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Beauty and The Plug

By: OldSarge69



As always I need to thank my editor, BeachBaby179 for her many contributions to this story. She always cleans up my stories, fixing my errors and inconsistencies and making the story much better than it would otherwise have been. Thank you, BeachBaby179. 

*

"Now, I can't wait to take a shower," I thought to myself.

I had just finished mowing my yard, and the hot Georgia sun was blazing down. I had started about 9 am on this Saturday morning, and had just completed the front and back yard some three hours later. Altogether I had nearly three acres of yard to mow and once again thought maybe it was finally time to get a riding mower.

Or hire someone to mow like most of my neighbors did.

It's not that I couldn't afford to buy a mower, or hire someone, but I used the mowing as a form of exercise. I had spent three years in the Marine Corps, then got hurt in a stupid "training exercise." At least "training exercise" sounded better than what really happened, because what really happened what I was playing left field in a softball game and stepped into a hole where a sprinkler head was supposed to be.

Some idiot had taken the defective head out and forgotten to cover the hole over. When I went back to get a ball my foot landed in the hole and my knee bent in a way that knees aren't supposed to bend. Our company was playing for the base championship against the three-time defending champions.

I was the starting left fielder and batted third, and when I stepped into the hole we were leading 5-2. I had already hit two doubles and a triple and scored three times, and driven in the other two runs.

I ended up having two different surgeries on the knee, but the damage had already been done.

And yes, the important part is, we won. I still have my championship trophy and had been named Most Valuable Player for the tournament.

The Marine Corps offered, and I accepted, a 20 percent disability, which works out to about $250 a month in disability pay.

Yes, I had a limp, but not too bad, and yes the knee hurt at times, but at least I could usually tell when a bad storm was about to move in. Before any kind of really heavy thunderstorm the knee would really act up.

Every day I would ride my bike for a couple of miles to exercise the knee, then on alternate days I would also walk a couple of miles. I also had a fairly extensive home gym I would exercise in every day. I considered pushing the mower over three acres of yard as a form of exercise.

As I was putting the push mower away, I glanced at a thermometer I kept outside the garage. It was already 97 degrees and it was only noon. I knew the weather folks were calling for a high today of around 101 degrees.

"Time for that shower," I thought again, then as I was about to walk inside I heard a car coming up the driveway.

As soon as I saw the green Mini Cooper I knew it was Kim, my step-daughter's best friend.

I started smiling as soon as I saw the car because Kim was one of those bright, bubbly personalities whose usual smiles and good spirits simply brightened the day of anyone who saw her.

Not to mention that she was an absolute knock-out. I mean simply drop-dead gorgeous!

Megan, my step-daughter was very pretty, really beautiful in her own right and reminded me so much of her mother it sometimes hurt. Tall and naturally blonde, with a very slender figure, but Kim was almost the opposite. Kim was short (about 5'2"), dark haired and had an hour-glass figure. Kim literally had the face and body of a model.

When anyone saw the two of them together, they couldn't help but spend more time gazing at Kim. Megan was beautiful, but Kim was extraordinary.

I had taken my shirt off while cutting the grass so I quickly slipped it back on, then walked over to Kim's car.

I think this was the only time I had ever seen Kim when she wasn't smiling. In fact my first thought was she is just a few seconds away from crying.

"What's wrong, Kim, what's wrong?" I asked, very concerned.

"Mr. 'C', is Megan here?" she asked in what was almost a pleading voice.

"No, Kim, one of her friends called her early this morning and they went to Six Flags," I explained. Six Flags is an amusement park near Atlanta.

Kim started crying, with big tears rolling down her face.

"I kept calling her phone, hoping she was here, but she didn't answer," Kim said, between tears.

"Last time she went to Six Flags, she got soaked on Thunder River, and her phone got wet and was ruined," I told her, "so I am sure she probably left it in her car."

"Oh God, I don't know what to do," Kim wailed.

"What's wrong Kim, please tell me what's wrong and I'll try to help," I assured her.

"Oh, shit, Mr. 'C', I can't tell you, I can't tell anyone. I am so embarrassed," she finally said, crying even harder now. "The only one I could tell was Megan, and she isn't here."

By now I was really getting very concerned so I opened the door to the Mini Cooper and knelt down beside Kim. I reached out and put a hand on her shoulders and turned her until she was slightly facing me. From even that little body movement I could see Kim grimace.

"Look Kim, I know that you are Megan's best friend, but I hope that you consider me to be a friend as well," I began, and Kim almost smiled and nodded her head.

"You can tell me anything and I promise that I won't judge you, I won't yell at you, and if there is anything I can do to help . . . then I will do it. I promise. Now come on and get out of the car and come inside for a few minutes."

This time Kim did smile for a few seconds before her face turned beet red and she dropped her eyes.

"I can't get out of the car, and I can barely walk," she began, "My boyfriend . . ."

With those last two words, Kim's face turned even redder with embarrassment.

I think my face also started turning red, but in my case it was anger.

Megan had already told me more than I wanted to hear about Kim's new boyfriend. I knew Megan didn't like him. I mean really, really didn't like him. He was, according to Megan, very controlling and often verbally abusive to Kim.

Megan didn't think he had started becoming physically abusive yet, but from seeing the condition Kim was now in I couldn't help but think he must have really done something to hurt her pretty badly.

"Kim, I don't care what he's done, you just let me know and I promise he will never hurt you, never come near you again. Do you hear me?" I asked, and I guess she could hear my anger.

At first Kim just nodded, then started crying even harder before finally managing to choke out the words.

"This morning . . . this morning . . . he made me put something in my . . . my bottom. He told me I had to wear it all day. But . . . but now it is hurting so bad. I . . . I tried to get it out, but it hurts too much! I can barely walk, and sitting down and driving over here was like torture.

"Oh, God, Mr. 'C', what am I going to do?" she wailed.

Oh. My. God.

Was this incredibly beautiful young woman telling me she had a butt plug in her ass and it was stuck?

At that moment I was very glad she was looking down and not at my face. As hard as I tried to not let any emotion show she would probably still see a little grin at the thought of her "condition."

I mean, let's be honest. I try to be a thoughtful, kind, considerate guy, BUT . . . I'm still a guy.

In the last year and a half since my wife died, I have caught myself staring at my step-daughter's friend in something other than a simply friendly fashion. Hell, as long as I am being honest, I have caught myself staring at my step-daughter in something less than a fatherly way.

Right now, however, I knew Kim needed a friend. And I felt it was my duty to try to be that friend.

"Well, the first thing we are going to do is get you inside," I told her, as I undid Kim's seatbelt. Then I stood up and put one arm under her legs and the other behind her back, then carefully lifted her out of the Mini Cooper.

Despite my best effort I could both see and feel her wince and gasp in pain.

Once I had her out of the car I carried Kim through the garage, into the kitchen and into the living room.

I told her I would be as gentle as possible, but I was going to put her down on the couch.

She again cried out in pain as her bottom hit the couch and could see fresh tears in her eyes.

I couldn't help but wonder why it was so painful. I had never heard of a butt plug causing that much distress after it was inside.

I told her I would be right back, and went into my bathroom where I rummaged through my medicine cabinet for a minute. I finally found what I was looking for buried amongst the different medicines.

I walked back into the kitchen and poured some juice and then returned to the living room. I knelt beside the couch before asking.

"Kim, do you trust me?"

She nodded "Yes."

I handed her the juice and a pill.

"This is a muscle relaxer the doctor gave me last year, after I hurt my back. It is NOT a knockout pill, it is NOT a sleeping pill, and it will NOT make you unconscious.

"It will make you a little woozy, so you can't drive for at least eight or 10 hours, but you will be awake. If you trust me, then please take the pill."

See looked at the pill in her hand, then looked into my face for a minute before popping the pill in her mouth and drinking the juice.

"It will probably take about 30 minutes for the pill to start working, so I will just let you relax, okay?"

After she nodded that she understood I went back into my bathroom and got out a bottle of baby oil and started running warm water over it. Then I got some towels and washcloths and ran some hot water into a small bucket I got out of the garage.

After 30 minutes passed I grabbed everything and headed back upstairs.

Kim was still lying on the couch but now with her eyes closed.

"Kim?" I asked, and instantly her eyes opened.

"How do you feel?" I inquired.

"Well, like you said just a little woozy, but my butt (and her face turned red with embarrassment again), I mean my bottom does feel better. It doesn't hurt nearly as much. Just more uncomfortable now, rather than a sharp pain."

"Okay. Now before I start I have to ask you again. Do you trust me?"

This time Kim looked directly into my eyes before answering: "Completely."

"I have some baby oil that I warmed up and I am going to rub some on your bottom, trying to work it around the plug and hopefully that will make it easier to remove.

"I guess the easiest thing will be for you to lay down across my legs with your head and shoulders on the couch and your feet on the floor."

Soon, with only minimal discomfort, Kim was face down on the couch.

"I'll need to pull your dress up and take your panties off," I told her.

I could still see the side of her face and saw that Kim immediately turned bright red again.

"I . . . I'm not wearing any panties. Matt told me I couldn't wear any today. He said as soon as he got home he was going to bend me over the kitchen table, remove the plug and . . . and shove his dick in . . . in my ass."

I already didn't like Matt from what Megan had told me about how he treated Kim, and the more Kim revealed about his treatment of her made me start to really dislike him.

"Have you ever tried anal . . . I mean have you ever tried sex like that?" I asked, trying not to embarrass her any more than necessary.

Kim shook her head "No." 

"He tried a couple of nights ago, but I wasn't ready and it hurt so much I screamed. He really got mad and said the next time he didn't care how much I screamed. In fact, he said would probably put a gag in my mouth.

"I guess the next day he bought . . . that thing, and this morning he made me put in. It hurt so much I screamed again and nearly passed out but he just laughed at me."

I was really, really, really starting to dislike Matt by now.

I pulled her dress up, and like Kim said, she wasn't wearing any panties. I think I must have gasped a little when I saw her butt. It was truly one of the most beautiful and sexiest I had ever seen. Even with the white plug sticking out of her bottom.

I continued to pull the dress up and Kim lifted her hips slightly until the dress was bunched up about mid-back, almost to her bra which I noticed was bright red.

"I'm going to rub your back and legs a little before I start," I told her, "just try to relax as much as you can . . . and don't worry. I promise I will not take advantage of you."

"Okay, Mr. 'C'," she said. "I do trust you . . . completely."

I spent several minutes just massaging her back before beginning rubbing the backs of her thighs. Several times I heard Kim softly whisper, "That feels good."

I was still wearing the shorts I had on while mowing and began to feel something wet against my leg. And no, I knew it wasn't just some excess baby oil. I could actually smell her arousal.

After several more minutes of massaging her back and thighs I knew it was time to begin. By now Kim was actually rubbing herself against my leg.

I poured some baby oil around the plug, then began working my fingers under the plug until I was rubbing against her completely filled anus. I heard her moan as I moved the plug in order to work my fingers underneath.

"Am I hurting you Kim?" I asked.

At first, she didn't answer.

"Umm, no, not really," she finally said. "Your fingers actually feel . . . really good."

By now my leg was almost drenched in her juices.

"Okay, now I'm going to try to remove the plug," I warned her, "this might hurt for a moment."

"Wait, Mr. 'C'," she said. "Do you think you can rub me some more . . . below the plug . . . lower down?

"I . . . I . . . I think I could relax even more if you do."

With those words she actually spread her legs apart. I drizzled some baby oil on my fingers, then began caressing her inner thighs, from her knees all the way up to her vagina. I barely let my fingers touch the lips of her outer labia, but that was enough to elicit a gasp and Kim began rubbing herself even more against my thigh while spreading her legs even further apart.

"That feels so good," Kim gasped, whenever my fingers would brush against her opening.

I didn't really think I needed any more lubrication, but I drizzled some more baby oil on my fingers before I started lightly caressing the lips of her vagina.

"Oh, God, that feels so good," I heard Kim whisper, then as I began pushing a finger inside her she began repeating, "Yesss, Yesss, Yesss."

After gently finger fucking her with just one finger, I pushed a second finger inside her. I was amazed how tight she was, even with her natural lubrication and the benefit of the baby oil.

"Ohh, Ohh, Yes," she gasped, "Please don't stop, please don't stop. I can feel it, I'm so close."

I began moving both fingers in and out, while twisting those fingers from left to right.

By now Kim was just moaning non-stop, with her hips moving up and down and left and right as she rubbed herself against my thigh.

When I reached over with my other hand and began rubbing her clitoris . . . well that is all it took and she almost exploded.

"Ahhhhh," she softly screamed into the couch. The muscles of her vagina were alternately tightening and loosening on my fingers.

I stopped for a few minutes, allowing Kim to come back down, before once again fingering her with my two digits.

Within just a minute or two I could tell she was close again, so I again began rubbing her clitoris with my other hand.

Her second climax was even stronger as she again screamed against the couch.

I again stopped for a few minutes to allow Kim to recover, but this time she began gasping: "What are you doing to me? I've never felt ANYTHING like that before!"

I continued my actions with my fingers inside her vagina, and knew she was close to a third orgasm. When I began rubbing her clitoris she had her most powerful orgasm and screamed even louder.

I could feel the muscles of her vagina clamp down on my fingers and then loosen, clamp down and loosen. When I felt her muscles loosen again, I reached up and pulled the butt plug from her anus. It made a loud "pop" as I removed it.

"Ahhhhhhhh," she screamed again, but I could tell it wasn't from pain as she had a fourth orgasm.

Her puckered anus was gaping open, and I could see inside some angry red flesh.

As Kim lay across my lap gasping, I told her I needed to try to put some oil inside her.

I picked up the bottle of baby oil and just drizzled some directly inside her anus, then used a finger from my other hand to begin spreading the oil inside her.

As my finger began spreading the oil around inside her, Kim's hips began moving again. I still had my first two fingers deep inside her, so I began alternating. I would push my finger inside her anus while pulling the two fingers out of her vagina, then reverse the action.

It didn't take more than a couple of minutes before the walls of her anus were closing down around my single finger, then Kim had her fifth orgasm of the day.

This one was very gentle -- at least compared to the others, but strangely I felt in some ways it was the most satisfying to Kim.

When Kim started to try to get up, I told her "Not yet.

"I need to try to clean you up a little first," I advised her, then added with a big smile. "Right now you have enough baby oil on your bottom that if you tried to sit down, you would probably slide all the way outside and down the driveway."

She didn't say anything, but laughed, then started looking back at me in a way I found difficult to explain.

It was a look of exhaustion, total contentment, relaxation, joy and . . . lust?

"I trust you COMPLETELY, John," she said. This was the first time she had ever used my given name. Usually it was Mr. C, or sometimes Mr. Carpenter.

Then Kim gave me one of her thousand mega-watt smiles and added, "Anything you say . . . or want . . . John, ANYTHING you want. I trust you completely," before lying face down on the couch again.

At that particular moment I don't think there was anything . . . ANYTHING . . . I wanted more than to ditch my shorts and start making love to this beautiful young woman. She had already told me that I could do anything to her.

The fact of the matter is, after nearly 30 minutes with Kim laying across my lap and using my fingers to bring her to multiple orgasms I had perhaps the most raging hard-on I have ever had in my life.

I was so hard I was amazed it hadn't burst through my shorts, and I knew Kim could feel it pressing against her lower stomach.

Instead I grabbed a washcloth and dipped it into the bucket of hot water. Actually, after 30 minutes the water wasn't hot any longer, but was still warm. After wringing out the excess water I added a little soap and began washing her back and legs, where I had massaged the baby oil into her.

She almost immediately began softly sighing and I could both feel and see her rubbing herself against me.

When I washed between her butt cheeks and across her puckered anus I felt Kim tense up, then almost immediately relax again as she spread her legs even further apart.

"Anything . . . anything you want John," she repeated.

Oh God! Anything I wanted!

What I wanted was to bury my face between her legs, fill her sweet pussy with my tongue, lap her puckered anus, and then slam my dick into all three holes of this beautiful woman!

She had already given me permission to do all three things, and the most difficult thing I have ever done in my life was to ignore the beast within me, the beast that wanted me to take this woman and use her as my personal plaything.

My self-control was slipping away and I knew I was only minutes, probably seconds away from throwing her down on the couch and letting the beast take over.


Beauty and The Plug



Instead, I somehow rinsed off the cloth and began removing the soap from her incredibly beautiful back, butt and thighs.

The entire time she continued to sigh and moan. She would stop occasionally and repeat, "Anything you want, John, ANYTHING."

That really wasn't helping my self-control.

Once I had most of the baby oil and soap off, I just continued to stare at this young girl's butt, completely exposed to me. It was the most perfect butt I had ever seen, and I knew I could make it mine if I now wanted.

Finally, I just shook my head and tried to speak. I was so horny it took me a couple of times just to be able to say anything.

"Now, Kim, I think you need to rest. Try to sleep."

She immediately turned around until her naked butt was in my lap, resting against my raging erection. I again could see her quick grimace when her abused butt brushed up against me.

As I looked into her face I could again see mixed emotions in her eyes. Lust? Definitely. But I could also see how tired she was. I could tell she was exhausted. The combination of the extreme pain she had suffered all morning, the effects of the prolonged massage, the multiple orgasms she had already had, plus the muscle relaxer pills had her eyes drooping.

"What about you John?" she asked, then smiled shyly. "I can feel (and she wiggled against me) that you need some . . . some relief too."

"Kim, I told you I would not take advantage of you. Actually I already feel I have taken advantage of you, but right now you need to rest, take a nap. If you still feel the same way in a couple of hours, then we can see where the rest of the afternoon takes us.

"I don't want you to feel you 'owe' me something. Friends don't take advantage of friends.

"Let's just see what the rest of the day brings, but right now I want you to sleep. Sleep, my beautiful young friend."

Kim continued to stare into my eyes, and I could see the change in emotions. Yes, there was still some lust mixed in with the exhaustion, but I could also see amazement that I was turning down her offer. It was a situation that could easily have provoked anger, but I sensed no anger, rather something that looked like . . . a deeper emotion?

After several minutes, Kim leaned over and put her head against my chest.

"Okay, John, I am suddenly very, very tired," she said, then leaned back until she was looking into my eyes again. "But after I wake up . . . you are going DOWN, Mister."

Then she shyly laughed, "Actually, after I wake up . . . I am going down. Down on you! And that is just for starters."

Kim put her head back against my shoulders and within just a few minutes was sound asleep.

I continued to hold this beautiful young woman for several more minutes, and kept hearing in my mind her final sleep-filled words to me, whispered softly, just before oblivion claimed her.

"I love you John," was her final comment to me.

I finally eased her down on her back on the couch. Her dress was still pulled up above her hips and I could now see all of her lower body. I already knew, from having massaged her clit, that she was completely smooth, but to now see her nakedness in front of me caused another jolt through my penis.

I could already have been inside her I thought to myself. In fact, I could take her now and I knew she wouldn't have complained.

Instead, I pulled the dress down, then went and found a small blanket and covered her up.

I know that most guys reading this would be thinking, "What a wuss!"

"He could have had a fantastic piece of pussy, and a fantastic piece of ass, and he turned it down," would probably be what they are thinking.

For most of the women reading this, they would probably be thinking "What a gentleman. How noble not to take advantage of a woman at a time like this."

Hell -- you are both wrong.

It didn't have anything to do with being a wuss, or being a gentleman or being noble.

Even now, some 10 minutes after Kim was asleep, I still had the hardest hard-on I think I have ever had.

Earlier I said that I had stared at Kim when she came over to visit Megan. Actually that might not be strong enough a word.

I have a heated, in-ground pool behind the house. My wife died about a year and a half ago, and for the first year Kim and Megan both moved in after they graduated from college. Kim moved out about six months ago, but during that first year the two beautiful girls had used the pool every day -- summer or winter. Megan still lived in the house with me.

They both wore bikinis that would be barely legal on a public beach. And some that probably would be illegal.

The fact is . . . I didn't just stare at Kim (and yes, Megan too). I admit I lusted after them both. And would sometimes fantasize as well.

I have lost count of the number of times I would be fantasizing about one or the other . . . sometimes both . . . and wake up from a wet dream and have to change my underwear.

Kim still came over to the house two or three times a week -- and she and Megan still used the pool every time she came over.

Having lusted after Kim for so long, and today have given her a massage and using my fingers in both her pussy and butt to give her multiple orgasms, I knew that if Kim had even touched me once . . . I would probably have cum immediately. I was that turned on. When she wiggled her butt against me it was all I could do to hold off.

Cumming all over her, 10 seconds after she touched me? That was my fear today. 

When . . . or if . . . but, based on comments to me just now, probably when we made love, I wanted it to last longer than 10 seconds.

I immediately headed for my shower since I was still sweaty and stinky from having mowed my lawn that morning, and while in the shower I took care of the immediate problem I had. Just thinking about Kim while in the shower . . . Wow! Yes, I lasted a little longer than 10 seconds . . . but not by much.

After the shower I went back into the living room and grabbed the towels, washcloths, bucket of now cold water . . . and the butt plug. I admit I was very curious why the plug had caused Kim such extreme pain.

After cleaning and examining the plug I understood. And was filled with rage. If I could have gotten my hands on Kim's boyfriend at that moment . . . I could easily have killed him with my bare hands.

I don't think I have ever been so mad in my life before.

I knew I had to calm down. I had already put on a nice pair of shorts and a t-shirt, so I grabbed a beer from the refrigerator and tried to make myself calm down. First, however, I slipped the butt plug into one of the pockets of the cargo shorts.

I suppose at some point I need to introduce myself. I mean you already know my name, John Carpenter, and that I spent three years in the Marines, but there is a lot more to tell.

First though, you need to understand a couple of things about me and my family. You might want to write some of this down -- there may be a test later.

Some people simply are genetically predisposed to grey hair. That is definitely the truth in my family. By the time each of my older brothers graduated from their respective high schools they were already losing some hair on top, and most of what was left was turning grey.

That also applies to me. There is nothing I could do about it, and the thought of coloring my hair was ridiculous.

The second thing you need to know about my family is that my two older brothers are 15 and 10 years older than I am.

My childhood nickname, given to me by my oldest brother was "Dent." That is short for accident, and a name I really hated.

My mother always said I wasn't an accident. I might have been unplanned, but the truly nicest things in life are the ones that are complete surprises. So stuff it up your ass, Jack and Sam!

When I was born, my father was 45, and my mother was 38. Again, just as in the case of my premature greying hair, my father's age will come into play in a few minutes.

My great-grandfather started Carpenter Printing Company in Marietta, Georgia on October 29, 1929. That date also happens to coincide with the beginning of The Great Depression.

Somehow he kept the business going, and by the time the country was recovering in 1941 the business was becoming moderately successful.

Real success began after World War II started. It didn't take long for the military to realize they needed more plants dedicated to building bombers, so when Bell Industries built a plant in Marietta (The Bell Bomber plant which was the forerunner of the massive Lockheed plant), my great-grandfather was one of the few printers in the area capable of handling all their printing.

My grandfather had joined the Marines on December 8, 1941 (the day after the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor), and after the war began working at the printing company. My father had received his draft notice during the Vietnam War, and instead enlisted in the Marines.

After serving two tours in 'Nam, he also returned home and joined the family business.

By the time both of my brothers graduated from high school, it was obvious neither was interested in printing as a way of making a living.

Jack is now a very successful attorney, and Sam is a surgeon. From my earlier comments you might have the impression the three of us didn't get along. Nothing could be further from the truth. We tease each other non-stop. I call Jack an "ambulance-chaser" and say he is the "black sheep" of the family because he is an attorney. Sam is "the local butcher." And yes, both still call me "Dent."

All three of us know, however, that the others would do anything for each other.

I was the only one interested in the printing company. In fact I loved everything about printing.

Everyone knew that I would be the fourth-generation Carpenter to take over the business.

First though, I wanted to spend a few years in the military, and since it was by now almost a family tradition, I enlisted in the Marines. A large part of the reason I joined the military was because neither of my older brothers had. If it wasn't good enough for them, then it WAS good enough for me.

After I received my medical discharge from the Marines, I joined the family business as well. In point of fact, I had literally grown up in the business and could run any of the presses well before my teenage years.

A few months after my discharge I was at work when this really attractive woman stopped by to get some business cards printed. Back then, it was only a few months after one of the surgeries on my knee, so I was using a cane to get around.

I took the order, then told her they would be ready the following Monday (she brought the order in on Thursday).

She immediately said she needed the cards by that afternoon, or at the latest, very early the next morning since she had to go out of town on a business meeting. I then explained that we weren't a quick copy place, and that it would take at least a couple of days.

I have to admit that I was more than just a little smitten with this young lady. I was guessing she was a couple of years older than me, but didn't think that would really matter.

When she offered to pay double, I made a deal with her. If . . . IF . . . I could have the cards printed by that afternoon, then she agreed to go out with me that night.

We actually flirted with each other the entire time she was in the printing company.

When she came back, the cards were ready and Mary and I went to a very nice restaurant that night. I found out that Mary was a sales rep with a large pharmaceutical company. She had been with the company two years.

I was doing the math in my head. I knew she had graduated from Georgia Tech, so that would have made her about 22 when she graduated. Two years with the drug company, so now she would be 24. Perfect. I was 22, but because of the grey and thinning hair most people thought I was much older than that.

I am sure the cane I was then using probably added some to my perceived age.

During the course of our conversation at the printing company we had already exchanged names, and when I told her mine, she asked if I owned the company.

I had explained that my great-grandfather had started the company, then my grandfather ran it, and after him, my father. I also told her that Dad had already reached retirement age and although he still came in a couple of days a week, I was now running the business.

I really didn't think about the fact that Mary might also be doing some mental math in her head as well, trying to guess how old I was.

We had a great time at dinner, and we actually kissed. I mean it was just barely touching our lips together, but it was wonderful.

The following Tuesday (after she was back from her weekend business trip) we had dinner again, and this time we kissed a little longer, before parting for the evening.

During the first two dates, she had insisted on meeting at the restaurant, and I really didn't think anything about it.

During our third dinner date (on Thursday of that week), I could tell something was bothering her.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"I haven't been completely honest John," she answered.

"The fact is, I really like you, but was afraid to tell you the truth. Usually, anytime I tell a guy that I am a single mom, they panic and start running," she said, almost in tears. "I have a daughter."

I immediately reached over and took both her hands in mine.

"You don't ever have to worry about my running, Mary," I assured her. "As you said, the fact is I really, really like you too.

"In fact, I'll prove to you that I'll never run," I added, then reached down to where my cane was lying on the floor. Then I handed her my cane.

"See, now I can't run even if I wanted to . . . and believe me, I don't want to."

Mary started laughing and crying. And that night we did a lot of kissing!

The next day (Friday), Mary called me at work and asked if I wanted to meet her daughter, Megan.

I, of course, said yes. I have had to meet a few parents in my time, but this was the first time I would ever have to meet a daughter. During my lunch break I actually drove over to Toys R Us, and picked up a small stuffed animal I thought would be appropriate for a young girl aged anywhere from two to possibly five years old.

Mary had never said, and I had forgotten to ask exactly how old her daughter was, but assuming Mary was two years older than me, and I am guessing had probably been in college when she had her, I came up with the first estimate of two or three. Yes, I might have been off a year, or even possibly two, but felt the small stuffed animal would still be appropriate even if she was as old as five.

Little did I know!!!!

Mary said the simplest thing would be for her to come by the printing company, and I could follow her in my vehicle.

When we drove up in her yard, I was a little surprised there were no other vehicles there.

Mary had mentioned that her mother stayed with Megan while Mary worked. I was soon to find out what she had actually said was that her mom stayed with Megan while Mary was working late, or out of town.

I know that some woman somewhere will immediately say this just proves that men don't really listen to women. Hey, I was a little distracted. Mary was about 5'7" and I guessed around 125 pounds. Very slim and slender, with long blonde hair and silver gray eyes with little gold flecks in them. The kind of eyes that seemed to be bottomless, that you could just fall into and never climb out again. Very, very distracting eyes.

"Are Megan and your mom not here yet?" I asked, when we both got out of our vehicles.

Mary looked very surprised, and said, "No, she only stays here if I am going to be out of town, or working very, very late. Other than that, Megan looks after herself."

Now I was the one who was very surprised. What kind of mom would let a two or three year old, even possibly a five year old stay by herself?

When we walked into the house, I got one of the biggest shocks of my life.

I was expecting a toddler . . . I got a teenager.

Well . . . technically I was to find out a 12-year-old, but close enough.

When I found out how old Megan was, I sort of just exploded at Mary with: "Good God, did YOU get pregnant when you were 12!"

Mary flushed red, then replied with some heat in her voice: "What on earth are you talking about? I had Megan when I was 20."

"Twenty? Twenty? That's impossible!" I answered back, a little testily. "I know you are a few years older than me, but that would make you 32!"

"Older than you? Older than you?" she shot back. "You are the one with grey hair and you said your father had already reached retirement age. That should make you in your late 30s or early 40s."

"You thought I was in my late 30s??? Or even worse, early 40s???" I answered, much quieter than before. "Oh crap Mary. I thought you were around 24 or 25. I mean you said you had worked for your company two years, and I assumed you had probably just graduated from college which, I thought, would make you 24 or 25. I also guessed Megan would be two or three."

"Yes, I have worked for my present company two years. I worked for my former company eight years before that. Uhh, just how old are you John?" Mary asked, very quietly also.

"Well, I'm 22," I finally answered, and Mary's face turned white as if she had seen a ghost.

The entire time we had been talking, Megan's head was snapping back and forth between us, almost like she was watching a tennis match.

I heard this unusual noise, and when I turned to look at Megan she was laughing so hard she was doubled over.

Mary and I just stared at her, until she had finally recovered enough to talk.

"You thought I was two or three, and you thought Mom was 24 or 25," she said, beginning to laugh again, "and Mom thought you were in your late 30s, but actually you are just 22. You both are NUTS! The two of you are better than any comedy on television."

The complete absurdity of the situation finally hit Mary and me and the next thing we knew we were laughing our heads off as well.

"Oh, I can't wait to tell my friends my mom is dating, and probably making out with someone 10 years younger than she is," Megan said.

"Megan Elizabeth Smith," Mary warned her daughter, before blurting out "if you even tell a single soul that I've dated or kissed a guy 10 years younger than me you will be grounded until you are 21!"

"So you have kissed?" Megan asked, starting to laugh again. "Way to go Mom! I didn't think you had kissed anyone this century."

Now I was the one who was almost bent double with laughter as Mary flushed bright red again and glared harder and harder at me.

"Who I kiss, or in what century I have kissed them is none of your business Megan," she began before turning to me. "And I seriously suggest you stop laughing NOW, unless you want me to turn you over my knee and give you a spanking -- child!"

"Well," I answered, wiping the tears from my eyes, "my parents always said I should listen to and respect my elders, so Yes Ma'am."

That REALLY earned me a glare from Mary, but Megan was now almost convulsing with laughter.

"Yes Ma'am, yes Ma'am," she chortled.

Mary was now glaring at both of us.

"You know, depending on how this first meeting went, I was going to suggest we all go out to a nice Italian restaurant tonight," she said. "Now, since both of you are acting like you are about eight years old maybe we should go to Chuck E Cheese?"

And that is where we ended up, and all three of us spent hours playing the different games and earning tickets from those games which we used to buy Megan a very large stuffed animal. And more than once or twice that night Megan caught Mary and me exchanging a quick kiss.

And more than once or twice Megan gave me a hug, and even an occasional kiss on the cheek. When we weren't playing games, it would be difficult to say which one I was holding hands with the most.




Beauty and The Plug



It was just about the most enjoyable "date" I had ever had. I knew both Mary and Megan had also enjoyed themselves.

We stayed until they closed, and Megan fell asleep in the back seat. Once we arrived back at Mary's house, I carried Megan inside where she woke up again.

Megan put both arms around my neck and gave me a big hug and kiss on the cheek, then kissed her mom before whispering something in Mary's ear.

Mary immediately turned bright red again and wouldn't even look at me.

"What?" I finally asked, after Megan went to bed. By now we were both sitting on the couch in her living room.

Mary turned even redder, before telling me what Megan said.

"Megan said . . . she said it's okay with her if you want to spend the night," Mary said, adding that "I really need to practice my kissing."

Then Mary leaned over to me and we started practicing. At first on the couch, then later in Mary's bedroom . . . and we pretty much practiced all night.

That began the happiest 10 years of my life. Within three months Mary and I were married and I moved into her house.

Professionally during that 10 year period when I began running the business, Carpenter Printing went from a roughly $1 million a year printing company to over $10 million. Mary became the number one sales person for her company and was earning well over half-a-million a year. I was earning even more.

We sold her house, and then bought a much larger one in one of the really nice and exclusive areas of Atlanta.

Megan enrolled at Georgia Tech, like her mom, and like her mom was going to earn a degree in chemical engineering. Kim, Megan's best friend, practically lived at our house being there nearly every day, and frequently staying overnight. I knew Kim was having some issues with her step-father, and both Mary and I told her she was welcome to stay as long as she needed.

Kim also enrolled at Georgia Tech, after earning a full academic scholarship, but was getting a degree in business management. Kim had also been modeling professionally since she was 10.

I truly didn't know it was possible to love anyone as much as I loved Mary. And somehow that love just seemed to continue to grow. We practiced kissing A LOT!

Until the February of Megan's senior year of college when Mary went in for a routine mammogram.

They found a lump in her breast. A radical double mastectomy, followed by chemo and radiation didn't even slow down the spread of cancer. By the time they found the lump, the cancer had already metastasized, or spread to her lymph glands, her lungs and bones.

Within six weeks, my partner, the love of my life, my friend, my wife, my EVERYTHING was gone.

To say I was devastated would be a huge understatement. I simply didn't have the desire to even get out of bed most mornings after Mary's death.

Mary had died in mid-April, and after Megan and Kim graduated from Georgia Tech in May, they both surprised me when they announced they were moving in to my house.

I don't want to sound overly dramatic by saying having the two girls at home saved my life -- I mean I wasn't suicidal or anything -- but they did give me a reason to start functioning again.

I began going back to work and within a year I was back to my old self again . . . at least during the day. At night, I still missed Mary so much I would cry myself to sleep some nights.

After about a year, Kim moved in with a guy she had met through her modeling agency. That lasted for five months before they broke up and she moved in with another guy. This would be the Matt that Megan disliked so much.

Megan was now working full-time for a pharmaceutical company, but in research, not sales. She also continued to live at home.

Anyway, that brings you up to date with the events in my life. 

I had resigned myself to being alone. I hadn't even had a date, much less any sexual encounter with anyone since my wife died.

Some three hours had passed since I left Kim sleeping on my couch. I had finished making some preparations for a cookout later in the day and grabbed a book and sat down on my back veranda to read.

At least I told myself I was going to read. At one point I realized I had been staring at the same page for over 30 minutes -- and still had no idea what words were contained in the book. I just couldn't get Kim out of my mind.

The more I thought about this incredibly beautiful, and sexy young woman, the more trouble I had concentrating on the book.

It was at about that point that a pair of hands came around my head from behind and lightly pressed against my eyes.

"Guess who?" I heard Kim say in an incredibly sexy whisper.

I immediately started grinning.

"Hmmmm," I responded, "can you give me a hint?"

"A hint? You want a hint?" Kim asked, and I could hear the laughter in her voice. "Okay, try this. You already know I don't have any panties on, and now I have taken my bra off as well. Underneath this thin little ole dress I am completely naked."

I will be the first to admit I have a weird sense of humor. It has sometimes gotten me in trouble in the past when I'll just say the first thing that pops into my mind.

"Completely naked under your dress?" I responded. "Ohh, I know. It's Ralph, the old, fat, gay guy from next door."

Kim laughed out loud.

She then pulled my head back against her chest and told me to close my eyes. Kim then started rubbing her boobs against the sides of my face.

"Do these feel like old, fat, gay guy boobs?" she asked.

Kim then leaned down and stuck her tongue in my ear and started gently caressing me.

After a minute or two she stopped and asked, "Did that feel like an old, fat, gay guy's tongue?"

I still had my eyes closed but could hear Kim move in front of me.

Standing between my legs, she grabbed both hands and put them under her dress, cupping her bare buttocks.

"Does this feel like an old, fat, gay guy's butt?" she asked, and wiggled her behind against my hands.

Kim then sat in my lap and I could sense her leaning closer against me.

"And tell me, does this feel like an old, fat, gay guy's lips and tongue?"

Then Kim and I were kissing.

Oh My God!

There is something incredibly sensual about kissing someone for the very first time. Rubbing your tongue against her teeth, engaging in a mock tongue battle, exploring a mouth you've never kissed before.

Kim tasted so sweet, almost like a juicy peach.

I was almost completely enthralled with the experience. After kissing for a minute or two I reached up and gently cupped a breast in my hand. I could hear Kim give a little gasp when I touched her. Her nipple was already rock hard against the dress and when I began lightly rubbing her nipple with my thumb Kim began softly moaning.

Kim broke off the kiss long enough to say again, "Don't open your eyes," then reached down and pulled my t-shirt up and over my head. She immediately resumed kissing me but was now rubbing my chest with her hand.

After several more moments of increasingly passionate kissing, Kim again broke the kiss and started moving her tongue and lips down across my neck and to my chest.

"God, you are so beautiful," she whispered at one point, just before taking my nipple into her mouth and started sucking.

I have to admit I felt both surprise, and some pride in her comment.

No one had ever called me that before but I had at different points in my life been called other things that began with the letter "b". Namely, bastard or bitch, as in "son of a," but no one had ever called me beautiful before.

During the 10 years Mary and I were married, I had installed a rather extensive home gym so I could keep up with my exercises. One thing I had to do was keep exercising my knee and usually, late at night, Mary would join me in the gym.

Frequently those exercises both of us did would result in our making love in the gym, taking a shower together and making love again once we were in bed.

After her death, and after I rejoined the human race I began spending even more time in the gym. Indeed, many nights the only way I could sleep was to exercise myself into a state of exhaustion.

In the last year I had probably gained 15 or 20 pounds of muscle -- mostly in my upper chest and arms. Chiseled might not necessarily be the correct word, but it was probably close. I knew that while my overall conditioning was not anything close to what it had been while I had been active duty, before the injury, but I also knew I was actually even stronger.

By now Kim was sucking on my nipple so hard it was . . . almost painful . . . but intensely erotic.

Kim's technique was mind blowing. She would suck, then bite my nipple with her teeth until I almost had to tell her to stop, but would then lick it soothingly, followed by intense sucking. I never knew my nipples were so sensitive.

After 10 or 15 minutes of sucking first one, then the other nipple I felt Kim unbuckle my belt, then unsnap my shorts. When she grabbed the waistband I raised myself up off the chair and Kim slipped my shorts and underwear off.

When my again rock-hard penis sprang free I heard Kim gasp, "Oh God John, you are huge!"

In Marine Corps boot camp you are forced to take a shower with 40 or 50 other guys, and . . . sorry, you can't help but notice. I knew I was bigger than most. Not freakishly big, but both longer and thicker.

When I opened my eyes for the first time in probably 20 minutes Kim was kneeling between my legs, just staring at my penis which was jutting straight up.

Kim glanced up at me and when she saw me watching her, she smiled and leaned forward. She took the head of my penis into her mouth and sucked. At first softly, then a little harder and a little harder.

It was all I could do to keep myself under control. I was groaning almost non-stop and could barely resist just grabbing her head and forcing all of me deep inside her mouth.

Kim must have sensed how close I was because she finally pulled back, allowing my penis to escape her velvety smooth mouth.

"Come and lay down beside me John," she said with a smile, patting the tile of the veranda.

I immediately got off the chair and knelt down beside Kim. I grabbed her face between my hands and we resumed kissing until she began pushing me over on my back.

I gasped as I felt the cold tile of the veranda against my overheated back, then gasped again as Kim began licking my shaft with her tongue.

"I can't believe how big you are John," she whispered, in between licking up one side of my penis and down the other. Once my penis was covered in her saliva Kim began licking lower down until she could take one ball at a time into her mouth.

By this point I was almost a basket case. I wasn't sure if any of the neighbors could see us, and I didn't care. My entire life revolved around the truly incredible sensations Kim's mouth and tongue were provoking from me.

With one of my balls inside her mouth, Kim began pushing my legs back against my chest. I didn't understand why until she released my ball from her mouth, then started licking even lower.

Her tongue was now softly caressing my anus.

I gasped out loud, and tried to push her away.

"Oh God, Kim," I gasped, "If you keep doing that I'm going to come all over you."

Kim stopped and then smiled again.

"Anytime you want to come all over me John, you can. Except right now I want you to come in my mouth."

Kim put one finger inside her mouth and once it was wet she leaned down again and took the head of my penis inside her mouth. At the same time she pushed her salvia-covered finger deep into my butt.

The double sensation was simply overwhelming. I think I groaned, I roared, I cried out, I may even have shouted. All I knew for sure was I was shooting ropes and ropes of cum deep inside her mouth and Kim was swallowing as fast as I was shooting.

I don't ever remember cumming that hard and for that long. Even after I finished Kim continued to gently suck and lick my now softening penis.

Finally she stretched out beside me and put her head on my shoulder. I tried to kiss her but Kim turned her head away. At least until I put my hand behind her head and forced her lips against mine. I could tell Kim was surprised, but my tongue was soon deep in her mouth and I could taste myself inside her.

After kissing for several more minutes we finally stopped as Kim leaned up on one elbow and gazed deeply into my eyes.

"I bet your old, fat gay neighbor couldn't do that," she said with a big mischievous smile. "Or at least I don't want to hear about it if he does."

I reached down and swatted her butt before remembering about the plug and how much pain Kim had been in before.

"Oh, I'm sorry Kim, I forgot about . . . you know. How do you feel now?" I asked as my hand began softly caressing her bottom.

"A little sore," she admitted with a blush then smiled, "but right now other parts of me feel better than I have ever been in my life."

"Well I think we need to see if we can make those other parts feel even better," I suggested. "Now I want to make love to you Kim."

"Oh Yes, please make love to me John," Kim said with a smile big enough to have lit up all of Georgia, "make love to me now."

Then she added something under her breath, so softly I almost couldn't hear it, and wasn't even sure if that was what she actually said, "I've waited so many years to hear those words."

Hindsight, they say, is always perfect. I wish that I had stopped and asked Kim what she said, and why. Combined with her earlier words when she was falling asleep, again in a whisper, "I love you John," perhaps I would have handled things differently. Perhaps I would not have felt so personally guilty for being responsible for what was to happen to her later in the day.

And perhaps Kim wouldn't have been first severely beaten, then nearly killed.

Unfortunately I didn't stop. I didn't ask Kim to repeat her words, we didn't have the chance to (at that point) discuss how Kim felt about me, and apparently had for years.

I know there are probably some ladies out there who will again make the comment, "Typical male. Men never listen to women."

My only defense, I admit, is pretty lame. True, yes, but still pretty lame. Hey, I was distracted. Kim had just given me the most mind-blowing oral sex I had ever experienced and now all I was thinking about was returning the favor, and seeing how many orgasms I could coax out of her body.

Yes, ladies, I admit it. I was thinking with the little head, not the big head.

Anyway, after I told her I wanted to make love to her, Kim jumped up and I began the sometimes laborious process of getting up myself. Because of the knee it wasn't always that easy for me to regain my feet. I actually had to pull the chair over and use it to provide an assist.

Once I was up, however, Kim threw herself into my arms and we began kissing before I bent over and scooped her up and carried her to my bedroom.

All I could think about was that she was totally naked under that thin dress and I could see her erect nipples poking through the fabric.

We kissed the entire length of the house until I reached my bedroom. I opened the door, stepped inside and put Kim back on her feet before reaching down to grab the hem of her dress then pulled it off over her head.

I gasped when I saw Kim standing in front of me, totally naked. I have already said Kim was about 5'2" but really haven't described her much, beyond that.

I had heard enough of different conversations between Megan and Kim to know Kim's measurements were 34-22-34, but that doesn't even come close to describing how perfect her body was.

Her breasts were full and at least a "C" cup. Even without a bra there was no sag. Her nipples were long, and I could see they were already hard. Because of her part-time modeling career Kim worked out every day and her stomach was six-pack hard. Her hips were wide and full and her legs were actually short, but beautifully muscled.

I'm 6'2" and weigh about 195 with very large hands but perhaps surprisingly thin fingers. My mother would sometimes say I had the fingers of a pianist. I could just about have encircled Kim's waist with my outstretched fingers, and the fingers would almost join. I know, because I later tried it.

I spent several minutes just worshipping her perfect body with my eyes. Kim finally smiled, walked over to me, put her arms around my neck and brought my lips down to meet hers.

As my arms went around her, Kim jumped up and wrapped her legs around my back.

I can't tell you how long we kissed like that before Kim finally broke the kiss and said, "Now, John, please make love to me."

I walked over to the bed and gently placed Kim down before joining her on the bed. I again had to just stop and admire this incredibly beautiful woman. Then we started kissing again.

When I laid down beside her Kim's left arm was under my side and she reached up to hold me tight. The fingers of my left hand and the fingers of Kim's right hand entwined and both hands were beside Kim face.

This little vixen had nearly driven me out of my mind earlier today with the way she had played with and teased my nipples, so now it was my turn.

We kissed for several minutes before I began leaving a trail of kisses down her neck, across her shoulders and finally down to those magnificent breasts. Kim was softly sighing and moaning and groaning the entire time.

When I reached her breasts, I was tempted to take a nipple into my mouth, but decided to tease her for a few minutes.

Instead I covered every square inch of her breasts with kisses, licks, bites and nibbles for at least 10 minutes.

Within just a minute or two Kim began struggling to get her right hand free but I was holding it down beside her head. Then she tried to shift her left arm out from under my body, but my weight was too much.

Both of her arms were completely immobilized. After driving her nearly crazy I started over, first with one breast, then the other.

By now every time I came near her blood-engorged nipples Kim would try to shift her upper body around, trying to make her nipple come into contact with my mouth.

I have never seen any woman's nipples are hard, as full, and as completely engorged as Kim's were now.

"Please, John, please, suck my nipples, please suck my nipples," she began begging.

I tortured her for another 15 or 20 minutes before finally relenting. By now Kim could barely talk, just beg "Please, please, please," every few minutes.

When I finally took a nipple inside my mouth and started sucking, Kim screamed and had an orgasm. I licked, I bit, and I sucked until Kim was almost incapable of making a sound. Then I shifted over to the other nipple and started on that one. 

She screamed again as another orgasm hit her.

I lost count of how many orgasms Kim had before I began trailing my tongue down across her sweat streaked stomach and lower abdomen. The salty sweat tasted like the finest champagne.

Once I reached her womanhood, I decided I had teased Kim enough for today and immediately thrust my tongue as deeply into her as I could.

Kim's hands came down and pressed my face even deeper into the soft folds of her delicious pussy. After eating her out, I began licking upward until my tongue reached her clitoris and as soon as I touched it, Kim came again.

I added first one, then a second and finally a third finger inside her while continuing to lick and suck on her labia and clitoris.

Again, I don't know how many times Kim came but finally I moved into position between her legs and began pressing my shaft inside her.

I have never felt anything hotter and tighter than her slick channel. I had barely gotten the head inside when Kim started moaning, "So big, God, so big."

Before I was half-way inside tears were streaming down her face and I actually became concerned that I was causing her too much pain.




Beauty and The Plug



When I said something about stopping though, Kim's eyes opened and she snarled at me, "If you stop now you bastard, I'll fucking kill you." She then flexed her lower body upward, forcing most of what was left deep inside her, eliciting another scream.

"Oh, God, you're splitting me apart," she screamed, "but it hurts so fucking good," before wrapping both legs around my back.

"Now FUCK ME, you beautiful son-of-a-bitch, FUCK ME, John, FUCK ME," she screamed.

So I did.

I mean I did wait and let her stretched vagina get used to me before pushing the final inch or so inside her.

I started very slowly, just pulling half-way out and then slowly pushing in again, amid a never-ending litany of moans, groans, gasps, screams and assorted four-letter expletives. Then I began slowly increasing my speed and force.

I had never heard anyone so . . . vocal . . . during sex.

I was actually wondering if the neighbors could hear and what they would think was going on.

Then my weird sense of humor almost got the best of me again and I began laughing.

"What are you laughing about, you bastard?" Kim asked, between gasps and moans.

"Just wondering if the old, fat gay guy is listening," I answered.

Kim smiled, then laughed, "I hope so. If he is, this is for him: FUCK ME JOHN, WITH YOUR MASSIVE DICK. FUCK ME, FUCK ME, FUCK ME."

So I did!

I thought I'd never cum as hard as I did when Kim and I had oral sex on the veranda. By the time I finally came inside Kim now (after she had numerous orgasms of her own), I knew I was wrong.

When I came in her mouth, it was almost like a practice session, and this was the real thing. We were both drenched in sweat and screaming by the time I finished cumming inside Kim.

I just rolled Kim over on top of me, with my dick still inside her.

Within just a few minutes Kim was asleep, and I wasn't far behind her.

Kim's final words, again whispered were, "I love you John. I always have."

Almost three hours later, as it was getting dark outside, I woke up to the most incredible feeling. I looked down and Kim was kneeling between my legs with my dick inside her mouth.

I immediately thought of everything that had happened today, from the time Kim drove up nearly crying, and knew I would never get enough of her; I wanted to make love to Kim over and over and over again.

I reached down and began caressing the sides of this incredible woman's face. She looked up and I could see the beautiful smile in her eyes.

I leaned my head back against the pillow and involuntarily my head began shifting left and right. I was just about to tell Kim that I loved her too.

The dying rays of the sun were streaming through the window of the bedroom and falling directly on the nightstand . . . illuminating the wedding photo of Mary and me.

Oh My God! What have I done? This was Mary's bed. This was my bed. This was OUR bed.

I felt a wave of horror and disgust sweep over me. How could I do this to Mary? To her memory? Mary used to call Kim "her other daughter," and now I had had sex with Kim.

The effect it had on my libido was immediate. My erection deflated instantly.

Kim looked up and started to ask, "What's wrong John?" but before the words were half out of her mouth she saw me staring at my wedding photo. And must have seen the look of disgust and horror on my face.

Believe me, the look of horror and disgust were not for Kim. At that moment I didn't feel Kim had done anything wrong. I was horrified and disgusted with myself. For allowing this to happen, for profaning our marriage bed.

Truly, I felt like I had taken advantage of an innocent girl. A girl who needed help, not the lecherous pawing of her body I had allowed to take place while removing the plug.

I almost felt like I had raped Kim earlier in the day. A young, trusting girl ("I trust you completely, John" she had said) who was 10 years younger than me, and my step-daughter's best friend.

"I trust you completely, John." The words kept reverberating through my head. "I trust you completely, John."

This was how I had repaid that trust! Using her body as my personal sex toy.

"I trust you completely, John."

I heard Kim gasp as she saw the look on my face, then felt her jump off the bed. She stopped and picked up her dress from the floor and ran out the door, but not before I saw the tears streaming down her face.

I couldn't move. All I could think about was how I had betrayed everyone. I had betrayed Mary. I had betrayed Megan, by having sex with her best friend. And most of all I had betrayed Kim. Kim, who needed a friend, not some perverted old bastard who couldn't control his animal instincts.

"I trust you completely, John."

It wasn't until I heard the front door slam that I realized Kim must have thought I was blaming her.

I jumped up and ran naked through the house and outside just in time to see Kim's Mini Cooper careening wildly back and forth down my driveway.

I ran back inside and to the veranda where I put on my shorts, shirt and sandals, then ran back through the house. I was just about to go outside when I heard that little sound cell phones make when you receive a text message.

I glanced over at the couch and saw Kim's phone. I could only guess she must have gotten her purse out of the Mini Cooper before coming out to the veranda earlier in the day. And had probably taken the phone out to check her messages. Personally, I hate cell phones but knew how young people were obsessed with them.

For a minute I somehow thought Kim was sending me a text. Don't ask how Kim could have sent ME a text on HER phone, when she didn't even have her phone. I wasn't exactly being very rational at the moment.

I ran over and checked the message. Luckily Kim's phone is not password protected.

The message was from Matt, the idiot boyfriend, and this is what I read: "I've been leaving you messages for three hours you bitch. When I find you I am really going to fuck you up."

"Oh God," I thought, "If Kim goes home she has no idea what is waiting for her."

I ran outside and jumped in my SUV and left rubber as I started down my driveway. Then I had to slam on my brakes, causing the SUV to slide sideways down the drive.

Shit! I didn't know where Kim lived.

I sometimes joke with customers at work that I have a mind like a steel-trap, then add the explanation "Rusty, closed and illegal in 32 states." It always elicits a laugh, but I really do have a good memory -- usually.

I know Megan has told me in the past . . . Oh, yes, Williams Avenue in Marietta. Damn, that avenue is at least 10 miles long. What was the street address? 3425? 2435? Damn, the clock is ticking and each minute is taking Kim closer and closer to a disaster.

Finally . . . finally my brain started working. I started making my way to Williams Avenue and called my personal secretary at home, praying she was there.

Debbie had been my personal secretary for the past 10 years, and for 25 years before that she had been my Dad's secretary. We would sometimes kid her that she had been my grandfather's secretary for 30 years before that.

Debbie looked like nothing more than a typical church lady. Sweet, little ole lady that wouldn't hurt a fly and never had an improper thought in her life.

Debbie, who was in her late 50s, actually could out-drink, out-cuss and probably out-fight any two sailors or Marines I had ever known.

She answered on the second ring.

"Thank God you're home Debbie!" I started. "I've got a real emergency, possibly even a matter of life and death."

"What's wrong, John?" she asked and I could hear the concern in her voice.

"I need you to grab every phone book you can find, search the Internet, call people, but I have to know the address for Kim Peterson. She's one of Megan's friends. She is in real trouble and doesn't know it yet. She's driving home and her boyfriend just left a message on her phone that he really going to fuck her up once he finds her."

"Okay, the address is 3425 Williams Avenue, Marietta, GA 30060."

I took the phone off my ear and held it in front of me for a minute.

"How? How? How in the name of all that's holy can you know that without looking it up?" I demanded.

"John, there are times when you are even more hopeless and helpless than your father ever was," she answered. "And BELIEVE me that is saying a LOT.

"Do you think all those invoices just magically print themselves? Do you think they just fold themselves up and put themselves in envelopes? Do you think the envelopes print the address by themselves and add postage and carry themselves to the post office?

"Is that what you think, you dumb-ass ex-Marine?" she said, adding, "Kim is one of our customers. We print her business cards for her modeling business."

"Thank you Debbie," I yelled. "Remind me to give you a big, sloppy wet kiss when I see you."

"Hmmmmpf," she muttered, "You couldn't handle me on the best day of your life.

"Now get busy kicking ass and taking names, Marine. And if you need any bodies disposed of, let me know. I have lots of friends."

While we were talking I had turned onto Williams Avenue and within just a couple of minutes I found 3425. I turned into the driveway and there was Kim's Mini Cooper, and behind it was an older model Honda.

I was just getting out of my SUV when I heard a scream coming from the house.

"Kim," I thought.

I ran across the yard. Well, ran as fast as I could with my bum knee, then up the steps. The front door was closed but when I tried the handle found it wasn't locked.

I slammed the door open and it probably only took a second to bang into the wall on the inside.

It sometimes is incredible how much detail you can take in, in less than a second.

Kim was lying across the couch.

Her dress had been ripped off and she was naked.

I could tell she was going to have a black eye.

Her mouth was bleeding from a busted lip.

There was also a large bruise on her upper cheek.

Her eyes were wide open and panic stricken.

Some guy had his hands wrapped around her throat and was choking her.

As the door slammed into the wall, his head jerked around and he yelled, "Who the fuck are you?"

I started walking slowly into the house.

"Let go of her you son-of-a-bitch," I ordered. "Or do you only beat up on little women?"

He jumped up and I saw him look up at my gray hair. Matt was several inches shorter then I am, but probably weighed about the same with wide shoulders and heavily muscled arms.

"Why don't you get the fuck out of here . . . Grandpa!" he yelled.

Then the dumb-ass make the second biggest mistake of his life.

The biggest mistake of his life was touching Kim.

The second biggest mistake of his life was when he tried to touch me. He took a swing at me, which I easily blocked, then drove my fist into his stomach.

As he doubled over, I grabbed the back of his shirt and the back of his belt and drove him face first into the nearby sheetrock wall. His head made a rather impressive hole in the wall.

I had not let go yet, so I spun him around and used his speed and momentum to launch him into the air where another wall, about 12 feet away, stopped his flight.

He collapsed onto the floor, out like a light.

I ran over to Kim and was almost afraid to touch her at first as I saw up close and personal just what the son-of-a-bitch had done to her. I could also clearly make out the bruises around her neck when he had been choking her. Another minute or two . . . another minute or two and Kim would have been dead.

I began crying and trying to tell Kim how sorry I was for driving her away, for putting her into the position of getting hurt and nearly killed.

And I kept repeating, over and over without even realizing what I was saying, "I love you Kim, I love you."

Then Kim had her arms around my neck, desperately hanging on and telling me it wasn't my fault, that I had saved her life.

"It's just . . . it's just that when I saw your face back at your place . . . the absolute disgust on your face . . . I thought you hated me," she began. "Part of me wanted to stay, but part of me wanted to run."

"Hate you? Oh, God Kim, I don't hate you. I love . . ." That was enough to stop me for a minute. Did I really tell Kim I loved her? Then as I realized just how right those words were, and that I had actually been saying it for several minutes, I said it again.

"I love you Kim Peterson. Do you hear me? I love you."

Then we were both crying.

Many minutes later we had recovered enough to begin thinking about the situation we now found ourselves in.

"You need to go to the hospital," I said, "and have your face taken care of, but first I guess we need to call the police and have them arrest Matt."

"I just can't believe Matt would do that to me," Kim said. "I mean, yes, he has sometimes been a little rough, but I can't believe he would deliberately try to hurt me like this."

That was when I remembered the plug.

"Kim, this wasn't the first time he has tried to deliberately hurt you," I said, then began explaining how I had cleaned the plug while she was sleeping.

I also realized I still had the plug in one of my lower pants pockets and pulled it out and began to explain.

"He had taken a knife or saw blade and cut these little v-shaped grooves all around the plug," I showed her. 

"The only reason for those is to deliberately cause pain, because he knew every time you moved even slightly, it would irritate the flesh."

As Kim realized what that meant, her eyes turned an even darker shade.

"First, I am going to get some clothes on," she said, "then I'm personally going to take care of that . . . asshole!" As she said that final word, I began to get worried. The look in her eyes and the expression on her face were starting to get scary.

I wound up carrying Matt into the bedroom and dumping him on the bed. While I was doing that Kim ran out to the garage and came back with rope and duct tape.

Then I was ordered out of the room.

Some 15 minutes later Kim's phone started beeping. It was still in my pocket. As I pulled it out, I noticed that the message was from . . . Matt?

When I began reading the message, I started smiling.

The message was addressed to all his friends, and basically said that today Matt had realized he didn't like women. In fact he hated women. He now realized that he liked guys. It went on to explain that a friend of his was going to tie him up in bed and put a butt plug in his ass. The front door was open, and the first friend to arrive at his house could remove the butt plug and put anything they wanted in his ass.

Oh, and before the friend left he was going to duct tape his mouth shut, so just ignore any attempted cries of help or pain. He really, really liked to be dominated, liked it rough and would really enjoy spanking as well.

And if his friends had any friends they wanted to invite . . . the more the merrier. The message also included the address.

Kim's phone began beeping again and now I was looking at pictures she had taken with Matt's phone. The viewpoints were from all three sides of the bed, showing Matt spread-eagled on his stomach and with the white butt plug shoved up his ass. There were even a couple of close-ups.

Kim had selected "all" on the phone, when it asked who to send the messages to, so every single one of Matt's friends would get the message and pictures.

The last thing Kim did was go to the kitchen and get a bucket of ice water and dump it over Matt to revive him. I could hear the muffled screams all the way in the living room

We ran out to my SUV and climbed in. We would pick up Kim's car later.

We had barely gotten on the highway when we saw a car slow down and turn in to Matt's driveway. Kim began laughing.

"I always thought that guy driving was secretly gay," she said. "And it looks like he brought a couple of friends with him."

Before we had gone another mile down the highway, Kim recognized another car belonging to one of Matt's friends. It was also full of guys. Some of them really BIG guys. We later heard that Matt moved to San Francisco where he changed his name to Mattie and really embraced a new lifestyle.

Kim refused to go to the hospital since such an obvious case of abuse would require a police report and investigation. After what she had done to Matt, she wanted to stay as far away from the police as she could.

I did take her to Debbie's house and Debbie called a doctor she sometimes dated. He made a house call and at first I thought he was going to try to deck me, thinking I had hurt Kim.

Kim explained everything to Debbie and the doctor, then showed them the message and pictures. Both were laughing.

While Kim was being treated, Megan sent me a text message saying they were just leaving Six Flags and she was going to spend the night at her friend's house.

She also sent a text to Kim, very worried about all the voice mails and text messages she found when they left Six Flags.

Kim told her everything was fine now, and she would tell her more tomorrow.

Kim and I finally got back to my house at about midnight. Even with the pain pills the doctor had given her, Kim was too keyed up to sleep so we wound up talking all night.

"I have loved you for years," Kim said, "Did you know that?"

I had to admit that I didn't.

Megan and Kim had been friends for years, even before Mary and I married.

"Did you ever notice how if Megan and I were in the kitchen and you walked in, I would go to the living room?" she asked.

"Yes," I said, "and if I then walked in the living room you would go upstairs to Megan's room."

"I kept waiting for you to reveal who you really are," she said. "I kept waiting for you to try to do something to me or Megan."

When I asked what she was talking about, Kim said she was going to tell me something she had never told anyone, not even her best friend Megan.

"My step-father raped me when I was 11," she said as she began to cry. "My mother was passed out drunk, he was drunk too but he came into my room and raped me."

We were already sitting side by side on the couch . . . yes, THE couch, but now I picked up Kim and held her in my arms.

"That's when I started spending so much time at Megan's, even sleeping over as often as I could. But some nights I still had to go home . . . and for three years I was raped repeatedly."

"Oh God, Kim, I am so sorry," I said and now I was beginning to cry as well. "I never knew, never suspected or I would have put a stop to it."

"I know that now," Kim said, "but back then I didn't. I was terrified. I was afraid of him . . . and I was afraid of you.

"I kept waiting to see the real you, the rapist, but all I ever saw was someone who obviously adored Mary and treated Megan, not as an unwanted step-daughter but as his own daughter.

"For nearly three years I was afraid of you, then when I finally realized I WAS seeing the real you . . . someone so gentle, so sweet, so tender with his wife and daughter . . . then I started hating you.

"Why couldn't you be MY step-father? That didn't last long. That changed the night you gave me a ride home when my step-father had his heart attack."

I remembered. Kim's mother called well after midnight and said her husband was in the hospital and asked me to take Kim home to be with her. I also knew he never recovered and had died in the hospital about a month later.

"Just as you pulled into my driveway you stopped the car and turned off the headlights and said we needed to talk. I . . . I . . . thought you were going to rape me then, that you were no different after all.

"But instead you started talking about my grades in school, and how you knew how smart I was because you had listened to me talk and you saw some of the books I read.




Beauty and The Plug



"Then you looked at me directly and said . . . God I remember every word just like it was yesterday . . . 'Kim, you are beautiful, but a philosopher named Shubbam Joshi once wrote, 'Beauty without intelligence is a masterpiece painted on a napkin.' I can hear your voice so clearly, even now. Then you said, 'Kim, you have a brain that is just as beautiful as, perhaps even more beautiful than what is on the outside.'

Kim was crying again. 

"No one . . . I mean no one . . . had EVER said anything about my brain. All anyone ever saw was at first my face, and later my face and this body. That was just before my 15th birthday and I was a mostly "C" student.

"One year later I was making straight "As" and I remember how proud you were of me. You and Mary.

"Then you bought me that solid gold bracelet for my 16th birthday."

I remembered. I talked with Mary several times about the bracelet. It was really far too expensive a present for us to be giving her, but I wanted something to let Kim to know how proud we were of her grades. Even though it had been my idea at first, Mary was actually the one who really wanted Kim to have it. I was concerned people would get the wrong idea. Mary, as she usually did, won that argument.

"On the back side was engraved that quote, 'Beauty without intelligence is a masterpiece painted on a napkin,' while on the front was engraved 'Kim -- Beauty with Intelligence.'

"I fell in love with you right then, John, and have loved you every second of every minute of every day of my life since then.

"But I knew it could never be. You were married to a woman I adored and who was like a second mother to me. Really, more like a first mother to me and someone I loved completely. And Megan was your daughter and my best friend.

"I had two choices. Either I could try to forget you by becoming a slut who would sleep with anyone, or . . ."

"Or, posting two perfect 4.0 grade point averages in high school," I finished for her, "then acing your Scholastic Aptitude Test. A perfect 2400."

"You believed in me John, when no one else did," Kim continued. "I received a full scholarship to Georgia Tech because you believed in me. You saw something in me that no one else ever had, and made me believe in myself.

"When Mary died . . . when Mary died I was devastated. Then one night I was lying in bed and it suddenly hit me that you were no longer off limits.

"I was totally disgusted with myself. That I could even think of having a relationship with you less than a week after Mary's death. That Mary's death could be my opportunity.

"Graduation was just a few months away and I had been applying for jobs in Georgia, but I switched and started looking for jobs as far away from you as I could.

"Did you know I was actually hired by a firm in San Diego?" she asked, and I shook my head "No."

"Then two weeks before graduation Megan called. She told me what a difficult time you were having and said she was going to move back in with you to take care of you. And she wanted me to move in permanently as well.

"I told her I couldn't, that I already had accepted a job in California.

"Then Megan told me that the only reason I was moving to California was because of guilt, to run away from my feelings for you.

"Megan told me she had known since I was 16 that I was in love with you. And not only did Megan know that, Mary knew it as well. That I was in love with her husband.

"Megan also said that neither she nor Mary were upset because not only did they both know what kind of person you were . . . they also knew what kind of person I was.

"I cried for hours that night, John," she said. "I thought I had been so clever, that no one could possibly know how I felt about you.

"I called the company in California and refused the job, then called Megan back and told her I would move in.

"For the first nearly three years I knew you, if I was in a room and you walked in I would leave. For the first three months after I moved in, if you were in a room and I walked in did you realize you would leave?"

I shook my head "No."

"Megan said that was because you were attracted to me, but refused to allow yourself to believe it. That's when Megan came up with her grand 'Master Plan.' She called it Operation Skin. We started wearing the skimpiest bikinis we could find and using the pool every single day -- summer or winter.

"God, I HATED that during the winter. I mean the pool was warm, but I nearly froze my ass off every time we would run from the house to the pool. And running back after we were wet was even worse," Kim laughed.

"After I turned 18 I began modeling lingerie and bikinis, but I never modeled anything half as skimpy as some of the outfits I wore for you.

"But it was like you didn't even see me. I couldn't get any reaction from you."

"Oh, God, Kim, believe me I noticed," I countered. "I lost count of the number of wet dreams I had about you.

"There was that one suit," I said, and just shook my head. "I swear I could see EVERYTHING it was so skimpy and tight."

Kim laughed.

"Which one?"

"It was pale pink," I said. "I fantasized about you in that bikini for a month."

"That wasn't a bikini," Kim laughed.

"What do you mean it wasn't a bikini," I asked.

"Megan spent six hours PAINTING that on me. I was totally naked," she said.

I just shook my head again, at the memory.

"I can't believe you are telling me Megan is okay with this. With us having a relationship," I said.

"Hell, not only is she okay with it," Kim said, "She kept saying she couldn't wait until she could start calling me 'Mom.' I nearly decked her the first time she said that.

"I tried John, I tried for a year and it was killing me, being there with you in the same house. But you never gave me any hint you were interested. You acted like you didn't even see me most of the time.

"Believe me, Kim, I saw you," I assured her. "But you were my daughter's best friend, and you were 10 years younger than me. I was just too wrapped up in my own grief."

"I know that now, but six months ago I had to get away," she said. "I moved in with the first guy to ask me. What a disaster that was, but I tried it for five months.

"Then I met Matt and he seemed so nice at first. I would never have believed anyone could change so much in a month.

"John, the last time my step-father raped me was just before I turned 15. I haven't had sex with a guy since then, not until I moved in with Jeff six months ago. Because you were the only man I had ever wanted.

"And until yesterday on your couch, I had never had an orgasm with a man. I never had an orgasm with either Jeff or Matt. I . . . I think that was part of Matt's problem. He knew he had never brought me to an orgasm. It think it really drove him over the edge, that he realized he would never be good enough for me."

Kim leaned up and kissed me, very gently because of the split lip.

"Now I have what I always wanted. And if it took a few bruises then I think it was well worth it."

By now the morning sun was just peeking through the windows of the bedroom. We had been up all night.

Kim snuggled against me with her head on my shoulder and an arm and leg thrown across my body.

Within just a few minutes her even breathing told me she was asleep and I think I wasn't very far behind her.

I woke up, as it turned out, nearly 12 hours later with both Kim and Megan jumping on the bed.

"Wake up old man," Megan shouted, "are you going to sleep your life away?"

"Yea, wake up old man," Kim echoed, "I have BIG plans for you the rest of the day."

Both girls were wearing bikinis. VERY revealing bikinis.

However, once I was finally able to stop staring at the awesome display of femininity around me and saw Kim's face I nearly started crying. Her black eye was spectacular, the split lip was swollen double size and the bruise on her cheek was livid. The bruises around her neck clearly stood out.

"Don't cry John," Kim said. "It looks a lot worse than it feels. And it was worth every bit of it just to sleep with you today."

"Yea, don't cry Daddy," Megan repeated. "Kim told me EVERYTHING that happened. You saved her life. Not to mention rocked her world! Several times apparently."

Kim and I both blushed.

"Did you . . . did you really tell Megan EVERYTHING?" I asked, remembering all that had happened on the couch, on the veranda and in bed yesterday.

Kim blushed even more.

"Well, we've always shared our secrets," Kim admitted.

I just shook my head at these two.

"Now we're going to go swimming for a while," Megan added. "Your breakfast, lunch and dinner is on the kitchen table."

Then Megan smiled.

"After you eat, why don't you join us? Join me and 'Mom' in the pool," she snickered, emphasizing the word mom.

"Megan," Kim began with a cautionary tone, "I've already told you. I am only three days older than you are. Don't call me that."

Megan looked at me and grinned, then repeated some of the first words she had heard me say many years earlier.

"Well, my parents always said I should listen to and be respectful to my elders," Megan smirked, "So, Yes Ma'am. Yes Ma'am."

Kim reached over and smacked Megan across her butt, not very hard of course.

"What are you supposed to do with these kids today," she deadpanned to me, then all three of us broke up laughing.

After I ate I joined them and we swam for a couple of hours before Megan went on upstairs to bed.

That left me and Kim alone.

"You need to get some rest," I told Kim.

"No," she countered with a smile, "What I need is you . . . inside me."

"Kim, I don't think that is a good idea right now," I tried to explain, "you are still hurting. Your black eye -- quite frankly -- looks awful, the bruise on your face is getting worse and your lip is swollen twice its normal size."

"All of that is even more reason for you to make love to me," she replied. "You need to take my mind off everything that happened."

"Look," I finally said, "I know your throat is hurting where Matt tried to choke you. I know it hurts to swallow, and I can only imagine what it going to feel like once you start screaming again."

The last I said with a huge smile and was rewarded with Kim blushing beet red. By now we were standing in the shallow end of the pool in water only about two feet deep.

"How do you know YOU aren't going to be the one screaming this time," Kim retorted.

We argued the wisdom of Kim having sex so soon after her injuries for several minutes.

In what, no doubt, was going to become a pattern . . . I lost. I actually lost when Kim took her bikini top off before we even got out of the pool.

In the midst of my totally compelling argument, based upon superior logic and concern for her long term well-being, Kim reached behind her and unsnapped her bikini top and freed her spectacular breasts. She threw the bikini top beside the pool, then reached over and pulled my swim shorts down.

I was already starting to get hard and Kim grabbed my penis, knelt down and start rubbing it between her breasts.

"Wouldn't you like to cum all over my breasts, John," the little vixen asked.

So much for logic. 

But at least I was determined to make love as gently as possible.

I quickly slipped my swim trunks back on (Megan was home after all), and carried Kim to my bedroom. Once we had dried off, Kim and I quickly jumped in bed.

This time I made sure her hands were not restrained since I did not want Kim to have to struggle like she had the first time, trying to get her hands free.

I quickly left a trail of kisses down across her throat and down her chest before sucking each nipple, one at a time, into my mouth. Kim's hands were cradling my head, holding me tightly against her while whispering softly, "harder, harder."

After making love to her magnificent breasts I kissed my way across her stomach and abdomen before plunging my tongue deep inside this lovely lady. Kim's hips began flexing against me, trying to draw me even deeper inside.

Within a few minutes she softly cried out as she had her first orgasm, then when I plunged two fingers inside her, had a second, even stronger than the first.

By the time I entered her, Kim had several more orgasms. She was still incredibly tight, almost painfully tight, despite everything I had done to get her ready, but we were already getting used to each other's bodies.

Unlike the day before I made soft, gentle love rather than the frantic pounding of our first sexual experience. This despite her at times desperate pleas for me to go "harder, fuck me harder John."

By the time I filled her insides with my cum, Kim had had several more orgasms, then joined me with her strongest of the day.

During our post-coital embrace Kim kept whispering, "I love you John. Always have, always will," and I also told her how much I loved her as well.

Three months later

Kim and I were walking arm-in-arm out to the pool. We had only gotten back that morning from our month-long honeymoon in Europe. One week each in England, France, Italy and Germany.

It was the most incredible month of my life. And, to be honest, the most expensive.

In England I had a custom-tailored suit made on Saville Row. In France Kim had several custom-tailored dresses made at Christian Dior. In Italy I had several custom-tailored Armani suits, then ordered a couple of pairs of hand-made Italian shoes. They actually made a mold from my feet so the shoes fit perfectly. Kim also had several more dresses custom-tailored.

We also brought several dresses and several sets of shoes back to give to Megan.

After arriving back at the house, Kim and I took a short nap to help catch up with jet lag. I then took both my beautiful ladies out to eat at the classiest place in Atlanta. I still couldn't believe how much it cost. $1,400 for the three of us!

But I have to tell you, when we walked into the restaurant, Megan on my left side with her arm through mine, and Kim on my right side with her arm through mine, it was worth it. Every person in the restaurant stopped eating and talking and were just staring at us.

Kim was wearing a red sleeveless Christian Dior dress that was cut almost to her buttocks in back, and almost to her belly button in front. Megan was wearing a matching black dress. Because of the dresses, both women were obviously not wearing bras.

I, of course, was wearing one of the custom Armani suits and the hand-made Italian shoes.

All the ladies were staring daggers at my two girls, and all the men were staring at me with complete envy. Okay, that is probably not true. I don't think any men there even noticed me. They couldn't take their eyes off my two beautiful ladies.

We had just gotten home and Megan went upstairs to get ready for bed. Megan's final words, after she made sure she was not standing too close to Kim were: "Night Dad, Night Mom."

Kim literally stamped her foot before yelling, "Megan Carpenter, WHAT did I tell you. You are so grounded young lady!"

We could hear Megan laughing all the way upstairs.

Kim said she wanted to walk out to the pool so that is where we were now. As soon as stepped outside the house, Kim slipped her shoes off which caused me to smile quickly.

"What?" Kim said when she saw me smiling down at her.

"You already own more pairs of shoes than any woman I have ever known," I answered, "and yet at least half the time you walk around barefoot."

"Hey, I like walking around without any shoes," she replied, then quipped, "And don't you guys always talk about women being 'barefoot and pregnant.'"

I still, even after three months, can't take my eyes off Kim. Her beauty is almost beyond belief. And in THAT dress -- WOW!

We had walked almost to the pool when her words finally penetrated my typical male brain.

Hey, looking at Kim, I was a little distracted, okay!

I swear she is even more beautiful now than a month ago, on our wedding date. She just seems to glow with an incredible inner beauty.

"Wait," I said, "WHAT did you say? 'Barefoot and WHAT?'"

Now Kim was grinning like a woman possessed.

"Well it took long enough for those words to soak in, John" she said. "I swear I don't know how you managed to make it this long . . . you are soooo oblivious at times.

"I guess for 18 years you had your mother telling you when to eat and when to sleep, then the Marines told you when to eat and when to sleep. After that Mary felt sorry for you and agreed to marry you and then she told you when to eat and sleep, and for the past year and a half you've had Megan telling you when to eat and sleep.

"But don't worry, John," she grinned, "now you have me to do all your thinking for you."

"Kiiiimmmm," I yelled. Wait, I have never yelled at a woman in my life. Especially not a beautiful woman. Not a beautiful woman I was in love with. Not a beautiful woman I was in love with and married to. Not a beautiful woman I was in love with and married to and who had just used the "P" word.

"Kimberly," I tried again, but this time using my "yes, I am totally in love with you but you are about to drive me crazy and if you don't stop rambling on and on and tell me what you are talking about then I might, just might actually yell at you if I don't go into cardiac arrest first," voice.

"Yes, I said 'barefoot and pregnant,' John," she finally answered, "as in we're going to have a baby. I'm three weeks late and bought a pregnancy test while we were in Italy."

By now Kim is starting to laugh at the expression on my face. Tears began filling my eyes.

"Oh my God, Kim," was all I could say, over and over for a couple of minutes. "Oh My God, Oh My God!"

Mary had some complications when Megan was born and the doctors recommended that she have her tubes tied so we could never have children.

All I could do was just hold Kim tightly against me.

"I'm going to be a father, I'm going to be a father," I repeated several times.

"You already ARE a father, John," she said. "You are just as much a father to Megan as any natural dad could ever be. And I know you are going to be a great father to our children as well."

Hearing Kim mention Megan prompted me to ask: "Does Megan know?"

Kim rolled her eyes at me: "Of course, you dufus. She's known since the first day I was late. We text each other all the time. Every day while we were on our honeymoon I sent her messages telling her everywhere we went and everything we did."

Then she smiled and added, "Well . . . not necessarily EVERYTHING! Some things we did are just between us.

"That's why I kind of yelled at her a few minutes ago. I thought she was going to let it slip and I wanted to tell you."

We resumed walking and reached the edge of the pool. Kim reached up and pulled my head down until our lips met. It was a slow, easy kiss but still rocked my world.

This beautiful woman, my wife, MY WIFE, was pregnant with my child!!!

"You know," I finally said, "we have never actually discussed children. How many babies would you like to have?"

"Oh, one or two," Kim answered. "That is one or two dozen!"

I just shook my head and grinned.

"You know what I want to do tomorrow, John?" she asked, and then answered before I could reply.

"I want us to go to one of the adult stores and buy some different size butt plugs," she said with a wicked grin. "I want to feel you inside me EVERYWHERE."

Wow! You know, being a husband is tough, but you have to try to make your wife happy. Sacrifice is the name of the game when it comes to marriage.

Then my weird sense of humor struck and I gave a half-laugh.

"What is it NOW?" Kim asked suspiciously. She had already learned about my weird sense of humor.

"Well," I said with a completely straight face, "rather than buy some butt plugs we could see if we could borrow some from Ralph, our old, fat gay neighbor."