my drift. 

What happened instead was that the guy violently grabbed her boobs and plastered himself to her back. He lifted her and began to carry her struggling off the dance floor, like she was some sort of captive maiden who he was taking home to ravish. 

Several of his friends had been standing on the edge of the dance floor, watching the proceedings like they expected that to happen. They cheered and the entire group started en-masse toward the back door with their captive. 

I was about to break that up when Janey, who is usually not in need of rescuing, stomped on the guy's foot with one of her five inch heels. He howled, dropped her and Janey then delivered a roundhouse slap that could have been heard in Athens. 

The music stopped. The guy grabbed his face and started to come back after her. That was when half the male population of the dance floor intervened. 

Janey looked at the guy like he was the proverbial creature who had just crawled out from under a rock. Then she turned brightly to thank the ten or so guys who had ridden to her rescue. 

She grabbed the nearest guy in that group by the tie and proceeded to give him what looked like a vertical lap dance. The street rat pack retired angrily to the back of the disco. They looked like they were deciding something. 

~

Janey

Paul reappeared just as a very handsome local stepped in front of me. I looked at him seductively and began to dance in a way that would bring my ass into contact with his crotch. 

Men like the feel of my big round buns against their cocks and I like the feeling of power that I get when they begin to grow against me. That move was an extreme misjudgment on my part. 

The next thing I knew I felt a pair of very strong arms around my chest. He was holding onto my boobs like they were handles and picking me up like he was going to carry me off the floor. 

I have been in that situation before. A lot of big breasted women have. And we all know how to respond. 

I am not very tall but I was tall enough that when I stomped down, with all of the force concentrated at the tip of my 5 inch heel, I thought I could feel something break in the guy's foot. 

He howled and dropped me. I have a wicked temper, particularly when I have just been mauled, and so I hauled back 180 degrees and delivered a slap with all of my 118 pounds behind it. I saw murder in his eyes but there were at least a dozen former dance partners between him and me now. So he had to retreat rubbing his jaw. 

I chose the biggest of my rescuers and proceeded to "thank" him in a way that I am sure would have his significant other boiling. I know he was.

~

Paul

I went back to talking with my new friend. She eyed me speculatively and said, "Your wife had better watch herself. Those guys are here to prey on tourists." 

I asked her where she got that from. She told me that she that she got that from her five years working sex crimes in a major American city. 

She said that she had seen a lot of victims of gang rapes that started out exactly the same way. She said that, "Sex crimes are motivated by hatred of women, not sex and your wife just humiliated their leader. He is going to have to get some of his macho back now." 

Janey was energetically dancing with one of her other rescuers and several other very large men were lining up for the next dance. I was pretty sure none of those guys would let her off the dance floor, let alone into the clutches of the locals. I was very quickly proven wrong.

Janey eventually had to pee. I didn't see it, but she excused herself from her circle of admirers and headed for the girls room, which was up a hall in the back of the building. I had my back turned because I was buying the dog another round of squid. My new friend also had her back turned while she talked with two women who had come on the cruise with her. 

Outside it sounded like the storm that had been lurking on the horizon all day had finally arrived. There was no lightning but you could hear the thunder roll, even above the noise of the music. I thought to myself SHIT! We're going to get soaked going back to the boat. 

That was when I discovered that Janey had disappeared. It took me a while to size up the entire room but she was nowhere to be seen and believe me, she is immediately noticeable in any situation involving dancing. 

Then I saw that none of the street rats was in evidence either. I knew she wouldn't go outside the front door without passing me so I walked toward the lavatories. The dog stayed at the bar working on his appetizer. 

As I walked around the corner and into the hall I could see that there was an outside door at the end of it and it was wide open. Janey was nowhere to be seen and the last place she HAD been seen had an open door to a proverbial deluge. So nobody was having a smoke.That set off every warning bell and I went to battle stations. 

I walked toward the door and peered up the alley behind the building. There were figures moving around out there in the rain. 

It didn't take Sherlock Holmes to reconstruct the crime. They had waited until she was in the hall and then they had forced her out into the alley. 

And it was pretty clear that the only dancing that was going to go on out there was going to be a gang rape. 

The last door in the hall was the store room. In it were crates of wine. Retsina is nice to drink. But a full bottle of wine can also make an excellent club. I grabbed a bottle from the case and growled to myself, "Don't leave home without one." 

Then I ran out the door, trying to keep my imminent arrival a surprise. 

~

Janey

They attacked me as I started down the hall. They must have guessed that I would have to go to the Ladies Room sooner or later and so they were arranged on the wall on each side of the hall entrance. 

If I had thought twice I wouldn't have taken the first step into the hall but I wasn't feeling threatened and I was exhilarated from the dancing. 

I had gone two paces up the hall when I heard a whistle and two big guys were moving shoulder to shoulder up the hall toward me. There were three more behind them. I knew I was trapped. 

I could see from their eyes what they had in mind for me. I knew that turning my back on them would be lethal so I began to back slowly up the hall until my back came up against a door. I felt the handle. 

I reached behind me, quickly opened the door and bolted outside intending to slam it in their face. But the little guy on the right was too quick and he got a foot into the doorjamb before I could get it closed tight enough to get away. 

I ran a couple of steps up the alley and into another alley that teed into it. 

I was hoping they would go the other way but they must have planned that too since I was now in a blind alley with all of them blocking the only exit. 

It was raining like crazy. However, I could clearly hear the leader, the one who I had slapped, telling me in explicit terms all the ways he was going to fuck me and then how many of my holes his friends were going to fill up. 

I was terrified but I knew that I had to keep facing them or just surrender and die. Surrender is not in my makeup. 

The guy I had slapped made an uncoordinated lunge at me. I don't know what kind of girl he thought I was but that was a really fatal mistake because I caught him fully in the crotch with maximum power behind the kick. His eyes bugged and he fell over to his right, vomiting as he fell. 

The guy next to him got tangled up with his falling body and tripped. I caught him dead on the temple with one of the toes of my pointed pumps and although he didn't go completely out he was clearly not going to be a problem for a while. 

The rain was coming harder and I could see that three angry men were about to overwhelm my position. 

The most threatening guy was on my left and he growled, took a step forward and then his knee inexplicably exploded and he screamed and toppled. 

At that second I saw Paul with the fighting fury of his Viking raider ancestors written on his face, holding a broken wine bottle. 

He then turned and instantly jammed the jagged neck of the bottle into the stomach of the person in front of me. Blood spurted almost out to where I was standing and the guy shrieked, turned and ran. 

I didn't have time to savor that beautiful sight because I was winding up to kick the head off the final guy. 

He was several inches taller than I am but thanks to ballet I can leap several feet in the air. 

I pivoted and caught him with my instep right on the side of his head. His head rebounded a couple of times off a wall and the pavement and then suddenly it was only Paul and me and the rain. It was all still.

~

Paul

I could see that Janey was in big trouble up the alley. However she wasn't reacting like a single female facing five menacing guys. 

Rather than screaming in some girly fashion, or trying to run like they wanted her to, she was making a fighting retreat with her troops still in good order. 

Her eyes were like those of a western gunfighter tracking her assailants as they advanced. She has the ferocity of the Briton, the iron discipline of the Roman legions, the shrewd courage of the Norman and the calm steadfastness of the Saxon inside that little body. It was all on display here. 

Even though the odds were incredibly stacked and there was no help in sight she was Ferdinand Foch at the battle of Verdun, "Hard pressed on my right. My center is yielding, Impossible to maneuver, Situation excellent. I am attacking." Tears came into my eyes watching my wife's courageous stand. 

As I was coming up behind the line of people hemming her in I saw the guy who she had slapped make a lunge for her. Janey's right leg was a striking snake and he let loose with a very loud wet groan and toppled sideways holding himself. He was having no luck that night. 

Janey herself was instantly locked and loaded back inside her defenses, with her perfect little body coiled like a pit viper waiting for the next attacker. And the look in her eye would have matched the cold pitilessness of the snake. 

The guy who was moving to pin her arms stumbled over the first guy and also went down. She summarily kicked him in the head. Then the cavalry thundered up at full gallop. 

The obvious problem was the big thug on the right. I knew I couldn't take him in a fair fight. But I never fight fair and that was my advantage. 

I have none of Janey's valiant ancestors in my family tree. But I DO have all of the absolute ruthlessness of the German. So without hesitation I swung the wine bottle in a wide arc and smashed it onto the little knob where the MCL connects, on the outside of the knee. 

The bottle and the knee exploded simultaneously and he bellowed, screamed and fell to his right as his knee collapsed sickeningly inward. 

The guy next to him turned, startled, and got the jagged neck of the broken bottle twisted into the middle of his belly. Try to gang bang my wife will you! 

Blood gushed he screamed and ran up the alley. 

The heretofore untouched fifth guy, on the far left of the line, had stopped and was gaping at me in astonishment. 

At that instant Janey unleashed a thunderous kick to his head. It was a ninja move, but ninjas don't normally do that in a Paris dress and stylish five inch heels. His head hit the wall behind him then rebounded off of the cobblestones in the alley as he fell. 

I was seriously thinking "Geez I hope she didn't kill him?" 

The guy who had tripped over the first guy jumped up and scuttled frantically away. 

The whole thing had taken approximately 10 seconds. It was quiet now except for the screaming of the big guy and the pounding of the rain. The two guys Janey had taken down were out cold and silent. 

But she still calmly walked over and kicked each of her victims in the head just for good measure. 

I didn't need to do a damage assessment on Janey herself since she was clearly untouched. But her fighting blood was up. In fact I got the distinct feeling that my OWN manhood would be in grave jeopardy until I got her calmed down. 

She slowly came back from whatever splendid berserker frenzy she was in, looked at me with those incredibly beautiful eyes and began to cry. 

One of the things that I learned about true warriors in my time in Iraq is that they are always frightened, AFTERWARD! 

The three men were still lying at our feet. The rain had soaked both of us but I took off my coat and put it around her shoulders anyway as we made our way back up to the alley next to the club hugging each other every step of the way.

I held her against my chest as we started to walk along the "T" part of the alley behind the club. She wept and shook. We had taken three steps when she turned her face up to me and fastened her heated mouth on mine like she was going to try to swallow me. 

The rain was coming harder as she frantically undid my belt and unzipped my fly. I knew she had to wash away the image of what had almost happened. She vaulted her long dancer's legs around my waist as she inserted me into her unbelievably hot pussy. 

The contrast between her burning insides and the cold rain almost made me blow my wad right then and there. She just held me deep inside her with her strong internal muscles. Then she began to move with frantic abandon. 

I clutched her muscular hips while she bucked. I am much bigger than she is but it was all I could do to not drop her. Oddly I was also thinking that I would never have as purely a sexual experience as I was having at that moment. 

She was totally open to me on both ends; jaw fully relaxed and mouth wide open, pussy greedily milking me. The heat was incredible. It was too intense to last very long and we came together in perhaps 45 seconds. 

She was making sharp little cries as she gyrated then she began to shriek and throw herself around. I would have lost her at that point except she was holding herself to me with her muscular legs and so all I had to do was keep her gyrations from knocking us over.

~

Janey

I was truly in shock. I don't know whether it was the brutality of what had just happened or the fact that I had nearly been gang raped. But my mind was simply not processing anything but the rain and Paul's holding me. I knew that I had to have him right there and then or the whole sordid thing was going to overwhelm me and I would be lost. 

So I turned my face up and kissed him like he was the only thing keeping me sane, while I dragged what I had to have inside me out of his pants. 

As he slid up into me I could feel myself starting to heal. At first I simply had to just feel him inside me but that lit a fire that I thought was going to consume me. 

I had to burn the image of what had almost happened out of my mind by making violent love to the man who I loved. I screamed, I gyrated I bucked I acted like a total mad woman; and when I came. 

It was not sexual as much as I could feel the situation I had just faced evaporating in the love I felt for this man

~

Paul

When we finished, she slid down me to stand wordlessly in the middle of the alley. My furry Greek friend was standing there beside us now, waiting with concern written all over his face. 

We made our way down to the beached Zodiac. Since I couldn't get any wetter I walked it out into the water. I clambered over the stern preparatory to starting the outboard when I noticed that there were two shapes instead of one inside the boat. 

Zeus, as I decided to call him, was sitting impatiently in the bow looking back at me clearly saying, "I'm wet mon-ami, how about us getting going?" 

I didn't know whether he was somebody's beloved pet or what the situation was and I was already 50 feet from shore but I tried to shoo him off. He laughed in my face, doggy style. 

Janey was a lump in the middle of the boat. I navigated the Zodiac out to where we were anchored. 

Zeus hopped on board like he had been on ships all his life. Maybe he had been? I helped Janey, who was crying pitifully again over the side, tied up the Zodiac and joined her. 

I carefully undressed her in the cabin as she cried. I got the wooliest towel we had and dried her off lovingly. I wrapped her in the gun-metal grey cashmere robe that she had bought for beachwear and I brought her a strong brandy in a snifter. 

Her sobbing had died down to little whimpers. I got out of my soaked clothes and dried myself off. Zeus was rummaging around the galley. I put on my robe and joined her. 

She was lying back on the bed with her feet towards the floor. I slid up next to her on my side and looked down at her.

"That was pretty scary", she said. I nodded. 

She said, "I thought they were going to rape me." I mustered the most sympathetic look I could muster, while thinking "men are pigs." 

Then she suddenly turned toward me, threw her arms around my neck and clung, fresh tears wetting the front of my robe. I didn't know what would comfort her so I just held her. I knew that she was a strong minded woman and that she would work her way through this. 

Pretty soon the crying stopped and I stared hearing little sighs, which got progressively louder until it was obvious that what I was hearing was very aroused breathing. 

She slid a little further up and fastened her hot mouth on me. We had fucked in the alley for the very same reason but it felt like she needed to put a closure on things in the place where she felt the safest and with the man she loved. 

Her robe had fallen open as she slid up to me and she desperately pulled mine open as she rolled me over on top of her. I was obviously engaged in the process but this was going to be her healing fuck so I let her choreograph the dance. 

She slipped me inside her elevated her legs and began circling her hips in a way that didn't feel sexual as much as it felt like she was trying to grind something out of herself. 

She was moaning louder and louder. Then she was screaming almost shrieking. Her insides were in turmoil and boiling hot. Then she came with an unearthly screech. 

I hadn't really even begun to get started, let alone worked myself up to cum. She pushed violently out from under me, disengaged from my arms and lay there looking like a total crazy woman. Then she burst into hysterical tears. 

I pulled her back in and held her like I was never going to let her go, which in fact just happens to be the case. 

~

Janey

I was close to unconscious all of the way back to the boat. I remember Paul loading me in the Zodiac and I could feel him tugging it off the shore and clambering over the side. All I could do was weep for lost innocence. 

He helped me over the transom and into the cabin. I was not processing any aspect of the situation. 

My soul was crushed. 

He gently undressed me, dried me off an wrapped me in a robe. The love and concern in his eyes was all that was keeping me from exploding into a thousand little pieces. He handed me a brandy and I drank it in one gulp. It began to warm my insides. 

He lay down on the bed next to me in his robe and I just couldn't stand it anymore. I had to cry it out of me. He held me gently pouring his strength into me. I could feel his masculine energy, his confidence and his total capability as a man. It was replacing the desolation of that alley. 




A Lifetime Romance Pt. 04



I had an insane need to have him inside me again. Normally I am in control of myself when I make love but as soon as I had rolled him on top of me I lost all track of reality. I was in some other world where if I could just fuck him enough I would be well again. 

My coming was something I sensed, but didn't feel. What I felt instead was that I had returned to whole and that my love for him was more than I could handle. I thrust myself out from under him and bawled like an infant. He picked me up in his arms again and I could feel I was reborn into a world of love and security.

~

Paul

She finally stopped crying and I could see that the old Janey had returned. It was like the sun coming out after a force five hurricane had passed. 

Being a simple minded male I will never understand what goes on in the labyrinth that is the female mind. But it looked like she had wrestled the whole experience into some mental cage, locked it up and kicked it into the depths of the Atlantic. Now having done that, she was ready to move on. 

She also looked a little shamefaced and said, "But you didn't even cum!" I told her in no uncertain terms that coming was the last thing I was worried about. I just wanted my wife back. 

She looked amused slapped my arm and said, "You get enough anyhow." 

I was thrilled to see that the old spunky Janey had made her re-appearance. 

The dog chose that moment to come out of the galley metaphorically picking his teeth. I went in to find the place sacked. 

Janey had been in her own personal hell on the trip out to the boat and had actually never noticed we had a stowaway. I introduced the two and told her that I had decided to name him Zeus. 

She told me that I had better get him flea dipped at the next port of call or she was going to keel-haul both of us. 

I was overjoyed. I assumed that that meant I could keep him.

~

Janey

I could feel Janey Alden making herself comfortable back in my skin. I opened my eyes and he was looking at me like I had somehow transformed into another person right in front of him, which I basically had done. 

My little voice then reminded me, "Ummmm honey, he didn't come." 

I was totally embarrassed that I could ever be that greedy. He told me in no uncertain terms that he was happy I was back. I told him that I would make it up to him over several lifetimes. We were happy again and in love. 

And then the mutt wandered in. I am aware of the fact that men are little boys and little boys need dogs but I never expected him to actually adopt that creature. 

Paul said, "He adopted us. I couldn't get him out of the boat." 

The dog looked noncommittal. There were crumbs and fragments of meat all over his muzzle and a rope of drool was hanging out of the left corner of his mouth. 

I said, "I don't want to catch something from that mangy cur." 

Paul promised that he would have him seen to at the next port of call. I gave up the struggle. 

That is until I got out to the galley and saw what that animal had done in there. 

We had some more words and Paul promised to make him behave. I mentioned keel-hauling and something about burial at sea involving two sacks if he didn't. 

He looked delighted that I was going to let him keep his dog. I will never understand men as long as I live.

~

Paul 

My guess was that the authorities would probably not mind that the two of us had just hauled some of the local trash. But I wasn't absolutely certain we hadn't killed a couple of them. And there had certainly been some serious injuries. Plus we now had a refugee on board. 

So I immediately untied and headed under motor out into the middle of the harbor in preparation for sailing as early as possible the next day. 

I was thinking to myself that we had fled town in two places now, because Janey had roughed up some of the locals. I decided that having a tough street-fighter like Janey on board would probably keep me and Zeus safe for the rest of our travels.



A Lifetime Romance Pt. 05



This is the next Chapter . In the years that I have lived with these characters I have come to like them a lot and it is almost as if they are real to me. This Chapter introduces two of them. The dog is an important part of the next two books and the baby will grow up to have her own series. But she makes her appearance, or more correctly stated is MADE, here. I hope you enjoy these people's lives as much as I have. enjoyed writing about them. Plenty of sex in this one for those of you who have been asking for it. And as usual thanks for your readership.

~

Paul

The next morning we set course north by east out of Mykonos heading across the Aegean toward Canakkale Turkey and the Sea of Marmara. It was just past dawn and as I suspected, there were no Greek police boats in hot pursuit. 

I wanted to make landfall in Istanbul because I had a couple of important appointments to keep. 

The key stop on the to-do list was the secret appointment that I had made for Janey at the Anadolu Medical Center in Istanbul. The other was with a veterinary clinic that my people had found for me near the Kalamis Marina in Istanbul. We were scheduled to dock there. 

The travel distance is around 700 kilometers and at our rate of progress under sail it looked like it was going to be about a three or four day trip. 

The storm of the night before was long gone and the Mediterranean was back to being hot and absolutely copper in the sun. 

I was steering under motor because Janey hadn't gotten up yet to help me set the sails. And my new buddy Zeus was lounging insouciantly at my feet looking as if he had been a member of the crew since the day the boat was launched. 

If he had ever been groomed in his life it wasn't evident. He appeared and was colored exactly like a Bouvier des Flandres. Maybe he actually was? I knew that Bouvs are the French version of a war dog and the equal of German Dobermans and Alsatians for toughness, but bigger and burlier with that long hair as a form of body armor. 

Looking at him sprawled totally relaxed on the deck next to me with a rope of drool hanging off his lower lip like a metaphoric Gauloises I was thinking maybe we'd added a Gallic soldier of fortune to our gang, perhaps a former member of La Legion Etrangere. 

Zeus was examining the cockpit of the Bordeaux like he was trying to memorize all of the places that he could slope off to if he needed to take a dump. 

Having a dog on board a boat is not as simple as it sounds since they DO have to do their business and they are not really suited for the head. 

We had a little discussion involving some cut up pieces of canvas that I had laid out in a flat pan near the transom and I explained to him what Janey would do to both of us if he missed by even a millimeter. 

They say that Bouvs are among the most intelligent of the dog breeds and this guy seemed to immediately get what the rules were, even though he clearly indicated that he thought that we were impinging on his inalienable right to be a dog.

I recalled last night. My valiant little wife and lover had single handedly faced down five very dangerous men and personally laid two of them out. During the incident she had not wavered, or flinched. 

I am over a foot taller and 120 pounds heavier and I would have been terrified in that situation. Yet she faced them with all of the bravery and determination of her fighting spirit. And she didn't show the slightest fear until we were toting up the body count afterward. It was a magnificent display of courage. 

Her unusual bravery and grace under the intense pressure of that situation inspired me to put the finishing touches on my plan. But I needed to get to Istanbul in order to carry it out. 

I had gotten the mainsail up once we were in the open ocean and we were laid over on a starboard tack of about 10 degrees under light winds and tight on the rhumb line. That was when Janey made her appearance. 

She is the most feline woman I have ever known, so catlike that you would almost expect her to chase a ball of yarn across the deck if you dropped one. One of those cat characteristics is that she prowls late and sleeps in. 

She is also like a cat in that she is instantly aware of her surroundings when she wakes up. So there was no drowsiness evident when she cracked the cabin door with two big heavy mugs of coffee in her hand. 

She was wearing one of the white short shorts outfits that she seems to have in endless variety. With legs like hers short shorts are a service to mankind. They were topped off by a pink Izod shirt that set off her magnificently golden body. 

I was awestruck by her beauty. 

It is something that mathematicians call the "golden proportion", or Phi, which is an ideal ratio used as an empirical measure of perfection. The facial features of beautiful women throughout time have always been judged based on how well they fit this ratio. 

Janey's facial features are spot-on that golden ratio and the normal atavistic reaction to that kind of faultlessness is, "Wow!" 

Then when you add the intelligence and human warmth that radiates from that face you have a visage that you can never get tired of looking at. 

At the moment however that particular countenance was looking at me like she wanted to put me in a small boat without food or water, and THEN throw in my dog. 

I looked instinctively down at my new buddy who was looking at her like "WHAT??!!" 

She said, "I thought I DREAMED that you brought that mangy mutt on board." 

I said, "But he is a Soldier of Fortune and a former member of the French Foreign Legion to boot." 

She said, "He is a smelly mangy cur who had better not disgrace himself on my deck or I will use his skinned pelt to mop it up." 

I meekly said, "But I thought you liked dogs?" 

She said, "Dogs yes, not some raffish canine escapee from the Mykonos club scene." 

I said, "Didn't you ever see Lady and the Tramp." 

She came over and laid an open mouthed kiss on me and that made me forget what we were even talking about. All of that while not touching me with anything but her lips, or spilling her coffee. 

She said quite seriously, "You saved me last night." 

I said, "I did no such thing. I had no idea that patrician America could produce such a bad-ass." 

She laughed and hit me spilling MY coffee. 

She said, "Where are we going?" 

I said, "Istanbul." 

She said, "Excuse me!!??" 

I said, "It is a place of infinite rich history. You'll love it. It was Greek for almost as long as it was Roman and Byzantine for longer than it has been Turk. 

"Most of the world's religions have some connection with the place and it is a very sophisticated and vibrant culture. You could spend years just looking at all of the magnificent historical things that those people created while your ancestors were running around in blue paint and animal skins." 

She pointed out to me that my people had spent a whole lot more time doing that then hers.

I didn't tell her what my real reason was because I needed to make a statement to her. 

After five years of marriage I can read my wife and there were clearly some serious issues eating at her spirit that I wanted to act on. I just didn't want to spend the next four or so days locked in a debate about it. 

So I changed the subject. "Didn't you make me promise to get him flea dipped and groomed? I have a vet's appointment as soon as we get into port and my people have already booked us into the Wyndham Istanbul." 

That seemed to satisfy her because she ambled forward into the galley with Zeus following expectantly in her wake. 

I anticipated that she would throw his dead body back out as soon as she discovered that he was trying to poach breakfast. 

But when I came in after setting the auto-sailor he was perched on the galley bench next to her while she fed him strips of the bacon that she had just cooked. Never underestimate Gallic charm.

~

Janey

I awoke by myself lying face down in our bed forward in the boat and wrapped in the covers. The sun was streaming through the overhead and the storm of the night before was gone. 

I stretched luxuriantly and rolled over onto my back. I was thinking about what had happened the night before and how Paul had saved me from certain soul crushing violation. 

I was going to go down fighting but there were far too many of them and they wanted to hurt and humiliate me in as totally violent a manner as possible. 

I remember my last feelings of despair, before that magnificent man arrived on the scene and I especially remembered the murderous look in his eyes. 

He has told me about his hard early life and the anger that he has as a result of it. And without getting into too much detail he has alluded to the fact that he has killed many men during his military service. 

He said that he keeps the ruthless side of his personality locked down but he says that it will make an appearance once in a while like the Mighty Hulk if I am ever threatened; which is kind of like being protected by a Rottweiler, both reassuring and also a little disturbing.

I fucked him thoroughly last night. But that was for my own purposes and I felt like I owed him something special in that respect, just for him. 

The idea of an extended night of passion was appealing. But I was also aware that I had been off my Depo-Provera for almost two months and we had not yet talked about the baby I wanted so badly. 

Simply put I was ready for motherhood in the fiercest sort of way. Women know what I am talking about and a man can never understand, but I had just turned 29 and I felt like I was getting late in my life for my first child. 

I know that I am stronger physically than any woman in her teens but the risk of birth defects and other problems increases over time and I didn't want to wait any longer. 

I had not told Paul about this yet and I was planning on raising it as soon as I got my period, which would happen for the first time in almost 15 years. 

In the meantime there was coffee to make and a man to take care of, so I dressed, and brought two heavy cups of very dark coffee out on deck. And there he was fooling with the tiller while that mangy beast was lying at his feet plotting some new kind of mischief.

I had forgotten about THE DOG!!! We had a couple of words about the creature and Paul once again assured me that I had no need to worry. 

The dog was certainly a raffish looking fellow and if a dog could smile suavely at me this one was doing it. 

We discussed the night before and I went in to make breakfast. The dog sat politely behind me only occasionally licking his chops. 

I thought to myself, "Oh well, love me – love my dog" and offered him a piece of bacon. 

He bowed gallantly, with a Gallic twinkle in his eye, metaphorically kissed my hand while looking genteelly into my eyes and said in Greek accented French, "Merci ma belle."

~   

Paul

The weather held up beautifully, hot and sunny with a robust easterly breeze and so two days later we slid around west of Mytilene island and made landfall that evening at Seddulbahir Village on the Gallipoli side. 

We anchored off-shore in the little bay east of that place and found something to eat at a picturesque little restaurant in the village. 

Any student of World War One knows that Gallipoli is a dark place. It was where the pride of Australia and New Zealand was slaughtered in a hopelessly mismanaged attempt by the British to open up a new front in the war. Winston Churchill lost his job over it and the Titanic's sister ship Britannic was torpedoed and sunk carrying casualties from it. And modern secular Turkey was formed out of the old Ottoman Empire as a result of it. 

One hundred years later we coasted under engine power up through the Dardanelles past Canakkale and around the sharp point just east of there. 

That is the narrowest place in the Dardanelles and it was the area where the British and French fleets attempted to force the straits at the beginning of the campaign and lost a number of warships. It was all quiet farmland now, brown and green in the bright morning sun. 

We anchored at Gallipoli itself that night. I was a little hesitant leaving the boat anchored where it was, just off the town. But Zeus told us, "Go into town Mon Ami and I will watch the boat. Just bring a little something back for Zeus." 

Leaving 90 pounds of French war dog on board allayed any fears I might have had about being ripped off at anchor, but the fact that I was interacting with my dog in French accented English was a little disturbing. 

We ate at a place that is generally considered to be the best sea food restaurant in the town. Looking down from the restaurant deck at the fish swimming around underneath me I could see why it had a reputation for the "freshness" of its catch. Zeus appreciated the take out'.

We left at sunrise for the trip across the Sea of Marmara on a bearing a little north of east toward the passage between Ekinlik and Avsa islands and then south of Marmara and on a direct easterly heading to Istanbul. 

The breeze held easterly and we were under sail making very good time all of the way. Janey was pensive. I knew that something had been bothering her since last spring in England and I even knew what it was. My response was the main reason we were sailing into the Golden Horn as evening began to replace bright sunny day.

~

Janey

I had to admit that the dog had his uses. When I looked at him with a slightly less jaundiced eye I could see that underneath all of that mangy fur he was a big tough competent creature, somewhat like Paul but a tad less impulsive. 

I have always been uneasy about leaving the boat unattended when we went on shore. Now that the dog was with us I felt completely at ease, since those long sharp canines were a lot better surety than a "No Trespassing" sign. 

He also slept in the galley next to the door to the cockpit, which guaranteed that nobody would sneak up on us in the middle of the night. He still smelled but Paul had told me that he had a special grooming appointment set up for him when we docked. 

It seemed strange that we would go all of the way to Istanbul to do that but Paul has his quirks. As we made our way across one of the busiest nautical thoroughfares in the world I couldn't help but marvel at the history. 

You can slice the history of Byzantium/Constantinople/Istanbul into three parts. For 900 years it was Greek. Then it was the seat of the Roman Byzantine Empire for another eleven hundred years until the Turks conquered it in 1400. 

Almost every aspect of modern religion has some association with the place. That includes Constantine himself, the emperor who founded Christianity in the Roman Empire and who the city was named after for a thousand years. 

The prominence of the place comes from the fact that it spans two continents, Europe and Asia and it controls the narrow Bosporus Strait, which is the only sea route from the Black Sea and central Asia to the Mediterranean and the Atlantic. 

As we pulled in under motor at the Kalamis Marina the old part of the City was spread out to our left in front of us. I could see the dome of the Hagia Sophia, one of the most iconic buildings in history, gleaming in the distance and also the Topkapi palace. 

I was thinking about the millions of people who had lived or passed through that beautiful place in the 2,700 years since it was founded and I was suddenly very aware of my own mortality. 

I have been on this earth for 29 years and in that time I have tried to be all that I can be as a person. I have been the lover and companion of a fabulous man but I felt like there was something I had left to do for both him and me that would complete us. That was to have a child. 

The need for a baby was getting to be almost more than I could bear. So I knew that I would have to raise the prospect with Paul in a very short time going forward. 

In many respects we had an ideal life together as a couple without adding a little person so I was very afraid of his reaction.

~

Paul

We docked at Kalamis and I had some people remove our things to the Wyndham. That included Zeus. 

The main thing that separates a four star from a five star is the excellence of its service and although the Wyndham did not normally have guests as disreputable as Zeus, the 900 Euros a night I was paying and the generous "gift" bought us an indulgence. 

I had made an appointment for him by sat phone at the Vet Center in the Beyoglu quarter of the city and since the Bentley, which I had had driven over from Italy, was waiting for us at the hotel and the Vet Center was relatively nearby I loaded all three of us in straightaway and dropped him off at the place. 

I wanted them to take a full day to thoroughly health inspect treat and groom the old guy. 

Nonetheless the look of outraged betrayal and Gallic resignation I got as they led him back to his fate was priceless.

Janey and I had the evening to kill in one of the most romantic cities in the world but we had to change from our boat togs into something more appropriate so we drove back to the Wyndham as the sun set on the Golden Horn. 

I had booked a reservation for 8:00 at the Iskele which was an easy drive. The main attraction was its location which was literally jutting out into the Bosporus. We had three hours to kill and so we were taking our time getting ready. 

Janey was wandering around the suite in a black bra and thong combination that was designed to catch my interest. So I grabbed her and kissed her. But I could feel some reluctance in the distracted way she molded her body to mine that usually only manifests itself when she is thinking about something serious. 

Given the fact that she had a doctor's appointment scheduled for early the next morning, which she still didn't know about, I was in a serious mood too. So I decided to forego the late afternoon fuck. 

We had not made love since five days earlier in Mykonos and that sort of layoff is exceptional for both of us, but I had other plans and she was not pressing me for sex, so she must have had something else going on in her head as well.

The restaurant was everything the reviews said it would be. Janey was dressed in a simple black Jovani evening-out dress with a very modest neckline. 

In many ways she can't lose with the splendid rack that she has. If the dress is low cut it shows off her deep full cleavage and if it fits around the neck, as this one did, the bountiful swell of those huge firm beasts can stop traffic. 

Ogling her, the maître d' was tripping over himself to seat us in one of the strait side tables and the glow of the city reflected in the ancient water of the Bosporus was almost as breathtaking as looking at her beloved face across the table. 

We had a little wine to get the dinner started but I had serious things to discuss with her.

I opened the conversation by saying, "Can I talk to you about something that I have been thinking about for some time?" 

She actually looked a little concerned and said, "Certainly." 

I looked as steadily and sincerely as possible into those uncanny hazel eyes and I said, "I have taken steps to do something. I don't actually know how you will feel about it so I want you to know that there is no commitment on your part. It is just important to me and I hope you will be willing to do it for me." 

She began to look puzzled and more than a little concerned. 

I said as gently and cautiously as possible, "We are really here because I have arranged for you to get a full obstetric examination tomorrow, at the best medical center in this entire region. I am doing that because I want to have all of the facts in preparation for discussing our desire to have a baby." 




A Lifetime Romance Pt. 05



I thought she would be mad at me, which shows you what the average male knows about the female of the species. She lit up like a million candle power searchlight and you could see every care she had ever had evaporate from her beautiful face. 

For an answer, she bounced to her feet stepped around the table, reached down, took my surprised face between her beautiful little hands and kissed me like she was going to start crying. 

Most of the rest of the room watched that with wonder. I suppose they all thought I had just proposed, which I had in a way.    

~

Janey

Paul has excellent taste in hotels and the Wyndham met all of my needs for romance in a romantic city. The dog was something of a hedge against the romance part but I had actually gotten around to the point where I was beginning to appreciate the old scoundrel. 

Paul had clearly planned this because his Bentley was waiting for us. He has people in the U.S. who are solely devoted to taking care of our needs and I was sure he arranged all of this through them. 

We immediately drove his hound over to the Vet Center and dropped him off for an overnight stay. The aim was to turn him into a more presentable version of his flamboyant self. 

However, the look of sheer horror that he shot both of us as the staff led him into the back of the establishment appeared more like he thought that he was Sidney Carton being led to the guillotine. 

We went back to the hotel to shower and change and he said he had reservations at a place I would love. It turned out to be right on the water. I had just spent the better part of four months on a boat. So THAT was no particular thrill. But I appreciated the thought. 

He had tried to start something in the hotel but I was too eaten up by anxiety to respond like I normally do. I had to have a discussion with him but I didn't know how to bring up the topic. So I was sitting at our table looking across at his ruggedly handsome face trying to forget what I really wanted to talk about. 

That was when he looked me very sincerely in the eye and told me that HE had something that HE wanted to talk about. 

I assumed at first that he just wanted to tell me about the next off the wall place we would be sailing to after he got his dog back from the spa. But he said that he had something he wanted ME to do for him the next day and by the tone of his voice I could tell it didn't involve a flea dip. 

Anxiety shot through me like a lightning strike. We always do things together and this did not sound like good news. So I waited with alarm bells going off everywhere in my head. The little lady up there said very emphatically, "This couldn't be good dearie." 

Then he started to talk. He told me that he had set up an OB appointment for me and he wanted me to go to it because he was gathering all of the information we would need to start the process of having a child together. 

I couldn't believe my ears. I had been torturing myself trying to figure out how to break the news to him that I wanted a baby and he had not only decided the same thing but had actually laid all of the groundwork to make it happen. 

I had two immediate thoughts. The first and most unimportant one was, "No wonder this man is a captain of industry." The other one was about me dancing wildly around the room yelling at the top of my lungs, "I love this guy!!!" 

The little lady did a boogey that made me worry she would break a hip and finished it off by doing the splits right there in my head.  

~

Paul

She wanted me to fuck her as soon as we got back. In fact she made her first moves in the Bentley, which had me standing at attention in an embarrassing sort of way when I dropped the car off to the valet. 

But if things went as planned I was saving it all up for later deposit and so for the first and probably only time in our life I sent her to bed without satisfying her. 

She was really hurt so I had to tell her a little bit more about my plans. I told her I had something for after her appointment, assuming we got good news. And that I wanted that to be special. 

So we fell into bed with her naked little body pressed tightly against mine. I chewed on my pillow for several hours and then mercifully fell asleep.

We drove over to the Medical Center the next morning. My people chose Anadolu after considerable research on the topic of female reproduction. 

I had no concerns about Janey and her health and by her attitude I could tell that she thought an Ob/Gyn appointment was silly. But she had had her reproductive systems off-line for a long time and they are complex. So I wanted to get respected professional opinion about the situation as we started them back up. 

The appointment was early and Janey is not a morning person but there was an admittedly adolescent male grand gesture that I had planned if the results were as I suspected they would be and I needed time. 

She was dressed in an outfit that I had first seen her in back before we actually got together, very tight jeans and a red scooped top that showed off her magnificent breasts. She said that it was her good luck charm since she was wearing it the day she realized I was interested in her. 

Without her really trying, that beautiful body in that outfit would also melt a stone idol.

The doctor who did the consult was a Turk. He had been chosen and fully briefed by my medical people back in the States. His accent was full-out Oxford Don without any attempt on his part to put on that air. My people told me he was world-class. 

It was also clear that he didn't consult on these kinds of simple cases but money can be very persuasive. I was not present during the actual examination of course. No self-respecting male would ever want to do that. But I was allowed to discuss the results with him and Janey. 

He had done the extra blood work to check that the hormone levels were properly balanced to conceive and that her female equipment was in good working order. 

Everything in his mind was perfect for the task ahead. He said that he had never examined a woman as uncannily fit for childbirth as Janey. Logically all of the structures that make her so sexily attractive to men are also critical to childbearing. 

He said that based on his medical observations and the results of the tests he was certain that Janey was fully ready to conceive and carry a child to term. We both thanked him profusely and I made a mental note to have my people thank him in more concrete ways and we exited the Center at exactly 10:00 in the morning that bright sunny day.

~     

Janey

The little lady in my head couldn't stop shaking up the bottles of Champaign and delightedly spraying them over everybody. And the only thing I could think about during dinner was how elaborately and extensively I was going to fuck Paul that night. 

I don't care what the male of the species tells you. Unless the guy is a totally irresponsible hound, who plans on no involvement with raising the child, it is very difficult for men to sacrifice their precious "freedom" to the next generation. 

And with Paul's lack of parental models and forlorn childhood I would have perfectly understood if he had never wanted children. 

The fact that he was going to a ridiculous extreme to show me that he supported me in my need to do this was beyond precious to me. 

So I was really concerned when, for the first time ever, he did not respond to my advances. I unzipped his pants and dragged his cock out as soon as we had cleared the parking lot of the restaurant and played with him with my hands and mouth until he was fully erect. 

It was lucky it was late enough in the evening that he didn't kill us both with distracted driving. But he pushed me away before we reached the valet station of the hotel, which was understandable given that we had to go up to the room. 

However, as soon as we reached the room I smashed him against the wall wrapped my legs around his waist and went back to kissing him passionately. He gently unwound me and told me with a tone of voice that indicated that he was pretty-much at his wits end himself, that he just wanted to go to bed that night. 

I was crushed and I showed it. He explained that there was something he wanted to do that was part of tomorrow's happening. He said that he knew it was symbolic but that it was important to him to make the gesture. 

I had to take an Ambien to sleep that night and I hoped he was suffering as much as I was.

He rousted me out at some ungodly hour in the morning. I fixed myself up and put on my lucky outfit, the one I was poured into the night that I first saw him sitting at the Tavern. 

The doctor and the interview were the usual Ob/Gyn experience. It's something that every woman in the world wishes she could avoid. The doctor did a little extra blood work at the suggestion of some medical expert that Paul had hired back in the States. 

The consult afterward was the kind of good news that I expected. I know I am extremely healthy and I know that these huge tits and hips are meant for a task greater than making men drool, so I was not surprised that the examination found me fertile and ready to be plowed.

~

Paul

Janey was radiant as we got back in the Bentley and I headed for the Bostanc docks which were about a 20 minute drive across town from the medical center. 

It is hard to explain the feeling a man gets when the woman who you love transitions from lover to the person who will bear and raise your children. 

I have always known that Janey's looks made her a trophy and that her intelligence and wisdom were exceptional. I have also known that her unabashed sexuality is a true gift. 

But I am also well aware that in many respects we are closely matched in all of those characteristics. 

What I had not thought of was the fact that only SHE could create the next generation for us. That realization touched something both profound and fundamentally sexual in my lizard brain and I had to act on it. 

Fortunately I had already made plans for a gesture that I hoped was grand enough to communicate how important this understanding of her new role in our relationship was to me. 

I got the idea from seeing her gallant defense of herself in the alley in Mykonos. There was something almost classically heroic in the way that little woman made her fighting stand. That image reminded me that the Trojan War had taken place in this neck of the woods. And it was the Iliad that had spawned everybody's ideas about heroism. 

So I decided that our first foray into baby making ought to be in the very spot immortalized by Homer, Troy that is. 

I know that going to the trouble that I was going through in order to fuck her for the first time for baby making purposes sounds like wretched excess and silly to boot. But I wanted to make it clear to my wife in no uncertain terms that I would be committed to her and our child forever. 

Plus my adolescent boy self knew that it would absolutely blow her mind. 

I had booked us and the Bentley on the Bandirma fast ferry and from there on to Canakkale for the night. Before we left for the medical center I had had the concierge staff at the Wyndham pack an overnight bag for both of us and load it in the Bentley. 

I had asked Janey to pick an outfit for a romantic picnic and what she came up with was like something out of a Jane Austen novel. It was pale linen with an empire waist that made her tits look like works of art, yet still showcasing her extraordinary legs. 

The total trip was supposed to be four hours and we were booked into the Kolin in Canakkale, which is a true five star, for the night. With the usual delays we rolled in there at 3 in the afternoon. 

Janey was tired so I told her to take a nap while I made some final arrangements. The arrangements included securing a full picnic supper from the excellent kitchen at the Kolin. 

It was packed in a classic English hamper complete with a huge white linen table cloth and napkins and a St. Estephe, Vin Delimite de Qualite Superieure Medoc. 

I woke her at 4:30 to get ready for the half hour drive to Troias. She knew we were going on a special late afternoon picnic and between the way the dress accentuated her curves, her minimally made up face and her perfect glowing health I had never seen her more vital and eager. 

She was not exactly certain why I was going to all of the trouble, or exactly where we were going but besides being the world's greatest lover she is game for anything and she trusts me. So she rode along looking at the passing countryside with interest. 

I told her that the mountain that she could just see way to the southwest was Mt. Ida, which was where the gods supposedly sat and watched the fall of Troy. 

She was suddenly very interested in her surroundings, because she is probably the only person in the modern world who has ever actually read the entire Iliad cover to cover and enjoyed it. 

It was getting toward 6:00. I had provided a serious "gift" to the local Turkish administrator to clear off the tourists and give me exclusive access to the site. 

I had also made a significant donation to the University that was conducting the dig at Troy VII to do two things. 

First I wanted all of them to get lost at exactly 5:30 and second I wanted them to keep the large canopy that they had pitched over the dig site of their most recent work up for the night. 

We drove into the park at Troias and Janey looked at me questioningly. I told her that we were at the sight of Homer's Troy and that we had permission to have a private picnic in the dig site all by ourselves. 

She is a very intelligent woman with a much deeper sense of history than any person I know, so the look of sheer wonder that crossed her beautiful face made all of the effort and money I had spent completely worthwhile.

~

Janey

I was stunned. The little voice in my head was marveling over and over to herself, "TROY, this is TROY!!??" Paul was sitting there with a wolfish grin looking pleased as punch. I was flabbergasted. 

I had first read the Iliad when I was eight and I spent years imagining myself as Helen, the most beautiful woman of ancient times, daughter of Zeus, sister of Castor and Pollex and wife of Menelaus. 

It was her running away from Sparta with her lover Paris that brought on the Trojan War. And I was sitting at that very place. I was overcome by the wonder of it and by the generosity of Paul's gesture. 

But where were all of the people? 

Paul laughed merrily at that. He said, "I made a minor contribution to the advancement of archaeological research for all of them to take the rest of the day off." 

He said with an expansive gesture, "The place is all ours." 

I am not sure he fully understood what that implied, because if the place was all HIS, then he was now the modern equivalent of King Priam. Fitting!

He took my arm and said the university people have a ground shelter in this direction so let's set up our picnic over there. 

He led me up a slight incline, mysterious ruins sticking out of the ground and inexplicable structures that were revealed by trenches. 

We went around an ancient standing wall and I saw a large white canopy shading what was obviously a working archaeological site. I was stupefied. 

He was no surer of where we were going than I was but we picked our way under the canopy and down a wide inclined trench into an almost fully excavated fifteen by fifteen foot square of ancient blocks, piled perhaps four, or five feet high. 

It was roofless of course and one wall was entirely down. 

With the canopy shading us from the still hot Anatolian sun it was cool and very earthy smelling. 

Then I saw the scorch marks. The walls on two sides had ancient soot on them as if there had been a huge all-consuming fire in the room. Paul seemed to be in as much awe as I was. 

This structure was part of Troy Seven A. The layer that most scholars believe is the Troy of the Iliad. And what we were seeing were signs of the destruction of the place! This was authentic! 

I was unable to move or speak. I just stood there thinking, I might be standing in the very room where Helen herself lived!" 

While I stood and gaped, Paul spread the table cloth on the floor. I sat on it still in wonder and then looked at him for the first time. He was looking strangely at me. Then he began to talk.

~

Paul

She was in a trance. I got everything arranged and sort of guided her to sit on the table cloth next to me. She sat with her usual feline grace. Her dress was a pale blue, made of light linen with a scoop neck and a little gold chain that I had given her resting on the extreme swell of her breasts. 

With the dress contrasting with her golden skin she looked like a passable copy of Helen herself. I decided that "Janey of Troy" was probably an appropriate description. 

I asked her, "Do you know why we are here?" 

She said eagerly, "Because you knew how much this would thrill me." 

I said, "Yes but this is symbolic of something else. I was so struck by your heroism back in Mykonos that I want to make our child in a place that is appropriate to your courageous soul." 

Her expressive hazel eyes misted. 

I said, "This might not be the place where it actually happens but I want this ancient place to be a symbol of how enduring my love is for you and how touched, and I might add totally turned on, I am by what we are about to do." 

She looked at me with her eyes shining and said, "And what might THAT be sailor?" 

I reached over and pulled her to me. I said, "There is nobody within three miles of this spot in case you want to know." 

She said huskily and very emphatically, "Too bad. I want to put on a show that has not been seen inside these walls in 3,200 years and the baby I will produce for you will be somebody of legend." 

Then she opened her beautiful, sensual mouth for the most loving and passionate kiss she has ever given me. 

~

Janey

I love the man. I will always love the man. But sometimes he promotes himself to godlike status. It is hard for me to believe that such a strong and in some ways brutally effective and competent man can be so sweet and sensitive. 

There had been no change in our relationship except we had finally agreed that the sex would be for something more than our own personal enjoyment. It didn't mean that I wouldn't fuck him on demand for any other reason than the fun of it. It just meant that we were working toward another, much more profound goal now. 

It might have been the long layoff, or the fact that we had not fucked the night before, but I was wild for him. We were both lying on our sides acing each other; supported by our left and right arm respectively. 

I heard myself panting softly. I reached over put my hand behind his head, pulled him to me and kissed him with all of the love and passion I could muster. The emotion was too much and I moaned loudly.

He laid me down gently on my back and looked into my eyes like he was doing a Vulcan mind meld. I looked just as deeply back at him panting loudly now. My arms were at my sides, fists in a ball. 

He was still supporting himself on his left arm and with his right hand he began lightly caressing my temples and the side of my head around my ears. I was looking at him with pure lust. 

He sat me up and unzipped the dress at the back. I shed it to my waist while unsnapping my bra and dropping it on the tablecloth next to me. 

He shed his shirt and we were both naked to the waist. 

He lay me back down and kissed me tenderly on my lips. I responded eagerly but he was acting like this was more of a religious ceremony than a fuck. I understood what he was thinking since I was thinking the same thing. We were doing this for another reason. 




A Lifetime Romance Pt. 05



He began to explore my heavy breasts like he was seeing them in a different light. They were swollen and huge with all of the hot blood pumping through them. He lightly caressed my nipples which caused them to stiffen painfully. Then he gave each a gentle kiss. That sensation almost drove me over the edge. 

I was moaning quietly now in accompaniment with my panting. He pushed the rest of my dress and my panties off over my hips and placed them tenderly on the hamper. He stripped off his own pants and we were both naked, lying in the middle of an ancient house in historic Troy. 

~

Paul

She let me lay her softly on her back. The dirt underneath the large table cloth was smoothed flat by all of the workers moving around in there and so the feeling was like lying in a large firm bed. I looked into those incredible tawny eyes and she was looking back at me as if we were one soul. 

That is something she can regularly do. 

She is so sexual that I felt the overwhelming urge to mount her and fuck her like some Trojan hero coming home from battle. But this was NOT why we were here. So instead I caressed that much adored face. 

Her mouth opened and she began to pant, fast deep breaths. I sat her back up and we worked together to strip her to the waist. Her magnificent breasts were swollen with passion, lying on her chest like something out of an advertisement for Hollywood breast enlargement, but perfectly natural nonetheless. 

Her nipples are always very prominent and they are usually my favorite thing to feast on. But today they were looking intimidatingly functional; standing up very tall and hard with their little tiny openings clearly visible. I worshiped them instead. 

She was panting and moaning loudly and it was time. So I made us both naked. I gently got between her legs. Usually she tells me in very explicit terms what she wants me to do at this point, but she was still only moaning tenderly and panting loudly, holding her legs up and slightly bent apart with no effort whatsoever. 

I placed myself at her entrance and slid up into her. I could feel her welcoming me, almost pulling me in. I touched her cervix supporting myself on my arms so as not to crush her. She was moving very slightly, rhythmically but not really fucking back. I withdrew and she gasped and then pushed ahead gently again. 

It was a slow fuck, like it had been that night in Salerno. That particular night she was extremely impatient but today she was totally wide open and accepting, meeting my thrusts with a gentle rock of her hips and a little moan each time I bottomed out in her. 

I continued to look into her eyes, willing things to happen in that fertile womb of hers. She began to become more agitated as we moved together in a gentle motion, her legs elevated higher knees widely spread in a graceful classic female fucking position. 

Finally she began to vocalize, "Ahhhh, Ahhhh, Ahhhh, Ohhhhh, Ahhhh, Ahhhh, Ahhhh, Ohhhhh!" 

That rose in intensity until she couldn't take it any longer and she came wildly. Her insides were as white hot as usual but they were literally tugging on my cock like she wanted what I had to give her. 

That came immediately afterward, with an explosion that had the force of an almost week long layoff behind it. 

I was not rational for some period of time, nor was she. But when I finally came back to my senses I was lying on top of her, still supporting myself on my arms. With her huge tits squashed between us and I had not lost the slightest stiffness.

In an amazingly short time we began to move together again. This time we were much more forceful. She was bucking under me like she usually does and I was ramming her like I couldn't get far enough into her. 

She had a crazed look on her face, which probably matched mine, as she fucked me with every ounce of strength she had. I was wildly humping her. That couldn't last long and we came powerfully together again, which rarely happens twice. 

I rolled off her to lie on my back looking at the nylon canopy 30 feet over my head. 

This time it took several minutes to get my wits back. My first rational thought was, "If her reproductive system is back on line THAT is going to make a baby"! She was lying next to me sobbing.

~

Janey

I don't know what gets into me when I have one of those moments. He had made me cum twice in ways that I could have never imagined. It felt like the contractions would never end and each of them was off the end of the Richter scale. I almost felt myself conceive on the spot. 

The sheer sensation of being fucked like that combined with the gravitas of the moment and the splendor of the place grabbed me by the chest and forced huge wails of emotion out of me. 

I know he thought I was crying because I was sad and so in between sobs I had to tell him that I was just so happy I had to let it out. 

We lay there for several minutes just gathering our thoughts. Then we slowly got back to vertical and began dressing. 

I noticed that very little of his seed had leaked out of me. It was almost as if my body was consciously holding on to it for some other purpose. 

He had brought a picnic but I wasn't interested in eating. I just wanted to sit quietly and soak in the moment. I am never surprised by what happens in my life with him. But this was one instance when I was so overcome by every aspect of the event, from the extreme solemnness of the place to the absolute kind-heartedness of the gesture that I couldn't do anything but sit there and process my feelings.

He cracked open the wine and poured each of us a glass. He held out his glass to me and I responded by giving him a weak smile and clinking mine on his. He said, "I think we should name her Helen." 

I totally lost it again. I know that this sounds pathetically silly and totally sophomoric but I swear that I could feel it happening. We had just conceived another human being in a moment of absolute love. 

Looking at it with hindsight I realize that that actually was the case. But I still offer that I knew it that instant. Women know these things and I swear it!

~

Paul

She wasn't interested in eating. Neither was I. She just sat there buried deep inside her own psyche, thinking. 

I have known this woman for almost six years and I know that she has a very complex and unfathomable mind. But in this instance I knew exactly what she was thinking about. 

So I wrestled the wine open, poured both of us a glass and offered a toast to our new daughter. I was certain that she would be a daughter because Janey's female spirit was too strong to produce anything else. 

She started to cry again. Normally I would have been concerned but it was obvious what she was crying about and why.

We were both thoughtful and sober as I packed up the picnic and we made our way back to the Bentley. The Turkish supervisor of the site was waiting for us at the car, smiling. 

I knew that he wanted to make sure we didn't take anything with us as well as to make himself "available" if I felt motivated to provide him with another "gift." 

He said, "The experience was to your liking?" 

I said "It was indeed" and passed him five hundred Euros for his consideration. 

He smiled and turned back toward his Range Rover. I thought to myself, "You have no idea how much that experience was to my liking."

We drove back to the Kolin in silence. Silence can mean a number of things, ranging from anger and rage on one end of the scale to divine contentment on the other. We were off the end of the scale on the "blissful" side. 

I handed the car and the unfinished picnic to the valet and we made our way up to the room. She immediately undressed and disappeared in the shower. I sat and thought. 

It was night and the lights of the city were glistening in the waters of the Dardanelles in the distance. I honestly didn't know how to treat her now. 

When men experience the moment that their little hottie is promoted to maternal status their first instinct is to start thinking about the woman like their mom. 

Men don't really understand motherhood in any subjective sense. What they DO know though is that there are things going on inside her that make you more or less irrelevant for the next nine months. And that the wild sex that you might have had prior to the pregnancy is tempered by the fact that she is also in the middle of constructing another person. 

So the impression that men all have is that the woman would just as soon that you respected her biological mission by staying out of her womb. 

And I didn't know whether that was what I was supposed to do or not. Hell! I didn't even know whether she was knocked up or not, let alone her attitudes toward sex during pregnancy. But there was suddenly a "distance" there that had never existed before. 

She came out of the shower glowing, drying her hair with a towel. That is all of the "hair styling" that Janey does. She looked at me with total love in her eyes and walked unselfconsciously naked toward me. She took my head, as I was sitting there, and held it to her chest. 

Since there was also a pair of really splendid tits in that same vicinity, I would normally do something adolescently amorous with them. But this time I hesitated. She immediately drew back and looked at me. 

She said to me in that incredibly smoky contralto voice, "I know what you are thinking and you are SO incredibly wrong that I don't know where to start explaining it to you." 

She said, "I am sure you just impregnated me, it is way too early to tell but I know it deep down in my woman soul." 

She said, "And now you are sitting there trying to figure out where you fit into the equation for the rest of our lives." 

I said, "What the fuck, do you levitate objects along with reading minds?" 

She said, "I don't need to read your mind, I know men are little boys and I can see it in your face. So let me tell you about what is going to happen for the rest of our lives. 

"First I am going to so thoroughly fuck you on that bed over there that you are going to be begging me to stop. 

"THEN I am going to fuck you again tomorrow morning until you will be too weak to drive the car. 

"And THEN I am going to fuck you when we get back to the hotel in Istanbul. 

"THEN I am going to start the next day by fucking you wherever we decide to begin our next new adventure together. The point being that you haven't made yourself irrelevant. You have made me your soul mate for life and the baby will just be one more person who will love you to distraction." 

~

Janey

He was sitting there looking confused and a little forlorn. I felt a wave of passion for him that was given extra weight and depth by what I sincerely believed was our new standing as parents. 

I recognize that I really didn't and couldn't have proof of that status but there are things that a woman just knows. He, on the other hand, was no longer sure of where he stood with me. 

All men segregate "mothers" from "women." It is perfectly understandable given the fact that we are the ones who bear them and raise them. 

So "mom" is some special deity in their world, whereas the other "girls" are just sex objects. 

Of course it makes sense to not view "mom" as having the same needs and emotions as one of the people whose pants you are trying to get into. 

But a woman is a woman and if you share a child in a loving relationship that only deepens the connection between a man and his wife. 

I knew that Paul was not going to be the kind of dad who loses interest in the whole parenting thing once the novelty of having a small dependent person who shares their genetic material wears off. And I was never going to stop wanting him in "that way." 

So his concerns about turning some metaphoric corner in our relationship as man and wife were just a fear of the unknown. 

Plus, he might know something about the internet but he knew nothing about female technology. And given what he was clearly thinking, which was the fact that there was somebody else in there now, I was wild to have him inside me just to reassure him that nothing had changed; and he wasn't going to break anything.

He had done himself proud two hours earlier but that was for a different purpose. Now I needed him to prove that he had not forgotten to be the lover he always was. 

He was fully dressed and I was naked. I dropped to my knees between his legs and pushed my hands up under his shirt. I could hear myself panting loudly. 

I pushed his shirt up over his chest and under his arms passionately kissing my way from his belly button up the middle of his stomach to kiss and lick his nipples. He groaned and pulled me as tightly to him as my huge tits would allow him to do. 

I continued to stimulate him that way as he frantically unbuttoned his shirt and literally threw it off. Then I went to work on his belt and zipper. 

Normally I would suck on the thing until I had it ready to enter me but it came out of his pants like a Bengal tiger. And like the tiger he made a low throaty growl picked me up and literally tossed me backward onto the bed. 

He was on top of me before I stopped bouncing and pried my legs apart with a need that was awe inspiring. 

He inserted himself into me with one thrust. I gasped loudly, hissed, groaned and then exploded. 

I think it was all of the tenderness the last time that had built up this unanticipated quantum of outright lust. At any rate the mating that followed was more appropriate to Animal Planet than the porn channel. 

I scratched him, I bit, and I cried out and bucked like a wild thing. He pounded my pussy with a rate and power that was almost inhuman. 

When the orgasm hit it was NOT a beautiful romantic moment, it was like something out of the world wrestling federation. I writhed I shrieked, I couldn't stop my full body shaking and my insides wouldn't stop churning. The heat and the sweat were overpowering as was the smell. It was Homo sapiens the beast, not what we eventually evolved into at that particular moment. 

When we eventually stopped the spasming he rolled off me and we looked at each other. I said between pants, "See what I mean?" He said rather shyly, "Thanks."

~

Paul

It is absolutely amazing how easy it is for two people to get back onto the same page in life. We had a night of passion that put to rest any thoughts that this wonderful creature had changed. 

In the morning she was dressed in a little sun dress traveling get-up that made me almost want to stop and do her again just for the image her heavily swaying breasts were providing. 

But it was still going to be several hours getting back to Istanbul and I had a member of the party to pick up. The ferry is indeed very fast and we pulled into the dock where we had left the Bentley before noon. 

I dropped Janey at the Wyndham and went to the Vet Center to pick up Zeus, who had been incarcerated there for over 24 hours. 

I figured it would take them at least that long to get him examined and groomed but they told me he was ready. 

After paying the bill, which was a lot more than it would have taken to just BUY a puppy they brought him out. 

They had told me at the desk that they had done a genetic sample on him and that he was indeed pure Bouv but I had no idea how magnificently martial he would look once he had been cleaned up. 

If he had actually been from la Legion he couldn't have worn his grey and black coat with any less pride and élan. 

He sat there with the dash and style of a veteran legionnaire. His face was groomed into classic Bouv whiskers that would have done justice to the moustache of a Sergeant La Legion. 

He was practically standing at attention with a look of Gallic arrogance that would have made Charles De Gaul look practically German. 

He said to me, "It is about time Mon ami. Where have you been?" 

I told him that we were making something that it would be his sworn duty to protect with its life. He drew himself up to full attention, saluted and with perfect dignity said, "La legion serves and dies at its post." 



A Lifetime Romance Pt. 06



This is the last chapter of my first book in this series. My publisher is not at all pleased with me for completing a story that they are trying to sell. But anybody who writes knows how authors like to finish things. And the baby that is born here goes on to her own series so as far as I'm concerned they can sell THAT. At any rate, here's the ending. I hope you have enjoyed this series as much as I enjoyed writing it. 

~

Paul

Janey and I hung around Istanbul looking at the many historic things that City has to offer. It was over a month before we got back on the ocean. It could have just as easily been three years since Byzantium/Constantinople/Istanbul is a very old and historic place. 

I hired a guy who really knew has history and told him to try to boil it down to the Byzantine Empire and we still didn't see everything by the time we left. 

We cleared the Dardanelles on a course west of south to Naxos, which is the largest island in the Cyclades and from there to Heraklion, on Crete. 

Naxos was the first leg because we were working our way all of the way across the Mediterranean, to Alexandria to lay-up for the winter. 

November weather is unpredictable at sea and so we were trying to keep as close to ports as possible as we traveled southward. 

Naxos itself is a hotbed of history and classic Greek myth. It was supposedly "protected" by Dionysus, who is the Greek God of wine and tomfoolery, all-in-all my favorite god in the entire pantheon. 

It was also the place where legend says that Theseus supposedly abandoned Ariadne, the daughter of King Minos after she helped him kill the Minotaur, thereby saving his own ungrateful hide. 

I was NOT planning on abandoning Janey there although she was pleading with me to put her ashore permanently. 

She had suddenly and inexplicably developed sea sickness. It had gotten to be her normal morning routine now, to spend a few minutes throwing up. Zeus stood guard over her each time, with a worried look on his face. 

I was concerned myself, at first that is, until both of us figured out what was causing the problem. 

Also, her sudden lack of interest in something that she had always been profoundly interested in before, sex that is, was a dead giveaway. 

We spent a couple of days on Naxos, which might have been the biggest and richest island in the Delian league but was pretty disappointing in modern times and then made course to Heraklion on Crete. 

I wanted to see King Minos's Palace, which is near that city. The palace is the basis for the Cretan Labyrinth myth that also included the Minotaur. 

The palace, Labyrinth and all were wiped out 3,500 years ago along with most of Cretan civilization when the Thera volcano, which forms the present Greek island of Santorini, blew up. 

The catastrophic eruption of that volcano and the subsequent tsunami are ALSO generally considered to be the historical basis for Atlantis and the biblical "flood". 

The palace itself was disappointing, basically a big pile of stones. It was hard to expect anything less given the fact that we were there to see "ruins" but it was unsatisfying nonetheless.

The home stretch of our journey was going to take us across a lot of open water and the weather situation was not looking ideal as we rounded the western tip of Crete and set off south into open water at Makry-Gialos toward Derna in Libya. 

We chose that particular route, based strictly on the shortest distance for getting across from Crete to Africa. Because the wind was 90 degrees off the nose toward Africa we were under full sail with a spinnaker up. 

The swells themselves were not helping Janey's problems with seasickness, so I had my people arrange a full medical exam for her when we got into Alexandria.

~

Janey

The little lady in my head was feeling very smug indeed, "I knew he knocked you up there in Troy". I confirmed it myself when I started throwing up every morning like clockwork. 

But what was actually more distressing was my general loss of interest in sex. I have been very highly sexed since I was fourteen. And now, suddenly, I just didn't have the same feelings. 

I had expected the morning sickness. I had NOT expected that I would lose my hearty appetite for being fucked and that was very upsetting indeed. 

Female lore says that lasts about three months and then you are hungrier than ever. I was really looking forward to getting those three months out of the way because my body ached for Paul. 

I am strong enough mentally to still compel myself to respond to him when he touches me but it wasn't spontaneous any more, not like it used to be at least. 

Basically, my hormones were going crazy and I found myself acting like a silly girl instead of a hungry woman in situations where my emotional responses were previously just reflexes. 

We still worked together as a team to sail the boat. But there would be periods now when I just couldn't take it and would have to get by myself to gather my thoughts. 

Normally that would amount to me sitting with my legs gathered up to my chest in the bow of the boat, with Zeus always sitting by me like a solitary sentry. 

He had turned into a matchless friend and companion. He appeared to know that there was a new human being growing inside me and it was clear that he had assigned himself the stern and unrelenting duty of personally protecting both me and her. 

I don't discount doggie ESP. They are not as purely intelligent as humans but they possess a wealth of other special talents, one of which is the ability to "empathize" in an inhumanly perceptive way. Zeus was doing that now, as he stared into the distance next to me. 

Then he began to growl. I looked in the direction that he was looking and saw nothing. We had been in the open ocean for almost a day and a night and the coast of Africa was now visible across the horizon. But we were still 20 miles or so away from Derna in Libya, which was our navigation point. 

Given what was going on in Libya, Derna was not our actual destination but we planned on turning east at twelve miles out, in order to coast along to Alexandria. 

Once we started easterly we could drop the spinnaker and put up the Genoa. Derna is a nowhere city in Libya but it is still notable because it is the location of an 1805 Battle where a few marines captured the entire place. And that event added the line "To the shores of Tripoli" to the Marine song. 

I finally saw what Zeus saw. There was movement way off in the distance and it seemed to be heading toward us.

~

Paul

Janey was sitting on the bow with her magnificent legs drawn up in front of her. La Legion was at its post guarding her. She needs to get alone once in a while to handle the emotions that she is wrestling with from her pregnancy and I only love her more for the quiet and considerate way she does that. 

She shouted to me, "Paul, come here, there's something I want you to see." 

I locked the auto-steerer on 180 degrees and headed for the bow. She was pointing off to our right at something moving toward us, perhaps two miles away. Zeus was saying in no uncertain terms that he didn't like what he saw. 

I got the Steiner 7x50 Navigator binoculars out of the cabin. There was indeed a large Zodiac powered by a couple of big outboards headed our way. 

There were seven men in the Zodiac and each of them was sporting an AK 47. One had an RPG launcher that he appeared to be loading. 

It didn't take a tactical genius to figure out what was going on here. The troubles in Libya have spawned a number of sidelight businesses, besides extremism. And one of those is an informal brand of piracy. 

It wasn't like it was an organized enterprise. It was just that once in a while some of the locals like to pile into a zodiac and go out and rob and kill the tourists who come by in an expensive boat. Our Bordeaux 60 fit that profile. 

I like to be prepared for any eventuality when I travel. One of those is self-defense. I dragged out my old Barrett M82 SASR from where it was neatly stowed, and set it up on the forward deck. 

One of the options I had coming out of basic was sniper school and I had been trained on the Barrett there. That was before I decided that helicopters had more of an upside. But I kept up my Barrett proficiency. And Janey, who trains with me, might actually be a better shot. 

I had bought one of the last models, the M82A1M. This model could handle a Leupold Mark 4 telescopic sight and thanks to that scope a shot in the 1,000 to 1,200 yard range was not particularly difficult. 

The Barrett fires a couple of varieties of 50 caliber rounds but the one I selected for this particular application was the Raufoss 211 Mod 0. 

These are incendiary rounds and generally not considered "sporting" for use against humans. 

I didn't have any particular grudge against the people in the boat, except the obvious. So, I just planned on disabling it. 

They were still about three quarters of a mile away when they fired the RPG at us. The distance was twice as far as the effective rang of an RPG. But they air burst it nonetheless in order to make us stop. 

Janey had coolly retreated to the steering position and she immediately stopped engines and came about dead in the water. Her aim was to give me a stable firing platform, not surrender the boat. 

Zeus had gone from growling to outright barking when the RPG round went off, telling the occupants of the boat that the La Legion had fixed bayonets waiting for them if they even thought about boarding us. 

The trick in making that kind of shot is to not even have a heartbeat at the point where you pull the trigger. So I stilled my breathing and heart rate, essentially putting myself into a trance where the only reality was the red dot that was focused on their starboard outboard engine. 

When you are in that state the sound of the gun going off won't even affect you. The 50 caliber round I sent downrange is a huge bullet, designed to explode on impact. 

It hit their motor three seconds later, dead center. And the bursting motor and the incendiary blew both motors and the transom completely off of the Zodiac. 

It also appeared that the guy steering the thing was hit by flying shrapnel but he was just collateral damage as far as I was concerned. 

Their boat stopped dead in the water and I pumped a few more rounds into the RIB's side, carefully avoiding hitting anybody. The boat began to sink. 

That was not a concern for me because I imagined that half the population was watching those guys and somebody would come out sooner or later to fish them out. In my mind they deserved a little swim for their efforts.

I stowed the Barrett as we started to move away to the east and I was walking back along the deck when she confronted me with her eyes shining. Rather than being upset, events like this turn Janey on. 

She burns with the fires of a natural predator. And it was clear that the thought of us working together as we had just done, had her all pumped up. Better yet, she normally expresses that emotion by trying to fuck me to death. 

She planted a huge open mouth kiss on me that quickly turned into the mother of all make-out session's right there on the deck. 

I was wondering where that was going to lead when she turned inside my arms and began to rhythmically push those huge muscular buns against my rapidly enlarging interest while I held her wide womanly hips. 

That contact made her moan loudly and she turned quickly facing me again, looked me deeply in the eyes, grabbed the front of my shirt and led me into the cabin acting more agitated as she went. I wasn't protesting. 

She pushed me backward onto the bed. I was fully dressed as was she. She shed her shorts and unzipped my pants and started to frantically pull out old Lucifer. 

The poor old boy had been on a serious layoff and so he was not quite awake yet but Janey was in no mood to wait. She jumped up on the bed straddling me, pushed her thong aside and suddenly I felt the old familiar heat and silkiness. 

She groaned loudly. Her huge tits were still fully hoisted in her bra and they literally hung over me like a mountain shelf. Normally she sheds all of her upper clothing so we can feel them smashed in between but in this case she was getting more and more frantic with her movements, gyrating her hips around in full circles on the pivot of my cock. 

I reached up and massaged one breast and she let out a sharp cry that had Zeus, who had been locked out of the cabin, barking. 

Her heat and wetness were incredible even for her. She fell forward squashing her bra encased tits on my chest. Looking down, the mounds that that formed between us were unbelievably big and sexy. 

She was panting loudly and moaning in a constant rhythm. Then she started to growl, deep in her chest. She had only done that once before in our entire relationship and that might have been the most intense fuck of our life. 

She moaned and growled and gyrated wildly for several minutes working herself up to some kind of earth shaking orgasm. 

In the meantime I was trying to lift her off the bed with each thrust. I couldn't take it any longer and I came first pumping my sperm into her in a torrent of coming and that set HER off. 

She shrieked, and bucked wildly several times. 

Her hands, which were spread out on the bed, turned to claws as she grabbed the covers and pulled them up to get more leverage. She began to yell, "OHHHH MYYYYY GOOODDDD." She plastered her throbbing pussy on my cock and started full body shaking yelling, "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!" Then she passed out limply on my chest with her insides still churning like the ocean in a force five hurricane. 

My own consciousness was lying in about a thousand pieces on the bed. So I started the task of picking it up and putting it back together thinking, "If this isn't the most magnificent woman in the world I don't know who is?" 

She came back to me almost immediately and rolled off onto the bed next to me, making a sucking sound as she did. Janey has been sexually active for ten years but she still has a pussy that is tighter than most 18 year olds. When she encloses you in that honeyed thing it is like an expensive glove fitting your hand and when she takes you out of her you actually experience a sense of loss. That was what happened here. 

But it was good to see that she had not lost her fantastic skills as a lover and that she still felt the same hunger for me that I have always felt for her. The Janey Alden of old was back. 

~

Janey

Paul is a very strange man. Rather than being upset by the approach of a boat full of armed terrorists, he seemed happy to have a distraction. 

We have both shot the Barrett a lot and I know what it can do. So when he dragged it out of storage I was afraid he was going to use it on the approaching pirates. 

The impact of a 50 caliber incendiary round on anything human is not a pretty sight and I did not relish being involved in killing 7 people that way. 

But then again, they WERE planning on cutting his throat, raping me and probably sinking the boat with our dead bodies on board, so I went with the plan. 

I made my way back to the helm and took it off of auto-steer. Then when they signaled that they wanted us to stop I brought the boat around to give Paul the most advantageous angle, with their boat dead ahead of us. 

I knew that at almost a half mile it was important that he be able to fire directly at them, not as they passed in front of us. He seemed to be in some sort of Zen trance up there, with Zeus standing behind him telling them in explicit terms what the war dog was going to do to them if they as much as came close to the people he was protecting.

The shot startled me. It was followed by four more. In the distance I could see the motors on the Zodiac explode in a ball of shrapnel and fall completely off the boat. The guy who was steering the thing seemed to lift up and drop out of sight. 

The other incendiary rounds tore the side out of the RIB hull and the boat started to sink. There was panic and consternation among the people on the boat followed shortly thereafter by all of them thrashing around in the water. 

Given their intentions it was hard not to laugh at them as we went past. 

I brought the boat around into the wind again, tightened sail and we continued off along the African coast on the auto-steerer. I had no immediate feelings about the incident. 

Nobody had been hurt, with the possible exception of the guy next to the exploding motor. 

But that really wasn't our doing and we were safe. That is one of the odd things about having a lover and life companion like Paul. You just expect things to turn out okay. 

He walked back with the wolfish smile he gets every time he does something that makes him full of himself. Looking at him that way, I felt all of the old lust and wantonness returning so I confronted him and threw my arms around him and pushed my tits into his chest. 

Both of us like that sensation. He looked down quizzically and I tried to swallow his tongue. THAT got his attention. He locked me in an iron embrace and we kissed passionately for a minute. 

Then I broke the kiss and without a word turned and wrapped his arms around me underneath my boobs. I had to feel him so I began thrusting and twitching my ass against him in a way that turns both of us seriously on. 

Since things had been off-and-on for almost two and a half months I had to let him know that the old feelings had returned. I gripped the starboard railing arched my back and offered myself to him. He thrust back. 

Knowing he was ready I turned inside his arms again and looked him deeply in the eye. I wanted to communicate how much I had missed him. I then grabbed him by the front of his shirt and marched him into the cabin. I butted the door closed because with what I had in mind I didn't want to upset Zeus. 

My body literally ached to have him inside me so I shoved him backwards as soon as his legs hit the bed, dropped my shorts and unzipped him and popped him in. He was still a little soft but I was going to make him a lot harder. 

I was in such need of him I didn't even take the time to take off my bra. I just crushed my melons on his chest, while gyrating my hips in little 360 degree circles to feel him in every place inside me.

Then the growling started. I have only done that once before with him, when he had turned me on to a point where I was well past redemption. It comes from deep inside me where the animal lives and I was not really human at that point. I was the most shameless slut in the world for him. 

I screamed and growled and cried and panted. He was lifting me off the bed with his thrusts, when he suddenly came. 

Usually I can feel him building to an orgasm but in this case it came totally out of the blue. One moment he was thrusting into me while I shrieked and the next it felt like a gallon of boiling hot sperm was filling me up. 

The sensation was beyond bearable. I screamed, "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!" and lost consciousness. 

When I came to I rolled off him with an audible sucking sound, which was a little embarrassing. I know that I am very tight but it sounded like I had been sucking his cock with the other end of me. My only thought at that point was, "It's back, oh thank GOD it's back!!" 

~

Paul

The weather had become nasty as we started the final 400 mile run along the coast of North Africa toward Alexandria. 

There were no actual weather events over the water at this point but there were dust storms blowing daily off the Libyan Desert and the wind had picked up variable out of the northwest. 

It was driving us along at almost 12 knots so the run into Alexandria didn't look like it was going to take more than another day or so. We were moving past one of the most desolate places in the world and so there was no scenery landward to look at except the occasional 2,000 foot high dust cloud.




A Lifetime Romance Pt. 06



The sat phone rang at 23:30 which was 17:30, or 5:30 PM back in the States. Janey was in the cabin at the time preparing for bed and I was getting set for the night watch with Zeus. 

She answered it. She talked for a minute or two and then emerged from the cabin, agony written on her face. She ran across the deck and literally threw her little body into me. She flung her arms around my neck and wept piteously. 

I was totally mystified. When she finally got some control over her crying she said between sobs, "Daddy has had a heart attack. He is in intensive care." 

I knew what her dad meant to her and so I held her for a while, until she had stopped the major shaking and snuffling. Then I went below and got the phone. I called my man Chuck in California, where it was only approaching 3PM and gave explicit orders for a helicopter to meet us at the docks at Tobruk, which we had just passed on our right. 

With flight time that would be about an hour and a half from Alexandria, just enough for me to get into that port and get Janey ashore. THEN I wanted first class on the first flight out of Borg El Arab, Alexandria to Philly. 

I pay the guy a lot because I know how hellishly efficient he is, so I didn't even bother to check back. 

Tobruk has a great harbor, perhaps the best in the entire region so it was easy to make my way to an empty slip in the dark and tie up. Janey had not moved from where she was lying on the Navigator's bench. It was 01:40 and I almost immediately heard the helicopter. I made a mental note to put a little extra in Chuck's sock for Christmas. 

I waved a torch flashlight up into the sky and the pilot brought a Bell 407 in to hover and land on the dock. Without switching off I kissed Janey and bundled her, and a little travel bag I had packed for her, on the chopper and the pilot lifted off for the 200 mile flight back to Borg El Arab. 

She was in a state of miserable acquiescence. With luck she would be on the 6:30 AM Emirates flight to the States and at the hospital before noon.

It was the middle of the night, pitch black and very quiet. I was tired and we were tied to a dock. I would sort out the landing fees and whatever visa requirements in the morning. 

I went into the cabin and closed the door. Zeus took up his guard post at the entrance and I lay in the bed, alone for the first time in my memory. Sleep came very quickly but I was restless without my little Janey sleeping next to me.

~

Janey

Life is what it is. One moment I was totally blissfully pregnant sailing in exotic climes with the love of my life and the next I felt a sense of fear, loss and misery that I thought would crush me. 

Next to Paul my daddy was everything to me. He was the one who raised me to be me. He was the godlike figure I modeled myself after and he was the first to love me unconditionally, as Paul does now. In essence he was my life before Paul. And now he lay possibly dying. 

My mother was the one who called and she actually broke the news to me kindly, in her own way. But the tone of her voice still dripped with implications that I could probably care less because I was gallivanting around the Mediterranean with that low-bred husband of mine. 

You occasionally get into situations in your life where it is not possible to be reasonable and rational. The circumstances itself were just so overwhelming I wanted to curl up into a little ball and die. 

I didn't know how to do anything other than throw myself into Paul's arms and weep. He held me for a very long time and then he lay me down on the padded bench next to the tiller and went in to make some calls. 

Then, he began doing things with the helm, with me pillowing my head on his leg crying. A long time passed and I was miserably running through all of the things my daddy and I had done together in my mind. 

Paul got up, leaving me lying back on the bench. He went forward and aft apparently tying up the boat to something and then I heard a helicopter. It was pitch black but he came back to the bench, gently got me to my feet and helped me step up onto some sort of ancient commercial dock somewhere. 

He took a torch he was holding and shone it up in the sky and almost immediately there was a big blast of air and a sleek blue and white helicopter appeared in front of us. He kissed and held me like he was saying good bye to me forever and then walked me to the helicopter, opened the door and put me inside. 

The last I saw of him he was standing forlornly on the dock with Zeus by his side and then the landscape became one dark blob. I still had no idea what was happening but I trusted Paul with my life. 

After an interval of time we circled a brightly lit city and moved inland where there was an even more brightly lit airport. The helicopter dropped me on the tarmac near a very official looking Arab man. 

He said, "Janey Larson?" which is my married name. 

I said, "Yes", over the noise of the helicopter's departure. 

He said that he was the local Charge d'Affairs for the U.S. State Department and that if I would come with him he would make my arrangements. 

Mystified, I followed him into the terminal. He walked directly to an Emirates Desk in the terminal. Handed them some credentials and they sent a person over to help escort me through security to a departure gate. 

There was some more flashing of credentials and I found myself in an airport seat next to the gate. 

The two left me there with the bag Paul had handed me two hours earlier. I could see that I was waiting for a flight to Philadelphia that left in three hours. 

I was so overcome with exhaustion and grief that those three hours passed in a haze. Then I found myself in a luxurious first class sleeping pod on a westbound 747. I slept soundly for the next nine hours.

~ 

Paul

The sun rose hot and bright. I had ended up in Tobruk because it was the nearest port. But the place has serious World War Two historical associations. The British and Germans fought over it almost constantly until Rommel bagged it and a bunch of its British defenders. That was a big strategic blow to the allies in WWII. 

I came out on deck to discover that I was tied to some ancient structure that was actually a little north and west of the City itself, which was in a huge bay around the point from where I was at. 

I was several miles from the actual port and I was surprised the guy in the helicopter found me so fast, until I realized that where I was actually stuck out more prominently into the Mediterranean than the City itself, which was tucked quite a ways back behind me in the bay.

Since I still hadn't attracted any attention I decided to just make my way back to the twelve mile limit and think about what to do next. 

Zeus was concerned that he couldn't man his post guarding Janey but I told him that he could stand down the Bouv for the duration because she had more important things to do. 

I was equally at a loss as we motored out to sea. I had absolutely NO desire to sail on to Alexandria without her. And particularly given the reception we had gotten the day before there was no place in Libya that I wanted to stop. 

What I wanted to do was to get to some place where I could drop the boat and join Janey.

The nearest and by far the most logical place to do that was Malta. That was about 500 nautical miles and two days of hard sailing away. We had used the sails most of the time so the tanks were still full of diesel fuel. 

Thus, I set a course North of West on the motor on an approximate bearing of 280 degrees. If I had not been distracted by other things I would have realized that Zeus and I were making our way into totally open water, in the worst sailing weather of the entire year. 

The day was spent battening down the boat in case of a storm. I got all of the lockers and hatches secured, and made sure that everything that moved was tied down. The sky was an odd blue white with high altitude wispy clouds. 

The Bordeaux is a very powerful boat and we were making closer to twelve knots, which meant that with luck we would be pulling into Valetta harbor in the afternoon tomorrow. There have been far too many times in my life that I have looked back at thoughts like that with total grim irony. This was one of them.

~

Janey

I slept like the dead and awoke almost refreshed as the plane touched down at PHL. Because of the time difference the nine hour flight from Alexandria had only taken a virtual three hours and so I stepped off the plane and into customs at 10:00 AM in the morning. 

When I considered that I had gotten on a helicopter at 1:30 AM that same day in a strange Libyan city the time shift was totally disorienting. There was a representative of the State Department waiting at the gate holding a "Jane Larson" sign. I walked up to him and identified myself. 

Then I had to suddenly leave him for my regular morning vomiting session. I walked out of the ladies room totally embarrassed and said shamefaced, "First trimester." 

He grinned and said, "My wife used to do that. I sure am glad I'm a guy." 

There were some more exchanges of credentials and I was walked out into the terminal where another gentleman was waiting with a similar sign. He was the car service. I marveled at Paul's reach and the abilities of his team.

The car service took me to The Hospital of the University of Pennsylvania, which is the best vascular care center in that part of the country. 

I made my way up to the ICU floor expecting to see somebody from my family but I was there by myself. 

I walked to the nurse's station with a puzzled look on my face and said, "I'm inquiring after Robert Alden. He is supposed to be a patient here?" 

The nurse said, "Oh yes, Mr. Alden. Are you family?" 

I said, "I'm his daughter. Where is my mother?" 

The nurse said, "She was here earlier but she said that she couldn't take the stress and so she went home. She said that she would send somebody later on." 

The little lady in my head grimaced and said, "Leopards never change their spots!" 

I went back to the ICU and daddy was lying there totally unconscious, looking shrunken, with tubes and wires coming out of him. I wept. After a very short time a nurse steered me back to a seat in the waiting room. 

I was wearing a pair of jeans and a sweater that I hadn't changed in several days. And I wanted to spend the duration waiting there. So I told the nurse I would be back as soon as I had showered and gotten some things to weak. I found a cab outside and went to my apartment. 

I actually own the entire building. And the Tavern underneath my apartment has been an excellent source of revenue for my trust. I bought it as soon as I turned 21 as a "silent partner", since I didn't want any of my friends finding out that I was actually the proprietor of my own favorite watering hole. 

That fact might affect a girl's chances with the men that the Tavern attracted. 

My apartment, which I had built and furnished over the bar also comes in handy occasionally. I keep some clothes there and so after a long hot shower and a change into new things I packed a bag, grabbed my Kindle and reappeared back at the hospital. 

My mother must have been too overcome by her grief because she still had not made an appearance.

I spent the rest of the day sitting quietly in the waiting room reading the Odyssey. I had never read it and since it more-or-less mirrored our journey for the past several months, minus the Cyclops and without any of us being turned into pigs, I was eager to read it. 

The day passed into night and still no mother, or change in my daddy's condition. I got a little sleep curled up on a couch and the next morning was bright and sunny. 

Finally, one of my cousins showed up. She said that she had been in touch with my mother who was still so "prostrate with grief and exhaustion" that she couldn't possibly make it down to the hospital. 

She said that she was coming on behalf of my mother's family. She then looked at her watch and said that she had an important business appointment, but she was sure that my mother would be there as soon as she got control of her grief. Then she hurried off leaving me alone. 

I tried very hard not to let my contempt show.

I was idly watching CNN International as day began to merge into night. It had been two days now since I had last held Paul and my body was crying out for him. The news people were covering a powerful storm that had swept the Western Mediterranean that day. 

I thought to myself, "It is lucky that Paul is in Alexandria." 

Apparently it was severe enough that several of the big boats that plied those waters were actually reported to be in trouble in the area south of Sicily. I breathed a sigh of relief.

~

Paul

We had motored to a point about 100 nautical miles south and east of Valetta when the wind started out of the northwest at about 40 knots. We had been making 12 knots at that point but I had to turn and run to the southwest to keep headway. 

The sun had set an hour earlier and the waves were in the range of 10-12 feet breaking directly over the bow. I told Zeus that I wanted him in the cabin but he insisted that the La Legion never retreats. I put a life jacket on him as best as I could, belting it tightly to the top of his body. 

Then I battened the cabin shut, effectively making the boat watertight no matter what hit it. 

The boat was doing the roller coaster thing on the swells but still riding relatively sound when the first of the really big waves hit us square on the nose. 

These kinds of killer rollers are an artifact of the depths we were in and apparently it was shallower here than in other places because the waves were exceptionally high. 

I was so busy steering I didn't have time to consult the depth gauge so I couldn't say for sure. But I seemed to recall that the APOSTLE Paul was shipwrecked in this vicinity at around the same time of the year for the same general reason

We went up perhaps 25 feet and crashed down bow first burying the boat up to the front of the cabin. We popped back up just as we ran into the second roller. It was probably 30 feet high. We went up and down and this time the boat dove down to the mainmast. 

We must have been taking water because I could hear the bilge pumps start up. I had lashed Zeus to the stantion using lines to his life jacket as the point of attachment. That was a good thing because he sailed right past me and would have gone over the side otherwise. 

He shook himself and said, "Mon Dieu!!" I was holding onto the wheel and so I said to him, "You've got that right buddy!" 

We continued that way for several hours. Finally the entire main mast came down. I could see that that would eventually happen since I had been watching it teeter every time we hit a major roller. 

Finally, the mother of all waves dropped us so far on the other side of the crest that the boat literally stood on its nose up to the cockpit where Zeus and I were lashed. I knew for sure we weren't going to make it 

I pulled out the sat phone. I called Janey's number. She answered brightly, "Hello my love." 

I said, "You are the love of my life and my greatest joy. I just need you to know that." 

She sounded concerned, "Where are you?" 

I said, "That doesn't matter. What matters is that I want you and our daughter to know that I love you with all of my heart." 

Then we hit the next fifty foot wave and the boat never came back up. 

I cut the lines that were lashing us to the wheel as the boat dove. I had deployed a 15 foot inflatable rescue raft behind the boat when things started to get rough. Providentially, it was floating about three feet from me as I bobbed up from the sinking. 

Zeus was floundering around in his improvised life jacket swearing fluently in colloquial Greek and French. I dragged the raft over by its line and pulled myself into it hauling Zeus along as I went. Then I pulled up the clam shell and sealed the cover. 

That made the raft a bubble on the raging sea. Zeus was licking my face like he couldn't stop thanking me and I was recalling the time Janey had fucked me so thoroughly in that Mykonos alley for the same approximate reason. On the whole I favored the Mykonos experience. 

We were going up and down 50 feet at a time but because of the raft's construction that was all that was happening. There were no leaks and we were relatively dry. There was even one of those chemical lights and I took stock of our situation in its green glow. 

We were covered and out of the rain. Short of an end of the world event we were going to ride this out drifting on top of the waves, although fifty foot changes in altitude were making me want to heave. 

Zeus shook himself and said, "Je jure par Dieu", which I translated as "I swear to God, this is very inconvenient and unpleasant." I laughed and hugged the big lug.

~

Janey

I was drowsing in my chair at around 10:00 PM when my phone rang. I saw with delight that it was Paul. I was wondering what Alexandrian boulevard café he was calling me to gloat from. I was dying to hear his voice. 

He sounded like he was in extreme distress. He told me how much he loved me and then the transmission ended abruptly. I was concerned but I couldn't actually understand why I should be. He was safe in Alexandria. 

At midnight my phone rang again. It was Chuck, his major domo calling from California. He said, "Have you heard from Paul?" 

I said that he had just called me but the transmission had been cut off, "Probably a problem with the satellite." 

Chuck said that he was getting concerned because the last time he had heard from Paul he was asking him to make arrangements to mothball the boat in Valetta Malta and there was a force four Mediterranean storm in that area. He said, "Do you think he is in that area?" 

My anxiety level spiked, "You mean he isn't in Alexandria?" 

He said, "No he turned toward Malta after dropping you in Tobruk." At least that answered the question about where he had landed me. 

I said that I had no idea where he was and I was praying he would call back. In the meantime I told Chuck that he should alert the authorities. 

I was panic stricken but I didn't have enough information. I dialed the sat phone number but it went immediately to voice mail. 

I had to be strong for him and so no matter how frightened I was I had to use my rational side. I was thinking to myself, "It is 6:30 AM there the sun will be up within an hour." 

Knowing Paul he would head directly toward Valetta from where he had dropped me, even though it was dangerous to take a course so far away from land. I knew he would do that because he would want to get to me as soon as he could. 

So I called Chuck back. I told him that I wanted him to order an air and sea search using whatever assets he could organize. I told him that I wanted it on a line running from Valetta to Tobruk. I told him that I wanted the search radius to be 50 miles to either side of that line. 

He said that the authorities would probably send out a search plane on that vector but if we wanted a search of that magnitude we would have to pay for it. 

I told him that I would wire a million dollars from my personal account within the hour. 

He told me that Paul had plenty of money and not to bother. He said he would give me hourly updates. 

I have not been religious since my teens but I went down to the hospital chapel and I prayed there with the all of the force of our unborn child.

The first call from Chuck came three hours after that. It was full daylight in the Mediterranean even though it was 4 AM here. A search helicopter out of Valetta had discovered the floating wreckage of a yacht, just a sail and the usual debris ten miles off of the search vector and 50 nautical miles from Malta. There were no survivors in the vicinity. 




A Lifetime Romance Pt. 06



I started wild crying. But I swear the baby within me said, "Have them search in the direction the wind was blowing last night." 

I got ahold of myself and said to Chuck, "Have them search in the direction that a raft would drift in front of the wind. I will pay anything." 

A mere half hour later Chuck called to say that the same helicopter had found him and a dog in a raft almost 20 miles southwest of the debris field. They had a rescue helicopter headed out to pick him up. 

The sweet voice of my unborn child said, "Have a little faith mother - Really!!" 

I was thinking that she was only negative six months old and already shaping up to be a spunky little thing.

~

Paul

The storm blew past sometime in the night. I was actually drying out when the sun came up. I broke the top seal and folded down the side of the protective clamshell. 

Zeus and I were now drifting in a totally empty sea with the sun beginning to get hot. We had a couple of gallons of drinking water a flare gun and three flares and some energy bars. 

I unwrapped one split it and handed him his half. 

He said, "Merci mon ami" and daintily took it in his front teeth. One gulp later he was finished with it. I poured some water in my hand and he lapped it. 

We now settled down to wait. My watch told me that it was 10:00 AM. I had seen contrails overhead so I knew we were in some sort of air corridor but I also knew that nobody would be able to see me from 35,000 feet. 

I was trying to think of my favorite times making love to Janey when I heard rotors in the distance. I was still in 5-10 foot swells and it is not easy to see toward the horizon but on one upswing of a wave I saw a chopper way off in the distance. 

I loaded my flare gun and fired. The green flare arced up into the sky. Nothing! I reloaded and fired again. This time it was red. Still nothing! 

Then I heard the rotors much closer. I fired my final flare. As I did it I saw a Sea Stallion with Italian markings on it nearby and headed my way. It went into a hover directly over me and dropped a harness. 

I loaded my dog in the harness. Zeus was clearly Legion infantry, not airborne. He complained bitterly all the way up. They dropped the harness again and I was inside a CH53 for the first time in 20 years. It felt good.

~ 

Janey

My phone rang at 1:00 in the afternoon. The hospital had moved me into a room and then sedated me once the nurses became aware of my situation. 

I could hear two of them out in the hall talking, "Her father is dying and she just lost her husband at sea." 

The other voice said, "Oh the poor thing, I don't think I could survive that." 

I would have started to cry if I had not already heard from Chuck that they had picked up Paul and his dog and were flying him to Valetta for a medical checkup. I was deciding whether to buy Chuck a Ferrari, or a California beach house as a little "thank you." 

I was still a bit under the influence of the drug when I answered the ring. 

The last time I had heard that voice was yesterday and it had been under considerable stress. Now it was HIM and he sounded gloriously healthy and cheerful. He wanted to know how I was doing and in conjunction with that how my daddy was. I told him that I was suddenly marvelous and that there was almost no hope for my dad. 

I was amazed that after surviving a nearly fatal shipwreck his first concerns were about me and my dad. I told him that the thought of almost losing him as well as my father put that entire situation in perspective and that I was ready for it to happen now. 

I told him that I could take care of everything on this end and to rest up and join me when he could. He told me that he was about three hours out of Philly and that he would see me at the hospital before dinner. 

My heart tried to leap out of my chest, but it just had to settle for beating wildly. I said, "What did you say?" 

He said, "I am inbound over the Atlantic right now. The ETA is three hours to PHL. I chartered a jet as soon as they let me out of the clinic, couldn't put my old comrade Zeus in a commercial baggage hold could I?" 

I had a vision of Paul and that animal drinking Champagne and guzzling caviar as they flew along in luxurious splendor. I smiled. 

~

Paul

I was greeted by a U.S. rep as soon as I swung down out of the Sea Stallion in Valetta. I was wondering if I would have gotten the same treatment if I had not had a couple of billion dollars in the bank. He handled the transient visa details for me. 

There were a bunch of reporters who wanted to interview me about my experiences out there in the storm but I brushed right past them to get to the car that Chuck had waiting for me. I was thinking to myself, "That dude is really going to like his year-end bonus." 

I was whisked to a local clinic trailing a cloud of paparazzi and protesting all the way about the delay. But Chuck told me over the phone that it was going to take an hour or so to get a charter lined up anyway and I might as well humor the local government officials, since they had gone all-out in the search and rescue. 

Zeus was helping himself to the ham sandwich I had bought him at the airport. He told me that he personally had no thoughts whatsoever about the rescue as long as I kept the food coming. He said, "In the words of Bonaparte - an army travels on its stomach, Messieur." 

The NetJets Cessna Citation XLS+ was waiting and ready to go when I got to Malta International. Both Zeus and I clambered on board and we were wheels-up within minutes. 

The flight attendant had been warned in advance and so she had a bowl ready with sufficient food to keep Zeus happy. I was happy because I was going to see my love.

~

Janey

He looked a little haggard but nonetheless it was the same dear face. He had parked Zeus at my apartment and picked up some of the clothes he leaves there. He was in a black mock turtle neck, blue jeans and wearing a pair of old loafers that he had deposited there the day he had moved in with me. 

That was only six years ago but it seemed more like six hundred. He was standing there jauntily relaxed, brown as a berry with a serious nautical beard and those bright blue eyes under his white blond hair. 

I flew across the lobby of the hospital and threw myself into his arms kissing him frantically all over his face. Then we had one of the hottest tongue swapping kisses administered in the City of Philadelphia since the signing of the Declaration of Independence. 

While all of this was taking place my feet were dangling about a half a foot off the marble floor. 

He finally put me down and extended me to arms-length looking at my face like he was trying to memorize it. I looked at him with the adoration anybody would feel who thought they had lost the love of their life. 

We couldn't keep our hands off each other. Not in any sexual way, we just had to keep touching each other. 

He said, "How is your dad?" 

I said, "His status hasn't changed but he is still in super critical condition." 

He said, "Well let's get up there and wait until it changes for the better." 

We sat for three days, eating at the cafeteria or out of vending machines. Paul left for a couple of hours each day to take care of Zeus and once a day I would go home for a shower and change of clothes. 

We held hands for hours as I read and Paul fiddled with his laptop computer doing whatever internet gurus do. I also spent hours with one leg thrown over his, or lying sleeping with my head pillowed in his lap. 

We were in a perfect place in terms of our intimacy without a single sexual moment. Although there were a couple of times in the night I deeply wanted to turn my head and take what I was sleeping on into my mouth. 

Finally, on the morning of the fourth day a nurse dressed in those ubiquitous green scrubs came hurriedly out of the ICU and said, "He's awake and he wants to see you." 

Both Paul and I started to get up but the nurse put her hand out and said, "Only her I'm afraid." 

I was overjoyed that he was awake and so I, probably unkindly, abandoned Paul without a word and rushed back with the nurse. I knew he would understand. 

When we got to the critical care pod I saw him sitting among all of those beeping and blinking machines with his eyes open. The look of love that came over his face almost made me drop to the floor crying, but I had to be his "Janey" for him. 

He smiled weakly and said, "I just had to see you one last time kitten." 

He didn't ask where mother was. I must have looked aghast because he quickly added, "It is very easy to pass on to the next world knowing that I have a daughter like you. I know it is selfish to make you go through this but have always been my hope, my pride and my joy and I need you to know that before I go." 

I broke down at that point, sobbing, unable to speak. He took my hand in his and kissed it and then waved weakly to the nurse. The nurse put her arm around my shoulder and said, "You have to leave now." 

I was going to make a scene about staying at his bedside. But we are not a family that makes scenes. So I had to be brave for him. My last glimpse was of him lying there, looking totally at peace. He died less than an hour later.

~

Paul

Janey got the news lying crosswise in a waiting room couch with me holding her. She sobbed into my shoulder for some time and then did what she always does when she has cried herself out. 

She dried her eyes and blew her nose with a handkerchief that I had given her. She gathered herself with extreme dignity. And with her catlike grace she rose from the couch and walked to the nurses' station. She asked to see him one last time. 

They took her back and she was there for several minutes and then she came out looking tough and composed as if she had passed some new milestone and was ready for the next phase of her life. I asked her if I could handle the funeral arrangements for her. She said, "Only if you let me pay Chuck what he deserves." 

I chuckled and said, "Between you and me he is going to be one rich surfer dude." 

The funeral was excruciating, not because they were celebrating the passing of a man of great humanity and courage. It was because her mother insisted on turning the funeral of her husband into a mass spectacle of her personal anguish. 

Although she had never actually made it to the hospital during the time he lay dying, she left the impression that she was about to commit suttee out of sheer grief. 

People flocked to her, cooed over her and catered to her every wish. It was almost as if the person being buried was a secondary part of the show. 

I knew how that was affecting Janey so, although I am not a big fan of humanity and "those people" in particular, I spent a lot of time buffering her from her own relatives, just to keep her from killing one of them. 

She wept and sniffled of course. But she had clearly made up her mind to honor her father with the pride and resolution that he deserved. 

Needless to say, she was reaching new heights of personal respect in my book if that was even possible given how I already felt about her. 

The most uplifting part of the whole ordeal was her clearly visible "baby bump", which her relatives were having a hard time ignoring. Nonetheless they all managed to accomplish that task.

~

Janey

I was so mortified by the behavior of my own family, especially my mother, that I wanted to sink into the ground. Paul was a rock. He kept me from strangling anybody while seeming both respectful and witty and urbane at the same time. 

I was well into my second trimester by that point and little Helen, we knew for sure that it was a girl at that point, was kicking the daylights out of my insides. It was almost as if SHE was embarrassed by the outpouring of totally self-involved and self-centered emotion that she was awash in. 

We saw my father into the ground with the medals he had earned in Vietnam laying proudly on his coffin. We endured the well-wishers at the reception and then we were blessedly alone.

We drove back from Laurel Hill in a soft and gentle spring evening. We were both in a pensive mood and so when we let ourselves into the apartment neither of us wanted to talk. Paul took Zeus out for his daily constitutional. 

As Zeus walked by he said sincerely, "Mes condoléances", which was several notches above anything my family had expressed. 

I said, "Thank you for your sympathy soldier." I was alone for a while and I walked around the place just looking at things. 

It had all started here six years ago and it almost seemed like it had come full circle. The girl I was back then was entirely different now a wife and soon to be mother, married to the most spectacularly wonderful man in the world. 

Because I was the executor I knew from the lawyers that my father had bequeathed a small but adequate trust to my mother and the rest of his vast fortune to me. I was now almost as rich as Paul. I had wanted to break THAT news to him at some other opportune time, because it changed nothing. 

As the street lights came on outside of the windows of the apartment I could only think about the future. I knew that I would forever love Paul and Helen and even that mangy old reprobate Zeus and that whatever roadblocks were thrown in our way we would overcome them together. 

In the meantime there was a gesture that I had to make for myself.

~

Paul

Zeus finished his business and I demonstrated my "good citizenship" with the doggy scoop. He sniffed around a bit and I headed up the steps to "her" apartment. Because she had been living there when I first met her it has never seemed like "my" apartment. 

It wholly reflected the maturity and innate excellence of her taste and breeding. And I remembered wondering how a mere 23 year old girl could have such profound depth of character. 

Of course once I got to know her better I found that that had only scratched the surface. There was an infinite amount more about her that I had yet to discover. 

In many respects the impressions and joys of that day six years ago have never faded from consciousness. In fact, the romance of those early times when we were discovering each other has never ended, as it does with many couples. 

I had actually gained incalculably more insight into the depth and wisdom of her magnificent soul than I had that first day. But there was also a slight sense of unease floating around in my brain as I trudged back up the stairs. It was the thought of how close I had come to missing that opportunity. 

I remembered how I had marveled at the expensive steps and the wealth and taste of her apartment when I first laid eyes on it. I remembered her incredible beauty as I walked into the place for the first time. 

I opened the door and it was like some kind of insane flashback. There she was, as gorgeous as ever sitting in the same place in the same outfit. 

I got it immediately. She wanted to mark our new beginning by hearkening back to where it all began. I dropped the leash and in a daze I walked over to her. As I did she was talking to me, reminding me of that day. 

Without stopping I sat next to her, as I had that time, and took her into my arms. We fell backward into that spacious leather sofa as we had before. 

We kissed passionately and her robe came open revealing that spectacular body, with its huge tits and slight baby bump right between her fertile hipbones. That was the only new feature in that lush landscape.

She began to pant. I was breathing like I was in the middle of a marathon. We kissed again and I placed my hand on her massive right tit. The nipple was rock hard and extended almost a half inch. I could feel her heat and hunger. I reached down between her magnificent dancer's legs and found her very wet and ready. 

I adjusted her entire body so that she was fully on the couch and moved between her legs. She moaned loudly and her eyes flew open looking startled, as if I had never inserted myself into her before. Then her eyes rolled completely up into her head as I moved up into her heat not to be seen again until we had finished. 

I began to move in her and she fucked back with impatience, like she was already several minutes ahead of me arousal-wise. Perhaps she was thinking of the same things while I was gone. 

We built to a resounding, floor shaking rhythm that I was certain the people in the bar below would be able to hear. All of that time she was literally yelling, "Ahhhh, Ohhhhh, Ahhhh, Ohhhhh, Ahhhh, Ummmm, Ummmm, That's it, Fuck me! I love you! Fuck me!! I'm yours!! I'll always be yours!!" 

That went on for a much longer time than I could have thought possible and then the pressure was too much and I shot everything into her. She tensed every muscle in her body, including her pussy. Then she shrieked and spasmed so hard I had to restrain her body with my arms or she would have bucked herself off on the floor. 

Then she began to shake and quiver wildly and her breath came in explosive little gasps. 

It took me a while to corral all of the pieces of my consciousness but when I did I opened my eyes to see those intense hazel cat eyes looking at me, absolutely solemnly. 

I said, "It has been six years and it hasn't changed one day. I loved you then and I love you more now and I will always love you. This is the place where it all began but it was nothing more than the starting point for a journey that you and I will make together, hand-in-hand and step-by-step. 

"If you recall, I pledged to you that if you gave yourself to me you would never regret or doubt my commitment to you and I pledge that to you once more absolutely and forever." 

She smiled like the benevolent goddess that she is and kissed me with absolute tenderness. 

~

Janey

When he and Zeus reappeared I was sitting on the same couch in the same place that I had when I had proposed our marriage to him and I was wearing the same wrap. 

He came in the door with his buddy all full of doggy affability and literally dropped the leash on the floor. Zeus ambled past him toward his food bowl without giving either of us a second glance. 

He said, "What in the world!??" 

I said, "If you recall, I was sitting in this exact same spot wearing the exact same thing when this journey began." 

He actually got the same nonplused look on his face as he had that time. Then he came over to me. I had not been thinking about it but it suddenly hit me that I needed to reaffirm our commitment in a way that involved more than mere words. 

That is a woman thing that no man would understand. But the easiest way to translate it for their simple brains is that I needed him to "take" me and "claim" me as his in the most carnal way possible. 

And I needed him to do THAT immediately!! We kissed open mouthed and wildly passionate and he slid his hand under my wrap opening it. He began to manipulate my breast and the sensation made the ache even more for him. 

I could smell my own arousal. When he found me so wet and palpitatingly ready I told him in no uncertain terms what he needed to put in me and where he needed to put it. When he entered me I remember gasping loudly. The sensation was so intense that my eyes either closed or rolled up in my head, I can never tell. And we began the age old fucking motion. 

That built to a point where I could hear the couch, which is a very large and heavy piece of furniture, hopping around on the floor with loud bangs and booms. 

I didn't care what the people downstairs thought. This was me paying homage to our lives together. I screamed and howled and scratched. I told him over and over how much I was his. I wanted to hold him inside me and love him forever. 

But there was no way we could keep up that level of intensity. He came inside me with a huge, scorching blast that set me off in ways I have never experienced. It felt like every muscle in my body contracted and then I was throwing myself around under him totally uncontrolled. 




A Lifetime Romance Pt. 06



When we finished I was lying there quivering like I was freezing to death literally trying to get my breath back. It felt like somebody had punched me in the stomach. I was finally able to open my eyes and he was still coming back to me. 

I looked at him rather somberly because this was a serious female ritual. And he proceeded to tell me in great and loving terms how totally we were bonded forever, even hearkening back to his first pledge of commitment. I kissed him with a love I can still not express in words. 

~

Paul

Janey had our baby with the exact same grace and courage that she had shown in every other aspect of our life together. 

It was the middle of summer and she had gone from looking like a cat to looking like a cat that had just swallowed a watermelon. 

The doctors all told us that the baby was perfectly positioned and that it was as healthy as Janey was. 

Nonetheless, watching my normally feline mate waddling around under the burden of something that weighed close to a quarter of her own normal bodyweight was amusing. 

Of course, I was unable to express that amusement in any visible way because she would have killed me in an extremely painful and creative way if I had. 

I was in for the entire process in the birthing room. Janey was magnificent through all of the pain, refusing any kind of medication. 

She has the most womanly of bodies and sometimes the engineer in me gets off on side tracks about form and function. While she was enduring the pain and intense effort with her usual magnificent courage I was musing about how perfectly she was built to do this. 

Her superb muscles were working with the nurse midwife to ensure a smooth delivery. Her wide hips and powerful ass were moving the baby to its birth with relative effortlessness. Even as the contractions were making her cry out it was more like the cries a weightlifter would make in order to ensure optimum physical performance. 

Through the whole thing she held my hand clear eyed and in control with a look that plainly stated that she was doing this for both of us. I almost wept at her superb self-sacrifice. 

The baby was a girl. Her name was Helen. She was conceived in one of the most romantic spots on earth in a circumstance of total love. So I expected hers to be the beauty that would launch a thousand ships. 

Seeing her lying on Janey's chest after the birth I was thinking I might have underestimated the number of ships. She lay there wrapped in a little swaddling blanket crying softly, almost controlled. 

She was the perfect image of her glorious mother. Even though they are supposed to be blind at birth, she seemed to be looking at me as if she knew me already. I held out a finger to touch her and she extended a little hand and gripped the finger, holding it tightly while she became acquainted with her new world. 

The love I felt for her was inexpressible. The best I could do was weep for joy. I knew to the depth of my soul that I would give my life to protect her and make her life happy. But that is another story and it will be told in another book.