14 comments/ 13975 views/ 2 favorites Journey into Melanie's Reality Ch. 01 By: Scotsman69 Author's note: This is a continuation of 'Melanie', the last chapter of which I posted well over a year ago. It stands alone, although if you are new to my work and like it, you may wish to read 'Melanie' as well. This is a work of love and imagination. My deepest thanks to my partner, who has meticulously edited almost everything I've written since we met. ***** Sandy surfaced from sleep, aware he'd been dreaming but remembering nothing of where it had taken him. He was instantly aware of where he was though: in the whispering hum of the A380, on his way to Australia. He opened the shutter and his eyes slitted against sunpower through the port window. Several miles down, through layers of thin swirling cloud, the geographer in him recognised the distinctive bulge of the southwestern corner of the island continent. He was an old and seasoned traveller, and no longer thrilled to the new as he used to. Normally. But this wasn't normal. He was going to meet Melanie, for the first time on her home territory. He unsnapped the lapbelt and murmured apologies to the couple next to him. Slipped out and moved down the aisle, needing to stretch his legs. Emirates provided more legroom in economy than any airline he'd flown with, but he had to move his long limbs, he'd been near twenty hours in the air since home. He appreciated the size of the A380: it had dwarfed the 747 next to it at Dubai. He pace-counted his walking to a half-kilometre up and down both long decks, did some stretching exercises against a bulwark, and freshened up before returning to his seat. He was tumescent when he peed, suffused with the imminent expectation of his lover. He lost himself in Cormac McCarthy, ate a decent meal approaching Adelaide, then couldn't focus on anything but thoughts of his woman as the behemoth moved over landmass again. It was four months since she'd visited Glasgow as guest at a poetry festival, seven since they first met in Paris: a magical few days which had sealed their love. He'd told his publisher that he wanted to go out for the launch of the Australian edition of his novel. She was curious: he'd already turned down trips to New York, Toronto and Berlin, against her advice. Her eyes twinkled when he'd confessed: - I'll need to see what I can do then Sandy. And she'd delivered. The announcement of the descent woke him from a doze, and he watched the shape of Sydney grow as the plane slipped through evening sunshine. Then the bump, planes and terminal buildings flashing by, runway lights slowing, like any other airport arrival in the world. But this wasn't. This was a new continent, and the start of a new chapter in his life. ***** He moved through the procedures of international arrivals in a dwam. Melanie stood smiling as he emerged, her distinctive form in the silk dress which she'd worn when they first met in Paris. His woman. They were trembling as they melted into each other, moaning greetings. Barely noticed others tutting as their embrace blocked the centre of the exit. Eventually their faces parted. She smiled as she drew his hand from her arse, reached in her shoulder-bag, pressed something damp in his palm: - As instructed darling. They got wet on the drive down. Had to stop. I kept them on when I wanked so I'd soak them for you. I didn't expect to squirt though, usually it takes you to do that. I was just... so excited. The pools of her brown eyes fastened on his. His cock stiffened, and he raised the flimsy silk to his nose, not caring what others saw. Christ, her sexfragrance. Breathed deeply, absorbing her. He pocketed the panties: - Jesus darling, what a beautiful welcome gift... He had to drag her into a corner, pressed hard into her supple willingness as his hand stroked her knee. Christ, her skin again, her smell, sweat and the taste of her neck, sexscent rising as his palm slid up her thigh, her panting harsher, her moan and jerk as his fingers stroked the naked silken wetness, curled deep in her beloved cunt. His cunt. Her pupils moved upwards as his digits met her need. She was a quaking sexmess in his arms, and his hand and wrist were dripping. He shivered in joy at her pleasure: dear god, his beautiful Melanie. She gradually re-emerged into the reality of the terminal building, stroked his cock through his loose trousers: - Sorry darling, I want this in my throat. But you'll have to wait a bit. He knew she was nervous about driving in the city and remained quiet as she navigated through lights and roundabouts. Then they were on the motorway heading south, and he felt the tension slide from her. Leaned over and kissed her cheek: - You said it's about four hours to Canberra darling? I'm happy to spell you, you've already driven four hours to get here. The smile he loved creased her features, and she glanced momentarily in his eyes: - What, and entrust my life to a man more jetlagged than he's ever been in his life? Who's been on Australian roads for the first time, for all of twenty minutes? No, thank you darling. I had several hours in Sydney before your flight was due, had things to do, ate a good dinner. But I will need a break sometime. That'll rest me sufficiently. - Mmm, yes, we both need a break sweet. We'd better wait till it's dark though. - God I love you Sandy. Don't want to wait, but we need to clear the city. It'll be dark in half-an-hour, pitch black. Hardly any moon tonight, I checked. I thought of a good place to stop. But, there's coffee in the flask and some nibbles in the box, so would you take care of your driver's other needs meantime? Oh -- as his hand moved to his wescot pocket -- this is my car remember, and it's a no-smoking zone. Not -- she giggled -- like your stinky old heap. - This one will be stinky soon enough love. Hope you brought towels? Don't want to mess your lovely car... - Course I brought towels, dillbrain! Knew what we'd need. I don't want my curious children enquiring about cumstains on car seats. Now, give me some coffee and cake, and tell me about your trip. ***** The only light in the sky as she drew off the busy road came from a rash of twinkling stars. She parked in the lee of a building, shielding the car from the stream of headlights on the motorway: - It's a vehicle testing centre, not used at night love. Now, come here, I'm hungry to feel you properly. Oh god... how I need you. - My sweetness, as I need you. All of you. Their arms wrapped around each other. Mouths met gently, then swirled and twisted in passion. Everything was back, as though the months apart hadn't existed: her ethereal bodyscent, her skin as his fingers slid under the dress, firm breasts tight beneath his fingers, teats rising inexorably to his touch. He grunted, unzipped her carefully, and his mouth fused on her nipples as his hand slid up her inner thigh. Found the wetness it sought, and she opened to him: - Oh Sandy mine, you've no idea how I've missed you, your love and your need... - Mmm my darling -- he pushed her head back and his mouth fastened on her throat -- I belong to you, as I never have to anyone. You know -- his fingers were probing her delicious cunt and she squirmed in her arousal -- that my life's not been my own since we met. I'm yours Melanie, all yours. As this cunt is mine, all of you is mine. This throat that gives you life... He bit her throat lightly, bent to smell her sex, taste her, banging his head on the steering wheel. His mouth found her, completely smooth this time, no tuft of hair above her mons, and he absorbed her unique raciness, sniffed, lapped and suckled. His fingers moved to enter her, he wanted to know her again, assuage her needs, sought to give her pleasure first before he took his with her. She lifted his head, pushed him away gently. He watched mesmerised as she slipped the dress off, cast it on the back seat, all dark shadowed movements, and her cuntscent filled the car. His lover, naked but for thighhighs and driving shoes. He started to remove his shirt, but she growled softly: - That's my job. And she stripped him naked whilst he shifted in the seat to accommodate her movements. Then she leaned forward and pressed something on the dashboard. The seat moved till his legs were straight in the footwell, and his body followed suit as the seatback reclined to horizontal. Jesus. He hadn't had sex in a car since he'd sold his Morris minivan at Uni, and he was almost back in his early twenties as Melanie curved over him sinuously and swallowed his erection. Into her throat. Fucking unbelievable sensations: he'd never before been able to enjoy having his cock sucked, let alone throated. It hadn't been part of his sexual culture, ever. He'd always thought it demeaning to the woman, an act of service to the man, a sexual inequity foreign to his feminist training. Until Melanie had taught him otherwise, explained that she liked it for herself, something to do with the power she exerted over him, as well as her own sensual reward. He didn't completely understand this but knew his own intense pleasure in loving her orally, so he'd eventually learned to relax, allow her to pleasure him. He did so now, watching as her head bobbed into his groin, lips, tongue and throat muscles loving and assured. She'd done this to other men, he knew, as he'd taken pleasure with other women. There wasn't an ounce of jealousy in his body at the knowledge. It was part of who they had been, who they were, as though everything they had experienced before had been rehearsals for the continuing symphony of their love, essential and pleasurable preparations. Her head was moving faster now, her throat and lips tightening on him. Fuck he wanted this, wanted to explode in her loving mouth, felt himself rising to her... but for this reunion, he needed her cunt. His fingers fastened in her fine hair and he dragged her mouth from him, gasped: - Not that way my love, not this time. I'm tired from the journey, don't think I can go twice tonight. Want you properly, need your cunt. Now. He watched her face recompose, and her eyes fell momentarily, then rose to meet his again: - Yes... master. I want that too. So move, I need that seat. He leaned over to the back, his cock bobbing in her face. Her tongue extended to flick him lightly and he quivered as he reached the towels, crouched back and spread them on the passenger seat. Then she was before him, legs spread outside his, cunt open, glimmers of starlight on the moisture between her lips. He crouched and lapped, needing time to allow himself to subside. Relished her joy and her need. Looked in her face, sexanguish etched on it: - I love you Melanie. You know we'll find a way to make this work. I want you for the rest of my life. He heard the sob before he saw the tears trickle down her face: - Oh sweetness, as I do you. But you know how my life is... He bent over her, licked the tears from her eyes, her cheeks, kissed her mouth tenderly: - I'm about to see at first hand darling, I need to know for myself, meet your family. I'm not scared of meeting your children and your Mum, I can't tell you how much I look forward to that. And sweetness, I know George's memory is fresh for everyone. I'll tread softly with all of you. Her eyes glowed with love in reflected starlight, still awash with tears: - I don't know why you chose me. You could have any woman you want, my sweet dill. Why choose me, impossible me? - I didn't choose darling. We fell in love, as neither of us has ever fallen before. We belong to each other. A few weeks together, and hundreds of emails and IMs, may not be much to go on, but we both know. We're soulmates. Nothing's impossible sweet. We'll find a way. We have to, for both of us. And for your children too. Sandy knew that before his death, Melanie hadn't had sex with George in ten years. Sex is often the first victim of multiple sclerosis. Knowing the depth of her sexuality, Sandy was surprised that she hadn't fucked anybody else until she met him in Paris. She'd survived on erotica and masturbation for a decade. He was humbled and honoured that she'd chosen to finally open herself to him. And amazed at her long years of discipline and self-denial, her honouring of her disabled husband. He lay on her beautiful form then as the overnight trucks thundered by yards away. There was no guilt in him about their love: he knew it went at least as deep for her as for himself. He loved her, all of her, not just her body, perfect as it was. He hadn't travelled tens of thousands of miles to fuck, but to bestow his love on this remarkable woman. And meet her family. He licked the tears from her beautiful distinguished face, and her arms tightened on him as they kissed. Softly as always to begin, then in increasing passion as they ignited each others' flames. His cock engorged as he felt her cunt, open and wet on his thigh. She reached down, seeking him, till he shuddered as her fingers wrapped love around him: - Mouth, then cunt, please darling? He grunted assent, crouched backwards awkwardly against the curve of the windscreen as she sat up to follow his movement, bent to his groin, whispered: - This cock belongs to me. Her mouth enclosed him. He had no doubt in her pleasure at this act as he felt her need and her love on his shaft. He surrendered himself to her adoration till she fully restored his rigidity, then pushed her back on the seat: - Need your cunt. Now. He crouched forward, kissing her breasts, his teeth tugging needy nipples, and she felt his cock part her wet labia, enter her smoothly. Oh fuck, this was all she sought; she didn't care about her cycle, just needed her man. She wanted him in her soul, in the depths of her cunt. She sucked him in, feelings so intense that her conscious mind disappeared. Felt him plunder her in their mutual need: she wanted to be taken by him, to be owned by him, to have responsibility taken from her, assumed by him. She trusted this man with her life, rose to meet his lust with her own, love unending, bodies and souls as one, merging, the all-consuming need in her aflame, his thrusting cock the oxygen that made the fire soar higher, consume her, envelop him, bring them together again in the unbearable unity. Oh god oh god oh god... touching the void indeed... till the final explosion destroyed them both, and in the destruction made them one. They hung there for infinity, seared together. He grunted his spunk into her womb and she screamed as the jets spurted from her. They finally collapsed together, quivering, soaking in sweat and her squirt, his eyes laving her face with love. Completion. ***** Eventually she giggled: - I feel like a silly schoolgirl again, fucking in a car. Except no virgin schoolgirl ever shared what we just have. I can't tell you how glad I am that you're here love. Nothing's gone away, has it? We're closer than we've ever been. - Yes sweet, and this is only the prelude. But -- he was aware of her groin moving against him, the hungry look in her eyes -- I think you need more now? - Course I do, I always need more darling. You make me insatiable... - Aye, your need is always a challenge for me. Has to be mouth and fingers now though. He eased himself from her, crouched between her thighs, lifted her legs to expose cunt and anus, wet with their mixed ejaculate. Lapped there, tongue pressing her arsehole till it entered her and she gasped. He withdrew, fumbled in his rucsac, found the buttplug which so excited her, lubed it slightly. Pressed it home at the setting he knew worked best for her. Plug humming in her arse, watching her face as the vibrations sounded through her, his fingers plunged in her cunt abruptly. - This is mine. You darling, all your sexuality, this part of you belongs to me... His fingers sawed hard in her cunt, her hips rising from the seat as his pads dug and rubbed her gspot. Gentle it wasn't, and it wasn't meant to be. It was what she craved, what he needed to give. His eyes were on her face as it contorted beautifully in her need. Christ he loved watching her as he pleasured her, seeing her leave him for the intensity that filled her being, the now only she could ever experience, complete abandonment to her sexuality. - Harder darling, need harder... He could barely hear the words through her gasps and moans. He slid a fourth finger in, stretching her cuntmouth so she squealed, rammed his hand harder in her, scraping the gspot with his nails. She was so close, and his cock was hard and throbbing again. He yanked the humming plug from her arse and forced his cock where it had been, fucked into her there as his fingers plundered her cunt. Her body spasmed, only eyewhites visible, and his groin was drenched in her squirt: - Oh god oh god oh god... She slowly subsided and he hung over her on his arms, licking this face of utmost beauty, now lost in satiation. Worshipping his lover, his being entirely focused on her, at one with her. His wet hand slid from her cunt, but she clenched when he made to withdraw from her arse, so he stayed. He was hers, now and always, hers to mould to her needs in every way. He gently shifted her round in the seat so they lay tightly facing each other, and they dozed off in each others'arms. She woke first, shivering. His cock had slipped from her in their sleep and lay soft between them. She twisted round to turn on engine and heater, directed the vents onto their entwined bodies. Watched as his eyes flickered open: - Darling, I think I'm rested now. Time to get back on the road soon. Um, I didn't say it properly before, but welcome to Australia. - Oh sweetness, you said it in every way but words. That was the most beautiful welcome you could have given me. But yes -- glancing at his watch -- time to go soon. -- He stifled a yawn --Sorry! I could do with more coffee and nibbles, but I'm afraid they're all gone. - Let's get moving then darling, there's an all-night stop an hour up the road to sustain us till we get home. They kissed, hands stroking each other, in gentle love, not in need. Helped each other wipe away the remains of their lovemaking, and dress. The towels on the seat were soaked through, and as Sandy lifted them to put them in the back, there was a wet patch on the passenger seat. He resisted the temptation to leave the car for a smoke, and settled into the seat once she'd restored it: - Your car does have some handy gadgets darling. Melanie laughed and started the car. They talked companionably all the way, and at nearly two in the morning she switched off the engine outside a bungalow in the suburbs of Canberra. ***** There was a single lit window at the end of the house: - Mum's still up, the silly thing. She needs her sleep more now she's older. More lights went on as they got his luggage to the door. It opened to reveal a tall elderly woman in a dressing gown. Melanie embraced her, chiding her gently for staying up late, then introduced her to Sandy. He embraced her lightly, kissed the proffered cheek. - Well! You've come a long way. You must be exhausted, both of you. Come on in, the kettle'll boil in a sec. Her accent was more pronounced than Melaine's; warm, rich and earthy. They chatted about their journeys as the older woman brought tea and fruitcake to the table, resolutely turning down offers of assistance. When she sat, her bright eyes turned to Sandy: - You will call me Phil, please, I'm not your Mum. Actually I'm Phyllis, but I hate it. Bear that in mind. The engaging smile belied the severity of her words. - Aye, fine, Phil it is. And please don't call me Alexander. If you do I'll know I've done something to upset you, which heaven forfend. I don't think I'd like to be on the wrong side of you... Journey into Melanie's Reality Ch. 01 - Oh, has my daughter been talking out of turn? I know she spends half her life emailing you... - Mum! You know I never talk out of turn! Someone trained that out of me a long time ago. Sandy's just a good judge of character, so don't let yours slip when you're around him. When after a few minutes Phil rose to bid them goodnight, it was her mouth she offered Sandy for a polite kiss. As she embraced her daughter she admonished: - And no hanky-panky my girl. At least, not when I'm in the house. With a warm smile at them both, she went to her bedroom. - Well! Your Mum's quite a woman. I can see where you've got some of your strength from darling. Um, I hope calling you darling isn't considered hanky-panky? Melanie stroked his hand: - Oh love, I'm so glad! She likes you. I've been worried about that: she can react badly to some folk through no fault of theirs. But we need to be careful how we address each other in front of her, and the children. She doesn't know we're lovers, least not from me. We might just get away with 'dear' with Mum and the littlies, but nothing more affectionate, d'you hear me? - I took to her instantly darling. There's something quite Scots about the mock-severity, with twinkling eyes showing the truth. I felt very comfortable with her. And yes, I understand about how we address each other. But -- he rose and drew Melanie to her feet -- she's not here now. She sank in his embrace, mouths yearningly together, limbs entwined. Then she pushed him away, panting hard: - Let's get out of here Sandy, she might come back. Or one of the children could get up. Time to get your things to your room. It's the only one upstairs, it's normally my library and office. I can focus better when I'm a bit detached from the rest of the house. I put you there deliberately, for your privacy, and ours... The room was comfortable, hard double bed, computer desk, lots of books, ensuite shower and toilet. It was over the garage she said, so nobody below could hear movement in it. He didn't bother beginning to unpack. Threw Melanie on the bed, still in her dress. Lowered his loose trousers and flung himself on her, panting: - We've unfinished business to attend to. Hands and knees woman, and pull your dress up, your arse needs fucked. She knew this voice. The need to submit, to be his entirely, flooded her. She obeyed, presented her arse to him, lewdly looking at him over her shoulder. She shivered as he slid the belt from his trousers: - All yours master. For your pleasure. Anything you want... Her knees were wide apart and he brought the belt up from below to slap her cunt lightly. Relished her shivers: - More? - Anything you want, please master. The next time the belt struck her cunt harder, then harder again, and harder still. But he didn't want to play at that moment, just to prepare her. He needed to fuck her arse, knew she needed that too. Her hand moved unbidden to smear cuntjuice round and into her arse as his cock dripped precum on her strong thighs. He pushed her hand away and it went to her cunt as his erection pierced her anus: - Jesus, I need this. Hard, master, use your girl... Raw beautiful animal lust. He didn't need her encouragement to ravage her, almost wished she'd resist him, but she never did. He grabbed her long hair, wrapped it in his hand as his cock raided her intimacy, taking her for himself, using her as she needed to be used sometimes, establishing his temporary supremacy. Jesus, her tight beautiful bum, swallowing him. He was nothing but cock now, lost in the wonder of her arse, couldn't last, too fucking intense, puresex, oh fuck. His fingers closed round her throat, tight in his frenzy. She bucked and writhed under him wickedly, urging him on with her body. The seed rose from his balls and as the spunk filled her she ululated her orgasm. His hand moved to stifle the unearthly wail. They slowly collapsed. - Oh sweetness, my darling woman. Need to see you... He eased her round and slipped under her supple leg so he was beneath her, cock still lodged in her. They gazed at each other wordless, and he relished the beatific smile which told him she'd reached where she needed to go. As he had. God they were perfect for each other. Eventually she shivered, moved, and his cock slipped out of her: - Darling, I want to stay with you, tonight and always. But the children might wake and need me. I hate it, but I have to go. - I know sweetness. Um, afraid your gorgeous dress is a bit crumpled: look at yourself! She rose and moved to the mirror, smiled at what she saw: - Fuck, I look like a slut... - No slut sweet, the most loved woman in the world. Just a bit crumpled, that's all. I'll handwash your dress with reverence darling. And with immense pleasure... - No way! What d'you think Mum would say if she saw you over the laundry sink with an erection, rubbing your cock in my dress? -- she giggled at the image - Can't have that, thank you! I'll do it myself. - Um yes, when you put it that way... Now come here again before you go. We need to clean each other. She pulled the dress up again and settled on him, soixante-neuf. They lapped and sucked each other lovingly clean. Rose and kissed lingeringly. He was asleep minutes after hearing her stockinged soles pad down the stairs. Journey into Melanie's Reality Ch. 02 Author's note: If you haven't read the first chapter of this, it will make more sense if you do so. Thanks to all of you for your appreciative comments on chapter one. I hope you enjoy this one too. And very special thanks to my editor and muse. ***** She was woken earlier than she wished by her three children climbing on the bed, snuggling into her: - Is he here Mummy, where is he? It was almost as though they'd expected him to be in her bed. The thought made her shiver momentarily. She hoped that day would come. They were giggling and bubbling in their excitement, and tired as she was, she couldn't help but join them in it: - Darlings, the poor man was in the air and mostly sleepless for nearly 24 hours. Remember how I was when I got back from Europe? I was dead with fatigue and jetlag for a couple of days afterwards. I know how excited you are to meet him, but give him a bit of rest. Now, which of you is going to be kind enough to make me some tea? Mummy had a long hard day driving... The three of them were out of the door, squealing with joy, before she finished the sentence. They always needed something to occupy them, and she was adept at devising things to keep them busy. God she loved them, though they could be a handful. There had been moments when she nearly regretted having three children in as many years. Nearly. They were more biddable now they were older. She lay for a few minutes thinking about them. The mites missed their Dad greatly, had been traumatised by his premature death in hospital three months previously. There were nights when all three of them ended up in her bed after nightmares, weeping in their loss, and irrationally fearful that their Mummy might follow him. Having their Gran stay for a bit had lifted them, as she hoped Sandy's visit would too. She was desperate for them to like him, and for him to like them. She was optimistic on both counts, had met his grown children, knew that they were beautiful human beings; that the joy they shared spoke of happy childhoods and loving parents. The door opened to a jostle of children: - I made the tea Mummy... - I made the toast... - And I spread the marmalade... God how she loved them. Glanced at the clock as she sat up to receive the breakfast tray. Nearly eight. There were two mugs on the tray. She hesitated, then said: - Umm... maybe it's time for Sandy to have his first tea too. He's in my office. Can someone manage to take this mug to him without spilling the tea? And be gentle waking him, he'll be really tired... They were out of the door, yelping in glee. Melanie rose, noticing the faint residue of her own sexscent. Slipped on her dressing gown, took her tea and toast, and followed them through the house to the stairs. ***** Small hands shaking his shoulder stirred him from sleep, young voices urging him to wake. He turned onto his back to see three very excited children, one proffering a steaming mug. He took the tea gratefully, set it on the shelf beside the bed: - Well, thank you for a lovely start to my morning. Now... who's who here? Melanie's told me all about you of course, and your photos are on my mantelpiece... - I'm William. I'm the oldest. Nearly a teenager... The lanky boy smiled engagingly. Sandy extended his right hand. The lad shook it solemnly. - Lovely to meet you William. Mum tells me you're an authority on just about everything? - Oh, trust Mum. I'm a bit young yet to be an authority on everything. Um, just some things. The lad burst into a fit of giggles. His sisters had been standing back, giving their brother space. Now the smaller launched herself onto the bed, hugging Sandy round his neck: - Mummy's told us all about you Sandy. I'm Frances. I don't like to be called Frankie, though these people -- her head twisted to look disdainfully at her siblings -- sometimes call me that. Mummy says you have a kilt? I hope you brought it... He kissed her freckled brow as she squirmed on him: - Frances you are then. Your birthday's soon I think? Your tenth. A very important birthday! Yes lass, I brought my kilt. Your Mummy instructed me to wear it on your birthday. And this one must be Maria... The third child was reserved, maybe a bit cool. He saw her mother in her face, not just the physical features, but the subtle self-confidence. The girl moved forward, bent to kiss his cheek graciously: - Yup, I'm Maria. I'm the only one round here who knows how to make tea properly... - You are not, madame! Melanie had been standing at the door, smiling as the children introduced themselves to her lover. Maria turned to her: - Sorry Mum. I didn't know you were there. I meant that I'm the only one of us who knows how to make tea properly. Cos Dad taught me... - Good morning Melanie. I think I've met everyone in your family now. Maybe you should put your tea and toast down somewhere? Maria intervened: - Not quite everyone Sandy. Just wait, you must meet Bartok... Melanie kissed her briefly before her elder daughter ran down the stairs, two at a time. Entered the room properly, put her arms round the other two, bent and kissed Sandy's brow. She wanted her children to know she cared for this man. She had to be open with them, to an extent at least: - Good morning sleepyhead. Sorry if my billylids woke you earlier than you wanted, but it's a lovely day. Far too good to waste in bed. And they were desperate to see you. No idea why, really... Frances giggled as Melanie kissed him again, lightly. His mouth this time. Then a rather fat black cat jumped onto the bed. Sandy's hand moved to tickle it behind the ears. The cat stretched its neck, began purring, then dribbling. Clearly a tom: - Good morning Bartok. You're almost as expressive as your namesake... Maria was standing beside the others, pride on her face: - Yes, and he's my cat. Isn't he lovely? Her mother's voice cut in, a little sharply: - Maria! We got him for your birthday, true. But he's not your cat! Nobody can own a cat, he's his own... animal. Sorry, nearly said person there... - Mummy, he is a person. Just a cattish one! Laughter filled the room. Sandy chuckled as he sipped tea: - Whatever he is, Bartok's lovely. Now folks, I'm fully woken up. You're the best waker-uppers I've had since my bairns were wee. But maybe you could leave now and let me get dressed? Please? You need to show me round your home, and you're not doing that when I'm naked... - Yes, clear out now my sweet children, go and make your beds. Excited discussion sounded over the patter of feet on the stairs. Melanie closed and locked the door, pulled the cover from him. His erection stood proud. She knelt by the bed: - God I need this. Wanted him last night. Have to make it quick though... Her mouth closed around him. - Oh fuck darling, I was dreaming about you when the littlies woke me. I -- he winced as pleasure soared through him -- I won't last long. Jesus, love your mouth... but isn't this hanky-panky? - You aren't afraid of Mum, are you? - No, I... Her face sank on him till he filled her throat. Then she lifted her head: - Good. Need you. Now. She looked in his eyes, opened her dressing gown, cast it on the floor. She was crouching by the bed, and her hand moved to her wet cunt as her mouth went down on him again. She felt his cock jerk at the sight of her lewd nakedness. Jesus she wanted him, and this morning it would be her mouth. She worked and teased, wanking herself as she pleasured him, felt his hips rise to her face, pants and groans issuing from him as he writhed under her ministrations. Felt his cock swelling in her liquid throat. Used every muscle she knew to pleasure her man. Stroked his balls, felt them tighten under her fingertips. Rubbed her clit harder, plunged two fingers in her needy cunt. Felt her own explosion building as her face contorted on his sex. Jesus, now... - Ohhhhhhh darling. Jesusgod... The spunk squirted down her throat. She convulsed as the orgasm hit her, and her teeth sank gently into the flesh between them. He shuddered and thrust into her again, spunking harder. When it was finished she crawled onto the bed and nuzzled him. Eventually she managed to croak: - Good morning darling. We need to start the day. Welcome to Canberra. ***** By the time he'd showered and come down to the dining area, everyone bar Phil was sitting at the table. She was over the cooker. He moved to help her, but was shooed away: - You'll get your turn at making breakfast, don't worry. Feeling better for your rest? I don't suppose the little lovelies allowed you to sleep in? - Hardly. No idea who put them up to it. Here, at least I can take the dishes to the table. And -- lifting the teapot -- there's not much in this. I need a lot of tea in the morning. Maria...? It wasn't hard for him to feel settled in this warm family, as they tucked into their breakfast together. He'd have felt comfortable if Melanie was just a friend, and not his lover. They'd have to be careful of course, and George was omnipresent, not just in the lowered kitchen surfaces. Sandy knew that he was just under the skin in the children. When they'd eaten, Phil made to rise. Sandy's hand moved to her wiry arm: - In my family there's a rule. The person who cooks isn't allowed to clear the table or wash dishes. Please don't argue with me Phil. At least, not on this one? - Hmmm... -- her face was a study in reluctant compliance -- I suppose you need to have your way in something, being a man. But her eyes were alive as she spoke. After he placed the last of the dishes on the draining board, a hand slipped into his. Maria's, a little to his surprise: - Now Sandy, you need to see our home. An hour later he was back at the table. Melanie and Phil hadn't moved during his tour, during which he'd learned as much about the children as he did about the geography of their home. George was everywhere, in the wet-floor shower, the wide doors, the kitchen surfaces lowered for access from a wheelchair. The bairns had scattered in the garden. - I think you need a coffee dear? His eyes flicked briefly to Phil at Melanie's endearment. The older woman's smile was untroubled. - Yes... Melanie, that would be lovely. - So, not-so-stranger, tell me of your plans whilst you're here? Melanie says you have to go to Sydney for the launch of a novel. I'm impressed: I don't think I've ever met a novelist. Well, not a published one... - Yes. Believe me, I'm more surprised at being published than anyone. Wait a sec, I'll be right back. He had a hardback and a fountain-pen in his hand when he returned, and Melanie was fussing over coffee-making: - Here Phil -- carefully writing in the fly-leaf -- Melanie has the Scots edition. You're the first person to have the Aussie one. I want to have a look at Sydney when I'm there of course, maybe spend a few days exploring. But mostly I want to stay with you all, learn about your city and the countryside around. For as long as you can put up with me, that is... - Sandy, I know what's going on. Know that my daughter and you are more than friends. -- Her hand touched his arm when he started to protest -- Please allow me to know my daughter, Sandy. And I can feel your love for her. She's had a hard few years, harder than anyone appreciates. George, bless his soul, had no idea how difficult it was for her. She needs a break Sandy, and a decent man will do her good. You seem decent enough to me -- so far. You have my blessing. I want you to know that. But take care with the children. - Phil, I don't know what to say... cept of course I'll take care with the children... - Better to say nothing, then. Her fingers squeezed his arm gently. Hundreds of words gently. There were tears in his eyes as Melanie laid the tray of coffee things on the table. She'd caught enough of the conversation and hung back so she didn't intrude. She stood behind Sandy, placed her hands on his shoulders, bent over and kissed her mother: - Thank you Mum. We'll be very careful with the children, I promise. I'd prefer them to like... my man. ***** The next two days were spent around the house. And the garden. The children delighted in helping Sandy to identify birds, lizards, frogs, and once a snake that William said was dangerous. They showed off dizzying tree-climbing skills, and Maria could identify every butterfly. On the second afternoon Phil diplomatically took the children to the library. Sandy and Melanie were fucking hard in the garden, his cock deep in her as she propped her hands against a wall, when they heard the crunch of tyres on gravel and separated just in time; his belt and flies fastened, her dress smoothed down, before the children besieged them. On the third day, at breakfast, Sandy announced: - Right, I've had enough of being pampered. I'm making dinner tonight. So you guys -- nodding at the children -- need to help me. I don't know anything about shopping here. It was the first time he'd driven in Australia, and the first time he'd been completely on his own with the children. They laughed mercilessly when he kept flicking on the wipers instead of the indicators, but other than learning a new car, the driving was fine. The road rules and courtesies were very similar to those at home. The supermarket was another matter. Melanie had warned him that taking the children shopping was like throwing ball-bearings and watching them scatter. Accurate, except that you can sometimes see the ball-bearings. Between aisles in the shop, he could barely even hear them, other than the occasional squeal from Frances. Eventually he managed to round them up. Fuck, three were so much harder than two! He gave them a lecture about how he needed help, so they had to stay with him. They did. For about three minutes. Eventually the shopping was in the car, and he took them to a cafe for lunch. Melanie had a deadline on an article, so she needed space. They had a long walk through the pedestrianised city centre, and down to the north shore of Lake Burley Griffin. He'd brought stale bread against that eventuality, and watched as the three fed black swans and other wildfowl. He'd forgotten to bring suncream though: not something he needed much at home. His skin was burning on the way back. The children had applied cream before they left the house. Ach, he'd learn Australian ways in time. His dinner was simple: grilled salmon steaks, new potatoes and green veg from the garden, a couple of bottles of what he'd been assured was decent local Chardonnay. Bramble crumble and fresh cream from what the children called blackberries in the garden. After dinner the kids scattered around the house. - Not bad, young man. I'm glad you can manage things in the kitchen. He knew by now that this was praise indeed from Phil: - Thank you. I'll make dinner at least every third day from now on please? I want to pull my weight in this house. Melanie was fascinated by the unfolding interplay between her mother and her man. She was learning new things about them both, but especially about Sandy. She felt very relaxed, knowing her occasionally ascerbic mother liked her partner. And he was getting on like a house on fire with the children. Time for another test, then: - Sandy, I haven't quite finished my article, and it's due in tomorrow first thing. Would you be an angel please, and put the children to bed? Maybe you could read to them? Phil glanced archly at her daughter and excused herself, saying the wine had made her drowsy. Sandy drew Melanie to her feet and kissed her: - Of course darling. My pleasure. Go and finish your work. ***** He got the bairns to bed, eventually. It had been a long time since he'd spent almost an entire day with sole responsibility for young children, and he was exhausted. He sank in a chair and tried to read for a bit, Tim Winton. He was seeking to better understand this huge country through its recent literature. But he couldn't focus. Glanced at his watch. Surely she must have finished the article by now? He checked on the children before climbing the stairs. Melanie was still at the computer when he entered the room. She turned at the sound of his entry. He noticed her nipples hard through the flimsy of her sleepwear. - I'm just finishing sweet. Thank you for taking care of the children today. It was wonderful having a quiet house, not having to worry about how they were. Are they asleep now? - Aye, just checked, out like lights. They didn't let me off with just one story though... - Dill! If you give them an inch they'll take a mile. Don't you remember from when yours were young? - Um, vaguely. But these aren't mine darling. I want them to like me, so yes, maybe I'm being a bit indulgent. - You're doing fine so far love: I know they like you. But would you give me another few minutes to finish this piece, then we can chat? Um, maybe you could look it over before I send it. Is there any wine left? - I'd love to read the article. And yes, there's maybe half a bottle left. - Well give me peace to do my final edit. And fetch the wine! He kissed the top of her head and went downstairs. Checked on the children again and read another couple of pages of his novel. He didn't like anyone hanging over his shoulder, even being in the same room, when he was working, and he knew Melanie was the same. He rose when he heard his name called softly. She was at the door when he climbed the stairs: - All done darling. Have a read at what's on the screen. I'll pour the wine. He sat at the computer and absently reached for the glass when she set it on the desk. She felt very comfortable having him in her home: she'd worried about that, about how they'd fit together on her territory. How her mother and children would take to him, with George's ghost everywhere. She had no remaining worries. Warmth and care filled her home. It hadn't even crossed her mind to be concerned when Sandy took the littlies off for the day: she knew she could trust him to look after them. God, the world was good sometimes... - Darling. I hadn't realised... what your piece was about. Um, well, I never asked you, I suppose. It's heartrendingly beautiful. Thank you for allowing me into you. We've never really talked about how you felt about George. And his death. You just gave me an outline of what happened. It was something I never had confidence to probe into. She kissed his bald patch, stroked his shoulders: - Well, I have a weekly column to write. I'd something else in mind for this week, but at some stage I had to get this stuff into words. And once you were here, I finally had the strength to face it. - You must tell me more, when you feel you can sweet. He was the centre of your life for what, about fifteen years? - Yes darling, our fifteenth anniversary is next month. I want to tell you now Sandy. Don't want any secrets between us. But first, would you give it a quick edit please? Sometimes friends edit for me, and of course the subbie at the paper savages my pieces. But I couldn't show this to my friends. - OK love, give me ten minutes. Whilst I'm doing that, you might like to see a pressie I brought for you. - Darling, you've already given me several presents... - Yes I know, but your family couldn't see this one when all my wee gifts were opened at the dining table. -- he got up and rummaged in a drawer -- Here darling, with all my love. She carefully removed giftwrap from the box. He watched her eyes widen as she opened it, then fix on him: - Oh darling! -- she threw her arms round him -- How did you know? - Well, you did tell me at one point that you sometimes wished you had a cock. We had an interesting exchange about that. Now, let me do my work for you so you can send this piece to the paper. Journey into Melanie's Reality Ch. 02 He turned his face to the computer. She played with the strapon in her fingers. He wasn't at all sure how he'd feel about being the one getting fucked, but he knew it was something she had fantasised about for a long time. When he'd finished editing, he swivelled round. And gasped. She was naked but for the strapon. It swayed lewdly from her groin as she studied herself in the mirror. He felt for his camera. She turned in surprise at the sound of the shutter. And blushed. - Darling. You look utterly beautiful. Um, and maybe a wee bit dangerous. But you'd better have a look at my edit before you get completely carried away... He vacated the seat for her, watched as she removed the toy and slipped on her gown. The flames in her eyes were dancing as she hugged him: - You wicked, beautiful, man. But... you know you're the only person I'll ever fuck with that -- an enigmatic smile -- or, at least, the only male... - Aye weel. It's yours to use as you please, but I would prefer it so. I'll just have to cope when you need to take me. Now, check my edit please. - Yes of course. She rose after a few minutes: - That's it sent darling. I incorporated all your suggestions except one. Now -- shrugging off her gown -- remove your clothes. On the bed with you. I need to tell you about George. He slipped out of his clothes, sensing a new level of self-confidence in his lover. Shivered in excitement and fear at the thought. And slipped into bed with her. The strapon and lube were on the cabinet with the wine. They kissed and stroked as she opened fifteen years of her life to him. He barely spoke, except to seek clarification on a couple of points. When she was done, she sank into him, tears soaking his chest. His poor darling: - My sweet. I can't begin to understand how you coped with three young children, and bore the increasing stress and frustration of caring for George. You're the strongest person I've ever met. But. You can't go through life blaming yourself for his death. She opened her mouth, but he laid a finger on it: - Wheesht darling. Let me say this. You had to move here: you couldn't have turned down the job opportunity. You had sole responsibility to provide for the family. And moving much nearer to Phil made life easier for her, as well as for you and the bairns. It was providential that you found this home, already wheelchair-friendly. His pneumonia wasn't triggered by the move from Adelaide love. I know from my friends that MS destroys the immune system eventually. The awful reality is that he was going to die sometime soon: he had no defence against infection left. It was nothing more than chance that it happened so soon after your move. - Uhuh, and you would feel no guilt if it happened to you? - Of course I'd feel guilt. But you can't allow your life to be forever troubled by what-ifs. It's the future that matters, you can't change the past. And... She sensed the import of his hesitation: - And...? He sat up, glugged down the rest of his wine. He hadn't meant to say this so soon, though it had been growing in him since long before his arrival in Canberra. But he'd eased open the floodgates, and it had to come out now. He looked in her eyes, fingers lightly on her shoulders: - Darling, I want to share the future with you and your children. When the time's right, when your bairns can accept me as a fixture in their lives, not just as a visitor. She was silent. No more tears. Her eyes searched his face for some time. He could see that her lips were dry, passed her wine to her. She sipped a little, put the glass down: - That's the most beautiful thing anybody's ever said to me love. Thank you for your belief in me. But let's give it time. And -- she smiled broadly -- you've had rather more wine than I have tonight. I won't hold you to what you've just said. Tell me again at the end of your stay, after you've spent more time alone with the children. And you're stone-cold sober. He made to speak, and this time it was her finger soft on his lips: - Three days with my littl'uns, and only one alone with them, doth not a lifetime make. I know you mean what you say Sandy, and I know how much you love me. But let's give it a bit more time before we, you, enter such a commitment. And right now -- her expression hardened - there are things I want to do to you. With your present. Are you ready for that? Ready for me to fuck your sweet virgin arse? - Put it on then - his voice was a hoarse growl -- I want to give you your pleasure. ***** His face belied his words. She didn't care. This had been a fantasy for years. He'd bought her the thing, knew exactly what it meant: - Hands and knees. She watched intently as he shuffled to obey. Fastened the obscene toy to herself, wriggling to allow the inward-pointing dildo to slide fully into her wetness. Knew a spasm of something she'd never before experienced. Knelt and licked his quivering arse. She'd rimmed him before and his body hadn't shaken like this then. The power surged in her: she loved him for all he was, and now for the first time he was hers to use, offering his last virginity to her. She wet her index finger and gently eased it into his tensely pursed anus, watching him carefully, opening him for her use. Wriggled the finger around , then withdrew it, lubing it and the adjoining one. Opened him with both hands, and tenderly inserted the two slippery fingers, her excitement rising as she imagined her cock pushing into him later. Three fingers this time, and he gasped and flinched, but she held him by the hip; waited until he'd adjusted and then pushed in further. She leaned in and licked all round his tender stretched sphincter, soothing it, as she manipulated her fingers inside him. God, if this is what having a real prick felt like...it was no wonder men rarely stopped to think about the consequences. She wouldn't have, either. When she withdrew her fingers, she noted the gaping hole, and knew that he was hers to take. Powerlust suffused her as she lubed his arse and her new prick. Her hand dipped between his thighs: his penis dangled, soft and unaroused. His problem. But she knew she had to be gentle, had to subdue her need to take him as vigorously as she wished. She wanted him to accept this, if he didn't actually enjoy it. She didn't want to cause him too much pain, so that she could take him again: - Ready, my slave? She felt him tense as her appendage pressed against his sphincter: - Relax darling, please -- she searched her memory for what she felt when the first cock had taken her arse -- try to push out. As if you're going to shit... - Uhhhh... She felt his tension dwindle a fraction, watched as the ring of his arse relaxed. Added a gloop of lube there, and pressed gently. More firmly. Watched intently as the muscle gave way to the invading dildo. Pressed a little more, felt a surge of power as her cock slid into him. And carnal electricity in her gut as the dildo in her cunt pressed harder into her. She was a man-woman now, relishing the pleasure of both. But the man was overtaking the woman: she had to fuck him. Her cunt was aflame as the cock invaded him, but her head was something else. She plunged and bucked relentlessly now, care for his feelings forgotten; took the arse he offered with the cock he'd bought her, told him her need: - Hands up behind your back, sweet manslut. He obeyed. The charge surged through her and she tugged and twisted her own nipples. Fucked him harder, her body twisting and rearing, sweat dripping from her. Her fingers lost the slippery teats in her uncontrollable movements but now they were afire, her head mush, all was power, and the dildo driving in her cunt. She switched on the vibrator and her cuntlips clenched on the plastic in her, oh jesus, how beautiful... and she released. Soaked his arse as the flood escaped round her cock. Sank against his back in delirium. Eventually his words filtered through to what remained of her brain: - Darling? Please move, I'm getting a bit uncomfortable. I don't think I've ever passed out on your back. Yet... She drew her cock from him slowly. There were traces of shit on it and that brought some consciousness back: - Oh sweetness. I'm sorry, did I hurt you? - No, not hurt exactly... She crouched back, removed the thing that had given her such power: - Sorry, I was just swept away by... everything. Her brain was returning, but slowly. She wasn't normally inarticulate. She lay beside him, covered his face in kisses as her fingers lingered over his body, settled on his cock. She glanced at the bedside alarm: - Darling, it's late. Please, would you go and check on the children? I don't think I can move... - And exactly what makes you think I can? He smiled and eased himself from the bed: - Jesusfuck, my arse. Maybe that pressie wasn't such a good idea after all. But he was smiling as he shrugged on the dressing-gown and left the room. She was asleep when he returned. Naked and sprawling, legs akimbo. His cock twitched. He knelt and licked her engorged cunt. The scent and taste suffused his being. He fucked her for himself as she slept, only slight moans suggesting any consciousness in her. He didn't care. As the spunk spurted into her, he realised it was the first time he'd ever taken a sleeping woman. Though he'd been tempted once before, that first night they spent in Paris... He recalled the memory with tenderness. He remembered to set the alarm for six before he switched the lamp off. She'd told him the bairns never woke before six-thirty. He kissed her slack mouth briefly. And slept. Journey into Melanie's Reality Ch. 03 Author's note: You will follow this more readily if you begin with the first two chapters. My apologies to readers for the long gap between the second and third chapters. Thanks to all who have commented by post and email. My deepest gratitude to my careful editor, and to a new friend who has also helped. ***** He flicked off the alarm; immediately realised he was alone. Lay for a bit, reflecting on what Melanie had told him about life with George. And on the sex they had shared last night. God, he'd loved giving her the pleasure of fucking his arse. It hadn't aroused him at all physically, but her need had been palpable. Especially when she'd stopped trying to be careful, had used him for her own release. He wondered why she'd left before the alarm. Considered going back to sleep; realised he couldn't. He showered, noting the stinging tenderness when he washed his arse. Shaved, dressed, and headed for the kitchen. Phil was waiting for the kettle to boil: - Good morning young man. You're up early? - Good morning Phil. Yes, I woke and couldn't get back to sleep. - Uhuh. Conscience troubling you? He started: - Not particularly, no... - Look Sandy, you promised me that you'd take care with the children, both of you. Frances spent the night in my bed after nightmares, because her mother wasn't there for her. - I'm sorry... - Shut up and listen to me man. I told Frances an untruth. Said you were ill last night, and that her mummy was looking after you. That was the first time I've told a lie to a grandchild. I will not do it again, ever. Do you understand me? For the first time he couldn't meet her eyes: - Yes Phil. I understand. I am sorry... The inadequacy of his words seared him. - Do me the decency of looking at me when we speak Sandy. His shamed eyes rose to hers. -- Now, Melanie tells me she wants to accompany you to Sydney tomorrow. I'm fine with that, and I don't care what you do together when you're alone. I do know what it's like to be in love. She smiled, remembering. - But. You will please remember that in this house the children come first. They were traumatised by George's death. They can't cope with their mum not being available for them, for any reason, when she's here. And know this: I agreed to look after the children when Melanie's in Sydney mainly because it's an important literary function, and it might help her get noticed, get her poetry noticed. - Yes Phil. It won't happen again. And that's why I suggested that she accompany me to Sydney... - We'll speak no more of this Sandy. I know it won't be necessary again. - No, it won't. I'm ashamed of my selfishness... - Melanie forgot herself too. I'm sure it wasn't all your doing. He was surprised when she moved to him, put her hand on his shoulder, and pecked him on the mouth. Knew her absolution. - Well, maybe you'd better take them both some tea and toast now? ***** She was lying awake when he entered her bedroom, her fingers entwined in the hair of her sleeping daughter. She whispered: - Good morning darling. Had your lecture? I have to tell you that she gave me hell. - I didn't get hell love, he bent to kiss her -- but she was very forthright. - It was my fault sweetness. I shouldn't have stayed in your room. But I was totally drained... - Aye, I noticed. - But not so drained that I was unaware of your need darling. Glad you used me to relieve yourself. My cunt's still spunky. - Ohhhhh. I really thought you were asleep... it excited me intensely, to take you like that. - That's why I didn't 'wake up', dill. Now, where's my tea? Frances stirred with her mother's movement to take the mug, and a drop of tea spilled on her freckled arm. Fortunately it wasn't boiling any more, but the sensation woke the girl. She snuggled into her mummy, turned: - Oh. Good morning Sandy. Um, Gran said you were ill last night. Are you better now? He leaned to kiss her brow and an arm went round his neck. - Yes lassie, thank you. Your mummy took very good care of me and I'm fine now. Want some tea? She nodded and sat up as he passed her the mug: - One sugar, right? The girl yawned a nod. Melanie said: - She didn't get much sleep dear. And neither did I. What's the day like? Sandy peered through the uncurtained window: - It's a beautiful day woman. I think we're on Plan A? Frances sat up fast, sleepy look gone: - Ohh, that sounds exciting! What's Plan A? - Well... Melanie stroked her daughter's brow -- I thought it was time Sandy saw some Aussie wildlife, beyond what's in the garden. So as it's a lovely day I thought we might take a picnic to Tidbinbilla. - YESSSS! Must tell Maria and William... The girl's excited calls sounded through the house. Sandy smiled at his lover: - Well, so much for her catching up on sleep darling? - Um yes, she's awake now for sure. - But you don't need to be. You get a bit more kip and I'll organise the picnic. Don't worry, Phil'll keep me right. - Yes, I'm sure she will. OK sweet, I'll try and get a bit more sleep. Kiss me Sandy. Do you know how much I love you? Mmmmm... - God you melt me sweetheart. But enough of this or I'll be getting hard again... Her hand snaked down between them: - You already are. But now let a girl rest, picnicman. - Aye boss. He resisted the temptation to stroke her wet cunt. ***** Phil was organising breakfast for the excited children. - Your daughter's instructed me to organise the picnic. What's best for sandwiches? - Chicken salad, they all like that. Some without onion. Madame, nodding at Frances - doesn't like them. Maybe some peanut butter. And some cheese and tomato. I'm just making breakfast for the littlies now; we can have ours when Melanie surfaces. She's nodded off again? - Yes, how I envy her the ability to do that. - You have to learn when you breastfeed constantly for four years. Presently Melanie joined them, bright as the morning, and the adults ate together whilst the children played outside. Phil was light and cheerful, and no more was said about what had happened during the night. Sandy washed the dishes as the others packed the car. Soon they were negotiating roundabouts on their way out of the city. His cock twitched at the sight of Melanie's thighs beside him, but sex was off-limits today. Sandy had acquiesced when she asked him to drive, knowing his inexpertise with her car would have the bairns in fits of giggles. It did. ***** All were tired when they got home, the children utterly worn out, but still high. Phil volunteered to put them to bed: - I'm less indulgent than either of you, and they need their sleep. We have to be up well before six to get you two on the train. It wouldn't do you any harm to get a decent sleep either. For once. Melanie squirmed on her seat when they were alone: - God I want you to fuck me. Wanted you all day. My cunt's dripping. She lifted the sundress and parted her legs. Silk panties transparent at the crotch. Sandy knelt between her legs and licked there, through the fabric, but she pushed his head away: - Darling, we just can't. Not after this morning. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have tempted you like that. - No, you fucking well shouldn't. He was intense with frustration. -- Have you any idea how much I need you? Now! I've been hard all day, watching you in that skimpy sundress. And you tell me cunt's off the menu tonight? Is there anything on it? There was just an edge of anger in his voice: not something she was used to hearing. But she was consumed with maternal guilt that Frances had needed her the previous night, and she hadn't been there. And her mother's words of fury still stung. Phil had used language Melanie had never heard from her lips. Had immediately apologised when her daughter crumpled before her, but it had been said. There could be no hint of sex tonight: Melanie knew she'd crossed a line with her mother. No sex before they reached the hotel in Sydney. Mmm, unless... She rose and kissed her man: - No darling, there's nothing on the menu tonight at all. We have to wank in our separate beds. But a thought just crossed my dirty mind. One you might like to think about when you play with yourself for me. Sandy knew it had been unreasonable to want her, regretted his outburst. He perked up at her words: - Uhuh, and what might that be? - Well... we'll be over four hours on the train... - And? We can't fuck in the train darling. It's not as though we have a private berth. - Dillbrain! This is a civilised country you know. Your trains might not have toilets, but ours do. - Jesus Melanie. You are a dirty girl sometimes; I love you for it. But... we'll not be the only ones on the train. Folks will notice. There might even be someone who knows you. - Hardly likely, I've only been in Canberra a few months. And anyway, the risk excites me. I want to do it Sandy. I'm wet just thinking about it. He couldn't resist, his fingers moved up her thigh. Her needjuice was running down it. Slid under the silk and touched her heat. She pushed his hand away: - Mum's coming. They parted like guilty teenagers as Phil came into the room: - All fast asleep! As you two should be. Melanie turned to her, smiling. The instant transformation from vixen in heat to dutiful daughter was delightful. - Yes mum, I'm just going. She kissed her mother, then Sandy, and moved to her bedroom with goodnights floating over her shoulder. - I'm going too Phil. Had a wonderful day. Never seen Australian wildlife before. And it's a long time since I've shared such joy with children. Thank you for everything. She offered her mouth for a parting kiss, as one bestowing a great gift. In his room, he studied the train timetable. The longest it ran without stopping was between Mittagong and Campbeltown, just under an hour. Long enough. He found a salacious cuntpic Melanie had sent him and wanked hard, imagining her in the train toilet. Spurted for his lover. And slept. ***** The train was at the platform when they arrived, though the doors were locked. Sandy was bemused. This was the capital city of a major developed economy, but here it felt like a provincial outpost. The station had one platform, and only three trains a day. He was surprised. He mentioned it to Melanie, who was juggling three excited bairns. - Most commuters between Canberra and Sydney fly darling. I think our trains are slow by British standards. The doors wheezed open. The children enthused to get the luggage aboard, Melanie insisting that one small case went above their seat, and not on the luggage-racks near the door. Much hugging and kissing, then the announcement that the train was about to depart. The children left the carriage to join their Gran. Hands waved through glass, fingers to lips. Sandy knew he'd miss his new family. But he had his woman, alone. She turned and kissed him longingly as they drew out of the station: - Sandy, we're going to fuck on this train. Want you in me darling. He glanced at his watch, then at the timetable in his hand: - Not till after Mittagong sweetheart. Nearly three hours till you're properly mine again. Sleep my love. - There's something I need to do first. Get me down the little case please? She drew a small bag from it: - Bend your head towards me darling. He obeyed as her fingers moved on his neck, fastening a light silver chain. She held an identical one out to him: - Please darling? He fumbled, eventually managed it, and the chain was shining at her neck. Her smile radiant: - This is my welcome gift to you darling. A bit late I know, but we couldn't both wear them in front of the family. Not yet. - Oh sweetness, how beautiful. I'm... just stunned. Thank you darling. What an appropriate symbol of our love: chained to each other, by each other. But I think we both need to see them on ourselves. He rose from his aisle seat, took her hand. -- Come on, toilet. Just for the mirror, this time... They slipped into the toilet together and he locked the door. Faced Melanie to the mirror, and looked over her shoulder. They glowed at the image of themselves, chained to each other. He could contain himself no longer and lifted her dress, pulled her panties down: - Darling, you'll sleep better after an orgasm. Watch as I wank you. His fingers slid into her heat and curled. Her eyes were on his hand in the mirror at first, but as his fingers moved faster and harder, tugging her gspot, her pupils turned up. - Watch darling, I want you to see how it looks when you squirt. - Oh god oh god oh god... He lowered his hand as the jets erupted. She was close to the mirror and collapsed back against him, her sexfluid running down it. He kissed her neck: - That's one of the sexiest things I've ever seen my dirty lassie. You watched too? - Fuck yes. Auto-exhibitionism huh? I think we just created a new fetish for me. She was still gasping for breath, her face relaxed and content. She always appeared ten years younger after orgasm. - Glad you enjoyed it darling. Now you understand how it turns your man on to watch you. Her fingers were at his zip but he moved them gently: - No sweet, I'm saving myself for Mittagong. He knelt and removed her panties completely, wiped her cunt and the mirror with them, and put them in his pocket. - You won't need these for the rest of the journey. Now let's get back to our seats. The man waiting at the toilet door sniffed conspicuously as he entered the tiny cubicle. Melanie tried, but couldn't stifle a giggle: - Oh darling, how I love you. She slept. He watched her beautiful profile. Drifted off eventually, conscious of the lingering discomfort at his arse, always amazed that this woman was his. They were woken by the train stopping at Moss Vale. She whispered: - Hope you're ready for me darling. Mittagong's not far now. He moved her hand under the table to touch the erection through his shorts: - More than ready. I need you. Some minutes later the train drew out of Mittagong. He kissed her and took her hand: - Nervous? - Course I'm nervous, dill. And soaking with excitement. Now move. Let's not waste time... They walked through the next carriage, as if going to the bar. The toilet was vacant. He hadn't locked the door and she was already fumbling excitedly at his zip: - God I need this... How do you want me, master? He quivered as always at her use of the word, stepped out of his shorts and briefs, just remembering to lock the door: - From behind my dirty girl. Bend over there, they've kindly provided a bar for you to hold onto, and at just the right height. Almost designed for the purpose. But I want you naked. She shrugged out of her skimpy dress and bra and presented herself lewdly, cunt swollen with need, an obscene sexflower. Kissed him. Then bent over, clutching the bars. He drew the belt from his shorts and lashed her arse till it was red and marked, then swung it up to strike her cunt. She moaned in anguish: - Fill me master. Now. Fuck me hard. She jerked as his column plunged into her. - Jesus I need this sweetness, after the torture of yesterday. You're just going to get fucked, cunt and arse. Never lusted more for your cuntiness... - Take me, use me, I belong to you. Want you to spunk my cunt, then ram it in my arse for more spunk there. She was panting now, -- Think... think you can, master? - Just... might. He leaned over her and his fingers sought her dangling breasts, tugged and twisted her nipples as his cock thrust into her depth. He grabbed her hair fiercely with one hand as the other went to her throat. She moaned and quavered under him, her cunt clutching, and he thrust harder, balls tightening. The train wrenched into a tight corner, wheels squealing, and he had to grab her hips to stay upright. The surprise slowed him. He reached for his belt and looped it round her neck, sliding the end through the buckle. A choke-collar. Hardened again as he marauded her cunt, Melanie gasping at the pressure on her neck, jesus, so beautiful, balls tightening again... knew he had to withdraw and enter her arse as soon as he spurted, oh god, now... He rammed his spunking cock into her anus as the second wave of orgasm hit her. Her clenching bum drained him. Welded into her, he stroked her flanks, belt slack at her neck now: - Sweet jesus darling, never in my life done that before, spunked two holes in one orgasm... - Mmm, thought so... she was still gasping - The next target is three, up for that? I'll need to think about the best order... we might have to practise a bit. Hope you brought your blue pills? Her laughter expelled him. She twisted and knelt before him: - This needs cleaning. How wonderful to watch her face as she licked and sucked his cock. Lewd service, how he loved her. Jesus, it was stirring again. No way he was going to cum again, not after that explosion, but she was insatiable now, and he could at least pleasure her: - Keep sucking. Know your cunt needs more cock... - Yes master, you're right, need this in me again. - Better get it completely clean then; you don't want an infection. Then get up sweetness. You're going to ride me. She rose uncertainly once she'd cleansed him: - How will I do that in here? - I sit on the toilet. You fuck me. Facing the mirror, so we can both watch your sexhibition. - Oh jesus, yes! She lowered herself onto him. - Frig your clit as you ride me. She obeyed and he watched her face closely, peering round her to look in the mirror before them. She eased herself up and down slowly at first, her fingers delving between her inflamed pink lips to pleasure herself, her eyes on her cunt and the cock upon which she was impaled. Faster now, good that her legs were strong, raising and lowering herself repeatedly, his cock pulsing in her tightening hole, her fingers working herself into sexfrenzy: - Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck... Grunts and moans, and as her cunt squeezed him, a delicious noose. - Fucking jesus... She collapsed back on him, drained. He licked her neck, felt the sweat on her tits as he stroked there: - I love you Melanie. Love you as I've never loved before. All of you, the wanton and the wise, man-eater and mother. - As I love my walking thesaurus sweetness. Now... she cocked her head -- there's someone at the door... The lock rattled and a woman's voice sounded: - Y'all right in there? - Yes, sorry, I'm fine, just took a funny turn, but my man's looking after me. Give me a couple of minutes. Sorry to keep you waiting. - Okay honey, it's just, I'm a nurse, so if you need help... Sandy thought quickly. That was all they needed: - It's okay thanks, I'm a nurse too. He wiped Melanie down with the panties from his pocket, and they scrambled into their clothes. The place stank of sex. The prim schoolmarmish woman looked askance at them as they left. When they were in the next carriage, Melanie whispered to him: - Well, she knows for sure. And do you know something darling? - Mmm, what? - I don't give a fuck. I've had my first trainsex. He slapped her bum playfully as they returned to their seats. They were both relieved to see the woman leave the train at Campbeltown. Went to the bar for coffee and cake, and were in Sydney Central just after eleven. Melanie steered him through Chinatown to the hotel on the west side of Darling Harbour. He was glad that she wasn't one for taxis: walking's the only way to get to know a city. As she sank naked on the bed he said: - Did I ever tell you that I love you darling? - Come here, I didn't hear that properly. - Oh no, you don't need more? - Just need to be with you my sweet. Unclothe yourself. Journey into Melanie's Reality Ch. 03 ***** They ordered sandwiches, a half-bottle of Moet, and coffee from room-service. It was the first time he'd ever used such a thing; his Australian publisher was paying, so why not? Finishing the last of his coffee, he said: - So darling, we have the afternoon free, then a boring reception this evening. What d'you want to do with the next few hours? - Apart from sex, you mean? - Sweetheart, you know perfectly well that I need recovery time. I'm not as young as you are, and it so happens I'm male. - Ohh, shame. But master, maybe I need you? - When you use that term with me, you define yourself as my sub. Your needs can wait. This is a world city, and we only have a couple of days in it. This afternoon you're my tourguide. Tonight you're my sub. - Is that so? OK, I'm your sub tourguide this afternoon. But don't assume I'll be your sub anything this evening. - I want a slutty tourguide. Dress accordingly. - You sure master? She selected some clothes from her case and disappeared into the bathroom. He gasped when she emerged. He'd been half-kidding when he said he wanted her slutty. He had no idea she had clothes or makeup like that. - Will this do master? She pirouetted and the short skirt flared to reveal her nakedness beneath. Under the sparse frilly top she wore no bra; her nipples pouting through the cotton. Black fishnet thighhighs, heels. Bright red lipstick and mascara completed the picture. The vision of a streetgirl seeking business. He'd had no idea... restrained his comments, adopted dom mode: - You'll do. But can you walk in those things? - This girl prefers to be taken by taxi. To the cruiseboat. I'm feeling lazy today master. And my cunt is soaking. Lick it. Taste. She raised the skirt as he knelt before her. Some sub this. He lapped, smelled her need: - On your back, on the bed. You deserve to cum my sweetness. He ate her out hungrily, till she was writhing under him: - Fingers master. In your sub's arse. His fingers plundered her there as he laved her cunt in mouthworship. She heaved and ignited under him suddenly, his face drenched with her fluids. He licked her dry: - Now let's go. They were both scented with her sex. She gave instructions to the taxi-driver waiting outside the hotel and sat demurely in the back, legs tightly together: - You go in the front darling, you'll get a better view. - Not of you I won't... - You're a tourist, remember? You'll see all you want of me later. He sat in front. Noticed the driver paying a lot of attention to his rearview mirror; didn't dare glance behind him. They were at a line of cruiseboats in five minutes, on the east side of the Harbour. The driver refused a tip: - Yer sheila's all the tip I need mate. G'day. He wondered, but said nothing as his lover drew him toward a floating palace, where they found an open top deck seat in the bow. He'd learned his lesson; applied suncream liberally. - Oh darling, you don't think I might burn you? His oiled hand slithered up her thigh, into wet cunt: - I'm learning that you have many abilities darling, but I don't think you can do that. Coffee or wine? - Um, we're going to a reception in three hours love. It'd better be coffee. And, as he rose to go for it -- for you too? - Yes sweet. When he returned with two coffees and a daft mock-nautical cap, there was a man sitting beside her. She shooed him away as he glanced into Sandy's distinctly unsmiling eyes. He turned to her: - Who's your new friend? - He offered to help me apply the suncream. I turned him down darling. Oh, is that hat for me? Christ, she was like a wee lassie sometimes. He adjusted the cap to a cocky angle on her, and as the boat moved into the harbour, she snuggled into him: - My sweet Sandyman. How I love being with you. We're a real couple at last. He pulled her tightly to him, possessive. The boat surged east under the bridge, and he moved to concentrate on photographs: bridge, city skyline, Opera House; tourist stuff. God he loved being with her. Told her so. She pointed out landmarks: she'd been a student in Sydney and knew it well. She understood his interests. There were a lot of photos by the time the boat returned to its berth. Back at the hotel they had an hour before the reception began. - I need to shower and tart myself up for my performance darling. This is the first time I've ever attended a reception in my honour. My Scottish publisher didn't do one for me. Um, and maybe you should get into something more... demure and literary? You're going to get a lot of attention love. I hope you've brought a few volumes of your poetry with you? She slapped his face playfully: - Dillbrain! Course I have. I'm not going to bask in your reflected glory all evening. ***** Heads turned when they entered the reception, Melanie in a breathtaking evening gown, Sandy in full Highland dress. But without a tie, so his chain was on view. He wanted it to be unmistakable that they were a couple, in their first formal public appearance together. There were maybe thirty folk in the room. A short slightly plump woman strode purposefully towards them as they hovered uncertainly at the door: - Hi, I'm Karen, your Australian publisher. You have to be Sandy? And this is... - My partner Melanie. A poet. Good to meet you Karen. What's the drill this evening? - I introduce you to the gathering... she glanced at Melanie with a smile -- both of you. You say a few words. We eat and drink. Then we get down to business. You do your reading, and field questions. You've excited a bit of interest: we have respected critics here from a good range of the media. Opinion-formers. Then we mingle till the booze runs out. You know journalists! - Hey... careful what you say here! I'm a journalist as well as a poet. Melanie was smiling, but her voice had been careful, controlled. Karen moved back a fraction, hand on chin, head cocked quizzically: - Melanie who? You didn't say. She told Karen as Sandy drew a slim volume and a pen from his briefcase, passed them to Melanie. She scribbled something on the fly-leaf, and handed the book to Karen, whose eyes were widening: - Yess... you won a prize, I remember now. Paris, wasn't it? Thank you so much for this, I haven't read you yet. Karen kissed her. Melanie blushed at the recognition. And the contact: - It was such a shock winning the award. But the real prize was that we met there. She took Sandy's hand. - I'll chat to you later Melanie, introduce you to some people. I know how lonely it is being a poet. But we must get on with the show. Would you both step over here please? There was a low stage in the corner, with table and lectern. Karen introduced Sandy, graciously including Melanie as his partner, mentioning her work. Sandy spoke a few carefully-chosen phrases. The company parted with a patter of polite applause, allowing them first access to the buffet. Plates laden, Karen led them to a large circular table near the centre of the room: - Sorry the budget doesn't stretch to a formal dinner Sandy, you're not in those elevated ranks yet. Maybe next time... Now, I want the two of you to sit apart, so you don't monopolise each other. Sandy smiled at a memory. It was how they'd first met in Paris, at opposite sides of a large circular table for a meal. But this was a much more relaxed affair. The seats beside Sandy were soon taken: an older academic-looking man, and an over-perfumed and under-dressed young woman. He watched as Karen guided a man and woman to sit either side of his lover. Suspected they were carefully chosen. Perfume monopolised his attention over the meal. Academic was literary editor for the Sydney Morning Herald, and seemed content to wait his turn. The gushing woman was presenter for a late evening TV talk-show. By the end of the meal, with too much wine in her, she'd pinned Sandy down to dinner before an appearance on the show the following evening: - You MUST wear this sexy outfit Sandy! She stroked the kilt over Sandy's thigh and kissed his mouth, not lightly, before rushing off to prepare for that night's show. Academic turned to him: - Well, you made an impression on her! Congratulations. She's a bit of a celeb. Lots of folk would give their eye-teeth to get on that show; it has huge viewing figures. But don't imagine she's a dill-brain. She's a very sharp young woman, and has embarrassed more than one of her guests before live cameras. Be careful. - Thanks for the tip, I'll ca canny. - Sorry? - Uh, Scots. It means take care. - Thanks. I love the diversity of language! - Yes indeed, I've learned a wee bit since I got here. - How long're you in town? I want to interview you, lots of interest in Scotland here, and I really like your novel. Munching cheese and crackers, Sandy agreed to be interviewed the next morning in Academic's office. He would be photographed: Sandy should wear the kilt. The man shook his hand and left. By now the table was near-empty, and Melanie was engrossed in discussion with Karen and the man who'd sat beside her for the meal. The wine on the table was finished and he'd been careful, had taken a glass of water for each of wine. He still had to read. He fetched a whisky from the bar, went onto the balcony. Rolled and lit a fag, content that the evening had been both pleasant and productive so far. Looked over Darling Harbour, glass and steel blocks east of the water catching the sunset. He liked what little he'd seen of this city, an architectural melange from colonial Georgian and Victorian to self-confident modernity. Total contrast with Canberra, almost provincially reserved despite the trappings of a capital. He liked the Australians he'd met too, open and friendly. He scented her before her hand fell on his arm. - Thought you'd be here. Where's your briefcase, I need a couple of my books? - Oh my love, how's your evening been? Um, your books are here. How many d'you need? She smiled entrancingly, kissed him: - Both pleasant and useful darling. Maybe four? Karen appeared after he handed Melanie the books: - Cmon star, you're on now. He'd done a few readings, knew exactly which short chapter caught the essence of the novel. His reading was modulated, clearly Scots-accented, and he glanced at the audience over his specs between sentences. Noticed Melanie was still beside the man from the table. The applause when he sat was warm. Most of the questions were intelligent and friendly, and Karen had to intervene to bring the formal proceedings to a halt: - Sorry folks, time's running out. Sandy's agreed to stick around till the bar's finished, if you want to talk to him. Melanie waved him over, introduced him to the man with whom she'd been talking: - Darling, this is Steve Hanlon from the Australian Literary Review. He wants to talk to you. And... her grin was as wide as he'd ever seen it -- he's interviewing me tomorrow for an article on my work! ***** It took an hour before the last guest left the room, leaving Karen, Melanie and Sandy. He turned to his publisher: - Karen, thank you for a wonderful evening. Apart from anything else which might come of it, I have three newspaper and two radio interviews, as well as a television show. It feels like a very successful launch to me. It can't hurt our sales... Melanie interrupted: - And my thanks too Karen. I've an interview with the ALR from your kindness and care. Imagine, the ALR! - Hey you two! It doesn't matter how hard I work unless I have quality material. They loved you Sandy; it was all my pleasure. You were charming and professional: a winning combination. The kilt was inspired! And I hoped that you might interest Steve, Melanie. He's a fine critic. But it doesn't hurt that you're an attractive woman. He has a bit of a name, though. Take care with the interview... Sandy thought carefully. He was desperate to be alone with his lover. But Karen had been the consummate professional: they'd both warmed to her as a person, and she was a key figure in his literary future. He looked at his lover, inclined his head to Karen, eyebrow raised. Melanie nodded: - Karen, now that business is done, we'd like you to join us in our room for champagne. The woman glanced at her watch, looked at Melanie: - I'd love to. If you're sure...? Melanie took her hand: - Please do, for both of us Karen. You've been a great help to me as well as to Sandy this evening. But excuse me, I'm bursting. A giggle - way too much wine... Karen watched her arse as she headed to the toilets, turned and touched Sandy's arm. Looked up at him smiling: - You lucky man. She's gorgeous. Now that she's gone, maybe you could thank me properly... There was no mistaking her meaning. He didn't hesitate: who knew when he'd need this woman's help? - Thank you properly, my delightful publisher... She gasped at the sexual intent of his kiss. Jesus, properly indeed. Was still breathing heavily when Melanie's hand found hers. Sandy went to the desk to order champagne. - I'm guessing that he kissed you? Karen blushed even pinker: - Um, sorry, did sort of ask for it... Melanie's laughter pealed: - As long as I get to kiss you later too. They followed the porter carrying the bottle of Moet to the room. Inside, Sandy drew his lover to him, embraced her ardently, knowing Karen was looking. Shrugged off jacket and wescot: - I know they look good, but you've no idea how uncomfortable they are. Now scuse me... He disappeared into the toilet. Karen stood diffidently. Melanie's arms went round the publisher: - My turn now... Sandy's cock was tumescent as he peed. He and Melanie had discussed threesomes endlessly, but never experienced one together. He couldn't pretend Karen didn't interest him, a warm attractive woman. But their relationship had to remain professional. He wasn't surprised to find the women locked in embrace when he entered the bedroom. He was surprised at his excitement: - Champagne, anyone? - Not too much for you sweetheart. You know I need this... Melanie's fingers stroked his kilt -- very soon. They sipped bubbly, a slightly uncertain silence. Melanie touched Karen's arm: - So, you know a bit about us. Who's this lovely publisher we've found? By the end of the bottle they knew a great deal about Karen. She rose unsteadily: - Umm. I really mustn't outstay my welcome. Much... she giggled -- as part of me'd like to. Thank you for a lovely evening Melanie, glad it's helped you along. I look forward to learning you from your poetry... she kissed Melanie warmly, turned to Sandy -- And thank you too... She was surprised at the ferocity of his embrace, in front of his partner. Returned it, churning in her guts at the unexpected way the evening had transpired. - Really must go now. I'll see myself out. Goodnight. They didn't speak of Karen. Didn't have to as they hurriedly undressed each other. No preliminaries... fell naked on the bed, desperate to fuck. She felt the insistence of his rod, opened to him. Slow and languorous, twined in love, arcing and twisting together, Karen a new spice between them, his cock throbbing its way into her soul, god she loved this man, needed more, gasped: - Arse now. Fuck my arse. He knelt back to look at his lover. Deliciously splayed wantonness. Lifted her knees over his shoulders. Plunged in, eyes on hers, watching her eyeballs roll up, the beauty of his mate, their feral need, taking her harder, mouth on pointy nipples now, enveloping focus of purefuck, his darling, his woman... he felt her convulsions, cock sphincter-strangled, now oh jesus... now. Journey into Melanie's Reality Ch. 04 Author's note: Melanie and Sandy are in Sydney, and this is what happened after the reception to launch the Australian edition of his novel. If you haven't read the previous three chapters, it will help if you do so. I'm delighted that I can now continue this. Sorry, readers, for the long interlude between chapters: life's like that sometimes. My thanks to my beloved partner and muse for her inspiration and assistance, and to raconteuse, whose professional editing has made this infinitely more readable. ***** Her hand gently shaking his shoulder woke him eventually: -Hey sleepyhead, here's your tea. This is our day, so you're not allowed to lie in. I know you got very pissed last night; you woke me when you staggered in. How was the TV show... and the party afterwards? -Ohhhh... Good morning darling. My head's not too great now. I'll tell you presently. There are painkillers in my case.... please? -Hope that doesn't mean you need time to make up a story love? She placed the pills beside his tea, kissed him. Recoiled from his breath. His mouth tasted like a sewer, so he knew how he must smell: -No sweetness, no story to make up. Sorry I'm in this state. -Mmm. Might help if you brushed your teeth and used mouthwash. I need to shower. He gulped painkillers and tea, staggered to the bathroom as Melanie entered the shower: -Need your back attended to darling? -Just clean your mouth out, you disgusting man... She looked at him fondly: -You're not coming near me till you do. She was singing in the shower as he gulped the best part of a litre of bottled water. She emerged as he entered the bathroom: -You need your shower now. And it's late. I don't want to miss breakfast, however you feel, so get a move on. Fifteen minutes later he was showered and shaved, and they were sitting at their table overlooking Darling Harbour. No sunshine today, an unrelenting mass of grey in the sky moving slowly landward from the Pacific. -So my silly drunken man, you ready to tell me about your day, and evening? -You know it was pretty busy love. Three newspaper interviews, two radio slots, and of course the dinner and TV show in the evening... He related the details over an unhurried breakfast. Including the drunken party after the TV show. -And Ms Tellyfloozy didn't make a move on you? In light of her behaviour at the reception, I thought she would. I was a bit worried about it actually; you're anyone's with a drink in you... She squeezed his hand affectionately. -Um, well... she made it obvious that she was... available. I made it clear, politely I hope, that I wasn't going there. Ended up getting pissed with a couple of technicians who were strong union guys, so we had lots to exchange. It was fun, though I'm paying for it this morning. How was your day love? I noticed you dressed rather... alluringly... for your interview with Steve from the Australian Literary Review? A broad grin creased her face: -Um, yes, I did, rather. Karen told me it might help my interview, just how the guy's wired. A girl needs to do something to sell obscure poetry. It didn't seem to do any harm... in fact he invited me to dinner last night, and I accepted. He was charming and very knowledgeable about contemporary poetry and much else, so I had an entertaining evening. He made it apparent he was... interested in me. I told him outright I wasn't going to have sex with him, and after that awkwardness was out of the road, the evening went well. I went shopping in the afternoon; not so often I have free time in the big city. Now sweetness, I have something planned for our day, if your hangover, and your libido, can cope? His brows rose. She didn't usually spring surprises on him: -Darling mine, I can cope with whatever you want to do. So what's the agenda? -I want to show you something of my Sydney love. Where I studied and lived as a student here... maybe – her eyes went to the louring sky outside – my favourite beach. I'll show you the tourist stuff before we get the train home tomorrow. But today is a slice of my personal history. That OK? His eyes sparkled: -Yes sweetness, I'd like that very much. Always want to know more of you... and I dragged you through some of my history in Glasgow, so fair's fair. So she took him round parts of the University of Sydney. He was entranced, imagining her as an eager teenage undergraduate. His arm was round her waist, hand slipping to her beautiful bum frequently. She stopped outside a student residence, pointed upwards: -That room there, third window from the end, is where I um... had my first fuck. His cock, tumescent all morning, went rigid. He visualised her innocent cunt, accepting cock for the first time, went weak at the thought... She read him perfectly. Her hand went to the groin of his jeans: -Bet you wish you could have been my first darling? Her breathing betrayed her own excitement. His hand slid up her thigh, under the short leather skirt. Felt wetness on the silk between her legs. They massaged each other gently. Both were panting: -No my beautiful woman. I love that we can enjoy each others' sexuality fully now. That we both benefit from our experiences with other lovers, in the past. We're who we are darling, and it's a long time since either of us were virgins. Thank goodness. But I want you now. Maybe we could nip back to the hotel for a quickie? -Hmm... tempting... But no, that's not on the agenda. Time to move somewhere else. Lunch first though, I'm hungry again... for food. Her hand left his groin, grasped his arm firmly: -This way... They ate at a Korean place on the edge of Chinatown, in the shadow of the overhead monorail. Melanie ate enthusiastically; Sandy's appetite still suffered from his previous night's drinking. He didn't know how she could eat so much and still remain lithe and fit – well, he did: she burned it up with her enthusiasm for life. Rain pattered on the awning, and she looked at the clouds, face scrunched in thought: -Looks like it might be damp on my beach darling, but we have rainjackets in the rucsac. You up for a visit to the seaside? -Bondi Beach? You know I want to learn you. Yes, sure... Her laughter raised heads around them: -Dillbrain! Certainly not Bondi Beach. My private beach, quiet and secluded, off the tourist trail. You should know me better by now. Would you get the bill sweetness? Time to move. ***** They left the train half-an-hour later, wandered nondescript suburban streets. Then there was a wee band of parkland, rolling grey Pacific surf beyond. The rain started, and they made a dash for a picnic table under a huge umbrella. There were no other humans in sight. They stood gazing east at the eternity of ocean, the next landfall thousands of miles away in Chile. His hand went to her arse, slid up under her skirt. Underneath it she was naked, and his fingers stroked between her wet labia: -So. My darling's in dirtygirl mode now? -I... took them off in the train toilet. Knew we didn't need them... She was panting. Stroked the bulge in his jeans: -We need to fuck here. Not right here, too public, don't want to get arrested. But somewhere near. Soon. Need your cock in me darling. Yes, I'm your dirtygirl now. He held her face, gazed in her beautiful limpid brown eyes, hooded now with lust: -So come on dirtygirl, let's find our fuckspot. Normally on a strange beach he would have been clutching birdbook and binoculars. Now he couldn't even think. His hand was under her skirt, probing her naked arse. Nothing in his head at all. Lust, the need to fuck his woman, consumed him. They crossed the mouth of a stream spilling onto the beach, a smirr of rain dampening their bodies but not their ardour. He pointed to a carpet of scrub just above the high-water mark. Stroked her arse again. Felt her oozing sexjuice: -In there darling, that'll do... She ran towards an opening in the bushes, pushed through. A few yards in was a small clearing, some grass pushing through the sand. Condom foils and empty beercans, picnic litter. She turned as he caught up with her: -This is suitably sordid for a dirtyfuck darling. Want this hot cunt? She raised her short skirt, pouted her wet sex at him. He almost knocked her over as he grabbed her, a turmoil of need. Began lowering her to the ground... -My dirty sexman, a practical matter. I don't want sand in my cunt - she smiled lewdly – and neither do you... Panting, he drew his goretex jacket from the rucsac. Bowed elaborately as he spread it over the most even bit of the clearing, kicking litter away. Grunted as he removed his trainers, and wriggled out of his jeans: -Our fuckmat, dirtygirl. Still standing, her gaping cunt remained presented to him, her legs apart: -Slap your cunt, master. -Oh jesus... His cock rampant, his hand slapped her wetness and he watched her eyes turning up: -More, slap it harder. Your cunt... He watched in awe as her beloved face contorted to the blows. One arm went round her for support, as the other swung with loving precision. On the final slap she shuddered and went limp on him, her head falling back, only the whites of her eyes showing. Jesus, what intense sexuality. He loved everything about her, but this was something new. He gasped, hoarse with lust: -The position dirtygirl, now. Have to take you. She crouched in submission, arse high on her strong legs, cunt and anus gaping: -Dirtygirl needs master's fuck... -Oh jesus darling... She grunted as his cock slithered into her wetness, the intensity overwhelming. Just cock in cunt, every part of their beings poured into this sexplay. The friction of overwhelming need. Her hand a blur at her clit as he pounded her, all her forward weight on one hand. She shuddered unsteadily under the pressure of his fucking and eventually her arm gave out and she collapsed forward in orgasm, his cock held in place by the excruciating tightness of her explosion: -Jesus dirtyman, arse now, fuck my arse... He grabbed her hair and pushed himself into her spasming darkness, her head wrenched up above the debris of condom residue and empty cans. It was raining hard now, wet splodges pockmarking the dirty sand, but neither noticed in the transport of their lust. He fucked her brutally, his fingers round her throat as his scrotum tightened: -Now dirtygirl, now. Take master's spunk up your arse... His fingers tightened round her throat and he sank in her a last time. Her screams rose from the sordid place, high over his feral grunting, and their sexneed released, explosion of beautiful reciprocation. His spent form collapsed on her trembling body. Soaked with sweat and rain and sex, they lay united in spent lust as the rain drummed on them, as incessant as their need had been a few minutes previously. He lifted her hair, kissed the nape of her beautiful neck: -Thank you for showing me your beach darling. I suppose you fucked here a few times, when you lived here? Her movements told him she wanted to rise. He drew back and his softening cock slithered from the clutches of her arse. She twisted up and round, knelt before him, her eyes burning in his: -No my love, never. I always came here when I wanted to be alone. It's our beach now. Always will be. Our fuckbeach. Our special loving place. ***** An hour later, still wet despite the efficiency of the heaters in the train, they were in the shower in their hotel room, lovingly washing each other. They hadn't spoken of what had happened in their sordid sexnest above the beach. They dried each other in silence, between languorous kisses. She glanced at the clock when they padded back to the bedroom: -Darling, it's five o'clock. D'you want to cancel our dinner with Karen? -No sweetness, we both owe her a lot, and she's lovely company. But... I'm not sure we should have anything more than dinner with her. I'm sure she's up for a threesome, and part of me would like that, but today... it just wouldn't feel right. -Hmm – stroking his tumescent cock – I know what part of you would relish playing with her, with both of us. And part of me wants it too... She took his hand and placed it in her damp groin. -... but maybe you're correct. Not tonight. Perhaps next time we're in Sydney, before your flight home? It's early morning, so we'll have to overnight in the city anyway? So maybe it would be best if we eat in a restaurant, not here. Just to keep temptation out of our road? -Mmm, aye, that makes sense. With a couple of drinks in you, you'd be dragging her into our room, whatever your intentions now... -Is that right? Look who's talking... god I adore you... And they collapsed into a languid kiss, still naked. She pressed her need on his thigh, but he pushed her away: -Darling, after the beach I don't have anything left for you... -But you have fingers. Use them. Now. Must have it. He laid her gently on the bed, hair still wet from the shower, and their mouths closed as his hand reached her thighs. Stroked lovingly. Moved inch-by-inch nearer her need, deliberately teasing. Smelled her now as she spread her legs wider. Glided over her hairless mons, carefully avoiding the seeping wetness below it. But he couldn't maintain the tease, never could for very long. Plunged two fingers into her, curling and seeking her urgency, as his lips sought a hard nipple. She was panting now: -Oh sweetness, how I adore you... more, harder... His fingers twisted and clawed in her, short nails digging into the spongewall as his teeth tugged the aching protrusion of her teat. She groaned: -Oh sweetgod... I belong to you darling... As the tremors engulfed her, her orgasm squirted and his fingers were trapped by greedy cuntmuscles. He watched the face he loved, the woman he'd travelled ten thousand miles to be with. Kissed her gently, withdrew his wet hand from her: -Well darling, now that you're feeling better, maybe it's time to phone our dinner-date... He watched as she pushed the buttons. Listened as well as he could to the dialogue. She put the phone down, glanced at the time, smiled: -We've two hours before we meet her. She's chosen a good Lebanese place about a mile away. D'you think that's far enough from temptation? He nodded in agreement. Her face tightened a fraction: -But now, darling mine, before we meet her, we need to talk. She took his hands, looked deep in his eyes: -Why don't you want to fuck her? You've always been up for willing cunt, even since we met, and fell irrevocably in love... -Sweetness, I... -Hud yer wheesht love, isn't that what you say? I want to know, after your infidelities to me, and our fantasies about threesomes of both kinds, why you're going to turn her down now? The first real likelihood of a threesome we've ever had. I bet she's soaking at the thought of what she hopes will happen tonight. I must admit the possibility excites me. I'm game if you are...so... if you want to change your mind... She watched the pain in his face, the moment of indecision. Almost hoped he'd give in: it had been a long time since she'd been with a woman, and the memory of Karen's body next to hers, two nights previously, was powerful. She wriggled her hips at the thought. Then his face set again, determined: -No love, I'm not changing my mind. If you want sex with her, that's fine. I'd... um... love to watch you with her actually. But not participate. Not with Karen anyway. -Why not? -Darling mine, because no matter what we've discussed and fantasised, and however the thought excites me... -Of course it does dillbrain, I know who you are... -Aye, course it does. But I'm not going there. We're building our love in the reality of your life my sweet. Right now it would be wrong, for me at least, to have someone else... intervene. Maybe when we're a bit further down the road, more secure with each other... but not now. Don't want anyone else in my life now, in any way. But don't let me get in your road if you want to play. I know you haven't been with a woman in a long time. Karen is very sweet. And she's obviously interested in you. As any sexual being would be... Melanie shivered as his fingers teased her breast: -Darling, you still haven't really explained. Please? She watched a brief look of irritation flash across the face she loved. Something she had rarely seen. His jaw clenched. His voice was cold, hard: -Jesus darling... He paused, brow wrinkled: -I just don't want sex with Karen tonight. You have permission to do what you want with her. With anyone: I've always told you that. But I don't want her. Not tonight. Besides, she's my publisher here. - his face broke into a smile – It would hardly be professional conduct to fuck her, now would it? But... she's not your publisher... -So you'd fuck her if she wasn't your publisher? -I turned down Msfloozy last night, didn't I? -Um, well, so you told me... There was anger in his voice now: -Melanie, I know I've told you lies in the past, online... when I couldn't admit to myself, let alone you, that I'd... strayed. But you know perfectly well that I can't look you in the face and lie to you. - His eyes pierced hers, and she knew the truth - I DID NOT fuck that woman last night. I WILL NOT fuck Karen tonight. Got that? Now, can we get dressed and find a decent coffee before we meet her? She was a bit shaken by his intensity. Then she giggled, and all was well between them: -Um, sweetness... d'you think I should shower the sexstink from me? Or dress as I am? His full smile, the glow in his eyes: -Darling, I think you should do as you please. Not for me to advise you on this... She hesitated for a few moments. Rose and dried her long hair. Started dressing. Provocatively. He thought he knew what that meant as he selected a suit, formal shirt. And the Frank Lloyd Wright silk tie she'd given him. He wanted to be cool and professional, whatever her intentions. They brushed each other down once both were dressed. She whispered: -You mentioned coffee? And maybe I need a drink too... a good stiff one. His fingers slipped under her short skirt, hooked over her groin: -Well. We'd better find what you need then. ***** The cafe-bar was, Melanie said, just down the road from their venue with Karen. He glanced around as they entered it. The street was full of middle-eastern restaurants, but this place had a mild Irish feel. Not the blatant fake-Irish of theme bars. It felt right. He ordered her latte and a cappuccino for himself... -and two double Bushmills please. No ice, but a wee jug of water. With two half-pints of Murphy's. Both looked round the place, unspeaking, whilst they waited for the order. A lassie in the corner was singing 'She moved through the fair' to a haunting fiddle accompaniment. Sandy smiled at his lover: -You picked a good place sweetheart. -When have I ever failed you, darling? He dribbled water in their whiskeys, raised his glass to his woman: -Slainthe, darling. To an enjoyable evening, at the end of a remarkable day... The glasses kissed. She whispered: -I love you my sweet. They chatted inconsequentially, sipping coffee and drinks. She glanced at her watch as they drained the stout: -Um, five minutes till we meet her, love. Best not be late, eh? They were seated at a window table, glowing in a sunset the clouds had finally revealed. Melanie glanced round and gasped. His eyes followed hers: -Jesus. Christ, is that her? The vision in a short diaphanous white dress edged towards them between crowded tables. There was no evidence of lingerie beneath it, garter belt apart. His cock stiffened, earlier resolve faltering. Melanie rose first to greet Karen with a close embrace, a long deep kiss. He noted his lover's fingers on the woman's breasts as the two parted, breathing heavily. Then it was his turn. Journey into Melanie's Reality Ch. 04 He knew what he had to do. Clasped Karen loosely at waist and shoulder. Kissed her soft wanting mouth, his lips barely parted. Moved back from her, eyes appraising: -So glad you could find time for us Karen. We wanted to thank you, you've been such a wonderful help to both of us. Her eyes held surprise and uncertainty at his formality. Quite unlike the lustful passion of his embraces when they'd parted the last time. But he was sober now. He drew a seat out for her. She was at the side of the table, between Melanie and Sandy. He noted that she made no attempt to pull the brief dress over her thighs as she sat. Stocking tops, garter belt... He watched Melanie's eyes glaze slightly as she inspected the thighs, carelessly parted. His resolve faltered again, momentarily. Christ, this lovely new friend was looking for sex tonight. She wouldn't get it from him though. Karen smiled: -So, how've you been? I've been thinking about you since we met. Both of you... Melanie summarised their past couple of days for her, omitting the beachfuck: -... and you've been in our thoughts too Karen. Um, quite a lot... There was a pause as the waiter took their orders, returned quickly with the carafe of wine they'd chosen, and poured for them. No nonsense about pouring a drop for someone to nose and taste. Sandy's heart warmed to the place. As glasses rose from the table, Karen breathed: -Well, cheers. Here's to a lovely evening together, and the beginning of new friendships. She grinned at them: -The tradition in this place is that you down the first glass in one – and she did so. The couple followed suit, though Melanie spluttered a wee bit as she drained her wine. Karen refilled the glasses, and conversation was limited as they ate. Sandy sipped occasionally at his wine, but the women had finished another refill before they pushed their plates away. It was obvious what Karen wanted from the evening, but Melanie had become inscrutable. He sat back quietly, watching and listening to the banter between them. Wondered briefly at the wisdom of his decision, as he saw his partner's hand on Karen's thigh. His cock twitched. But NO. He'd decided, and he was sticking to his decision – and the promise to his woman. He knew he could relax now, ordered another litre of wine. Filled his glass as well as theirs this time. The carafe was almost empty as they finished their cloying sweets, ordered arak with their coffee. As he sipped, he watched Karen's hand move up his lover's thigh, under the short skirt she'd chosen to wear. When the cups and glasses before them were finally empty, Karen spoke in a slightly slurred voice: -Well my friends. The night's yet young, and I know an interesting club nearby. You up for some dancing? There's a live band. They mostly do covers of classic rock... probably right for a pair of oldies? -Hey, less of that, young woman... The playful slap left a red mark on Karen's thigh as Melanie giggled: -Oh yes, last night in Sydney, I'm up for clubbing. You, darling? -Aye, I'm good for a wee bit yet. Show us the way Karen... The club wasn't very busy. They settled at the bar, watching the musicians. At the first unmistakeable chords of 'Brown Sugar', Karen's hand touched Sandy's, her brows raised as she nodded to the floor. -Nope, sorry Karen, I just don't have the energy to do that one justice... I had less sleep last night than either of you, I'm sure. And I'm not getting any younger. I'll sit it out, thanks. But Melanie had risen, taken Karen's arm: -We'll just have to remind the oldie how it's done then... He watched their scantly-clad arses wiggle, deliberately he knew, as they hit the dancefloor. The pair exploded into movement, almost never touching in their gyrations, but with sensual intent in every muscle. He'd never seen his partner in any way sexually with a woman. His erection was firm by the time they returned to their seats, both of them flushed and dripping sweat. Melanie's voice was a throaty whisper as she looked in Karen's eyes, leaned in to kiss her mouth: -Wow, can you dance woman... Sandy felt distinctly de trop. He coughed: -Um, look, I'm getting really tired. Need my bed. You two stay as long as you want... Melanie's face fell a little, but she knew he was indeed exhausted. -OK sweet, get yourself some sleep. We've a busy day tomorrow. She stood and hugged him close, thrusting her belly into his erection: -And no wanking. I'll really need some of this later... Karen giggled, stood and hugged him. He knew he could let go now, held her tight to his hardness, kissed her passionately, his fingers stroking up her thighs to her naked cunt. She was soaking. He turned to his partner, sucking his fingers: -I love you forever darling. Goodnight to you both. Journey into Melanie's Reality Ch. 05 Author's note: As with all chapter stories, it will help you to follow this if you read the previous chapters, though it might work as a standalone. My thanks to my muse, without whom this wouldn't have been written; to raconteuse for her most competent editing, and to my readers for their continuing support, and encouraging posts and emails. I hope you all enjoy this. The sixth and final chapter is being edited, and will be posted as soon as it's ready. ***** He wondered about the evening as he walked back to the hotel. To his surprise, he wasn't in the slightest bit jealous of Melanie. Knew he would've been if he'd left her with an attractive man though. Probably couldn't have done that. He examined the rationale of her near-encouragement for him to fuck Karen, and could only conclude that it was an edge of her masochism. How would she have really felt, watching his cock sink into Karen? He was very glad he hadn't accepted his publisher's invitation to sex. For once, he was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. Sexscent intruded on his forgotten dream. His eyes flickered open. Focused on wet cunt hovering over his face. Melanie. His arms moved, drew her into contact with his mouth. Lapped and suckled, adoring her, her need, her everything... She bucked and twisted on his face, wanking her clit on his nose, hard. His beard was sodden with her orgasm. She squirmed off him, wriggled into his arms, wet crotch on his thigh. He glanced at the clock; two-thirty am: -So my love, a pleasant evening? Her lashes fluttered at him, almost coy: -Very pleasant darling. She's a remarkable woman. Perhaps a new friend, though I'm not sure about that.... -And lover, mayhap? He knew he shouldn't have asked so blatantly, couldn't help himself. She'd tell him everything in her own time: -Sorry sweet, I shouldn't have asked... -Dill! I know your curiosity is raging... the answer's... sort of. -A sort-of lover? What's that when it's at home darling? -Um, well, she invited me to her place... seems she lives near where we were. I turned her down, not because I didn't want her, but because I didn't want you waking alone. So she asked if she could come back here. I thought about that, very carefully... but said no. If she'd come here you wouldn't have been able to resist her, and you'd decided, determined, not to have sex with her. I didn't trust her not to tempt you... and knew you would succumb if she did. Christ, I wanted her, though... He feathered the fine down in the small of her back: -You still haven't explained sort-of lover? -Um. We were both desperate... we got each other off, just fingers, in the toilet... jesus, so deliciously dirty... never in my life done that before... a fitting aftermath to our beachfuck. -Never had sex in a toilet darling? What about our trainfuck? Or had you forgotten that in your excitement... -No love, hadn't forgotten. How could I? But this was different. By the time we wanked each other I'd realised I didn't like her very much. That I was driven by pure sexual excitement... and need. I'm amazed you could resist her when she was yours to take. Her mouth closed on his, long and wanting. Her hips moved against his thigh. He licked her eyes, her brow: -How interesting. Maybe next time we meet her, my resolve will waver... she's certainly a bundle of unbridled lust. I was close to orgasm just watching you dance with her. She pushed him gently from her face, her liquid brown eyes in his: -Darling, there won't be a next time. Well, not on this trip. She's on holiday when you leave Sydney. Sorry, looks like you missed your chance with her. He knew his face must have fallen, tried to rescue the situation: -Sweetness, you know I want only you... -I know you're a poor liar, sweetness. But now, I need cock. Yours. Lie back. Her tone brooked no refusal... as if he could refuse her. He obeyed. She fucked him. Used him for her own pleasure, as a man might a woman. After her fifth orgasm, she whispered: -Um, and you might have realised I smoked some weed with her... -I'd worked that out by your third. Now, my turn to fuck you. Need to spunk in your cunt. On your back woman. She squirmed onto her back, raised her legs so her sex gaped invitingly: -Will you imagine you're fucking her? He drove into her hard, teeth at her throat. He was angry, at himself, not at his lover. Wasn't sure why. She felt his mood; he rarely treated her as a body to fuck. Sensed the source of his anger too. Realised she wouldn't cum this time. He always made her cum, his love was part of that. She was excited, strangely excited that he could use her in this way. Wanted it for him. She didn't have long to wait as his ravaging became faster, more brutal. Felt the electricity as his balls tightened. Felt him hovering on the edge, for a long time. Then he grunted, and his spunk surged in her: -Jesusfuck, you filthy slut Karen... He collapsed on her. She clasped him tightly as the sobs wracked him, tears wetting her neck and shoulder. After an eternity he moved, struggled to support himself on his elbows as his eyes pierced her bruised soul: -Oh my love. I've never ever used you like that before. I'm sorry... More tears. -Hush love, I'm fine. Let's get some sleep. But she wasn't fine at all. She'd seen a new side of him, and she didn't like it. His breathing told her he was asleep, but her brain was in turmoil every time she shut her eyes. Then she realised: she'd seen a new side of herself too, one that had been dormant for years. The one that, for an evening, had just craved sex with someone new. She'd been able to be like that because of his unconditional love: it released something in her. She was glad he'd restrained himself with Karen. Peace finally overtook her. ***** Morning sunshine saw them walking round Darling Harbour. She suggested the aquarium, but he muttered something about animal rights, so they headed on past the row of tethered cruiseboats, ancient and modern. She guided him inland a bit, cutting off Miller's Point. He hadn't spoken a word since the aquarium. As they faced the long piers of Walsh Bay, she took his arm, drew him to the tables of a quayside cafe: -Spit it out love. This is our last day in Sydney. You will not spoil it for both of us with your self-indulgent moroseness. So get it out of your system now please... She turned smiling as the waitress approached, ordered for them both. Wherever his head was now, his choice of coffee was predictable. Her eyes returned to his. -I'm... I'm so sorry sweetness. I'm drowned in shame. What I did to you last night was unforgiveable. It might have been better if I'd been honest and given in to my lust. Accepted her invitation and fucked her. That way, at least I wouldn't have treated you as... well, as just a body to spunk in. I've never used you that way before. Hope I never do again. -Darling mine. My poor man. Look, it was a strange evening, and with the wisdom of hindsight it was always going to be. I behaved completely out of character too... well, the character I thought I'd become. When she and I wanked each other in the toilet of the club... and in all that passed between us before that point... I was a woman my memory barely recognised, but who had existed in my body a long time ago. When you used me last night, you became for a few minutes the old irresponsible, promiscuous you. The one you thought had disappeared. Sweetness, we need to know all of each other. Last night was part of that process. That's all. Je ne regrette rien. Neither should you. I love you more for it sweetness... for your resolve not to use her, and for carrying it through. I never thought you'd manage to resist her. After all – blushing as she giggled – I didn't. I'm proud that you did. Her kiss confirmed it. They sipped coffee and chatted lightly. He slowly returned to something nearer his normal self as they walked, arms around each other's waists. Paused under the harbour bridge whilst he consulted his guidebook: -Ah, look darling, I always thought there must be a connection! -Sweetness, this riddle's lost me. Connection? -Aye, between the Tyne Bridge in Newcastle, and this one. I know this one's much bigger, but it's essentially the same design. They were both built by Dorman Long. The Tyne Bridge opened earlier. Must have been a sort of test run for this one... She chortled: -Well sweet, for once you're not trying to tell me that something Scots was first... -Hell, Newcastle's as near as dammit in Scotland... Still laughing, she clutched him to her: -Glad you're back to your old self again. Now let's move, you must see the Opera House. She spoke in a hushed voice of her research into Australian war veterans as they walked the curve of Circular Quay. The song sprang to his mind and he began singing, low and gentle. She joined on the contralto part: he'd never heard 'The band played Walzing Matilda' in harmony, and her voice was perfect for it. When the song was done he drew her to him, kissed her with all the love he felt, irrepressible: -Darling mine, I'd never thought of it before, but isn't Eric Bogle the perfect link between Scotland and Australia? She pushed him away, smiling: -Um, apart from us you mean? Yes, he's a lovely connection. Now come on, the next tour of the Opera House starts in ten minutes. She drew him past aboriginal musicians, performing and trying to sell CDs and crafts to the throngs of tourists: -I know where we'll find better love, later. Trust me. He was awed by the building as they followed the guide. As awed as he'd ever been by medieval cathedrals in Europe. He couldn't speak, hung onto every word the uniformed man uttered. At the end of the tour he felt dazed, slightly out of this world: -My love, this is truly the most amazing modern building I have ever visited. I'm completely awestruck... -What, better than the Scottish Parliament building? He smiled, said nothing. -We can have lunch here, fancy that? It's a bit pricey, but on our last day in Sydney... my treat, OK? Melanie explained something of the social geography of the city as they ate, a sweeping view of the North Shore across the harbour before them. For once he didn't speak for a long time. It was after one by the time she asked the waiter for the bill. He was horrified, moved to draw the wallet from his bumbag: -Darling, I can't allow you to pay all of that... Her hand stilled him: -I offered to buy you lunch and you agreed. You'll earn it in childcare when we get home, Phil has to leave to attend to the farm for a bit, and I need to get my head into work. So, this is my treat. Please? ***** They wandered up the hill and into the parkland around Government House. She paused in the shade of a huge tree: the sun was blazing: -Maybe we should take it easy for a while love, digest lunch? And time for some suncream, for both of us... She took the towel from the rucsac, stretched herself on the warm grass. Slipped her scant tshirt off as she turned onto her belly: -Do my back and shoulders. Legs. Everywhere. He never for a second tired of the sight of her, of being with her. Watched entranced at the boldness of her self-exposure before he removed his own shirt and knelt beside his beloved, reaching in the rucsac for the cream. Crouched over her, his tumescence on her back through his shorts. Began the slow firm massage she loved, working cream into her skin. She groaned occasionally, her body shuddering with each sound. When he'd done with her shoulders, neck and spine, his fingers moved to her flanks, working scented slitheriness there. Did the backs of her muscled legs, but left her sandalled feet for later. He was panting now, glanced around them. Nobody was near, but his heart was in his mouth as he whispered: -Time to turn over sweetness. Your tits need attention. It was years since she'd done this, exposed her naked breasts in a truly public place. Her groin flooded as she decided, rolled over. Felt the ache in her nipples as they sprang to attention, released from the pressure between her body and the ground. His oily hands moved to work them, all over her breasts, her belly, down to the waistband of her shorts, lingering there, before returning to the elongated grapes of her nipples. She felt her eyes glazing, hooded. He glanced up. An elderly man walking a dog detoured slightly to come closer to them, his eyes wide. Sandy oiled his hands once more, worked on her breasts again, teasing her teats: -There's a guy watching us darling, to your right... She moved her head, saw the harmlessness of the old fellow, smiled at him. He turned away abruptly, calling his dog, his face reddening. She focused on the sensation of her lover's hands on her, sensed the wetness must be seeping through her shorts. Her entire body was twitching now, small movements she knew were arousing her man. She sighed as his hands moved from her breasts, fiddled her sandals off. His mouth on her toes, ohchrist ohchrist... then oiled fingers, probing her soles, manipulating her ankles, sliding up her calves. His hands left her momentarily as Sandy knelt back, glanced around. Only sacred ibis, foraging nearby, no other living being. She felt abandoned for those seconds, before the fingers, the palms, returned, oiling and massaging her thighs now, glazing her senses with their lubricity. She begged him in silence as he eased under her shorts, fingertips stroking gently as they feathered labia unencumbered by underwear. Gasped as they entered her. Then withdrew as quickly as they'd arrived. She opened her eyes, glanced at him, beseeching, but he was just changing position, lying on his side now to protect her from inquisitive eyes, her other side partly shielded by the huge trunk of the gum. Felt his fingers seeking the button and zip. Part-exposing her weeping cunt. She was past caring about anything. Just needed him. Ohsweetmary motherof god... His fingers curling into her... he knew exactly what she needed, this beautiful lover of hers. Felt his eyes burning, flickered her own open. Saw his love as she felt it in her cunt, her need rising, begging fulfilment, ohjesusfuck, felt herself engorging in his adoration, the absolute purity of their lovelust, she felt almost virginal in the beauty of it. His hand moved faster as her eyeballs turned up. Flames ravaged her as she abandoned herself to the joyous inevitability. And it hit her so she clawed the ground frantically, her entire being pressing the long series of squirts from her cunt. He was licking as her hips finally shuddered back to earth. She felt him sliding her shorts down her legs, and off. Then the sound of his zip. Jesus, he was going to fuck her in public... the tensile potency entering her, claiming her, making her his, her hips rising to meet his every tempestuous movement, knowing his love as he groaned his seed in her womb, her muscles spasming around him, taking him as hers. They lay together, sweating heavily, their pungency hardly displaced by the light breeze, till she heard something. Glanced around. Fuck, a drooling Labrador, trotting towards them, a young couple not far behind. She scrambled to pull her shorts on, heart thudding, as Sandy fumbled with his zip. The lab managed a lick on her breast before she had the tshirt on. The couple whistled and it bounded away skittishly. She looked in his face then, a radiance there she'd never quite seen before. Managed to whisper: -Oh sweetheart, how beautiful. She was aware of the inadequacy of her words as she uttered them. Just couldn't get her head into gear to find any better. Was glad of his quietude, his inarticulateness. They lay together for minutes. Silence spoke their love more eloquently than any words. Eventually he looked at his watch: -Darling, it's well after two. What happened to my tour of the sights of Sydney? She smirked lewdly: -Haven't you just seen the finest sight anywhere? And experienced it in every possible dimension? He slapped a light coat of cream on his face, neck, and arms: -Come on, tourguide, you've work to do. Yes darling, the most beautiful experience on earth. But this city's waiting for me, and it's our last afternoon here. They wandered hand-in hand. She pointed out the Music Conservatorium, to which she'd won a scholarship she hadn't been able to take up, as a teenager. He marvelled again at the remarkable range of her achievements: truly renaissance woman. Parliament House, the State Library, then the openness of Hyde Park, the Georgian grace of St James's church, Victorian neo-gothic opulence of St Mary's Cathedral. Portraits of Melanie in front of every notable building. They paused for a beer in the park, briefly. Time was running out on them. -Um sweetness, I want to show you a shopping centre. A good place to find presents for your family. He had a vision of some modern concrete structure, but a few yards walk took them to the Victorian Town Hall, with an elaborate turn-of-the-century red sandstone building opposite it. More photographs. -So where's this shopping centre love? It's nearly four, the train's at six... She led him across the road to the large sandstone structure: -Sydney's finest; the Queen Victoria Building. Bookshops, music shops and craft shops aplenty, just what you need? The interior was even more impressive than the outside. It had been refurbished, but in sympathy with the richness of its late Victorian charm. Shop-filled galleries towered above them, and the building stretched for hundreds of yards. When they emerged nearly an hour later, the rucsac was bulging with books, CDs, bits of jewellery and aboriginal craftwork. He was expounding the virtues of the place, but she stopped him, knew how he could go on if something caught his interest: -Later sweetheart. We have to move; just over an hour before the train leaves, and we need our cases from the hotel. The monorail'll take us there. Fifteen sweaty strap-hanging minutes later, they were in the cool of the hotel foyer. There was time to walk to the station, both their cases had sturdy wheels. They even had time for a beer on the terrace. He glanced at her as he pulled on his pint of Victoria Bitter: -Shouldn't we get something to eat on the train love? I'm getting hungry after all our exercise. -There's hot food on the train Sandy. Hardly gourmet, but it's OK. Rather better than the microwaved crap we had between Glasgow and London... He didn't rise to it: -Great. Time for another pint then, want one? Her hand moved over her half-full glass. ***** The train was busy, few vacant places. For this trip they had aircraft-type seats, so a modicum of privacy. They slumped into them, exhausted with their busy day, after less sleep than both were accustomed to. She leaned into him, kissed his cheek, her fingers playing with their chains: -Sweetheart, I hope you don't mind, but I need a nap. Remember to wake me at Campbeltown: I'm wet at the thought. Fuck first, an appetizer for dinner? His fingers moved up her thigh, into her shorts. He placed her hand on his erection: -Yes darling. Can hardly wait... He opened his Tim Winton as she nuzzled into him. When she woke, he was sound asleep, the novel on the floor. She glanced through the window; they were well past Campbeltown. Disentangling herself from his arms, she reached up for the rucsac, withdrew the timetable. The next longest time between stops was after Bundanoon: just short of forty minutes to Goulburn. But they'd have to eat first, the buffet usually shut at Goulburn. She worked her hand under the waistband of his shorts, fondled him to life. Whispered in his ear: -Well darling, I know you weren't dreaming about Karen. Or even me. Journey into Melanie's Reality Ch. 05 She worked his penis more insistently, and his eyes fluttered open. Her mouth to his ear again, a lick before she said: -We're on Plan B now sweetness: eat first to restore your energy, trainsex after. Um, and you might need a blue pill for this one? -Oh jesus, fell asleep, sorry love. Shouldn't have had that second beer at the station. And yes, I'll need the pill... -No more alcohol until after you spunk in me darling. Christ, do I need that. Over an hour to go though, let's get some food. They visited the buffet bar, queued interminably, were not long finished eating at their seats when the train drew into Bundanoon. His fingers danced provocatively up her thighs, eyes in hers as he sank in for a kiss: -Ready for your second trainfuck, sweetness? He stroked the wetness as she groaned her affirmative. They were moving as soon as the train did. There were quite a few passengers left aboard, but neither cared who saw them, or what they might think. She felt the wetness sliming her thighs as he locked the toilet door; turned to her: -Strip, woman. Uhuh, so that was his mood? She wasn't sure it was hers: -After you darling. His startled look failed to conceal an edge of annoyance. There was lust in her eyes, but something more. His uncertainty was transparent. Her hands went to his face, forced him to look at her: -This one's on my rules. Get your clothes off man. All of them. -Yes mistress. She picked up his shorts, removed the leather belt from them: -Bend over manslut. You need punished for your wicked thoughts about Karen. And your treatment of me in bed last night. Jesus. He'd subbed to her before, though only once when she was angry. There was no anger tonight: she was completely in control. Might be even worse than when she'd ignored his safeword in her fury. He obeyed her, bent over, grasping the convenient steel tube. -Count, manslut. He counted. Only to four, but each of the four had all her strength and determination behind them. He emitted something between a grunt and a squeal as each flash of pain consumed him. -Stand and look at me. He obeyed. She was naked now, belt on the floor, fingers at her groin. Pain notwithstanding, his cock began to engorge at the vision before him. She knelt, took his flacidity in her mouth. Oh sweetfuck he loved her, this woman, his woman. When he was hard she stood, turned, bent over the washbasin so her eyes were facing the mirror: -Service me Sandy. Pleasure your mistress. He gazed at the vision before him: her shameless eyes hooded in expectation, perfect breasts dangling salaciously, nipples protruding in lust. He moved behind her, bent forward so his cock quivered at her swollen labia. Reached round her form, watching in the mirror as his thumbs and forefingers closed on both nipples. Watched her face as his digits tightened, tugged, twisted. Her eyes closed and she pressed back on him, so he entered the pulsing need of her cunt. He altered position slightly, watched her eyes as his head rubbed her spot. The motion of the train was all that was required and he stood still as her hand went to her clit, her face contorting. Christ, he'd never seen her as beautiful. Started moving now, short gentle thrusts, tantalisingly increasing the pressure on her cuntwall till she wailed and bucked hard against him, and he heard her ejaculation splash the toilet floor. She collapsed forward on the washbasin. He was hovering on the edge, croaked: -Now darling, you're mine... His cock slid from her clinging heat, eased to probe her anus. She grunted and shifted back on him till he pierced her: -Jesus yes sweetness, take me, your beloved... He did, crude and fast. This was for him, though he knew she needed it too. Ramfuck, taking his lover, giving her what she required, plundering her innards, till they both hovered on the edge. Drew back, one last thrust... oh jesusfuck... felt her legs quiver. She crumpled and they groaned mutual release. His arms tightened round the woman he loved, as he had loved no other before. She gasped: -Three in one day darling. A record for us. The train was pulling into Goulburn when they returned to their seats. They were asleep as it sighed to a halt in Canberra at ten-thirty. By the time they got their luggage off, they were the last to leave. Of course, Phil was still up when the taxi dropped them at the bungalow. The place was a blaze of lights. She stood smiling beside the door whilst they hustled their luggage in. - Well, my lovelies, a good trip I hope? Melanie dug in her shoulder-bag, extracted the new Australian Literary Review she'd bought in Sydney Central: -Page three. He only managed page seven... Journey into Melanie's Reality Ch. 06 Author's note: This is the sixth and final part of the story. Just a wee reminder, as it's so long since I posted the first three chapters: the children are Melanie's, and Phil is her mother. Thanks as ever to my muse and inspiration, without whom this couldn't have been written. To raconteuse, for the most painstakingly professional editing. And to all my readers, whose posts and emails encourage me to strive to be a better writer. ***** Sandy had set his clock early. When Phil entered the kitchen about seven in the morning, he was already there; the kettle was boiling and the makings of breakfast were set out neatly ready for cooking. The older woman coughed, smiled: - Well, you beat me to it, for once. He turned grinning, as he filled the teapot: - Good morning Phil. I hope you slept well after your late night? Tea'll be ready in a couple of minutes. And since I'm not allowed to help you prepare breakfast, I forbid you to lift a finger to help me. Not even her daughter addressed her like that. Phil was momentarily discomfited, but knew this man was only trying to be chivalrous, so she swallowed it: - Melanie's poetry certainly made an impression on the reviewer. I must have read the article six times before I could sleep last night. She gave me a copy when the volume was published of course, but I have to admit I barely dipped into it. I need to read it with care now. Thank you for taking her to the reception... - Sandy! The squeal of youthful excitement could only have been Frances. Her arms went round him: - I'm so glad you're back! We've lots to show you. Um, how was Sydney? Bet you wore mummy out. Is she still asleep? The girl turned, hugged Phil: - Good morning Gran... love you. The woman's hand ruffled the girl's tousled hair: - G'morning to you, kitten. Now, let me show you how Sandy helped mummy in Sydney... She detached herself from her granddaughter, led her into the living area, thrust the Australian Literary Review, open at page three, in her hands. Frances gazed in awe at the quarter-page art portrait of her mother above the writing. - Mummy's in the paper! Wow, must show Maria and William... The girl disappeared at a run, clutching the article. Sandy emerged from the kitchen bearing a tray with teapot, milkjug, sugar and mugs: - Phil, would you be so kind as to take everyone their tea please? I'm just about to start cooking, so I want folks at the table in twenty minutes. Phil didn't allow the children to plague their mother over the meal: - The sooner you eat, the sooner you'll hear all about Sydney... A cacophony of excited questions erupted as soon as the last fork was laid down. Melanie's heart was in her face as she turned sideways, kissed Sandy's cheek: - Well, I think it's my job to tell you our adventures in the city. But remember, they only happened because this man here has written a remarkable novel. She gave her littlies an edited account of their time in Sydney. Maria's eyes were feasting on the portrait of her mother in the paper till she caught the word television: - MUM! You were on T.V.! You should've told us... - No darling, Sandy was the star, not me. But -- stroking his hand on the table -- I think they gave you a CD, dear? - Um yes, but it's only boring old me... Maria's eyes drilled him: - Sandy, you're the least boring person I've met. Well, for an old man... Where's the CD? The children disappeared into the garden once the show was over, Frances and Maria dragging Sandy by his hands. As they arrived at the rough shrubbery beside the drive, William explained: - We found a blue-tongued lizard yesterday. She's a female. Look Sandy... And the lad lifted a bit of old plywood behind the bushes, revealing a very large lizard. Sandy was genuinely delighted, but put on a bit of a show for the children: - Wow! Isn't she a beauty! Oh Frances, don't... But the girl had already draped the long fat reptile round her neck: - Go on, stroke him Sandy! He hesitated, but William pronounced: - It's okay man, they like being petted. Ah, the certainly of early adolescence, Sandy thought. He stroked the beast hesitantly: - Maybe they do. But I'm sure she'd prefer to be back under her bit of wood. Thank you for showing me. Now, what else is there to see? The lizard was forgotten as a trail of squeals led Sandy round the back of the house. - These -- it was Maria, pointing to a tangle of bikes -- they need fixing, and mummy never has the time. Can you sort them out? If you can, we'd love to take you cycling. Mummy has two bikes... - I know my way around a bike, lass. I'm sure I can fix them. But I smell coffee. Am I allowed to have one before I become an engineer? Three hours later, Melanie, Sandy, and the children rode back to the house. Sandy had of course, forgotten to apply suncream, and the back of his neck, brow, and the tops of his forearms and thighs glowed red through sweat. He collapsed on the sofa, but Melanie busied herself in the kitchen preparing lunch, showing not a trace of exertion or discomfort. ***** As they finished eating, Phil announced: - I'm on dinner-duty tonight. Who wants to help me with the shopping? She drove off ten minutes later, with the children. When they were out of sight, Sandy took Melanie in his arms: - Well darling, isn't Phil sweet? Looks like we have a couple of hours to ourselves... any thoughts? She glanced coyly at him, eyelashes fluttering. Acting it, he knew. - Um, perhaps... I'd like to complete what we started last time darling, when Mum took my littlies to the library. Remember? God did he remember: his woman bent over, his cock deep in her from behind... and the crunch of tyres on gravel ending it: - Yes sweetness... - I need to change then. She slid past him to her room, still in her cycling lycras. Returned a different woman: tight t-shirt showing braless tits, short summer skirt, black thighhighs. When he lifted the skirt to inspect her, a red lace band showed at the tops of the stockings. And her cunt was naked, glistening. He gasped, suddenly erect. Pulled her to him possessively, hand between her legs: - Fuck, darling, you know exactly how to get to me, don't you? - I know you sometimes need me like this... and sometimes I need to be your dirtygirl. Come on... She led him outside, to the exact spot where their coitus had been interrupted a few days previously. She knelt before him subserviently, removed his shorts and briefs. Sniffed: - Oh, you really are my darling dirtyman, you stink of sexsweat... And her mouth enveloped him, lascivious, needy. He gasped: - No sweetness, I'll spurt in your mouth, and what will you get from that? She raised her head: - You really still don't understand that I love pleasuring you like this, do you? His head shook. - You get pleasure from tasting my sex, don't you, silly man? - You know I do darling... - Well, for fuck's sake accept that sucking you gets me off too. Please? And he was lost in her pulsing throat again, her muscles drawing him in. He nearly gave in to her. But this wasn't what he wanted now. Grabbed her hair, drew her upright: - Dirtygirl, he needs cunt... He turned her, thrust her against the wall, pulled her back by the waist so she was bent in half. He was a furnace of lust as his eyes swept over her submission: her muscular arse, the pouting sex beneath it, the provocation of the sluttish thighhighs: - This, darling, is what I have to do first. He knelt, savouring the mix of sweat and sexscent. Lapped at her cunt and arse, inhaling her need as she squirmed. Revered her sexuality with mouth and fingers till she was panting, and intensified his ministrations. She wailed as her squirt soaked the earth below her. Still spasming as she felt his penetration: - Oh darling mine, yes, take me... He grunted, inarticulate feral need. Words were as nothing. Intensity of matedness, earthy beauty of the inevitable. Animal lust, but so much more than that... the rising, then soaring. She'd clenched him in orgasm three times, ululating her triumph, heedless of neighbours. At last the sap rose in him, and she sensed it, so closely attuned were they. She groaned: - Arse, darling, spunk this arse you own... No, he wasn't going to do that. Knew she was near mid-cycle, and something undeniable in him had to seed her. Sometime this woman would bear his children. He could hardly find words: - No darling. Has to be here, in your child-bearing cunt... oh jesusfuck... now... He shuddered his sperm deep in her, touching as they'd never touched, and his growl of victory was drowned by her unearthly wailing. Gasping, he fell on her back, their sweat mingling... - Melanie! Are you okay? She convulsed in laughter, expelling him, called back to her neighbour on the other side of the high impenetrable hedge; - I'm fine Sheila, Sandy's trying to test how tickly I am -- she exploded in giggles -- and he finally found the right spot. Sorry if I alarmed you... - Oh, the Scots guy you told me about? You must bring him over for a drink. - Yeah, I'll do that. Thanks for the offer. Sandy was finally recovering, shouted to the unseen woman: - And thanks from me too. I look forward to meeting you. - I'll phone you both and fix something, okay? Melanie was on her knees again, about to take Sandy in her mouth: - Look forward to that Sheila, thanks... Before engulfing his withering cock, she whispered: - We must go to your room sweetness. To find your blue pills. You know how I am mid-cycle... He was semi-erect after a couple of minutes: - Aye love, blue pill time. She lay on his bed, naked save the thighhighs. She'd fetched her toybag on the way, knew he'd be a while before he was ready for more. As her naked man swallowed the pill, she drew the largest vibe from her collection: - Draw the chair over darling, so you can watch and smell... Oh jesus... he'd watched her masturbate before, but never with that monster: - Jesus sweetness... will that thing fit in you? She smiled, sweet innocence, moaned as the device parted her swollen labia: - I've had bigger things in me than this love... His mind flashed back to what she'd told him of some of her sexual exploits when she was younger, before she'd met her deceased husband George. He believed her. Watched fascinated as she pressed the toy home, his gaze alternating between her sex and her face: - Tell me darling. Tell me the biggest thing that's been in your cunt? The toy was fully lodged in her now. Her fingers twisted the base, and it began humming. Her eyes rolled, her mouth contorted. She managed to gasp: - Later, darling... ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh... jesusfuck... but -- she was pounding the thing into herself now, writhing -- nobody's ever completed me as you do... Her back arched, arse right off the bed. Her plaintive whinny filled his head as she shuddered, face in rictus... The toy slid out of her and she finally sighed back on the bed, wreathed in the beatific look he adored. He rose from the chair, lay beside her, stroking her face, kissing her eyes. Truly the love of his life: - Thank you for sharing that my sweet. You were utterly -- he struggled to find an appropriate word, failed -- awesome. She smiled: - Hmm, that's a bit of an Americanism for my Scotsman? - It was meant correctly. Maybe awe-inspiring would have been better? She giggled, struggled to her elbows to regard him carefully: - Um, and is this what awe inspires in you darling? He followed her eyes. His cock was huge and red, throbbing: - Only awe for you... - Uhuh, that'll be right. Bet you were at least as hard for Karen the other night? - Sweetness, I... - Silly, when in a hole, stop digging. Now -- lowering her mouth -- what am I to do with this? Her eyes questioned as her lips tightened round him. He decided: this was her scene, not his: - What d'you want to do, my lioness? Her head rose from him. He couldn't quite identify the look in her eyes. Lust certainly, but there was more. Then he understood: - I only want to serve my mistress, darling. Whatever your pleasure... - Go and lie in the shower, sextoy. Don't turn it on. Yet. He obeyed, shivering with excitement. When she was in this mode she was completely unpredictable. Jesus, the wonder of submitting to her. He'd never played sub to anyone else. His cock almost hurt, the pulsing was so fierce. She stood over him. He'd expected to see her strapon, but no, still naked other than the salacious thighhighs: - Your wish is my command, mistress. She crouched over him, scanning his face as her knees bent. Her hands reached to pull her bum apart. Her greasy arse touched his cockhead, and her hand went to guide it. She lowered herself, impaling herself on his sex: - Need... this... sextoy... Now, fuck me. Drill my arse. Christ, the command in her voice... as if she had to tell him. His hips rose, thrusting hard, till there was nothing left of him to enter her. - Call that fucking? You can do better than that... He hadn't expected the slap on his face; she'd never done that before. It worked. His hips rose into her, a hard staccato pattern, her slippery arse drawing him in, seeking to coax the inevitability from him. Then she groaned, and wetness poured on his belly. Not ejaculate. Piss. She rose to standing, leaving his cock shivering in solitude, and shuffled up so her urine was splashing his face: - Open mantoy. Drink. He opened his mouth and she crouched again to better control the direction. He spluttered to take it in, swallow. Then as the last dribbles issued from her, she lowered her gaping cunt on his face: - Clean me fucktoy. She'd dommed him before, but he'd never heard that tone of voice. He moved his head a fraction from her seeping sexflesh: - After you're clean, mistress... what's your pleasure then? - After that you're going to fuck my arse for YOU. Just let go. Pretend I'm Karen. That's what I want next. Jesus, her beautiful unpredictability. His cock leaked as he mouthwashed her, till she rose: - Bed now darling. Take your girl on the bed. Um, cuff me to it, wrists at least... He levered himself from the shower floor. Stood. Slapped her cunt hard. - Move darling. Glad it's my turn. On your back, I need to see your face. His hands were trembling so much, it was hard to lock the cuffs. Christ, she was beautiful like this, open to his ravages, eyes shimmering with lust. They widened as he lifted the crop, trailed it round her nipples. Watched as the teats grew, grapes of want. He tapped them smartly with the dangly leather loop, watched her face: - I adore you darling. Legs up now. Need to take your arse. She was silent. He bent her legs over her, secured her ankles to the bedhead so her cunt and arse gaped for him, so vulnerable, so beautiful. He manoeuvred her till her body rested on her shoulders, trunk and neck unnaturally twisted. Didn't matter, this fuck wouldn't take long. He crouched over her, grasping her ankles for support. Her anus stretched invitingly. His rod accepted the invitation. Her eyes hooded as he eased into the tight greasiness: - Jesus sweetness... this position... feels like your cock is pressing my gspot through the membrane... ohfuck, so beautiful... He shifted the angle of entry slightly: - Should have fucked Karen like this the other night... - Ohhhhhhhhhh... no darling, not like this, this is only for me, promise? - Not... Promising... Anything, my love... going to explode soon... He took the electric toothbrush from her toybag, turned it on, applied it to her clit as he plundered her. Watched her face writhe into pre-orgasmic grimace, eyeballs disappearing upwards. Her sphincter tightened on him and he spunked as her ejaculation soaked them. The drenched toothbrush fizzled to a halt. He tenderly unfastened her ankles, laid her back on the mattress, his penis slipping from her with the movement. ***** That evening, after an afternoon visiting the stunning new Federal Parliament building, Melanie whispered to him: - Mum's leaving the day after tomorrow. There's something I need to show you, on our own, before she goes. It means you must be up and ready by maybe five-thirty in the morning. D'you think you'll manage that sweetness? - Sounds interesting... course I'll be up numpty! So what're you going to show me? And why does it have to be without the bairns? She pressed a finger to her lips, kissed him goodnight: - I promise you'll like it. Of course she was up first, as morning light began to show faintly through his window. He scrambled into his clothes. She was filling vacuum cups for the car as he entered the kitchen: - Good morning love. No time for brekkie here, we'll eat it as we drive. He took his woman in his arms, smelled sleep-fragrance under her loose summer dress: - Good morning my sweet. Am I allowed to know yet what adventure we're embarking on? She tilted her head sideways, the coy smile he loved emerging: - Umm... s'pose so. Know what a platypus is? - Aye, one of your odd marsupials, isn't it? - Nope, dill. It's actually a mammal, but an egg-laying one. And the male is venomous, but you'll never get near enough one to find out the hard way. There's a nature reserve a few kilometres away where you can usually see them at dawn. So let's move, the sun'll rise soon. He was glad of the coffee and oatmeal slabs in the car. She explained: - About the only good thing my editor's done for me was to tell me about this place darling. - Hey numpty, she gave you a job, didn't she? - Um, well, that too I s'pose... look, we're here. Well into the reserve, there was a bench beside the path, looking down over the breadth of the river where it widened into a wee lake. She whispered: - Sit quietly and don't move darling. Just watch the water, close to the banks. As the sun rose, its light caught ripples on the water. Sandy gasped, a subdued whisper: - There darling, is that one? Oh, another... He raised the binocs to his eyes, then passed them to her as he fiddled with the zoom. Four now, three near their bank, one at the other side. Only vees in the water showed where they were, but he snapped away relentlessly. Within ten minutes all had disappeared. Melanie turned to him, a triumphant look in her eyes: - That was very lucky. They don't always show. Shall we walk on a bit? It was only when she stood, dawn glowing through the thin cotton of her dress, that he realised it was all she was wearing. His hand reached to lift the garment, glide up her thighs, touch the wetness: - Yes darling. Show me the way... Eventually the track petered out in a bog, but not before, binocs to her eyes, she'd identified several species of wildfowl and other birds for him; and they'd paused entranced to watch a large group of kangaroos dance purposefully across the field on the other bank. Her look was unmistakeable as she gazed into his eyes: - Fraid this is the end of the path love. But we passed a good spot to sit, a few metres back. Want to rest? - Not to rest, exactly, no... - Oooh, wonder what that means? His hand cupped her groin: - You know exactly what it means darling. There's nobody around. We need to fuck. - Hah, you mean YOU need to fuck, horny man... A finger slid into her wetness: - Correction. WE need, sweetness. It looked like a fishing station: a wee concrete jetty, dried remains of fish at the edges. He kicked them aside, drew the goretex from his rucsac, spread it out. Started removing his clothes. She watched his rigidity emerge, glanced up the path, hesitantly drew the dress over her head: Journey into Melanie's Reality Ch. 06 - I'm just a bit nervous sweetheart. This is a good time for fishing, before the sun reaches into the banks... - Pose for me. Need photos of you like this. She posed, artfully at first, then libidinously. He knew she'd done this before. He put the camera in the rucsac: - Lie down sweetness. We've your jacket to cover us, in case we're disturbed. She looked up the path again, squinted against the sun. Good, it'd soon be into the bank. She lay down, smiling through the undercurrent of fear of discovery. He crouched beside her, cock protruding, dripping with need. Took her hand, stroked it: - Has anyone said anything to you about our chains sweetness? - Um, yes, Maria asked me about them. Phil noticed the night we got back from Sydney. She hasn't said a word, so we're okay with her... - Melanie, darling. I want you to wear my ring too. Will you marry me? Please... She drew him down to lie on her, his cock sliming her belly: - Make love to me darling. And he did, a slow languorous coupling in the freshness of a glowing new morning, till her hips moved under him as her lovelust grew. He responded, his movements more urgent, but she pushed him off her: - On your back, man. Now. I need to fuck you. He acquiesced. She mounted him, piercing herself on his hardness, lowered her dangling breasts to his face: - Teeth. Need teeth. Fuck, this was the first time she'd asked for that. His teeth tugged gently at a nipple, and she pulled her body back, stretching the teat obscenely. Sank on him again. His mouth moved to the other, and this time when she pulled back she sounded, a low guttural moan, and her cunt clenched him tight as her hips moved frantically on him. She didn't need to ask; he sank two fingers in her arse as she fucked him and methodically tugged her nipples taut in his teeth, wailing: - God I love you Sandy, everything, love and need you... come to me darling, come to your fiancée... The word triggered it. One final downward thrust from her met his lunge. She screamed as his teeth bit harder, involuntarily, and his fecundity filled the spasming body above him. They lay locked for minutes, mouths together, fingers stroking, merged completely. Eventually she sat up, his hardness wilting in her, her face a portrait of serene joy. He hardly dared to breathe. She'd said fiancée, but he wanted confirmation she was really his: - So your answer to my question is yes, darling? Oh jesus... - Sandy, I will be your wife. I've wanted you, all of you, since we first met. But you know you'll have to emigrate... your children, future grandchildren... you won't see much of them... we've a lot to discuss. ***** That evening he read to the children whilst Phil packed, and Melanie got her head into an article. He knew he was late getting them to bed; still couldn't help indulging them and of course, they played him for all they could. He fetched Melanie and Phil to say goodnight to them, heard William ask wistfully: - Mummy, how long's Sandy going to be here? He allowed himself a smile. The morning was all bustle. Sandy stowed Phil's carefully-packed belongings into her ancient Lada. Melanie tried to waken sleepy children whilst her mother prepared breakfast. They were all subdued over the meal. Sandy watched Phil as she benignly supervised the bairns. She was a most remarkable woman. But then she had to be, to have produced such a daughter. As the children would grow to have their mother stamped all over their personalities. Finally the meal was done. Phil stood: - Well, no point in delaying things, I've work to catch up on when I get home. She turned to face Sandy: -- I do hope you can find time to visit me for a day before you leave young man. I'd love you to see my place. He understood the woman well enough by know to know that she'd accepted him into her life, glowed: - Phil, thank you for the invitation. It'll be my privilege to see your place. That is, if your grandchildren will allow me... A cacophony of childsound, till Maria's voice emerged: - Hey dill, we're coming too. We need to show you our secret places at Gran's... Melanie sounded thoughtful: - Um, I might take a raincheck on that trip folks, get on with some work when I have the place to myself. Now Mum, isn't it time you were going? The old lady's driving style showered them with gravel and dust as the ancient 4wd took off. The children scattered in the garden. Sandy turned to his lover: - Well! Yer auld mither's quite a lady! How far's her place? - It's just short of Bateman's Bay, near the coast, maybe a couple of hours drive. Close enough to be handy, far enough to keep her out of my hair... - Okay, so feasible for a day? I wouldn't want to put her to the trouble of having us overnight. - Yes love. And it'll give me a day to get a pile of work done, so I've more time for you during the rest of your stay. The few days remaining to him sped by in a whirl: entertaining the children; exploring Canberra hand in surreptitious hand with Melanie when the children shared board and scooters at the city's many skateparks; deliciously precious times alone with her once the three were abed. The day at Phil's place was memorable: it was the first time he'd really spent time with her alone. The children faded into whoops of joy outside, having shown him their 'secret places'. Phil looked at him as she poured their tea: - Let's have this on the verandah Sandy. You need all the sun you can get before you return to your Scottish winter. But I know in my bones that you'll be back? They settled companionably on the verandah bench and he turned to her: - Aye, I'll be back lassie. I know you understand: I can't stay away from your daughter. Or -- he laughed -- the rest of you. Her eyes were sharp as a hawk's: - Is that all you have to say on the matter Sandy? He took a work-worn hand in his: - Melanie and I will marry, Phil. I'm emigrating here as soon as I can organise that. It'll take a few months for me to wrap things up at home, sell my flat, obtain a visa. I hope we have your blessing. - Young man... - Hey, I'm over sixty... not-so-young woman... - You're young enough to make my daughter happy, and I've never seen her so happy before. Yes, you have my blessing. Provisionally... Their laughter was so loud that the children came running. William demanded: - Can we share the joke? Phil looked in the eyes of her daughter's lover: - Well, are you going to tell them, or should I? - Mmm, I rather think that's Melanie's job. The older woman's eyes fell from his. First time that'd happened, he noted. There was a wicked grin on her face when it rose again: - Yes, of course. Sorry, just got a bit excited... He was relieved to have her blessing, provisional or not. Understood she was very careful in her choice of words, and that 'provisionally' meant yes. He knew what would still the clamour of questions from the children: - Hey, didn't you guys tell me there are bee-hives somewhere around here? But the questions returned as they set out on the drive back to Canberra. Maria of course was the perceptive one: - You love mummy, don't you Sandy? - Sweet lassie, I love you all... He remembered a trick he'd used when his own children were young: - Hey, I need to concentrate on my driving, not field your questions. So sit properly in your seats and be wheesht. There's a ten dollar prize for anyone who can remain silent till we get there. You're allowed to discuss and agree on a CD to play, then not a word from any of you, please. Poor Frances couldn't quite make it, but the older ones did. He drew out his wallet when the car was parked outside the bungalow: - First, for the runner-up. Five dollars. Frances took it with a whispered thanks, before leaping out of the car to run to her mother at the door of the house. - And for the winners, ten dollars each. William's voice rose above his sisters' clamour as Sandy kissed his beloved: - Mummy? Sandy and Gran were talking about something secret. Sandy told us it had to come from you. He even -- the boy's shoulders squared -- bribed us to be quiet in the car. So, what's the secret? Melanie's eyes met Sandy's. He fingered his chain, smiled, nodded almost imperceptibly. She moaned, a wee performance for him, then turned to her silent children: - Well, you know Sandy has to leave in a couple of days? Silent nods. - That's the bad news. The good news is... Frances flung herself at Sandy: - I know, I know... - The good news is, he's coming back. I've decided... that I need his help, looking after you lot. For some strange reason -- her face was glowing -- he's agreed... Maria stood back a little, eyes smiling behind her affected seriousness: - Is he going to marry you mummy? Melanie collapsed in tears, hugging her man to her for support: - Yes darlings, we'll be married. He won't be your new dad. George was and always will be your father. But he'll be your friend. And my husband. William stepped forward. Took Sandy's right hand, but his eyes were on his mother: - I'm so glad for both of you mummy. -- His eyes moved - Welcome to our family, Sandy. He momentarily forgot his pretensions at maturity, gave Sandy a hug. A rather stiff hug, but still, a hug, which Sandy returned with warmth: - Thank you for your welcome young man. -- He smiled rogueishly -- Course, you realise I'm only doing this for you? I grew up without a father, know what it is for a lad not to have a man around... The boy's grin split his face: - You are so NOT doing it for me! Frances leapt on Sandy: - No, he's doing it for ME, aren't you? He lowered the girl to the ground, his arm snaking round his woman's waist: - Hey, I'm marrying your mummy because I love her. I love all of you: I couldn't consider emigrating here if I didn't. But -- he glanced mock-daggers at the three children -- that does NOT mean I'll be an easy touch for any of you... Maria kissed his cheek, sniggering: - Sandy, welcome to your new family. But we all know you're a big softie! Does that mean you'll be sleeping with mummy till you leave? Sandy glanced at his lover. The slightest trace of a frown, which eased gradually into a shy smile. The tiniest nod: - Yes darlings, now our secret's out, Sandy will be sleeping in my bed. Maria grinned: - Well, thank goodness. It's really hard to climb the stairs without spilling your tea in the morning, Sandy. It took ages to get the excited children to bed. The adults gave them a good hour before Melanie made a final check and pronounced them fast asleep. She took Sandy's hand, led him to her room. Inside, door firmly closed and locked, she reached round him, sank her head on his shoulder. She was trembling as she whispered: - Darling mine, I never dreamt this would happen. That we'd share my bed, and the children knowing it. It almost feels illicit. No, not illicit, but something else, something new... - Yes love, our new start. Now -- he fumbled to remove her clothes -- I want you in bed. - I'm a bit self-conscious sweet. Please, we need to be so quiet... He checked the door was locked, stripped slowly, slid into bed beside her. Kissed the beautiful softness of her lips as their bodies merged: - I love you however you are darling mine. Self-conscious is a new one though... Her fingers reached for him, placed him at her entrance: - Show me how you love me, darling mine... The near-silence was strange: they'd never had to be restrained in their mating before. Eased together, completed each other as mutual need slowly rose, breathing turning to panting, awareness of the necessity for silence on both faces, panting becoming soft grunts of need, need becoming hard forceful shuddering... the bed creaked and they tensed together, hanging on the edge, till she moaned: - Hard and fast sweet. Now... He drove into her, watched her face spasm as he forced in to touch her cervix: - I... own... this cunt darling... when you give yourself like this... - ohmysweet, yes, NOW... and forever... He pressed a hand to her mouth to stifle the wailing, spunk pumping into her, her cuntmuscles contracting round him, imprisoning him in her. He managed to whisper: - And you own me, sweetness. All of me. Always. They were on the edge of sleep when Melanie stirred, eased herself from his arms, unlocked the door, whispered: - Just in case we have a visitor love. Um, and for the same reason maybe we'd better wash the sexsmell from each other. She soaped a facecloth in hot water, washed his sex carefully, gave it to him. He wiped her tenderly, sniffed, observed that all she smelt of now was soap. They weren't joined by Frances though. Next morning Melanie was preparing breakfast in her nightie when the phone rang. Her mother. Some crisis with a calf: the vet was coming the next day. So Phil couldn't come to Canberra to allow her to go to Sydney to see her man off. Fuck and doublefuck. Then, as they were eating breakfast, she took another phonecall. From Karen. She'd had to postpone her holiday, some crisis at work. Could she see them in Sydney the following evening? Jesus, the world was harsh sometimes... She told Karen she'd call her back. Attempted to mask her feelings when she returned to the table, but Sandy knew something was up. He waited till the children were in the garden, drew her to him: - Darling, what's happened? She fell into his arms, managed through her sobs: - Darling, I can't come to Sydney to see you off. Phil has a problem, she can't come to be here for the children. She phoned just before breakfast. Asked me to apologise to you on her behalf. She's a sick calf on her hands. - Oh love, how awful. For the calf, for her, for us. So tonight's our last night together? But there was a call during breakfast too, that shook you up. Who was that? She collapsed, howling. He lowered her to a chair, got down on his hunkers beside her, licking the tears from her face. She looked in his eyes, a strange distant look: - Well, you'll get your fuck, your last night in Sydney. Only it won't be me... - Don't be silly sweetheart. So what was the call? - Karen. She's going to be in Sydney tomorrow evening after all. She was watching him closely now, saw the flicker of excitement cross his face. Murmured: - I know you want her darling mine. Well, looks like you've got your chance after all... He drew her to him, wiped her tears, was about to speak... She whispered: - Take her darling, with my blessing. Fuck her all night. -- Her voice grew more determined -- Fuck her for me darling. I know you want to. He drew back from her. Knew it was her masochism speaking, as well as the generosity of her love. He looked in her despairing soul: - Darling, I hope you didn't tell Karen I'll meet her. Because I won't. - I just said I'd call her back. His last three words hit her: - You WON'T? Sweetness, she's your publisher, you need to keep her onside, and you know what she wants from you. As I know what you want from her... - There's nothing in my contract says I have to fuck my publisher, my sweet. In fact, there's likely small print saying it's not on. Let me just check... She sat bewildered, mind in turmoil at the news which had turned the day sour. He returned after ten minutes, clutching a document. Held it out for her. His contract. And in bold red capitals across the bottom of the document she read: UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES IS SEX BETWEEN OUR CLIENT AND ANY OF OUR STAFF PERMITTED. SUCH BEHAVIOUR WILL BE REGARDED AS BREACH OF CONTRACT. His signature was scrawled below it, ink still wet from his fountain pen. His fingers went to her chin, lifted the bowed face, searched her eyes: - See? Even if I wanted to, I can't fuck her. So, best that I don't see her at all. Her quivering face became a smile. She stood, drawing him to her: - Oh darling, whatever am I to do with you? - Um, well, you recently agreed to marry me... They exploded in gales of laughter, loud enough to bring the children running into the house, scaring the cat onto the back of the sofa. William panted: - Can we share the joke? His mother recovered enough to whisper hoarsely: - Nope, not this time my dears. A private matter between Sandy and I. Sorry to disappoint you... But they were out the door again. She turned to him, laughter replaced by concern: - Darling, I don't mind if you fuck her, truly I don't. - Melanie, please look me in the eye and say that again? - I... Her eyes fell from his. He kissed her brow: - I don't think we need to speak of this again. - If you're sure lovely... - Never been surer of anything my sweet. I'll phone her later to let her know. I want you to be there when I speak to her, please? As far as I'm concerned, we're married already. Strange cunt is off my menu. Permanently. Looking in his eyes, she almost believed him. She wanted to change the subject: - Well love, since you're being so good, I thought of a treat for you. And for the littlies, I hope. - You know I love treats! What is it? - The best treats are always surprises. But first we need shopping, and the market will be fading if we don't move soon, the best stuff always goes fast. Get the children in and organised? I need to get dressed, can hardly go out like this... - Maybe not with the children. Another time though... - Wicked tease, you are. ***** The market was in an old bus depot to the southwest of the city centre. The children watched a stallholder pushing whole oranges and lemons into two machines, pouring fresh juice from them. He offered them a row of wee samples, and of course they ordered five half-litres, gulped them down in the stifling heat of the covered area. An hour later the shopping was done. Melanie handed Sandy the car keys: - I need to navigate love. So you're driving. Approaching the station, she told him to turn left off the main road. Rundown housing on the left, the sprawling remains of railway freight yards to the right. And then before them a neat Victorian station building, and a sign: 'Canberra Railway Museum'. He parked and turned to kiss her: - Thank you for this indulgence darling. I know there's not a lot here to interest you... - Don't be so sure of that dillbrain; I'm interested in every aspect of my country's history. There's supposed to be a guided tour about now. You coming? The girls didn't seem overjoyed as he bought tickets. He whispered this to Melanie when they joined a wee crowd on the platform outside. She retorted: - It's part of their history too sweetness. The girls cheered up as the guide led them through passenger carriages, ancient and not-so-ancient. They bounced on dusty seats as William listened carefully to the explanation of what they were seeing. In a fairly modern sleeping berth, Melanie's hand tightened on Sandy's, and she whispered: - Um, darling, I just remembered something... - Yes love? - Ummm... well. Going to Sydney with you wasn't my first time on a train... She'd blushed beet-red. - Darling that's all right, we can all forget things. Tell me? - Later, when the littlies aren't around... After lunch at home, the children outside, he phoned Karen. He'd asked Melanie to be there for the call, the phone on broadcast. Explained to his publisher that he was arriving in Sydney late, about nine-thirty, and needed an early night to be up for his flight, so sorry, he'd love to see her but couldn't. She seemed to take it graciously, wished him a safe journey, said she'd keep in touch by email when he was home. Melanie looked at him as he put the phone down: - Course now she knows which train you'll be on. She might meet you at the station, despite your excuses? Journey into Melanie's Reality Ch. 06 - Oh sweetness, will you please stop worrying about her? In the very unlikely event that she's there to meet me, I'll buy her a drink in the station bar and get in a taxi. Alone. Please darling, believe me? Now, about your previous trainsex? She blushed deeply again, then looked him in the eye: - Not long after I graduated love, in my early twenties. I'd been in Melbourne for job interviews, returned to Sydney on the sleeper. Course I read for a bit in the bar, and was befriended by a hunk. He made no pretence of what he was after, and... well... neither did I. I had the sleeping berth to myself... until he returned with me to it. We fucked all night, every possible way. -- She looked in his eyes -- As I've told you, I had my moments then. He was one of my better finds, although I never saw him again. Strangers in the night indeed... - Thank you for telling me darling. I've fucked a few women in sleepers myself, but never a complete stranger... there must have been a bit of special excitement about that? But I'm not sure why you were embarrassed to tell me sweet? - Um, yes. It was rather exciting... I was embarrassed to tell you only because I'd lied to you about you being, well, my first trainfuck... He gathered her in his arms, kissed her mouth lovingly: - Jesus, please darling, you've a terrible habit of beating yourself up. You didn't lie, you forgot about one of your many conquests... - MY many conquests, jesus! Pots and kettles darling? - Sweetness, please? We've shared lots of our sexual histories before. I'm GLAD you're no blushing virgin darling. Now can we leave it? I thought we were taking the children swimming this afternoon? Let's get organised. He spent most of the afternoon by the pool supervising Frances. She was young yet, and not as confident in the water as her siblings. He knew Melanie always had to do the watching, and was happy to let her get her exercise. Her speed and stamina amazed him, though he knew she'd swum competitively when she was younger. As she'd competed in most things: running, cycling, singing, academically. Himself, he preferred solo pursuits: climbing, cycling, walking alone most of the time. But only because he'd never really found anyone with whom to share the pleasures of his solitudes. He knew he'd never be alone in the future. Not now. His eyes mainly on Frances, he allowed his mind to wander. He'd never even once thought of emigrating before, never had cause to. His life, his family, his work, had always been in Scotland. But his children were all grown-up, and his writing was portable, so he had no reason to stay any longer. And a compelling reason to move. He wasn't worried about settling in Australia. Had wondered about it ever since he'd met Melanie, but now he was here, experiencing the place at first hand. Enough was familiar to be comfortable, hell, they even drove on the same side of the road, had very similar traffic rules. And there were challenging new mountains to explore before he got too creaky. Nope, he had no regrets about his pledge to marry his lover. They were meant to be together. In the face of that, emigrating ten thousand miles was a trifle. He glanced at his watch. It was getting late and he was taking them out to dinner that evening. He knew it would take ages to get the children out of the water. He called them in, and eventually all were in the changing rooms showering. He wore full highland dress for the dinner, for the children. They'd chosen a tapas bar, so lots of exciting choices to suit everyone's tastes. He and Melanie had decided not to drink on their last evening together in goodness knew how long. Then they took turns reading to the bairns before their bedtime. Frances was very clingy, chose to sit on his lap for the reading. Eventually Melanie pronounced them asleep, and they slid exhausted into bed together. She grasped him tightly as he suckled her, felt the jolt from nipples to cunt as his fingers tingled the satin of her being and slid into her wetness. Her hips rose as involuntarily as her thighs opened to him. His tongue feathered her face as he hovered at her sexportal; his gentle words reached her from somewhere far away: - Darling mine, I adore you. Next time I'm here will be the last time we part... She groaned softly as his pulsing need entered her. Began moving against him, ineluctable. Their movements intensified in perfect synchrony till sweat poured from both, mutual striving for release, mouths as needy as their groins, seeking, grasping, rising inexorably, finding the plateau of reciprocal elation, till it shattered in the euphoria of their explosion. Watching her face as she moved through the progress of orgasm and aftermath, he sighed: - My darling, it's different every time, isn't it? Something new every time we make love? Her smile penetrated his soul: - Yes sweetness. We have the infinity of experience to explore, in every way, -- she giggled, twisted her hips -- not least sexually. Now sweet, I must sleep. We'll have to find a way for a private moment before you leave tomorrow... - Aye, we will. Think I might have found the way... - Oh! Tell! - Wheesht darling, just a surprise for tomorrow. Now let's sleep... ***** Sandy had to buy special gifts for the children before he left, and he knew exactly what they should be. After breakfast he told Melanie he had to take them shopping for a couple of hours. Alone. Then he disappeared down the drive with excited bairns, for the bus to the city centre. He'd found the skateshop online when he realised the kids were fascinated by the sport, and had found time to check it out alone when Melanie was buying clothes for their new school term. The faces on the children when he showed them into the shop were portraits of delight. He grinned and hugged the three of them to him: - Um, I noticed your interest in this. Wondered if you'd all like boards as my going-away present? William, I know you have one, but it's a supermarket model, a toy really. This shop sells proper ones. Anyone interested... His words were lost in the squeals and hugs of the bairns. William and Maria lost their facades of coolness in their excitement. Sandy held up his hand to calm them: - Hey there, you lot! I think you should listen to what Zack here has to say, so he can find the right boards for you all. It took thirty minutes to kit them all out with boards, trucks, helmets, and knee and elbow protection. Then whilst the children explored the shop, Sandy had a hurried discussion with Zack. When they returned home, the children's squeals announced they'd found their mother before Sandy was halfway up the drive. The children of course clamoured all morning to spend the afternoon at a skatepark. Over lunch Sandy finally told them: - We are indeed going to a skatepark this afternoon. And one of Zack's friends has agreed to spend a couple of hours giving you lessons. You might get more after I've gone but -- his hand rose to quell the shouting -- only if you agree to behave impeccably, and do exactly what Sarah tells you. Do I have your word? Melanie's eyes were shining as they left the children in Sarah's hands at the skatepark: - Darling, you didn't have to go to all that trouble and expense, just to have time with me alone... - Hmm... course it wasn't just for that love. I wanted to leave them something to remember me by. But, yes, it also gave us our last time alone together, until I return. So let's get home. We'll have an hour before we have to get back here... ***** The trail of hastily-abandoned clothes began at the front door and ended in her bedroom. They stood naked, panting, their eyes plundering each other. Eventually she spoke: - We had gentle lovemaking last night my sweet. This last time I need a fuck. Take me. He stepped in front of her. Two fingers slid into her soaking cunt: - On your back, on the bed... His fingers didn't leave her as she sighed back on the mattress. He marauded her sex, their eyes deep in each other. Then hers rolled up, whites only visible. Her body contorted and his wrist was soaked. He worked four fingers into her, rubbing and clawing. Tried to squeeze his thumb in too, but couldn't get it past the final knuckle as her body writhed and twisted. More squirting and she groaned: - Please darling, don't try to force it. I want your fist in me, but it'll take time. For when you return... one of many new pleasures for both of us. Cock now, give me cock. Her elbows lifted her knees and she was open to him, gaping in invitation. He didn't hesitate, exhilarating lust for his woman surging through him. He looted her pulsing need, plunging wildly, claiming her so she'd never forget this when they were apart. She screamed, the most excruciating, most beautiful sound he'd ever heard. He quaked as she contracted round him, knew his seeds were swimming in her, seeking her egg... Then he collapsed on her, both spent. There were tears in every eye as they saw him onto the evening train. He tried to read on the journey, couldn't focus. He'd just taken the most irrevocable step in his life. Thought about how he'd tell his children he was leaving them, though of course there would be visits both ways. Wondered how his bairns would relate to Melanie's. Wondered everything. But knew there was only one right decision, and that was the one he'd taken. He had a new life ahead of him, and he embraced it without reservation. Melanie's reality had become his.