6 comments/ 21489 views/ 10 favorites Finding Rachel By: mnshyguy I'd always wanted to go on a cruise. Year after year I kept waiting to see if I would find a woman I would like to bring with. The years have ticked by and I find myself 35 and still alone. I decided that I would give up on finding a worthy female companion and to just go on my own. Even though I didn't have a travel partner, I had been studying for years on where I would like to go and what cruise line I would take. My final conclusion was that I really didn't want to go too far away from the States, so I picked a 5 day Caribbean trip offered by Carnival. They were pretty inexpensive (read that as cheap) and they also were known for having a younger clientele. The hard part of all this would be asking my friend Jason if he wanted to go with. I honestly would have went alone, but it would be nice to have a wingman along. Besides, I knew he'd never been out of the country either, so he'd probably agree to go. As much as I prepared to ask him you would have thought I was in high school again and calling the prom queen. So I ordered myself to grow some balls and called him. "Jeremy, what's up?" He loves caller ID as much as I do, so I didn't accuse him of being a 'seer.' "Oh, not a lot. I've got a question for you. A totally heterosexual question for you, that is." "Uh, let's here it then." "I'm planning on going on a cruise and was wondering if you'd like to go with. Separate beds, of course, but it's just cheaper to have two in a room, so I thought I'd ask you." "Hell yeah, that would be cool. Where are we going?" "It's a five day, Monday to Friday, to Key West, Playa Del Carmen or Cozumel. I'd prefer Cozumel, personally, because it's an island with pretty cool reefs and snorkeling. Playa Del Carmen would be a bus ride and Indian ruins. Is that cool with you then?" "Yep," Jason replied, "that's cool with me. Do I need a passport or anything?" "Nope, just your birth certificate and your license. I'm thinking a month from now, like March 21 to 25, is that open for you?" "It sure is. Sign me up, bro." "Thanks Jason, it'll be fun. I'll have the travel agent fax you the stuff to fill out. Talk to you later." He hung up and I was glad the hard part was over and done. I'm one of those guys who hates asking anybody for anything, so that was like passing a kidney stone. But that's a whole different story in itself. I had to take a break from my traumatizing call before I called Sharon. Sharon is the travel agent I've been bugging for years about cruises, and I'm pretty sure she will be shocked that I'm actually going to go. Calling her is a lot easier than calling Jason, so I just decided to enrich her day with my phone call. After assuring the receptionist that I wasn't trying to sell time shares in the Ozarks, she put me through. "Hi Sharon, it's Jeremy Weston again. Good news, I'm actually going to go on a cruise." "Hi Jeremy, that's great. Who's the lucky woman?" "As is the story of my life, there is no woman. My buddy Jason wanted to go so we're going to go. As friends, because we're both straight." Laughing, Sharon replied "I figured that was the case, Jeremy. I didn't think you leaned that way, and all you talk about is finding "that girl" to go with you. Did you decide on the Carnival 5 day?" "Yes I did. March 21 to 25 if it's still open." She checked on it for me and let me know it was open. "That'll put you on the Ecstasy, cabin for 2, destination Key West, Playa Del Carmen, and Cozumel with the flight to Miami. Does that sound right?" "Sounds good to me." I told her I'd stop down and bring Jason's information with later. Saying that was fine, we hung up and I drove down to see her. I filled out my papers and paid for the both of us. If he wasn't my best friend I wouldn't have done that. I knew he'd be good for it. I wasn't financially well off, but I had planned on this for too long and wasn't going to worry about it until the bill came. I spent most of the time leading up to the trip getting myself ready. I'm a dark skinned guy, so I didn't worry about tanning booths. You know my type: brown hair, brown eyes, always looks like they have a tan. One saying is "tall, dark and handsome," but they can have their dark eyes, I'd always wanted to have green eyes. I figured if I had exotic green eyes that maybe some females would notice and talk to me, but I wouldn't feel right getting an eye transplant. I was stuck with what Mom and Dad gave me. Getting the birth certificate turned out to be a bureaucratic nightmare. First you have to go to the county courthouse where you were born. Your next trip involves taking the day off so you can get there during their open hours. Most people don't have 1:00 to 1:15PM off, so you blow a whole day going in. And then they are all cranky that you are bugging them during their 15 minute shift. Don't even get me started on renewing a drivers license. Clothes shopping wasn't quite as bad. The formal dining room on the cruise doesn't allow jeans or shorts or tennis shoes, so I had to buy something fancy. I'm not your suit wearing type, but I do like to play dress up occasionally. A very nice, disturbingly pretty young lady helped me find a suit that would work. I asked her if she wanted Jason's ticket, but she kindly declined. Heartbroken, I had her point me towards the shoe department. After making trust fund baby Mark Dayton even richer, I made my way back to my humble abode. I didn't even bother taking my fancy clothes out of the package since there wouldn't be any chance to wear them presently. I'm kind of anal when it comes to details, so a week before the trip I already had packed and unpacked my suitcase to make sure everything would fit. My biggest worry was finding someone to baby-sit Mandy. No, I don't have any kids. One would have to have sexual intercourse to manufacture one of those. Mandy is my pet cat. Pet is kind of a harsh word, so I prefer "sidekick" to describe her. She knows all of my secrets so I had to find someone to watch over her. My nosy neighbor Wanda offered to sell me her kid for the job. I told her that I was actually only interested in renting her services of cat protector for a week and she grudgingly agreed. The big day finally arrived and I was as ready as I could be. Wanda Jr. was all prepped and had my two pages of notes for her, and my brother was on the way to pick me up. We swung by and picked up Jason on the way. Thank whatever God is your god that my brother had a Ford Explorer. There is no way all our crap would have fit into my Honda. The only scary part was going over 20 mph in an Explorer. I had one hand on the dash and the other on the OS bar and was shouting out warnings every time we approached a gentle corner. We made it safely to the airport, and I said a little prayer of thanks for not letting us roll over on the way there. We walked through Charles Lindbergh terminal and got our tickets. I looked everywhere for the picture of him and Reichsmarshal Hermann Goering but couldn't find it. Going through security wasn't as bad as I thought. They were too busy strip searching 90 year old granny's in sweat suits to worry about my nail clippers. Our flight took off right on time. Only an hour late. We were truly blessed. The waitresses on the plane must have drugged me, because 4 hours later I awoke to our landing gear being put down. I must have been a little groggy from the drugs, as I thought I heard them announce "welcome to Miami. The temperature is a chilly 97 degrees, so be sure to grab a sweater before going outside." Jason informed me I had missed the in-flight movie- Meet the Fockers. Thank God those waitresses drugged me! I'll tip them on my way out. Luggage was found and we ventured on out to the bus that will transport us to the piers. The bus ride was boring. I kept watching for Will Smith or Don Johnson to go speeding by, but no such luck. Next up was passing thru customs. Our luggage would meet us on the boat, so all they were worried about was our carry-on's. The kind lady behind the table took my travel papers and made her little notations. "Mr. Weston, are you traveling alone?" "No ma'am, I'm with him. Well, I'm not 'with' him, but we are together. But I'm straight. And so is he. We're just friends." "Mr. Weston, I wasn't asking that, but thanks for clearing that up. I think. I ask because I also assign you your room and boarding pass, so I wanted to make sure you were with the person on my list. So you are Jason Patterson, correct?" "Yes, ma'am, that's me," Jason replied. We got past customs without much hassle. They did spend a little too much time inspecting my underwear, though. I was totally disappointed to not see Julie and Captain Stubing greet us. I was going to say something but held back. I'll ask Gopher later. We walked into the Grand Atrium and marveled at all things shiny. We took the glass elevator to our floor and found our room. The room consisted of two single beds, a built in TV, and a tiny bathroom with shower. Nature called so I tried out the facilities. I screamed like a little girl when I flushed the toilet. It honestly sounded like a jet engine going off. Jason looked horrified, asking "What the hell was that?" "WHAT? I'M SORRY, I'M DEAF" Fine, it wasn't that loud, but pretty darn close. We ditched our stuff and went back out to the deck for the leaving celebration. Another myth of "Love Boat" is that there is a nice, loving farewell from well wishers. Only person I saw was the guy sweeping, and he wouldn't wave back to me. That asshole. The first order of business is that we were ordered to a survival class. I asked too many questions about icebergs in the Caribbean, because when I had trouble with my life jacket the guy demonstrating said "it's all right, you won't need one, sir." Jason and I went up on deck right after our survival class. It is nice of them to humor us into thinking we'd actually have a chance to survive in the middle of the ocean. We saw lots of good looking women on board, I was just hoping that a few of them were single. One of the bad things about cruises is that it is a honeymoon destination too. It's hard to be around all those happy people. We picked a spot with a good view and watched Florida disappear. A wonderful thing that I noticed was that there was not any shuffleboard on this ship. I think if I saw people playing that I would have to jump over and take my chances. We decided we would go to the 6 o'clock supper instead of the 8, so we had to go change into adult clothes. The last day is mandatory dress coat day, but the other nights are just nice shoes and the equivalent of Dockers. Well, that and the no tee shirt rule. So I changed into a nice shirt, and even tucked it in. My mom would be proud. We found an empty table and picked the best view. Another quirk of protocol is that you sit at the same table each night. I think they do that so you make friends onboard, but a little voice in my head told me that the Captain looked an awful lot like my elementary school principal. I can picture him still giving people assigned seats. A nice looking older couple joined us, so I told myself I had to behave. We did the usual question and answer period, and we found out they were from New Jersey. I asked if they knew Tony Soprano, but they didn't know who he was. It seems that Donny and Marge aren't HBO subscribers. They asked the standard question every Minnesotan gets from out of staters: "Isn't it cold up there?" "Yes, Don, I do believe it is. See, we are so used to it that we wear short sleeve shirts until it gets to about 10 above zero. After that we put on flannel shirts and are totally fine. But, when we get our usual 20 inches of snow a day, we shovel without shirts on. The women too. It's the only reason I still live there, actually. Okay, I'm being a pain, yes it gets cold there. A couple of months ago it was minus 40 out. That is no joke, my friend. I think there is an inbred sadism when it comes to living there. We get tornadoes in the summer, high humidity, then 40 below in winter." Marge didn't know how to read me so she asked Jason if that was right. He said that if you took away the sarcasm, I was right. Out of the corner of my eye I see the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. She has short, dark hair, hypnotic green eyes, freckles, a slim nose and a mouth that I had to kiss soon or I would surely die. She had on a modest but very stunning tan dress on that looked amazing next to her dark skin. She had a friend with, too, but I didn't really notice. "Hi everyone, are these seats taken?" Thank God for Donny because I was still speechless. "No, they aren't taken, please join us. We need some pretty faces to offset these two here," he said as he pointed at us. I finally regained the ability to speak, and promptly introduced myself. I forgot to stand when they joined us, so I stood up and said "hi, my name is Jeremy" and took her hand. "Hi Jeremy, I'm Rachel and this is Sara. Nice to meet you." Jason introduced himself too, but I didn't notice. I was still staring at Rachel. I was trying hard internally to come back to earth, and my attempt at humor didn't exactly come out right. "Rachel and Sara, names from the Old Testament. My name is associated with a song by Pearl Jam, and Jason here shares his name with a mass murderer in a really, really bad series of movies. Uh, so ladies, where are you from?" Rachel spoke up first, telling us she was from Madison, Wisconsin. Sara was too, but that's Jason's problem, not mine. I told her we were basically neighbors, as we are from Minneapolis. "Don't worry, I don't like football so I won't call you cheese heads." much to my delight Rachel and Sara both laughed at my joke. "So, when are your husbands joining you?" Yeah, I can be real subtle at times like these. "There won't be any husbands or boyfriends joining us. I did enjoy how you got that out of us, though" Rachel said, laughing to herself. We had a nice supper, and I managed to not ask her to marry me yet. They left first and Don and Marge were pretty observant people. "Shall I call for the doctor, Jeremy, you appear like you aren't breathing well." "I'm fine Marge, just got hit by a train and am starting to catch my breath." Donny added to it, saying "I do believe our young friend here has had his first case of love at first sight. You have good taste, she is very stunning. Quite funny, too." "I think you may be right, Don. It's nothing that 8 beers won't fix as soon as we leave here." I wasn't exactly a man of my word because I only ended up having 6 beers. Jason made fun of me all night for falling so hard for this woman I just met. That's what friends are for, right? I somehow managed to wake up without a hangover, and found myself starving. We grabbed some breakfast before our excursion into Key West. We rode the tender through calm seas to our designated pier. Jason and I signed up for a glass bottom boat tour, so we made our way to where the tour company was located. We had about 10 minutes to spare, so we took a seat until everyone arrived. Just as we were about to take off our last two sight-seers joined us. It was Rachel and Sara. "Hi Rachel, hi Sara, are you guys stalking me? It's fine if you are, I know I'm good looking. It's hard to resist me but you must try. If you insist, I will allow you to sit by me for our 3 hour tour. Oops, wrong show. I went from 'Love Boat' to 'Gilligan's Island.' But seriously, please join us." Much to my surprise, and delight, they did join us. I really think that Rachel was enjoying my awful sense of humor, so I ratcheted it up a notch. I would add helpful comments like "that is a fish. A blue one, it appears" or "that is a reef. It like grows or something and fish swim around it. See, there goes another one." She was laughing more and more, and from her body language I could tell she was getting comfortable with me. Our time was up and they brought us back to land. I suggested that maybe we could all explore the shops and then ride back to the ship together. I peered away from Rachel long enough to see that Jason was getting along with Sara, so I was glad that I wasn't boring them to death. All agreed that it was a good idea, and off we went. The shops turned out to be your typical tourist trap places, so we had a drink in a quaint little bar before walking back to the tender. The seas were rougher on this leg of the trip, and the six foot swells were tossing people around. That it tossed Rachel into me didn't bother me at all. After we got back on the ship we wished each other well and said "see you at supper." That evening at supper Rachel arrived wearing a nice, but not too nice, clingy red dress. There was a hint of cleavage showing and I found myself spending a bit too much time coming back to that spot. She noticed I couldn't keep my eyes off of her, and I was rewarded with a smile instead of a chastising glare. "I'm sorry I am staring, but you look so good tonight. You look good every night, even though I've only known you two nights. Oh man, I'm rambling again. All I'm trying to say is that you look nice." "Thank you, Jeremy. I understood what you were trying to say. I just wanted to watch you squirm. I forgot to ask you, what do you do for a living?" "You seem like a trustworthy type, so I'll tell you. I'm a highly paid assassin for the CIA. I fly all over the world just to whack someone. This is usually a busy time of the year, so I was lucky they gave me time off. Otherwise I wouldn't have met you." "Is that so? It sounds to me like you think you are James Bond or Mitch Rapp." "Wow, Rachel, you know who Mitch Rapp is? That is very interesting. I actually met Vince Flynn at a book signing not long ago. Nice guy. In reality I am a service manager at a GM dealership. I met Jason in tech school and we've been friends ever since. It turns out Jason is a lot better than I am at turning wrenches, so I went into management. He still is a mechanic, and I've been trying to steal him away from his dealership for years now. So what do you do for a living?" "I'm a used car salesperson. Nah, I'm just kidding. Actually, I'm the finance manager at a Jaguar dealership. It's hard dealing with those soulless salesmen all day, but I have Sara and my cat Mittens. I named her after Ralph Wiggum's cat on 'The Simpsons.'" "You work at a dealer, you have a cat, and you like 'The Simpsons'? Will you marry me? I'm serious, think about it." She thought this was hysterically funny, and for now she turned down my proposal. We paused long enough to watch the singing waiters bring out our dessert on their heads. If any of them knew English I would have told them I was impressed. I decided that I was ignoring Jason too much, so I talked with him and Sara during dessert. Don and Marge must have felt like the ugly step-sisters, but I wasn't worrying too much. I was more concerned about how to make Rachel mine. After supper, Jason and I decided to try our luck at the casino. I quickly found that my luck on land carries over to the Gulf of Mexico. I lost $20 playing slots in a matter of seconds, or so it seemed. He had more success then I did, and won almost $400 playing Blackjack. He tends to be a lot more rational then I am, so he cashed out and we headed for the bar. Winner buys, so he picked up the first few drinks and we just talked. I found out that he and Sara were getting along really well, and they were already talking about seeing each other in the real world. Good for them, he deserves it. Both of us were pretty tired, so we headed back to our room. We had already mastered how to flush the toilet without losing our hearing. If you opened the door and reached back in and hit it you could escape fast enough not to get the sound wave. That night I fell asleep with visions of Rachel, not sugar plums, dancing in my head. Finding Rachel Author's Note. I first published this about a year ago under a different title but I wasn't happy with it so pulled it for a rewrite. The storyline is much the same but the ending significantly different. If you are after a quick stroke story this is not it: rather, it's a tale for those who like a bit of a build up and some romance, and – dare I say it – a little humour too. It is a lighthearted tale with a touch of fantasy and fairytale about it, so please don't take it too seriously (unless you happen to believe in Genies!). There is sex in it, of course, but it is secondary to the main theme of the story. If you don't like it then move on to richer pickings; but if you do, please leave a comment or a score (or both!). None of the characters or names within it are based on any particular person, living or dead and all are over the age of 18 - although Tony Wilson, the main character, sometimes displays an immaturity that defies his years... H_S May 2014. Finding Rachel. Chapter 1 'And another thing!' Rebecca Armitage's voice cut through the hubbub of conversation like a paring knife though the soft, wrinkled flesh of a scrotum. 'You have a tiny, weeny dick!' An instant hush settled over the room and I gaped at her, completely lost for words. Bec looked around the bar and smiled. It was not a nice smile, by any means: rather, it was a malicious, mean-spirited, below-the-belt smirk that never touched her eyes. 'It's like a fucking little worm,' she explained to the listening crowd. Her voice was getting louder, reaching through the open doors into the street. 'Small and useless,' she shrilled, 'and....' she drew in a breath and I could see her mind racing to capture the right adjective. I braced myself. '...miniscule!' she said triumphantly. Now, there was a time not long ago when I would have seriously questioned whether Bec would even know a word like 'miniscule'. There's no doubt about the quality of her physical attributes, but it's fair to say her intellect isn't up to the same standard. It isn't just my assessment either - the general feeling amongst everyone who has fucked her, and there are many, is that the mass of each of her tits is at least twice that of her brain - and she is only a 34 C cup on a good day. But hey, she was clearly on a roll and you could have heard a pin drop. I could see everyone feasting their eyes on this feisty little blond who was happy to share her view on my noodle. 'It's a pathetic, shriveled, microscopic ugly little worm!' she screeched, 'and I never want to pick my teeth with it again!' And with that she turned on one shapely heel and stormed out of the room. You know the old adage - if you throw enough shit some of it will stick? Well, she'd just flung a complete fucking sewage works at me and I was covered in piles of ordure. Jesus! I looked around the room and was met with a sea of gleeful faces, and my heart sank. I knew that tomorrow some smartarse would christen me Tiny Tony or Wormy Wilson and the name would stick, and the story of Bec trumpeting my tiny, weeny little tool to the world would grace dinner tables and be the butt of jokes at my expense for years to come. The bar was silent and I saw they were all looking at me. God, if only I was clever with words. I needed someone to defuse the situation, to turn the tables on pox-arse Bec - but I just didn't have that gift and so I waited for some knight in shining armour to defend me. The silence stretched out. I could hear the grandfather clock in the hall ticking. 'I say,' said Phil, who was standing next to me. He was my best mate and I knew I could count on him. 'That was a bit unkind -' A sense of overwhelming gratitude surged though me. 'Thanks Phil,' I murmured. '- to worms,' he finished. The room erupted in laughter and I shrank back from him. Fuck! Tiny Tony it would be then, and I wouldn't have minded if not for one stark fact. My cock really was tiny. * As I stood there I reflected on the short story of my member. It was small - three inches or so, and that was when it was really angry. And there was nothing I could do about it. The bottom drawer in my cupboard was full of stuff that absolutely, positively guaranteed a longer dick: creams and lotions, pumps and weights and suction gizmos and stretchy bands. Over the years I'd tried everything but all it had done was empty my bank balance and give me a sore - and still small - prick. I'd sought advice, too, and they'd all said the same thing - not to worry about it. In different ways, of course, like my G.P. 'It's still functional, Teeny - er, Tony,' he'd said. I'd stolen a surreptitious look at his crutch and seen the outline of an elephant's trunk in his pants. Condescending bastard. Or my shrink: he'd steepled his fingers and stared at the ceiling. 'It's not the size of your pecker, but how you use it' he'd said, with all the sincerity of an undertaker explaining he could bring a body back to life (I'd reflected later on the irony of seeing a shrink about a small appendage). And then the young female doctor in the sexual health clinic with the sexy overbite and big nipples: 'It's not the meat, it's the motion,' she'd breathed in a little-girl voice. I'd hoped she'd show me how, but apparently she had much bigger things on her mind. The worst was from my sister, though - a spontaneous comment as she saw me coming out of the bathroom one day when I thought the house was empty. 'Oh, Tony,' she'd shrilled. 'What a beautifullittle willie!' I'd scurried to my room, red-faced and humiliated, thinking that although my member might be compact, her twat was probably the size of the channel tunnel. There was nothing to be gained by staying in the bar so I slunk out and started walking home, hoping that Bec was under a car somewhere and wondering where my sex might come from, now that she was gone. She might have been a first class bitch but her pussy was exceptional, and it wasn't like I had a lot of other options. Perhaps I could find a midget somewhere who would be happy with the size of my equipment. There's an old junk shop in Morris Street not far from where I live and I often stop and look in the window. Passers by might think I'm interested in the bric-a-brac that fills its window: old books and pots and vases and bits of allegedly antique brass that probably come from Taiwan - but frankly, that shit leaves me cold. No. The reason I stop to peer in through the grimy window is because there's a little brunette who works there. She's lovely: a shade over five six, I reckon, with a face as sweet as a baby rabbit, tits like honeydew melons and a shapely little arse that is just begging to be licked all over, preferably drizzled in golden syrup. She can be seen in the shop window from time to time - apparently rearranging the crap there - and she invariably wears a pussy-pelmet skirt...you know, one of those micro things made out of half a handkerchief that barely covers the hairs on her minge. And the thing is, she doesn't seem to mind that most of the male neighbourhood stand with their dribbling lips stuck to the glass, ogling her spectacular derriere and the pubes peeping from the elastic of her little white panties. I don't know what she gets paid, but it isn't enough - half the sales must be to guys buying shit they don't want, just to get a closer look at her. The window-dressing thing doesn't happen often, though, so I wasn't expecting too much as I rounded the corner just down from the shop but - fuck me! - there she was, bending down setting up a box of crappy old vases in the corner of the window...and the street was empty. She was mine to ogle, all by myself. And so I hurried over and pretended to study a pile of old books in the window with my eyes swiveled sideways so I could see up her skirt. It was even shorter than the others and her panties had been pulled up so tight I could see the complete outline of her pussy: the dark lips pressing against the fabric and the material folded in between, jammed in her crack and translucent with her juice. She hadn't shaved recently, and little wisps of dark silky hair curled around the elastic in contrast to the white creamy flesh of the top of her tights. Fuck! And her legs were perfect, too: slim and shapely with the glossy flesh as firm as a ripe peach, leading up to that arresting little crack and the spectacular globes of her tight little butt either side of it. The pretense of studying the books was forgotten. I mean, if you had the choice to examine a tattered copy of Ripley's Believe it or Not or a delicious little snatch not two feet away in a pair of microscopic knickers clearly not up to the job, which would you choose? No contest! And so I stood there with my tongue hanging out and my dick like a paddle pop stick in my pants, gazing at syrup-arse's delicious little cheeks with lust on my mind. I could almost smell her: the lovely, warm odour of a healthy young woman, and my mouth watered at the thought of how she might taste. Christ knows how long I stood there with my tongue pressed against the window, but all too soon she stood up and the object of my desire disappeared under the hem of her little black skirt. She turned and saw me with my nose pressed to the saliva-stained glass and her face lit up in a smile you could have powered a thousand homes with. I mean, I'm not much to look at but that smile was just as if George Clooney was standing there with his dick out: a genuine, thousand-watt welcome that I just couldn't resist. So I found my feet taking me into the shop...into that den of dust and debris and musty old books, not to buy anything but because I just had to see her close up. To gaze into those clear blue eyes and look upon face - or, better still, to peer down the top of her blouse at her magnificent melons. Who knows, I thought, as I stumbled in over the step, I might even get a head job. There was more chance of Pluto colliding with the Earth, but hey, I'm an optimist. And fifteen minutes later I lurched out into the street twenty quid poorer and in love. Fuck! Rachel Pudney (as I discovered her name to be) was really something! She'd treated me like I was the only guy in the world. She'd ignored my stuttering and my stumbling and the drool on my chin. She'd touched my arm (which I now wasn't going to wash for a week), and smiled into my face and asked who I was and what I liked, and then sold me some piece of junk that I didn't need and didn't want other than she'd been the last one to touch it. It was worth twenty quid just for that. I watched as she wrapped my purchase in tissue paper, her fingers dexterous and slim and her alluring breasts heaving with every breath into her lovely body. 'You come back soon, Tony,' she'd breathed in her soft west country lilt that made my little member crank up another millimetre. 'And tell me all about it.' 'About what?' I'd asked, perplexed. She'd handed me the change with a knowing little smile, her eyes taking apart my soul as if she could see right through me. 'You'll see,' she said, and she laughed a few tinkling notes as sweet as honey as I lurched from the shop in a daze, clutching my purchase. * I live with my parents and sister in a house in Mort Street, which is well named as it must be the most fucking dead-end place in the entire universe - but it's free and Mum does my cooking and washing, so I can't complain. My old folks have one end of the house and I share the other with Cassie, my sister, who is two years older than me. Cassie has a steady boyfriend and she likes to sneak him into her room when she thinks no one else is home. I've set up a webcam in a shoebox on the top of her wardrobe, and I watch as he fucks seven bells of shit out of her on her bed, the floor, the carpet and, on one memorable occasion, balanced on top of the dressing table so he could watch his dick going in an out in the mirror. Despite the fact that Cassie is getting it regularly she is a complete pain in the left nut so we try not to have much to do with each other. I hurried home and shut myself in the bathroom, thinking of Rachel Pudney's fine round tits and tight little snatch, and in no time my little soldier was stood to attention. I dragged him out into the light of day and stroked him, thinking of how good she would feel and which of her delicious little orifices I'd do first. God damn, she was hot! I imagined how tight she would be and how my cock would look as it pumped in and out, and how she would grunt and groan under me as I fucked her. Holy shit, it was good! In no time at all I felt the familiar urge and I shuffled my feet forward to the edge of the third tile and pointed Percy at the mirror while my orgasm built in my brain, spinning upwards in a tight little spiral of pleasure until, with a groan, I spurted. A jet of jism sizzled upwards and splattered on the mirror about a foot above my head - Bingo! A new record! A few others followed, gradually trailing down the glass until the final dribbles splattered on the floor next to my feet. No doubt about it, Rachel Pudney had won this round - better than Mila Kunis, whom I tossed over a lot, and even Charlize, by a good head's width. As I contemplated the milky product of my balls dribbling over the glass there was a furious hammering on the door and a female voice boomed through the keyhole. 'Tony! Are you in there!? Let me in!' 'Fuck, Cassie! I'm busy!' 'I'm busting! Let me in.' 'Go to the other loo.' 'It's busy! Jesus, Tony, I'm going to pee myself. Let me in, please!' She hammered on the door again, the timber creaking with the force of her blows. She's a strong girl, my sister. 'Christ...OK, OK.' I fumbled Percy back into my pants and unlocked the door. 'Jesus, Cass- ' but she darted past me and was already crouching on the bog with her pants around her ankles, so I shut the door and went back to my room before remembering that my sperm was still splattered over the mirror. Shit, shit. Now she'd have something else to hold over me. The parcel Rachel had wrapped was on my bed and I picked it up and sniffed it carefully, hoping it would retain a trace of her perfume. Bec used a similar product - two pound fifty from Boots - but somehow it didn't seem as alluring on her as it did on the devine Ms Pudney. Anyway, there was no trace of it so I tore open the paper to remind myself what she had sold me. It was an old fashioned oil lamp, I think - you know, one shaped like a gravy boat with the wick poking out of the lid. The metal was dark with age and the spout was blocked by what appeared to be cement. The lid was similarly fastened with some sort of silicon (which inexplicably made me think of Rachel again), and the whole thing was tarnished and dirty. I remembered her enthusiasm as she pressed it into my hands. 'Look at this, Tony,' she'd warbled. 'A genuine antique!' 'But I don't collect antiques.' I protested. 'Of course you do, silly! It's just that you haven't started yet!' She regarded me with eyes as big and blue as wedgewood saucers. 'Don't you want to start?' Her smile lit up the room. 'I'd be here whenever you wanted help! I could come round to your place and help catalogue them.' She probably said the same thing to every guy who bought something, but it didn't matter. I was captivated by the vision of her being here, on my bed, observing my meagre collection of antique artifacts and making little grunting noises as I explored the tightness of her tube. 'Um, how much?' 'For you, twenty.' 'You mean twenty pence?' 'Twenty pounds, silly!' She glanced at the back of the shop to ensure we were alone and her voice dropped. 'You won't regret it, I promise.' 'But I -' Rachel put her hand on my arm. 'Please, Tony! I haven't sold a thing all day. Just for me? Please?' If she'd offered me a plastic statue of Adolf Hitler at that moment I'd have bought it, so I paid my twenty quid - and here it was. A ratty, battered, fugly, expensive jug: my very first antique. I picked it up and turned it over and examined the bottom. There were words etched there, probably some sort of hallmark, and I rubbed the warm metal to remove the grime and held it up to the light to read the fine print. Made in China. And at that moment it happened. The jug shook violently in my hand and became instantly hot to the touch. I dropped it like a hot potato and stared with eyes like Rachel's tits (round and bulging) as it bounced on the floor and came to rest on its side. The lid was flung off violently to strike the skirting board with a dull clang, and a spume of grey dust shot out from the open top like someone had just stamped on a vacuum cleaner bag. But it wasn't dust - it was a cloud of...something, whirling and spinning in a little spiral of granular particles that turned blue and then silver and shimmered and teased the eyes, forming one shape and then another before finally coalescing into...the shape of a man. For a few moments there was silence in the room as we observed each other, and then I reacted with customary finesse. 'Fuck!' I shouted. 'Is that a command, master?' His dark eyes regarded me without blinking. 'Holy shit!' 'What about that?' He smiled, his teeth a dazzling white in the dark skin of his face. 'Is that a command? I need a command.' 'Who - the - fuck -are - you?' 'Me? Oh, sorry.' He did one of those ornate bows, you know, where you sort of wave your arm around at the same time as bending forward at the waist and bobbing your head.' Let me introduce myself,' he said, 'Ali Akbar Khan the -' he closed his eyes for a moment, as if counting, '- twenty third.' I stood there like a landed fish, my mouth opening and closing with no sounds. 'And you are?' he asked quietly. 'Um - T-T-Tony Wilson.' He smiled again. In time I was to grow to hate that smile for its utter insincerity, but for the moment at least it reassured me that he wasn't inclined to violence. 'T-T-Tony Wilson,' he repeated. 'Well, T-T-Tony, you look surprised to see me.' 'Fuck yes!' I tried to gather my thoughts. These two word conversations weren't useful. 'Where in hell's name did you come from, and what the fuck are you doing in my room?' I asked. Better. 'I was in there,' he said, and touched the gravy jug with the toe of his shoe, ' and I'm here because that's where the lamp was when I got out.' I studied him for a moment. He was a big guy - I mean, probably six-six and broad across the chest. The diameter of the jug's top was about an inch I guess, so that didn't compute. Not only that, but if you've just been reconstituted from a bunch of dust particles you'd expect to look like a hobo but this guy was smart...I mean, we're talking a thousand guinea suit here, with a crisp white shirt and an Armani tie, and shoes like polished glass. His face was long and lean and sort of olive in complexion, but it was freshly shaved and I could smell a pint or so of eau de cologne even from where I stood. I figured the jug didn't have a bathroom inside so he was clearly bullshitting. 'Yeah? I asked. 'Well, if that's true then I'm Jessica Alba - how about you piss off out of the house before I call the fuzz?' 'Is that a command?' 'Fuck! What is it with this command thing? Well, if it makes you so frickin' happy then y-' 'Stop!' He held up his hand. 'I'm sure you know the routine, Tony. A genie pops out of the bottle and offers three commands to his rescuer. Well, that's me and you. You've got three, my friend, so don't waste them.' My lip curled. 'Why don't you just get back in the jug, you loony.' 'Is that -' 'No, it's not a fucking command! It's a little test to show me that I'm right - that you're speaking out of your arse...and if you can't get back into that -' I gestured at the little jug, '- then you're a certified nut and I need to call the cops.' Finding Rachel The dark figure considered for a moment. 'Very well. I don't normally do this, but if you don't believe me then I'll show you.' He crossed his arms and closed his eyes and sort of screwed up his face, a bit like I do if I'm trying to squeeze one out to piss off Cassie. But instead of blowing off he sort of collapsed inwards as if he was being sucked off by a Black Hole, and before my very eyes he was reduced to particles of dust again that swirled briefly in a little cloud before rocketing back into the jug. 'Fuck' I said again, perhaps with even more conviction. Looking back at that moment I should have said something clever but I just stood there with my mouth open and stared at the jug. I could hear tinny clanking noises from inside it, and a bright light suddenly speared from the top to illuminate my titty pictures on the wall. And then there was the puff of dust again and the shimmering, dancing cloud of particles that finally re-ordered themselves into Ackbow, or whatever his frigging name was. 'Jesus!' 'Well, no,' he said modestly, and shot the cuffs of his expensive white shirt. 'Just me.' He regarded my face with dark eyes. 'Now do you believe me?' I backed up until my legs contacted the chair in the corner and sat down, my mind spinning. A fucking Genie! Something that every kid has read stories about, but hardly the stuff of reality. Perhaps Cassie had tried to poison me and this was a side effect. Perhaps my constant wanking had weakened my brain. Perhaps - 'Well?' he prompted. I gathered my wits. There was only one way to test this, and that was to play along with his game. I nodded, my eyes on his face. 'Yes, I do. I don't get it Ackburg, but I'll go along with it for a while. Why me, though?' He laughed, his teeth like small bar fridges against his dark complexion. 'Ali...just Ali. Ackbar is my family name - well, part of it. You wouldn't want to know the rest. It sounds like Meercats fuc- um, mating. Do you mind if I sit down?' I waved a weak invitation and he sat on the edge of my bed with a distasteful glance at the stained grey sheets. 'Why you?' he repeated, 'because you had the lamp. You rubbed it, and I came.' I was very familiar with that concept so it sort of rang my bell, so to speak. His mention of coming also reminded me the jism on the bathroom mirror that Cassie was probably examining right about now. Perhaps he could fix that. 'So what's the deal, um, Ali?' I asked. 'I'm bound to offer you three wishes.' 'And when they are done?' 'I'll ask you to move my lamp somewhere and I will take my leave.' 'Right.' I thought about it. The guy was clearly certifiable but he was clever, I'd give him that. Still, what did I have to lose? 'I'd like the biggest dick in the world.' I said firmly. He looked at me for a moment. 'Is that your first command?' 'Yes.' 'Let me see it. I need to understand the challenge.' 'Pardon?' 'I need to see your current...assets. Just a quick look.' Well, talking to the guy was one thing but showing him my equipment was another. Perhaps he batted for the other side, or something. On the other hand, I was keen to have it done. 'You won't move from the bed?' I asked cautiously. 'No.' A little smile crossed his lips. 'I promise.' 'Right.' I stood up and dropped my pants and watched his eyes widen a little. 'Ah! Well. You want a bigger one.' 'Yes.' 'The biggest in the world.' 'Yep.' 'Are you sure you don't want a different wish? Something easier, perhaps, like - well - like bringing the dinosaurs back from extinction or getting Ms Theron to give you head?' I covered myself up. 'Fuck you, Ali.' 'Sorry.' He laughed lightly. 'I haven't had much opportunity to make jokes with someone in a long time. Really, you're not that small and I can fix it.' 'Right.' My curiosity was piqued. 'So you've seen smaller?' 'Most assuredly. On many, many occasions. You see many strange things if you wonder through space and time. I have certainly seen diminutive appendages. On small children, pigmies, circus frea -' he stopped suddenly as he saw my expression. 'Never mind, Tony Wilson. Um - does it work?' 'It's just Tony,' I said wearily, 'and yes, it does work.' He nodded. 'Very well. There's really nothing to worry about...we'll just expand things a bit. How big did you say?' 'The biggest in the world.' 'Are you sure?' I thought about it. All of my life I'd been tiny and now, if this lunatic was capable of doing what he said, I could change that. I'd be the object of desire. I could work in the Porn Industry. Women would flock to me, desperate to try me out, to see if I would fit into their wet, horny little pussies. In a few short years Tony Wilson would be remembered, no, revered for his enormous cock. I stood at the brink of fame and fortune and endless fucking beyond my wildest dreams. For a moment I hesitated. What if it hurt? What if the guy was a homicidal maniac and I ended up with something even smaller? What if it got big but it wouldn't work? My mind quavered. I opened my mouth to say no, I wasn't sure - but then a little saying my Mum kept quoting popped into my head. For all sad words of tongue and pen, the saddest are these: 'It might have been.' 'Yes,' I responded. Ali bobbed his head. 'It is done,' he said quietly. I pulled aside my pants and peered downwards. Percy was nestled like a little worm. 'It hasn't changed! You haven't done it.' He shrugged. 'It will,' he said, 'when you use it next time. It is like - how you say - Jack's Beanstalk. It must be watered before it can sprout to a giant size stalk.' 'Well then, I'll just stick it under the shower -' 'No, no. I mean watered with the juices of a woman.' I didn't remember Jack's beanstalk being doused in pussy juice in any of the stories I'd read as a kid, but anything involving girly cream sounded good so I let it pass. 'Now the others,' Ali continued. 'Tell me the other two commands and release me.' For the first time a little sense crept into my head. Why rush? Tomorrow I'd fuck Rebecca Armitage half to death to teach her a lesson, and then I'd think about the other commands. 'Later,' I said. 'Perhaps tomorrow.' He turned his eyes on me. 'That is not the deal, Tony. I demand you tell me the other two and release me.' 'Really? Well, Ali Ackbar the twenty third, go and suck my rosy red cock! And before you ask, no, that's not a command. You owe me two, buddy, and there isn't a statute of limitations on the deal so I'll let you know when I'm ready.' For a moment a blaze of anger flared in the dark eyes but I was already turning away, so I didn't see it. And because my head was filled with visions of fucking Bec, I didn't give a moment's thought to the utter stupidity of pissing off a Genie who can do things to your dick just by looking at it. *** She picked it up on the third ring. 'Jules Pipe and Tool Works, Bec speaking.' Her voice-at-work voice. I'd laughed when I first heard her say it, thinking that Jules must be quite a guy to have his secretary boast about him like that, but then I figured he was probably a sad old fart who didn't realise what his company name sounded like. 'Bec! It's Tony Wilson. I -' Her voice changed, the timbre shifting to become sly. 'Tiny! Well, I didn't think I'd be hearing from you again!' She laughed, a cruel little sound of derision rather than humour. 'So do you want me to come to another bar with you?' My balls contracted slightly at the thought. 'Well, no, um - actually, Bec, I'm calling you about that. You see, you were right. The fact that I was born like that and have no control over the size of my dick is no excuse. I understand your anger, Bec - someone of your, um - appetite deserves -' 'Appetite!' she hissed. The volume of her voice had dropped but the venom count was off the clock. 'Are you saying I'm a slut?!' 'No, no, Bec! I promise! No, I didn't mean that. I meant - er, that someone as beautiful as you deserves the very best! I - um, I failed that test, Bec, and I deserved your scorn. But I've fixed it. I think you'll be impressed - no, astounded at the change, and I'd like to show you -' 'You've fixed your dick?' she said. The pitch of her voice had returned to normal, so I guess my flattery had worked. I imagined her at her desk, her voice low and her eyes on her bosses door in case he came out and found her talking about cocks in company time. And not stop cocks, either. 'You've fixed your dick?' she repeated and this time there was incredulity in her tone. 'That's right. It's - um - huge. I know you'll be impressed.' There was a long pause on the end of the line and I could hear the hiss of static. And then she laughed - a shrill cackle as cruel as a surgeon's scalpel. 'Well, Tony, that I have to see!' she chortled. 'Fixed your dick indeed! That's a good one! Well, Titanic Tony, bring it around to my place tonight, why don't you. And bring your balls in a barrow behind you.' She laughed at her stunning wit. 'Shall we say, um, seven o'clock? My folks will be out for ten minutes or so, but that will be plenty of time for you,' and there was a click as the phone was put down. * Bec lives about twenty minutes from my place and as I pedaled there on my pushbike I must admit I was apprehensive. Close inspection of Percy revealed no change, and all I had was the word a guy who lived in a gravy boat. Still, the worst that could happen was she'd get shrill again, but there was an even chance of getting a bit and I figured those odds were good. I propped my bike up against a tree in the front garden and walked up the pathway. There was no car in the carport, which was a good sign - I knew from experience that parents away invariably meant that Bec was open to suggestions. Just as I raised my hand to rap on the door there was a low call from the bushes to the right. 'Pssst! Tony!' I turned and peered into the darkness to see Bec's face peering around the side of the house. 'Over here!' she smiled as I walked over. 'My sister's home,' she explained. 'You haven't met Samantha, have you?' 'I don't think so.' 'Lucky you.' She took my hand and literally led me down the garden path, through the side gate to the gazebo in the back garden. 'She's a frigging nightmare,' she whispered, 'like, you know, her idea of a good time is to watch The Sound of Music six times in a row, and she thinks her pussy is for pissing through. She's really fucking cramping my lifestyle.' I digested this bit of information. Sam Armitage sounded as much fun as a floater in a swimming pool, but at least it meant Bec was pissed off at someone other than me. We reached the gazebo and she sat down in the love seat and looked at me. I could see her eyes shining in the dim garden lights. 'So, where's this great big dick?' she asked. 'Well...um, before I show you I need to explain.' She laughed and sat back. 'So, explain, lover boy.' Bec might not be the brightest spark on the planet but I knew the Genie bit wouldn't work, so I launched into my alternative story. 'I - well, I've been undergoing this hormone treatment, right - you know, for people with my...problem. It's experimental...a medical breakthrough. They've just got certification for human trials and I got selected with six others.' She screwed up her face. 'Human trials? So what did they test it on before?' 'Rabbits.' 'And did it work?' 'Sure. They were rigged like donkeys by the time they finished.' She nodded sagely, as if rabbits with enormous dongs were an acceptable concept. 'So let's see, Tony.' 'Well, there's just one problem.' 'Ah! She leaned forward. 'So here it comes, right. It didn't work on you.' 'Well, no - I mean, I don't know. It only works when the person has sex.' 'So you still have a little dick?' 'For the moment.' 'And you want sex with me to see if it gets bigger?' she grasped the concept quickly. 'Yes. And it will, Bec - I'm sure. And we are talking huge.' There was a long silence. I could see her regarding me, her face expressionless. The silence dragged on and I could see that it hadn't worked. 'Tony.' Her voice was level. 'Yes Bec.' 'That's the most ridiculous fucking story I've ever heard.' 'It's true. Those rabbits were really rigged.' She looked at me like I was an idiot. 'Do you know what I was doing before you came around?' 'Er - no.' 'I was in my room tying to stay out of sight of Sam. I was watching porn.' 'I'm very happy for you. That's my favourite -' 'Shut up,' she said wearily. 'So I was watching this guy with a dick like a truncheon. There was close ups of it...like, it filled the whole computer screen - a beautiful, thick, meaty cock.' Her voice was wistful. 'And there was this chick lowering herself on it and it was sliding ever so slowly into her, stretching it open...it was lovely. And I was on my bed as horny as a nun, thinking of what it would be like to have that jammed up my clout. And then you arrive, with your little dick and some crappy story -' 'You could find out, Bec. I will be like that guy.' 'You'd better be right, Tony. If I find out that you've done this to trick me I'll publish pictures of your little worm all over the internet with your name tattooed on it. It's a good job you've got a short name.' 'So you'll do it?' 'Sure. I need a root, even if it's a bad one.' She stood up. 'We'll do it here. We can't go inside in case prissy little Sam dies of a heart attack at the thought anyone fucking in the house.' She lifted her top and slipped it off in a single fluid movement followed by her skirt, and a moment later she was kneeling on the love seat with her thighs slightly apart. 'So what's keeping you?' she asked. I have to tell you that Bec Armitage has a great body. She might be generous in handing it around, but it is still fucking gorgeous and as I ripped off my clothes I spent a few moments admiring it. My eyes were accustomed to the light by then and I could see the cheeks of her bum shining in the ambient light. Each one was a study in perfection - perhaps not quite as trim as Rachel Pudney's, but still awesome. A little dimple marked the point where each buttock swelled out, round and creamy and smooth, curving gracefully round to the little crease at the top of each thigh before dipping to the cleft between them. It was shrouded in shadow but there was enough light to see the lips of her sex peeping out like a little harbour in a sea of perfumed flesh, and the darker puckered opening above it like a one-eyed sentinel guarding her treasure. Bec shifted a little. 'Come on, Tony. I need -' But I was there. My little guy was up like a trooper and in one slick movement I plunged into her, hearing the soft wet slurp of her twat as she swallowed me. My hands were on her hips, reveling in the firmness of her flesh and the feel of her body around me. 'Ah...fuck! Ah, that's nice,' she murmured. 'Nice' is an unkind word when you're having sex, but I was used to it. I began to pump, slowly. My size means I can't withdraw much, but the feeling was still intense and her sighs gave me encouragement that even though Percy wasn't any bigger, she was still enjoying it. 'How's that?' I asked. 'Ah - ah, that's good. That's really nice,' she said. 'You feel quite...normal, Tony.' I glanced down and saw my cock sawing in and out of her pussy. There was no doubt about it, the shaft was bigger. It was gleaming in the light and I could see the lips of her pussy sort of dragging on it each time it moved. Last time I fucked her I had to wave it around to touch the sides, but now it felt snug. 'It does, doesn't it.' 'Ah - fuck, yes! Yes, that's good, Tony!' She grunted and thrust her bum out a bit more. 'Go faster!' I seized her hips and plunged into her. The porn she'd been watching upstairs must have been good because she was spectacularly wet. It was oozing around the shaft and a sheen of it covered the tops of her thighs. My cock felt tighter still now and I examined it as I pumped, noting the girth and the thickness of the bulging veins on the shaft. I seemed to be standing a little further back, too, and I could feel the head touching something inside her. Bec started moaning as I sawed into her. 'Ah, ah...Jesus, Tony!' Her voice was breathless. 'God, what are you doing to me?' 'It's getting bigger, Bec. I told you it would.' 'Fuck...yes. I feel it. Fuck! Ah, easy...go easy!' But I couldn't go easy. I'd never had a root like this before and I hammered into her, reveling in the tight grip of her greasy, slippery flesh. And it wasn't just that it was tight...it was the length of my strokes, too - delicious, incredible, multiple inches of my shaft sliding inexorably in and out of her...the crimp of her vulva clasping me all the way in and all the way out. And my balls felt bigger too: they were swinging wildly with each thrust, bashing against the soft white flesh of her thighs with soft meaty thumps. 'Jesus!' she moaned. 'Ah, fuck, Tony. You're splitting me open.' The tightness of her cunt was spectacular. It seized my shaft in an iron grip, rippling and crimping with every thrust. I could see the shaft now, huge and dark and as thick as my forearm, and I saw that only half was inside her. Her vulva was stretched as tight as a banjo string and beads of white froth glistened around our point of union, little flecks splattering over her buttocks. She reached back and gripped my thighs, limiting the depth of my strokes, but it didn't matter. I could feel the head battering something deep in her body, bruising the tender flesh of her insides, and I could feel the beginning of my orgasm rising in my brain. I heard her moaning, begging me to stop, but I couldn't...it was glorious...so fucking tight! And so I ploughed into her with renewed vigour and her little whimpers and moans spurred me on, and the tempest of my cum churned in my balls until I could deny it no more. With a final lunge I buried myself as deep as I could. Bec let out a shriek and her hands fluttered over my thighs to try and push me back, but I was skewered inside her and her pussy locked around me like a bitch clasping a dog. My balls contracted in a sudden spasm and a torrent of cum sped down the long, slippery shaft to burst inside her. It was incredible - not so much jets of jism, but spine shattering, mind blowing waves of it, like ocean rollers breaking on the reef of her cunt in a maelstrom of white, churning frothy sperm. She was moaning underneath me, her body still and her legs askew and her twat stretched tight around my great, pulsing shaft that throbbed and bucked and twitched as it unloaded into her. Ah, fuck, it was good! And at last it was done, and for a moment I was unable to move. I could feel her twitching around me, her grip as tight as a rubber band. Her hands fluttered weakly, gesturing, begging me to withdraw, so I stepped back. For a moment it seemed locked inside her and then the great shaft slithered free and bobbed like a python between my legs, the head huge and red and glistening and long strands of cum drooling from its tip. And as I stood there a geyser of sperm spurted from her twat to splatter over the floor of the gazebo and to drench her thighs and the back of her legs. 'Wow!' I said. 'Shit, Bec! You didn't by any chance have any of that already inside you when I arrived?' She turned her head and looked at me weakly. 'Fuck you, you bastard! You split me open, and then drowned me!' Her eyes fell on my cock, and her voice rose an octave. 'Holy crap, Tony! Jesus...look at that!' My cock was still growing - not up, as in stiff, but out, like a great spare leg sprouting from between the two I already had. I could feel the penile flesh sort of popping and creaking, a bit like when you pull your knuckles to crack them, and it twitched and trembled as it grew. The shaft was thicker than my arm now, and the head was almost touching the ground. I stepped back in alarm but of course it was attached to me. The movement caused it to stir briefly, and the tip grazed the rough concrete floor. Finding Rachel Bec stood up on shaky legs and backed away until she was the other side of the Gazebo. 'Holy craaaap!' she said again. 'No wonder I'm split! Look! Look at the size of the fucking thing! Look at your nuts!' But I didn't need to look, because I could already see my cock resting on the cold concrete floor and I could feel my nut sack pressing against the inside of my knees. The weight was becoming oppressive too, and I found myself leaning back to balance myself. For a moment I thought how lucky it was that I hadn't been in Bec when I reached this size - it really would have split her open, but then a wave of self-pity flooded through me. Christ! Fucking Ali Ackbar had screwed me! I'd never be able to have sex again, unless it was with an elephant, and that didn't turn me on at all. From across the side of the Gazebo Bec began to laugh. 'Jesus, Tony! Look at you! It's like a tripod...the three legged man! Fuck me, you're a freak!' The words cut even deeper than the pub thing. Some of the guys in that bar might have had little dicks too - there would have been camaraderie amongst us. But as I looked down at the monstrous growth between my legs I knew that nobody, not a single soul in the world, would have anything like this. I really was, as Bec had so eloquently put it - a freak. * Have you ever tried to ride a bike with a four foot dick? Probably not - but I can tell you it's fucking difficult. My shorts couldn't constrain it, of course, and it hung down to my ankle, flailing around and bumping against the pedal every time my foot went around. I was terrified it would get caught up in the chain or in the spokes of the wheels and so I tried to balance it on the handlebars but that didn't work, as it kept sliding off the slippery chrome. In the end I threaded it up my shirt and rested it on my shoulder, and I put one of my balls either side of the saddle and pedaled slowly home. By the time I got there my scrotum was rubbed and battered and I was feeling pretty angry. I stormed upstairs toward my room. 'Ali!' Suddenly Cassie appeared in the corridor in front of me. 'I need to speak to you, you little pervert!' 'Ah, not now, Cass.' I tried to dodge around her but she was having none of that. 'What was that on the bathroom mirror, you dirty little bugger!' she hissed. 'Uh - hair gel, Cassie. I put too much on and it flicked off. Sorry - should have wiped it off.' I did a quick David Beckham side-step and squeezed past her. 'No it wasn't. It was spunk, you disgusting oaf!' she spat after me. Her voice changed. 'And what's that on your shoulder?' 'Uh - nothing, Cass. Just a traffic cone I knocked off.' I left her hissing in the corridor and shut the door of my room behind me. The light was out and Ali's little jug was still on the floor on its side. I picked it up and put it on the dresser. 'Ali! Come out here you little worm!' There was a scuffling noise from the bottom of the jug. 'Come out here, you fuck! Come and see what you've done!' Was that my voice? It was shrill with anger and fear. He heard me, though, for the gush of dust suddenly sprouted from the lid and a moment later he was there, grinning like an idiot. 'Yes, master?' 'Fuck that, you bastard! Look what you've done!' 'I can't see. Put on the light.' I switched on the light and lifted my cock out. The top few inches were still glistening with Bec's juice, but the rest was dry and cracked, the skin deeply wrinkled and fissured. The head lay on the carpet like a sleeping serpent, and my balls swelled obscenely from between my legs so I was forced to stand like a drunken rodeo rider. 'Ah!' he exclaimed. 'It worked, master.' 'Fuck the master bit, you shit! Look...look what you've done! You've ruined my cock!' His dark eyes roamed over it, taking in the wrinkled skin and the dark patches of wet and dry. 'But I did exactly what you asked,' he said quietly. 'In fact, I was kinder.' 'Kinder! Kinder! So how do you figure that?!' He steepled his fingers and smiled faintly. 'You asked for the biggest penis in the world. That would be Balaenoptera musculus,' he murmured, '- the Blue Whale. It's about ten feet long. I thought it might be too much to manage but I was bound to give what you commanded, so I furnished the penis of the genus Loxodonta instead - a small specimen, I might add.' He glanced at my organ. 'Probably only four foot six, I would say. A big one can run to six.' 'Fuck! Fuck!' I found myself hopping up and down in agitation. 'Fuck, Ali! I meant the biggest human penis in the world, not a fucking loxodontia's, whatever the fuck that is!' 'An African elephant,' he informed me, 'and you should have been more careful in what you asked for. It is your fault, not mine.' 'Crap! You would have known!' I could hear my voice cracking, close to tears. 'Nobody wants a dick like this, not even a frigging elephant!' Ali spread his hands in supplication. 'You got what you asked for, my friend, so there is nothing I can do. Now, if you've finished I have work to do.' He went to turn away. I did my foot hopping a bit more. 'No! No! Do not go! I command you not to go -' He stopped and his face went pale. 'Is that really a command? If it is you will have me by your side for ever.' 'No! Fuck - no! I want you to fix this. Fix it! That's a frigging command!' His eyes narrowed. 'Fix it? What do you mean?' 'I mean I want a twelve-inch human penis instead of this...this fucker!' I tried to wave the monstrous organ at him but it didn't even twitch. Ali folded his arms. 'Be very careful, master. Be very specific. What is it that you command?' For the first time since leaving Bec's a glimmer of hope flared in my brain, and so I struggled to think clearly. 'I want a twelve inch human penis to replace the one I've got - and a pair of balls to match. The whole package must be proportional, of the right colour and dimensions, and in good working order. And I want it now.' A sulky expression crossed his face. 'That is two commands.' 'No, no. It is one. I can't have the...pussy juice thing again, Ali. No woman would let me near her with this.' A pleading tone entered my voice. 'Please, Ali, for pity's sake. And then after the third wish I'll release you and take your lamp wherever you want.' There was a long silence. 'Very well,' he said at last. 'I will do it. But you must tell me the third wish now, and then we are done.' I racked my brains for a moment, and then a vision of Rachel Pudney popped into my mind. Rachel...the beautiful, graceful, kind Rachel, of the glorious arse and rosy round tits. I realised that she was out of my class, but I wanted to fuck her. 'I want Rachel Pudney to desire me.' 'Who?' 'Rachel Pudney...she works at the antique shop in Morris Street.' 'I see.' He said. 'You know I cannot just command that.' 'Why?' 'Because I know the Rachel you mean and I like her. She deserves so much better than you. Besides, there may be many other women in the world called Rachel Pudney, and you may get the wrong one - or all of them.' 'If they all look like the shop Rachel I don't care, and I don't care if you know her either. It's a command, Ali.' Ali shook his head. 'You are a very shallow person, Tony Wilson.' He rested his piercing black eyes on mine. 'Some of them may be old and very ugly. Is that what you want?' He had a point. 'So what do you suggest?' 'I will give you the power. The first person you look at will become infatuated by you.' 'Not person, Ali - woman. I'm a heterosexual, remember, not some shirt lifter. I don't want some random guy chasing me round a supermarket trying to show me his loin of pork.' Ali could not help but laugh. 'Well spotted, Tony. All right - the first woman you look at will be infatuated by you.' 'But I might just see one crossing the street. Some old hag, and if I look at her she'll want sex.' 'Right.' He thought about it for a moment. 'The first woman who looks into your eyes, and you look into hers, will be yours.' 'Just the one woman?' He nodded. 'And it will be forever?' 'Yes.' I thought for a moment. I wasn't a one-woman guy and the thought of a lifetime commitment, even to someone as beautiful as Rachel, was about as welcome as a dose of pox. Suddenly a much better idea popped into my head. 'Could you make it for a short duration only, Ali? Like, any chick I make eye contact with gets hooked, but it only for a day?' He stared at me with his dark eyes. 'And what happens then?' 'I find another one to fu -, I mean, love.' 'I see.' He rubbed the side of his nose pensively. 'You know that you will hurt people this way?' 'They'll get over it.' I smiled my disarming smile at him. 'In fact, I'll be doing them a favour. Nobody really wants to be tied to me for life.' Ali didn't reply but I could see he didn't like my idea, but then he was born in the sixth fucking century or something when commitment was the norm. 'Well?' I prompted, 'can you do that?' 'If you wish.' His voice was sulky. I laughed. 'Then that is the third command. Any woman I make eye contact with will be infatuated by me, until I want it to stop.' 'Are you sure you want me to do this?' 'Yes.' Ali nodded in acquiescence. 'Very well. It is done. Stay away from Rachel.' 'And the 12-inch cock?' 'Yes. It is happening as we speak.' And it was. A rustling sibilance filled the room, rather like the noise of a sheet of cellophane being screwed up, and as I watched the monstrous organ shriveled and drew back towards my body, the skin becoming smoother and lighter. I could feel my balls lifting too, drawing tighter. After a moment it was done. 'And now I will take my leave,' said Ali. His eyes were cold. 'Take me back to the shop - Rachel's shop, tomorrow, Tony.' 'I will. I think I'll go and gaze at Rachel there anyway.' I watched him scowl as he discombobulated and vanished into the jug, and I laughed. The movement caused my new cock to shake and I marveled at its thickness and length and the way the head hung like a ripe apple on the thick branch of a tree. And at that moment the door burst open and Cassie appeared, her face crimson with anger. 'Listen, Tony! I've just found that...that camera in my room! You dirty little -' her eyes fell on my cock and her mouth dropped open in surprise. 'Christ! What's that?' I hurriedly averted my gaze so as not to make eye contact. 'That's me, Cass. That's the new me. What do you think?' And for once in my life I had the pleasure of seeing her struck speechless. * For longer than I can ever remember I have been barely in control of my life. I would lie in my bed each morning and think about the day ahead and a feeling of helplessness would fill my head, because I knew that nothing I did would actually change whatever it was that was going to happen. My life was ordained to be one of disorganization and chaos. But the next morning was different. I opened my eyes and the very first thing I did was draw the sheet aside and look at my cock. It was my new constant - a rock (or perhaps a log) on which I could depend. It lay supine between my thighs, its length and thickness in perfect proportion, and the head that crowned it was like the head of a sleeping snake. I observed its colour and texture, and I stroked it gently until it reared up cobra-headed and as stiff as a stick. I stroked it harder, my fist flying up and down the full length and my brain suffused with waves of pleasure at the sensation. The foreskin had rolled back and the head was swollen and suffused to a dark purple, and the eye gaped at me like the hole in a barrel of a .45 Colt. And as I stroked I imagined some of the girls I would fuck in the next few months: Rachel Pudney naked, her breasts swaying as she bobbed up and down on its length. Jessie Phillips, with her generous mouth and small, firm tits. Susan Crawford, the tight arsed bitch in my final year of school who had nothing good to say but who had the most perfect rack I'd ever seen. Kelly Mason, the cheer leader with the mons enormous...Judith Collins of the amazing green eyes...Rube Connelly, of the...well, hell, I couldn't remember, other than she was soooo fuckable. Ah, so much pussy! I'd been a helpless window shopper in those days - a fly on the wall, watching them all with dreams so much bigger than the sad reality of my life. And now I was on the brink of something new - something so amazing that I could hardly dare to dream. My hand moved swiftly up and down and my mind flitted from one girl to another. I could see Rachel's body swallowing me, the shaft sliding in to disappear somewhere behind her belly. I could hear the little gasps of surprise and pleasure that Kelly would make as I stretched her. I knew, somehow, that Jude Collins would want it doggie, her shimmering eyes fixed on a nearby mirror to watch the length of my cock as it disappeared into her snatch. I guess the knowledge that I really would fuck them soon made the visions real - I could almost smell the oily fragrance of their cunts and hear the sucking noises they made as I rummaged inside them, and I could almost hear the soft words of encouragement each would whisper as they begged me to service then, to do whatever I wanted to their soft, perfumed flesh. All too soon there was the familiar growling in my balls and the specks of light filled my vision like white noise as the intensity of my orgasm built in my brain. Ah, Rachel, Rachel my love! Fuck, fuck, you are as tight as a mouse's twat! My fingers grasped the end of my knob and I squeezed rhythmically, imagining it was her pelvic muscles milking me that it was her face staring down at me with desperate longing as her body waited for the storm of my cum to fill her. When the moment came it was like my brain had just exploded in my head from sheer fucking ecstasy...God, it was good! I writhed in pleasure: waves of it surging through me as my organ twitched and jolted in my hand like a high pressure hose, squirting jet after jet of burning jism into the air. Each spurt flew like a flock of migrating swallows high above my head to strike the wall, higher than I had ever cum before, and I felt a fine rain of spunk fall upon me as it splattered against the paintwork to rebound in millions of tiny droplets. And in my mind's eye Julie my high school teacher was there, her face painted with the product of my balls - laughing as my sperm dribbled and drooled over her cheeks and into the sockets of her eyes and the cavity of her mouth. Her white teeth were dulled by a clinging layer of it, and her tongue was coated with creamy rivulets that dripped to the back of her throat. There were ribbons of my jism in the glossy black strands of her hair too, and across the creamy white skin of her neck, and she laughed as she realised how much there was. Ah! Julie Smith! The subject of so many of my wet dreams but so far beyond my reach. Not any more. Perhaps I'd call around when her hubby was out and make eye contact with her, and she'd crouch naked on the floor with her cunt in my face, begging me to fuck her. And then it was done. The final few dribbles oozed from the head like gleaming strips of pearl on the shiny purple skin. I released my cock and I watched as it settled on my belly like a sleeping snake, and for a moment I wondered in whose snatch it would be when it next spurted. The answer came to me as I drifted off to sleep. Anyone's I wanted. * The bell on the shop door tinkled lightly as I entered, and I looked quickly around to see if Rachel was there, but there was no sign of her. I set Ali's lamp down on a table strewn with other brass ornaments and I patted it once briefly with a silent whisper of thanks before moving away. 'Hello?' A female voice floated from somewhere at the back of the shop. 'Sorry - won't be a moment.' 'Right. Take your time.' There was a clattering and banging from the storeroom for a few moments and then silence. The light in shop was subdued but it was enough to see the tables with piles of books and the shelves piled with odd bits crockery and other trash. It was dirty, too: the walls were stained and musty and there were cobwebs in the high rafters above my head. I wondered how Rachel could spend each day cooped up in such a depressing place. And then it all changed when she stepped into the room. It was as if a brilliant luminescence had entered that dark and gloomy place, illuminating not just the dusty shelves and shabby walls but everything else around it. She walked across the floor in a little blue dress and matching shoes and a crisp white blouse, and it was as if someone had turned on a spotlight powered by her beauty and the strength of her personality. She moved with the lithe grace of a panther - a sort of slinky, sinuous glide across the floor that made you look to see how the hell she did it. Her hair was tied up with a white ribbon, and it shone like polished anthracite in the dusty sunlight that streamed from the grimy skylight above her. Her face was more oval than I remembered, and her eyes were like chips of sapphire. She held an old vase in one hand and her other was raised towards me in greeting. My mouth dropped open and I watched with a racing heart as she moved towards me. 'Can I help you, Tony?' she said. 'Er, um...Rachel,' I croaked. She smiled, and the sun seemed to fade in comparison. 'Tony! How lovely to see you! Can I help you at all?' Inexplicably, I glanced quickly at her hands. You can tell a lot about someone by looking at their hands, like if they work too hard, or are dirty, or if they smoke or if they are married. Rachel's were slim and graceful, the nails a pearlescent pink and her fingers unadorned by rings . My eyes flicked back to her face. There were little lines around her eyes and around the soft pink lips, but overall the package was as beautiful as I remembered. I wondered what her mother looked like to produce such an extraordinary daughter. Would Ali's gift only work with one woman at a time, I wondered, or could I have her and the mother together? I could feel King Kong stirring a little in my pants at the thought. 'Ah, well - yes,' I said, at last. I reached up and took off my sunnies '- I just dropped by to say hi.' 'Well, it's lovely to see you, too, she replied. 'How are you going with that jug I sold you?' 'Fine,' I said, and I looked into her face. Did I say that she had blue eyes? Well, they were astonishing...and as they looked into mine a shadow seemed to flitter over them like a cloud passing briefly over the sun: a moment where the brilliant reflectiveness of those clear windows was turned off to reveal what was behind them, to bare her very soul. And in that instant I was filled with a sudden wave of absolute, unbridled, unparalleled love that possessed me, sweeping aside the petty little worries of my life, filling me with an emotion of such power that I knew, without a shadow of doubt, that she was the only reason for my existence and I would do anything that she asked. And I could see she felt the same about me. It was as if someone had suddenly stamped the words 'I love Tony Wilson' on her forehead, and she stood there with her lips slightly apart and we gazed at each other as if struck dumb, and nothing, nothing else in the world seemed to matter any more. I reached up and cupped her face in my hand and she closed her eyes. The warmth of her skin was like a furnace, radiating through my skin to enter my veins and arteries, surging like neat adrenalin to reach my racing heart. And as we stood there it was as if time slowed to a crawl, and the colour and shape and form of things around me took on a crystal clarity, and I could perceive things that had been invisible to me before. Finding Rachel The third day of the trip is a get there day. You spend all day and night reaching Mexico, so you have to find your entertainment elsewhere. Most of the daylight hours involve trying to master your tan, so that is where we were headed. I didn't want the noise from the pool area, so we found some deck chairs close to the front of the ship to use. The weather was beautiful, and it reminded me that back home it was currently 34 degrees F. "You guys want some company?" "Hi Rachel, hi Sara, please join us. We'd love the company." "Thanks, Jeremy, how are you doing, Jason? I see you haven't thrown him overboard yet." "Hi Rachel. Yeah, I can't throw him over, he's my ride home when we land. Of course I could always take the light rail home. Hi Sara, you look lovely, as usual." Sara turned a few shades of red before thanking him and sitting down next to him. I waited patiently to see what Rachel would wear for tanning. She pulled her shirt over her head to reveal a fairly modest bikini top. It covered all of her ample chest, which I was guessing was about a 36C. I usually don't like big breasts, but hers looked really nice encased in her top. She took off her baggy shorts and we saw her matching bottoms, the same magenta color, and basically the same size as most panties. I usually like to see lots of skin, but the fact that she tried to keep covered, to a point, made her even more sexy. "You look amazing. Absolutely stunning. Write it down, I'm speechless. It doesn't happen very often" I said. "I know it's not proper to ask a lady this, but how old are you?" "I don't mind at all. I'm 30. Let me guess yours. I'd say 34. How did I do?" "One off, I'm 35. So when we are an old married couple, I'll be 70 and you'll only be 65. What do you say?" "I'd say you are getting a little ahead of yourself there. Let's just take it day by day." Right away my brain was working overtime. Did that mean I had a chance, or was she just teasing me? While I pondered that, I decided to be a gentleman and bring everyone a drink. When I got back Rachel was on her stomach. Her butt looked so incredible. She didn't need a thong to look good, she could do it the natural way. "Are you going to stare at my ass all day or are you going to give me my drink?" "I'm sorry, here you are. I didn't mean to stare, but my mother told me to never pass up seeing something beautiful." She blushed and didn't reply. "I just thought of something. Have you ever been to Mazo Beach?" She turned to look at me and decided to reply this time. "Yes, I have. I'm not going back unless a guy goes with me, though. When I was there it was me and about 50 naked guys. They all try to strut their stuff going by, and it's just uncomfortable. How do you know about Mazo?" "I've always wanted to go to a nude beach, and that one is the closest one around. I can't believe you went nude. I wish I would have been there. Maybe when we get to Cozumel we can visit a nudist beach. Or you could get up right now and go to the top deck. It doesn't allow nude, but you can go topless. It really saddens me that they only allow topless on that deck. Why not on the whole ship? And if they allowed nude, I would be nude all the time. Did I say nude enough times?" She thought it was funny that I was stammering again. "I'll try a beach in Cozumel if you do. I bet the view will be very nice. The beach, too, of course." We had smoked most of the afternoon, so I told her that I had to get cleaned up for supper. "We are staying on the Empress deck, room 243 if you ever want to call or stop by. You and Sara are welcome anytime." "Thanks for the invite, I just might do that. See you at supper." Supper was nice, and this time we spent more time talking to Don and Marge. We found out they were on a second honeymoon. Don got embarrassed by the chorus of "awwww"s that came from the table, but Marge accepted them. I could see she was the romantic of the two, and that she adored her husband. I think all guys would want to have their wife still look at them that way after 25 years of marriage. Don was a lucky guy. Later that night Jason and I went to the comedy show. It wasn't the greatest, but it was something to do and better than sitting in our room all night. Jason and Sara had arranged to meet on deck at 10, so I went back to our room. The phone was ringing when I entered, and I just caught it. "Hey you, I thought maybe I had missed you. Do you want to go for a walk up top?" "Hey Rachel, I'd love to. I'll meet you starboard side as soon as you can get there. See you in a few." I did a quick hair and teeth check in the mirror before speed walking to our meeting place. She was already there, and her short hair was blowing in the wind and looking very sexy. She greeted me with a hug, the best hug I've ever had, and took my hand. I'm surprised we didn't walk into or trip over anything, because we walked and looked into each other's eyes. We walked until we found a spot where we could be alone and stopped there. "You know, you can't fool me," she said. "What do you mean?" "I mean I see thru your sense of humor. You come across as cocky and sarcastic, but under that you are a very kind, caring man. I've known since that first night at supper that I was going to kiss you." She raised herself on her toes and I leaned down to meet her kiss. Our first kiss was electric. I've always been a cynical guy, and I would never have believed that you could feel something like that from a kiss. I was wrong. Her lips were so smooth, and her touch lingered as she slowly pulled away. She kissed me again before pulling away and staring into my eyes. "That was nice," she said in the biggest understatement of the decade. "It's your turn, kiss me." I moved my hands to her face and gently held her along her jaw line. I turned my head and kissed her on the lips before kissing her nose and forehead. "Thanks for a wonderful evening, Jeremy, I'll call you tomorrow morning before we leave. Goodnight." I was left with a hug and kiss goodbye, and a bad case of blue balls. I floated back to my room and found Jason getting ready for bed. "How did your night go?" I asked. "It went really well. We ended up making out for like an hour on the topless deck. Nobody is up there at night, so we were basically alone. How did you and Rachel do?" "She kissed me. It was so good, bro. I've never felt like this before. If we hit that iceberg I was asking about earlier and I die, I'll die happy. It sounds like she is going with me into Cozumel, is that all right? I'm sorry it's so last minute." "It's all good. I asked Sara to go with me, so I'm glad I'm not ditching you. I don't mean to be rude, but I have to get some sleep. Goodnight." I fully expected to lay awake all night thinking about her, but I fell asleep. I woke up the next morning feeling very content. I shaved, showered and tried to make myself look presentable. I was replaying the kiss from Rachel when the phone snapped me out of my daydream. "Hey good looking, how about you and me and breakfast. 20 minutes, I'll meet you there. Almost forgot- good morning!" "Yes, it sure is a good morning. I'll see you in 20 then. Bye." She was already bossing me around, but I didn't care. If it meant seeing her, I was fine. Breakfast went well, and we were soon pulling up to the pier in Cozumel. We followed the signs to our shuttle bus and talked until we got to our beach. I had made all these grand plans for my trip, and the only scenery I am seeing is two green eyes penetrating into mine. The bus driver didn't kill us so I thanked him on my way by. We parted ways for a moment to go change into our swimming suits. Being a guy meant that I was done 5 minutes before she was. I'm also pretty smart, so I didn't say anything about it. She came out in a one piece suit this time. I usually don't like that type, but hers really brought out her shape and was very complimentary of her figure. "I see you approve. I've been snorkeling before and found that with a bikini you spend a lot of time making sure nothing has come off. This way I can maneuver all I want and not worry. Besides, it makes my butt look really good, doesn't it?" "Yes," I said, "I do believe it does. Very nice. Shall we go, ma'am?" "Lead the way, Mr. Goodwrench." We picked up all of our paraphernalia and headed for the water. I'd never gone snorkeling before, so it took a little time to get accustomed to it. Rachel showed me how to do things, and soon we were off amongst the fish and coral reef. We floated along holding hands. We were in our own little world there. Fish of all colors and sizes floated peacefully under us. It was as if these beautiful creatures were drawn to us, and we were drawn to them. Both of us were getting pretty tired so we made our way back to shore. We turned in our equipment and picked up our loosely guarded bags. We checked the time and saw that we had just over an hour before the bus was to take us back. "Let's go for a walk on the beach," she said as she took my hand. We walked down about 200 yards and followed the beach around a small bend. On the other side of this bend were perhaps 200 naked men and women. Some were with families, some were alone, but for the most part it was couples. Rachel paused when she saw what the beach was, so I stopped. I learned a very long time ago to be quiet and let women think. She squeezed my hand harder, looked me in the eye, and started walking towards the people. She found the spot she wanted and we stopped. Both of us had taken towels from the ship, so those were put down first. She looked to be pretty nervous, and I was scared to a point, but mostly I was excited. I already knew that I loved this woman, and I was going to see her naked for the first time. "You first," she said. She watched with great interest as I untied my shorts and started to pull them down. Luckily it was somewhat fluffed up for her, I didn't want her to see it when it was totally deflated. No guy is ever big enough, so any help is welcomed. I hit the pubic hair and was at the make or break point. I didn't stop there, and now Little Jeremy and the boys were out for her viewing pleasure. "Wow" escaped her lips, and that is the magic word that all men strive to hear. Wow is much better than a laugh or a disappointed look. I didn't want to break her concentration so I just waited for her to finish. I watched as her eyes went from my penis to my eyes. "Your turn." With her eyes never leaving mine, she peeled the shoulder straps off and began to roll the wet bathing suit off of herself. This was one of those times in life that things appear to be in slow motion. I know from first hand experience that car accidents are that way, and now I learned that watching a woman undress for the first time merit's a slow motion event. I was just starting to get a peek at her areolas, and I had to convince my eyes that I couldn't blink until this was done. Her suit hung up for the slightest moment in time on her breast, but just enough to see her nipple bounce back after being released. The bottoms of her breasts were now visible and I took in every detail. Her breasts were fairly big, maybe a big B or small C, and they were perfectly round. I was impressed that they were still perky, considering she was now 30. They stood proudly out, and her areolas were pink and very noticeable against her dark skin. Her nipples were perhaps a half inch wide and stood out almost as much. I had paused there long enough to realize I was missing the unveiling, and I caught up as her suit was rolled past her belly button. Her stomach was so smooth and firm, leading me to the conclusion that she must work out quite often. Next I watched as the V started to show. I find this region incredibly sexy. It's like it was designed to draw our eyes to it, and then you keep following it to the promised land. It was at this point that I noticed that she was totally bald. I love shaved pussies. It must have been an act of God that I wasn't sprouting a painful erection because I glanced down and saw it was still only at half mast. Back to the slow motion, I could now see her bulge being uncovered, and what seemed like seconds later, her shaved vagina was there for all to see. I don't remember the suits final journey down her legs, as I was preoccupied at the moment. "Oh my God" was all I could muster. Before I knew it she was already face down on the towel. I felt a little strange standing there by myself so I joined her. I decided I wanted a tan on the front, so I laid down on my back. "Jeremy, will you do me a favor?" "Anything. I mean, sure, what do you need?" "Will you put lotion on my back, I don't want to get burned. The lotion is in the side pocket of my bag." I reached over her to grab the bag. As I did I felt my penis ever so slightly brush against her leg. I sat up and started at her shoulders and worked down. When I made it to her waist, I teased along her crack while applying the lotion. I didn't get any resistance so I made an executive decision to continue on. I'd hate to have her burn her butt. That can be painful. I let the lotion drip onto each cheek before I moved my hands to them. Her ass felt so smooth, and so soft, I felt like I had died and gone to heaven. I made sure that I didn't miss one inch of skin, going back over places I had already covered. On the southern end of the trip I got a little too close and bumped her pussy lips. I heard a sharp intake of breath, but she didn't stop me. Realizing I had taken too much time, I did her legs quick and announced that the job was complete. I asked if I could use some for my sensitive area, and she said "knock yourself out." Rachel watched as I applied it to my very white skin, so I made sure that my private parts were protected as well. I may have given too much attention to Little Jeremy, because he was now about ¾ hard. But hey, I wanted to be safe. "Jeremy, guys are supposed to do that in private," she said with a naughty grin. "I've created a monster." We both got a good laugh from her joke and it put us at ease. It felt amazing to be naked in front of all those people. The only time I felt funny was when a family with kids would walk by. Rachel finally felt comfortable enough to roll over, and soon had her fabulous body displayed for all to see. "I'll handle to lotion this time, dear." "Fine, be that way. I'm just trying to help out" I said. "You are so funny." I wasn't the only one watching her apply lotion to her breasts and groin area. Most of the guys, and some girls, were watching the free show. We spent most of our time talking, and for a good portion of that time we held hands. My penis was now pretty much flaccid, and I didn't hear any complaints from her. That was a good sign. I got looks from females of all ages, too, so I was feeling pretty good. A nude beach can be a great confidence boost. Sadly, our time was up. We changed back into our street clothes and bid adieu to our little slice of heaven. I pulled Rachel to a semi-hidden spot by a sand dune and kissed her. We kissed for a few minutes before I spoke up. "Rachel, thank you for a wonderful day in paradise. The island is pretty nice, too." "You are welcome, big boy, and thank you. I had a great time with you. Plus, I finally got to see you naked. Thus the 'big boy' reference." "My, what a naughty little girl you are. I'm glad I got to see you, too. I knew I would from the second I saw you walk up to the table. It's not a cocky thing, it's just that I've never felt anything like I felt when I saw you. It's like I knew at that moment that you were the one for me. We better get going unless you want to swim back to the 'Ecstasy.'" Not 30 feet down the beach she said "I feel the same way." The bus dropped us off at the pier again, and we shopped until we had to leave. We both bought some knick knack's for our families and friends back home. Our time was officially up so we walked one block back to the pier. We chose a spot up on top of the tender and settled in for the ride back. Rachel rested her head on my shoulder, so I put my arm around her and we rode back in content silence. We kissed and parted ways upon arriving, and even though we would see each other at supper, it was still hard watching her leave my sight. Jason was already back from his jaunt, and we compared notes. He and Sara had a great time walking around the island. He showed me all the presents he bought for his family and asked how my day went. I told him about snorkeling, about the things we bought, and oh yeah, the nude beach. "You saw her naked? How did you pull that off?" "We were done snorkeling, walked down the beach and there it was. I went first and then she joined me. She shaves, by the way." "You lucky bastard, all I've done is felt Sara's boobs." "It wasn't even sexual, Jason. It was comfortable and nice. The only thing we did was hold hands. I put lotion on her butt, but that was just me being the helpful guy I am." "Yeah, helpful. To you or her? Get dressed, we have to meet them for supper soon." Supper went well, and we all behaved for Don and Marge. They had taken the tour of the Mayan ruins and told us all about it. It sounded really interesting, but I wouldn't have seen all of Rachel that way. So I decided I made the right choice. After supper we all went to the illusionist's show in the theater hall. It was a bit of a let down because he couldn't make everyone's clothes disappear. The nude beach part had sunk in enough for me to know that I really liked being naked in public. It was part liberating, part exhibitionism that made it so fun. Plus almost every female on that beach saw my wiener. I think I'll leave the part about going to the beach out of my recap for my folks when I get back. I have a feeling that they will be meeting Rachel soon, so I'll leave her in the story. As this was our last night on the ship, we went for a moonlight walk. The temperature was cooler than previous nights, so we had to snuggle to keep warm. Whenever we found ourselves alone we would kiss. Our kissing was getting hotter, too. A few times we were lost in a make out session only to become aware that people were around us. We'd just smile politely and move on. We ran into Jason and Sara, and they asked if it was okay if they took the ladies room for the evening. I said I was fine with that, and after a long pause Rachel agreed. Sara pulled Jason after her, leaving a "thank you guys" behind them. "Jeremy, we need to talk about something. I really, really like you, but I don't want to have sex yet. Are you okay with that?" "Of course I am. I never pictured you as being the type who sleeps with a guy right away. It will be amazing just to have you in the room, to wake up to your face. I give you my word that no sex will be had." "See, I told you that under that sarcasm is a wonderful man. I know you wouldn't try anything with me, that is why I agreed to do it. I've only been with a couple of guys, and I've been hurt pretty bad. I just want to be careful with you. I think I am already in love with you, but if you can wait for me, I would appreciate it." "I'll wait as long as it takes, Rachel. I know that I am in love with you, so I'll be there when the time is right. So, does that mean that we can't do 'other' things too?" "There you go being silly again, you goofball. If you can keep a secret I'll tell you something about myself: I love doing 'other' things. Let's go see your room." We made our way back to my room and I gave her the tour. Yep, still being silly since all the rooms, except for the rich people rooms, were pretty much the same. I slid the beds so that they were together, and we settled in to watch the movie on the ships only channel. We were both pretty tired when the credits finally rolled, so we got ready for bed. I brushed my teeth first and changed into my pajamas. Finding Rachel She brushed her teeth with her finger and changed to join me. She came out of the bathroom totally naked. She saw my mouth drop and my eyes get big, so an explanation was given. "I don't exactly have my clothes here, and besides, you've already seen me naked. In public, even. So I figured I'd just be comfy. Why don't you join me, you look pretty silly being the only one wearing clothes." You can't argue with that logic, so I saved some time in the morning by packing my pajamas away then. She climbed into our beds first, saying "are you going to join me or not?" I ran across the small room and jumped onto the bed, which elicited a big laugh from her. She held the covers up so I could join her, and I moved in next to her. I could say that we had hot, passionate sex all through the night, but that would be a lie. We did spend a significant amount of time kissing, and bodies were examined closely, but no sex, as promised. I'll try to be a gentleman and not give many details, but I will say that I finally got to feel her breasts, and that her playing with my dick fit into the 'others' category. But like I told her, I can wait. When I woke up next to her in the morning, I knew right there and then that I wanted to wake up to her for the rest of my life. She found me staring at her when she finally woke up. "Good morning my wonderful man. I really like waking up to your smiling face. I'm also really horny, so let me see that big cock of yours." Wow, she sure was horny. She hadn't talked like this before. I obliged her, of course, but as soon as she had gotten me hard the phone rang. Sara and Jason both were on the phone asking us out to breakfast. We accepted and got dressed. She apologized for leaving me with an erection, but promised that it would be taken care of soon. I reminded her that this was our last day. In fact, we had to leave the ship soon after breakfast. I must have looked confused, because she told me everything. "Babe, I didn't want to tell you my news until I was sure we were for real. I quit my job last week, and this is me and Sara's last time we'll get to see each other for a while." "Uh, Rachel, I still don't get it." "I took a job at the Pontiac and Jaguar dealer on Broadway. As we speak movers are bringing my things to Minneapolis. We're going to be in the same town now, so we're going to be together. I love you, Jeremy." "I love you, too."