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Lost Love

By: Heaven



The snow was falling, as usual, and I was depressed. It was the holidays, and as of a week ago, I was spending them by myself. I had just broken up with my boyfriend of a year and was not looking forward to the upcoming weeks. Oh well , I sighed and resigned myself to gift shopping alone. As I walked through the mall I was painfully aware of all the people who had someone. "hmmmm maybe that Grinch had the right idea" I muttered under my breath. While, wallowing in self pity, something I suggest everyone try at least one time, I wasn't looking where I was going and bumped into someone, dropping what I was carrying as well as what the other person was carrying. "Oh my God , I'm so sorry..." I fumbled and then trailed off when I saw who it was that I had hit. The look of recognition twinkled in his eyes.

"Samantha?" he said hesitantly. I smiled and said " Hey Tim. How ya been?" 

Now before I get any further into my story, I suppose I need to tell you about Tim. About ten years ago, I was in junior high , and I met this guy. He went to my best friends school and to say the least, I adored him and he me. But, as young people tend to do, I was hurt by something that he did and wouldn't let it go. So, we parted on rocky ground and hadn't seen nor spoken to one another since.

"I'm doing great. And you? It's been awhile." he replied.

"Yes it has and I'm breathing." I laughed. He asked me what was wrong and I told him. " Well , he must not be smart to let you go, I always thought I was pretty stupid to let things happen between us like they did." 

"Me to... Well it was good to see you again." I said. As I started to turn away, Tim grabbed my arm.

"Hey, I was wondering if you'd like to get some dinner with me tonight." he asked hesitantly. I had nothing better to do, and it was good to see him again so with a smile I said "Yeah that'd be great." We arranged to meet at a restaurant we both knew well and left to go get ready. For some reason I had butterflies and the beginnings of a tingling in my groin. What was wrong with me? 

As I stepped into the restaurant lobby, Tim caught my eye and just stared. I was wearing a leather skirt with knee high boots, a halter top with a leather jacket. I looked hot and I knew it. But dam if he didn't look good to. We had to struggle to break the trance that we were in looking at one another and the waitress showed us to our table. Dinner went well and we talked about what we had been doing the past ten years and about old friends. It was wonderful, and I remembered instantly why I had fallen for him in the first place. I saw in his eyes that he felt the same way. As he walked me to my car, I was sad that the night was over. I dug around my purse for my keys, taking longer than I needed, wanting to drag out the inevitable. As I lifted them out of my purse, Tim pushed me against the door and kissed me. I wrapped my arms around his neck and returned it. I felt his tongue run along my lips and I parted them wanting to feel his tongue on mine. It was a soft, sweet , slow kiss that had me on fire by the time he pulled away. My hand instantly went to my mouth, and I stood there stunned, as did he. That was not was I was expecting.

"I .. uh...Wow" Tim stammered.

"I was thinking that same thing" I managed before he kissed me again. In our own little world we did not see the people walking by until someone began clapping. Embarrassed we looked up, giggled and looked at one another.

"Do you wanna come to my place?" he asked nervously.

"uh huh" I managed. I put my keys away and followed him to his car. 

On the drive we were quiet. I was thinking oh my God what am I doing? What if he doesn't like my body? What if I'm not any good? Ya know, typical worries. I hope that was on his mind to. We pulled into the parking lot of his apartment building. Well, it was really a townhouse and it was beautiful. He opened my door and took my hand, helping out of the car. As I stood up , he put his arm around my waist and we headed for the door. As he opened the door he turned to me and asked " Are you sure?" I answered my taking his hand and pulling him inside. I stood there stunned. It was even more beautiful inside. 

"Did you do this yourself?" I asked in shock.

"No, my mom helped" he laughed. " Would you like something to drink?"

I nodded and he brought me a glass of wine. We sat on the floor in front of the fireplace that he had started, and talked some more. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he leaned over and kissed me. I sighed and opened my mouth to him. His hands ran down my arms and rested on my hips and I scooted closer to him. Suddenly he stood, took my hand, and started pulling me down the hall. He stopped in front of a door, I assumed it was the bedroom, turned and smiled at me and said " now, before I open this door I just want to tell you that in no way was I planning for this, I ... well... I was hoping." I smiled and he opened the door. 

I gasped as I walked in. The room was lit by candles only. Rose petals covered every inch of the room. On the floor, the bed, the dresser. He walked to the dresser and picked up and envelope and brought it to me.

"What's this?" I asked with a grin.

"Just open it silly"

I opened it up and pulled out a folded piece of paper. On the inside of the paper was a rose. One that he had drawn. 

"Do you remember?" He asked quietly. 

I stared at it silently for awhile, and with tears in my eyes I said " yes ". Ten years ago he had drawn me a Rose just like this one and after we had fought, I had torn it up out of anger. How had he known? I put the paper down and leaned forward, kissing him softly on the lips " Thank you"

I put my hands on his chest and began kissing his neck, planting tiny kisses on his chin and cheeks and nose. He gasped as I pressed myself against his body and took me in his arms, kissing me hard and passionately. His hand roamed down my body and rested on my bottom, needing and massaging, as I started unbuttoning his shirt. I ran my hand inside his shirt, feeling this hair and running my fingers lightly over his nipples. He groaned and brought his hands up to pull my shirt out of my pants. Tossing it aside, he stood there and looked at my breasts. Being a halter top I didn't wear a bra. He bruised his fingers across my nipples and I sighed, closing my eyes. Then I felt his soft lips on my breast, nibbling and licking and sucking my nipple. He picked me up and carried me to the bed, lying me down and resting himself beside me. He looked at me and said " Do you know how many time I dreamed of this?"

"I hope as many times as I did" I smiled shyly. He again took my nipple in his mouth as I ran my hand through his hair and down his neck and back. He moved down and unbuttoned my skirt sliding it down and removing his pants also. Running his hands all down my body, and up the insides of my thighs until he started to massage my mound which was by this time soaking wet. His fingers hooked underneath the sides and began to slide my panties down. I lifted my hips to help and he tossed them aside alone with his own. There he stood in all his naked glory and all I could do was stare at him. He was harder than I had seen a mad before. He knelt between my legs and began licking the insides of my thighs. I was dizzy but if it was from the roses or the fact that he was dipping his tongue between my lips I don't know. I 

arched my hips which made my pussy push harder on to his mouth. He moaned. His tongue darted in and out of my lips circling my clit and then going back to get as deep as it could. " Oh god Tim ... oh yeah..." I moaned . He looked up at me and smiled. I could feel the orgasm building up and started rotating my hips as he licked me. I screamed as I came, wave after wave of pure pleasure washed over me as Tim continued to lick and suck my clit. When I had calmed down , he moved up and on top of me, kissing me. I could taste myself on his lips and it made me hotter than I was. He moved to enter me and to say that it was the most intense feeling I have ever had would be an understatement. He moved slowly inside me, his eyes closed, and bliss showing in his face. His thrusts got faster and I moved to match them. His cock was filling me like never before. He kissed my neck and I could tell he was close to cumming by the speed he was going. "I'm gonna cum Sam " he moaned and began to pull out of me. I quickly wrapped my legs around his hips and held him to me. He groaned at the message of that and came in a tidal wave. 

We laid there wrapped in one another's arms, rose petals stuck to our sweaty skin. I ran my fingers through his chest hair and sighed contentedly. " It's not gonna happen again Sam" He said as he idly played with a strand of my hair.

"What's not?" I asked.

"You aren't going to get away from me this time, I won't let you."

"I don't want to," I said and leaned up on my elbow. "I'm not going anywhere this time." Tim smiled and rolled on top of me, "Good, I'm not letting you out of this bed anyway..."

Lost Love



The fire roars in the fireplace like a tamed lion. Throwing shadows on the walls, the floor, and everything else. The fire being the only light source gave great warmth to the lovers on the floor. They lay on top of a warm thick blanket with clouds on it against the blue sky. The fire began a concert on the lovers, throwing shadows on them and watching the shadows dance. The primal animalistic grunts and sounds coming from the lovers gave the place a jungle feeling. 

The man on top thrusting himself forward and backwards with the rhythm of his lover on the bottom, both thrusting as the other pulled out. He held her hands on the top of her head with one hand and while his other hand moved up and down her body. She stood their speechless, waiting to scream. But she bit her lip as she felt him side of her, she couldn't believe how good he was. The way he moved with her as if he knew her mind and what she thought. They had been friends until this stormy night, but will they still be friends? That thought ran into her mind but only a brief second as they came together. She didn't care no longer, the only thing that mattered was that this night. He released her hands and she ran them down his back and gripped his tight ass. 

He was a mountain of a man, very strong in many places. He had been very scary to her until she found the beauty in the beast. Ever since that day, the day her grandmother had died he had been there for her. They had gone to the Rave and she didn't feel like dancing. He knew that she was down and so he went to the DJ to play a song for her. He had asked the DJ to play a country song called "I'm Rosemary Granddaughter." Her grandmother was named Rosemary and she had loved her with everything she had, her death took a great toll her on. The song slowly played and she heard her grandmother name and looked up to see people parting like the Red Sea and there stood her friend like Moses. He slowly drew his hand to her and she grabbed it, she felt so safe in his hands. 

They both slowly danced to the song as it played and the DJ played slow songs for the rest of the night, she was at peace as he held her. That had been a few days ago and with the storm trapping them at her house, she knew it was the right moment to transform their relationship into the love she knew that was there. He hadn't said anything as she leaned into kiss him. It was as if he wanted this too. She had gone to get the blanket that her grandmother had given her to keep her warm and he went to light the fire. The room light up as she came and he stood their watching. She had slowly removed her shirt and he had unbuttoned his, they stood their. 

He gently run his hand down her face and as his hand came to her face, she kissed the palm and looked at him. It was her turn to make the move and she did, kissing him on his lips. So soft and sweet they were, he never wanted to stop kissing her. She felt his smooth skin on hers and knew he had shaven that morning, "Had he known about this?" That thought like all the others didn't matter when he slide off her pants. He stood up, took his shirt off in front of her, they both were in their underwear. She took off her bra and her panties as he took of his boxer. They sat there naked, it was not their first time, but it was their first time with each other. They had been friends for ages and now this unknown territory they were heading into. She was thinking about pulling out, but when he reached into her hair and kissed her on the neck, life ended at that moment for both of them.

The sound of the fire and the hell that the storm brought no longer mattered, nothing did. He laid her down and she was about to speak, but he simple brought his finger to her lip, "Shhhhh." She took a deep breath and closed her eyes as she felt him inside of her. He went slow at first and then found a rhythm that both pleased them. He tasted her skin and she smelled his body, they both were perfect. Their body exploded as one in pure ecstasy, pure love for each other. He leaned in as he thrust himself into her and with a kiss from him to her, they exploded one more time. 

The thunder echoed into the night sky as the lighting lit up the sky. The rain began to pure heavy into the house and the wind blew down the chimney, almost blowing out the fire. The fire flicked onto his body, but he didn't care about the pain, he only felt pleasure at the moment, many times over. She felt the fire burn into his skin on his back and looked into his eye as he looked back. He blinked and paused, he was waiting for her and she replied by taking him in closer. With each moment of pure pleasure they felt their love grow into more then what they had before. They had surrender their body and soul to each other, no God or Devil could destroy what they had that night. She could feel his gentle touch on her face...But that had happened ages ago and now she was alone in her house, her cold and silent house. 

The fire had blown out and he had gone to lit it once again. When he had came back she was dressing herself, he stood their with a look of puzzlement. She had told him that it was a mistake and that it was over. That was not the reason, she was scared of what was developing between them. She never had any guy look at her and feel the way he felt for her, she was scared of destroying this...this...new love between them. He tried to reason with her, but she wanted him out of the house. He slowly put on his pant and boots and as he looked at her, she looked away. The fire rose with huge flames and almost burned down the living room. He looked at her and she could see from the mirror hanging on the wall that there was a tear down his eye. 

He wiped it away and opened the door, with one last look into at her, he left. She turned with tears dropping to the floor, her heart was crashed, but not by a boy, but because of her own fear. She saw him turn the lights on for his truck and started the engine. He backed out and she watched him exit the driveway. Her love became more powerful then anything that could keep her there and she opened the door and ran into the street. The lighting cracked and the thunder shook the earth and the rain poured flooded the world. She screamed at the top of her lungs for him to come back, but he drove off. The years passed and she had met someone and they had kids. 

But the man she married was not the man she truly loved. See, he never came back after that night nor was ever heard from again. They had found his truck a few miles from his house and with footprints leading to the ocean, he was a fisherman and the ocean was his second love. Some say that he killed himself while others say that he was swept into the ocean by the huge tides that crashed into the land that night. Those were only stories to her, she knew the truth. She had crashed his heart along with her hers, but he was the one that paid the price. So the years passed and she had gotten married and had children. The years had passed and her husband had died a few years ago. Her daughter lived with her in the same house that she had grown up in and the same house that she had ever made love in. He was the only man she ever loved, anything else was just sex to her. 

As the years passed on she looked out at the same window she watched him drive off, the same window that oversaw the ocean. And every time someone would ask why she did that she would reply, "I'm watching for the man I love to come and take me away." Never knowing she did not mean her husband, but the man that she killed...



Lost love



It's long after midnight. One more paper to grade. I take a deep breath and a last swig of cold coffee. The assignment had been to write a story about lost love. My mistake. Seems these students are too young to describe such emotional upheavals convincingly. Or maybe they just don't dare to be honest. Anyway, Isabelle is my last hope. She's the beauty with the little nose ring. Always sits at the front looking wide eyed at me as if she reads my thoughts when I return her gaze. Anyway, usually her writings are not too bad. That's why I always keep her paper for last.

I pick up page 1, "Lost love":

****

"I miss them so terribly. 

It seems all so long ago. Even though it's been only a few days, I miss them desperately. So many years have gone. So long ago that I met them. Met them for the first time in their warm living room in their beautiful house. So long ago that I loved them, that Bernhard loved me, that Anouk loved me, that they both loved me. So long ago. They were everything for me. Daddy, mommy, and I their little child. So long ago. It seems all so long ago....

And now it's dark all around me and it's finished. "In the end everything finishes, dear." That's what Bernhard said the other day, when we separated. Everything ends. Every love ends. Even their love for me. And now I lie here on this floor in the dark between others in this barren place, naked and chained, the dirt grating my back. How many are we? I don't even know. Three, four, six, or maybe only two? It's too dark to see. Just soft breathing around me. And a sob once in a while, a whimper. Darkness. Bernhard and Anouk are gone forever. My God, how I miss them! They were always so loving to me. During the nights there was always a small light on the wall next to my blanket on the floor, so I would not be afraid of the dark and know where I am. Up to the very last night. Bernhard and Anouk, you took so good care of me. It was always so nice and warm in your house. Have I ever realized how much we loved each other? I don't know. Not even after all these years.

But I shouldn't balk, shouldn't fret. Bernhard had said so in parting. He's right. As always. I should have no doubts. Must not. I still love them. I hope they are well. Both of them. Also without me. After all those years I must hold on, remember my life with them. I'm sure they also think of me. Maybe even now, this very moment. It's important to think so. And I'll think of them tomorrow too. And maybe that's when they'll also think of me. I hope so. Even if it's only for a moment. And they'll smile. And surely it'll excite them, and they'll furiously make love, just thinking of me. Like in the past. Like during all those years when their passions grew to high peaks because of me, because of my presence. Because I was there for them.

I must remember everything. That's what Anouk said too. It'll make it easier tomorrow. "Remember," she had said, "try to remember how it began all those years ago. It will give you strength, console you." Yes I do remember, Anouk. So very well. Like it was yesterday, not years ago. They were never ending years. Years of love and lustful violence. They were no dream. They were all very real. As real as the harsh reality of this moment, here, in this darkness, between those bodies in the straw. And as real as tomorrow will be. 

I still remember it so well, so clearly, that little add of yours. It caught my eyes as if it had been printed in bright colors between those many other black and white lettered personals on my screen. I was still so very naive. Really like a child. As Anouk so often said, "You're like a little vulnerable child to me." Their child. Their virgin. "You'll always remain a virgin, our virgin," she once said, even after they had together kind of deflowered me. And in a sense it was true. Bernhard and Anouk were my papa and mamma, and I have always been their tender love, their little innocent girl. Oh Anouk, I miss you so badly!

I still think of how I called upon you. How I rang your doorbell, that gleaming copper button on your heavy front door. How I still did not know who you were. I had not yet seen Bernhard's eyes. Those beautiful round and sad eyes. Nor known his hands with their long and strong fingers. Nor had I met Anouk, with her lovely smile and her shining hair. Oh, Anouk! Your mouth could kiss so heavenly. Your thighs are so safe, so soft and warm on the inside. When I see your smiling face before my mind's eye, I get all aroused again. How could I possibly have been so fortunate, to be with the two of you for so many years? 

"We, Anouk and Bernhard, are a nice married couple, young, rich, powerful and very sadistic. We have everything one would wish for in life. However, we lack a girl that would let herself be used unresistingly by both of us to satisfy all our sexual appetites. We can be lovingly tender and brutally cruel. Requirements: Nice face to look at, intelligent, and a juicy body."

I still know that text by heart. So short. So strong worded. Still remember how my face flushed when I read it. How aroused I was. And how I wrote one long letter after another, to tell you about my lifelong yearnings to donate myself as a plaything to some ruthless master, only to move them to the bin. And how finally I decided to write you back with an even more briefly worded text. 

"Dear Anouk and Bernhard. I am a free and available girl. If you promise to really use me you may have me. I am pretty attractive, sexy and sensual, and I would love to be forced to serve your sadistic pleasures."

That's how it really began. Like a dream coming true. Within two days I had your answer. With your questions. Remember? Remember you asked if I had a boyfriend? A boyfriend! Imagine. After all these years with you the word sounds absurd. I never had a 'boyfriend'. Never will. Certainly not now anymore. I couldn't stand a boy who just loves me and cares. I want to be owned. Owned by a fiercely cruel master, to be his pleasure property. 

And of course you wanted to know how my body looked. I had not sent you a picture. So I had one made.

When I recall that event my heart drums and I become moist again. That photographer in the little photo shop I entered, who showed me his small studio in the back, how he startled and reddened when I began to bare myself. How half in panic did he close and lock the door of his shop and drew its curtain. How he trembled watching me undress. How he got all confused seeing my smoothly shaved nakedness. How he almost forgot to take his picture. But how in the end he nevertheless did, shaking his camera, though it came out as a dazzling photo. A beautiful glossy print. When I came to collect it he had me wait until his other customers had left. How he blushed like fire when he handed it to me and how he had wanted no money. And how he suddenly became all rigid and pulled me down by my hair, pushed me on to the floor, ripped away my panties, and fucked the life out of me. And how, when he left me filled, I kissed him, just to thank him for his kindness, took the print with me and left his shop. 

Bernhard and Anouk liked the picture so much they put it up on the wall over the piano. It remained there for a long time. 

And your second letter, in response to my picture, with the invitation and the address. The immense relief I felt. I think that was the moment I really took the decision. Yes, that's how it was. A decision like that is like you are suddenly stopped right in the middle of life's racetrack. That's how it felt. A decision like that is not taken. It takes you. So you just go. And from one moment to another you are changed from a free and thinking human being to a brainless piece of livestock, a servile body for Bernhard and Anouk to play with when they feel like it. That's how it was. And there's never ever been any regret. In all my life I've never felt so sheltered, so happy and so content as I've been in those years. 

All those years. All those years of sleeping in the hallway. On my big soft blanket, Bernard and Anouk, on the floor behind your bedroom door. Always naked and chained to my dog collar with its little tag, bearing your name and address. Years of eating from a bowl on the floor, my hands unused, my breasts brushing your dining room carpet, and the two of you smiling down at the sight while enjoying your dinner, whether alone or together with guests. Years at your feet, Anouk and Bernhard, at your busy feet. Always available. Always nude and always ready for use. Ready for your games of teases and tortures, meant to juice me up to be fucked, meant as foreplay when you fuck each other, or meant as amusement for your guests. Games with my arms and legs spread helplessly, tied to the trees in your garden or to those four carved wooden posts of your bed. Those were years of wild passion for all three of us. Years of ceding my body to your endless sadistic cravings. Years of slapping my face, which you liked so much Anouk. Years of braking my shame, of having me taste the horrible bite of your whips. Years of being flayed and fucked. Fucked and fucked. Fucked by you Bernhard, fucked by you Anouk. Fucked by both of you, separately and together, and even fucked by some of your friends. I've been fucked to shreds.

Those were years of intense, inciting and provocative lust. And then suddenly there is Minette. Minette, the girl who is so much younger and smaller than I am. Minette with her wide hips that move so sensually. Minette, your new pussycat. Your little kitten with its small breasts, smaller than mine, but with large suckable nipples. With lush and wild dark hair, small white fearsome teeth and dangerously sharp nails. Minette, always on all fours, like a real pet, with her earthenware eating bowl adorned with colorful flowers, lapping milk from a saucer. Minette who purrs like a real pussy when you suck and screw her. Minette who screams more ear-splitting that I can, when she's used and fucked by your guests. Minette, who has taken my place.

Bernhard and Anouk, where are you?! I miss you so very badly. It's only yesterday when you said good-bye. And it began only last week. That horrible afternoon. When you both came to my blanket to tell me that lately I had become less fun to play with. That that was why you had obtained Minette. That I had grown out of being their little girl. That between my legs I had lost my tightness, worn out as I was by Anouk's toys and Bernhard's pleasure rod. That I orgasm too easily when beaten. That you don't like the smell and taste of my body as much as you used to. That my breasts, my nipples, my behind, my haunches, have lost their freshness and hold no more secrets. That my voice has grown so frayed that when you land your whips on me I don't even scream loud enough for you to really enjoy. And that because of all this you were gradually loosing your interest in me. And I cried when, in the end, you said you had decided to dispose of me, to sell me. My tears must have aroused you, because afterwards you obviously needed to fuck, drawing Minette on her leash straight away into your bedroom. 

Bernard, I can still feel your closeness when you crouched on my blanket, to bring me that horrible news. I can still hear your voice speaking those cruel words. As if trying to console me you said that you found it a charming idea, to have me auctioned. That way I would still be of some value, as you would get money for me. And you, Anouk, had laughed and assured me you didn't really need any money, so I shouldn't worry about how much I would bring in. You would spend it on a present for Minette. Maybe a very special leash. To remember me by. And you added that Minette would be given my blanket, so she needed not to lie anymore on the kitchen floor. It made me cry heavily again, although you both seemed to try and be nice to me, saying that in time you would sell Minette too. Or maybe swap her for a boy. Because Anouk would like that. Anouk had blushed when Bernhard had said that, and she doesn't blush easily. 

But your words brought no relief. I felt wretched and useless for the first time in my life with you. You mentioned having considered freeing me, although you knew I did not want to. Which of course is true. Freedom from bondage has become unthinkable. It holds no attraction. The utter loneliness that would await me in that dark and foreign land, would have me fall apart. So I knew I had no option, no other future. And as you said when trying to lift my spirits, I might still be usable for someone else's pleasures. Thus, with tears in my eyes and dizzy with sorrow, I conceded. 

But it was horror to be auctioned. How awful had it been. Only yesterday. All those visitors walking around, considering me and the others on exhibit. Nude bodies of women, boys and girls hanging on the walls from their wrists, most of them still young, just out of their youth.

Hanging like that, the tearing pain in my wrists and armpits was terrible. And the visitors judging my body and flesh were terrifying, touching my breasts, inspecting the health of my teeth, then opening my legs to see the funnel of my femininity and the annex hole of my behind. How much Bernhard and Anouk had been right. They all thought I had been used too much, fucked too much in all my openings. It was horrible to watch them crowd around the younger bodies, those still fresh and usable naked boys and girls. Some of the girls on those walls cried when touched, and some of the boys screamed. But I think they should have been proud in stead. Proud to be talked about in terms of sexual attraction and large sums of money. They would sell well.

How much I hoped that you, my beloved Anouk and Bernhard, would at least be present among those visitors. If only to console me with your smiles. But you were not. Only strangers, people who often did not even consider to buy me. Mostly well dressed men and women with their friends or spouses, happily chatting and laughing merrily. Some couples had even brought their little children, holding them trustfully by their little hands, patiently bending down to answer their large eyed questions, pointing things out on the naked bodies before them, explaining, and hinting at possibilities. It must have been quite an event for them. It's not often that boys and girls are auctioned. 

In the end nobody even put a bid on me. It was awful. I was left hanging, the last one. I couldn't hold out any further. Everything became dark and gray before my eyes. I would have agreed to anything just to stop the pain in my strained arms. But it turned out that in the end I was still bought. I don't know my price, but it couldn't have been much because there was only one buyer. I vaguely remember an old man with a moustache sporting a green jacket and black riding boots. I'm not sure though. Everything had blackened out.

Later, after they had revived me, I suddenly saw Anouk and Bernhard talking in the corner of the room. When they turned to me my heart jumped wildly. But they had only come to collect their check. Nevertheless I was so happy to see them, even if only briefly, that I cried. They told me that the man with the moustache had indeed bought me. Not for himself, but for his employer, a man of nobility, who owned a big mansion on a huge domain in the country. They told me to be strong. But nevertheless I screamed in terror when they informed me why I had been purchased. Bernhard and Anouk, each in their own kind way, tried to calm and console me, petting my hair, softly stroking my breasts, talking quietly to me with their lovely faces. The kind of things that usually calm me down. They said that I should not be unhappy with my destiny. That there wouldn't be much other use for me anyway, and in this way I would still provide for some real sadistic pleasures. And Anouk urged me to remember that my strongest aphrodisiac is to know the horrors planned for me. Bernard too, looking at me with his beautiful eyes, reminded me of my most arousing fetish: my inescapability from what's going to be done to me. And wouldn't this be a really ultimate experience? Anouk even confessed that the idea had made her moist and horny. And Bernhard promised that the two of them would celebrate my fate, using Minette to party upon. Thus, at least, they consoled me a little.

But nevertheless, parting from them was terrible. They had been so sweet and soothing. I couldn't let go and I seized Bernhard by his trousers and clamped myself on to Anouk. And of course I cried violently. I can still feel the echo's sobbing in my breast. My mind still sees Anouk's lovely smiling face and Bernhard's sad eyes, so dear to me. My heart is torn. My eyes are raw from crying. 

But they are dry now. I must be brave. I promised them. That's how we parted. I will be courageous. Here in the dark, where it smells like in a stable, and also tomorrow, when there'll be fresh air. 

I wonder what will they look like, the woody lands around that mansion. Dense with trees and brushes, I guess, and full of hiding places. As a child I've once been in a big forest. It had been frightening, the silence, the lost paths, the layers of rotting leaves and pine needles, the pools of mud, the humid mushroom soil. But I've never felt the dirt and dust under my bare feet, like I will tomorrow. How does moss feel, and dry dead branches when you step on them? Will it hurt? And how cold will it be to walk around naked? Or maybe it'll be warm. Hot from fear and excitement. I don't know. My stomach cramps. For the first time the anticipation of what tomorrow will bring awakens some butterflies deep down in my belly. Slowly the prospect of the inevitable obtains the colors of arousal.

I notice the warmth of another body moving close to me. It causes the vivid images of Bernhard and Anouk to fade. A hand pulls on the heavy chain attached to the iron collar they put around my throat. I tense up. But then my tout belly is caressed, which helps those little butterflies and it fires those habitual sparks of arousal. I grope around and feel a shoulder, a chest. It's a man. He puts his head on my breast. He's softly sobbing. I take him in my arms. He is naked too, and thin as a rake, almost still a boy. And chained as well. I sooth him in this darkness, gently stroking his nakedness. I can sense his fear. But it calms him. Suddenly he crawls over me, pulling the chain around his neck with him across my body, and pushing my thighs apart. And without waiting he bluntly forces himself into me. His member is long and bony but much too thin to pleasure my worn out love mouth. I barely feel it enter me. The only thing I feel is his belly hitting mine and his hands clawing my breasts until they hurt. One crude thrust and already he climaxes, spurting wetness inside me. What remains is just some warm breathing close to my face and then he falls aside me, silently, back into the darkness, his chain slipping from my body. I feel abused and used in a very poor way. But then I try to imagine how this hapless boy's semen now fills my womb, so mercilessly vacated by the only loves in my life. That strangely helps. I feel less abandoned, stronger. 

For a while I rest my head in the dirt on the hard floor and stare into the darkness, trying to regulate my breathing, watching this dark nothingness. Then, carefully, I try to move around, the sand and straw prickling my bare skin. How big is this place? The chain linked to my throat clanks softly. There is a shuffling sound. Somewhere to my left. Another neighbor? I move again and touch a body. A warm body. A soft body. Carefully I move my fingers, discovering the shivering flesh of a woman. There is a hand. She touches my face. It brings back my butterflies. I crouch up, crawl closer and lower my head on hers. We kiss in silence, our chains mingling. Her eyes feel wet. She must have been crying too. I kiss them, stroking the metal band around her throat. It arouses me to know she's chained as well. She too begins to breath heavily. Neither of us speaks. It all happens in silence. I embrace her and she pulls me over. Heaving myself, I lower my breasts to where her face must be. Immediately my nipples are strongly sucked. That feels good. My chain sways as my arousal climbs and I shiver. In the darkness I make believe it's Anouk's loving mouth that drains my juices. Finally the woman unlocks my nipples and kisses my imprisoned throat. Then her wet tongue slides back to my mouth. While I kiss her back with fresh ardor I begin to think of tomorrow with new pangs of desire. And I realize that my fears have now fully inflamed my excitement, to the point of becoming impatient for tomorrow. Too much waiting still before they'll let us out. I'm now longing for what will happen. That's what this woman below me does with me. It's a beautiful feeling. I'm filled with a delightful sense of purpose and excitement, strong and full of energy. Anouk and Bernhard are in my heart. For a moment I can see their smiling faces before me. 




Lost love



I try to imagine how it will be. How they will open the heavy wooden doors of our prison. How the light will flow in. And how we'll see the fair mansion lying peacefully in the sun amidst its carefully tended lawns. And behind that there will be the forest. Large and deep, they told us, its bordering fence hidden many miles away from here. A lot of place to roam and freely run. An unclimable fence, we have been assured. But there'll be no need for climbing. Surely they will have found me long before I'll even reach its vicinity. My cleft has become damp thinking of it. Too bad Bernhard and Anouk can't enjoy me as I am now, as I will be tomorrow. With sudden force I grasp the woman, still below me, by her hair and kiss her hard on her mouth. She moans and sucks my tongue. And when I rub my sopping decrepit twat heavily against her mound, I contract in a huge orgasm.

When the silence around me returns, I begin again to think of tomorrow. The fear is back but it's a good fear now. It fuels my arousal, wakes a fierce erotic lust. I'm frustrated. It's still such a long wait. Much too long. I can't wait anymore for the ultimate surrender to that party and to the terrible pleasure I'll have to grant them. Only at dawn break, they said, they'll take the chains off and we'll be driven out. But even then it will still take many more hours.

At least until noon, when on the terrace of that mansion the celebrating guests will be given their rifles for the hunt. 

We'll all be running by then, looking for cover and hiding. But I'm not anymore young enough to hold out for long. So I guess I'll soon be found. Then I'll think of Bernard and Anouk and rejoice in a screaming orgasm while being shot."

****

"Class dismissed; Isabelle please stay with me for a moment." 

"Yes sir?"

I let her wait until the other students have left. She seems a little nervous. So I smile when addressing her: "I see you seem to have made it. You're still nicely alive."

She laughs. The cute little ringlet piercing the sexy division between her nostrils, twinkles. "It's only a story, sir, a fantasy." 

"Not exactly the kind of stuff I often encounter in my class of creative writing."

"You didn't like it, sir?" Her voice is suddenly tense. 

"I liked it, sure I liked it." 

She relaxes visibly.

"But you must tell me one thing, Isabelle."

"Sir?"

I look her straight in the eyes and slowly ask the question that has burned in the back of my mind ever since reading her paper. "That unholy couple of yours, Isabelle, why have you given them my name and that of my wife?"

She blushes. Her smile freezes in a hint of anxiety. 

"Well?"

"I'll change the names if that's what you want, sir." The strain is back in her voice, full force.

"That's no answer, Isabelle. Why did you do it?

She's quite nervous now. Her little nose ring trembles. "I don't know, sir... just an idea..."

"Just an idea?" 

Still blushing she stammers: "I... I don't know sir. 

"I think you do know." 

She swallows. There is a long silence. We just stare at each other. Her pretty face slowly becomes crimson red. She really has beautiful eyes. And a beautiful figure too. I wonder what her body would look like. 

Finally I break the silence and ask: "How about dinner tonight at our place? You already know me, so maybe you want to meet the real Anouk as well?"

She hesitates, but then, almost in a whisper, she says: "I would like that, sir."

"Good. That's settled then. I'll tell Anouk. Eight o'clock?"

She nods like an obedient student, and picks up her things, her face still adorably flushed. 

"Oh yes, one more thing, Isabelle."

"Sir?"

"Anouk, and I, we would prefer you not to wear knickers."

She looks up and smiles. "I won't sir, of course not…"



Lost Love



It must have been ten years since I started dreaming of you again. Your blue eyes, so bright and beautiful, framed by light brown hair to your shoulders and a sensuous jaw line. How I loved kissing your neck. We were so young and innocent. I earnestly wish I had met you later in life when I was wise enough to see.

When I first saw you across that dimly lit room at that college party the attraction was instant. I surveyed your beautiful face, then your short body, your full breasts, your shapely ass, and the curve of your waist. But when your eyes met mine, and you smiled, I knew.

We greedily explored each other's body as new lovers do, learning hidden desires. I loved the touch of your lips on mine, their smoothness as we kissed, the flick of your tongue against mine. I was surprised by the fullness of your breasts when I caressed them through your sweater.

I did not expect such large beautiful breasts on such a small frame. I loved how your kisses became frenzied when I lifted your sweater over your head, unclasped your bra and rolled each firm breast. Your rouge nipples became so engorged, lifting the whole areola up, and so sensitive. How your body shivered when I circled each slowly with my tongue before drawing it into my mouth and lashing at it. I could have done that all night, but I was starting to have engorgement issues of my own.

I wanted all of you. My hands roamed from your ass, to your inner thigh, to the hot damp spot between your legs. I rubbed your pussy through your jeans feeling your excited moans vibrate against my lips as we kissed passionately. I wanted you to reach out and do the same, feeling my bulging pants, showing me your lust and desire. But you were a good catholic girl and refrained. I would have to take things into my own hands, so to speak. I kissed the soft skin of your neck, forcing you gently onto your back, with your legs parted by my thighs; I rubbed my bulging cock directly against your pussy. We dry humped like that, kissing as we did, until we were both dripping, aching to fuck.

I remember unbuttoning your jeans, unzipping them and kissing the front of your panties before pulling jeans and panties over one hip and then the other and then finally off your sexy legs. Tossing your clothes aside, I hugged your thigh to my bare chest and kissed the back of your outstretched calve. Then I kissed lower, behind your knee, along your inner thigh. Of course you knew what was coming. You laughed nervously as I parted your thighs wide, trailing my tongue along your warm soft skin. I inhaled your scent, betraying how excited you were. I kissed your groin muscle, my cheek brushing the soft hair above your beautiful pussy. And then parting my lips, I liked your pussy, running my tongue slowly upward in one long lick.

The taste was delightful: musky, salty and clean. I loved the rubbery firmness of your lips when I parted them with my fingers, and how pink and slippery it was inside as I pushed my tongue deep. And how your engorged bud of a clit poked out at me when I pulled back the now slippery folds of your pussy. I loved how your body trembled as I held your firm ass in the air in both hands as I surrounded your clit with my lips and flicked it with my tongue. I wanted you to cum so bad, even more than I wanted to plunge my now rigid cock deep into your withering virgin body. We were so young.

After a couple weeks our steamy sessions of passion became reciprocal. Your hands freely roamed from my ass to bulge. How my cock jumped at your touch, always self-lubricating well before you unzipped my jeans and stroked it noisily as we made out. It was so erotic to be kissing while we touched each other. I wonder if you were surprised the first time I came, spurting sticky cum through your fingers onto your bare tummy.

I wanted to respect your virginity, but I wanted your taut body so badly. I loved lying naked with you, hands exploring every inch. To build your passion and desire through the touch of my fingertips was so fulfilling. And the sensation I felt when I straddled your chest pressing my rigid cock between your breasts was truly wonderful. I loved how your nipples pushed out as you held your tits together engulfing my shaft. I was so excited that no lubricant was necessary as I thrust between. And I loved how you watched when arching my back, cock head emerging from your cleavage, I finally spurted hot white cum all over your upper chest and neck.

As we progressed we flirted with the inevitable. I'm sure you remember that time I gave you a backrub. We were both naked on your bed and the touch of your skin was warm and sensual. I kneeled over the small of your back as I massaged your shoulders. I lowered myself so that my stiff cock and balls brushed the skin of your back heightening your arousal. I gradually moved lower so that I could kiss your shoulder blades and run my tongue along your spine. This positioned my hard cock in the cleavage of your wonderful ass. It felt so wonderful to slowly slide it up and own your warm skin, that my cock dripped precum, lubricating your skin. My thrusting became more vigorous, sliding across your taught anus, as I "titty-fucked" your ass checks. The resulting orgasm was tremendous: when you squeezed your checks around my cock, I spurted string after string of cum onto your back.

Our next session was similar, but even more sensational. It started much the same, except that I turned you on your back and rubbed myself along your very wet pussy lips. The head of my cock slid easily against you, parting your lips, but then sliding along them, rather than penetrating. The dripping head of my cock pressed against your engorged clit, followed by the upper half of my shaft. With each thrust our mutual excitement and passion increased with your soft moans until my cock tightened, balls lifting, and you felt the spasm of my shaft against your clit and pussy lips.

It was not long after that when you shyly announced your decision to go on the pill. It was a wonderful gift that made me nervous, for I knew I was not worthy of it. I wanted to wait for a special setting, but hormones got the better of us. Like the previous session, I was slowly rubbing my cock against you, but with each thrust pushing deeper. The head of my cock pressed against your vaginal opening, pausing before sliding up and over your clit. Your excitement urged me on. The next thrust teetered on the edge, as you quivered in anticipation. I could not resist, nor did you want me to. The next thrust slide into you slowly as you softly called my name. Deeper and deeper I pushed careful not to hurt you. About halfway, then out, and then back. Deeper each thrust but slowly. Making love for the first time. we were one. I remember kissing you deeply, eyes open as I came, filling you with my cum for the first time.

After that we tried every position we could think of. I loved you on top, pleasing yourself with my hard cock, as your breasts bounced with the motion of your body. I also loved making love to you from behind. You have the most beautifully erotic ass and hips. I loved seeing your cheeks parted as my cock disappeared into your pussy.

But we were so young. I was not mature enough to realize what love was. With time, we sorrowfully parted ways to pursue our own dreams. I should have told you so much. I should have told you how I loved you. I should have told you that you were my dream.  

After these many years, I am sure you have a family of your own with a husband and children that you love very much. I would never dream of imposing on your happy life as there is no changing mistakes of the past. I only hope, that one day, you will think back and smile, and know in your heart, that I loved you.



Lost Love



Mic was beginning to forgive his parents for making him chaperone his sister, Lila. She had been dying to attend the Chambers' big party and their parents had refused to let her go alone. 

It was well known that when the Chambers parents were away, as they were now, their kids would play. Often the police had been called in to breakup their parties when they got too wild, and it was suspected that at least four girls from the high school had gotten pregnant at Chambers parties. 

Although Lila had been 18 for two months; this was her first time invited to her first such party and her father had flat out refused to let her go unless her big brother went along. 

Mic was home on a six week furlough from the Navy and his dad was sure that none of the local high school punks would mess with his little girl if her brother was there to keep things under control. Only the Chambers parents seemed to be unaware of what happened when they left town. 

But right now Mic had other things on his mind. Jordan Chambers was just a little bit overweight, but she was pretty, was such a fun girl to be with, and such an easy lay that she was very popular. Tonight she had set her sights on Mic. She had lured him into her large walk-in closet and now as she ran her tongue into his mouth, Mic was holding her fat, heavy titty in one hand while the other was trying to find its way under the legband of her panties. 

"Oh, Mic," she whispered, "I've wanted to do this with you since I was a freshman and you were a senior. I hope you're as good in bed as I've heard." 

Mic grinned at her. "I've never had any complaints. But will you respect me in the morning?" 

"Probably not," Jordan answered, "but I will give you a blow job that you'll never forget." 

"I'll come back just as soon as I dump little sis at home," Mic said, worming his fingers into Jordan's pussy. 

"Why don't you both stay the night?" she said. 

"I could, but if I don't get Lila home by eleven our dad will be over here with shotguns. I was sent here to make sure she doesn't get in to trouble, you know." 

Jordan giggled. "You are probably too late for that. My brother Paul got the games started early tonight." 

Mic looked at her in confusion. "Games? What games?" 

"You gotta have games at a party," Jordan said. "The kind of games that teens like to play like, spin the bottle, and strip poker, but the deference is what happens to the loser. Let's go see how far they've gotten." 

When Mic and Jordan had returned to the livingroom and they saw that the games had indeed begun. There were twenty or so teenagers broken up into groups of five or six, sitting on the floor playing cards. From the piles of discarded clothing it was obvious that the game they playing now was strip poker. Mic quickly searched out Lila's group and saw at once that his sister was a lousy card player. She had already removed her shoes, blouse, and pants, and as he peered over her shoulder he saw that she was holding garbage. He felt sorry for her bad luck when it suddenly hit him. Unless some kind of poker miracle occurred in the next few seconds his sister was going to lose either her bra or her panties. He and every other male in the room would soon see his sister's tits or pussy. 

Remembering that he was there to protect his sister, Mic moved around so she could see him. He decided that he wasn't going to interfere unless she asked him too, but she had to know that he was there for her if she needed help. "Uh, Lila," he said, "if you don't want to go through with this I'll take you home now." 

"That's okay," Lila said. "We're just having fun. Nothing going to happen unless I want it to. Why don't you join us?" 

"No fair!" yelled someone in the group. "He's got all his clothes on and we're all half naked already." 

"Their right," Mic said. Then he gulped, "I'll just stay over here and watch." 

He settled down in an easy chair and waited as the teens in front of him showed their cards. As he had expected Lila had the worst hand. 

While the girls taunted and laughed at her, the guys in her group just got quiet and stared intently at her, as she straightened up and reached behind her back to unclasp her bra. Mic stopped breathing as she slowly removed it and let her arms drop to her side to display her naked breasts. 

Mic looked at sister. Her breasts were not the largest in the room, but he thought they had the best shape; firm little cones that would nicely fit in a palm or a mouth. And her nipples, which were hardening as he watched, were magnificent. Mic looked quickly around the room and saw that there were several other topless girls in the room. None of them could hold a candle to his little sister. 

Lila sat back down and got ready for the next hand. She hadn't minded taking her bra off in front of a room full of her schoolmates, but when she saw that Mic was watching her; everything changed she like it. She suddenly felt excited and her nipples had grown erect. She wondered if he would keep staring at her when she lost her panties. 

Mic was trying not to stare at Lila, because this ws is sister and he not right for him to look it her. But, he could feel his cock getting hard again and was sure that soon everyone would notice. He was just hoping that if he looked at enough at the other naked girls, so they wouldn't know it was his sister who got him excited. So, he kept his eyes moving while he hoped she would quickly loose another hand. He wanted to see her pussy just as soon as possible. 

But, Lila's luck was improving. Finaly, after ten more hands, she was one of only two in her group still wearing anything. Mic was silently praying that she would loose soon. He would hate it if she won the game and kept her pussy hidden. Evil thoughts ran through his mind. Was she very hairy, or did she keep a neatly trimmed bush? Once she was naked, would she sit with her knees together, or let them flop open so everyone could see her lips? Would he be able to see her clit? Would she let him see her naked again sometime, when there weren't so many people around? He tried to get thoughts out of is brain, but at this time he was only listening to one head, and it wasn't the one on top of his body. 

Mic couldn't stand it the wait was killing him. So, making the excuse that he wanted to get a beer. So, as his got up he had to pass behind Lila. Glancing down he saw that she was going to loose again. She had nothing; just five useless cards, none higher than a 10. Rushing back to his seat to make sure he was there to see her lose. A guy named Thad had a full house. Lila said nothing, she just stood up and then pulled her panties down and tossed them away. 

Everyone just stared it Lila, as she stood there naked like the day she was born. The only thing different now was that she was 18 and a grow woman. Her pussy mound was covered with fine lite brown hair, neatly trimmed into a heart shape. The girls giggled, but the guys shouted that they wanted to be Lila's valentine, but Mic did nothing, but he wanted to get up and kick every guys ass there, but all he good do was to look at the glorious sight, and memorizing every detail. 

After the game, Lila went to the sofa across from Mic. As she walk, Mic had the best field of view of her lovely ass. Then just as she turned and sat down he cheered as she sat with her legs well apart. Sadly, as she settled on the cushion the front rose just enough to spoil the view and Mic could barely contain his groan. 

Mic had forgotten that Jordan was there so he was startled to hear her voice in his ear. "Scuse me, lover, but I gotta go give Thad his prize. Watch the show so you'll know what you're in for later." 

Mic had wondered what Thad had won for wining the game. That became clear when Jordan knelt before the winner and suddenly pulled his shorts down to his ankles and started sucking his cock. As Thad moaned and ran his fingers through her hair, Jordan did her best to make him come quickly. She sucked and tongued his cock while her hands played with his balls and asshole. It took her only a few minutes to make the guy erupt in her mouth. 

Mic was wondering what a winning girl would have gotten when a high pitched giggle made him look across the room. A girl had won the game in her group and now Kevin Chambers was on his knees before her licking her pussy. Mic was suddenly very happy that Lila hadn't won her game. If he had seen Kevin doing that to her he would have beaten the younger man to death, and he actually liked Kevin. 

As he watched, Mic had to admit that Kevin had a good technique and the girl before him was certainly not complaining. Still, he didn't want Kevin or any of the other guy or person doing that to his sister. 

It took another twenty minutes for all the games to be finished and for each winner to be rewarded by Jordan, only one girl had won that night, and Mic was getting ready to go. He figured that some sort of orgy was next on the agenda and he had to get Lila away soon as he could. Just then Kevin came up to him. 

"The next game requires an equal number of guys and girls in each group. I've put Jordan in with Bret's group, but we need an extra guy in Thad's group. You wanna play?" 

"What's the game?" Mic asked. 

"It's a variation on 'Spin-the-Bottle' that Jordan and I cooked up," Kevin replied. " But, you will have to strip if you want to play." 

Listening to them Lila had to stifle a gasp. Now it was her turn to be thrilled at the idea of seeing forbidden flesh. She had enjoyed showing her tits and pussy to her brother, now she wanted to see his body, especially his cock. And she had the feeling that if he agreed to play the Chambers' version of the kissing game, she might be doing a lot more than looking at him. 

Mic started to take his clothes off. "Yeah, I'll play," he said. "Aren't you going to strip?" 

"Naw," Kevin said. "I like to watch. And I'm going to be paying particular attention to your group. It's the first time I've had a brother and sister in the same game. It presents some possibilities. And I will like to see what happens." 

Mic knew that Kevin was hinting at incest, and he wanted to smash the Son-of-Bitch's teeth down his throat. But, he also knew he wanted to play this game with his sister. He just had to figure out how he was going to stop it before it got out of hand. 

Mic joined the others on the floor and as the oldest he was the first to spin. The bottle pointed to a lovely redhead on his left and he glanced up at Kevin. 

"So now I kiss her?" 

Kevin grinned. "Not really. You get to suck her tit. When the girls spin, they do kiss the guy. They also play with his cock. That's the first round. Second round, when you point the bottle at a girl she has to suck your cock. If she points the bottle at you, you have to eat her pussy. Third round, you fuck." 

Mic leaned over and took the redhead in his arms. "What's your name?" 

"Katherine," she replied. 

"Hi, Katherine I'm Mic," Mic said as he bent down and took her firm right breast into his mouth. He teased and nipped at her nipple for a few moments and then it was her turn to spin. 

The first round was tame if that what you can call it.. Katherine got picked twice and a pretty brunette named Kelly once. Mike got kissed and fondled by Katherine and Kelly. When it came time for Lila to spin the bottle wound up pointing at a skinny kid named Eddie, and Mic had to clench his fists to keep from strangling him when Lila put her hand on his cock. He had almost decided to take her home when he got a bright idea. He was fairly sure that he could control spin of the bottle and pick his girl for the second round. If he could point it at Lila he was sure she would freak out and demand to be taken home. And if she didn't freak...just maybe... 

Mic swung the bottle carefully a couple of times to make sure that the spin would be right, then he gave it a twist and hoped. The bottle must have spun for a half second or so, but to Mic it seemed like an eternity. 

Finally it came to rest, the neck pointing straight at Lila's pussy. Mic took a deep breath and just waited for his sister to react. He knew that she would want to leave. 

Lila stared at the bottle for a moment. She had seen Mic test the spin of the bottle and she knew this was no accident. She was seized with a desire to lean across the circle and take her brother into her mouth, but she was terrified of doing it in front of so many people. The story would be all over town by lunch. But, on the other hand, she had come to this party to get a reputation. 

Mic's breathing stopped as Lila moved to him and took his cock in her hand. She looked into his eyes for a moment and he knew she had figured out what he had done. Then she lowered her head and opened her mouth. In a mere fraction of a second he knew he would feel her soft lips on the head of his cock. But, then someone come in the door. 

"KEVIN!!! JORDAN!!! WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON???" Someone said. 

The bellow from the front door was followed closely by a lady screaming. Everyone's eyes turned to the doorway where Mr. and Mrs. Chambers were standing in shock. Suddenly the room was full of people grabbing clothes and struggling to get dressed. In the mad scramble Mic found himself trying to pull some unknown girls panties on, while he saw some other kid run out wearing his shirt. Mr. and Mrs. Chambers were running around shouting out the names of the people that they recognized while threatening Kevin and Jordan. When Mic heard Mr. Chambers yell his name he decided to forgo dressing and grabbing his pants in one hand and Lila, now wearing one of Jordan's sweaters and pair of panties, in the other he rushed for his car. As he and Lila piled into the car; Mic could see Mr. Chambers talking on the phone. Somehow he knew that his parents were on the other end of the phone. 

Mic didn't know what the hell he was going to do. One thing he knew, if he was going to try and convince his folks that the Chambers were crazy, or at least exaggerating, he and Lila couldn't go home half dressed. Pulling the car into the far corner of a mall parking lot he got out and searched around in the trunk until he found his fatigue jacket and a pair of tennis shoes. Then he checked to see how Lila was making out. 

Lila had produced a pair of jeans from somewhere and was squeezing herself into them, but she had no shoes. He just hoped that he could distract his folks long enough for Lila to make it to her room before they saw she was unshod. 

"Well that could have been a lot worse," Mic said. 

"How?" Lila asked. 

"It could have been our folks in that door." 

Lila giggled and Mic relaxed a bit. Then he took a deep breath. 

"Uh, Lila, about what you and I were about to do. I am just sorry I let things get out of control. I knew I should have taken you home as soon as the strip poker game started, but I didn't want to embarrass you. I don't know what got into me, making you touch me like that." 

"You didn't make me do anything," Lila said. "I knew you pointed that bottle at me on purpose. I knew I could have made you take me home then. But I knew you wanted to keep playing - and so did I." 

"You did? With me!?" asked Mic. 

"You were the best looking guy there." she answered. Then she whispered, "Would you have done it again? The third round?" 

" Hell yes. No one there looked good as you do." 

"Oh." Lila waited for a moment and then said, "I think we better go home. I don't know if the Chambers saw us like that, but if they did we can't let Mom and Dad think we ran off someplace to finish the job. Although I would like to." 

Glancing at his watch Mic realized that it had almost a half an hour since they had run from the Chambers' house. By the time they got home their parents would probably have the worst possible idea of what Mic and Lila had been doing. 

"Yeah," he said, "it's time to face the music." 

When they finally got home they were surprised to find only their father waiting for them. Perhaps they had been wrong and the Mr. Chambers hadn't called. But with their father's first words they knew he had. 

"Lila, go to your room. We'll talk in the morning. Mic, I've packed your duffle. I'll take you the bus station now." 

Mic looked around the room. "Where's Mom?" 

"I gave her a sedative," his father replied. "She was getting hysterical and violent. If she were here right now, you'd probably be dead." 

Mic gulped and nodded. "I gotta hit the head. Okay if I do that first?" 

"No you can wait until we get to the bus station. I promised your mother that I'd keep you two apart." 

So, Mic and his father got to the bus station. Finally he turned to his father and said. 

"Can we talk about this, Dad?" 

"I don't see why not. There aren't any buses this time of night. I figured we'd thrash it out over a few beers in the lounge." 

"Thanks, Dad. I was beginning to think I'd been banished from the family," Mic said. 

"You have been," his father replied. " Not by me, but by your mother anyway, and frankly I can't see how I can change her mind on this, so probably we won't be seeing each other again." 

"SHIT, DAD! NOTHING HAPPENED!" 

Mr. Turner just look at his and asked. "Would something have happened if the Chambers hadn't come home early? Frankly, Mic, I'm very disappointed in you. I sent you to that party to take care of your sister and make sure she didn't have sex; not to fuck her yourself!" 

Mic gave a nervous laugh, "Don't be silly, Dad. I was going to stop it before Judy did anything serious. I didn't think letting her have a little fun would hurt anything." 

"And you weren't thinking of doing her yourself?" his father asked. 

"Never Dad. Shit, a guy doesn't get horny for his own little sister." 

Mr. Turner laughed harshly. "Don't bullshit me, boy. I know just how a guy reacts to a piece like Lila, sister or not. Hell, when I was your age I would have given my right arm for the chance to put it your Aunt Salma. And Lila is even hotter than Salma was at that age." 

"Uh, Dad, if you think that, you seem to be taking this pretty calmly." 

"Like I said, I understand. And I know that you didn't fuck your little sister tonight. I'm willing to put all this down to stupidity, booze, and not getting enough while you were in boot camp. But your Mother wants you kept far away from Lila, forever. I'm sorry Mic, but that's the way it has to be." 

Mic shook his head. "I don't get it, Dad. I can see Mom being pissed, but you're telling me that I can't ever see her, you, or Lila again. Damn, that just not right." 

"She doesn't want you to call or write either," his father said calmly. 

"GODDAMNIT, DAD! What gives?" 

"I suppose you ought to know the truth. What happened tonight, well your mom has 'issues' from when she was a kid. You see, while you wanted to screw Judy tonight but didn't, and while I wanted to do my sister but didn't, your uncle did scored with your mother when they were teenagers." 

Mike sat in stunned silence. "You mean Mom was raped by her brother!?" 

"Did I say anything about rape?" his father said. "I said he scored with your mom; he wooed her, make her love him, took her virginity and gave her three years of great sex. The problem is your mother feels guilty about how much she enjoyed it. And she is determined to make sure that Lila never has sex with you." 

Mike looked at him. "Dad, how can you know all that?" 

His father shook his head resignedly. "Well, a therapist has no right treating his own family, but your mother was getting very depressed last year and she refused to see anyone else. Finally, we agreed that I'd try to help her and if she told me something I couldn't handle, we'd bring in outside help. It took her three months to tell me about her bother; about how she loved it then but regrets it now. I think I surprised her when I didn't flip out, but like I said, I understand those sort of feelings. "I was actually making progress in convincing her that she had nothing to be ashamed of. Nobody was forced to do anything, and nobody got hurt. That it might have been good for her. Then that dickhead Chambers called and told her how he found you and Lila. Now she's convinced that a tendency to incest is inherited and she's sure that if she leaves you and Lila alone for a second...." 




Lost Love



"Hi, honey," Terra bounced into the room, reading the scowl on her cousin's face. "What are you thinking?"

"Oh, I don't know," Nichole sighed. "I'm just in a funk."

"It's about him, isn't it," Terra said softly. "You can't stop thinking about him, can you?"

"I try, but I don't think I'm ready to let go," Nichole said. She pointed towards the big bay window, its light streaming into the kitchen. "It's beautiful out and all I can do is be depressed."

Terra put her arms around her cousin, her friend. "I miss him, too, but Michael died over a year ago. It's okay to move on."

Tears formed in Nichole's eyes. "I know that. I really do. Everything but my heart says the same thing. Today would have been three years since the day."

Nichole buried her face in her hands. Sobs wracked her body. Terra pulled Nichole close and held her for a long time.

"I'm sorry," Nichole said after her tears subsided. She wiped her nose on her sleeve. "I didn't mean to ruin your day."

"Oh, it's not ruined," Terra replied tenderly. "No day with you is ruined."

"Thanks," her cousin managed a smile.

Terra absently ran her fingers through Nichole's hair. The two sat in silence for a while longer. Finally, Nichole sat up and brushed the last of her tears away. "I think I'd rather be alone today."

"Are you sure?" Terra looked worried.

"Yes, I'm sure."

Terra paused for a moment, not sure if she should leave her cousin alone when she was so distraught, so vulnerable. "Okay, but you call me if you need anything."

"I will." 

Nichole walked her cousin to the apartment door. Terra began to chatter incoherently. "–going to the movies later with Gabe and maybe Laurie. We might go out for sushi later. I've got my cell, so call if you feel like going out."

"I will." Nichole wasn't really listening.

Terra stopped just over the threshold and looked deep into her cousin's eyes. "You know Michael would have hated you being like this over him."

"I know. But I can't help it."

"Okay. Call me. Love you."

"Love you, too." Nichole closed the door and heard Terra get in the elevator. 

She walked back through her apartment, their apartment, the home she and Michael were making for themselves before fate intervened. She poured herself a glass of wine and settled back into the couch. The afternoon sun warmed her, just as it had on their first "date".

--------------------------------------

Michael and Nichole grew up together. Their fathers were partners in a local shipping company that supplied fresh produce and groceries to local markets and restaurants throughout Manhattan. They were three years apart in age, but no one could tell by looking at them which one was older. Michael was the first child of three, Nichole was smack-dab in the middle of five.

They all grew up in the same neighbourhood on the lower west side. Their families did business together, they played together, they stuck through hard times together, and they prospered together. For all intents and purposes, the eight kids were brothers and sisters. So having grown up so close none of them ever hooked up; it just seemed incestuous. Which is why everyone was surprised at the company picnic three years ago.

Michael had moved into their parents's shoes. The old men wanted to retire while they were still young enough to enjoy life, and they saw to it that their children were ready to take over the family business, surrounded by faithful subordinates and smart advisors. Michael was not the oldest of the eight, but he had the most business sense. All of the kids worked in either the company offices or the company warehouses when they weren't in school and six of them spent their entire lives employed in the family company, but none of them devoted more time and energy to learning the business like Michael.

Nichole's two older siblings, a brother and a sister, were either too dumb or too smart to take over the company. Nathan was the oldest, and while his heart was as big as some of the skyscrapers in New York, he didn't have the chops for running a company, but he also was humble enough to know where he excelled, which was driving trucks. Emily was a month older than Michael, but instead turned her attention to mechanical engineering and the Air Force; she was literally the family rocket scientist. The other kids fell in after them, and all four held some position within the company, from distribution managers to HR to marketing to IT staff.

That left Michael who, after graduating first from Columbia and then getting his MBA from NYU, was 25 going on 40, poised and groomed to take over the day-to-day operations of the company. Growing up, Michael was a stick in the mud. He preferred the company of adults, didn't have any hobbies, nor any vices. Michael also never noticed girls. He just didn't have the time.

The entire company was closed for only four days every year: Easter, Christmas, Thanksgiving and the last Saturday in April for the company picnic. Nichole's father Ernie liked to throw big parties, and that year was no exception. In addition to their families, every retiree and employee of the company and their families were invited. After almost 40 years in business, that added up to a lot of people. 

Some beancounters say that company picnics are bad for business. They cost money and for a seven-day a week business, cost productivity. Ernie had other ideas. He believed that anything that brought family together was worthwhile. They had the best insurance a small business could afford. They had more family sick time than any other shipping company in New York. He personally sent birthday cards to all of his employee's spouses and children. As a result, company absenteeism was near zero and each of the employees would have taken a bullet for their boss.

Each year, the picnic got bigger and bigger. That year the picnic took over a huge chunk of Central Park's Sheep Meadow. There was the finest food, a band and fun and games for everyone. Ernie had only one rule at the company picnic, which stood for 40 years, and still stands today: no talking about business. He and Michael's father John wanted the picnic to be about family and fun, not about money or shop talk. 

So everyone had fun except Michael, who was bored out of his skull. That is, until Nichole showed up. They hadn't seen each other for two years. While Michael had been studying economics, Nichole was busy working and going to school herself, only instead of concentrating just on business, she dual-majored in business and Chinese. She did her senior year at Wellesley from China, teaching English part time and helping local missionaries build churches and schools.

She was tanned from working outside and her face radiated warmth and friendliness. Everyone liked her. Nichole had always been tomboyish; she played nearly every sport imaginable in high school and her mission work in China kept her fit. She was also a late-bloomer, which was the first thing Michael noticed when she arrived that the picnic; the small bumps on her chest had become larger bumps, and her muscular soccer legs had become long, slim and shapely.

Michael couldn't take his eyes off her. Maybe it was because she had been gone for two years. Maybe it was because she had become a woman without him even noticing. Maybe it was because on the one day a year he couldn't talk or think about the company, she walked back into his life.

"Hi, stranger," she said, giving him a big hug and a quick kiss on the cheek. He put his arms around her and found that he didn't want to let go.

"Hi, yourself," Michael replied. "What have you been up to?"

"I just got back—," she started and the two picked up right where they left off, as old friends. 

For her part, Nichole noticed Michael immediately. He had always been tall, but lanky. Aging had filled him out nicely, and despite the long hours he put in at work, he still managed to find the time to work out and stay in shape. The two really were like brother and sister, but now that they were all grown up, their touches lasted a little longer and were a little more intimate than they had been the last time they met. 

Of course, neither Nichole nor Michael noticed how close they were, but everyone else did.

The two unconsciously spent almost all of the afternoon together. It was a warm April day in New York. Between the softball game and the food and the other company contests, there was a lot to do, but Michael and Nichole spent most of their time talking and catching up. Their brothers and sisters watched in mute disbelief. No one said a word to either and left them in their oblivious world of bliss.

By late afternoon, the picnic was winding down. Most folks had left and the clean up crew was taking care of the last little messes. The family patriarchs, John and Ernie sat together with their wives and some of the stragglers. They watched as Nichole and Michael left arm in arm.

"How long?" Ernie asked aloud.

"How long what?" his wife asked.

"Eh? Eight months," John said.

His partner snorted softly. "Six."

" 'Til they're married or engaged?" John's wife asked.

"Married," the two men said simultaneously.

"Loser pays for the reception," Ernie extended his hand.

"Deal."

Not quite six months later, on a cool Autumn day in October, John wrote the check, and the company closed down for five days that year.

--------------------------------------

Nichole basked in the memories of that afternoon. 

The sun was up and her apartment looked out over Central Park West. Her windows were open and a cool city breeze swept through the halls. She picked herself up off the couch and walked to the kitchen and poured herself another glass of wine. There was a picture next to the fridge, taken the night of the picnic. Nichole smiled wistfully and fell back into her reverie.

--------------------------------------

After leaving the picnic, Nichole and Michael took a long stroll through the Park, a quiet haven among the bustle that was New York. They came out near the Guggenheim. Michael hailed a cab.

"Let's get something to eat."

"That would be great." Nichole got in as Michael held the door.

"Where would you like to go?"

"Surprise me."

They went to Umberto's, a well-known Italian restaurant in Little Italy. It could have been Fazoli's and it would not have made a difference to these two. They just wanted to share each other's company. They continued to talk and laugh and reminisce. Then, sometime between the biscotti and the salad, or maybe it wasn't until the veal arrived, Michael and Nichole fell in love. 

At the end of the meal, the owner of Umberto's, a long-time customer and family friend took their picture, had it framed and sent it to them later. They were sitting in a corner booth, shoulder-to-shoulder. Michael had a big, goofy grin. Nichole was smiling nervously. They were holding hands. 

After dinner they walked around some more, which usually isn't a bright idea in New York at night, but they didn't care. Neither wanted the night to end.

A little after midnight, their feet tired from walking, Michael and Nichole stood in Times Square, which bustled even in the middle of the night. Illuminated by the neon lights and surrounded by the sounds of their hometown, the two stood silently as the world passed around them. Michael had his arm around her; Nichole rested her head on his shoulder.

"I guess we need to get you home." Michael said finally.

Nichole smiled mischievously. "I don't think I'm ready to go home yet."

"We could go see what's showing over at AMC. I've heard good things about—"

"Michael," she snickered. "Shut up. Mom said you were living over on Central Park West. Let's go to your place."

He blushed and hurriedly flagged down a cab.

Michael's apartment was on the fourth floor of a seven floor building. It encompassed almost half of the entire floor and had a wonderful view of Columbus Circle and the southwest corner of Central Park. It was spartan, but familiar, even for Nichole, who had never seen the place before. There were pictures of their families on the walls and a beat up couch that they used to play on in the brownstone where Michael grew up.

"This place is wonderful," Nichole said. Michael went to check the messages on his answering machine but she stopped him. "Not now."

He looked deep into her eyes and saw something that hadn't been there when they were reunited earlier. Hunger. Desire.

Michael took Nichole in his arms and held her close. She returned his embrace. Their foreheads came to rest together and stayed like that for a long time. All Michael could hear was his heart pounding. He felt her warm breath against his lips.

She brushed her fingertips against his neck and they kissed. It was awkward at first, but that faded quickly as their passion overtook them. It was wet and sloppy. Delicious.

Michael's hands ran over her back and waist. Her hands grasped his hair and shoulders. She let out a low purr as he kissed his way to her ear, nibbling softly on her lobe. Nichole gasped as Michael kissed his way down her neck, and she dug her fingernails into his back when he got to her collarbone.

Nichole pulled at his shirt and started to unbuckle his belt, but he stopped her. 

"Not here." Michael picked her up and nuzzled against her neck. "Bedroom or couch?"

"What's closer?"

"Couch."

"That sounds good." Nichole pulled him closer. 

He took a couple of steps. "Where do you want to wake up?"

"Bedroom."

Michael carried her into his bedroom. She kissed his face and held him close. Starlight shone through the windows that dominated the apartment.

Michael lay her gently down on the massive oak bed. Nichole pulled him towards her. She pulled his shirt over his head and threw it across the room. Her hands explored his bare shoulders and chest.

Their lips locked together as each undressed the other. Michael's shorts and boxers fell to the floor. Nichole's blouse came unbuttoned and her breasts heaved with each laboured breath. Michael's hands brushed against her erect nipples before coming back to pinch them gently.

Nichole's hands went to Michael's bare ass as he unzipped her shorts and pushed them down along with her panties. He lay atop her, bared physically and emotionally. He could feel her breasts pressed flat against his chest.

She pushed him back and sat up, shedding the rest of her clothes. Nichole took an admiring gaze at her childhood friend, standing there naked in the darkness. The moon illuminated his figure, basking him in a deep blue light. Her eyes settled on his face, almost angelic in its compassion and wisdom. 

Michael stared back, lost in Nichole's beauty. She propped herself up on her elbows and pushed herself back on the bed, resting against his pillows. Her hand was extended. Inviting.

With a quickness bourne of lust and desire, Michael lunged at her and she pulled him close, their naked forms melting together. Nichole kissed him deeply, her tongue wrapping around his. Her hands brushed against his back before settling on his buttocks, pulling him close.

Michael's lips left a wet trail again across Nichole's cheek and down her neck to her collarbone, but he didn't stop there. Cupping a breast in each hand, Michael kissed down her chest before settling on one of her nipples. She cried out and pushed her bosom forward into Michael's eager mouth.

He continued to explore her body with his hands and with his mouth. Biting. Nibbling. Caressing. He could feel the warmth of her sex against him. Inviting.

Michael pulled her close and lifted her off the bed. With one hand he brushed some of the pillows to the floor and pulled the comforter and sheets down. He lay her back on the bed, kneeling above her. His cock was fully erect and she took it in one hand, pulling him down with the other.

She guided him towards her, kissing his cheek, breathing in his ear. Nichole rubbed his cockhead against her clit and labia, sending a shiver up her spine.

Michael kissed her deeply again. She continued to rub him against her steaming sex. He was tumescent.

"I need you inside me," Nichole whispered.

"Condom," Michael managed to grunt.

"I'm on the pill," she replied desperately. He pushed his cock forward into her.

She arched her back and moaned with pleasure. Nichole bit her lip as Michael's cock filled her up. Slowly. Deliberately.

When he was all the way inside her, Michael looked down at his lover. Her body glistened with sweat and desire. Her eyes were closed. He pulled back and thrust in again. Her mouth fell open.

Michael built a rhythm, alternating a few hard thrusts with a few soft strokes. Nichole spread her legs so she could take all of Michael's erection inside her. Her hands gripped his muscular shoulders. He held himself up with one arm and cupped one of her breasts with the other hand.

"You . . . feel . . . so . . . good," Nichole managed between strokes. Michael smiled and pulled back so only the tip of his head was inside her. Then, without warning, he thrust deep and hard. Nichole bit his shoulder and dug her nails into his back, not for the last time.

She bucked against him, matching his stride, grinding her clit against the top of his cock. Michael grunted with a primal pleasure on every stroke. Faster and faster. Nichole absorbed each thrust and felt her own orgasm building. 

Michael felt his cock tightly in the grip of Nichole's velvety sex. He could feel it contracting around his swollen head. He knew she was close. So was he. Michael pumped her pussy hard. Faster and faster.

Nichole arched her back one last time as the waves of her orgasm overtook her. Michael saw her eyes roll back into her head and then he started to cum with her. 

She bucked against him and pulled him deeper inside.

Michael felt her warm juices around his throbbing cock, flooding her tight sex. Then his head exploded inside her. The room started to spin.

They each let out one final gasp, consumed by their passion. He could still feel her pussy squeezing his cock, even as her orgasm subsided. There was a ringing in his ears and he could hear his cock pumping the last of his thick cum into her.

Exhausted, he collapsed on top of her. The room continued to spin and then went dark.

"I love you," she whispered.

Michael didn't know how long he was out. It may have been a few seconds. I may have been a minute or two. He was still inside her. She was absently running her fingertips along his back, top to bottom, then in small circles around his shoulder blades. Her gentle touch gave him goosebumps.

Michael blinked himself back to consciousness. He started to pull himself up, but she held him close. 

"Don't leave me."

"Am I squishing you?" he asked.

"No. You feel wonderful right where you are." Nichole's eyes were closed. A slight smile only hinted at the depth of the pleasure she felt from her head to her toes.

Michael stared at her beautiful face, glowing in the soft moonlight. He kissed her gently. Their bodies were covered in perspiration. The room reeked of sex.

She kissed him back before opening her eyes and staring back at him. Neither spoke for a long time.

"What have we done?" he finally asked.

She closed her eyes. A sad look flashed across her face. Then she smiled. "After tonight, we can never be friends again."

"I know. What do—?"

Nichole put her finger over Michael's lips. "Shhhhhhh . . . let's talk about that later."

"Over breakfast?"

"I'm planning on sleeping through breakfast," she replied. "How about over lunch?"

"Deal."

"Now, come here." She pulled him close again. He felt his cock stir with a renewed passion. She felt it, too. "You must really like me; I know you haven't taken any ED pills today and you're already to go again."




Lost Love



"E-what?"

Nichole giggled. "ED. Erectile dysfunction. Viagra."

"Before I'm done, you'll wish I had erectile dysfunction!" he teased.

They fell together again.

The next morning, Michael did something he hadn't done in years: he overslept. 

And Nichole woke up in the same place that she would each morning for the next three years: in the arms of the Love of Her Life.

They missed their lunch conversation and he cooked her dinner in bed.

--------------------------------------

"Oh, god . . . oh, god . . . Oh . . . GAAWWWWWDD!!!!," Nichole buried her face in the pillow as Michael pounded into her.

All he could manage was a grunt.

"Harder . . . harder . . . do . . . it . . . HARD . . . ER!," she arched her back and felt Michael put his hand on her shoulders. He pressed all of his weight down on her, pushing her into the bed with each thrust. Her breasts were pressed flat against the sheets, and with Michael's weight bearing down on her ass, she felt as if she was being split in two. It was glorious.

With one hand, Nichole braced herself against the headboard and rubbed herself furiously with the other. She could feel Michael's balls slapping against her. Her ass stung with every thrust.

Michael let out a loud moan and she knew he couldn't hold out much longer. Nichole arched her back as their orgasms overtook them. Michael's cock erupted. She felt the familiar warm flood of his cum as it mixed with her own. She bucked against him one final time, trying to milk the last of his cum out of the cock that was buried inside her.

Michael rolled to the side and she turned with him, keeping his semi-erect sex within her soft folds. She glanced over her shoulder and saw his eyes flutter. Nichole smiled and took his hand within hers, then placed it on her breast.

Contentedly, she lay there, spooning with her unconscious lover, holding his arms tight around her.

After a few seconds, Michael stirred. He lifted his head off the pillow. "How long this time?"

"Not long, just a few seconds," she turned her head and kissed him tenderly. She pressed her ass against him and wiggled. "Think you can do it again? Want to go for four in a row?"

Michael groaned. "I'm only one man."

"Sissy."

Michael smacked her playfully on the backside.

"Don't start that unless you mean it," Nichole slid Michael's flaccid cock out of her and then turned to face him. He rolled onto his back. She cuddled up against her lover and kissed him again. "Now where were we?"

"I think you were about to rub my neck," Michael said.

"I thought I'd rub something else," she purred. She ran her nails down his stomach.

"Give me a minute, will you?"

"What's wrong, Michael, old age catching up with you?" she teased and kissed him again.

It was a week after the company picnic. Immediately, Nichole and Michael became inseparable. Although she didn't "move in", she spent every night with her new lover, much to the chagrin of her "old-fashioned" grandmother, and much to the delight of everyone else around them. 

"They look so cute together", "It's about time" and "Do you see how happy she makes him" were all whispered among their family, friends and co-workers. 

Both Nichole and Michael were surprised at how quickly they connected. Neither wanted to settle in; he was too concentrated on his work and she was fresh out of school. It just happened. 

--------------------------------------

That's how love works, isn't it? Nichole thought to herself. It just strikes out of nowhere.

Nichole walked back to her bedroom, a glass of wine in one hand. She picked up a box of pictures sitting on the counter. Terra had left them. At first Nichole didn't want to look at them, but today the good memories outweighed the bad, so after settling on the bed, she began to flip through them. They were from her birthday party.

--------------------------------------

Three weeks after the picnic Nichole turned 23. Not a major milestone, but since she spent her last birthday in China, her family threw a big party. They were originally going to have it at her parents's house, but things quickly got out of hand and they had to change it to another venue because so many people were coming. 

People made excuses that they hadn't seen Nichole for so long, or because they were coming to town anyway to see a show, but mostly, the extended family just wanted to see Nichole and Michael together. Ernie and his wife Carole ended up renting out a banquet room at Central Park's Tavern on the Green, not an inexpensive proposition, but it was worth it. After all, they were in on a secret only one other person knew about.

Nichole knew her parents were throwing her a birthday party, but was happily oblivious to the massive amount of preparation that was going in to in. Instead, she was trying to find a job. Ernie and John made it clear to all eight of their children that they would always have a place in the family business, but given her involvement with Michael, the hand-picked successor, Nichole decided that she needed to look for work outside the company.

She earned a business degree in college and also spoke fluent Mandarin Chinese, passable variations of other Chinese dialects, and conversational Japanese. She quickly found gainful (if lucrative) employment as a translator for visiting Chinese and Japanese businessmen. 

Nichole's birthday party was planned for a Saturday night, with a buffet dinner and cocktails. Her sisters Emily and Melissa were charged with keeping her busy for the rest of Saturday. So after waking up with Michael, Nichole went out with them. Shopping and catching up and doing sister things. 

Emily was assigned to a joint project with NASA; by nature her work was secretive, but she managed a weekend away. Melissa was three years younger than Nichole and just finished her freshman year at Columbia. Both adored Michael.

When the three arrived, the party was in full swing. All of their family was there, as was all of Michael's.

Nichole mingled with the well-wishers, but spent the early part of the party looking for Michael, who was conspicuously absent. He arrived about half an hour later, with a big box in his arms. 

Michael set the box on the gifts table and came over to give her a big hug.

"Where have you been?" she asked.

"Your dad needed me to pick something up and it wasn't ready, so I had to wait on it," Michael replied, handing her a glass of wine.

When Michael went to get some food, Nichole thought she was seeing a complete stranger. Michael was engaging, talking, laughing. Animated. Vibrant. The person who had been a grown-up in a kid's body for all his life seemed so . . . so . . . normal. She fell deeper in love with him.

Just past Michael, she saw her parents holding hands and looking towards her. And Michael. Ernie had a sly smile. Carole looked distant, the corners of her mouth upturned. Her eyes had a wistful look to them. Nichole thought she saw her father wink at her.

When Michael returned, he handed her a plate of food and she started to nibble. Emily and Melissa tagged along with him. Emily carried the box Michael brought to the party. 

It was wrapped in white paper with a large gold bow on it.

"Dad says you can open the other gifts later, but this one you have to open now." Melissa took her plate and Emily handed her the box.

The room suddenly got quiet. Discomfortingly quiet. Everyone seemed to be staring at her. Nichole became very nervous. Michael only smiled. Mischievously.

Nichole untied the bow and began unwrapping the present. It was an unmarked rectangular box, two feet high, one foot wide and one foot deep. Nichole looked over at her parents and saw her mother wipe a tear from her eye. 

Nichole's hands began to shake.

The lid came off. 

Under layers of tissue paper was her gift.

"What is this?" she said, disbelief denying what her eyes showed her. She turned to Michael. "What the hell is this?"

"It's a stuffed animal," he replied, deadpan. Teasing. "An emperor penguin, to be exact. I found—"

"Not that," Nichole lifted the plush gift out of the box. Around the penguin's neck was a black ribbon. Tied to a ring. The gold glistened, and the diamonds sparkled under the lights. "This."

"It's your birthday present," Michael took the stuffed animal from his friend. His lover. His soulmate. He untied the ribbon and the jewel fell into his palm. Michael knelt before her. He took her trembling hands in his own. Their fingers entwined around the gold and diamond bauble. Michael slipped it on her finger. Of course it fit perfectly.

"My love," he said quietly. "My love, I can't imagine a day in my life where I didn't wake up beside you."

Tears welled up in Nichole's eyes. She reached out and brushed Michael's cheek with her fingertips. His eyes began to water.

"I can't remember what it was like before you came back into my life. You make me happy. You make me realise how lonely I used to be. I love you." She started to cry. "Nichole, will you marry me?"

Nichole pulled Michael close. Joyous sobs overpowered her. She buried her face in his chest and felt his strong arms around her. "Yes . . . Of course, I will, yes!"

Michael pulled back and lifted Nichole to her feet. She felt as if she were floating. Nichole and Michael held each other, oblivious to the camera flashes, the cheers and the pats on the shoulder.

"I love you," she said in his ear.

"I love you, too," he whispered back. "Now stop crying. I can't stand watching you cry. You're making me horny."

"What's with the penguin?" Nichole asked, not wanting to let go. She dabbed at her eyes. "Do they mate a lot?"

"I don't know about that, but they mate for life," Michael said, and she began to cry again. "See? There are some things on the Discovery Channel worth learning."

She laughed out loud, a euphoric, rapturous laugh. She kissed him on the cheek, at the top of his jawbone. She raked her teeth across his earlobe. His grip on her tensed for just a second. She was sure that if no one else were around, he'd have tripped her right there. 

Melissa and Emily practically had to pry the two apart. Both wanted to be the first to welcome Michael to the family. Michael and Nichole were immediately beset by everyone at the party, with "congratulations!" for both and "happy birthday!" for Nichole.

--------------------------------------

Nichole spent the rest of that night in a daze. The pictures Terra left triggered memories, all of them happy, even though Nichole remembered only bits and pieces herself. Many of them made her smile, but each picture of Michael only reminded her of how empty she felt, even a year later. 

The penguin was the first of many Nichole and Michael exchanged over the next two years and it remained her favourite. She fell asleep with it in her arms nearly every night. Nichole held it close, trying to recapture the feeling of Michael's embrace. But stuffed animals don't hug back.

Nichole finished the glass of wine and looked out the windows, their arches framing the spectacular view. It was late afternoon and the sun was beginning to set. One of the last pictures in the box was of the gift table, overflowing with birthday wishes that had unknowingly become wedding wishes. Nichole smiled. Michael had another gift for her after the party.

--------------------------------------

The party really started after Michael's proposal, and luckily for the couple, took on a life of its own. Michael and Nichole snuck out with the complicity of Ernie and Carole. Of course they knew what Michael was planning. A week before he came to them and asked Ernie for his daughter's hand and for their blessing. Without hesitation, Ernie and Carole gave it.

Right after the congo line started, Ernie waved Michael and Nichole out the back door where Carole and Michael's parents, John and Elizabeth, were waiting. 

"Get out of here, you two," Ernie said, fighting for hug time with his three other dear friends. "We love you."

John pointed them towards the street. A horse-drawn carriage waited.

The driver took them through Central Park. Nichole rested with her head on Michael's shoulder. They rode in silence, holding each other tight. In her hands, Nichole clutched her penguin. The driver let them out at Columbus Circle, just across the street from the apartment.

They took the elevator up to the fourth floor. Michael fumbled with the keys.

"I have something else for you."

"What else could you possibly give me?"

He handed her a keychain in the shape of a heart. On one side was the date, the other read, "I love you. –M."

Michael picked her up to carry her across the threshold to his—to their—apartment. "Welcome home."

Nichole kissed him deeply as he stood in the hallway. He tasted her tears.

All the way to the bedroom, she tried to undress Michael, but he wouldn't put her down. Finally, he set her on the bed where she pounced on him. Nichole covered his face with kisses. Soft pecks. Wet. Deep. Sloppy. Her tongue snaked into his mouth. 

She pushed him down on the bed and straddled him. She pulled at her own clothes, tearing at the buttons and then set to undressing Michael. His shirt came of, but he wouldn't let her go any further. There was a wickedly pernicious glint in his eye.

He sat up and pulled her close. One hand cupped a wondrous, naked breast. His mouth went to the other. Michael made circles around her nipple with his tongue, causing it to stand up. Then he blew softly on it and it hardened immediately. Nichole shivered. He bit softly and she moaned with pleasure.

Michael kissed his way back her chest, to her collarbone, then her neck and under her chin. He breathed in her ear. "Do you trust me?"

"Of course, I do," she moaned.

"Good."

Michael put his feet on the floor and stood, still holding his lover in his arms. She wrapped her legs around him and kissed his shoulders. He turned and sat her on the bed, which was just the right height for him if he wanted to have her right then. But he didn't.

"Close your eyes," he whispered, squeezing Nichole's erect nipple. 

His hands left her for a second when she felt something around her head, covering her eyes. It was soft. Silky. Michael tied the blindfold and kissed her again. He had something else in his hands. Nichole felt more silk being tied to each wrist. 

Michael guided her to the center of the bed and pushed her flat on her back. He placed a pillow under her head. His fingers ran the length of her body, their feather touches causing the hairs on her skin to stand up. Gently, he pulled her skirt and panties down. 

She lay naked, fully exposed and blind. Vulnerable. But with Michael, none of that mattered. Her trust in him was complete. 

Even if she knew he was up to no good. 

She heard him shed the rest of his clothes and felt him cuddle up next to her. His fingers continued to trace lines on her body. Unable to see, the rest of her senses seemed heightened. His touch tickled and aroused her.

"I am going to make love to you," Michael said, kissing her shoulder. "If I do anything that makes you uncomfortable, just say 'stop'. Do you understand?"

"Yes," she moaned softly.

"Say it."

"I understand," she purred.

"Good."

Michael straddled her chest, his hardening cock resting between her breasts. He took her hands and made Nichole cup her tits, then she squeezed them together around his engorged sex. His hips moved forward ever so slightly and she felt the head of his cock slip out from between her breasts and under her chin. He continued with several short strokes, playing with her nipples. 

She felt a hand lift her head forward and found the head of Michael's cock at her lips. They parted for him eagerly. She tried to put her hands on his ass, meaning to draw him deeper into her mouth, but he pulled on the ties around her wrists and her arms fell away from him.

Keeping up the same short strokes in her mouth instead of between her breasts, Michael tied the bonds on each wrist to the posts on his headboard. Nichole lay there, helpless. Completely at his mercy.

Nichole gave a disappointed sign as Michael withdrew his cock from her mouth. Michael lay on top of her, his hard cock wet with her saliva, so near her hungry pussy. She started to grind against him, hoping he would relieve her desire. But she knew he wouldn't. Not yet.

Michael rolled to the side, his body still pressed against her. Propping himself up with one hand, he took the other and turned her blindfolded head towards him. His tongue forced his way into her mouth, penetrating her. Violently. Lovingly.

His hand roamed down her body, stopping to roll her nipple between his index finger and thumb, then continuing down her naked form. His hand forced her legs apart. He ran his fingers in small circles along the insides of her thighs. Her body buzzed with anticipation. Her clit tingled at the nearness of his touch.

Nichole pulled against the ties holding her down. She wanted so much to take him in her arms and feel him inside her. She wanted . . . no, she needed his touch to release her.

Finally, Nichole felt a finger touch her swollen clitoris. He pressed against it softly, then harder. His fingertip touch became stronger, more intense. Faster. She bucked against his hand. She felt his cock twitch against her leg. Oh, how she wanted him!

Michael moved his finger faster and harder against her sex, every now and then pausing to dip a finger inside her wetness. His tongue continued to assault her mouth, rough and tender at the same time.

Her lover's strong hand pressed against the nub of her sex, wet from her juices, swollen with excitement. She pressed her chest against him as best she could, frustratingly bound to the bed, desperate to feel as much of his touch as possible.  

Michael kissed behind her ear, at the top of her neck. She shivered with delight. A gasp escaped her lips as one finger, then two, penetrated her. His breath teased her neck. Michael left a line of slobbery kisses down her neck to her collarbone, then he traced the same line and blew softly. The coldness made her shudder and she pulled again against her bonds.

"What do you want me to do to you?" he whispered in her ear.

"Fuck me."

"Not yet," he teased, rubbing her clit again. "What else?"

"I want you to eat me."

"Where?"

"My pussy," Nichole moaned.

"How do you ask?"

"Pleeeeeaaasse," she wailed, pulling again at the ties. She needed to put her arms around him. She needed to force his head between her legs. She needed him to make love to her.

"Please, what?"

"Please eat my pussy, Michael. Please, God, please," her voice became a whisper. "Please eat me. Please . . ."

Nichole imagined the broad smile her begging brought to her love. Michael pulled away from her, although his hand never left her sex.

What's he doing? she thought. What's he opening? It sounds like a cooler—

She cried out in surprise when the ice cube touched her nipple. She felt the areole contract and goosebumps covered her entire body. A shiver ran the length of her spine.

Nichole squealed with delight as he moved the ice cube all over her breast, leaving a cold trail of water on her body. She felt his breath on her breast as he took the ice cube in his mouth and paid equal attention to her other nipple and breast. 

All the while, he continued to massage her clit and sex with his hand. Rubbing, pressing, penetrating.

When the first ice cube was nearly melted, Michael dropped it back in the cooler, got another one and took it between his teeth. She thought she heard him get something else out of the cooler, but the touch of the ice made her forget about everything except Michael's touch. With the edge, he made a line down her belly, until he was laying between her legs. He pushed them further apart




Lost Love



She nearly fainted when the ice cube touched her clit. She imagined it turning to steam instantly. The heat of her body mixed with the cold of the ice made her shake uncontrollably. Nichole felt her clit harden just like her nipples at the touch of the ice. In ecstasy, she rolled her head back and forth on the pillow. Nichole moaned. Under the blindfold, she saw stars as the fireworks started.

Then, as quickly as the icy touch started, it was gone, replaced by the warmth of Michael's mouth. On her clit. She reflexively tried to sit up, but her bonds held and she collapsed back on to the bed. Already super-sensitive from Michael's earlier treatment, Nichole's clit exploded with pleasure as his hot mouth enveloped her steaming sex, sopping up ice water and her wetness alike.

Nichole cried out again as she felt something else cold enter her where Michael's warm fingers had been. She didn't know what it was but made her head throb and she nearly fainted again. The object was almost as long as Michael's cock, just as wide and ice cold. It had a bulbous head that aroused her insides while her lover assaulted the outside of her sex with his mouth.

She could feel him turn the thing in her pussy into a piston as he sucked and nibbled on her clit. Nichole moaned and grunted in time with Michael's tongue as it lashed against her, only to be replaced by his teeth raking against her sex.

"That feels so good," Nichole moaned. "Oh, God! That feels so good . . . I'm about to cum, please don't stop . . . please don't stop . . . please . . ."

As he worked her pussy over, Michael reached up and squeezed one of his lover's breasts. It sent her over the edge. With an ear shattering scream, Nichole lost herself to the orgasm. It consumed her.

She bucked her hips against his mouth. She felt her pussy flood with cum, which Michael lapped up and devoured. She pulled against her ties, wanting to pull Michael's mouth harder against her, but to no avail.

Nichole screamed. And moaned. She was in heaven.

Her orgasm subsided, but didn't stop. Michael wouldn't let it. Still working the rod in her pussy, Michael kissed his way up to Nichole's face and kissed her. She could taste herself on his lips. 

Her tongue entwined his. Their teeth knocked together and their lips bit and nibbled at each other.

She felt him climb on top of her. How she wanted to put her arms around him. The rod was removed from her pussy. Michael pushed himself up until he was on his knees.

Nichole felt something rub against her clit. His cock. Warm. Hard. She moaned with desire.

She tried to wrap her legs around his waist, as if to pull him inside her. But he pushed her legs apart.

Back and forth. Back and forth. Michael's cockhead took over for his hand.

"Michael," Nichole cried out. "I need you inside me."

"You do?" She felt him bend over and his mouth locked on to one of her breasts. He continued to rub his sex against hers. 

"Yes."

"How do you ask?" He slapped his cock against her clit.

"Please, Michael!" she said, desperately. 

"Please, what?" He slapped her again with his cockhead.

"Please fuck me," Nichole sobbed. Her desire overpowered her. Her need was insatiable. Her voice was but a plaintive whisper. "Please fuck me, Michael. Please . . ."

"Of course, my love." Michael kissed her tenderly, wiping away the tears that fell out from under her blindfold.

Her mouth fell open as she felt his head push into her. She arched her back as his cock penetrated her ravenous sex. Slowly. It seemed to never end.

She gasped as she felt his cock all the way in her. He kissed her again, his tongue penetrating her mouth as his cock penetrated her pussy.

Again, she tried to put her arms around him, but she could not. She wanted to envelope him in her embrace. To pull him close. To give him the pleasure he gave her.

Michael began to pump his cock in and out of her slowly at first, then faster. And harder.

Nichole felt another orgasm begin to build. Or was it a continuation of her first one? She didn't care. 

The tingling sensation increased. She could hear Michael breathing hard and moaning. She felt his cock moving inside her. 

In and out. In and out.

Michael took her legs and spread them wide, then put her calves on his shoulders and began to drive his cock into her. With every stroke, there was a sharp slap! as the hilt of his hard sex connected with her and a shiver ran up her spine.

Nichole pulled futilely against her bonds. Tears of desire and lust flowed down her cheeks as another orgasm cascaded over her. 

She cried out in pleasure as her whole body seemed to catch fire. It started in her toes. Michael pumped faster and harder. His hands went to her breasts. They squeezed and pinched. He kneaded them together. All the while using his cock like a hammer on her pussy.

Nichole thrashed underneath him, overcome with passion. She tried to buck her hips against him. The ties held her down and Michael steadied her, but she felt freed, released as she came all over Michael's cock, buried deep in her sex.

Under the blindfold, she saw stars as she peaked. It was like having an out of body experience. She heard herself scream. She felt her heart pounding its way out of her chest. She felt her pussy throbbing, contracting. Wild spasms wracked her body. She cried out again.

With a final sob, Nichole mercifully blacked out.

She didn't hear his final moan, nor did she feel his cum shooting inside her.

When she came to, she could only hear her heart still pounding in her chest. She felt Michael next to her. She felt his hand running along her body. His touch was comforting.

Nichole moved her arms. They were stiff, but Michael had undone the knots. Finally released, she put her arms around him and held him close. Her body still tingled from head to toe.

She opened her eyes and blinked back the light. It was dark, the room only lit by the stars, but after being under the blindfold for so long, it still took her some time to adjust.

"Hello, lover," Michael returned her embrace.

"How long?"

"Not long," he smiled. "Just a couple of minutes."

"What did you do to me? I can't move."

"Good." He kissed her tenderly. She closed her eyes. The musky aroma of sex permeated the room. 

"Where did you learn how to do that?"

"Your brother bought me The Complete Idiots Guide to Amazing Sex last year as a birthday present. I think he thought I was spending too much time at work." 

"I don't know if I should thank him or kill him."

She jumped when she felt his hand touch her still swollen, still sensitive clit. "Hey! Stop that!"

"What's wrong?" Michael said teasing. "Can't keep up with an old man?"

He attacked her again. And again.

And again.

--------------------------------------

Nichole put Terra's pictures away. It was nearly dark. The apartment was quiet. She hated this time of night. It was right about the time when she and Michael would come home and have dinner together. She half expected him to walk through the door and tell her the last year had been a horrible dream.

She knew she was hungry but didn't want to eat. She knew she was lonely but didn't want to by around anyone else.

Stop this!  Nichole scolded herself. Stop feeling sorry for yourself.

Nichole put the stuffed penguin back on the bed and walked to the kitchen. She picked up the phone and dialed.

"Hello, Terra? Where are you guys? Great, I'm starving. I'll meet you there in 10 minutes."

--------------------------------------

Five months after getting engaged, Michael and Nichole were married. For anyone else a three week courtship may seem like a very short time, but in reality, the two spent 23 years getting to know each other; just no one knew they were supposed to end up together. 

They tried to keep the wedding small, and for the most part, they succeeded. The wedding itself was low key and intimate. It's the guest list that couldn't be pared down. Ernie and John invited not only family, extended family and friends, but all of the company employees, who were basically extended family and friends.

Nichole did most of the planning, not because she was obsessed with her wedding, but because she knew Michael didn't care about most of the details and because she knew he trusted her not to go too far over the top. There was a small list of things for him to do, and he did all of them without complaint and in his usual efficient manner. She also had a very capable (and willing) compatriot in Michael's secretary who made most of the calls and did the bulk of the hard work, often on her own time.

When the day of the wedding came around, all the preparations had been made, everything was paid for and all Nichole and Michael had to do was show up.

Like every other day they were together, Nichole woke up with Michael's arms holding her tight. She rested her head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. He was still asleep. He looked so peaceful.

The morning sun shone through the windows. Nichole lifted her head and tried to quietly leave the bed, but Michael was a light sleeper. He caught her hand.

"Where are you going?"

"I've got plans for today," Nichole smiled playfully. She kissed him.

"You do?" Michael said, in feigned shock. He pulled her close. His hand strayed to her naked body. "I have a better idea. Why don't we just spend all day in bed?"

"Because I can't spend all day screwing my boyfriend!" she laughed and slipped out of his grasp. She bounced teasingly into the bathroom. Michael heard the shower begin to run. He bounced in after her.

A short time later, cleaned, fed and dressed, Michael and Nichole sat on the couch, looking out their windows. They cherished the quiet together. Neither said a word. Both knew it would be a long day. Michael held her close. Nichole absently ran her fingertips over his arm.

There was a knock at the door. 

"I love you, Nichole."

She stood up and kissed Michael on the cheek. "I love you, too."

Nichole went to the door. It was her sisters Emily and Melissa, Michael's sister Courtney and the maid of honour, Nichole's best friend Maureen.

They each gave Nichole and Michael a hug and a kiss.

"It's time to go, sis," Emily said. She patted Michael on the head and tussled his hair. "The next time you'll see her, you'll be getting married."

"I can't wait."

Melissa gave Michael a second hug. "It must be nice being a guy. All you have to do is put on a suit and a tie 10 minutes before the whole thing starts, and then you're done. No hair, no makeup."

Michael just grinned.

The five girls left, Nichole pausing for one more pre-nuptial kiss. 

Then the apartment was quiet. Michael had been alone there before, but it seemed strange this time. This would be the last time he would be single and alone in this place, or in his life. Michael looked around the apartment and thought back to the transformation it had undergone over the last six months. Thought back to the transformation he had undergone over the last six months.

Nichole had brought him to life, out of the doldrums of his daily existence, out of the routine that had become his life. He laughed more, he was a better boss; he felt passion rather than obligation.

All around him were reminders of his love. Pictures, art, elegance. Everything a single guy's apartment lacks. Her touch was everywhere, and he was a better man because of it.

Michael sat on the couch, thinking how lucky he was when the phone rang. The caller ID showed Nichole's cell phone number.

"Hey, honey." She sounded like she was running. "Are you still on the couch?"

"Yes."

"Good. Are you dressed?"

"Not any more than when you left." Michael was puzzled.

"I'm almost to the elevator. I told the girls I left something in the apartment and just needed to run up and get it. Take your shorts off."

He listened to her catching her breath. He heard the elevator ding!  Her next words made the hair on his neck stand up.

"I want you hard when I get up there." Then she hung up.

When the key hit the lock, Michael was stroking his cock in anticipation. The two enjoyed a lot of spontaneous sex, but there was something different in her voice. Hunger.

Nichole flung the door open. Michael turned over his shoulder to see his bride peeling off her sweatshirt. She wasn't wearing a bra.

She vaulted over the back of the sofa. Michael started to get up, but she pushed him back down. Instantly, she was on her knees in front of him. 

Nichole took his hard cock in her hands and her mouth descended on it. Her lips locked around his head, then she took its entire length down her throat.

Michael's body went rigid. He gripped her shoulders. Nichole began bobbing her head up and down on his cock. Normally she would go slow, built him up, make him beg her to get him off. But not this time. She was on a mission.

After almost six months together, she new what made Michael tick. And what made him pop. She raked her teeth against the swollen head of his cock. She tickled the slit with her tongue. She nibbled on the soft spot right under his head that drove him crazy.

With the end of his cock in her mouth, Nichole used her hands on the rest. Up and down on his shaft. She cupped his balls and squeezed gently. Up and down some more.

Taking a quick glance up, Nichole saw Michael with his head thrown back, his eyes closed. His hands gripped a pillow to either side of him. His knuckles were white.

The combination of her lips, teeth and tongue were driving Michael crazy. She knew this. Any other time, she would have let him down from this point, just short of blasting his load in her mouth, only to bring him back again and again. Teasing.

She loved the power of giving a blow job. Most of the time, she liked being submissive to Michael. She trusted him. She loved him. Nichole liked to feel his weight on top of her. She liked the pleasure he brought her.

But sometimes, she enjoyed being in control. Being the fellatrix gave her that control. 

With a sigh, Nichole bit softly on the bottom of his cockhead and sent Michael over the edge.

With a quick jerk, she took Michael's cock out of her mouth and pointed it straight at her chest. His engorged penis flared and shot steaming cum on to Nichole's breasts. Thick ropes of his seed sprayed out on her. His head continued to pulse. Using both hands, Nichole milked his cock, coaxing out every last drop of cum on to her exposed body.

When she was satisfied that there was none left for her, Nichole released his semi-flaccid cock and began to rub her lover's cum into her chest, around her collarbones and even up to her neck. Michael's cum was thick and warm. Her nipples were hard with excitement, and she indulgently pinched them. If her bridesmaids weren't waiting in a car downstairs, she might have mounted Michael and gotten herself off right there.

When all of Michael's cum was rubbed like lotion into her soft skin, Nichole stood up. Michael hadn't recovered. He was breathing heavy, his eyes were half-open, partly exhausted, seething with desire. His cock was slick with her saliva, twitching. She hated to waste a hard-on but she had to go.

She kissed him quickly on the cheek. 

"I want to have you with me all day," she whispered in his ear.

As quickly as she came in, she was gone. Back out the door, pausing only to put her sweatshirt back on and wash her hands.

Then Michael was left alone in the apartment. Again.

--------------------------------------

Nichole met Terra at Yummy Sushi, one of their favourite sushi bars on the near Washington Square. Terra's boyfriend Gabriel was there, as were some of their mutual friends Julie, Mark and Laurie. 

"What's with Julie and the tiara?" Nichole asked Terra.

"Today's her birthday and she thinks it's all about her," her cousin grinned. "Hey, later tonight we're going to a new club over near the Village; you're welcome to come with us if you want."

"I'll think about it," Nichole replied. "What's it called?"

"Leviathan. It just opened last week. It's apparently very hot. Mark made special arrangements with Naked Boys Singing to perform there especially for her."

"Sounds like fun."

Nichole and Michael had been regulars at this place and the sushi chef recognized her immediately. With a hearty greeting, he began sending food their way, no menu necessary. She always enjoyed the casual atmosphere here and the presence of her cousin and friends made Michael's absence a little less painful.

--------------------------------------

Nichole spent the rest of her morning getting her hair and makeup done. It seemed to fly by. By mid-afternoon, it was time to get dressed and head over to the church for pictures. Michael had his taken first with the wedding party, then it was her turn. They didn't have any pictures taken together until after the ceremony.

The wedding was in a small Episcopal church on the lower west side. The church was packed with their friends and family and largely devoid of any major wedding day complications.

As she walked down the aisle, arm in arm with her father, Nichole fixed her gaze on her love. He was so handsome in his simple black tuxedo. Even surrounded by people, she felt that the two of them were alone.

The ceremony was simple. Nichole and Michael wrote their own vows and exchanged rings. The pastor delivered a short homily. Tears flowed down her fathers cheeks as he gave away his daughter to a young man he loved as much his own children.

After the quick wedding, it was on to the dinner reception. It was also a wing-ding of a party, but unlike their engagement celebration, there was no escaping. John, who was paying for the party after all, rented a country club on Long Island for the reception and truly went all out for his son and new daughter.

Nichole and Michael made their way through the guests, taking some time to talk to each. She was a radiant bride and he, like most grooms, was an uncomfortable guy in a penguin suit. Her penguin.

There was dancing and laughter and family and well wishes and everything else that was part of the "perfect" wedding. Like most weddings, it truly was perfect. At least as far as Nichole and Michael were concerned. The food was excellent, the band was fun and everyone they cared about was there to help them start their new lives together. There was cake-cutting, pictures, dancing and bouquets.

All throughout the night, Nichole could still sense traces of Michael on her, despite the perfume and food and other scents. It both comforted her and turned her on. As they danced their first dance together, Nichole whispered in his ear, "You're still on my chest, Michael. I can smell you."

The look in Michael's eyes was one of pleasure and torment. Pleasure at the memory of the morning; torment at not being able to rip her dress off and fuck her senseless right there.

The party ended well after night fell. Finally, Ernie and Carole corralled the bride and groom into a waiting limousine and it was off to their hotel back in Manhattan.

The newlyweds were exhausted after a long day. Neither said word for a long time. The drive back to Manhattan was peaceful and quiet. Nichole rested her head on Michael's shoulder. They held hands. 

The limousine took them to the Plaza Hotel, one of New York's oldest and most luxurious hotels, and literally a stone's throw from their apartment. The driver let them off and amidst cheers from the hotel staff and a handful of other guests, they new couple was escorted up to their suite.

Someone (probably Ernie) must have called ahead; their bags were unpacked, and a hot bath was already drawn. A bottle of champagne sat in a bucket of ice next to the bed. The bed was covered in rose petals. The bellhop congratulated them again and left before Michael could even offer to tip him. Michael picked Nichole up and carried her across the threshold to the bedroom.




Lost Love



She kissed him tenderly. He set her down on the bed and she started to undress him.

"I need a bath," Nichole whispered in his ear. "Would you care to join me?"

"I think I'll fall asleep in the tub."

"Then you get undressed and I'm going to clean up."

Nichole got up off the bed and began to disrobe, carefully hanging up her wedding dress. Both were too tired to say much of anything. Michael took of his tuxedo and put on one of the hotel's robes. Nichole chuckled to herself as she watched Michael double-check to make sure everything was where it was supposed to be. 

Just like his father, she thought.

Nichole disappeared into the bathroom, taking the champagne with her. The tub was hot, with a nice mixture of oils and scents in the water. She soaked for a long time, thinking back on the day and how perfect it was. When she almost dozed off in the bath, she realised it was time to go to bed.

She dried off and slipped into a robe. 

"Honey, where are the—," she stopped when she saw Michael asleep on the bed. Drained from a long, hard day. The television was on. The Discovery Channel. As if he doesn't watch enough shows about sharks, military aircraft and geodesic formations. At least it's not a show about tanks.

After hunting for the remote, Nichole flipped the TV off, turned out the lights and crawled into bed beside her husband. She listened to the rhythmic sound of his breathing and fell asleep.

Sometime in the middle of the night, Michael awoke with a start. He was in the middle of an odd dream: two brown bears in tutus were riding bicycles through the streets of Paris. Everyone around them was naked except for fig leaves over their genitals and pasties covering their nipples. He was the only one who was completely naked and he was looking for a quart of motor oil.

He didn't have time to ponder the dream's deeper meaning; in the groggy state between a deep slumber and alertness, he realised Nichole was not in bed beside him. He started to sit up, but a strong hand pushed his chest back down. He collapsed back into the bed.

Something warm enveloped the head of his cock. He felt a hand steady his erect cock and the warmth descend down the shaft. He raised his head to see Nichole going down on him. The top of her head bobbed up and down steadily. Her ass was raised up on her knees between his legs.

Nichole gave his cock a series of wet, sloppy kisses, leaving a coating of warm saliva on his sex. She swirled her tongue around his head, and nibbled softly on the underside. She was rushed giving her last blow job; she was going to make this one last.

With one hand she cupped his balls as the other hand moved up and down in time with her mouth. Her rhythm varied and every couple of strokes she took all of his length in her mouth and down her throat.

Michael began to moan softly. He closed his eyes and fell deeper into the pillows.

"Oh, God, that feels so good," he whispered.

"Shhhhhh," Nichole said softly. "You're asleep."

After raking her teeth across his head, Nichole planted a series of soft kisses down the length of his cock, down the soft underside. Her hand gently ran its length in firm strokes.

She took one of his balls in her mouth, then the other. Michael arched his back. His spine tingled.

He could feel her hair brushing against the insides of his thighs. Her breath teased his cock while her mouth sucked on his balls.

Nichole put her hand over his testicles and her mouth went back to his cock. In a quick circular pattern, she ran her tongue all of the most sensitive parts, pausing every few seconds to take all it in her mouth.

Michael felt the tip of her tongue teasing the slit at the end of his cock, causing a shock wave of pleasure throughout his body. He felt the head of his cock start to pulse and knew he was close.

Nichole felt it too, and removed her mouth from his cock. She looked up to see Michael splayed out on the bed, his arms flung to the sides. His head rolled back and forth as she brought him back from the edge of his orgasm, using her hand to keep the stimulation constant but not overpowering. 

Michael whimpered as his orgasm receded. "Don't stop."

Nichole smiled to herself. Satisfied that her lover wasn't on the verge of cumming, Nichole attacked his cock again with her mouth, using her tongue, lips and teeth on him.

She ran her teeth across the bottom of his circumcised cockhead, then pressed the top against the roof of her mouth, eliciting a satisfied groan from Michael.

As she kissed the insides of his thighs, Michael brushed her hair out of her face. She looked up at him, trying to gauge his desire and deciding how long to hold him off.

Again she brought Michael to the verge of orgasm, and again she brought him down again. He started to buck his hips into her mouth, trying desperately to find the release he craved.

"Do you like that?" Nichole asked, biting the spot where his head met the shaft.

"Yes," Michael slurred.

"Do you want to cum in my mouth?" She licked the slit.

"Yes."

"What will you do for me, if I let you cum?" Nichole stroked him urgently, holding him at the cusp of his orgasm.

"I'll love you for every day of my life," Michael promised.

"Sounds good to me. Hang on to something."

Nichole's mouth covered his cockhead again. Her tongue swirled around it. She raked her teeth across it. 

She squeezed his balls.

Michael felt his balls explode in Nichole's mouth. She felt the veins on his cock go rigid. His head throbbed. She pressed his swollen phallus against the top of her mouth as the first jets of cum came streaming out. She swallowed it all. Two. Three. Four times he pulsed. 

Michael arched his back and let out a bellowing moan. His hands gripped the sheets. His whole body tensed. Five. Six. Seven. The streams slowed as his orgasm passed.

Nichole ran her hand along the length of his cock, milking the cum from it. Eight. Nine. Ten. Savoring it.

Looking up, Nichole watched Michael's face as he came. He was flushed. His eyes were closed. His mouth hung open, breathing heavily.

She licked his cock one more time then crawled on top of him, straddling his cock. Quickly, she began to rub it against her clit. Despite having just emptied inside her, it hardened immediately at the touch of her sex.

Going down on Michael excited her, made her wet. Masturbating with him made her soaked. Electric chills ran up her spine as she rubbed him against her. Her nipples hardened.

Steadying herself with one hand, she continued to rub him against her with the other, until she was close to her own orgasm. Michael lay on the bed, his eyes still closed. She admired his chest and arms. His beautiful face. His strong, gentle hands.

With a sigh, Nichole pointed his cock at the opening to her sex and dropped down hard. With a single motion, she took his cock inside her pussy. Her mouth fell open. She tingled from head to toe.

Nichole bent over and kissed Michael hard. Her tongue entwined with his. He could taste himself in her mouth. Her hair brushed against his face. 

"My turn," she whispered in his ear.

Nichole lifted herself up and bounced down again on his cock. She cried out. Sitting up, she took his hands in hers and placed them on her breasts. He began to knead them together. He pinched her nipples.

"That feels so fucking good," Nichole moaned. "I love it when you play with my tits."

"I love it when you ride my cock."

Nichole leaned forward into Michael's hands, so he could steady her. His favourite part was coming up.

Very quickly, she began to bounce up and down on his cock, impaling herself on her lover. Her husband.

With every stroke, she cried out a little louder. She closed her eyes.

Up and down. Faster. Harder.

"You are so hard for me," she gasped. "You feel so good."

"Cum for me," Michael whispered. "Cum all over me."

Nichole threw her head back, pushing her chest out. Michael squeezed her breasts hard. She lost herself as her orgasm built. 

The cock inside her touched all the sensitive spots. She heard her ass slapping against Michael's hips every time she came down on him. Her moans turned to screams.

Harder. Faster.

As if in a dream, she heard Michael say, "I'm about to cum inside you. Please cum with me. Cum on me."

With a feral moan, Nichole brought herself down on him and the fireworks started. For a brief instant, she forgot who she was. She forgot who she was with. All she cared about was the fire that consumed her. The passion that enveloped her.

Her pussy filled with her cum, coating Michael's cock and flowing down on his balls and to the bed. In her eyes, colours flared, her vision focused singly on her husband's face, lost in his own orgasm. She continued to grind against him, rubbing her clit against the base of his cock, frantically trying to take as much of him inside her as she could.

It seemed to never end. She hoped it would never end.

She stopped moving, taking all of his length inside her. Maybe it was imagined, maybe it wasn't, but she could feel his cock head pulsing inside her, emptying his balls into her womb.

Her orgasm subsided, but didn't go away. There was a pleasant buzzing in her ears. She could feel her heart pounding. 

Only Michael's strong, steady grip kept her from falling over.

A contented smile formed on her lips. Nichole took her husband's hands from her breasts and without dismounting him, straightened her legs and lay on top of him. She pressed against his chest. Michael held her close. Her toes still tingled.

They kissed again. Tenderly. Lovingly.

"Thank you." Michael said softly.

"Shhhh, you're asleep." Nichole rested her head on his shoulder, listening to their hearts beating together. 

She drifted off with him inside her.

--------------------------------------

Nichole felt good to be out with Terra and her friends. For the last year, she had been despondent over Michael's death, but her grief had given way to loneliness, her heartache reduced to a dull, empty place in her soul.

Terra, Gabriel, Julie, Mark and Laurie gave Nichole her space, but clearly wanted her to let go of her solitude, even if only for a night. After dinner, they went to the club, where Mark had made arrangements for some of the cast of Naked Boys Singing, to give Julie a special birthday performance.

For the rest of the night, Nichole forgot about Michael. She forgot about the sad look on her father's face when he came to her doorstep. She forgot about the trip to the hospital. She forgot about her heart breaking when she saw Michael's broken body. She forgot about the funeral.

With her friends and a bunch of naked gay men singing, dancing, and goofing off, Nichole laughed. Sometimes so much her stomach hurt and she couldn't breathe. Sometimes so hard tears streamed down her cheeks.

It was the best time she had since, well, since Michael died.

"Do you want me to stay with you?" Terra asked at the end of the night.

"No," Nichole said. She didn't want to go home and be alone, but she wasn't dreading it either. "I'll be all right."

--------------------------------------

Nichole woke up alone. She heard Michael in the bathroom. It sounded like he was shaving. She lifted her head. It was almost eleven. Her hair was a mess. She could smell Michael's sweat and cologne on the pillow. The sweetness of her own sexual exertions mixed with Michael's.

"Honey," she called out. "Come back to bed."

"Not a chance, you minx." Michael's head appeared in the door. "We're supposed to meet everyone for lunch at noon."

Nichole rolled over on her side so she faced her husband. She beckoned to him. "C'mon, Michael. Meet your fate like a man."

"Come shower with me." He was trying to placate her and delay the inevitable.

Nichole threw off the covers, exposing her naked body. "I'm waiting."

"Good lord!" Michael laughed. "You're insatiable."

"I'm a newlywed. And I'm horny," she purred. She rolled over on her back and spread her legs. She ran one hand the length of her body, her fingernails brushing her skin. Nichole settled her hand on her breast and began rolling the nipple between two fingers. "Now get over here and perform your husbandly duties."

The smile disappeared from Michael's face. Nichole could tell he was getting hard. Michael's eyes burned with desire.

Nichole's other hand went to her pussy, which was filled with cum, both from her and her husband. She pressed two fingers against her clit. She moaned softly.

"I'm going to get off with or without you, Penguin," she called again. Her hand moved faster. "I'd rather it was with you."

She looked over at Michael. He was standing in the doorway. Naked. His cock was hard. He was stroking it.

"We'd better not be late."

"If we are," Nichole sighed as she struck a sensitive spot. "You can spank me."

She closed her eyes. The hand on her breast squeezed. She bit her lip. She could hear Michael approaching her. Then she felt his weight upon her and the first day of their marriage started with fireworks.

--------------------------------------

Nichole arrived at her apartment a little after midnight. It was dark.

Opening the door, the only light in the apartment was from the small desk lamp in the foyer that she left on all the time. She walked into the kitchen, past all of the pictures hanging in the hall of the short time she and Michael had together.

For the first time in a year, Nichole didn't dread walking into the bedroom and wasn't deafened by the silence of Michael's absence. She undressed and got ready for bed. Her hair smelled of smoke and liquor splashed around by the Naked Boys.

Pulling her favourite nightshirt over her head, she crawled into bed with her penguin. Out of habit, she crawled into "her" side. Within a few minutes she was asleep. When she woke up, she was in the middle of the bed.

--------------------------------------

The next year and a half was idyllic. With the company under Michael's capable guidance, Ernie and John retired. Nichole continued to work as a translator and business consultant while working on her graduate degree at NYU. 

They spent their honeymoon in the Caribbean and for Christmas, Nichole took her husband to Hong Kong. They talked of starting a family. They planned the rest of their lives together. Neither knew what the future held, but they fell deeper in love.

On baseball's opening day, Michael planned to drive up to Boston with some friends to see his Yankees play the Red Sox. It was a cool Saturday morning and they woke up with the sun. Michael and his buddies were leaving late morning and coming back later that night.

Nichole rested her head on his chest. His strong arms held her close. He patted her on the backside and drew her close. He cupped her face with his hand and she kissed him.

"I love you," she said quietly, pulling back as Michael tried to kiss her again. She smiled. "I've got a surprise for you this morning."

"What is it?"

"I'm going to shower and make you breakfast."

"In bed?"

"Not quite."

With that, she bounded out of bed, naked, and went into the shower, wiggling her ass teasingly at her husband. She had a lot of work to do and wanted to be extra clean for him.

A short time later, Nichole came out of the bathroom, wrapped only in a towel. Her hair was pulled back, still damp. Michael was in bed, watching Animal Planet; Predators & Scavengers, or something like that.

Nichole went over to him and kissed Michael on the cheek. He tried to grope her under the towel. 

"Hey, keep your hands to yourself," she loved watching him pout. "Or you won't get any breakfast."

Nichole paused once more at the door before closing it. "Don't come out until I call you."

At one time, their apartment was one big room. The building itself was formerly a warehouse. When it was bought and renovated for residential use, the owner divided up the floors into suites. Michael rented out two of the apartments on the fourth floor and combined them into one big apartment.

The walls were still the original brick with high vaulted ceilings and large bay windows that wrapped around the entire building. Since they had almost half the floor, there were lots of large open areas with hardwood floors that reflected the warmth of Michael and Nichole.

The kitchen and living area was one big space with an island in the middle of the cooking area. In one corner was an informal dining area, with some couches and chairs near the windows where Nichole and Michael relaxed when no one else was around.

Nichole was a fairly good cook, but not as good as Michael. She descended on the kitchen, putting some bacon in a frying pan, some pancakes on the skillet and cut up some fruit. Nichole got out her mother's made-from-scratch biscuit recipe and went to work. She heard Michael start the shower.

Then she began setting out her other breakfast treats.

"That smells great, honey," Michael called when he was done cleaning himself. "Is breakfast ready?"

"Almost." She replied, checking to make sure everything was in place.

She threw her towel across the room and set the last few items in just the right places. "Okay, Michael, come and get it."

Michael opened the door and stopped dead in his tracks.

The previous Fall, they took a trip to Ohio to visit some of Nichole's friends from college. While in Amish country, they picked up a magnificent table and had it shipped home. It was a rectangular picnic-style table with benches, hand made with typical, high-quality Amish craftsmanship. The heavy oak wood was stained to bring out a deep, rich colour.

One of the benches was on the side of the table, the other was at the foot, perpendicular to the table. Several candles were lit around the kitchen and dining area, their vanilla-scented wax permeating the air. Nichole was lying on her back, her feet on the bench with her freshly-shaved pussy showing for her husband.

Breakfast was all over the table. And Nichole. Michael chuckled at his wife's creativity.

A tuft of whipped cream covered each of her nipples. Strawberries and slices of melon covered her stomach. Bacon, eggs and pancakes were on a plate between her legs. A biscuit was on each thigh, which also drizzled with honey and chocolate chips on her smooth skin.

"Looks good enough to eat," Michael said. He bent over and kissed Nichole. A long, deep, messy kiss.

"It's all here for your culinary delight," Nichole smiled when he let her come up for air.

"Where do I sit?"

"At my feet, of course."

Michael sat on the bench, careful not to pull it out from under Nichole's feet. Nichole had a pillow under her head and she watched Michael begin his breakfast. His eyes kept drifting to her smooth pussy, spread wide for him.

Every couple of bites, Michael stood and fed his wife a piece of melon or strip of bacon. He took a biscuit off her thigh, cut it in half, then scraped a knife across her leg, slowly, collecting the honey. A chill ran up her spine. 

When he was done with his plate, he took it to the sink then came back and sat on the bench next to his wife. There was still some fruit on Nichole's stomach. He took a piece in his hand and then sucked the whipped cream off one nipple. It was hard underneath.

In a small circle around her areola, Michael pressed the melon against Nichole's breast. It was cold. She shivered with delight.

He popped the cantaloupe into her mouth

Then Michael took another melon bite and paid the same attention to her other breast, feeding it to himself. She felt her nipple in his mouth. His teeth bit it softly and he pulled gently. Her breast stretched until he let it go. Her chest jiggled.

When all the fruit was gone he kissed her from her the base of her breasts to her hips, sucking up all the fruit juices. Nichole bit her lip to keep from crying out with pleasure.




Lost Love



Michael began to knead her breasts in his hands. He kissed her again. Her tongue worked its way into his mouth. She bit his lip softly.

Reaching over to a vase on the table, Michael took a rose in his mouth, careful not to stick himself with a thorn. His hands returned to her breasts.

Slowly, deliberately, he brushed the rose against Nichole cheek. The soft petals made her skin crawl. 

Michael's hands began to wander, rubbing, caressing. His featherlight touch tickled and teased her in all the right places.

The flower brushed against her breasts. Nichole arched her back with pleasure and moaned softly.

Michael worked his way down her body until he was sitting on the bench again between her legs. 

Placing the rose on the table, Michael began to lick the rest of the honey off her thighs. His lips lingered on her skin. 

Michael's teeth scraped against her. Nichole moaned again, louder.

She could feel her sex throbbing. He was so close to where she wanted him, but delighted in teasing her. Gradually, he worked his way up each leg, nibbling on every square inch. Driving her crazy. Until all the honey was gone.

The kisses became longer, more intense. He bit the most sensitive part, just on the inside of her thigh. Nichole gasped. He did it again on the other side.

She reached down and ran her fingers through his hair. Her eyes were closed.

Nichole felt him pull back, then his hands were under her ass. He pulled her body towards him and set her back down so her ass was on the edge of the table. Her feet still rested on the bench.

And then he kissed her.

All the blood in her body seemed to rush into her clit as Michael's lips enveloped her.

"Holy God!" Nichole cried out. "That feels so good, Michael!"

His tongue flicked against her clit. She could feel his breath against her skin, still sensitive from the shaving.

Michael took her clit between his lips and squeezed. Nichole squealed with delight.

In small circles and then larger ones, Michael massaged her sex with his tongue and mouth. Nichole couldn't contain herself and began to buck against him. Her hand gripped his head and she pulled him towards her. 

A finger replaced the tongue on her pussy. "If you don't stop moving, I'll quit."

She moaned in protest.

"But that feels so good . . . "

Michael resumed his oral attack on his wife's pussy. She could barely contain herself.

"Oh, Michael . . . God, that feels so good . . . so good . . . Yes! Right there! Right there! Yes, Michael . . ."

She felt is tongue enter her. He was breathing on her clit. She was in heaven.

Strong hands lifted her buttocks off the table as Michael devoured her sex. Biting. Nibbling. 

He lapped up her juices. Nichole closed her eyes as she felt her climax approaching.

"Yes, right there . . . That's the spot, Michael . . . That's it . . ."

She closed her eyes and started to see flashes of colour. The fireworks were about to start.

"I love the way you eat my pussy . . . I love . . . Oh!"

His tongue mashed against her swollen clit.

"Oh, God! . . . I'm about to cum . . ."

The room started to spin.

"I'm about to . . . Oh, yes! . . . Oh, God, I'm . . ."

Her toes tingled.

"Yes . . . Yes! Eat me, Michael . . . Eat meeeee! . . . NOOOOOOOO!"

She howled with frustration as she heard Michael push the bench he was sitting on back. He lifted her off the table. She was so close!

Her feet hit the floor and her legs almost gave out. Michael's arms steadied her. Frantically, she reached down and began to finger herself, rubbing her clit, trying to summon the orgasm that was slipping away.

"Put your hands on the table," he commanded.

She ignored him, desperately trying to finish herself off. A sharp slap! across the backside got her attention.

"Please, Michael," she wailed. "I need to cum!"

"Put your hands on the table," he said again, forcefully. When she paused another slap! stung her bare bottom.

Each hand went to the edge of the table. Michael pushed her forward so her rear was sticking out. He hooked one foot inside her ankle and kicked her legs apart. She stood there, bending over, her arms and legs spread.

Michael pressed against her back. She could feel his hard cock through his sweatpants. She pressed her ass against him.

"What did I tell you not to do?"

"But it felt so good . . . you were—"

Slap!

"What did I tell you not to do?"

"You told me not to move," she cried out plaintively.

"And what did you do?"

"I couldn't help it, Michael! I need—"

Slap!

"And what did you do?"

"I need to cum, Michael!" Tears of frustration began to run down her cheeks. "Please, Michael! Please eat—"

Slap! Slap!

"And what did you do?"

"I moved," she whispered. "I moved when you told me not to."

"That's better," he whispered back in her ear. His breath tickled and aroused his earlobe. His hand gently caressed her stinging backside, which surely was a bright red from the spanking.

He took her earlobe between his lips and sucked gently. She moaned with pleasure. He continued down her neck, leaving a trail of wet, sloppy kisses, then blew cold air along the same path. She shivered with pleasure.

Michael's lips were soft and gentle across the back of her neck. His teeth raked the most sensitive parts. She felt the sparks of a new orgasm begin to build within her.

His cock was rock hard and pressing against her ass.

She reached back and began to fondle his hard-on, but another slap! and her hand went back to the table.

"I didn't tell you to do anything else with your hands." His voice was hard. Authoritative. In control.

Nichole whimpered in frustration.

Her husband continued across her back, leaving a trail of kisses and nibbles, first across her shoulders, then down her spine.

Reaching around, he cupped her breasts. He squeezed them and she let out a soft gasp. He pressed his cock harder against her backside. She wanted him. She needed him.

Her desire overtook her and she started to grind her hips against his. He pulled away and the kisses continued down to the base of her spine. He kissed her across the small of the back. She tingled with excitement.

Nichole closed her eyes and bit her lip when he pinched her nipples, then his hands were gone.

She heard his sweatpants fall to the floor as Michael kicked them off.

A strong hand slowly pushed her down, until she was bent over. Her ass stuck out and her legs were spread wide. The table felt cool against her breasts and face.

Michael's sex was between her legs, his erection pressing against her throbbing pussy. His pubic hair tickled her ass.

She felt one of his hands on her backside, then felt the head of his cock rubbing between her ass cheeks. He teased her anal opening, then his head was rubbing lower, against her swollen clit.

Nichole braced herself as Michael pressed his cock into her hungry sex that was slick with her juices. He entered her slowly. Deliberately.

When he was all the way in, he held it for a long moment, filling her up with his hardness. She squeezed his cock with her vaginal sphincter. She heard him grunt with pleasure.

Spreading her arms, Nichole gripped the edges of the table and held on as Michael pulled back, then thrust back in.

Michael's fingers dug into her ass. When he pulled out, he pushed her away. When the tip of his cock was almost ready to slip out, he pulled her towards him and rocked his hips forward at the same time.

Each thrust brought a satisfying slap! as he buried his cock inside her.

Nichole gasped with each thrust. His hips moved furiously as he assaulted her from behind. Even the heavy oak table shook.

Rear entry was one of Nichole's favourite positions. She loved the submissiveness of it. She loved being at Michael's mercy. She loved the feel of his entire length inside her. She loved being impaled upon her husband's cock. She loved giving in to the trust and love of allowing her husband to dominate her. To pleasure her. To control her.

With one final hard thrust, Michael slowed his rhythm. Instead of fast and furious, he held is cock inside her for long moments, then slowly withdrew until he was almost out of her, then slowly—teasingly—pushed back in.

He moved his hips from left to right, stretching her in a different direction.

"Oh, Michael!" she mumbled. "That feels wonderful . . ."

Suddenly, he thrust deep inside her and held it for a long, long time. He let out a feral growl

She knew he was close to cumming. If she moved or squeezed with her pussy, she would push him over the edge. If she let him go for a few seconds, his orgasm would recede and their lovemaking would continue. She was half tempted to grind on him and set him off after he was so "mean" to her earlier when he didn't finish going down on her, but decided against that. She was having too much fun!

Michael let out his breath and she knew he was ready for more. Her ass still stung from the spanking, and was still sore from his hands bracing against it, but she wanted more.

She felt his chest press against her back and he kissed her in the middle of her spine, right between the shoulder blades. He pulled her up off the table, and she propped herself up with her arms, her hands never leaving the table.

Both of his hands reached around to cup her pendulous breasts and he started to slowly work his cock in her pussy again.

One hand rolled an erect nipple between its index finger and thumb, while the other worked its way down her stomach to her bare pussy.

Her labia were spread wide and Nichole shuddered when Michael began rubbing the nub of her clit. She felt her pussy flood with even more juices. Her body was covered with sweat.

The hand on her breast let go only to grab a handful of her hair and pull. She cried out in surprise. Her back arched. Michael turned her head to the side, exposing her neck and throat.

Michael's teeth bit into her neck. Nichole's mouth fell open. He didn't let go of her hair and even pulled harder. His rhythm increased, both in his thrusts and the hand that was fingering her clit.

The hand left her clit and she felt him grab a second handful of her hair. Her back arched even further as Michael used her hair to pull her into him. Nichole began to scream with pleasure.

"You are so hard for me . . . that feels so fucking good!"

He pulled harder.

Michael bit her at the top of her neck, just behind her ear. "Touch yourself."

One hand went to her pussy. It was soaked.

She could feel Michael's balls and stroked the bottom of his shaft as he continued to move in and out. Two fingers began to rub back and forth against her clit.

The dual sensations of his cock inside her and the hand on her clit was driving her crazy. The room began to spin again and her knees trembled as her orgasm came.

"Oh, God! . . . Oh, yes . . . I'm about to . . . .I'm about to cum . . ."

She felt Michael press his cock deep inside her and he held it as her hand worked over her clit. The tingling came back to her toes. 

Michael let go of her hair and cupped her breasts again. He steadied her while at the same time stimulating another of her erogenous zones. 

"Oh, Michael!" Nichole began to rock her hips back and forth on his cock as her pussy exploded with sparks of ecstasy. 

Her pussy started to contract uncontrollably and it set Michael off. She could feel his cockhead pulsing inside her and the warm sensation of his cum mixing with her own.

With a heavy sigh, Michael pulled his cock out of Nichole, then she felt is strong arms around her. He picked her up and carried her the short distance to the couch. He plopped down, exhausted.

She straddled him and took his spent cock inside her and they sat together silently caressing each other. Savouring the post-coital glow.

"Thank you for breakfast," he said finally.

"You're welcome." She kissed him gently.

"Are you going to have dinner ready for me when I get home tonight?" He smiled.

"I think you're going to be out too late for dinner, but if you ask nicely, I just might make you breakfast tomorrow."

"I don't think you could top breakfast today."

"I've still got a few tricks, Mister," she teased.

"Good. I'll look forward to that." He kissed her between her breasts.

"Promise me something, Michael."

"Anything, my love."

"Promise me you'll love me forever."

He looked deep into her eyes. It seemed as if were gazing into her soul. "I promise I'll love you until the day I die."

--------------------------------------

Nichole woke up the next morning and felt good. A little groggy, but not hungover. The sun was shining through her windows.

Something the night before had changed. It wasn't anything she could put her finger on, but her first thought that morning wasn't a feeling of dread or self-pity. 

She walked to the bathroom, and started the shower. The warm water washed over her, cleansing her not only physically, but emotionally. A year later, she realised that was the day she turned the corner from grief to healing.

Wrapped in a towel, Nichole went to the living room. The city was just getting up. There was a cool autumn breeze coming through the windows.

Nichole settled on the couch, a bottle of diet soda in her hands. Nichole sat there for a long, long time, her gaze settled on the silver urn that hadn't moved in almost a year.

It was time.

--------------------------------------

The look on her father's face was serious. Nichole immediately knew something was wrong.

They stood in the entryway to the kitchen, staring at each other for an eternity.

"Get your purse," he whispered. "And your coat."

"What's wrong?" Nichole managed to get past the lump in her throat. Something happened to Mom, or one of the other kids.

"It's Michael," Ernie said quietly. "He was in an accident."

"Is he okay?"

The look in her father's eyes told her everything.

Nichole folded into his arms. She felt him holding her up. She started to cry.

Ernie's heart broke as Nichole's sobs overtook her. His paternal instincts were to shield her from the pain and evils of the world, but there was nothing he could do about this one. All he could do was hold her and fight back is own tears.

When Nichole was little, she was scared by thunder and lightning. During the particularly bad storms, she'd cry out and Ernie would come in and hold his little girl, making the thunder less threatening and rocking her back to sleep.

Ernie rocked her back and forth in his arms. Nichole's tears gradually subsided. She held on to her father for a long time.

"Come on," Ernie said, wiping the tears from his daughter's face. "We need to go."

Nichole steadied herself against the kitchen counter as Ernie gathered up Nichole's purse and coat.

There was a cab waiting outside which whisked them away to the ER at St. Vincent's. Nichole was in a daze.

The entire family was waiting at the hospital. Michael's parents John and Elizabeth sat quietly, holding hands, as if in shock.

Nichole's mother threw her arms around her. "Do you remember Jimmy Williams? He's over at the reception desk. You need to go talk to him."

Jimmy was one of Michael's friends from high school. Now he was one of New York's Finest. He gave her a hug. 

"Hi, honey." He smiled, but his voice was grave. "How are you doing?"

"I don't know," Nichole said. "What happened?"

"I talked to Bryan a few minutes ago; he's a mess now. It looks like Troy and Mikey dropped him off at his place, then were coming down Broadway." Jimmy winced. "They were coming this way and a cab ran a red light at 53rd. Troy swerved and clipped a Toyota in the right lane. He lost control, bounced off a third car and got rammed by a bus from behind."

Nichole started to tremble. Carole put her arms around her daughter.

"Troy was thrown out of the car and died on the way in." Jimmy paused and drew in a deep breath. "Mikey wasn't wearing a seatbelt. He hit his head on the windshield and the airbag blew up on his chest."

The room started to spin. Nichole felt faint. She felt Carole and Jimmy lead her to a chair. She collapsed into the cushions. 

"Ronny and I got there right after the ambulance did, but they still had to cut him out of the car." The policeman paused again.

"Is he okay?" Nichole whispered.

"Sure he is. Mikey's tough like that." He was lying. Nichole didn't care, though; he told her what she wanted to hear. "Remember when Rhett hit him in the head with the baseball? It's just a bump on the noggin."

"How long has he been in there?" Nichole pointed towards the ER surgical suite.

"About 45 minutes," Jimmy took her hand. "Listen, I've got to write up the accident report on this. If you need me, I'll be right over there."

"Thanks, Jimmy."

Carole started to chatter. That was a bad sign. Her mother talked and rambled when she was nervous, scared or both.

"Jimmy came over as soon as they got Michael out of the car. He said he didn't want some stranger to deliver the news to us," Carole said. "He's such a sweet boy. It's too bad we couldn't fix him up with your sister. His parents are the nicest folks. You know, they came to your wed-"

She stopped in mid sentence. Nichole turned and saw the door to the ER room open. A man in surgical scrubs came out. He walked over to the nurse's station. The world seemed to be moving in slow motion. Everyone got quiet.

The doctor talked with the attendant at the nurse's station. She pointed towards John and Elizabeth, then Nichole. He began to walk towards them, taking of his gloves, mask and safety glasses.

John and Elizabeth stood. Carole pulled Nichole to her feet. Everyone gathered around.

"Good evening, folks. I'm Dr. Rivas," he said in a pleasant voice. "You're Michael Galloway's family?"

"That's right," John said. "How is he?"

"It's not good. He had a couple of broken ribs, a punctured lung and a concussion." The doctor paused. A pained look flashed across his eyes. Nichole drew in a sharp breath. "That's the easy part."

He stopped talking for what seemed like an eternity. "His blood pressure has been extremely low. I can't say for certain, but it looks like one of his heart valves may be leaking or stopped working. We got him stabilised, but he's going to need emergency heart surgery. Dr. Tran is prepping him right now."

"How long do you think he'll be in surgery?" someone asked.

"It's hard to say. I'm not a cardiovascular specialist. They should be taking him up any minute now."

"Thank you, doctor," John said quietly. He wrapped his arms around Elizabeth, who was crying softly.

"If you need anything else, I'll be here all night." He turned and walked back to the nurse's station, ready for the next case.

Nichole choked back the tears. She was confused. Angry. Scared.  Why weren't you wearing a seatbelt, Michael? You can't leave me like this!

She started to sit down, but snapped her head around when she heard the door to the surgical suite open. A pair of orderlies and a nurse wheeled Michael out of the room and down the hall towards the elevator. She started after them.

Michael's body was covered by a sheet. He had a neck collar on and a tube down his throat. His head was covered with bandages where his face hit the windshield. There was blood in his hair. He looked so helpless.

Nichole panicked. She started to run after him. Nathan caught her arm. "You can't go with him."

"The hell I can't!" She tried to twist free of her brother's grasp.

"Nic, let them do their jobs."

Filled with frustration, anger, fear and helplessness, Nichole lashed out and struck her brother. The suddenness and ferocity of the strike caused him to let go of her arm and he took a step back.




Lost Love



This story is for Yas. You know that you're the inspiration, and also that incessant nagging voice when I get too lazy. MG, I hope you find the courage to take that step to happiness some day. You deserve so much more simply because of the person you are. This is meant as a dedication and a heartfelt thank you for all that you are in my life. Love you.

* * * * *

Kathryn stood at the open window, nine storeys above the city, her hands on the waist-high sill. A soft breeze played with the ends of her hair. She stared at the view laid out in front of her, her eyes taking in the stark beauty. The blackness of the night seemed like a perfect reflection of her mood. The thousands of separate twinkling lights scattered like so many diamonds of a broken necklace, a fitting parallel to the shards of her own aching heart. The silence echoed her loneliness.

Behind her was her lover, splayed out on the bed between tangled sheets still warm from sex.

Her mind went over the past two days. Where had it gone wrong? From his arrival at the airport yesterday to this moment, it had been idyllic. Why then did she feel this deep overwhelming sadness now? She thought back through the two days, each instant and every detail playing out in her mind in clear visuals. 

* * * * *

Soft brown hair, the greenest of eyes, a sharp, straight nose and dangly earrings that caught the light and glinted with the smallest shake of her head. She made a lovely picture as she sat in one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs, her legs crossed, glancing at her watch repeatedly, impatiently. The material of her dress hugged her torso, wrapping itself over and between her breasts, collecting at her waist and hanging down in an irregular cut a little below her knee. The leg that dangled in the air showcased high heels and a delicate ankle on which a tattoo trailed away and vanished into the inside of her leg - shapely, slender legs. 

Kathryn had taken care with her appearance. She had to look her best for him.

Once more she peeked at her watch, and noticed the wedding ring still on her finger. She had forgotten about that. Quickly taking it off, she slipped it into the clutch purse in her lap. Perhaps she should stop wearing it altogether...? 

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and wondered if she should go check herself in a mirror once again. Maybe her lipstick needed refreshing? A quick brush through her hair perhaps? 

The nervousness was unnecessary. Anybody looking at her would tell her that she embodied perfection. And if she paid any attention to the looks of the men around her, she would know it. Every male eye was surreptitiously looking at her. The women were more open with their stares, envious, almost jealous. She looked more like one of the models on the covers of her magazines than the editor in chief of the country's leading women's fortnightly.

Kathryn fidgeted again, took out a cigarette, lit it and inhaled deeply. Fifteen more minutes according to the last announcement. She smoothed a hand over the faultlessly ironed dress, feeling the soft fabric under her palms. He would like that. Texture was a big thing for him. She thought about later, when his hands would be on her dress. Would he stop to caress the smoothness before taking the dress off her? Or would he be too impatient to take her?

A shiver ran through her slight frame at the thought. 

The first passengers started arriving just as she stubbed out her cigarette. She got up and walked over to the railing to look for him. He said he'd only have his carry on bag. He should be among the first ones off the plane.

Her eyes scanned the flood of people scurrying out from a single point of entry. Hands clutching the metal railing, she felt a tightening in her stomach. Now that the time had finally come, she was too nervous. More than nervous. Would it be the same as the last few times they'd met? Or...?

They had been having problems lately. Too many fights. Too many little squabbles. Too much frustration. And, she suspected, not enough love. 

She had thought long and hard when he had suggested that they meet for Valentine's Day. Two days to themselves. He had suggested them as a peace offering - and as a beginning to meeting more of her demands she hoped. Her doubts about the both of them had not been put to rest totally, but he had asked her to trust him about this. And she had.

Her eyes met his above the heads of hurrying humanity and she forgot everything else. He was striding through the crowd, having a little difficulty due to his broad frame. He tapped on shoulders and excused his way through, his eyes darting away to look at where he was going, but coming back to her, holding her gaze for a scant moment, then moving away again. Each time their eyes locked, she felt a tingle somewhere deep within her. 

And then he was walking out of the gate for passengers to her right, on the other side of the railing still. She matched his pace on her side of the railing, their eyes locked on each other as they walked the length of the railing that was two-deep with people waiting for their loved ones. 

Her eyes roved over his face, his hard features, his unconventional looks, the intensity in his eyes. He was not handsome. If she had one word to describe him, Kathryn would choose powerful. His rugged features combined with his wide-shouldered build were a very potent and deadly combination, as many of his colleagues would no doubt confirm. His forceful personality and strong mind were an added asset in his chosen profession. His record of cases won was testimony enough. 

He was powerful, he was successful, and he was hers. Well, his heart anyway, if not all of him.

They reached the end of the railing and turned into each other's arms. His broad body engulfed her slender one. The bear hug was a little too tight for her, but she didn't mind as she buried her face into his warm chest, her whole body pressing into his, shamelessly. Her hands wrapped themselves around his waist and she felt his solidness under her palms, delighting in the feeling. Tears formed behind closed eyes as Kathryn fought to control the intense emotions flooding through her.

God! She had missed him. 

A kiss landed on the top of her head. "Hello, love," he whispered. 

A small tear escaped and she sniffled. 

"Oh, baby." The hands on her back worked up and down, soothing her. "You okay?"

She nodded against his chest and wiped the corner of her eye with one fingertip. Taking a deep breath, she leaned back to meet his eyes. "I missed you something awful."

"Kath." His eyes were moist too. He cleared his throat. "I missed you too." He looked around them then, over her head, noticing where they were. "Let's get out of here."

They could barely keep apart in the cab all the way to the hotel. His hands refused to stay still, stroking her hair, parts of her shoulder, upper arm, entwining his fingers through hers, playing with the hem of her dress until she took them in hers with an amused look and held them still, captive. So he just looked at her. His eyes roved over her body, stripping her and warming her to his gaze right there. 

Finally, they arrived at the hotel. She could sense his impatience as they went through the lobby, the registration and finally to the lift and the corridor to their room.

* * * * *

That first time was pure need. Hurried, passion-filled, eager fingers and half-breaths as their hands vied with each other, groped at hooks and buttons and zippers as soon as they were behind a closed door. The urgency mounted. Clothes came off, almost ripped, and he was staring at her in a lacy slip. 

He paused in the headlong rush to smile and trace a finger over the lace edge, running it lightly over the swell of her breast. "Beautiful," he murmured before burying his nose between, taking in the hint of perfume that she always dabbed between her breasts. 

Her hands found the back of his head and wandered in his hair, delighting in the soft richness. Fingers flexed around handfuls as his tongue licked at her, lingering, moving up to her collarbone, tracing a path up her neck in small, random, ticklish stabs. 

She squirmed, as he knew she would, and pulled him to her, wanting him to kiss her. They clung to each other, hands moving, not able to decide which part to touch first, or pause at. It was amazing how they found their own harmony in the confusion of arms, clothes, shoulders and hips, never once stopping or fumbling in their need to get at the other. 

They undressed what was left between greedy kisses in perfect, unspoken coordination. She never knew when they moved to the bed, but they were there and he was laying her down on the springy mattress, coming down beside her, wrapping his bulk around her slight figure. 

He never stopped, his mouth finding places that he knew pleasured her, his hands tracing vivid patterns on her back and his hips pushing into hers with a raw need that took her breath away. When he entered her, she cried out with the force of it, pressing her hands down on his lower back to tell him to go on.

And he continued, with his hands crossed under her head, his head buried beside hers, his breaths laboured and warm against her naked shoulder, her body covered by his and her ankles hooked around the back of his knees while he thrust himself right into her core until there was nothing but the warmth of him surrounding her, his feel inside of her and his scent in her senses and she finally splintered like the hundreds of tiny spots against the lids of her tightly closed eyes, her nails digging into his back, tears slipping down in wet trails down the sides of her face into her hairline. 

Somewhere, at the outer edges of her consciousness and within the circle of her arms, she felt him tremble, tense and say her name in a tortured moan as he plunged into her one last time before shuddering into a gradual stillness and collapsing on top of her. 

They rolled onto their sides and he gathered her against his chest, trailing a hand down her spine as he whispered his love to her. She luxuriated in the togetherness, her mind lazily trying to gather all the various imprints of his body against hers. Her hands roamed his chest. The liberally sprinkled hair tickled the tips of her fingers as she ran them through it.

"I don't want to let you go," he told her, and that's when she felt that first twinge at the place where she thought her heart was. Why should he have to let her go, she thought. Why say this now? Her arms closed around him, tighter, and he reciprocated, both of them joined together in mind and body as they pressed into each other.

The next time they made love was slower, gentler, languorous. They took their time, rediscovering how to pleasure each other all over again, reaching out and exploring places, reactions, feelings. He laid his mark on her, branded her with his teeth, with a squeeze, with a fingertip, with a look. She got overheated at his gentle marauding, wrapping cool sheets around herself when she couldn't take it anymore; and then he touched her through them, running his hands over her sheathed body or sucking at the cloth until it stuck to her in damp patches on which he blew, making her laugh. 

He peeled them off her and simply looked at her until she felt like her whole body was blushing, and then he kissed every bit of her, bowing his head over her and telling her without words what she meant to him. Each touch was a silky caress, each wet kiss a delight. 

Kathryn had never felt happier. It felt like his love was liquid warmth that he was pouring on her from the intensity of his eyes, the tenderness of his touch and the broken hoarse whispers of his incomprehensible words.

When he took her again, she felt every sensation minutely... his hands on her hips, his length filling her, their joint desire thick and sweet. The afternoon turned to the diffused orange-red of the early evening as they made love in slow abandon, again and again, savouring each touch, squeezing the most pleasure out of their togetherness.

Totally wrung out by the time it was dark, they realised that they were hungry. Ravenous. He had booked a place for dinner through a friend, but it was still some time before they were due there. So they had two packets of Cheetohs in bed before they got dressed.

It was precious, the illusion of domestic everyday life they went through in that impersonal hotel suite. The completely normal way they used the bathroom together, not minding the other's presence, Kathryn pinning up her hair in the bathroom mirror while he had his shower. And then she forgot to breathe when she saw him in the suit that hugged his shoulders. 

Dinner was exceptional. The restaurant he'd booked was one of those posh, luxurious places, with that hushed, expensive silence falling around them in heavy waves, broken only by soft, romantic music and the tinkle of silverware. Everything was just right and discreetly made to sink into the background to relax them and help them concentrate on each other, and they did.

Food was another sensual affair, conducted publicly, through their eyes; and tongues and lips and spoons and forks. It was something you could do only with someone who knew the different parts of your mind better than you knew them yourself. A certain lick of the corner of your lips and a dropping of the eyes or that particular look and the tightening of a hand over a napkin, small gestures, but telling only when you were attuned to each other to perfection.

Back in their room, they cuddled, her face against his neck, and talked. He told her about his latest case and she related the latest cover page gaffe and how she had hired a new fashion editor. He told her about the antics of his toddler and she went through the recent problems she'd been having with her daughters. Words and touches intermingled, comfortably getting slurred and slower as they got sleepier, the tiredness of the day finally catching up with them until they finally fell asleep in a warm tangle of arms and legs.

* * * * *

She woke up to him nuzzling her neck. Hooking one slender arm around his neck, she stretched languidly, arching into his body as he looked on at her unselfconscious beauty. 

"Happy Valentine's Day, love," he whispered into her soft skin.

She smiled as she whispered it back to him.

A sleep-filled kiss later he asked her what she wanted that day. "Your wish, my lady, is my command," he pronounced.

She paused a bit before answering. "I want my every morning to be filled with you. I want your arms to hold me like this and you waking me up like this. I want many more nights like yesterday and I want to be secure in the knowledge that you're mine. I want to hug that thought to myself and make it come true." Her voice lowered to a whisper. "I want... I want... I want a whole lifetime with you."

She swallowed.

"But... right now, breakfast," she continued, trying to diffuse the moment. "And after that, I want to walk through the streets with your hand in mine, looking at windows filled with beautiful things and buying them in our dreams and planning what we'd do with them. I want to be a tourist and take lots of photographs. I also want you to buy me flowers and a cool drink. And maybe a straw hat."

His smile spread against her skin as her list wound down, and there was a nibble at the mention of a straw hat. "Yes, it wouldn't be quite the same without the straw hat," he agreed.

And the day was exactly how she had imagined it to be. Right out of a dream. But only so much better. They went to all the touristy places, with all their noise and crowds and the common, sweaty smell of too many humans that went through these places everyday. They never noticed. All they seemed to see was each other, the way his eyes lit up at her smile, the way the sun highlighted golden sparks in her hair as it shone through, the way their hands fit perfectly, the way she charmed the ticket collector at the gate with a bright grin.

They walked around with their arms around each other, seeing everything like it was the first time. Trees. Birds. The cracks in the pavements. Everything was too intense, too clean, too concentrated, edged faintly with pink and tied with a ribbon. Kathryn filed away slides of every moment in her mind, storing it away to be gone over carefully later. They took numerous pictures, but more than that, they made memories.

As the day progressed, a thought that was niggling at the back of Kathryn's mind took shape and grew. This would be the last day they'd have together, till... when? When would be the next instance they could take time off from their respective lives and meet up like this, furtively, and live another one of these fairytale days? 

She railed against the unfairness of it all, that she, who loved this man so much, should share him with all the other things in his life. That he should have a whole other life, one in which she didn't figure anywhere except in stolen, hidden bits here and there. That she supposedly meant so much to him, but when it came to it, there was nothing he could do about these feelings, except put them in words and go back to his life at the end of the day. 

But then she reminded herself that she was the other woman. It was her lot to take whatever she could and be happy with it. She couldn't ask for more, though she did, so many times, forgetting herself and almost begging. But her turn would always come last – after he had given himself to everything and everyone else – his work, his wife, his children. Nothing would change that. Those were the terms and she had to live by them.

A gloom settled over her happiness, lining it and turning the whole dream bittersweet. The deep enjoyment that she had been taking to this point was now faintly edged by sadness. And it grew, so that by dinner she was solemn and much too quiet. The easy smiles had dried up, replaced by brief, uneasy ones.

When he gave her the Valentine's Day gift before dinner, a tiny pendant in the shape of a heart lined with diamonds, her eyes twinkled briefly as she opened the box. 

"It's beautiful," she said, awed. And it was.

He just smiled at her. He knew she'd love it.

She slipped it onto the chain she was wearing and it nestled between her breasts. Her fingers sought it out throughout the evening again and again as they ate, as if reassuring herself of his love by touching it. 

He noticed, but didn't say anything. Her frame of mind affected him too. He knew what was going through her head; it wasn't the first time.

The dark mood was carried over to their room, like something tangible. It entered the lift with them, walked between them, down the corridor and was present all through, getting into bed with them, under the covers, as they faced each other and stared into the other's eyes. 

Kathryn gave him a wry smile. "This is it then?"

"We still have a few hours," he reminded her.

She nodded. Her flight was early in the morning. 

Her fingers trembled as she unbuttoned his shirt. There was a studied intensity to her actions, like she wanted to remember every bit of the remaining time, burning it into her head. And like she didn't want to acknowledge that their time was running out, ticking away. If she could just shut her mind to it, then it would go away.

With the sweep of her fingers on his chest, she told him of her desperation. The tense pressure told of her helplessness. Her clenched jaw betrayed her anger at herself, at needing him so much and not being satisfied with what finally came her way after being distributed among the legitimates. 

Their coupling was more of her feelings being played out than an expression of love. It was need, anger, want and frustration. Their fingers intertwined and locked, palm against palm as Kathryn straddled him, the smooth insides of her legs against the roughness of his outer thighs. Her knees pressed into his hips, her gaze linked to his. 




Lost Love and Anal play



Five years ago: 

I was 23 at the time and as always in very good shape. I never had a problem getting attention from girls however my usual circle of hookups was getting stale. My next door neighbor, Trish, and I have always been best friends, but that's where it ended. She was five years younger than me and I always made sure to look out for her best interests. She had a beautiful lean body and a cute face that one day would become the immediate fantasy of any man that lay eyes on her. 

Whenever our families would get together we always ended up spending all of our time with each other. Our families were there, but as for us, we were the only two people that mattered. Clearly we had a mutual attraction, but I tried very hard not to think of her in a sexual way. We had known each other for too long and our friendship was too great. We always had "moments" growing up. For instance, in my pool we'd go swimming late night and I would end up rubbing her back under the stars talking about anything and everything that came to our minds. I'd always let my hands wander freely during those nights however that's as far as it ever got. Finally the day before she was heading off to her freshman year of college our "moment" became sexual, very sexual. For just that one time I acted on my desires.

We were on my pool patio as both our parents were away at work. Trish and I were soaking up the August rays as anyone would. Trish decided to take a quick dip to cool herself off. On the way to the pool something happened and she slipped. Her back struck right on the side of the pool and she fell into the water crying. Without missing a beat, I jumped in and lifted her out. I felt awful, she was crying into my shoulder when I saw the huge black and blue mark already forming on her back. 

I gently placed her facedown on a towel and told her I'd be right back with some lotion. When I returned she was still whimpering. I gave her a comforting kiss on the cheek and a shoulder rub trying to relax her. Once she calmed down a bit, I proceeded to put lotion on the bruise. She closed her eyes surely hoping to forget how much pain she was in. 

I never stopped rubbing her back. I asked her if she was ok, and she nodded her head in approval. I took more lotion and started giving her a lower back massage with my hands warily venturing to her bikini bottoms. I watched carefully for any sign that I should stop. She gave me none. 

My hand dipped inside her bikini bottom and my fingertips slowly massaged a once forbidden area intently waiting for a signal of any kind. Trish turned her head and let a little moan escape.

"Did I just hear that or imagine it?" I thought to myself. 

Intrigued, I let my index finger dip further below and touch the beginning part of her ass crack. I stopped for a second allowing herself to consider what was happening. I noticed her breath became shallow and I could feel her heart racing.

I continued to lightly trace my finger further down. Trish was surrendering herself to me completely. I delicately pulled down her bikini bottoms to reveal her gorgeous bottom. She parted her legs giving me better access. With my hands still slick, I started to rub her globes. I grabbed a cheek in each of my hands and gently spread them exposing her asshole. I couldn't help myself. I took my middle finger and gradually worked my way down her crack to her anus. 

I was paying special attention to how she reacted to my finger advances. Just as I was about to reach her anal ring she took in a sudden shallow gasp of air and held onto it. We both paused for just an instant. As my finger then moved directly on her anus she finally let her breath escape. I just lingered there for a moment letting her, letting me get used to the situation. Next I pushed my fingertip inside. She willingly raised her ass higher taking more of my finger in her butt. 

Her body took over at the point. 

My hand stayed still and she moved back and forth repeatedly engulfing my finger with her anus. This lasted for a while. With my finger buried deep inside her ass I lowered my face. I took out my finger and started to slowly tongue her ass crack. Every second I inched closer to her asshole her breathes became more intense. As my tongue reached her anus she let out an incredible moan that made my body tremble in excitement. 

Between her pants Trish managed to say, "This is so fucking dirty, you have no idea how horny it's making me". 

I then made my tongue stiff and broke the plane of her ring. I worked my tongue in and out penetrating her further each time. 

"Your tongue is so far up my ass, this fucking feels amazing!!!!" 

Trish hardly ever said a bad word and hearing her say this almost made me blow my load right there.

When I felt her pussy she was so fucking wet. I immediately slid two fingers in her vagina. She grabbed a hold of my wrist driving my fingers in as deep as possible. I got the hint and forcefully kept my fingers deep and moving inside of her. Just as she locked onto her clit her entire body went STIFF! Every muscle went tense and she was succumbing to multiple waves of pleasure. Trish had just had the most powerful orgasm I had ever seen. Her body afterwards went completely limp. 

I turned her over and we locked into an embrace. We fell asleep in each other arms for the rest of the afternoon. I felt like saying I loved her, but choose to remain silent.

Hours later our parents both came home and the afternoon moment was lost. Her back was surely sore but I thought that may have been the last thing on her mind. 

She was obviously busy packing that night and thus left early that next morning. Trish never said bye to me. I thought that was really strange. She would never just leave and not say bye regardless of how early she left. I tried to put it out of my mind and figured we'd be in touch in the next few days. 

I never heard anything. 

I was crushed. I couldn't understand how something so intense could just manifest itself into nothing. 

I tried to speak to her many times. Finally fed up with her silence I realized Trish had become a different person towards me. A man could only try for so long. I swallowed my pride and my feelings and just let her be. I was glad to remember that day, but sad to think I had lost a friend.

I was a different person instantly from that point forward. Things didn't seem as good anymore. New relationships didn't seem as powerful. I knew I had my heart broken. 

Present Day:

As time went on, I slowly recovered from my mental despair. Later on that year I moved to a different state. And I learned to love again. I found a new girlfriend and my life was good. I had to admit thoughts of Trish came back from time to time, but I became quite good at pushing them back down until other thoughts entered my mind. I was happy and I had moved on. 

I was getting the itch to move back home, and as luck would have it, work had an opening near my hometown. Although I had to leave my girlfriend behind for a few months I jumped at the chance. She understood and planned to move in with me once she had the same opportunity with her work.

A few months after being back it was early June. I was eating dinner at my parent's house and my mother mentioned to me that Trish just graduated college this year and would be moving back home any day.

"Great, just fucking great" I thought to myself.

For some reason I immediately started regretting the decision to move back here. 

"GET A HOLD OF YOURSELF!!" I snapped. I've already dealt with these feelings. Things are different now and I've accepted this. Reminding myself this calmed me down. Soon other thoughts entered my head and I fell asleep on my parents couch like I had many times before.

When I woke up I heard some commotion coming from next door. 

Fuck me! Trish was home.

I wondered how I should approach the situation. I could just stay inside and ignore it completely or I could actually go outside and say hi to her. However I knew if I said hi to her, how she reacted to me could make or break my night. Against my better judgment I went outside.

The second I saw her, I was awestruck. Her body was just as I had fanatisized. Her proportions were perfect. Her chest had filled out and her ass had definition that I never remembered seeing five years ago. And still not an ounce of fat anywhere on her body. 

I opened the front door and tried to say something. Nothing came out. I tried to recollect myself, but I couldn't. I just stood there. I stood there with a stupid look on my face. 

As Trish closed the car trunk, she inevitably turned my way and immediately did a double take. To my amazement and horrid disbelief she then turned back like I didn't even exist and went into her house. 

What the fuck was that?! 

She definitely wasn't the same Trish I had once known. Five years ago she would have run over and thrown her arms around me. Now she wouldn't even acknowledge my existence. Part of me had braced myself for that moment. Though the impact was still felt, I was able to shake the event from my head. And this time had a finality of "it's just the way it's going to be". 

I returned to the couch where I had just finished my nap and started to watch TV. I noticed the reflection on the screen and realized I could see Trish next door unpacking in her room. 

For some reason I couldn't help but think I was going to get lucky and catch a glimpse of her changing. Just as I was imagining what her body looked like naked again, I saw her looking in my direction through the window in her room. She had no idea I could see her. She had stopped cold in her tracks. She seemed to be chasing some memory in her head. Only when her father entered the room did she break her blank stare.

A couple of weeks went by since that night and I had become extremely busy at work. I did what I had been accustomed to doing and buried the event inside my head and rarely gave it another thought. 

I was lying in bed one night when I heard a knock. It was midnight thus I didn't register that someone was outside my house. Again, this time the knocking was a little louder. 

Heading to the door, I figured it was my girlfriend Katie coming down to surprise me since it was Friday night and she had the weekend off.

As I opened the door I started to say, "HEY KA....."

I couldn't believe it. It was Trish!! 

"What the hell are you doing here?" I said kind of angrily. 

She tried to say something but her words became choked up. 

Trying again and fighting back her tears she managed to say "I asked your mother where you were living".

I understood. I threw my arms around her and we touched for the first time in five years. Neither of us could hold onto our emotions and we cried into each other arms.

After what seemed like forever we reluctantly broke our embrace. 

"My mother says you have a girlfriend, I'm also in a relationship. I have so many things I want to say. I am, was, and still am so angry at you. Five fucking years, I am still mad at you. I hated you and I'm trying very hard to still hate you"

I was in shock, all these years went by and not one time did I imagine this was how she felt. She apparently saw the hurt and confused look in my face and so she started.....

"Growing up you treated me like I was the only thing that mattered in your life. You made my days brighter, you made nights peaceful, you made me feel safe. I was head over heels in love with you. I would have given myself to you anytime you wanted. ANYTIME YOU WANTED! That day you rescued me in the pool, that incredible moment afterwards needed to happen months if not years earlier. I waited so long for that to happen. Why did you wait until the last day before I went away? I cried that entire night knowing things would not and could not be the same. We were going to be 2000 miles apart. I became deeply depressed. Everything made me think of you. Finally enough was enough. I had to put you out of my mind completely. It was the hardest thing for me to do, but it was the only thing for me to do. The other day when I saw you standing outside your parent's front door, I felt everything again as if it was yesterday. All these thoughts I had buried down deep inside of me resurfaced. My heart aches. But now too much time has passed between us, things are different and we both have our separate lives"

With that last line, she turned and was gone. I didn't even get a chance to say anything. Eitherway, I doubt I could have even thought of anything to say. I didn't sleep at all that night, I only thought of the countless days and nights Trish and I had spent together long ago. Sooner or later night became day and I made myself get up and go through the motions.

There came a point during that next day where I knew I had to try. I had to try one last time to get back what was once mine. I was shaking as I dialed Trish's number. As her phone started ringing I could hear a ringtone nearby. It was coming from outside my front door. Confused I went to look outside and I saw Trish standing on my steps.

As I opened the door, she rushed in, put her arms around me and squeezed me tightly.

I was about to say something but she put her lips to my ear and said, "Shhhhh, just listen. Over the years I swore to myself I would never think of you. I slipped. I slipped often. Every time I was with another guy I would imagine that afternoon we had. How you handled me, how you took care of me and those things you did to me and I wished I could have that again. It was never the same, never like it was when I was with you."

When she finished talking, our lips met in a very slow and passionate kiss. Our tongues were deep in each others mouths. We kissed as two lovers rediscovering each other after years apart. I picked Trish up and brought her into my bed. We both undressed and our two naked bodies were glued onto one another.

"I've been waiting for this day my whole life, please make me yours again" Trish panted. 

She took my dick in her hand and guided me to the entrance of her pussy. She was extremely wet and incredibly tight. I worked my dick all the way inside her while pinning her legs behind her head. 

Trish pulled my body tightly into hers. I fucked her as hard and as deep as I possibly could. She was moaning into my ear the entire time. I brought a hand under her and started squeezing her ass. She was so wet that her juices liberally coated her ass crack. I started to play with her asshole. Trish loved this. She grabbed my hand and eagerly pushed my finger in her ass. Once I had one finger up her butt, she asked for another.

I always wondered if she had been just caught up in the moment five years ago or if she enjoyed her ass being toyed with. I needed no more confirmation. Trish was very sensitive back there. 

I had two fingers in her ass and I was pumping her in and out when I felt her body turn rigid. She squeezed me incredibly tight and screamed. 

Just as she squeezed me I knew I couldn't last any longer. I came the exact moment she came. I don't think I've ever shot such a huge load into someone before. Afterwards we both just laid there enjoying the moment. It took fives years, but we both knew this was meant to happen. Just like before, we fell asleep in each other arms. I was at peace with myself more than I could ever remember. 

I awoke hours later to Trish playing with my balls. My cock was standing straight up. "Good evening sleepy head" she said. "I was hoping you'd wake up soon!"

"I'm up and you've got my attention now, you've made me rock hard" I said.

"I have to tell you something about me" Trish says "I've always gotten off from my ass being played with. Even before I went to college I always masturbated with something in my ass and something in my pussy at the same time. It's just the way I get off. Every time I feel your fingers or tongue on my asshole I can't help but become extremely wet and horny. So right now just sit back. I want to you to enjoy this. You're the only guy I want to be with and I want to make you feel the way I do."

I'll be completely honest, hearing her say this almost made me come in anticipation. 

Trish worked her way under the covers and grabbed a hold of my cock near the base. She started licking the shaft up and down getting it very slick. She spread my legs open to get better access to my ball sac. Trish sucked on one ball and then the other. Using her saliva as lubrication she started stroking my cock. I felt her tongue go a little lower to the area just under my balls a few times. She was testing my reaction. Without saying anything I opened my legs further hopefully giving her permission to continue. She took the hint as I felt her mouth leave my balls completely and continue her journey further down.

I put my hands under my knees and held them upwards so she could have all the access she needed. As I hoped, Trish continually crept lower. I let out a gasp as her tongue reached my anus. She lightly rimmed around the edge. Taking her hand off my cock she brought them to my ass cheeks. She spread my ass open and drove her tongue in as far as she could. Much like I did to her five years earlier she poked her tongue in and out penetrating me further each time. The feeling of her tongue in my ass was incredible. And she was enjoying it as much as me. 

I reached down to my own cock and started to stroke myself but Trish stopped me. She wanted to do everything herself. What was I going to say? I was in ecstasy. I put my hands on the back of her head and closed my eyes as her tongue continued working my asshole. 

When her tongue left my ass she replaced it with her finger. She started to massage my prostate. I couldn't hold out much longer and told her so. She immediately started sucking my dick in anticipation of the load I was about to release. 

AHHHHHHH! 

I shot load after load into her mouth. She wasn't able to take it all at first. After swallowing what she could, Trish eagerly licked up what was left over. She came up and gave me a deep passionate kiss. Our tongues met fiercely as she shared what was left in her mouth. The whole moment was so incredibly kinky. I couldn't help but think what a lucky man I was. 

I whispered into her ear that I loved her and have always loved her. We both knew our lives would never be spent apart again. 

Needless to say, each of our "relationships" didn't last much longer than that next day. Our sex life is never dull, she is the most open and nonjudgmental person I know. Whatever I want and whatever she wants we both indulge to the fullest. 

We both share a bond that will never be broken!