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Life in the Fast Lane

By: Dinsmore



A familiar theme and structure for me with, I hope, ample stroke and the ultimate romance. I tend to get on a theme, in this case two people not realizing that they were meant to be together and almost letting it slip away only to find each other again down the road. It takes them each some time to realize how good they had it together. My beloved editor died several years ago as this story was completed. I've never found another with whom I could work. That and three rescue canines, curtailed my writing. 

*

He knocked on the door of her basement apartment at the agreed upon hour to pick her up for dinner. This would be their first date. The previous evening they had enjoyed their first fuck. She had been the aggressor. Following a brief make-out session on her living room floor, she had said, "I don't know about you, but I'm going to bed," and led him to her tiny bedroom and its single bed.

She was twenty-five and he was eighteen. He looked older and she looked younger. If he was old for his years it was in no small part because he had skipped his senior year of high school and been packed off to college at fifteen by less than doting parents. He was in fact weeks away from receiving his bachelors just prior to his nineteenth birthday. 

She was just one of those women who had the genes, bone structure and carriage of a younger woman and he assumed it would serve her well in maturity. She was in graduate school, doctoral level, psychology he seemed to recall. He was studying one of the more traditional, "hard" sciences. 

Used to the concept of sex — if it was going to happen at all---occurring after several dates and following all sorts of mysterious hints and wordless signals, her boldness took him by surprise but he had no intention of complaining about it or getting hung up on it. He was eighteen and about to get laid by a strikingly attractive and experienced woman. It was best to just "go with the flow". 

She was certainly more experienced than he was. While he had only fucked two other women, he more than made up for his lack of experience with enthusiasm, a willingness to be guided, staying power and an above average sized and seemingly perpetually hard young cock. He could fuck, cum and fuck again without losing his erection...not that remarkable for a healthy, physically fit eighteen year old. 

It was that very proclivity which had marked the beginning of the end of his most recent relationship with a small college town golden tanned debutant, following a lusty double fuck during what for her was supposed to have been a "romantic" picnic. She had soon after declared in a fit of theatrical anger that he didn't "love" her and was only interested in her body. He'd found it hard to argue convincingly with her. He didn't lie very well. 

Still the vivid Technicolor™ memory of fucking the nubile young beauty in the traditional way which she seemed to prefer and during which she hardly responded with enthusiasm and then repositioning her on her knees with her head down and milky white butt cheeks high in the air and then banging her hard like a bitch in heat with no cuddle interval made him smile. 

She had squealed, grunted, whimpered. She had screamed "fuck me" and was more vocal and animated than was her habit. She had cum at least once and possibly twice which was unusual for her. The second time had been a marathon for both of them in terms of duration, certainly for him and most probably for her. 

So what was the problem he had wondered? True it had been the first time they has just fucked with no pretense of, "making love". She'd enjoyed it and gotten off. Perhaps it had been more about what the episode revealed of her inner workings than about him. He had brought out a side of her that she wasn't willing to accept or embrace. At least he had the memory to jerk off to in the months since their break up. 

He and the long, cool blonde with the perfect posterior on the other side of the door weren't strangers. He had met her two or three months earlier at a camera shop which he frequented where she worked part-time. She had been dating and fucking a friend of his, a man several years his senior who he knew from his own part-time employment at the local daily newspaper. That relationship seemed to have passed, evidently without major hard feelings. It had been brief, a matter of a few weeks. 

He had liked her immediately. Perhaps she wasn't his type but she captured his attention. She was very bright and engaging and cute with her soft blonde hair, quick, mischievous smile, tight, long, athletic body and perky tits. Her round little rump, straining against the fabric of her strategically faded denim jeans had become the object of more than one masturbatory fantasy. 

She had seemed interested. She listened attentively when he spoke, made eye contact, touched his hand or arm and flipped her tresses. He had demurred in view of the relationship she apparently had with his friend. He wasn't sure what made him stop by her apartment the previous evening. Perhaps it had been the hints of flirtation in their previous relatively brief encounters. She had been surprised to see him but certainly not disappointed. 

He had made up some lame excuse about looking for their mutual friend. She had made it clear that she not only had no idea where he might be but that their brief relationship had ended. She invited him inside for a beer with no pretense. Like any sane and perpetually horny eighteen year old he had assented without protest.

Their first fuck had included its share of fumbling in the dark on the obscenely small bed with the overly soft mattress. There had been a sense of urgency in their first coupling. He needed to get off and she needed "comfort". Still, a young man's third fuck partner in less than a year was unlikely to have been unfulfilling. For, him it had been quite thrilling. This was a real woman, not another tentative and inexperienced eighteen-year-old girl. She was far more responsive than his previous two partners had been and more vocal. She was experienced; she had fucked before, evidently often, liked fucking and knew what she needed. 

She had taken his rock hard young organ in her hot, wet and accommodating mouth within seconds. He had cum quickly. She had swallowed his load then whispered in his ear, "That was nice, thank you for cumming in my mouth baby." He had kissed her, finding the remains of his own essence arousing. The fact that he wanted to kiss her after she blew him seemed to please her. 

His mouth had trailed down her body in search of the expected target. She had guided his efforts and provided softly spoken direction. He was a quick learner. She came in short order, pushing her soft mound into his mouth, caressing his blond locks. The release of her built up womanly secretions had excited him. He had stayed on target and quickly brought her to a second, longer orgasm. 

They had then fucked in a traditionally face-to-face position. Hers was without a doubt the hottest pussy he had ever experienced. He mused that perhaps this was the first woman he had screwed who wanted — needed — to fuck as much as he did as opposed to doing so because it was expected as he supposed it had been with his previous two partners

They dozed. He awoke some time later to discover that she was between his legs, licking his balls and flicking her hard little tongue over his ass hole while slowly stroking his engorged young prick. She had advanced to teasing the proud head. In the moonlight which filtered in through the single window he caught her grin as she made eye contact. She was a very pretty young woman. The prominent swell of her firm young rump distracted him for a moment. Neither of his previous partners had an ass like that, so perfectly rounded, firm and alluring. 

He sat up and she readjusted her body to give his hand access to her glistening little cunt. They evolved into a classic side-by-side sixty-nine. He lifted her lower body, placing her steamy pussy and perfect butt over his face. Her scent was intoxicating and his breathing became ragged. She thrust her pelvis slightly forward, which served to move her tight little pucker right in front of his mouth. His extreme state of arousal overcame any previous distaste he might have had for what naturally followed. Quickly he was caressing her dank hole with his lips and tongue, allowing the later to first dart inside and then to penetrate that forbidden place in earnest. She moaned and uttered ragged, whispered commands. "Yes, there, very nice ... oh, yes ... please ... don't stop ... fuck my ass with your tongue, baby!" 

He sensed that her own slim fingers were engaged in her slippery slot but his own arousal was so extreme that he could have cared less. She began to move faster, moaning, cajoling, and encouraging before cumming with a muffled scream as she buried her head in a pillow.

As her orgasm subsided, she returned to her excellent oral attention of his rock hard organ. He would discover in short order that she loved sucking cock — loved every aspect of it, including the protein rich reward at the end. As much as he relished her oral talents he wanted something else, quickly indicating his preferences by moving over her, engulfing her long, hard, flawless body with his own and caressing her neck with his lips as his hands roamed over her soft, warm flesh.

She turned to kiss him, then spoke a single word: "bathroom." He released her to attend to her nature call.

She returned in short order, turning on the small desk light as she passed, bathing the room in a soft glow. She was one of those women who looks even better naked than in clothes. She kissed him, plopped on her stomach, placed a pillow under her hips, made eye contact and spoke.

"You are a wonderful lover! If you're up for it — oh, yes you certainly are! I love it like this from behind ... hard ... hold me tight ... don't let me escape ... not that I would ... but we can pretend, can't we? And, and, unless you don't want to ... grosses you out ... fuck me up the ass. You don't have to, I won't be upset if you don't want to but just in case, I'm squeaky clean back there and lubricated. I've never had a cock as big as yours there ... anywhere ... here ... you'll need this if you decide to ... lots of it ... again if you're not sure ..." 

Her use of the phrase, fuck me up the ass had excited him. There was nothing squeamish or tentative in that particular choice of words. No code words, hardly a clinical depiction, no beating around the bush: "fuck me up the ass" made things clear. In their time together, she never used phrases such as anal sex, "the other way" or engaged in subtleties when she wanted to be butt fucked. She never asked him, she always told him: fuck me up the ass. He in turn learned to be every bit as direct in stating his desires and intentions. 

He answered her wordlessly by moving behind her and burying his face in the tight crevice of her firm young buttocks and resuming his earlier oral attention to her tightly wound muscle. She squealed with delight. 

"I think that's the answer I was hoping for. Wait! In the drawer on the right ... top drawer...my 'best friends'." 

He retrieved the single object in the drawer in question, a small velvet clad box. It contained two objects, one a silver egg shaped device with a wire leading to a small battery pack, the other was a tapered anal toy. She rolled over and grinned l as he examined her toys. She spread her small labia and stroked her inner treasures.

"Pour a liberal amount of lube on the egg and I'll ... unless you want to do the honors? I need a little electric augmentation when I take a man in my ass ... you'll enjoy the feeling too." 

He obliged, finding the process of inserting the smooth egg inside the young beauty to be perhaps the most erotic experience he had ever enjoyed. When he had finished, she reached up and kissed him again, and rolled back over. 

"Our mutual friend did not get off on anal. He found it revolting, in his words. It's been a while since I've been fucked back there, hence the other toy in the box. I'm going to need a bit of gentle 'resizing' if I'm going to take your fat cock inside my rectum without discomfort. Are you sure you're up for this?"

"No problem."

"Good," she said. "No, wait! We need to get some things straight before you sodomize me. I'm, what, six or seven years older than you are? Hopefully you feel some affection for me, I certainly do for you. But let's be realistic, we're not going steady, we're not going to get engaged, married or produce rug rats in some idyllic suburban paradise with a white picket fence. I already know from your performance to date that I want to fuck you again and I'm damn near positive you feel the same way."

It was hard for him to listen when all he wanted to do was go back to fucking her, but he waited for her to go on. 

"I know more about your sexual history from our mutual friend than you probably realize. I almost never fuck without a rubber. As much as I hate the feel, I've no interest in getting a disease. I took a gamble with you, because I'm of the belief that I'm only the third woman you've had sex with and you don't have a habit of sticking your dick where it doesn't belong. Let's see, what was her name? Suzy? You dated and fucked her for what, about six months? It ended three months ago and you haven't gotten laid since? How am I doing so far

"Right as rain."

"Our mutual friend, on the other hand, never got his cock inside my body without protection. He has a reputation for some skanky encounters but he can be fun. So here's the deal: I don't care who you date or even who you fuck. Jealously will never be a part of any relationship that may ensue between us. If you want to go out with someone else, just tell me and I'll commit to the same. You have no claims on me in that regard either, beyond honesty. I demand absolute honesty. 

"But we make a pack right here and now: no unprotected sex except between you and me as long as we mutually decide to continue this relationship, if we in fact do so. As far as sex goes, I'm pretty damn sure you can make me happier, sexually, than anyone else I've ever fucked. If you ever want to know my sexual history, I'll give you every gritty detail. I'm also damn sure I can ring your chimes like no woman you could even imagine. When it's time to end it, we end it. And in a perfect world, we stay friends. Deal?" 

"Sure, why not?"

"Our mutual friend makes fun of you. He admires and has a tremendous amount of respect for you, for being the most honest guy and the worst liar he has ever met. I hope he is right. For the record, I first got fucked up the ass as an eighteen-year-old high school senior by my guidance counselor. It hurt. He didn't use enough lube, just spit. He didn't want to risk getting me pregnant and I was okay with that. 

"The second time was by the band director — I played the flute — after a New Years day football game. He had experience, and lubrication, and while it wasn't perfect I found it exciting and I came with a man's dick in my ass, a man old enough to be my father. Most guys aren't into it; a lot don't understand how uncomfortable it can be for the girl if they're not careful. From the excellent head you provided a couple of hours ago I know you take instruction well, so if you're up for it, pay attention to my directions." 

"Okay, I'm fine with that. One question, though. Can we do it facing each other?"

"Why?" She gave him an odd look and waited for his answer.

"I don't know, but anal sex seems pretty...intimate? I guess I just want to be able to watch your face and know if I'm doing it in a way that pleases you...kiss you?"

"Oh, my! You are too good to be true! I think I like it both ways. Sometimes the anonymity of being butt fucked from behind has a certain allure, to both parties. What would work the best for me is to start from the rear and then we can transition to the other way. Look, I like to role-play, to pretend. Having a man who is strong and can control me, fuck me up the ass from behind probably fulfills some sort of sick anal rape fantasy for me. That's the clinical psychology education rearing its ugly head. After I get off that way, you're more than welcome to roll me over and make love to me. Is that what you had in mind? I'd like that. It would be a new experience for me. Most guys get so into fucking my hot, tight little ass that they don't have the discipline to hold off so they can turn me over and kiss me while they're cumming in my ass. That is very important! You have to, absolutely have to, cum in my ass." 

"Yes sir." He smirked and gave a half salute as he spoke.

"You're funny."

"And you are quite adorable."

"Watch it stud! Words like adorable lead to words like love and all the messy things that go with it."

"Are we going to talk till sun rise or fuck?" he had said with a grin, emboldened by her frankness.

"Ah, there are those astounding eighteen year old hormones kicking in! Go for it tiger! I'd appreciate a little more tongue. Then a finger, and another, the probe, then that fat cock of yours, all the way up my ass. Make me your own personal anal fuck slut, doing me dirty, my special back door man. Oh, yes, very nice!"she said as they got in position. "Finger now ... another ... slow with that rubber mother fucker ... more lube ... okay ... cold but effective. Enough of that, I need some hot young cock ... slow ... uh! Oh, that is one big cock head. Slow ... very slow, very nice. Okay, slow in an out ... all the way in, all the way out. Uh, huh, Jesus I swear you're getting bigger in my ass ... ohhh ..." 

He rolled her over without a word, and re-centered on the target, knowing that in spite of his previous orgasms, youth and concentration, that he would not---could not---last more than a few seconds longer in her hot, tight furnace. She sensed it.

"Now! I need to feel you cum! Don't hold back. Oh, baby, I feel you getting harder. Yes, that's it! Now! Cum for me sweet baby!" 

He silenced her with his lips, thrust balls deep inside her and came with more intensity than he could ever recall before in his young life. He whimpered, holding on to her frantically, pulling her body tight against his own, making love to her as she and responded with the same affection he felt at that instant. 

He felt a special tenderness and caring for this woman he hardly knew whose bowels he had just plundered. They had shared more than an intimate sexual encounter. They hadn't played any games; they had been brutally honest regarding the essence of their relationship. Something about the level of candor between them that he'd never before shared with a member of the opposite sex made this woman very special and exciting.

For her part, she had the same fleeting thoughts but quickly brushed them aside. Good sex, great fucking sex, he's a nice guy, not an ass hole. He's cute and smart.  In her chats with him at the camera store, she had decided that he was someone she might enjoy getting to know as a friend. 

She hoped he didn't get stupid and fuck things up. She assumed he would be around for a couple of years attending graduate school. She expected to spend roughly the same time in the area completing her doctorate, not that she expected that "they" would last that long. Shit, he was seven or at least six and change years her junior. She knew he wasn't in the same discipline at the university that she was in and doubted that they really had very much in common other than those familiar words from that song...Eagles?

Life in the Fast Lane? What was it they had in common? They were both good in bed. No question there. He was talented and well equipped, gentle but also all man. Under her tutelage, he would just get better. As a series of older men had educated her, she would teach him the finer points of great sex. When it ended, hopefully amiably, he would make some lucky little girl very, very happy.


Life in the Fast Lane



"I'm in the mood for something different today, Honey." Shanna didn't worry about being overheard as she approached the slim young woman with the buzz-cut bleach-blonde hair and the tribal tats. The music in the club was so loud that any potential narc would have to get right up next to them to hear, and Honey's private booth gave her a good view of anyone approaching.

Honey eyed Shanna as the strobing lights of the club flashed off of her piercings (six in each ear, two lip, one nose, one belly, and one on her clit that Shanna had no intentions of ever letting Honey see.) Honey's eyes traveled down her belly shirt, over her mini-skirt, and down to her Doc Martins. "No small talk? No 'Hi, Honey, how's tricks?' No 'Check it out, I just got my hair dyed, does purple look good on me?' It hurts, Shanna. It hurts deep."

Shanna gave her a peck on the cheek as she sat down at the table. "Aw, you know I loves ya." It was true, to the extent that a girl could love her dealer. Shanna didn't use the hard stuff, so she didn't have to go to any of the creepy connections. Honey was social, reliable, and pretty cool; even if Shanna did sometimes feel like she was getting sized up a little, Honey never tried to make a "drugs for sex" deal. She knew Shanna didn't swing that way.

Honey tried to keep her mock-glare up, but it collapsed into a wry grin after a moment. "Alright, you're off the hook. This time. So what does 'different' mean? You're an E-girl, usually. So different means a little Nexus, or maybe some Hippieflip? Help me out here."

Shanna shrugged. "I dunno. I just want to feel something new, you know? Coming in here every weekend, dropping E every Friday and Saturday night, it's starting to get dull. I want a new thrill, that's all. Something I've never felt before."

Honey got a wicked grin on her face. "Now that, I can handle." She pulled out a small bottle of purple pills, and shook one out. It was tiny in her hand. "Latest thing from a friend of mine in the pharmaceutical industry. They call it 'Yes'. It makes you feel good all over, baby."

Shanna looked down at the pill. "For how long?"

"One pill? A few hours. You want?"

Shanna nodded. "How much?"

"Twenty bucks." Money changed hands, and Shanna popped the pill into her mouth. She crushed it between her teeth. It tasted like black liquorice.

"You're a living doll," she said, getting up and giving Honey another peck on the cheek. "I'm gonna go see how it feels on the dance floor." She waved, turned, and gave Honey a nice look at her buns as she headed back to the main action.

'Yes' worked fast, Shanna thought. She was already feeling a pleasant tingle all through her body as she danced. More than just pleasant. It felt like being cocooned in pleasure. Like sinking into warm water, right up to her hair. She could just imagine her hair, floating around her head like a halo, and it felt good. The drug made it hard to think, but that just seemed even cooler. Like she could just feel the music, feel the warmth, and let go of everything. The room was getting darker; Shanna could feel her iris contract, actually feel it as her pupils just became tiny little pinpoints in the center of her eyes. This was awesome. Dark, warm, and happy all over.

A man came up to her and looked her in the eyes. "You want to dance?" he said.

That sounded great. Shanna nodded, her head just bobbing loosely on the end of her neck. She moved in closer to the guy, and the two of them just grooved to the music. "You can move in even closer," he said, and that sounded just great to Shanna. Everything seemed to be just perfect right now. She pressed her body against his, and the two of them ground against each other until the song ended.

"Come on," he said. "Let me buy you a drink." That sounded great. Honey hadn't said anything about how the drug interacted with alcohol, or whether it was safe, but this guy was offering her a drink, and it seemed like such a good idea once he'd mentioned it. The two of them headed over to the bar, and when he handed her a glass, Shanna downed it without even thinking. Because thinking felt too hard.

"Let's go outside for a bit of fresh air," he said. That sounded great. Shanna just let him lead her along, out the back entrance of the club and into the alley. For a moment, the thought flitted into her head that she should find out this guy's name, but another warm, wet current of 'Yes' sluiced the thought right out of her brain. It probably wasn't important. Shanna felt like she could just drift on 'Yes' forever, and anything she did would be great.

The guy led her to a few of his friends, over in the corner of a dimly-lit parking lot . "Check out her eyes," he said to them. Then, to her, he said, "Show them your eyes." That sounded great. Shanna walked over to each of them in turn, showing them how her pupils were just dots. It was hard to make out their faces in the semi-darkness, and the way her pupils had contracted made it even harder to see, but she didn't care about who they were. She didn't really care about anything. She was floating right now on easy pleasure, and whatever happened, happened.

"Damn," one of them said. "Just like that girl last week. Hey, let's see if this works. You, girl. Take off your shirt." That sounded great. Shanna peeled off her shirt, exposing her breasts to the warm night air. 'Yes' amplified the sensations of the breeze on her nipples. A tiny bubble of thought let her wonder how sex would feel on 'Yes', right before it popped.

"Suh-weet!" another guy shouted. "Take off all those clothes, girl!" That sounded great. Shanna slid off the mini-skirt, pulled down her panties, even kicked off her socks and shoes. She just stood there, naked in front of four guys, and it all just felt so good.

One of the others went off to keep an eye out for the cops, while the first guy bent her over against the hood of his car, and started pounding his dick into her twat. It felt so fucking perfect to Shanna, like every sensation was just magnified, like her clit was growing down there to the size of a fist, and everything rubbed against everything else so good. Even her nipples felt good rubbing against the car; the windshield caught the reflection of the streetlights, and Shanna just looked at the image, absolutely rapt with pleasure. She could feel the guy coming inside her, like every single sperm he had was giving her a little massage. It all just felt so fucking good.

Another guy said, "Suck my dick, girl," and that sounded just great to Shanna. She got down on her knees and just went to town, sucking and licking on his dick, using her hands, wondering why she hadn't thought of doing this before. These guys had such great ideas, everything they said seemed to be something she wanted to do, and even the things they did to her without saying anything, like the third guy slipping it to her from behind, they felt so awesome. She felt like she was on a non-stop orgasm, just riding the currents of 'Yes' and everything felt so good, so fucking good.

The fourth guy got his turn, doing her up the ass, and even though Shanna had never tried that before, it felt fucking awesome when he did it. They were such awesome guys, they even told her to get dressed before they peeled out of the parking lot. She just sat there on the ground, smiling blankly, and it all just felt so good...

*****

"Another hit of 'Yes'?" Honey asked, rattling the little bottle of pills in her hand.

Shanna held up her hand. "No thank you," she said with gusto. "That stuff is killer. I swear, I would have done anything last night." She sat down. "I practically did do anything with some guys out in the parking lot. I'm just lucky they didn't ask me for my wallet, I probably would have just handed it over. It all just seemed so..." She reflected back on that state of warm, easy bliss. "It just seemed so easy to do what I was told, y'know? That's a dangerous drug to drop."

"Sure, when you're not careful." Honey put her hand on Shanna's. "You have to watch who you party with when you're on this stuff, that's all. I tell you what. You try another hit, and I'll keep an eye on you to make sure you don't get into trouble."

Shanna wished that didn't sound like such a good idea all of a sudden, but when Honey said that, Shanna's mind just flashed back to the liquid pleasure that filled her brain when the drug kicked in, and she found herself nodding almost without intending to. Honey shook out another pill, but Shanna held up her hand. "Wait," she said. "Let me think about this for a second."

Honey rolled her eyes. "What's there to think about? This stuff feels great, you loved the way it felt last night, so just pop one and I'll look after you. I'll keep you away from any sleazy guys, and you just focus on feeling good."

"I..." Shanna wasn't quite sure she could trust Honey with her body any more than she could trust some sleazy guy, but she had to admit, 'Yes' did feel better than anything else she'd ever tried. She could almost feel the echoes of that warm, drifting sensation in her brain...she grabbed the pill out of Honey's hand and popped it in her mouth before she chickened out.

It seemed to kick in even quicker this time. She just felt all her muscles relaxing, like she was melting into a puddle of bliss where she sat. Her pupils contracted, like before, and it seemed like Honey was just fading into deeper shadow while she stared at her, the room darkening until it seemed like Honey was just part of the darkness. All Shanna could see were the club lights reflecting off of Honey's eyes. They seemed to gleam, getting bigger as Honey leaned in.

"Let's go for a walk," Honey whispered, right in her ear. "I've got a back room we can go to with a little bed in it." That sounded great, and Shanna just felt like she was floating to her feet. The two of them walked through the club, hand in hand, and it all just felt like pure joy to her. She felt like she was glowing with pleasure now, the drug flowing through her bloodstream like a wave of ecstasy--she could practically feel her blood move through her body, and every current was a current of 'Yes', and now she understood why the drug was called that. It felt so good to say yes, so good to just float on the drug and go along with the current.

"Take your clothes off," Honey said as they went into the small room, and it felt so good to Shanna to understand now that all she needed to do was go along with that suggestion. She just let her clothes pile up on the floor, because Honey's words just seemed to make so much sense to her, her suggestions were all things Shanna felt like she'd wanted to do all her life, and it just felt perfectly natural, perfectly normal to her. Honey was taking her clothes off too, Shanna noticed. So it must be normal. Honey reached over and flicked Shanna's clit piercing, a predatory gleam in her eyes, and the sensations practically made her fall to her knees with pleasure.

"Go ahead and put your face between my thighs," Honey said as she lay down on the bed, her legs spread, "and start licking my cunt. I'll tell you when to stop." That sounded great. Shanna got onto the bed and leaned in close to Honey's pussy, inhaling the scent of her musk, and even though Shanna hadn't ever planned to get this close to a woman in her life, it smelled so good to her...smelled and tasted, she almost-thought, dipping her tongue into Honey's cleft. All the sensations, taste and smell and touch...she could feel Honey's juices, slick and dripping off her chin as she just kept licking and licking, and it felt so good to just flow with the drug in her bloodstream, with Honey's oh-so-sensible suggestions...taste and smell and touch and sound, Honey was moaning now, a soft, keening moan as she shook under Shanna's mouth, and Shanna could tell that the pleasure in Honey's twat was growing more insistent, but nothing could feel as good as tripping on 'Yes', it just made Shanna want to lick faster and harder and better and suddenly Honey's low moans turned into loud grunts of pleasure, and Shanna could actually taste it when Honey came, and it tasted so fucking good, everything was so fucking good...

She kept licking, though. Honey hadn't told her to stop.

*****

Shanna woke up the next morning, still nestled in Honey's arms. For a long, blank moment, she just enjoyed the sensation of being cuddled up to warm flesh, before the memories of last night dropped into her head and she let out a shriek. She pushed herself violently out of the bed, flopping messily onto the floor as she searched for her clothes in the dark room.

Honey turned on the lamp by the bed. "Hey, baby," she said. "What's wrong?"

Shanna grabbed her shirt from the pile of clothes and pulled it on. "You! You're wrong, you, you...goddamnit! I trusted you, and you just..."

Honey laughed. "Yeah. I did. And I'm going to do it again."

Shanna pulled on her panties. "The fuck you are! I'm never touching that shit again!"

Honey reached for her jacket, lying on the floor, and pulled the little bottle of pills out of it. "Yeah, about that, Shanna...there's something about 'Yes' I probably should have mentioned to you. See, when that friend of mine was testing it on human subjects, he found out that some of the chemicals in it don't metabolize in the human body. They just migrate to the tissues of the brain. They interfere with some of the chemical receptors, and build up there." Shanna paused, her jeans half-way on. "The more you take, the more it builds up."

"Yeah, well..." Shanna stared at the bottle as the pills inside it rattled around. She morbidly imagined the chemicals inside migrating up to her brain, short-circuiting it, frying her mind... "I'm not taking any more of that shit, so I don't have to worry about it doing anything to me."

"Oh, I think you do," Honey said, shaking out another purple pill. "You've already taken two hits of it, Shanna. Those chemicals haven't actually gone away. They've built up in your brain, in the specific receptors that activate when you listen to and evaluate suggestions. That's why you took that second pill. I told you to do it, and even though you knew it was probably a bad idea, when you thought about what I was telling you to do, it released a little burst of pleasure, a little echo of your 'Yes' high, and you couldn't stop yourself from doing what you were told. And now you've taken two hits, Shanna. It's going to feel even better when I tell you what to do now. You're going to have an even harder time resisting the urge to do what I say."

Shanna grabbed her shoes and socks and headed for the door. "I'm getting the fuck out of--"

"Wait." Shanna knew she shouldn't stop for even a second, knew that Honey could make her do things she didn't want to do and that she needed to get out of here right now, but it just suddenly felt so good to let her feet come to a stop with her hand on the doorknob, it was like a sexual rush to just relax, stand there and keep listening.

"That's a good girl. Now come over here and sit on the bed with me." Shanna tried to fight it now, tried to focus on how important it was to move her legs in the opposite direction from the one they were going in, but she just felt this languid, warm pleasure walking back to the bed, like wading through warm water, and when she sat down, it felt like she was relaxing into a hot tub. Shanna could feel her absolute stark panic, but it was buried under the pleasure.

"You want to take another pill, Shanna." No, she...ohh, she did, but she had to stop herself from doing it, they were...the more she took, the harder it would be to stop, the more she took, the easier it would be for Honey to make her take more, the more she took, the more she'd want to take...she could picture herself in a few months' time, a burnt-out zombie, following Honey around and doing whatever she was told... "You know I'm mindfucking you into wanting it, but you want it anyway."

Honey held the pill out between her thumb and forefinger, but as Shanna reached for it, unable to stop herself, Honey said "Wait," again, and Shanna froze, her eyes fixated on the pill that she knew, absolutely knew was going to put her even deeper under Honey's control, but that she wanted so bad anyway. She felt like it was a deadly snake, hypnotizing her before it pumped her full of poison. "Beg me for it."

Shanna felt hot tears coursing down her cheeks. She wanted the pill, but she didn't want to want it. She wanted to beg, but she wanted so badly not to want to beg as she heard the words spill out of her mouth in a mindless babble of need, "please, please give me the pill, i need it so bad, need to taste it in my mouth, need to feel that bliss, oh god, please, you've made me want it and i can't stop myself, please please please please..." She hated Honey for enjoying this, but it didn't stop her from wanting do what Honey said.

Honey nodded. Shanna grabbed the pill out of her hand, and shoved it in her mouth. She was utterly terrified. She knew that she'd never be free if she didn't stop herself, right now. She had to stop. She had to stop. She had to stop.

There was a tiny crunching sound. Slowly, Shanna's mouth filled with the taste of black liquorice.

THE END



Life in the Fast Lane



:Oh god, he's cute.:

I've always had a visceral attraction to the paramedic uniform. The fitted navy blue and the red trim of the medic badges catches my eye, but what always does me in is the cocky swagger that seems to come standard with the job. I love medicine, but critical care terrifies me. The fact that these people can save lives in the field, and deal with physical and emotional trauma on a daily basis...they have my highest respect.

The boy standing in front of me with a clipboard looked new to it. He had the lifted chin and straight shoulders of a dominant male, but the way his eyes darted around the room showed his unfamiliarity with this hospital and its staff. He tossed his head to get his jaw-length blonde hair out of his face, and his blue eyes settled on me.

After a short intake of breath, I twisted my face into some semblance of professionalism and walked over. "What have you got?"

He was tall enough to have to tilt his head to look down at me. "A possible stroke. Are you the doctor?"

"No, but I can get her for you." I turned on my heel and ran to find my attending.

As the stretcher was wheeled in, I registered the height and build of the two older medics, but turned my attention to the rapid fire questions from the ER doctor to the patient's family members.

Shortly after, the patient was whisked to the CT scanner. I looked up from my notes to see the blond young medic looking over his shoulder at me. I smiled, and he walked over.

"Sorry if I was rude earlier. You must be a medical student."

"It's not a problem. But if you'd like to buy me a drink, I'll allow it."

He blushed, and looked at his coworkers. They caught his glance, and immediately came over. "Who's this, Adrien?"

I stuck out my hand. "I'm Kat. Fourth year medical student."

"Ooh, fresh meat!" said one. The other man, clearly the older of the three, grasped my hand firmly. He said nothing, but slowly looked me up and down, then smiled. It wasn't quite friendly, but it sent a shock down my spine.

I started to feel both flustered and annoyed. I brusquely wrote my cell phone number on a business card and handed it to Adrien. "Nice to meet you. Call me if you want to get a drink later." And for the second time that day, I whirled around and walked away.

We met for drinks later that night. Adrien was friendly but quiet. After about an hour, I started to feel tired. I got up to leave. He nervously offered to walk me to my car. I declined, but reassured him that I'd love to meet again sometime.

Exhausted, I pushed through the doors and walked across the parking lot. I looked down at my phone for a few moments, and walked straight into a broad, muscular chest.

I started back. It was the medic who'd called me "fresh meat." He had dark hair slicked back with just a little too much gel. His eyes were a dark brown and he looked down at me with a smirk. "Leaving so soon?"

I tried to step around him, smiling politely and mumbling an excuse. He stuck out his hand. "I'm sorry I didn't introduce myself earlier. I'm Clay."

As I placed my hand in his, I heard the door to the bar open behind me.

"Clay, don't!"

I tried to turn. I caught a glimpse of Adrien behind me with a panicked look on his face, but Clay still held my right hand. Adrenaline flashed through me and I tried to pull away. Clay's other hand shot to my wrist and squeezed, hard. Before I could scream, he'd pulled me roughly against him and covered my mouth. I went still, unable to think, and stared wide-eyed at Adrien.

"Clay-" he began.

"Shut up," Clay said. "Let's go."

Around the corner of the bar, the ambulance was running. Adrien opened the door and Clay dragged me inside. I felt the ambulance move under me as Clay pushed me to a seated position on the gurney. He let me go and leaned against the wall, arms crossed.

"Here's the thing, sweetheart. We can do this the easy way or the hard way. You're a beautiful woman, and we'd like to see you with a little less clothing on."

I lunged across the van at him, clawing and hitting as hard as I could. I managed to rake my nails across his cheekbones. He cursed and grabbed my wrists, effortlessly holding them both in one hand. With the other, he backhanded me full across the face.

"Bitch!" He touched the scratches on his cheek and came away bloody. He laughed. "Oh, this is going to be great."

He pulled me off the gurney and pushed me to my knees. Adrien wordlessly handed him a length of rope and watched as Clay would it around and between my wrists. He slung the rope over a hook in the ceiling and yanked my arms up over my head.

"Strip her."

Adrien knelt in front of me and pulled out the shears that medics use to cut seatbelts and clothes away from trauma patients. He studiously avoided meeting my eye.

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

He looked up at me then, and his blue eyes locked with mine. I'm sorry, he mouthed. He slid the cold shears down the front of my shirt and cut.

When he was done, I was naked except for my the thin, red lace underwear covering my pussy. My arms were stretched out above me and my knees splayed apart on the cold metal floor. Adrien stood and stared down at me and a smile started to play over the corners of his mouth. Then he looked over at Clay.

I could hear Clay behind me, but I still flinched when his hand clamped down on the back of my neck. The warm, firm grip made me feel calmer, somehow. Clay knelt in front of me and ran his thumb over my lips.

"Gorgeous. Just gorgeous. We're going to get along great. Now then. Adrien's new to the team, so he's going to go first. He's a little shy, a little nervous, but I bet he won't be able to stop himself from putting his cock in your mouth. Are you, Adrien?" 

Adrien flushed, bright red, but shook his head and started fumbling with the buttons on his uniform.

"Now, I'm sure you know how to do this, but I'm going to be right here watching to make sure everything goes well. And if you think you can get away with using your teeth, think again. Trust me, you'll regret it." Clay's hand slid from the back of my neck to the front, and squeezed lightly. "You understand?"

I nodded.

"Open your mouth."

I hesitated. Clay's hand squeezed a little harder. I nervously licked my lips, then parted them.

Adrien hurriedly slid his pants and underwear down, revealing a fully erect dick. He looked down at me, still blushing, and stepped closer. He reached up and touched my bound wrists with one hand, then slid his penis between my lips.

"Suck it," Clay said from behind me.

I obliged.

"Harder."

I got to work. It wasn't so bad, really. He was clean, soft, and averagely sized. I firmly ran my tongue across the underside of his cock. He moaned, and his head dropped back. I felt a brief thrill of satisfaction. If it wasn't for the rope around my wrists, and the hand on my neck, it might have felt like a normal date.

Adrien started to breathe harder, and thrust his hips forward. I lunged back, jerking my head away.

"Tsk tsk." Clay laughed. I glanced up at Adrien; his eyes were glazed and he was panting. Clay held the back of my neck as Adrien rushed to slide back into my mouth. Without warning, Clay shoved my head forward, pressing Adrien's cock into the back of my throat. I gagged, made a muffled protest, and struggled for air. Clay didn't let up, and Adrien began to thrust hard against the increased pressure. I could just barely suck in air between thrusts. I tried frantically to relax the muscles of my throat, but gagged again and again, my eyes watering.

Adrien grunted. "Oh, god," he moaned. "Oh, fuck."

"That's it, slut." Clay growled in my ear. I heard a rustling behind me and realized Clay must be touching himself. Adrien's cock pressed deeper and deeper into my throat.

"I'm going to cum," he croaked.

"No, you're not," Clay said in a low voice. "Control yourself."

Adrien stopped thrusting, his dick still buried in my throat. He panted hard, then slowly pulled out. I gasped for air.

"Nicely done." Clay took his hand off my neck and pulled the rope down. I slumped back against him, still breathing hard. "Help me lift her."

They picked me up and threw me face down over the edge of the gurney. Clay deftly pushed my legs open and wrapped a set of thick straps around each leg, spreading them apart and binding them tightly. My feet still touched the floor, but just barely.

Adrien untied the rope from my hands. Gently, he pulled my arms behind my back, then strapped them there. I felt a flash of anger when I realized these were the same restraints used for combative psychiatric patients.

Adrien stepped in front of me and ran his hands through my hair. "God, you look beautiful," he breathed. His grip tightened in my hair, and he pulled my head up. He slowly rubbed the head of his cock against my lips, then thrust it into my mouth again. I closed my eyes and relaxed my jaw, fighting the urge to gag and clamp down with my teeth.

Suddenly, I felt Clay run his hands over my ass. I twitched and struggled against my restraints. My heart sank as I realized how helpless I was. I tried to yell, but my voice was muffled by Adrien's cock.

Clay pulled my underwear down over my hips. He laughed. "Protest all you want, sugar. You're soaking wet." He grabbed my hips and stepped closer to me. His bare cock pressed against my my ass and vulva. He was right; I was slick with fluid as he rubbed against me.

"Mmmf," Clay moaned. "I've been waiting for this all night."

He shoved his cock inside me.

I gasped. So did Adrien. His cock slammed into the back of my throat.

They paused.

Then they both began to fuck me, hard. I was pinned between them, hard pressure slamming into me from both sides. I struggled at first, trying to close my legs and pull my head free. But Adrien's hands firmly clasped the back of my neck, his previous qualms clearly forgotten. And there was no reprieve from Clay's cock. He pounded into me, pressing my thighs apart and slamming into the front of my cunt.

I gave up. Went limp and boneless. Surrendered to the constant pressure and the feelings of helplessness. Focused only catching my breath. Everything else faded away into the rocking sensation of their cocks pressing into me. It seemed to go on for hours. 

Some time later, I felt the ambulance slow beneath me and roll to a stop. Heavy steps came from the front of the rig, and I felt a strong hand slide down my spine and over my hips. My eyes snapped open and I tried to raise my head. I had forgotten about the silent driver.

He knelt next to me. I felt the same frisson of unease that I'd felt when we met.

He was a broad-shouldered older man, with graying red hair, green eyes behind glasses, and a neatly groomed beard. He ran his hand through my hair and smiled.

"What a good girl."

I gagged on Adrien's cock, tears streaming from my eyes.

"That's it, sweetheart. You're doing just fine. " His hand slid to the back of my head.

Adrien was panting. "Oh God, Kat, oh...fuck...Craig, please..."

"Come on, then, boy." The driver, Craig, twined his hand in my hair and pressed my head forward. I held my breath as Adrien's cock slid into my throat. But rather than sliding out again, he pressed deeper. Blackness crept in at the edges of my vision.

"Craig..." A strangled moan came from behind me.

"You too, Clay," said the older man.

Adrien and Clay orgasmed together; Adrien crying out as his cum shot down my throat, and Clay grunting and pounding into me as he soaked my cunt.

I choked and gasped for air, and Adrien's cock slid out of my mouth. My body hung limp across the gurney. Through the haze of oxygen deprivation, I felt Clay pull out of my cunt and felt vaguely disappointed.

"Up front," Craig said. Adrien and Clay dressed and left. The engine started up, and the rig began to move again. I heard them laughing to each other as they drove.

Craig untied me and lifted my limp body into his arms, then slung me onto the gurney on my back. He deftly tied my hands over my head and gagged me with a strip of gauze. He undressed at the foot of the gurney, revealing a well-muscled torso and a large, erect cock.

I found the energy to struggle, then, closing my legs and pushing away from him. He laughed, and grabbed my ankles. With one quick tug, he pulled me back down, stretching me out across the length of the gurney. He sprang up and knelt over me.

"Open your legs, Kat."

I hesitated. Craig hit me in the mouth with the back of his hand. I bared my teeth at him and growled. He hit me again, then put his hand on my throat. My eyes widened and locked on his. After a moment, I took a deep, shaky breath, and spread my legs.

Craig lowered himself onto me and slid his erection between the folds of my vulva. I realized that my nether regions were still dripping wet. His cock stretched the opening of my cunt, hurting a little, and I whimpered. He paused.

Without any conscious input from my brain, my legs opened wider and my hips flexed up into the unyielding pressure. I became aware of a dull, aching throb spreading throughout my cunt. Craig smiled, his hand still on my throat. "Good girl." He slid further inside me, slowly, until his cock was buried deep inside me.

He shifted his hips so that his pubic bone was over my clit and pressed into me. I groaned, turning my head away and closing my eyes. A tear slid down my cheek. "Uh uh," he said, squeezing my throat. "Look at me."

I looked up at him. He started fucking me then, pulling out just a few inches and sliding into me with short, slow thrusts. I'd never fucked anyone with such a huge cock before; the insistent pressure made me feel weak and helpless. A warm, burning sensation began to spread throughout my pelvis. I was openly crying now, from the buildup of pain, fear, and now this unavoidable, undeniable sensation of being dominated.

He kept one hand on my throat and slid the other to my breasts. He squeezed and stroked them and ran his hand across my nipples. I gasped and arched my back under him. I stopped caring about the circumstances of how I got there; in fact, I stopped thinking consciously altogether. I pressed my hips upward and squeezed my cunt tightly around his cock.

Craig felt the totality of my surrender and let some of his restraint drop, matching my hunger with his own. He covered my mouth with his, kissing me fiercely and sliding his tongue between my teeth. His hand tightened ever so slightly on my windpipe. And his cock began to slide in and out of me harder and faster. I moaned deeply, though the sound was muffled by his mouth. I bit his lip and rocked my hips against him, feeling the slick moisture pouring out of me.

With little warning, I was caught up in an orgasm. My body shook and my cunt spasmed as the wave rolled over me. Craig didn't stop, but changed his thrusts. He slid almost all the way out of me, then slammed back in. He kept fucking me with long, hard strokes, pausing just long enough to make them unpredictable. I gasped and cried out incoherently each time, as the aftershocks of my first orgasm reverberated inside me. Before long, I came again.

Craig still didn't stop. My body was shaking and limp; sweat rolled off his shoulders. He kissed me again, roughly. "All right, my little slut. You've done well. I'm going to fuck you as hard as I can now, and come all over your nice hot cunt." He slid his arm under my head and grabbed a fistful of my hair. His hand at my throat tightened in earnest now, choking me enough to make me dizzy. In one motion, he yanked my head back and slammed his cock into me.

I felt fear, then, knowing that he had let go of whatever control he had. I gasped for air. My body felt like a ragdoll, loose and boneless as he rocked me back and forth on the gurney. He was truly pounding into me now, harder and faster than I'd ever been fucked before. Black spots blurred my vision, and my cunt ached. His cock rammed into me, making me feel like I might break. He made a low growling noise as he fucked me. With one final thrust, he buried his cock deep inside me, and I felt the hot, throbbing sensation as he came into me.

I gasped and choked as his grip on my throat relaxed. As my vision cleared, I saw Clay and Adrien peering around the corner from the cab. Craig reached up and deftly untied me. "Get dressed."

I did, trembling and stumbling as I put my clothes on. Craig dressed quickly and efficiently. "We're parked around the corner from your house. We're going to let you go now. We'll see you next week, and we'll keep these little meetings just between the four of us, right?"

I nodded, still shaking.

"Say goodnight to the boys. Give them each a kiss."

I stepped up to the front of the ambulance and kissed Clay. He grabbed the back of my neck roughly and shoved his tongue into my mouth, then laughed and stepped back. Adrien kissed me gently, and hugged me, stroking my hair.

Craig opened the back of the ambulance. "Until next time, then. Slut." He smacked my ass, hard, as I climbed out.

They drove away, leaving me stunned on the corner. I stood for a moment, breathing deeply. The cool night air made my head feel clear, my senses alert. :No,: I thought, :I won't tell anybody.: I felt my legs tremble and fluid drip from my cunt. Then I turned toward home.



Life in the Fast Lane



She chuckled to herself at the realization that she had never before fucked anyone younger than she was, let alone her own age or close to her own age. What the fuck, it wasn't as if she was an old lady. He was certainly mature for his age. Like most eighteen-year-old males, he could fuck at the drop of a hat, cum and fuck again without a break. 

There was something about a young cock that stood up so proudly at an almost vertical angle. His lack of experience would not prove to be an issue; she had more than enough experience for both of them. The day would come when he would want something more and understand that she would never be able to be anything more. He'd move on and probably fall in love. Enjoy it while it lasts, she mused. 

He would look back and marvel at how open and candid their dialogues involving sex had always been. While she had been that way from day one, he would quickly learn to avoid miscommunication. How many men engage in all sorts of ploys and lame subterfuge in order to get their partner to suck their cock? How many women respond intentionally obtusely perhaps to avoid appearing either too experienced or too slutty? 

How many wives after many years of marriage state unequivocally: "Don't go spending a lot of money on a birthday present for me. I have everything I need." Or, "Valentine's Day is just an excuse for Hallmark ™ to make money." Or, "After twenty years, I think we can dispense with anniversary celebrations." Or, "I love fresh flowers but they wilt too quickly and we should save the money for something we really need." Of course, if men buy this crap they are royally fucked. 

Be prepared for the ubiquitous, "You shouldn't have, I thought we discussed this." If you get defensive at that point, you are sure to be royally fucked, or not fucked. Might I suggest: "Money is just money but what you brought to my life the day you said yes has been beyond anything I ever could have dreamed of. You've given me so much more than I could ever give you in return." Or, "Every day is Valentine's Day with you in my life." Or maybe, "From my perspective every day is a special anniversary of the day we met." Or even, "The way your eyes light up and that amazing smile of yours when you have a bunch of fresh cut flowers in your hands reminds me that I'm the luckiest man in the world." Later, when you suggest that she wear the diamond choker and nothing else, well, insert your own picture here. 

He had suggested dinner. She agreed with some reservations, making it clear that they weren't really dating. She'd pay half. What the hell, it was just dinner and he seemed easy to be with. She wouldn't let it become a habit and would ensure that it didn't become normal, too dangerous or too much of a chance for things to get messy and complicated. That next evening as she prepared to open the front door she grinned as she considered the scenario that she had chosen. She intended to remind him very clearly what she was and what their relationship was all about.

The door swung open quickly and there she was, alarmingly beautiful in a crisp, white button down shirt and nothing more. His eyes uncontrollably fell to her pussy, that soft, naturally blonde pussy, already puffy and glistening with arousal. He was instantly erect and having gotten in the habit of not wearing underwear, the effect wasn't lost on her. 

He moved to her and slowly unbuttoned the gleaming white shirt with deft fingers, gently removing it from her shoulders, looking around quickly and placing it carefully over a chair nearby. 

She started to speak, "what's on your mind?"

He silenced her with his mouth as his strong hands roamed freely over her strong young body, exploring her glistening cunt and sliding along the tight crease of her perfect rump. His touch sent delightful shivers through her body. He broke the kiss and spoke.

"Two things. First, it would be a real shame if we messed up that shirt and you had to iron it again."

"Very thoughtful. And the other thing?"

"Don't ever meet me at the door with that adorable little pussy of yours hanging out unless you want to get fucked almost instantly with no preliminaries or foreplay."

"Point taken," she replied with a grin.

"You are a very bad little girl."

"Does that mean I need a spanking?" she replied, as she deftly unfastened his chinos and pushed them down to his knees. He kicked them off without looking down. Her soft hands worked their way under his shirt and pushed it over his head as her lips worked their way up his muscular chest. 

"Now we're even," she said.

He grabbed her, spun her around and pushed his engorged organ against the cleft of her ass as both of his strong hands cupped her breasts and caressed her turgid nipples as his lips nuzzled her neck. He was taking the lead, moving her toward the arm of the overstuffed sofa. She was quite sure what he had in mind and the vision excited her.

Pushing her down over the arm of the sofa he grabbed her arms and held them tightly as her head rested on the seat of the sofa and her feet left the floor. Releasing one of her arms, he spanked her several times, more than love taps, delightfully stinging but certainly not hard enough to leave a bruise. She responded with appropriate squeals. Then, as promised and with no preliminaries, he was inside her in a single thrust to the hilt. 

Using one hand to hold her wrists together and the other to grip her fine young hips, he fucked her hard and deep, unrelenting, remorseless and with no thought of tenderness, exactly as she had hoped he would. To her surprise he lasted longer than any eighteen year old should have, all things considered, more than long enough for her to cum and then cum again.

He came with a growl, like an animal of the forest planting his seed in a chosen mate in a desperate attempt to perpetuate its species. The passion, the pure unbridled lust of two exceptionally fit and handsome members of the human species tossing away thousands of years of evolution and sexual repression as if instinct had taken over, as if civilization had ceased to exist ... beasts rutting ... a bitch in heat ... a male, needing to fuck or die. 

Her eyes moistened as a fleeting thought flashed cross her consciousness, the sad realization that she had just enjoyed perhaps the most perfect and sublime pure fuck she had ever experienced. She smiled, deciding that if it was this good after less than twenty-four hours it had every probability of getting even better. He was playful, just like she could be. He was more than a great fuck he was a fun fuck. There was a brief sadness as she accepted the fact that it wouldn't and couldn't last. Then a smile again when she pledged to enjoy it to the hilt while it did and not do anything to fuck it up. He was holding her now and somehow she had ended up on his lap. 

"You are dangerous! You knew damn well what was going to happen, planned it in detail." His finger ran over her stomach as her spoke. 

"Guilty as charged."

"We're all about honesty, right?"

"Always."

"I didn't know what to expect, but I knew we'd fuck before dinner. I jerked off before I left my place because I knew I'd cum too fast if I didn't and I wanted to fuck you like that with no foreplay, just a hard, nasty fuck." 

"It was good, all good. Just what I wanted and needed," she admitted with a grin.

"You know I've never ever known anyone like you before. Never knew what it could be like. I ..."

"You're a natural baby. Don't fight it or agonize over it. You're what I need. You're good for me. Let's just keep it fun and playful, not let it get complicated and fucked up. Promise?"

"Sure, I promise." 

He meant it. He was as honest as the day is long but she new that at the core of every genuinely decent guy was a romantic, a man who needed to be in love and love always screwed things up. She wouldn't hurt him — couldn't — but she knew she'd have to keep his head in the game. She wanted the comfort he could provide; she wanted to be fucked. She was quite sure if she kept it slutty enough she could keep him on track. 

Over the next few months, the sex did get even better as they explored the very limits of human sexuality. Three months after their first fuck, they had become very good friends, discovering many surprising similarities in worldviews and family influences. They remained playful and uncomplicated in and out of bed. They went to dinner and cooked together. They did things that normal couples did but there was an odd difference in their relationship compared to others. 

In public, they were like very good friends or buddies. They didn't hold hands or gaze adoringly in each other's eyes. Their public persona gave no hint of their no-holds-barred sexual activities. It was a charade kept intact by the obvious: the age difference coupled with the shared belief that even if age had not been a factor, the entire foundation of their relationship was based on nasty, slutty, even kinky, sex, albeit between evolving friends. 

Perhaps for the best, providence struck at the six-month mark, for while they never discussed it, their genuine affection for each other grew and tender moments between them became alarmingly frequent. Each knew it would end, sooner rather than later, and when it happened both rationalized that it was for the best. Both had known there was no future. Both seemed almost relieved that the decision had been made for them. Time seldom stands still for long and all delightful fantasies end too soon as the realities of life force their way in. 

He had been offered the opportunity of a lifetime, a two-year fellowship at one of the most prestigious universities on the planet, far, far away. In his field, it would mark him as one of the chosen, one of the elites. She in turn had recently come to the notice of a true giant in her field and been offered the kind of mentoring opportunity which would ensure her quick assent to the top echelons in her discipline. She would stay. He would go. What they had enjoyed together would end. 

The tenderness of their love making their last night together said it all. As she hugged him that last morning at the airport, both rationalized that it was for the best but the pain of their parting was excruciating. 

They wouldn't write and wouldn't call. It would be a clean break, executed with maturity. It was for the best. They weren't in love and never could be. Friends? The sex had evolved from good to great to perfect, always playful, uninhibited and satisfying to both, but just sex, nothing more. 

"Lord, what fools these mortals be!" Williams Shakespeare's mischievous fairy, Puck observed in the third act of "A Midsummer Night's Dream". The Bard was not the first nor would he be the last to observe that love is closer to madness than we might want to admit. 

Unlike Shakespeare's lovers, these two had not created a romantic fantasy in their minds, but had actually lived a satisfying one for some number of months. In the years that followed both would come to realize that they had also become good friends, always playfully honest and true. In their own youthful maturity and seriousness, they had both concluded that fantasy was irrational and thus, it would be irrational to continue or pine over its termination. Love was never on the table and couldn't possibly be. 

So, two people who, looking back, realized that they had never fought over anything more important than how much salt to add to a jointly prepared dinner. They genuinely liked each other and enjoyed each other's company. Both grew and achieved significant healing from their time together and were perfect sex partners. They each walked away from the fantasy unaware of or unwilling to accept how real it had all been. 

While those amazing few months together slipped from the forefront of their minds over the ensuing months and years, they were never really that far below the surface. Both dated and fucked over the ensuing decade and came dangerously close to marriage. They each used work to cloud the pain and subconscious regret that neither could accept on the surface. Both over-achieved and became beacons in their chosen fields at relative young ages. 

She had reconnected with her mother after many years of estrangement and as that relationship grew in intimacy, she shared glimpses with her only living parent.

"He always made me smile, laugh, think, feel special and safe and he made me cum. Oh my God did he make me cum!" 

"That's not something you walk away from, dear," her mother remarked.

"Issues, mother, like our age difference and my abject sluttiness with him. Not any basis for anything more than what it was."

"Here you are at thirty-five and you miss him. It's written all over your face."

"Sure, I miss him. I know I miss the sex but more, even. It's his friendship, honesty and tenderness. He was good for me and helped me heal."

"Go find him. You'll never rest until you do."

"Can't do that mom, I don't want to shatter the fantasy or memories. I guess I don't want to know if it was real or could have been even. It's all moot. He's probably happily married with babies and white picket fences, all that real stuff."

He did not share intimate feelings of the same type with a close friend or family member, men seldom do, although he did spend a few sessions with a professional, spilling his guts and begging for answers that weren't provided. At the ten-year mark, he had achieved as much resolution as he ever would. At twenty-eight, it was time to move on with his personal life and certainly his love life. 

He was dating and fucking an assistant professor. She was the first woman he had dated seriously in ten years and certainly the first one who didn't remind him of her. It wasn't terribly serious yet but he had just that morning decided to kick it up a notch.

As he sat in his academic office contemplating a significant new level of commitment in his budding relationship, the dean's head appeared at his door. He liked the dean who had hired him and offered him everything a young academic could have asked for. In return, the dean secured a "name" young scholar who had achieved more before his thirtieth birthday than all but a handful in his field had accomplished in a lifetime.

"Got a minute?" the affable senior academic and administrator inquired.

"Absolutely!" he replied, bounding out of his chair to greet the man at least a couple of decades his senior not simply because of his rank but because he genuine enjoyed the gentleman's company and conversation. After a brief interlude of academic small talk, the dean got right to the point.

"I need a favor. I know you're not particularly excited about 'official' social activities and I can't say I blame you. This is different, special. I'm planning a very small reception offsite for a select group of potential new hires, hosted by an equally select group of existing faculty. This is hush-hush; no engraved invitation will be forthcoming. I plan to limit it to a handful of, how to say this tactfully, the more engaging 'stars' of our university?" 

"Uh, oh, I guess that means our Nobel laureates don't get an invite?"

"Exactly!"

"I wasn't aware that our department, or my area, was looking for new talent?"

"We're not. You pretty much took care of that when you chose us. There's a waiting list."

"Let's not sell our department's esteemed Nobel recipient short as a draw."

"In spite of the fact that you seem to have had a remarkably positive impact on him he can still be ..." 

"An insufferable, priggish bore?"

"Less so recently but still, your words, not mine."

"He's a work in progress and I'm not talking out of school. I've told him so to his face."

"You two actually seem to get along, even like each other. How do you do that?"

"For some reason he doesn't view me as his intellectual inferior like he sees everyone else on the planet. Once that hurdle was out of the way, I decided to be playful with him and even tease him about his foibles. At first, it infuriated him. He told me off in no uncertain terms on several occasions. He's a man who at just shy of fifty has really never had the kind of friend who would kid around with him. One day he actually made a joke at my expense, not terribly effective, but it was a breakthrough. The intellectual respect was there, the barbs and jibes evolved and I think we've reached the point wherein working together has become fun, not to mention enormously productive." 

"He does seem to have a new sense of excitement about his research."

"He's the most brilliant man I've ever encountered but lacking a collaborator. Since he'd chased away every decent mind who had ever tried to work with him, he'd gone stale. It's a win-win. I'm light years ahead in my thinking thanks to him."

"There is a rumor that he is actually dating another member of the faculty?"

"They are both very discreet and can be equally irritating but remarkably they've developed a real fondness for each other. It's far from idyllic in a traditional sense but they seem to be good for each other."

"Something about the vision of two of the most irritating people I've ever met, with all due respect to their respective Nobel's ..." 

"All sweaty and naked doing the nasty?" 

"Oh thanks a lot! It will take at least a week for me to blot that picture out of my mind. Anyway, back to business. As I indicated, I'm inviting a select group of our more affable staff and faculty including as many of our young superstars as possible — like you — to meet with a very select group of potential new hires in several departments outside of yours. The goal is simple. Assuming the money, perks and existing academic reputation of the departments in question all measure up to the competition and recognizing that this part of the country has a superb quality of life, I want to show them that our people are special. They may enjoy knowing, becoming friends with and who knows, maybe more than friends our colleagues. 

"A generous donor has given us the use of a delightful venue in the mountains, small and intimate with five-star accommodations which is just over an hour from campus by car. The guest list is small, a dozen or so. No big speeches or long sessions, lots of one on one time, perhaps some informal town hall encounters, very low key. There will be no hard selling, just people meeting people, optional planned activities for those interested and very laid back. I need you to attend and be the charming, engaging guy I've always found you to be. You are, if truth be told, the most enjoyable academic of your accomplishments — nominated for or awarded virtually every major accolade there is in your field — with whom I've ever had the pleasure of working. 

"Anyway, it's to be a weekend affair — first weekend of next month — with folks arriving Friday afternoon and departing on Sunday. I'm planning to have some of our graduate assistants meet the candidates at the airport and drive them to the site. I'd appreciate it if you could serve as a greeter on Friday as they arrive at the venue. Don't feel as if you have to be a social butterfly, far from it. If you sense some chemistry with one of them, spend time with them, get to know them and let them get to know you. 

"On another note, this is a two-edged sword. We have enough difficult people to deal with in the higher echelons of academia. If you get the clear sense that a particular candidate has the potential to be ... what was your phrase? Ah, yes. An 'insufferable priggish bore', well, we already have our share of those and I'll trust your judgment."

"Sounds like fun!"

"Oh you are entirely too easy! In fact, I hope and expect that it will be fun. Thank you. I knew I could count on you. I'll let you get back to work. The details will follow."




Life in the Fast Lane



Several weeks later as he sat in his office going through his in-box he had not yet made the additional commitment he had planned in his relationship with the comely young brunette he had been fucking for several months. If anything, he had put the brakes on in a manner that she had not missed. He was disappointed in himself, wondering if perhaps he should reinitiate the professional relationship he had terminated almost a year before to deal with his apparent inability to commit to a normal relationship. As he was about to review the curriculum vitae of the upcoming retreat attendees, the leonine head of the other Nobel laureate with whom he had a personal relationship graced his door.

"Marjorie! What a pleasant surprise! I do believe this is the first time since we've known each other that you have chosen to come to my humble abode."

"Yeah sure. The exercise is good for me. Nice digs for a young punk. Got a sec?"

"For you, always. What's up?"

The handsome older blonde closed the door, plopped down in the chair in front of his desk, immodestly put her feet on his desk and produced her always present pack of Nat Shermans ™, a disposable lighter and a portable ashtray.

"Head shrinking."

"Yours or mine?"

"Mine first, then yours if we must."

"I'm honored but last time I checked you have the PhD in Psychology while mine is most certainly in one of the more empirical sciences, not, what are they called, the social sciences?"

"As much as I enjoy your impudence and the insults heaped upon my chosen field, this is serious shit. It's all you're fault, too. You are the one who introduced us or at the very least pushed us together, you little matchmaker, you, and now ... now ..."

"He wants the two of you to come out of the closet, and dabble on the fringes of real commitment." 

"He's spoken to you about it?"

"Not directly, but in a manner of speaking. Look, Marjorie, as insane as it may seem, you're good for each other. Since the two of you 'hooked up', he's become a new man, a better man, certainly more enjoyable to work with. I'll take some credit for his evolution but you're the one ringing his chimes. You, in the same vain, have softened, rounded off a few rough edges. My God, look in the mirror! You have become the hottest Nobel laureate this side of the big muddy. Great new hair style by the way, fabulous new wardrobe, a spring in your step and if you don't stop giving me a clear view of your new silk, French cut, probably open crotch undies I'm going to leap over the desk and jump your bones." 

"It's always about sex Dr. Freudenstein."

"And the problem is ..."

"I'm not complaining about the sex, far from it. We certainly don't fight, we do things together, simple, everyday, normal things. Our worldviews are different but not dramatically so but at the end of the day, we have nothing in common. We're from different worlds, different disciplines and I miss him when he's not there. I'm like a little girl when I see him. He makes me happy and it scares me to death and I think he's about to do something serious." 

"I don't know for a fact, but now that you mention it, I've seen the signs and you're probably right on the money."

"I'm not ready for that ... I ..."

"What have you got to lose?"

"Everything, my independence, my respect, my heart."

There was silence between them for several minutes. He seemed lost in thought. She spoke first, not missing the moistness of his eyes.

"Are you still with me, Robert?"

"I am, I am. I just had some sort of strange epiphany of my own as we were talking. Barriers that we create, fantasy versus reality. Deny the obvious, sex, love, friendship, playfulness. Do you like each other? Are you friends?" 

"Yes! Absolutely. A level of playfulness together that I doubt either of us has ever enjoyed before. The very fact that we do come from radically different academic perspectives makes competitiveness virtually a non-issue. Yeah, friends and the first person I would call if I was in trouble."

"And, to use a scientific phrase from my discipline, does he ring your bells?"

"Oh my yes!"

"Then fuck everything else, and if he does what I think he's planning to do, say yes. Expect some 'shaky ground' in the immortal worlds of Bonnie Rait. Fuck what you think other people are thinking or saying, and grab on for dear life and enjoy the ride. Because maybe, just maybe, you only get one real shot at the genuine article and if you let it pass, you are royally fucked! Any questions?" 

"Interesting therapeutic technique. If this 'empirical' science shit doesn't work out for you, give me a call. You are very, very good. Thank you, Robert. 'Out of the mouth of babes' as they say. Praise Jesus I can walk, I am healed! Thank you more than you can ever know. Now how can I help you?"

"You just did."

"You need to explain that to me some time when we have more time. Perhaps we can coauthor a paper on your astounding methodology which includes instantaneous self discovery for the therapist."

"Do you have a directory of colleagues in your area of expertise?"

"Sure, several. Anyone in particular? If they're anyone at all I probably know them or know who they are, I'm big on the speaking circuit. 'Got a name?"

"Her maiden name would have been Stevens, Kimberly Stevens. She did her doctor—"

She cut him off. "Is she the one you talked about before when we chatted in a more formal, clinical setting?"

"Yes."

"Oh, my!" Marjorie replied unable to repress a chuckle.

"What, you psycho old bat?"

"Her maiden name was Kimberly Stevens and last time I checked her name is still Kimberly Stevens with no inconvenient hyphened add-ons. She's a brilliant young scientist with a stellar intellect. As I recall, she is a few years your senior. I had no idea you had a thing for older blondes. Damn! Missed my shot! Then again, you were already spoken for, weren't you? 

"I spoke to Dr. Stevens on the phone a couple of days ago, to confirm her attendance at our esteemed dean's private little party in the mountains which kicks off on Friday. I've actually met her more than once and we correspond professionally on a regular basis. I threw her hat in the ring for this university. Her area of expertise would be a stratospheric addition to our department. Of course, she's put on a hundred pounds, lost most of her hair and then there is that skin condition ..."

"What?"

"Just jerking your chain, champ. She's still a strikingly beautiful young lady. So you have what, forty-eight hours to get your shit together. What were the words of that eminent psychologist? 'Grab on for dear life or spend the rest of your life royally fucked'?"

"It's been ten years ... we ..."

"Oh spare me! There is no ring on the third finger of her left hand. We've never gotten girlie-girlie together but when I interviewed her I got no sense that there were any entanglements either to be left behind or accompanying her. Look Robert, I really want her here, need her even, so don't fuck that up. I don't have a clue as to where she is regarding you but I damn well know where you are regarding her. As they say in those obnoxious shoe commercials, just do it! Get the closure you've been looking for, not from her but with her. You don't gamble you don't win. Roll the dice and take the shot, because the upside is sublime magic. It's the only real reason we exist on this grubby little planet. Any questions young grasshopper?" 

"Thank you."

"Any time my impudent young wonderkind. Oh, and yes, they are French, silk and crotchless. Nooner time! Later."

****

As Kimberly walked up the escalator on her way to the baggage claim area, she wondered how she would connect with her ride. Perhaps a page or maybe one of those signs people hold up. Look for a perky, smiling young graduate assistant. Male or female? She was not remotely prepared to see the fiftyish Nobel prize winner routinely acclaimed as 'the face of human psychology for the new century and perhaps beyond' beaming down at her from the landing above.

"Doctor, Marjorie! This is indeed a surprise. I certainly didn't expect that you would personally..." 

"You're very special, Kimberly, but even on that note I wouldn't think of negotiating this mess they call an airport just to entice a bright young mind to our academic lair. This is personal, very personal. Let's find your bag and we can chat in detail on the ride out to the mountains."

As they exited the airport parking lot and merged onto the Interstate, both women were silent. Marjorie spoke first.

"We're both head shrinkers Kim. You've studied my work and I've studied yours. We're hardly disciples of Carl Rogers. We both adhere to a very direct approach in client work. I have a very, very dear friend. Someone whose friendship I cherish above almost anything on this earth. I'm going to say two words and then do my best to shut up. Robert Shaver."

"Robert? You know Robert? Is he ... is he going to be ... at the retreat?" 

"You betcha! His shining face will probably be the first one you'll see when you enter the main building. He's an esteemed and recently tenured member of our faculty and will be greeting the attendees. He knows you are coming, as of forty-eight hours ago that is."

"It's been ten years...is he..."

"Married, gay, fat, losing his hair or seriously involved with anyone? Not a chance. Hopelessly, insanely, head over heels in love with someone? Yes, he has been for a long time, with you."

"Oh, my," Kimberly whispered. 

"Not doing too well on the shutting up part, am I? Are you now or were you ever in love with him?"

"Yes, I couldn't accept it then because of our ages. There were so many things but I wouldn't let it happen. Yes, I was and still am."

"He does not know we're having this conversation. I wanted to let him sweat a little. No, not true, I love him to death. I'm meddling because I care for both of you and because it's what I do. Kim, he doesn't give a flying fuck about the age difference or any of the sordid details of your time together ten years ago. He and I had a come to Jesus mutual intervention two days ago. He wants you, now and forever, no bullshit, no games, and no regrets. You and no one else, you, the first person he sees every morning, the last one he sees when he nods off. In the last ten years he hasn't been able to find another woman who holds a candle to you on any level." 

"Yeah, I can relate to that since I pretty much gave up trying."

"Well, Kim, I'm not telling you how to play this but you don't wear coy well and from what I understand from him what you two had was pretty amazing and always honest. But just out of professional curiosity... do you have a plan?" 

"Tell him I love him the second I see him and a million times more till the day I die and then drag him to the nearest bed or other suitable surface and fuck his brains out?"

"God I sure hope you accept our offer. You and I would have a blast working together. Anything else you'd like to know about our august university?"

"I grew up not far from here and always ached to come back. Working with you is off the charts. Then you throw Robert into the mix. He loves me and wants me forever. Where do I sign?"

"Make sure you get all the available perks the university is prepared to offer before making it official but I'll take that as a definite yes, but I won't tell a soul. I love Robert as if he was my own. My love life has been dismal for most of my life. Thanks to Robert, it has recently made a definite change for the best. That's a story for another time, though.

"You are two very nice people. After years of study of the human condition, I still don't completely understand how the love gods work but somehow there almost seems to have been a plan here. So it took ten years to come to fruition. My clinical side says you both needed those ten years to understand what you really meant to each other and could be together. Enough psychobabble, we're almost there. I'm not going in with you, Kim, I'm not involved in much of the retreat but we'll touch base over the weekend. As much as I'd love to be there to see it, this is your moment, yours and Robert's. It's your destiny as surely as the sun rises every day."

"Thanks Marjorie, thanks for everything, I've got it from here."

The list he had been given indicated that Kimberly would be arriving early ahead of the main wave of invitees. He was nervous and peeked out the window several times. He had a plan, sort of. No bullshit, no fluff, no small talk, just be honest and to the point as they were so long ago. I love you. Always did and never stopped. Want you and need you by my side forever. The bold, in your face, no holds barred approach. How would she take it? 

He heard the front door open and there she stood. Kim...his Kim. More beautiful than he even remembered, walking toward him with that wry little grin of hers. She left her Pullman by the door, looked at him and nowhere else. He spoke her name and prepared to speak those magic three little words, her finger went her lips.

"Ladies first," she said, moving close to him, close enough that he could feel the heat of her body. Her arms surrounded him as his followed suit, their bodies folded in a perfect fit together, her head pressed against his as she whispered in his ear.

"I love you. I loved you then, never stopped, still do, always will, now and forever. If you'll have me, I'm yours. I've missed you so much and never want to lose you again. Please tell me, baby, tell me. Tell me you want me and love me."

"Always and forever," he murmured. "I never stopped loving you and I won't lose you again." 

Their warm tears intermingled, the deal almost done. They cried tears of joy, they laughed, they babbled and they held on to each other for dear life, much to the amusement of the two graduate assistances standing nearby.

"You have some very special friends, Robert."

"Marjorie? I should have known. She's the classic interventionist. She never did like loose ends and can be manipulative in a very loving sort of way."

"Do I need to check in somewhere?"

"Not really, the cabins are all assigned, all expenses paid, no cash mini-bars, credit card swipes or whatever."

"Are you my official guide?"

"Also, not really, although the dean indicated that if there appeared to be chemistry with one of the attendees I should feel free to exploit it. I'm supposed to be the greeter but you came in early and the rest of the flock won't arrive for at least an hour and I do have a couple of bright eyed and bushy tailed graduate assistants on station."

"Chemistry, your field, as I recall," she said with a leer. "How do we get to the cabins?"

"They're interspersed around the property. They have golf carts ... five minutes."

"At least an hour?"

"At least."

"Time is of the essence so let's get to that golf cart. Where are you staying?"

"Another cabin."

"Is it nicer than mine?"

"They're all about the same with a hot tub, fireplace, completely isolated from all the others and a king sized bed in a loft with a huge skylight."

"Have you moved in to your cabin yet?"

"Nope. My bag is sitting over there not far from yours."

"We're not going to need two cabins, are we Robert?"

"Probably not."

"Ever gotten a blow job in a golf cart?"

"Now that you mention it, no," he replied, already anticipating her touch.

"Wonderful! I wasn't sure that we'd be able to come up with some new wrinkles. We pretty much did it all ten years ago."

"We're intelligent people with fervent imaginations. I'm sure we'll be able to keep it interesting."

"I gave you my little speech once upon a time. You know the one about rug rats and white picket fences. I've grown fond of white picket fences and —"

He finished for her. "People who are in love should have babies?" 

"Uh, huh. I'm not on the pill. There was no real need in the recent past. You remember how much I hate the feel of latex and my calendar says there is an egg on site. Are you ready for that?"

"Nothing would make me happier."

"Which is not to say that, once we are reasonably sure that the deed is done ..." she let her words drift off but knew he would catch her meaning. 

"You'd like to get fucked up the ass?"

"Without question since it's been ten years. So I'll need a bit of help to adjust. Sadly I don't have the velvet clad box anymore."

"We'll improvise."