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Holly Jones is Rescued

By: Egmont Grigor



CHAPTER 1

Driving rain and the falling temperature finally drove Holly Jones off the walking track that followed the tops along the mountain range. She could see a back-country road a couple of thousand feet below and decided to retreat to it, hoping someone would come along and take pity on her.

The descent was slow because of the loose gravel slides, extensive areas of slippery native grasses and groves of native trees and shrubby vegetation the New Zealanders called bush. Being a seasoned tramper (hiker) Holly didn't worry when she lost sight of the road, because down was down, impossible to mistake on steep terrain and no matter what angle she deviated she'd hit the road, eventually.

Holly actually fell onto the road. Climbing down a small cutting the ground gave way. She slithered on her ass, leaning against her backpack in the hope it would stay with her and mouthing an obscenity she struck hard and bounced twice over the unsealed road. She lay still for a minute, recovering her breath and learning to live with her injured pride because she always endeavored to stay sure-footed to avoid injury.

Cold but with damp socks warmed by her body heat and hungry, she lay back on the toe of the slope and fell asleep only to be jolted out of it she didn't know how long later by the blast of a vehicle horn. 

The attractive America with a muddy face walked around the right-hand-drive vehicle. Wiping her nose with the back of the sleeve of her woolen bush jacket she eyed the driver who'd wound down his window and said "Good afternoon."

"Hello. Where's your mate?"

"What mate?"

"The person you're tramping with. Or are you a stupid Yank walking the tops out here alone?"

"Guilty. My cousin became overwrought because of the unremitting rain. She hitched a ride back to the city yesterday."

Holly thought she spotted the start of a smile.

"Mud makes you look ugly."

"Oh god, do I have mud on my face?"

"My ex wife used to come to bed with her face plastered in the stuff, only she paid a fortunate for the crap."

"Oh, how fascinating," Holly said sarcastically. This time his mouth cut open with a grin.

"May I use your phone to call a cab?"

He chuckled. "Miss, are you for real?"

"Yes I'm Holly Jones."

"I meant the nearest settlement is about eight miles from here. The nearest settlement with a cab is sixty miles from here and you are in the wop-wops. There is no mobile phone coverage out here."

"Well then?"

"Well then what?"

Holly spat exasperatingly, "Where's the offer for warmth, food and shelter?"

"It's not forthcoming. You are the sexiest looking female I've sighted in yonks and I live alone."

"You have just come from somewhere. You must have seen females."

"Yeah, with a bit of imitation you could call them that."

Holly was ready to cry. "I'm tired, cold, damp and hungry."

"Jesus, why didn't you say so? Get out of the way, I'm opening the door."

For a fleeting moment Holly thought of sex. If the curly blond shaved and had a good wash he would be attractive. Actually he was gorgeous.

"Strip off to your bra."

"What?"

"Christ, can't you Yanks understand simple English. Remove your top clothing down to your brassiere."

"Why?"

"To get the damp clothing away from your trunk where your lungs are. You put on my bush shirt that will be warmed from my body and be doing that you are unlikely to develop a chill with the possibility of complications such as pneumonia."

"Oh."

"Now you are turning coy Holly. Listen, I've seen more bobbling tits than you've had hot dinners. DO IT!"

The shout startled Holly into doing what she was told.

"Christ you didn't tell me you weren't wearing a bra. Now I'm embarrassed. Here, put this on," he said, hauling off the thick red and black checked woolen shirt. He was left wearing a black muscle tee that Kiwis call a bush singlet. She felt the warmth against her skin as the coarse wool cloaked her and wondered what he impressed with her breasts.

Holly recognized the vehicle as an Australia-made Holden utility (pickup). He tossed her backpack and discarded clothing into the cargo tray.

"Go around and hop in."

"Will I be safe?"

"Yeah, providing you don't bend over in front of me when we're in the cabin."

"Is that a joke?"

He grinned, displaying good teeth.

As they moved off the guy introduced himself at Blair Andrews. "You know what I said back there I'd seen more tits than you'd had hot dinners?"

"Yes."

"You sport the best pair I've ever seen."

"Mr Andrews I'd appreciate you not talking about my body."

"Oh yeah, right. I learned in town today that the average price of crossbred wool has fallen another 80c a kilo."

That was greeted in silence.

"The Aussies are in big trouble in the cricket test in Melbourne."

"Blair if it will help you can talk about my body."

"Thank you Holly. I no longer feel rebuffed and partly muzzled. I'll now try to talk about things of possible interest to you. What part of the States are you from?"

"Chicago at present. Actually I grew up in Albany..."

"The capital of New York State. I've been there."

"You have?"

"Listen Holly, you're not the only one who travels."

"Oh, I apologize. I had no intention of being rude. Most New Zealanders I've spoken to who've visited America beyond California mostly have been to New York but you're the first one I've met who has been to Albany."

"Well my sister Eileen lives in Boston and is a surgeon married to a surgeon. I drove from New York City to visit them four years ago and stopped over two nights in Albany when I discovered it was running a summer jazz festival. I was amazed to find the city is an inland port, with ocean-going ships docking there, with vessels sailing through the canal system linking the Great Lakes and coming all the way up the Hudson from New York City about 140 miles away."

"Well, we are a long way from there in this remote area, aren't we?" Holly said philosophically.

She told Blair her parents had moved back to Illinois while she was at college and she now lived near the university where she worked in Chicago.

They proceeded in silence, Blair driving carefully looking ahead for washouts. It had been raining heavily and the downpour had resumed. It was familiar southwest weather in the foothills of the West Coast of the South Island. It blew in across the Tasman Sea complete with a nip added off the Southern Ocean that extends from Antarctica to 60 degrees south.

"Oh god," Holly said. They had turned off the graveled road and were now on a muddy track and about to move along a cutting on the side of a narrow gorge. She clutched her seatbelt and sat frozen, alarm on her face.

"Keep calm," Blair grinned. "If you want to live remotely there has to be trade-offs, and this dickey access is one I inherit."

"Dickey?"

"A colloquialism for impaired."

"Isn't colloquialism a big word for you?" asked the 32-year-old college assistant professor in English Lit.

The guy, who appeared to be two or three years older than her grinned and said cheeky bitch and Holly surprised herself by accepting that retort as a compliment. She then returned to sitting very still, eyes huge as she looked at the little slips from the bank ahead of them. The cutting was only a little wider than the vehicle. On Blair's side there was a sheer drop of hundreds of feet -- well, give or take a few feet.

Perhaps sensing her fear Blair said, "No sudden movement is helpful but Ida is four-wheel-drive and that makes her sure-footed."

Holly remained fearful but looked at him with an unanswered question. He'd named his pickup after a woman with a rather old-fashion name. What was this?

He read the question. "Named after my late maternal grandmother, Ida Blake. Of all her grandchildren I was her pet. She never said it but the other kids knew and ragged me for it. She left me this tract of 1000 acres of largely native beech forest inherited from her grandfather. I came under pressure from the Government that wanted to buy the land to preserve the forest so sold, but kept this 10-acre strip that leads up to her summer house."

"Your grandmother drove through this gorge?"

"No, like you she was a tramper. She walked in. I had the track widened to take a vehicle."

"Why would your grandmother want a summer house in such difficult country?"

"It was her grandfather's permanent home; he was a recluse. She used to come here in late spring till early autumn to write poetry."

"And she brought you here, but no one else, just like her grandfather did to her?"

"Christ, how did you know that?"

"Oh I couldn't possibly have known it. I'm one of those stupid Yanks you spoke about earlier."

They were back into open country, although very steep, and she was relaxing and so she looked and enjoyed watching his face color.

"Oh, did I say that?" That was answered with her friendliness smile.

They arrived at the cabin. It appeared to be solidly built, with closed shutters over the windows including a very large window that would give the view down the slope and to the sea about two miles away. She thought it would be old and smelly inside.

"Well, here we are. Doesn't it fit in well environmentally? It looks very much like it was when built in 1901."

Oh god, it will be primitive inside as well, she thought.

"It has been updated over the years. I ripped out all the linings and insulated the walls and ceiling before relining it but don't expect a typically ritzy American home."

"It looks er homely. For your information millions of Americans live in substandard homes."

"Oh, am I being smacked?"

"Oh no, I'm just very tired."

"We don't have running water but there is a small generator that charges batteries so we do have electric light, no air conditioning of course. Cooking and heating is supplied by an old fashion wood-fired range but I do bring in coal for it."

"How do I get water for a bath?"

"There is no bath," Blair said as they stopped.

Holly burst into tears and he leaned over and patted her awkwardly. She clung to him and cried down to intermittent sobs. 

"There, you needed to do that," he said manfully. "You are a woman."

Ohmigod, she thought, thinking she was a prisoner in a "I'm Tarzan, you Jane' scenario.

"Go in while I grab you gear."

"Give me the key."

"There is no key. Way out here people wouldn't take much because they'd have to carry it but most people really determined to get in would require only warmth, food and shelter so it's open access. The simplicity of such hospitality would leave even the most mean-minded intruder rather impressed, giving him no reason to ransack the cabin."

"Him? That's rather sexist."

"Ninety-nine-point-nine women wouldn't wreck someone else's home unless in the company of unruly men they wish to impress."

"Oh, I'd have to agree with that. You are not a Simpleton are you?"

"I leave the judgment for others."

"What is your vocation?"

"Out here I'm a Child of Nature."

"Do you hike?"

"We call it tramp. Yes, and climb mountains and ski and sit in the forest you guys call woods and listen and contemplate."

"Ohmigod Tarzan, you and I have some things in common."

"Tarzan?"

"Oh, did I say that?"

He just grinned.

Only when she was inside looking around did Holly realize he'd not revealed his occupation. Ah well, plenty of time to ferret that out.

Blair came in and threw her backpack and clothes on to the bare floorboards. "I'll wash those for you later."

"And where will I be?"

"Asleep."

The simplicity of that astonished her. Of course she would; she was exhausted. She went into the bathroom and sat on the 'can'. That description was apt; it was a high bucket with a toilet seat over it. She sat contemplating until he knocked and came in.

"Excuse me?" she said indignantly.

"It's okay, I can't smell anything offensive."

Holly sat, mouth open, and decided it was not worth making a scene.

He climbed up on a small stepladder with a bucket of lightly steaming water.

"I left this morning banking up the range fire with coal, so this water is lovely and warm. I tip this bucket into the header tank up there and get one more bucket and that's your lot. When the water is finished your shower is finished. There is no control, the water finds it's way down the narrow outlet pipe and into the shower head once you pull the string you see in the shower that opens the release I've just closed."

"How primitive."

"Would you prefer to skip the shower?"

"Oh Blair, I'm so sorry."

"That's okay. How long is it since you've had a good fuck?"

Holly crapped herself. At least she managed to pass the stool that had stubbornly refused to shift until that terrible man had shocked her.

Red-faced she said, "You can't talk to a lady like that."

"Yeah agreed and as sure as hell they are thin on the ground these days, aren't they?"

Holly would have throttled him had he not be standing on the stepladder and had not been so tall. She could rip his balls out of course.

He went out to pour the second bucket of water so she completed at the toilet and scrambled to her feet and stood waiting apprehensively.

"There you go," he said, climbing down with the empty galvanized bucket. "Do you need me to undress you or can you manage?"

The withering look gave him the answer. 

Holly said, "I noticed there was only one bed."

"Yeah, we share. Any further questions?"

"I don't wish to be fucked as you call it."

Blair grinned. "You'll be okay; I'm not expecting visitors."

Holly wondered what the fuck did that mean? But he'd left, closing the door, and he was still laughing at his own wit if it could be called that. An explanation would have been helpful. 

"Oh god, I would have been better off staying up on the tops and dying of exposure," she sobbed. She grabbed the biodegradable shampoo, coated her hair and pulled the thin piece of rope. As the quite generous spray of water hit her and she saw it turn muddy as it ran from her face she sighed and began washing her hair quickly and soon almost felt like singing. Almost.

Fatigue set in and Holly only retained dim memory of being handed a plate of canned beans on toast and wolfing it down, sitting on a chair in front of the stove, dressed only in her panties, until being wrapped in a rug.

"As snug as a bug in a rug," he crooned.

He was so close that she managed to pull his head to her and she kissed him and she said, "Thank you for saving me. You are my hero."

Pulling away he said, "Ah, what a lovely thing to say Jane."

"Jane?"

"Me Tarzan, you Jane," he said and dropping low went to fetch his dinner attempting to imitate a gorilla.

Holly half-finished her meal and felt herself slipping away. Dimly she was aware of the plate being taken from her and being carried to the big bed.

Sometime later Holly awoke to feel the bed rocking. Although startled she realized it was just Blair climbing in beside her. He snuggled against her and she felt his hand slide down the front of her panties.

She thought oh god he was going to fuck her so opened wide. But he remained motionless, content to just cup her vulva. She fell safe and fell asleep.

CHAPTER 2

Cold air coming in through the open windows, shutters obviously clipped back, hit Holly as she sat up and rubbed her eyes. She was as sure as anyone could be that she hadn't been fucked in her sleep. She was grateful about that until her mind turned on her and asked what was it about her that Blair didn't like?

She froze and felt a little afraid. What was it? And then she worked it out. Apart from the tweeting and a couple of shrill cries of birds there was no other sound. She was captured in silence. Pulse rate rising Holly climbed out of bed and padded to the open door and looked out, thinking Christ it was cold. She hugged just under her breasts, hands grabbing the opposite arm and then she saw something that took her breath away. Him.

Blair was standing in what appeared to be a sandpit, wearing only boxers. Holly's lips were licked as she gawked. His body was awesome -- muscular and without much apparent body fat and straining tendons and muscle flexing as he danced in his sandpit. God, if it weren't for his irreverent ways, humor that she struggled to cope with and earthiness she could easily think she was with the man of her dreams. Realizing he was going through morning exercise involving self-discipline Molly worked out he was practicing kickboxing. She withdrew inside, leaving him to his privacy, and scratching at her ass that was probably bruised from yesterday's abrupt fall she poked around the cabin. Well if he felt he had the right to have his hand on her vulva all night then that surely gave her some domestic rights.

The first thing Molly noticed was the cabin might be a shack but inside it was tidy and surprisingly clean. Above the stove hung her washed clothes and backpack drying. What time had Tarzan -- er Blair gone to bed last night after doing her washing? He'd even washed the bra she carried to wear before entering civilization, the three camisoles, six pairs of panties and all five pairs of thick hiking socks were in the open oven drying.

On the table she found her wallet, her traveler's document pouch, make-up, insect repellant, keys and other items. She blushed noting the sanitary pads and condoms were at the end of the neat row. God, couldn't a girl have her privacy? She didn't check for her money or passport, sensing they would be there.

Molly wandered over to the bookcase, extensively stocked and in astonishment realized his reading tastes were not too dissimilar to hers... a mix of contemporary authors and some greats of literature. She blinked and pulled out a novel. As the title had suggested it was in French as were three others beside it and although it was difficult to tell if they had ever been read. Nevertheless she murmured, "Ah oui, Monsieur Andrews. You are educated."

Well educated in what?" Molly thought, picking up a copy of 'The British Medical Journal' from the coffee table. The subscription address was to Dr Blair Andrews. Mind reeling she went to the bathroom and then dressed in one of her shirts that was virtually dry and a damp pair of shorts. If nature boy handled the cold dressed in only boxers well she didn't require warm clothing. Anyway she'd fond from experience it began to warm at this height from around 11 am. She found her watch just along from the condoms and boggled -- it was 10:30. She must have slept for more than twelve hours. Holy Christmas! 

"Ah it lives," he said, standing at the door, nose up and sniffing the coffee. "This is real coffee, not the crap most Yanks swill."

She raced up and pulled down his head that only the previous evening she'd contemplated screwing off his shoulders, and kissed him, long and sweetly.

"It's amazing what a good sleep will do to the spirit," he said. "At times late yesterday you weren't too pleased with me."

"Oh wasn't I?" Molly shrugged, still with her arms around him. "If you hadn't come along when I needed you I might have died during the night."

"I don't think so. You are quite a tough bitch. You would have slept to re-energize. You were carrying basic rations including fruit juice and chocolate. Which way would you have walked if no vehicles had come along -- left or right?"

"Neither. I would have continued downhill to the coast as a major highway follows the coastline, more or less. My map showed that but is not detailed enough to show your access road."

"It's a disused logging track so would appear only in topographical maps or quality tramping maps. Your map is crap."

"Thank you."

"No offence intended."

"None taken."

Remaining close-up because of her grip, they eyed one another until he said, "Let's go down to the coast and catch fish for late lunch. Dinner will be steak."


Holly Jones is Rescued



"But a fishing expedition will take hours."

"Oh yeah? I'll have a kiss and you can let me go."

Holly jerked away from him but was caught in a crushing embrace and the hot kiss left her sucking down air.

"A girl likes a strong man," she panted.

"Good, your are exhibiting promising signs and you attitude is primed. It's a month since I last had a good fuck so will be wooing you."

Holly didn't hesitate: "When?"

"Would this evening suit you?"

"I suppose so. I find you attractive."

"Oh god," Blair said, slapping his forehead.

Holly frowned and asked, "What's wrong now?"

"Your reply I suppose. I bet you are some kind of tutor and teach mathematics or Middle English."

Holly couldn't believe he'd just said that. Damn him, he was pretty near correct.

She thought of Jane and uttering a guttural growl grabbed Blair's cock against his boxers and slammed against him, snarling, "I can't wait to get this into me you wise and noble knight of extraordinary physique."

Blair grinned and said well done but pushed her away and said they were going fishing. Holly was happy, having learned he had quite a lot stacked under those boxers.

Blair made Holly wear one of his jackets and gave her a woolen hat that she was reluctant to wear, thinking if he saw her dressed up like that he'd find her too revolting to fuck.

"You're not coming with me unless you wear this gear. A chilling wind can come in off the sea."

Dressed, they walked to the back of the cabin to a lean-to where a kind of red motorcycle with four wheels was garaged.

"This is a quad farm bike, an ATV."

"A what?"

"An all terrain vehicle. You sit behind me, arms around my waist."

"Who will hold the fishing thingies?"

Blair grinned and placed the rods along the bike chassis, clear of the front wheel and the thinner ends stuck out beyond the back mudguards.

They left the former logging track, going through a gate that she had to close and followed a fence-line all the way down to the coastal road that they cross and just over it went down a short slope and were on a pebble beach. Blair attached the reels he'd take from a saddlebag on the side of the rear carrier, threaded the lines and attached the sinkers and hooks.

"Oh the bait, I forget the bait."

Holly looked at the outdoor idiot, wondering if he was joking.

"Ah, I forgot, the tide is out and that's the reason we're here." They walked out on the reef. Blair took wrenched some mussels on rocks in deep pools and baited the hooks. He cast out Holly's line and she said doubtfully, "That's not very far out."

"The snapper come in close for the mussels on the reef."

"Oh."

After ten minutes Holly said it was boring; they'd had no bites.

"Anytime soon. The tide has turned."

She looked skeptical so Blair said, "If you were a fish you'd be conscious of changes to your watery environment, wouldn't you?"

"I suppose so."

"Well fish are conscious of the tidal flow going out, the ebb in between, and the incoming tidal flow, even in deep water."

"Ohmigod, that makes such great sense."

"Indeed."

"What is your occupation Blair?"

"I'm in medicine."

"In what area?"

He sighed. "As a doctor of medicine I'm part of a surgical team in private practice." His appearance suggested he wanted the probe to stop right there.

"Oh really. In what area does your team specialize?"

Blair sighed, not looking at her. "Breast augmentation surgery."

He kept looking down at the water and there was silence until he heard her say, "Ohmigod."

"I'm sorry I'm such a disappointment to you."

Holly said lightly, "But you're not, definitely not. Some women who go to you are in desperate need for the services of your team. I know it's not all about vanity and fashion change."

"You do?"

"Yes my Knight with the scalpel. Come here and let me... eeek."

Holly's reel screamed.

"Pull the rod tip up with a bit of a jerk. That's it, now wind in the fish slowly and if it resists strongly, let it run."

Five minutes later as Holly winched the big fish came against the rock on which he was standing, Blair wrapped the line around his hand twice and pulled the 12-pounder from the water and picking up his knife bled it.

"It's a beauty," Holly said in admiration.

"Yeah, rather like you."

She blushed and said, "Oh we'll catch dozens more."

"We'll catch two more and that's all we need for two days. There is such a thing as conservation as well as accepting that fresh fish is best."

"Oh indeed, there is so much you can teach me."

Blair asked did Holly possess a PhD and she said yes and said she taught an introduction to English Literature and first year writing courses at her university in Chicago.

"Very interesting," was Blair's only comment. She thought why was that interesting so asked why was that interesting?

"Well um, I've taken a three-month sabbatical to write my first novel."

"First novel but you have published professionally?"

"Yes of course."

She smiled and said, "Very interesting."

He looked at her and remained grinning at her when his reel screamed and the pulled his rod up to set the hook in the snapper's mouth.

* * *

Blair placed the fish on the stainless steel kitchen bench and said, "I'll fix you a shower."

"Will you shower with me?"

He rubbed his chin, looking at her impassively. "Nah, it's best I attend to the fish."

She spat, "You unromantic man."

He grinned and said, "Show me your tits" and she slowly unbutton and showed him, noting his tongue move over his lips. He kissed her, keeping his fishy hands to himself and almost choked saying, "I'll fetch the water."

"That reaction is much better," she called.

As Blair was closing the door after filling the header tank with the second bucket of water at the perfect temperature, leaving Holly standing by the 'can' nude, hands on hips and chest thrust out provocatively, he smiled and said, "Please forgive me for being somewhat tentative."

"That's okay," Holly cooed, "You'll have your reason."

"T-there hasn't been a woman since my wife Rebecca d-died in a car accident almost twenty weeks ago."

The door closed and Holly leaned forward, hands clutched over her stomach and feeling dreadful. But that quickly passed and as she entered the shower she decided to throttle back.

Holly was drying her hair when Blair knocked and entered. "I don't know how you feel about this but these are some of Rebecca's casual clothes I'd put aside to burn. Unfortunately they are mid-summer weight."

"That's okay, it's warm in the cabin and although I'm prone to cry I really am a toughie."

"Tough enough to wear my ex-wife's clothes. She was about your size."

"Yes, I'd like to feel feminine again. Those shorts compared with my hiking shorts are akin to the difference between panties and bloomers."

He laughed easily and she laughed with him.

"I'm glad you told me Blair and I still want to have sex with you. I'll be gentle."

"I struggled with the need to tell you but thought if our relationship is to deepen I must tell you."

"Thank you for being so considerate. I'd love to have a relationship with you but now go back to your fish. I'll come out and make the salad."

"I'd really appreciate that. I purchased lettuce and tomatoes yesterday" he said, closing the door. 

Holly was happy at the thought Blair was expecting to enter a relationship with her.

"A relationship and not just fucking," she crooned aloud. "Oh, how lovely. Actually it's already started, hasn't it?" She nodded in agreement and thought she must call her department head and delay her return... perhaps Kline would agree she should resign. Dressing quickly to race to her phone Holly then swore, remembering they were out of cell phone coverage. She'd have to write. Huh? Where was the mailman? Now she didn't know what to think.

The fish was delicious and she told Blair that.

"It's your fish, the biggest of the three."

Holly now thought it tasted even better. She also thought it was now or never."

"I'd like to stay."

Blair stabbed at the fries he called chips. "I only have eleven days left before I return home."

"So I'm not invited to accompany you home?"

"Of course you are... but would you want to do that? My mother and mother will hate you, the neighbors and my work colleagues and families will stare, some talking behind their hands."

"So what? I told you I was tough even though I cry."

Blair turned even more serious. "Look you are young..."

"I'm not, I'm thirty-two."

That produced a grin. "Well I'm sticking to what I'm intending to say. A young woman like you should not be wasting time with a thirty-seven year old widower."

"And why not!" Holly all but shouted.

"Well because... um because... well how would I know?"

"Thank you for that admission Blair."

"Oh come on Holly, don't get shirty with me."

"Shirty?"

He grinned and said it was the polite way of saying 'shitty'

She grinned and they conversed for well over an hour, discussing the possibility of a relationship.

Near the end of that intense exchange Blair said, "And what happens if we have plunged into a meaningful relationship and your visitor's permit expires?"

"Nothing, I don't have one."

"Christ, you are an illegal immigrant?"

"No, I come here for a month each year to visit my grandmother in Christchurch. My mother is a New Zealander and she came home pregnant wanting me to be born a New Zealander to give me dual citizenship. My grandmother lives in Fendalton."

"What? I live in the next suburb, Merivale."

"Oh that's a lovely area."

Blair stood and said if Holly was eager to call her head of department they could climb a near peak and might receive cell phone reception.

"What time will it be in the Midwest?"

"Let me look," said Blair, stepping across to his laptop and looking up World Clock. "But the time we get up to the peak it will be about 9:00 at night yesterday where you live."

"That's fine, let's go," she said excitedly.

Up on the peak on the mountain range the phone reception was quite good but the outcome was not what Holly had expected. Her professor said she was not prepared to give Holly and open-ended leave of absence and after further discussion Holly said she would resign. 

The professor said she could send it now by text but she must include her code number. Holly did that and waited for confirmation. 

"Well resigning leaves you it a bit of a mess. What about your apartment?"

"I'll call my roommate and explain everything. She'll pack my stuff with the help of our friends and send it home to mom. Then I'll have to call mom... oh god, and call heaps more people."

Blair grinned and said that was still a lot easier than returning to America. Holly agreed.

"I'd like to wait for resignation acceptance confirmation. Could we smooch?"

"Smooch?"

She laughed and fell against Blair and said, "It goes like this."

They kissed and petted. When the message alert sounded Holly read out the confirmation and said, Penelope wants me to call her when I have good phone reception. She has contacts at Canterbury University that could be helpful."

"You'll take a job?"

"Yes, if you lose interest there will be other lusty males to fill the gap."

Blair laughed and said he could imagine that. "Come on, let's start down. Any more of this talk and I'll have to walk down with a boner and that would be awkward."

"A boner? What's that?" Holly said slyly. 

* * *

They almost burst into the cabin. Blair grabbed her, she squealed and her picked her up and carried her to the bed, her ass resting against his boner.

"I feel a boner against my ass," she yelled, and added, undoing her shirt, "I think it's now even harder.

She landed on the bed with a big bounce and wanted him into action immediately, assuming the first time would take him over that imaginary hurdle.

"Plow me, don't bother with foreplay, not this time."

"What's foreplay?" he asked, finishing stripping and then hauled off her shorts and panties.

"I can't remember. Shove it in."

She groaned. He was rather big and it had rammed in. But she lubed naturally and they were away. She clamped her teeth into his shoulder and dug her fingers into his back and that sent him into a fucking frenzy. She came first, puffing and blowing and she caught him by the ass cheeks and accelerated his down stroked.

"A condom, I'll need to grab one of your condoms," he groaned.

"Don't you dare stop and pull out," she screamed. "I'm ready to come again. That pushed him over the top and when he grunted to a stop he weighed down on her like a beached whale.

"You fuck real good," he panted.

Holly smiled at him and rolled sweat of his forehead with her hand. This was no time for a lesson in grammar. Instead she sweetened her smile even further and replied thank you.

She gave Blair a couple of minutes to enjoy his triumph and pushed him off. Returning from the 'can' she asked, "May I start reading your manuscript?

"Yeah, you'll find it in Word under Rebecca."

"So it's based on her?"

He sighed and said, "Lady, ain't you something? I'll change the name before sending it off. This heroine is larger than life, not quite the Rebecca I lived with."

"So."

"Her parents wouldn't like reading about her pumped up sexuality."

"That would be reason for changing the name. On the other hand you could get your mother's approval."

"There's no way I'd ask that woman..."

"Blair, don't ask her. Just give her the manuscript to read. She'll tell you what she thinks."

"Then there are the other relations."

"Ignore them Blair. Rebecca's mother is the only one who counts and her husband is likely to concur with her opinion."

"Why are you doing this to me?"

"It's a bad move to change the name of the heroine once you are well into the novel Blair. You whole focus has been on her, developing her and you are probably in love with her -- in your case that certainly will be so. The change to a stranger this far into the journey could be disastrous, pushing the story into a downslide, quite the opposite of how it should be for a novel. It may only be the result of your loss of feeling with your heroine but that could be more than enough to earn rejection slips.

Holly was almost drunk when she'd finished just before 10:00. Blair had quietly poured wine for her and there was a break for dinner and after he'd cleared away he kept topping up her glass. She finished.

"God, I'm drunk."

"I've been so nervous I've been drinking two to your one."

"Well relax. How many chapters to go?"

"I think seven."

"Well that's one more point. It's now time to up the pace."

"Okay, now many other points?"

"Four."

"Is that good or bad."

"For a first novel that's really excellent."

Holly dealt with three of those issues concerning the long lengths of back story, the characterization of the hero was too light even though it clearly wasn't Blair and the minor characters were generally too insipid."

"You think I've suppressed them to make Rebecca really stand out."

"Something like that," Rebecca said, being intentionally vague.

Blair looked at her thoughtfully and then thanked her for delivering that as a hint, rather than a criticism.

Holly smiled and said if that was lacking criticism her final comment was loaded with it.

"As your novel stands it will be rejected, no matter how many publishers you try, and rejected even after the writer had remedied successfully the other three issues I've identified. There is a lack of passion in your novel Blair, a fatal lack of passion."

"Oh god."

"No, it just means an extensive rewrite to inject more liveliness into the thoughts and actions of you two principal characters. It's possible you have bent too far over backwards to make sure Daniel is not like you that you have smothered personality. And why does Rebecca never have an accident that cuts or bruises her, why does she never lose her temper or swear or slam a door. She is portrayed as being excessively saintly, devoid of normal hopes and fears and Blair, believe me, this is understandable, you writing alone with vivid memories and mourning."

Holly had feared a violent denial, but no. Blair hung his head and said quietly, I was beginning to suspect that when reviewing recent chapters."

"Well Blair. You have three options as I see it You can continue and submit; you can leave you novel and return to it when clear of mourning and then edit it yourself or you can sit with me and we'll discuss a chapter and then you work on your rewrite."

"The unstated option is for you to fully edit and rewrite my novel for me."

"Yes Blair and that would completely eliminate your purpose of writing, wouldn't it? It then wouldn't truly be YOUR novel?"

He sighed and said he'd agree with that. "May we take the joint discussion and I then rewrite option?"

"Yes I'd love to assist. It's partly what I do. Look, could we go on a day hike tomorrow? I'd like you to talk and talk about Rebecca so I get to feel I know her. I'll ask you questions and then perhaps so of that will rub off into your novel, giving it more of Rebecca's spirit."

"Yes, I'd like to do that. I'll check the weather forecast at 6:00 am."

"Check it by all means but we'll be going Blair unless there is a storm warning for this area.

* * *

Holly felt Blair stirring beside her in the morning. She began stroking his cheek.

"Hi," he said smiling. "What a pretty sight to wake up to."

"Then I'm not Rebecca?"

"No. She's gone and after our long talk last night I feel my mind knows she'd gone. I'm off for a pee and then would you like sex?"

"Oh, you feel you have to ask do you?"

He left quickly, grinning. He returned, holding a boner for her.

"How did you get that up so quickly after peeing?"

"I was thinking of your cunt while I peed."

She giggled and they settled into a sixty-nine. She liked and sucked as his cock and balls slowly and lovingly, wondering if she should ask him to shave when they returned to civilization. She decided no, she wouldn't do that but she'd resume shaving.

He jerked and she swallowed most of his semen and wondering whether he'd like the thought of that she jerked and groaned and soaked his face.

"It's nice to be in a pussy with hair around it," he grinned, her fluids dripping off his face. Well she guessed that took care of her shaving indecision. Maybe they should talk about it. He was asking for her favorite position.

"Doggy -- but you must kiss me at times and squeeze my breasts. And then shoot over my back so I can feel it.

He grinned. "Coming up ma'am."

Holly's eyes closed and her mouth opened into a big 'O' as he slipped into her slippery cunt. He thudded against her to let her known his penetration was at maximum. Her ass was humped up and she lay on her shoulders, her head turned to the left to avoid getting her nose squashed. She lifted from time to time to be kissed and would then lower back down as that position freed her hands to pull at a tit or massage around her clit or with a longer reach to grab his swinging balls. She came twice and then he grunted, withdrew and hosed her spine. Lovely.

Breakfast was baked beans on toast and he added three sausages to his plate. They cleared away and were off on an eight-hour tramp. She learned a great deal about Rebecca and at times cried, not that he saw that, at least she thought she was successful keeping moist tears hidden behind sunglasses and she brushed away running tears as if dealing with the blood-hungry sand flies. He truly did love Rebecca; Holly could hear it in his voice.

Next day they went to town. Holly sat rigidly as they drove along the cutting on the side of the gorge. Blair glanced at her a couple of times but said nothing about her display of fear. She was grateful about that. They went early so her calls to America were made in mid to late afternoon their time. There were no problems and her father said they would go to Chicago to pick up her packed possessions, that he'd borrow a pickup. He mom was delighted she would be staying on in Christchurch and possibly working at the university.




Holly Jones is Rescued



"What's he like?"

"No flies on you mom. He's a widower, aged thirty-six, blond with broad shoulders. Very athletic, a great smile and still a little lost still because his wife died only five months ago. But he's honest, intelligent and can be very tender and loves the great outdoors. I'm calling from Ross, which Blair said is twenty minutes' drive southeast of Hokitika. He has a cabin up in the foothills to the Southern Alps."

"Yes I know Ross. You are in rainy territory."

"Don't I know it!"

"What does Blair do?"

"He's a doctor."

"Oh, that's nice. In a hospital or private practice?"

"Private."

"What kind of practice?"

"Ah mom I better go, someone wants the phone. Give my love to everyone. We'll be in Christchurch last next week so we'll talk again then. Bye."

* * *

The next Friday morning they were packed up and were ready to leave for Christchurch.

"You drive."

"Okay, down to the cutting."

Holly found the Holden ute easy to drive, with plenty of power. She stopped at the entrance to the gorge.

Blair said quietly, "I want you to drive on and take Ida through the cutting. Drive as slowly as you wish. It's time to face your fear and conquer it."

"Okay, are you ready to die?"

"I sometimes think of that when we are dealing with invasive cancer in a breast."

"Oh god, this is nothing," Holly said and went through the cutting only a little slower than he driven her through it.

"Nothing to it!" she said excitedly at the exit and speeded up and demonstrated her proficiency at driving a vehicle moderately fast on an unsealed track. They reached the sealed highway and she only handed over the wheel when they stopped at Hokitika for coffee before turning inland to go through the Southern Alps via Arthur's pass to Christchurch, under three and a half hours away.

CHAPTER 3

On the fairly straight drive across the Canterbury Plains to Christchurch, now in view, Blair asked, "How long do you think it will take before I can send my book off?"

"Well we ended up making fantastic progress and you have only two chapters left to write. I suggest I pick up my laptop from grandma's and we connect our computers and while you are at work I can begin to proof read and lightly edit, these changes being made to the only copy of the manuscript, apart from backup copies. That way we will not have copies all over the place."

"That's fine by me."

"Well in that case I'd think if you can work three hours a night for four or five nights a week you could be sending off your manuscript in about three weeks. What will be our title?"

"Rebecca."

"Sorry, no top-line publisher will accept that. Daphne Du Maurier beat you to that title. You need more words with that name."

"Perhaps I should drop that name?"

"It's your decision."

Blair said, "What name would you chose? Come on, no ducking and diving."

"Well I haven't said this Blair but the book has definite commercial possibilities -- by that I mean potential big sales given the right promotion aimed at the right market. Now don't be offended but that market is sentimental women readers."

"That doesn't offend me. It suggests they are readers who care."

"Exactly. Good boy. It will depend how you finish -- I've only read your outlines for those two final chapters. But if you can maintain lifting the pace to a big finish I'd think of a title like 'Oh So Close to Perfection' or 'An Angel with Blemishes or Just So Incredible'."

"I like that last one, but what about 'Just so Beautiful'?"

"Yes, even better -- it can mean both looks and spirit and your heroine has both. In that penultimate chapter you need something dramatic to occur -- I suggest a near-death experience like being thrown off their motor yacht in the dark or being in her town car and being rammed by a drunken truck driver with her small vehicle being crushed under the front wheels of the truck...there is silence and then people gathering around hear her cry, "Can someone please help me" The final chapter is all about resolution, tying everything together and revealing their future pathway together. If you can establish strong commitment you could drop the wedding. In my experience male writers seem to mock the wedding ceremony or want to turn it into a comedy or a disaster."

"You mean they don't feel the sense of occasional, perhaps even the sanctity of the occasion?"

"Well if they do they invariably don't wish to admit it to their readers."

"Well you could have them commit to buying an apartment or a house together."

"I'd thought of that."

Holly spoke very gently. "Was Rebecca pregnant when she died?" She watched his grip on the wheel tighten, skin over finger joints turning whiter."

"Yes, eight weeks."

"That's so sad, a double tragedy. And you don't want to make your heroine pregnant. It's a great ending for the type of readership this books aiming at."

Blair squirmed in his seat and didn't reply.

"But you're thought about it?"

"Christ Holly, how do you know these things?"

"You are not a difficult person to read Blair and there's a bit of intuition thrown in. This is something to think about Blair, it could help to make the perfect ending. You have been through that experience so will know how to express the way they think and feel. Just think about it. Also think about re-titling to 'Just so Adorable'."

"That's it, that's so perfect!" he breathed.

Holly asked him to pull over to allow her to take the wheel.

He stopped the vehicle and kissed her and asked why?

"Because I have a little job for you. I want you to call your mother and your mother to say you will be home within the hour accompanied by a woman who will be staying with you."

"But why -- they will find out when they call?"

"Yes, for sure. But imagine the shock. By doing it this way they will be forewarned and on their best behavior at least initially and that gives me the chance to deliver a good impression because they will be holding back to allow me to do that."

"Are you sure?"

"Very sure."

"God, it's so ritualistic."

"Well now you know something new about women Mr Writer."

As Holly turned into the driveway of Blair's lovely looking cream brick and red tiled home with spring flowers everywhere and two ornamental cherry trees nearing the end of blossoming, Blair said, "Uh, uh" and Holly noticed a car parked in front of one of the sets of garage doors, leaving her heading towards the door nearest the house. An attractive gray-haired woman come out and stared at them before waving.

"That's mom. She's headed around quickly to find out why I've been sleeping with another woman so soon after you know what."

"Do you mind she might be thinking that?"

"No, she's a mature woman. We all know they become conservative and defensive."

"No, I didn't know that but on reflection you probably are correct."

"Women think men are not brainy."

"Well if you hang out with brainy women you're likely to find out why."

A woman appeared at Holly's window. She powered the window down and said cheerfully, "Hi Mrs Andrews."

"My god, an American. Whatever next?"

"I'm a very appealing America Mrs Andrews, quite suitable to associate with Blair I'm sure."

Holly could hear Blair beside her, mostly hidden from his mom, chocking back laughter.

"Never has Blair allowed himself to be driven by anyone except when dangerously drunk."

"He's sober Mrs Andrews. I kissed him a little ways back and can vouch I smelt no liquor."

"A little ways back? Oh dear, what kind of English is that?"

"It was just a playful jibe Mrs Andrews in case you found nothing else unacceptable about me. You than have that to fall back on."

Blair growled, "Steady."

Holly opened her door and stepped out. She was wearing a tramping shirt and shorts and sneakers and towered above Mrs Andrews who looked up and said, "You're as tall at Blair."

"Yes, and I hope I'm just as lovely as he is."

"You think he's lovely?"

"Oooh yes. He probably saved my life. I came down from the tops, soaked, tired and hungry and crashed on to the road in driving rain and fell asleep. It was near sleet, and I was exhausted. I might not have made it through the night and then your heroic son came along. We were six miles from the turnoff to the cabin and... "

"Six miles" You were in the middle of nowhere. Where was your companion?"

"Well your son asked me that same question. 'Where's your mate? Or are you a stupid Yank walking the tops out here alone?'

Mrs Andrews sniffed. "Well he had every right to admonish you but not to call you stupid."

"I'd be the first to agree with that Mrs Andrews," Holly said, turning to poke out her tongue at Blair who was lifting her pack and his two bags from under the cover of the cargo box.

"Hello Blair."

"Hi Mom."

"You are very tall and very beautiful," Mrs Andrews said, focusing on Holly again.

"So they say. You hair looks lovely. You've just had it done."

"Thank you. Yes this morning."

"I'm not sure I've seen that color before. It looks lovely."

"Yes, I'm pleased with it. It's called copper bronze."

"Ah yes, I've seen that color advertised in high fashion magazines."

"Really," Mrs Andrews said touching her hair. "Come inside dear and I'll make us a nice pot of tea. Or would you prefer coffee""

"Er, I can drink tea."

"But you much prefer coffee."

"Well yes, and thank you for pressing the question."

Mrs Andrews smiled and said Holly was a very polite girl. It was the opportunity Holly wanted, to insert it naturally. 

"I have to thank my mother for that. Oh, she was born not far from here."

"Oh my goodness, where?"

"Merivale. My grandparents still live in the same house."

"Well fancy that. What are their names, I might know of them?"

"Thomas and Irene Boswell."

"Ohmigod, know them. In fact I know Irene very well. She is our church treasurer. And yes she said she has a son who lives in Southampton in England and a daughter who lives in Springfield, Illinois."

"You do know her well and have a sharp memory. Yes, mom and dad live in Springfield which is dad's hometown."

Blair came in and said Kate would be arriving soon but they'd not wait to have afternoon tea because Kate was never on time.

"Is Kate Rebecca's mom?"

Blair and his mom said yes together.

"Blair and I have spoken extensively about Rebecca. I feel I know her and need to see a photo of her to put my mind at rest."

"Fetch the photo taken late last year Blair."

"I should clear the remaining signs of Rebecca; it's not fair on you," Blair said, handing Holly the photo.

"You are not to do that on my account Blair. This was also Rebecca's house and after what you have told me in recent days I am honored to share her house."

Blair simply shrugged but Mrs Andrews looked at Holly as if Holly had just said something amazing.

"You have exceeded my expectation ten-fold young woman."

"What a lovely thing to say Mrs Andrews. Thank you."

"My dear, just a wee something I should say in case Blair hasn't told you, to avoid you putting your foot in it. Kate was terrible upset over the death of her daughter. They were returning from an art show in Timaru and were almost home when they were in collusion with another vehicle and we shunted into a street pole. Rebecca was killed instantly and her mother only received bruising and a facial cut. Kate was driving but was not responsible for the accident. The other driver went through a red light. But understandably Kate has blamed herself for her daughter's death.

"Oh how horrible for her."

The front door bell went and Mrs Andrews was away sometime before leading Kate Rogers into the room. Kate obviously had been briefed. She kissed Blair and turning said, "Hello, call me Kate. I understand you are Irene Boswell's granddaughter?"

"Yes, I am pleased to meet you Kate. May I apologize in advance if you feel my presence here is an intrusion? Sometimes these things happen and that's all I can say."

The woman appeared to be about fifty and was dressed in a pinstriped business trouser suit with her brown hair pulled back in a French roll eyed Molly quizzically.

"Yes I am upset there is a new woman in Blair's live so soon after his bereavement but his actions are none of my business."

"But you have feelings and I respect that."

"Well you could walk away?"

"And be replaced by someone else? Yes I could but that's not my style. I may not have survived the night on the day Blair found me and rescued me. Something is happening between us and that's all I wish to say, except, "What would Rebecca have done if her and my situations were reversed?"

"She would have stood like you are, attempting to stare me down, head held high like yours, wordlessly telling me to butt out."

"I mean no disrespect."

"You have shown none and I am impressed. Angela said I would find you awesome."

"Kate, Holly has quizzed me for hours about Rebecca until she now knows her perhaps even better that Rebecca's friends did. Holly has then converted that into editing my book after encouraging me to re-write it extensively and now there are only two chapters to go. Because of Holly, I feel the book now lives and is flying. I had unconsciously placed my heroine who is based on Rebecca on a pedestal, although when Holly came along I was beginning to suspect she was just too perfect to be authentic."

"Are you a writer Holly?"

"I've had two books of short stories published plus my thesis and a cluster of professional papers."

"Professional papers?"

"Kate, Holly has a PhD and teaches an introduction to English Literature and takes First Year Writing Courses at her University in Chicago from where she has just resigned."

"So you want me to give her a job."

Blair said no. "In fact I have not told her you have a senior position in the English Department here at our university."

"Why not?"

'Yes, why not?" asked his mother.

"I really don't know."

Holly broke the silence. "Ladies, you know males have a tendency not to tell women things that would really interest them."

Kate smiled, Mrs Andrews laughed and then they all were laughing.

When Kate and Mrs Andrews left together, Blair and Holly standing in the driveway almost touching and waving, Holly said, "Thank you for not putting your arm around me."

"I though it would be insensitive and knew you would think that."

"Good boy."

After the final wave he looked at his watch. "Come on, they are just starting drinks at the clinic. I want to introduce you to everyone."

"I have nothing to wear. My things are at grandma's."

"Our rooms are upstairs in the mall. I'll buy you a dress; it's time I brought you a dress."

"A little black dress I suppose?"

He looked surprised and asked how did she know.

"I try to imagine how men think. It helps me in tutoring males."

At the mall they took Holly's shirt and shorts and sneakers to the ute. She was wearing a short blue lace dress with a high neck and new blue shoes.

"You have gorgeous legs."

Two women in the lift (elevator) with them smiled and looked down at Holly's legs.

"That's a new one. You are always commenting about my tits."

The women looked at one another, momentarily shocked, and then began tittering.

Blair unlocked the door into the clinic and led Holly to the staff room at the back.

"Blair!" someone called, spotting him, and other called out including a guy Blair's age who called, "Welcome back buddy."

There was silence as Blair drew Holly beside him. "Everyone, this is my pal Holly Jones from America who teaches English literature at a university. I found Holly after she fell off a mountain and she's stuck with me and been very loving and a great buddy."

"Hi Holly," several people called. A chubby woman still in a nurse's uniform eyed Holly's bust and said, "Great augmentation."

People laughed sensitively, holding back.

Blair picking up a beer and handing Holly a glass of wine said, "One hundred percent natural, the best I've ever handled."

Holly was greeted with shouts of "Yes please" when she asked would they like to see them, and they loved her when she snarled, "Go to hell."

The guy with black short-cut hair Holly had noticed when entering later came up to her and introducing himself as Paul Miles said, "Has Blair told you about Rebecca?"

"Yes."

"The three of us were great pals all through high school. Blair and I went to Dunedin to do medicine and Rebecca introduced me to Alice, now my wife, whom she met when she began doing a junior lectureship. She's American, from Wisconsin. I was best man at Blair and Rebecca's wedding and Alice was chief bridesmaid."

"Well you both must have happy memories of her. I have no intention of attempting to erase her Paul, so please remember than and perhaps you could tell Alice that. I guess I will be seeing you two socially?"

"You will indeed. As early as tomorrow night -- a few minutes ago I invited Blair to dinner and he accepted, being invited to bring you along of course. The first thing Alice will ask..."

"Springfield, Illinois. I have been in the English department at a university in Chicago for three years."

"How old...?"

"Thirty-three."

"How did you...?"

"It was logically your next question. You look too intelligent to ask, "How do I like New Zealand?"

Paul colored. "That was to be my next question."

They laughed and he said admiringly, "Not only are you beautiful and tall, but you are also cool. The timing of your entry into Blair's life is perfect. The lucky bastard. My initial impression is you are even more impressive than Rebecca."

"Paul, thank you for that flattering comment but please forget you ever made it. I have no wish to dislodge Rebecca from the place she has in the minds of you all. I have been assisting Blair with his book, editing and making suggestion, and talked to him for hours about Rebecca. It's possible I now know her as well as many of her friends did but not those closest to her of course. I have immense respect for her."

"Jesus."

"Blair is comfortable about having me around and I believe because of the way we came together he doesn't even regard my position on Rebecca as being radical or anything unusual. Tell me, is Alice sexy?"

Paul grinned and said, "Oh yeah?"

Holly laughed and said she only asked that to change the subject because she felt they were becoming too engrossed in the past. 

CHAPTER 4

Nine days into the final editing of Blair's novel, with the final chapters completed, Holly took a call from Rebecca's mother Kate.

"You will be aware I have kept away to allow you to settle in."

"Thank you Kate, that was very thoughtful. Blair has told me he sees you occasionally and had lunch with you on Friday."

"Yes, well I do like that boy and his mother and I remain firm friends. Will you lunch with me today? I know it's very short notice but something's come up."

"Yes of course. Where will I meet you?"

"At the university."

The cab took Holly to the place at the university where Kate said to meet. Kate was already there and kissed Holly and said, "Rebecca gained her masters in art history here and it was also my university. At the time of her death Rebecca was head of research at the School of Fine Arts."

"In the book she is assistant head of geography but I only discovered she actually attended university here when Paul Miles told me but even he didn't say she worked here."

"Mere detail love; gradually the gaps will fill. I'm more comfortable at talking about Rebecca now... would you care to come and stay with me this weekend?"

"Yes, I'd like that."

"Well come, we must eat."

As they took their trays and walked to a table where three people sat, all on one side, Kate stopped and said, "Dear I must warn you..."




Holly Jones is Rescued



Holly said, "This is a setup. It's an informal interview isn't it?"

"Call it what you like but if you impress would will be offered the position before you leave the table. We have read you CV I downloaded from your university's website. Are you aware we have an American Studies department within our English Department?"

"No -- goodness, that must be unusual."

"It is. We have more than 3000 students in our school. A male senior tutor has resigned and rushed home to Ireland to attend a family crisis; his father has fallen and received spinal injuries and so Aidan has accepted the call to run the family business. I make no apology for dropping you into this. The request was I'd not tell you until you were in this room as the panel will be interested in your reaction."

"I'm fine although I can't say whether the offer will appeal."

"Of course not. Come and meet the panel."

Professor Green said, "Holly, the papers you have published are impressive and display your strong interest in the development of English writing from the mid-Twentieth Century and emerging trends including the pulp markets. There is a notable absence of any interest in poetry."

"My academic interests are my specialist interest. Poetry is not unknown to me."

"But Holly has written about poetry," Kate insisted. "Gavin, turn to page 5 of her CV. Papers 29 to 35 are about song lyrics, 1940 to 1970. If song lyrics are not poetry then I'm out of touch. Her paper 'Sentimentality and Home Images of Song Lyrics 1940-1945' won 4th position in the open category for Creative Thinking two years ago with more than 200 papers selected for final assessment."

"Well Kate," who am I to argue against such tenuous connection pushed so passionately?"

Everyone laughed and Gavin said the position entailed taking second and third year classes on Modern English Literature and Creative Writing for third-year classes and providing back-up for the American Studies department. "All in all, you appear ready to step up to this senior position, our urgent need being in your favor."

The head of language study Michelle Smither said the ability to teach in a second language would have been desirable. "But although you list Spanish and French fluencies you exhibit no teaching experience in either French of Spanish."

"French no, but I and widely read in French, especially the classics. You will see my summer school teaching last year -- the organized and headed the course in Spanish Literature."

Kate handed Holly her copy of the CV and Holly said, "It says here" and stopped and smiled. "Oh it refers the reader to the university's Spanish website. Never mind, I shall describe the course." She spoke rapidly in Spanish for almost two minutes. Michelle then asked Holly questions in Spanish and nodded at the delivery of each answer. She then said, "I am impressed. With Holly on our staff we have back-up cover for Spanish Literature tutoring at all levels."

Gavin smiled and handed Holly a document. "It's your contract Holly. We are most impressed. If you wish to join us sign it and hand it to Kate. But first you might wish to finish your meal. We will leave you and Kate in peace."

"Thank you Kate for being so supportive."

"It's nothing. In a little way I'm substituting you for Rebecca and will follow your career accordingly. I'll not be possessive. Look, can you start here tomorrow? Our need is urgent because exams are coming up. Then from early November through the late December will be required to take your predecessor's place at Summer School, lecturing on an Introduction to the Study of Linguistics. Then you will have six weeks free until the new university year."

"Yes, that's fine."

* * * 

Blair was delighted that Holly had secured a job and danced her around the family room. They stopped to kiss and as their breathing rate increased Holly leaned against the dining table as whispered, "Do it Blair."

He sank to his knees, pulling down her panties as he went, Holly stepping out of one leg. For the moment it didn't matter about the other leg. As Blair's tongue sank into her she wheezed, "I love you Blair." His response was to sink a wet finger into her butt deeply and pull her on to his tongue. He was being so lovely to her and she was emotionally fired up, so she climaxed.

"Good god girl," Blair said, pulling his head away spluttering. "You gave me no warning; that was so quick."

"Are you complaining?"

"Not at all," he grinned, pushing pussy soaked fingers into her mouth. She sucked greedily, indicating to him she was in one of her hot sexy moods. He pulled out his inflamed cock and she bent and sucked it wet and then turned to sprawl on the table to receive it in her favorite doggy position.

Holly's mouth slipped into her familiar big 'O' as the bloated bulbous head stretched the lips shielding her cunt and she sucked in air pleasurably as she felt it slither over her sensitive zone just inside. She groaned and heaved and he grunted, "Have you come again already?"

"Yes."

"You're sexed up. Watch that I don't make you pregnant."

There was no reply. Blair ground away until his face turned purple and turning her head to look back at him Holly saw his eyeballs were almost popping.

"Oh, didn't we have a great time?" she cooed, relaxing her squeeze to allow him to withdraw. As usually he wiped himself on her panties and handed them to her to use.

"Is there something you wish to tell me? I'm referring to my comment about pregnancy... you didn't reply."

Holly looked away.

"Come on Holly. We agreed, no secrets between us, remember?"

"Yes, and I have not been honest with you. I told you I carry condoms when I travel in case I get into situations with guys. That left the implication I was on the pill or some other contraceptive."

"Yes, that was my thought... oh god, you haven't been protected and only occasionally I have climaxed over your back or on your tits. The other times..."

"You have blasted inside me, leaving your sperm looking for my eggs. Yes darling and I have to say the last few days are perfect timing to be drenched internally with sperm. I was waiting for the right time to tell you but I couldn't determine when would be the right time."

"You should have told me."

"I know. I've handled it badly," Holly said defiantly.

"I'm not mad at you. Answer me this: if you become pregnant will you stay and allow me to help rear our child?"

"Yes of course. In no way am I possessive about this. I love you Blair and want you to be the father of my child. You choosing to share parenthood will be a huge bonus. If it's a girl would you like us to call her Rebecca?"

"That has already crossed my mind. Yes I would like that, very much. It would be the greatest gift you could give me. Holly, I really do love you and you have resurrected me -- your have succeeded where those around me were failing. I had been considering selling my share in the clinic because I felt I was not pulling my weight and beginning to lose confidence. Paul is distraught that I'm thinking of leaving. I must call him now and tell him you have convinced me to stay, that you are healing me. I've been twice blessed by having two wonderful women at my side but you are the amazing one." Holly laughed. "Off you go and call Paul but hurry back. I'll be on the bed ready to help you make a baby."

THE END