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Precious Fate Ch. 01

By: mythrender



-- Note to the reader: the very first part of this story has a strong basis in true events. For that reason, I have concealed both her name as well as my own in order to preserve anonymity. I apologize if that makes certain parts a bit confusing to some readers. -- 

How well I remember her walking through the doors of the treatment center, in tears and trembling, her life a mess and her marriage on the rocks due to her drinking. Her husband stood next to her exuding an aura of arrogance and antipathy, his eyes like chips of ice. He was ashamed of her and she knew it. As a unit manager, my job included doing intakes and I did my best to make her feel at ease. Her eyes did not meet mine until her husband left the building. Then she broke down, sobbing uncontrollably and trembling in fear. I embraced her and held her until the sobbing ceased. Her paperwork painted a picture of a woman who, at 32 years of age, had never been on her own. She had lived with her parents until, at age 19, she married the first (and, in her mind, only) guy willing to take a chance on her. 

Beauty she had – not the stunning good looks of a woman who thought highly of herself or made herself up to be someone she was not – but rather, that simple, wholesome look of a woman that had never bothered with makeup or hairstyles much less manicures and the like. There was nothing artificial or superficial about her. One look at her and you knew that her long, deep brown hair was the same color now as it had been all her life. There was no deceptive, acquired front cover with this one either. No facade of toughness or duplicity - no mysteries to be investigated – no impenetrable defensive walls to be breached. She wore her heart on her sleeve and one look into those big brown eyes revealed any unspoken feelings. Her sensitivity and vulnerability struck me forcibly.

That’s not to say she didn’t have baggage. In addition to a history of Alcoholism, she had a severe social anxiety disorder that caused her to have frequent panic attacks. But these drew me to her rather than repelled me. She was in need of constant emotional reassurance. She wasn’t, in truth, hard to settle down when these attacks came. All she needed was to be told that everything was all right and she needed to be hugged. This triggered a deep paternal instinct in me that I had never felt before. I loved her almost immediately though I told myself repeatedly that it was just that same kind of plutonic love that a person in this field of work develops for many his or her clients – the kind of love that is based on empathy and an honest desire to help those afflicted with the disease of addiction. 

I am very proud to say that I maintained this lie, even to myself, for her entire month stay at the treatment center. I had always despised those men who inappropriately took advantage of vulnerable women and I would not allow myself to drop into that pitfall. Additionally, there is the matter of professional ethics. While the fact that I was not a certified counselor insulated me from the legal trouble that becoming romantically involved with a client could bring, it would still be considered highly unethical and would undoubtedly loose me my job. Finally, there was her husband, as cold and unsupportive as he was, she married him and he was true to her despite his patronizing attitude. Perhaps he held some redeemable qualities that were hidden from me. Nonetheless, I couldn’t help but think that this separation from him would be an ideal chance for her to grow as a person with an identity that was not bound to his.

And grow she did. Sure, there were times when she’d come apart … times when her anxiety would get the best of her and panic would set in. This is when she just needed to breathe, to be reassured and to be embraced. Often she would come to me at these times and, true to my conviction, I managed to keep these embraces well within limits that would be considered perfectly appropriate to any one in the field…they did not, however, feel appropriate to me. But she grew and she thrived as she learned the basics of recovery from addiction not to mention ways to manage her anxiety. 

One month later she left. All the staff considered her treatment a huge success. Despite my secret grief, her leaving was one of the most beautiful moments of my life. She came to the office, checked out, gave me a spine cracking hug, kissed me on the cheek and proudly walked out the same door through which she’d so despairingly walked in just one month earlier. She was beautiful. She carried her own bags, her chin held high, and she walked right past her husband making him follow her out of the building with a perplexed look on his face. Indeed, she was not the same person who walked in crying one month before. 

I took a quiet, tearful moment in the restroom and then put my business face back on and went back to the endeavors of helping the unit counselors teach addicted individuals how to live without chemicals. Her innocence and vulnerable beauty, however, remained etched in my mind and heart for a long while. Things of which I once took no notice would remind me of her: a smile from a stranger on the street, a scent of freshly washed hair unspoilt by any styling products, tears in a pair of brown eyes…the list goes on and on. The fact of the matter was that I was also no longer the same person that I was before she walked into my life. But she was gone and I could only hope that she was well. Months passed…then years and the memories began to fade.

I am a firm believer that few things, for good or ill, happen in this world by accident. I am not religious, but my own twelve years of recovery from addiction (not to mention eight years of working with other addicted people) have taught me that there does indeed seem to be a greater power at work in the cosmos. Atheists and skeptical agnostics may say that what happened was coincidence. Perhaps they are right, but I choose to believe that my walking into that recovery convention some five years later on a cool September Friday afternoon was fated.

The typical workshops and meetings were similar to the countless others that I had attended. In fact, nothing about that afternoon struck me as out of the ordinary. I arrived one hour before the first workshop; I checked into a room at the Convention Center Hotel; I registered for the workshops I intended to take in; and I attended these workshops with a attitude of patience, despite the fact that I wasn’t really hearing anything new. I had resigned myself to the monotony of these conventions that had once, some ten years back, excited me beyond my wildest dreams. I was numb to them. The dance that inevitably followed dinner was likely to be no different…the novelty of these functions had long ago worn off. I longed for the thrill of early recovery, when everything seemed new and exciting--when just being alive and drug-free was an epiphany.

I attended the dinner and was not even planning on going to the dance but reconsidered when I heard that there was going to be a live band instead of the usual DJ. I went back to my room, showered, shaved and dressed in slightly more presentable clothing. I walked into the dance and discovered, to my disappointment, that while the music was indeed live, the band seemed to be playing slightly mangled versions of the same dance music I had heard at these things a thousand times before. I cursed under my breath, “They could have at least gotten an amateur blues band or something.” I stopped just a few steps from the doorway; meaning to turn, leave the hall, and seek the quiet of my room, when someone ran into me from behind. I turned, annoyed, only to be struck dumb. A woman with a familiar face stood there blushing and trying in vain to stammer out an appropriate apology. When she recognized me, she fell silent.

It was her…but then again, it wasn’t. It was her, with her same innocence, her same vulnerability, her same revealing brown eyes, her same natural hair, her same genuine beauty, but there was a glow about her that had not been apparent five years back … not even on the day when she left treatment. I recognized that aura immediately. It was the light that illuminates a woman who is at peace with herself and her life. It was the light that starts at some point in the recovery process and continues to grow as the person becomes aware that there is life after addiction. It was the luminescence that only shines from a person who has found joy in life’s victories and pleasures, all the while demonstrating acceptance of its sorrows. She was there…standing in front of me with that same warm smile that had pierced my heart so many times during that one short month five years prior. I had found her and I had found her doing well. It had been years since I had felt so alive.

Without uttering a word, in fact, without even thinking, I took her hand in mine and led her to a nearby empty table. Her friend, whom I hadn’t even noticed until that moment, gave her a sly smile and joined a rowdy group of dancers on the floor. For a moment that seemed like an eternity, neither of us spoke. 

She was there, her long brown hair framing her soft innocent face. She was there in a gorgeous blue satin, strapless dress that revealed her delicious shoulders and neck while accentuating her soft curves to perfection. I hadn’t noticed how tall she was – perhaps because when I had known her she never really stood to her full height. She had lost none of the qualities that had endeared her to me but her newly found confidence and self-esteem shined forth from her dark eyes. If anything, the years in recovery had nurtured her more humble qualities thereby intensifying her beauty. 

She spoke first and when I looked up into those honest eyes I saw tears trickling down her cheeks. However, unlike with the tearful woman whom I had admitted to treatment, she was completely unabashed by her display of feelings. There was no apology for her tears. There was no shame in her eyes. 

“I wanted to tell you how grateful I am for all that you did for me…I don’t think I would have made it through treatment without your support,” she said in a soft voice that grabbed at my heart. 

“No, it is I that should be grateful for it is the ones that make it…the ones like you…that make working there worthwhile,” I stammered. “I certainly don’t stay there for the lousy $9.00 and hour,” I added, vainly attempting to take some of the cheesiness out of my response.

She blushed and smiled. The tableau of silence broke and we talked and laughed and cried. We reminisced about her stay in treatment. I explained the few changes that had occurred in the place since. She told me, with relish, of her new friends she’d made in recovery. We discussed the revelations that recovery offers and the evolutions of our own emotional and spiritual selves. She told me of just about every aspect of her life that had been positively impacted by her recovery.

She still suffered from the anxiety but her friends were understanding and supported her through the panic attacks. Indeed it occurred to me that even just her being in a crowded dance hall was evidence that she was managing her anxiety with ease. It was then that our eyes met and I noticed that there was some trouble there. She never could hide her feelings; her eyes gave her away every time. It was also then that I realized that there was a very important piece of her life that she had intentionally left out of conversation. I held her eyes in mine and could tell she knew that I was onto her. 

I didn’t have to ask. Tears brimmed on the edges of her eyelashes as she tumbled head long into the story of her doomed marriage. The story was typical. After a few months where it seemed that everything was fine, her husband became resentful of the time she spent at recovery meetings and functions. Despite her very honest pleading that there was nothing going on with any of them, he became jealous of the men at the meetings and the hugs they gave her. Most of all, he became angry that his primary purpose in the relationship…holding her together emotionally…was not as necessary as it once had been. He resented her newfound independence and, when she would not relinquish it, he left her. The divorce was finalized 3 years ago.

My heart leapt into my throat but I had to be careful. I knew enough about love and relationships to realize that rebounding a woman off the demise of a 15-year marriage was dangerous. Three years had passed since the divorce but there was still pain in those lovely brown eyes. I fumbled around in my mind for a sensitive, non-offensive way to word the question that I needed to ask.

“That was three years ago…do you still have that many bad feelings about it?” Needless to say, I wasn’t pleased with the way this came out. She, however, took no offense.

“Oh…it took some time...maybe a year or so…to get over the fact that he was gone. But that’s not what is bothering me now. I’ve actually come to view the divorce as the best thing to happen to my recovery, even though it was hard,” she said in a matter-of-fact sort of way, “Its just that…I’ve…well…sort of been having…some trouble with…you know…finding anyone now that I’m over him.”

At first I was astounded. She was looking down at her lap and, for a minute, I was reminded that same sorrowful woman that walked into the treatment center—shy and insecure. I let my eyes take in her delicate, sad face; her soft shapely curves; her modest, yet perfectly rounded breasts; her entire simple, elegant, unadorned, beautiful figure. Why, I asked myself, would this gorgeous woman have trouble finding a man? I looked at her again. She was not at all petite, being a bit too tall and having a little too much flesh. Nor did she have this voluptuous or athletic look that seems to be in style these days. Though she was not an ounce overweight, she had just the beginnings love handles that she, thankfully, did not try to nip, tuck, or hide in some torturous control top. Her abdomen was not perfectly flat, but rather had the very shape that you would naturally expect on a woman of her age (37 now). She was in no way overlarge or flabby or in anyway unattractive to me. She, in my eyes, was perfect—soft, simple, curvaceous, lovable and very real. Above all else, she had that beauty that could only emanate from the inside. 

But then it occurred to me. It was not due to any unattractive quality in her that she had trouble finding a suitor. It was her lack of confidence in herself as a lover. Sure she has gained some self-esteem. She felt alive and useful and confident in her recovery but had never come to see herself as desirable to men. Her divorce most likely destroyed what little romantic self-image she had ever had. She wordlessly transmitted a signal to others that she was not approachable…unworthy…that she would probably dissolve into tears or would turn tail and rocket off like a deer if approached. It was her underlying fears and insecurities that stood in her way--fears and insecurities that undoubtedly were escalated by her anxiety disorder. I had this insane desire to lean over the table and kiss her full on the teeth, but I was saved from that folly by the approach of her friend. 

The friend had obviously noticed my close observation of this woman’s features and I prayed she wouldn’t think I was some kind of pervert for my desires far transcended simple sexual lust. But my fear seemed to be unfounded. The friend smiled warmly at me as she informed us that she was turning in for the night. I thought that I had caught a wink of her eye as she turned to leave the hall. I looked around to find, much to my surprise, that hours had past and that the dance was starting to wind down. As if on cue, the band took up a love ballad that sounded as though it might have been a horribly tortured attempt at “Wonderful Tonight” by Eric Clapton except without lyrics as the singer, thankfully, had stepped off for a break.

All the proverbial chips were on the table and now was the time to play my hand. She was easily far enough along in her recovery to allow for romantic involvement (indeed the ethical and legal standards only demand 1 year). Furthermore, she was single and the slight trembling in her hands spoke volumes about her needs. She needed to be held and now there was little need for me to mask my own feelings toward her. She started and looked up as I abruptly stood and walked around the table to her. 

“Please, dance with me,” I said, holding out my hand for her.

Her trembling increased slightly as she looked up at me and mouthed voiceless words of protest.

“I never dance…I…don’t know how…to dance…really.” She was finally able to stammer. 

I took her hand, bent down and whispered in her ear, “I’ve always loved you and I just want to hold you. You can do this. It would be good for you to take this risk. Trust me as you did five years ago.”

At this she smiled and her eyes misted over. She stood slowly and I marveled again at her height. She placed both her shaking hands in mine. With teary eyes looking into mine, she whispered, “I’ve always loved you too.”

I started to tremble myself as her soft words washed over me. Almost involuntarily, I placed my arm around her shoulders and led her out onto the nearly empty dance floor. Her shaking increased dramatically once we were on the floor. Her breath was becoming shallow and fast. I could tell her heart was racing. She was nearing a panic attack, not due to me, but rather, in response to so many eyes being on her. I bid her to close her eyes and I embraced her there in front of everyone, holding her close and tight. “Nobody is judging you or I right now, and, if they are, their verdicts are irrelevant,” I whispered in her ear, “There is nothing wrong with what we are doing…nothing at all. This is our moment and the only people who matter are you and me.” 

As I whispered we slowly started swaying to the sound of the music, my hands around her shapely waist and her hands around my neck. Her head was on my shoulder, tucked softly into the nape of my neck below my ear. Her soft, warm breath started to slow down, as did the desperate beating of her heart. The sweet scent of her long soft hair and her light perfume were mesmerizing as she gradually relaxed with a sigh. Her body was lithe against mine. She was soft and warm; vulnerable and fragile; and, most of all, completely open to me. Never before had any person been so precious to me as she was at that moment.

She lifted her head as if to speak but no words came and she started to look away. Tears sparkled in her eyes as I reflexively took my right hand from her waist and placed it softly on the side of her face. My fingers twined into her soft hair and, with my thumb, I gently wiped a tear from her cheek. Slowly but irresistibly, I turned her head back until our eyes met. It felt as though a hand had reached into my chest and clutched my heart. Her eyes, her mind, her face, her body, and her sweet tears: all her attributes and liabilities worked in flawless unison. She was perfect.

As the song ended, we embraced and I held her closely. As we parted, I gave in to the inevitable. I leaned into her and, before she could recoil, I kissed her softly on the lips. A sudden fear of her reaction came over me but she responded with that kindhearted smile. She blushed as I took her hand and led her off the dance floor and out the door, both of us heedless of the audience we had drawn in the dancehall. I felt a warm sensation radiating from the very center of my being.

Out in the hallway we stopped and faced each other, both her hands in mine. Thoughts raced through my mind. I certainly did not intend to ask her to my room. Pushing a premature sexual encounter with this woman would be highly unwise. It would also be totally unnecessary; at the ripe age of 33 my sex drive, while still healthy, was not the raging storm of hormones that it was some 10-15 years back. But if I could just finagle one more kiss my dreams would be sweeter that night then they had been for a number of years. 


Precious Fate Ch. 01



“Could I walk my lady back to her abode?” I asked with what I hoped was humorously over-formal tone of voice. 

Still blushing, she giggled and, with a graceful motion, she moved along side me and placed her hand in the nook of my elbow as though I was a wedding usher showing her to her seat. “Please do!” she responded, her face now a striking shade of scarlet.

We walked through the main hall of the hotel like this, drawing many an odd glance from our fellow convention goers. We were alone in the elevator up to the third floor but did nothing but giggle like school children. Then we were at the door to her room, standing face to face again with our hands joined between us. There was an awkward silence. She, again, was the first to speak.

“How is it that you are always there for me when I need you?”

“How can that be true?” I asked, chuckling, “We haven’t laid eyes on each other in over 5 years!”

“But it is true! I mean, sure, I managed…with a lot of help from the wonderful people I’ve met at the meetings…to weather the storms of early recovery: the cravings, the loneliness, the fall of my marriage. But it was you that taught me how to do it.”

“But it was my job to help you…I help many people. Besides, I think that your counselor and the other staff and patients played a much bigger role in all that than I did.”

“But I knew that, deep inside, I was special to you,” she whispered, “It was you who was there for me on that first terrifying day. No, it was definitely you, much more so than any of the others, that helped me to see the path that I needed to walk.”

I was speechless. In my years of working at the unit, I had earned words of gratitude from many needy people but never had any impacted me like this. My love for her…my need for her…erupted painfully and I drew her close in my arms. Our bodies, I noticed, fit together perfectly…as though they had been created with the intention of being together as one. 

Long I embraced her; caressing her back and trying to convey in the context of that moment all that was in my heart for her…all those feelings that words failed to communicate. I held her as though my very soul depended on never letting her go. I held her not as a friend, not as a fellow addict in need, but as the woman with whom I desperately wanted to share my love and my life. I was alive with emotion. A tempest of feelings ran through my mind, body and spirit, yet; paradoxically, at that very moment I was at total peace. Never before had I embraced a woman like that. 

Finally, we broke apart. My shoulder was damp with her precious tears of joy. I looked upon her with lust. She stood with her hands still on my shoulders not even attempting to dry her eyes. I knew with a certainty that I rarely felt in life that we were in love and that once our relationship was established: we would never be parted. 

I grabbed her gently around her waist and pulled her to me again, this time bringing my lips, not to her mouth, as she seemed to be expecting, but rather to that delicious spot on her neck…just below her ear and just behind her jaw. Tenderly, I kissed her there, savoring her satin skin, and then trailed soft, moist kisses along the line of her jaw on the way to her sweet lips that were slightly parted as if awaiting my touch. I felt a surge of adrenaline in my veins and my heart raced as our lips met. I kissed her soundly, my tongue playing against the edges of her sensitive lips. My libido was flailing madly against the restraints in which I had it bound. Despite this display of intimacy, I was not going to risk a sexual encounter just yet…but soon. We had the whole weekend in front of us. 

I broke my kiss abruptly and she involuntarily fell back against the door to her room with a sigh. The look of smoldering passion in her usually serene eyes was almost defiant. Both our breaths were coming in ragged gasps. “Can I take you out to breakfast in the morning? Perhaps 9:00?” I asked in a flustered voice.

“You can take me anywhere...anytime!” came her sultry reply. With that she swiftly turned, unlocked the door and disappeared into her room without another word.

I stood there for a while trying to master myself and wondering if the sexual double meaning in her statement was intentional. I had never before heard such a tone in her voice. Suddenly, I sprinted away down the hall feeling as though I could fly. To my own room I ran. I fumbled the key into the lock, entered the room with haste, dashed into the bathroom for a towel, and finally, leaped onto the bed to relieve my tormented libido. Scenes from the evening danced like a motion picture against the back of my closed eyelids as the moment a release came painfully delightful in its urgency. I set the alarm for 7:30 AM and fell almost immediately into a sleep in which wondrous dreams weaved pictures of her face as it had looked as she leaned breathless against her hotel room door. 

I met the morning’s light with deeply rooted sense of anticipation. It was still an hour before my alarm would be sounding but I shut it off and rose. I sat at the edge of my bed, my mind reeling in splendid thoughts of her and me. Visions of possible futures together passed before my eyes. I cut these thoughts off. No sense getting ahead of myself. 

I took a cold shower to snap myself out of my premature thinking. I dressed in dress-casual clothes. Brushed my longish brown hair, shaved and made ready for our breakfast date. To keep my mind from wondering back to her again, I walked down to the lounge for some coffee and to converse with any convention attendees who where up early. It was only 8:00 and I had an hour before I was to meet her. We were probably going to miss the morning workshops and speakers but, so long as that was okay by her, it was fine by me. There was nowhere I felt that I needed to be more so than in her company. With that thought I turned into the lounge. 

I was fumbling with the coffee filters at the do-it-yourself coffee station, uncoordinated in my lingering sleepiness, when a feminine hand reach around from behind me, snagged the stack of filters from my hand and relieved me of the task. I turned suddenly to find myself face-to-face with her friend from the dance. At a table behind her, from whence she had seemingly arose, was a group of four other woman, all of whom appeared to suppressing fits of laughter. “So the mystery man is revealed,” she drawled, “so very pleased to meet you!”

“Mystery man…I...er…what?” was my confused response.

“Oh, don’t look so surprised,” she said, “After five years of listening to her, we all feel like we’ve known you for years.” If I wasn’t totally dumbfounded already, her next statement completely floored me. 

“So, did you two love birds get down and dirty last night? I assume that’s what her sleeping in today is all about. She’s usually up with the sun.” Laughter broke out at the table beyond and a few of the other patrons turned to see what the commotion was about. I felt a sudden rush of blood to my face and knew I must have been brick red.

“Shhhh…no…nothing like that…I …ah…well…we…er…” I stammered on incoherently. 

“What!” she cried stomping her foot in mock anger, “you mean to tell me that after 2 years worth of trying — IN VAIN -- to get that girl laid…our attempts always shunted aside in favor the mere fantasy of some mysterious man who worked at that treatment center…she didn’t invite you to her room? Goddamn that girl!!” With that she smiled kindly at me and returned to her table where one of her friends had apparently fallen out of her seat and was now rolling on the floor in laughter.

“I…ah…it was good to meet you…ah…yeah,” I said, and, with that clever remark I turned, without my coffee, and retreated from the room.

“You better get on with things, stud…we’re all counting on you!!” came the parting comment from the friend amid torrents of laughter from the others.

I wasn’t angry with her friends for embarrassing me. I was sure it was all meant in fun…a good laugh at the expense of my nervous discomfiture, but it was also meant as a humorous yet friendly nudge. She had been thinking (and, obviously, talking) about me – for years! Still not wanting to spend the next 45 minutes building unrealistic expectations, I walked nervously around the hotel and convention center, pointedly avoiding the lounge, and thinking of all the witty responses I could have used to short circuit her friend’s little jibes. 

Finally, at 8:50, I stopped by the door to her room. I sat on the hallway floor with my back to the wall opposite her door hoping she wouldn’t think this a bit anxious of me. I hadn’t specified a place to meet and I figured I’d stand a good chance of catching her here…provided she hadn’t left the room already. “God, if I end up having to retrieve her from that gaggle of rowdy, giggling friends of hers in the lounge, I think I’ll just have to either die of embarrassment or strangle one of them,” I thought to myself with a wry smile. 

I had sat there, pondering the uncertainties of the day to come, for about 15 minutes when the door to her room opened and she appeared in the doorway looking distressed. She was muttering under her breath about being late and I could catch snatches of phrases such as, “damned hair,” as she stood there shuffling through her purse for the key to lock her door. She was dressed in nice pleated tan khaki slacks (or whatever women call the feminine version) and a pretty, low neck, button up, earth tone blue top that fit her bust and waistline in a most complimentary fashion. 

It was her hair, however, that struck me. She was evidently upset with how it behaved that morning. I could see that she had tried to put it back in one of those elegant braids down the back of her neck but had found, over-late, that some of the hair around her face was not long enough to stay back. It had already fallen out and was dangling unevenly down her cheeks on both sides. Most likely in a desperate salvage effort, she had left the braid in and curled the escaping lengths into long, loose spirals. To some women, this might have seemed untidy, however, in my eyes it was incredibly sexy. The long curly lengths framed her face and drew attention to her mystifying eyes thereby taking some of the severity out of the hairstyle. It was perhaps a bit more casual than she had intended, but definitely much more in harmony with her personality. 

She had not noticed me sitting there; transfixed once more by the way her sensually elegant features merged so gracefully even when she was disconcerted. Preoccupied with her hair and with her keys, she had her back partially turned to me in order to lock the door and did not see me rise to my feet and approach. Finally, having managed to lock the door amidst her muttering tirade about her hair, she turned and jumped at the sight of me standing nearby. 

Her sudden movement left one of the locks of hair draped over her left eye. “Oh, I didn’t see you there…I was expec,” but I placed a finger to my lips and she stopped abruptly at my silent gesture. I stepped closer to her and caught her left hand in my right as she made to remove the curl from her eye. Slowly, I placed her hand back at her side.

In a swift, fluid movement I raised my hand to her face. With my index and middle fingers, I then gradually and delicately slipped the hair back into place at her cheek, softly running the finger tips over her flawless skin from the center of her forehead, around her eyebrow and down the side of her face until my hand came to a rest on her shoulder. The intimacy of this move left her speechless for a short while during which I looked longingly into her deep dark eyes. “God, you are wonderful,” she breathlessly sighed.

“Perhaps,” I whispered, “but you are nothing less than an angel.” She blushed deeply in response as I placed my arm around her and led her towards the elevator. On the way down to the ground floor it occurred to me that I had interrupted her in mid-sentence. When I asked what she had been about to say, she had to think for a minute. 

“Oh yeah,” she said, her face brightening suddenly as the elevator door opened at the main level, “ I was going to say that I had expected to meet you in the lounge. I was hoping to introduce you to some of my friends.” She looked shocked when I suddenly cracked up in laughter. 

“I think that I may have already met them,” I said as I recovered myself.

“What! When…where did you meet them?” She gasped out. My mirth subsided with an uncanny swiftness as I saw panic sweep across her face. I was taken back by her reaction.

“I woke early today and went down to the lounge for coffee and…my god, what is wrong, sweetie?” She was backing away from me. If we hadn’t still been in the elevator I was quite sure that she would have bolted off in a heartbeat. “Ohhh no, what did they tell you,” she whimpered. Her hands were trembling, and the look of fear and dejection in her eyes smote my heart. 

“God, sweetheart, nothing bad, I assure you. One of them mentioned that you had told them about me, but that was about it.” This did not appease her or put her off one bit

“I know Gina better than that!!” she shouted. I assumed Gina was the friend to whom I spoke. She did seem to be the ringleader of the group when it came to making mischief. 

“ Well…Ok…she proceeded to embarrass me in front of the others with rather presumptuous sexual innuendos about us…but it was all in fun,” I stated honestly.

Oh, I can’t believe she’d do this to me. I’m so sorry! God, what you must think of me!!” I had been holding the elevator door open and, when someone approached to get in, I grabbed her firmly by the elbow and escorted her to the relative privacy of the empty lobby. Most of the convention goers were in the first workshops by this time.

“What I have been thinking is how grateful I am that the woman who I have not been able to get out of my mind and heart for five years has also been thinking of me!” I said, exasperated, “About how wonderful it is to have found you now, when there is no need to worry about being appropriate, or about professional ethics, or about losing my job, or even about your being married. You could not know how hard it was for me while you were in treatment?”

With that, she stood as though rooted to the floor. It seemed as though my words were slowly penetrating her body, soothing out the anger and fear. Her arms, which she had folded across her chest in a manner that reminded me of my mother when she was angry, gradually fell to her side and a smile slowly replaced the look of betrayal on her face. I held out my hand to her.

With a soft cry she rushed up and nearly bowled me over with a tight hug. “I’m sorry,” she said apologetically, “I love Gina…she’s my best friend…but she can be a bit of a…well…a gossip…and she loves to mettle in other’s love lives.”

“Well, I was flattered by what she had to say, despite my embarrassment,” I replied. With that we preceded, hand in hand in the cool September sun, to my truck lightly discussing places we could go to eat, neither of us caring that we would probably miss at least half of the day’s workshops.

Over breakfast, we discussed our interests and hobbies and I was pleased to find that we shared a love for the outdoors. This topic reminded me that, nearby, was a small neglected park that offered a splendid view of Lake Superior and I asked if she would like to accompany me there. She accepted happily and without hesitation so we finished our coffees, paid the bill and headed back to the truck. I was pleased when, as she entered the truck, she slid way over so that we were sitting close. I was even more pleased when her thanks for breakfast included a soft kiss on the lips. “God, how could I love her so much,” I thought to myself.

As we embarked on the half hour trip to the lakeshore park she laid her head on my shoulder. She was warm and soft and the light scent of her perfume was soothing as she rubbed my knee periodically during the trip. Neither of us spoke until we got to the park. 

I started to get nervous as we pulled into the empty parking lot at the small park. She got out and stretched taking in a deep breath of the clean marine air. A stiff wind had picked up and was blowing cool and steady off the huge expanse of deep, clear blue waters that is Lake Superior, which was hidden from view of the parking lot. I walked around the truck to her and took her hand in mine. Silently, I lead her to the head of a trail that wound back behind the narrow glade of forest that obscured the lake. We followed the trail through the glade. At her first sight of the mighty lake, she gasped loudly. “My God,” was all she could say in her astonishment. Like I had been when I first laid eyes on the splendor of this largest of the great lakes, she was at a loss for words. Despite the possibility of being cooler than comfort allowed, I had been pleased to see that the wind had arose. 

We stood on the sudden edge of a steep sandstone cliff that dropped some 40 feet directly down to the now violent surface of the lake. Inspired by the 25 MPH Northwesterly wind, the waves were at 8 foot and were building, their tops whitening. The huge swells of water were breaking upon the shallows and rock reefs and were crashing against the stone bluffs with unimaginable force. The sun shone brightly on the white foam crests and as they battered the rugged shoreline emitting sprays of water and foam that shone in rainbows in the sun. The lake was a tempest of moving waters. I was a tempest of feelings as I stood next to her watching her reaction.

“My God,” she sighed again as she absently let go of my hand and daringly approached the edge of the bluff. She sat down on the edge with her feet dangling off. I noticed, with wonder, that this woman, who panicked and hyperventilated in many social situations, showed no trace of fear as she sat at the brink of a fall that would surely prove fatal. She was in a state of complete awe at the sight of the lake. I was in a state of total awe at her radiance as she sat dangerously on the edge of that cliff. I sat behind her with my legs spread, straddling her backside and placed my arms around her middle with sensual protectiveness. 

“I have never seen anything so beautiful in my life,” she said in a breathless voice.

“Nor had I until you walked into my life,” I responded lustily. 

She giggled appreciatively at my cheesy disclosure as she turned her head to look back at me out of the corner of her eye. I took the opportunity to kiss her softly on the cheek. As she turned back to the view, I started massaging her shoulders. She seemed to melt at my touch, relaxing to fully take advantage of my tender caress. I continued the massage for as long as my rising libido would allow.

When I could resist her no longer, I placed my arms back around her abdomen and held her close, her back tight against my chest, my chin resting on her shoulder. She responded instantly by reaching back over her shoulder and running her fingers through my soft hair as it blew in the wind. I kissed her on the ear and she shuttered as though electricity had run through her spine. Urgency built in my heart and in my loins as I ran a line of soft wet kisses down her neck. I could feel her heart rate gradually increase as her body responded to my need. Goose bumps formed on her skin as I kissed her neck and shoulders more fiercely, often drawing her satin skin into my mouth. Whimpering in passion she leaned back into me and laid her head back onto my shoulder giving me better access and an invitation to continue. 

Continue I did. As I kissed her sexy neck, I started softly caressing her abdomen with my hands. Imperceptibly, my right hand moved upwards towards her breasts as my left moved downward. I hoped she wouldn’t think this was overly aggressive, but I could feel how urgently she needed release. My own desires had now mastered me as well. She cried out in soft ecstasy as my hand right hand made soft contact with her breast. I massaged them tenderly as my left hand neared its destination. My mind reeled in suspense when it reached the waist of her slacks. 




Precious Fate Ch. 01



I stopped to see if she was going to protest but she responded with a softly whispered, “Yes.” We both held our breath as I gradually slid my hand under the waistband of her slacks and panties. She was moist with pent up desire as I slid my middle finger along her intimate lips. A gasp escaped her lips and she started breathing in uneven intervals as I made contact with her sensitive vulva. She seemed to almost be entranced by her passion. Slowly, I slid my finger into her. She sighed and started to writhe with excitement, stimulating herself on my buried digit. I was awash with my lust for her as I started sliding my finger in and out of her. Tears of bliss were streaming down her face as she moaned, ”Oh God, Its been sooo long.”

At this point I withdrew my finger from her tight passage and found her inflamed clitoris. She reached back again and gripped the hair on the side of my head as I placed a fingertip on each side of her little nub and started to gyrate my hand in unison with our now fast ragged breathing. She whimpered again and entwined her fingers more deeply in my hair as I pleasured her on that beautiful bluff. Her orgasm was coming fast. 

Our pace quickened. I was nibbling on her neck and ear as I ravaged her body with my hands. She began to tremble and a tremor seemed to be building inside her. Sweat was forming on her forehead and neck and I savored its salty taste in my mouth as her release came nearer. I had to abandon her breasts and wrap my left arm around her to keep her from sliding off the bluff in her passion as her orgasm approached. 

Suddenly her body lurched and froze as if she were locked in a seizure. She gripped my hair painfully tight. I could plainly feel the tense quivering inside her as she was wracked by her impending orgasm. Knowing her time had come; I kissed her ear and slid my fingers back inside of her in hopes of intensifying her experience. I half expected her to scream out but she did not. She bit her lower lip, closed her eyes and climaxed silently in my arms. Waves of pleasure surged through her body and I could feel her vaginal muscles clench my finger. 

As her orgasm subsided she loosened her grip on my hair; her breathing now slow and deep. Her soft, now serene, face glistened with sweat and tears. She smiled, the look in her eyes communicated that she was now sated and relaxed. As strong as my own need was, I would not spoil this moment for her with any demands for reciprocity. She seemed almost sleepy as she sat there, soft and warm in my arms. 

After a while she started to shiver in the cool winds and I decided that we had better get her back to the truck. I stood and helped her up. My movements were somewhat impaired by the pressure that had built in my groin. I was a little embarrassed when she noticed the bulge in my khakis but her expression was apologetic. She looked nervously around and I knew that despite her honest desire to pleasure me, she was uncomfortable about doing so here. 

Yes, while it would have been easy enough to remove my hand from her pants had intruders approached, it would be much more difficult to cover things up if my engorged penis was out for the world to see. Much to her relief, I smiled and shook my head. I would have to wait, perhaps until tonight, for my own relief. I didn’t mind, in fact, I was happy to have done this for her. Feeling her climax in my arms was one of the most erotic moments of my life.

We had just got back into the truck when she pulled my face to hers and kissed me deeply. “You are so wonderful,” she whispered in my ear. I flushed at her disclosure. Yet it was she that was the wonder…the miracle…that had walked into my life when I needed her most. I closed my eyes for a moment and pictured the recent scene in my mind. Never before had I paid so close attention to a woman’s orgasm. In retrospect the moment had been almost triumphant.



Precious Fate Ch. 02



--As I had mentioned at beginning of Part 1, the names of the main characters in this story have been kept anonymous due to ethical concerns. Sorry if this make parts of the story a bit hard to read. --

Again in silence, we drove back to the hotel. We entered the lobby to find Gina milling around almost as though she had been waiting for us. The other girls were all sitting on one of the nearby sofas “WELL!!” she barked expectantly as we approached. I felt that a fight was about to break out as my lover clenched my hand, apparently making ready to retort in anger. I pulled her close and put my arm around her.

“Well, we were thinking,” I replied with mock seriousness, “that since our escapades were of such huge concern to you, you might wish to come up to her room and join us.” I gave my sweetheart a sly smile to let her know I wasn’t serious.

“I…but…no…of…of...course not…I am just…I,” was Gina’s response as we walked past her. This time the laughter wasn’t directed at me and I caught the blushing, flustered look in Gina’s face as we passed. 

“Revenge is a sweet thing,” I whispered as we left Gina standing flabbergasted in the lobby and strolled down the hall. She chuckled grimly.

I lead her towards the announcement board where the afternoon workshops were listed thinking that she would want to attend one of these that afternoon. She, however, had other plans in mind as indicated by the way she jerked me towards the elevator. We entered the elevator and she pressed the third floor button. Before the elevator left the ground floor, she was in my arms kissing my lips and neck with playful affection. I was somewhat taken back by her sudden display of sensuality but responded as any wise man would. It was not long before my manhood was demanding release from my tightening slacks.

She stopped abruptly when the bell for the third floor sounded leaving me panting with desire. She took me by the hand and led me to her room. She stopped by the door and faced me, still holding onto my hand. Her more assertive behavior had me slightly perplexed. She pulled me close and kissed me passionately. “This morning has been one of the most memorable times of my life,” she said softly. 

I was glad she thought so but I was now a bit disappointed. I had thought that her seductive advances and her hurry to get us to her room was a prelude to an afternoon alone together. The morning had been undoubtedly the best time of my life, however, and I wasn’t about to let her know that I had high expectations for the afternoon and evening as well.

“This has been the most spectacular mornings I have ever shared with anyone…thank you so much,” I replied with lust heavy on my voice, “I hope to see you at dinner.”

“What? Your going?” she said with obvious dismay, “I was hoping…I mean…I thought…that maybe…you know…that we could have a quiet afternoon in my room.”

Relief and excitement rushed through my body at these words. “Oh, I’m sorry, I just thought that when you said that, it meant …well…I guess I misunderstood you,” I stammered.

“Oh…” she said seemingly reflecting on her words, her face suddenly brightened with understanding, “OH…no honey…no…I was just working myself up to ask you if you wanted to…you know…come in. I mean, after the way you made me feel today I thought I should…I mean it would only be fair to you if…you know.” She broke off lamely and started to fidget looking scared and confused.

I felt horrible for discomfiting her so badly when it was so clear to me now that she was trying to be romantic and seductive. I stepped up to her suddenly and embraced her warmly hoping to convey my apologies in that hug.

“Dear heart, I mistook you,” I whispered softly in her ear, “but you know you don’t have to…I mean you don’t need to feel like you owe me this. I enjoyed this morning every bit as much as you did. It was unbelievably erotic.”

“But I want to, sweetie, I want to please you,” she begged, “Please…”

I was not going to let her plead with me to do that which I desired more than the breath of life itself in the first place. I cut her off with a quick kiss, broke our embrace and, gesturing toward the door, said, “Please, lead the way.” With a shy smile, she fumbled with the lock and swung the door open. 

We stepped into the room and shut the door behind us. Her hands were shaking and she seemed reluctant to look me in the eye. I wondered at this. “What’s wrong, honey?” I asked. 

“N...nothing, I’m just a bit nervous,” she replied in a shaky voice. This was a lie and I knew it. I approached her and took her shaking hands in mine. Reluctantly, she looked up and I caught her eyes.

“Nervous?? Terrified more like it,” I said frankly. Her breathing was becoming irregular and she was having trouble looking me in the eye, both symptoms of an anxiety attack. I had helped her through a dozen of these when she was in treatment and I knew what to do. What triggered the attack was irrelevant for the time being. The first priority was to reassure her. We could talk afterwards. I took her by the upper arms, pulled her to me, and embraced her warmly. “It’s going to be fine sweetie,” I whispered, “feel me breathing and match yours to mine.”

She did as I said and slowly her breathing slowed and became more regular. Her heart slowed and soon she was breathing deep and easy again. I led her to the bed and we sat side by side, my left arm around her waist. Tears swelled into her eyes. As usual, I did not need to ask; she took a deep breath and leaped into her explanation. 

“You were so wonderful to me this morning – so kind and such a considerate lover – and I so needed to feel the way you made me feel…and I wanted to…I still want to…make you feel like that too. You know, in my lust I was so confident and I got myself all screwed up to take you here and really do this right. But then, with that little misunderstanding at the door, I realized that I really had no idea what I was doing. On the bluff…well…that was all you, if you know what I mean. You see I know I was married but I really don’t have much experience with certain things. I mean sure my husband and I did it, but he really didn’t ever want to do anything but…well…lets just say that he just liked to get right down to business and didn’t mess around with any foreplay so I never really learned. I guess that the bottom line is that I’m really not that good and now I got myself in this mess where I’m going to have to perform and I’m scared …scared that I won’t please you like I never could please my husband.”

I let her go on, resisting the typical male desire to cut her off at multiple points to make my logically reassuring arguments. When she was done she sighed tearfully. I grabbed the far side of her face and drew her eyes to mine. “Your afraid that I’ll not be happy with your performance,” I paraphrased to check my understanding.

“Yes,” she replied simply. I took some time to organize my thoughts and then dived into my response.

“Well, first of all, we do not have to DO anything today. Not that I don’t have my hopes up, but I would understand if you just wanted to be held or to just talk. Secondly, if we do sleep together, you could not disappoint me…I love you…I have loved you to some degree since the first day I laid eyes on you. I think you are perfect just as you are and no level of sexual performance could change that perception. Finally, I had already guessed that you might not have all that much experience because I had, correctly it seems, marked your ex-husband as an inconsiderate person who always took you for granted. You were right last night when you told me that that losing him was the best thing to happen in your recovery. Look what he has done to your already fragile self-esteem!” As I rambled through this tirade, ticking my major points off on my fingers, tears streaked down her loving face. 

“God your wonderful,” she said, wiping her eyes on her sleeve, “What did I do to deserve you?” This question, of course, was supposed to be rhetorical and was meant as a compliment. None-the-less, I felt it was indicative of her failing self worth and, therefore, begged an answer.

“What did you do to deserve a wonderful guy like me?” I repeated, “Lets see… You’ve done nothing.” She looked shocked but I continued, “You’ve done nothing to conceal your faults. You’ve done nothing to hide your fears. You’ve done nothing to deceive me or make me believe that you were something that you are not. You’ve been honest and genuine with me from the start. Even on the rare occasion when you do try telling an untruth, you cannot. Your eyes won’t allow it because, deep inside, your heart rejects anything that is untrue or fabricated. For that reason you’ve never developed the skill of hiding your feelings and that is quite an asset. The bottom line is, sweetheart, that you have done nothing to keep your simple, but radiant, beauty form shining forth from those heartbreakingly honest, loving eyes. You are kindhearted by nature. You are considerate. You are beautiful, inside and out. You are perfect…absolutely perfect…just as you are. For these reasons, and many more that I haven’t the time or the words to express, I love you. For these reasons, and many more, I know that, despite any lack of skills, you will be a kind hearted, considerate and, most of all, an honest lover. These qualities count much higher than experience with me. You could not let me down in bed so long as you remain honest and trusting of me.”

These words seemed to register deeply with her. “God, I love you too,” she responded tearfully. I pull her head to my shoulder and held her tightly as she started to cry. Tears had always come easily to her eyes; however, this was the first time since the first day I met her that she actually cried out right. She sobbed silently into my shoulder as I lovingly stroked her hair and massaged her neck. She was precious to me. 

Soon her sobbing slowed and then stopped altogether. With a sigh, she raised her head from my shoulder, her eyes red and puffy. Our lips met and we kissed deeply and lovingly. I held her by the side of her face as the sensation of her soft tongue lashed across my lips. I felt her tears trailing down her cheeks and, instinctively, I kissed them. I followed their moist trail slowly up to those big wondrous eyes. She gasped as I kissed each of her beautiful eyes. “How is it that you know how to make feel so special?” she asked softly. 

“You are special,” I responded, looking deeply into her eyes, “I just treat you like you deserve.”

Suddenly she rose off the bed and stood over me. I looked up at her and saw, again, that look of passion in her eyes, as though there were flames behind the dark stained glass windows of her mind. She kissed my lips delicately and placed her hands on my chest. Slowly, lovingly she pushed me back on the bed. I got back up on my elbows to look at her and she gestured for me to slide back so that I was completely and comfortably on the bed. The expression in her face told me that she would not be denied in this. I complied. She kneeled on the edge of the bed and climbed sensually up my body until she was straddling my midsection. She leaned forward and put her lips to mine, giving me a series of hot kisses that descended to my chin and down my jaw line and onto my neck. I reached up with both hands and held her waist. 

For what seemed like hours she ravaged my neck and ears. Tingling sensations emanated from her ministrations and shot down my spine. My erection strained against the confines of my pants as she reached for the top button of my shirt and slowly undid it. I was trembling with pleasure and unbridled lust as she brought her lips to the base of my neck. She had already unbuttoned my shirt half way down when she trailed kisses along the line of my clavicles before descending her lips to my chest. I gasped with anticipation as she teased my nipple with her tongue. 

My shirt was, by this time, fully unbuttoned and spread wide exposing my full chest and abdomen. I writhed with excitement as she took my nipple in her mouth. The sensation was nearly too much and I moved my hand from her waist to stop her. She caught my hand in hers, however, and held it as her hot lips grazed across my sternum towards my other nipple. I cried out in delight as she delicately drew it into her mouth. I felt as though I was completely at the mercy of her savage carnivorous desires and resigned myself to her. She nibbled greedily down my ribs to my abdomen. She then placed her roaming hands firmly on the mattress at either side of my chest and slid herself down so that she was straddling my upper thighs and knees.

I took all my resolve not to come as her crotch slide over the uncomfortably tight bulge in the crotch of my khakis. She grinned devilishly at my discomfort but, compassionately, she unbuttoned and unzipped my pants to relieve some of the pressure. I sighed with relief. She momentarily looked into my eyes and I saw in them a conflict between her fears and her passion. She seemed to be thinking that this was the point of no return. It was a fierce but brief battle and her carnal desires would not be vanquished. I saw the resolve flash across her face with a smile as she returned her lips to my midriff and rubbed her soft hand up and down my cotton-clad erection. My mind reeled in anticipation as she worked her lips lower and lower until her tongue played along the waistband of my now exposed underwear. 

With considerable struggle she pulled my pants down far enough to fully expose my cotton briefs, all the while, trying hard not to stop attending my lower abdomen with her sweet, soft lips. I tried to arch my back in an effort to assist her but her weight on my thighs made it difficult. Finally she slid down farther, swinging her legs out from under her so that she was lying on her tummy. I obligingly separated my legs so she could lie comfortably. She drew a deep breath and pulled my briefs down.

My erection sprang happily into view. I am not particularly well hung but am not small either. She smiled uneasily as she reached for it. I grabbed her reaching hand and squeezed reassuringly. “ Remember, There’s nothing you could do to disappoint me now,” I said, barely able to keep my voice steady in my desire for relief. Her smile widened brightly in comprehension and renewed confidence. Slowly and irresistibly, I guided her hand to my swollen member. 

Her hand felt like silk as she made contact with it. She clenched it lightly in her palm and started to softly run her hand up and down my shaft. I writhed again in ecstasy and gripped handfuls of the bedspread. She lowered her blissful face to my groin and I could feel her hot breath tickle my hairs. I was so close to coming already that I could only hope that I could hold on. As she stroked my cock with loving tenderness, she started to kiss my inner thighs and around the base of my shaft. Surely, with how close I was now, she had nothing to worry about. In fact, it was just as well that she was a little less skilled at fellatio for it may have helped to prolong the experience.

I moaned softly as she parted her lips around the base of my throbbing manhood and gradually kissed her way up to the tip. She hovered there and looked up into my eyes. I gave her a reassuring nod and closed my eyes. I shuddered involuntarily as the warmth of her mouth slowly enveloped the tip of my cock. Her lips wrapped softly around the head and her tongue played across the tip. As she slid her mouth down the shaft I felt slight twinges of discomfort as her teeth lightly grazed the underside. Perhaps this was indicative of her inexperience but I was thankful all the same, as I would surely have spilled my seed immediately if not for the kinky pain. In any case, she had grossly underestimated her natural enchantment over me. 

When I was as far into her mouth as I could go without violating her throat, I placed my hand on the nape of her neck. Her braids had nearly all fallen out and her hair was soft as it wound around my fingers. I caressed her neck with loving tenderness as she ascended for her next stroke. She moved slowly as if relishing the way I felt in her mouth. She started working her mouth up and down my penis with slow deliberate strokes, at the top of each her tongue lashed around my head. She dragged her teeth periodically along the shaft effectively delaying my impending orgasm. I was gasping for breath. Her mouth felt like wet velvet as it stroked my length. I was at the point of inevitability. I whimpered, ‘I’m so close, hon, you better get off of there.” 

She looked up me at the top of her stroke and shook her head in denial. She plunged down with a final stroke, increasing the amount of suction and lashing the under side of my organ with her tongue. I almost yelled out with pleasure as she slid her lips back up my shaft so that just the head remained in her mouth and her tongue caressing the crevice along the underside. My whole body shuddered. My cock twitched erratically and, with a silent scream, I came wildly in her hot velvety mouth. My mind reeled and erotic pleasure coursed through my body as I saw her throat convulsively working to swallow my hot seed. She sucked the rest my phallus back into her mouth and stroked it’s length a couple more times lavishly before letting it fall from her mouth with a sigh and laying her head serenely on my thigh. Her eyes reflected a kind of fierce pride, like that of a lioness that was feasting on her freshly fallen prey, her soft sweaty curls of hair clinging deliciously to my now deflating manhood. 

My prediction had proven true. Earnest endeavor and honest desire had prevailed over her inexperience. She didn’t need me to tell her that I was pleased; she could see in my eyes that it had been the most arousing moment of my life. After we caught our breath, she crawled up and laid her head on my upper chest near my shoulder. She placed her arm over my abdomen. I could feel her breathing in even content intervals. I softly caressed the back of her hair and neck slowly moving down her back to her perfectly shaped bottom. How I loved her. How I needed her now that I had found her. I never wanted to let her go. The smell of her silky hair mingled with the musky scent that lingered after our escapade. The effect was intoxicating. We both soon fell deeply asleep.

When I awoke it was 3:00pm and we had slept in each other’s arms for 2 hours or so. She was still asleep, nestled against my chest with a look of complete tranquility, her body warm against mine. It broke my heart to wake her but we had missed lunch and would both need showers before dinner at 6:00. I kissed her softly on the forehead and she stirred. She lifted her head and looked with sleepy adoration at me. She sighed contentedly and lowered her sweet head back to my shoulder. “We’ll need to hit the showers if we are to get to the dinner tonight,” I said.

“Oh…Yeah!” she said, jumping up with sudden vehemence, “I’m starving.”

“Me too!” I laughed, and I also got up and stretched. I was still half undressed, my shirt and fly wide open. She had been eyeing me openly with a possessive look in her eye. She apparently considered my ragged partial nudity sexy. She stepped up to me and kissed me on the ear.

“Or…perhaps I could just eat you!!” she whispered wickedly.

We both laughed. I hugged her tightly and then started putting myself back together. Once semi-presentable, I walked to the door. “Should I meet you here so we can go down and eat together?” I asked. She didn’t answer right away and I saw a sad look pass over her face. 

“Actually,” she said, “you may think me over-possessive and all, but I don’t like being parted from you, even for a couple hours.” I laughed again, not in mockery but with empathy and relief. In fact, I didn’t like the idea of going back to my room either.




Precious Fate Ch. 02



“Well, I could just run over there and get my stuff,” I said with mirth, “I would like to shower here; would you like that?”

“I would love that,” she said with a warm smile.

“Ok…you get in the shower first and I’ll run for my bag,” I said. She gave me a perplexed look but I was too excited to wait for an explanation. I ran out the door and walked with swift purpose towards my room, laughing to myself about our childishly romantic resolution.

Half way there, I almost bowled Gina over in the hall. “Where you going in such a hurry?” she asked with a sly smile while needlessly smoothing out her dress. She looked knowingly at my creased and crumpled oxford and khakis. I returned her smile. 

“Just going to get my stuff from my room,” I said, not even bothering to conceal my excitement. She giggled at me

“Do you think she’s gonna melt away or disappear if you take too long?” she asked still with a humorous smile but with a more serious tone.

“I’m afraid, if I don’t hurry, I’ll wake up from this dream and find myself alone in my bed,” I replied with an exaggerated degree of honesty.

She laughed with genuine warmth. “Don’t worry, sweetie, you’re not dreaming.”

I smiled back at her. “Well…just in case, I’m going to get to my room for my stuff.” I made to turn away, but she grabbed me by my shirtsleeve with sudden urgency and earnestness. I stopped and faced her again.

“Listen, I was just being funny before about trying to get her laid but, we have tried to set her up on dates,” she said seriously, “She wouldn’t have them. She said they didn’t compare to you. I’m just glad she found you again. She’s been so lonely and sad and we’ve been worried about her. If you are even half as sweet as she makes you up to be, then she deserves you.”

I was taken back by this disclosure; and flattered by her confidence. “Thank you,” I replied in a sincerely grateful tone. It seemed like it took an emotional effort for her to be serious and sincere; it was appreciated. 

“No… Thank you,” she whispered. She released my sleeve, turned and proceeded down the hall.

As I turned the next corner Gina’s parting comment met my ears. “You know, they just might refund your money if you told them you wanted to check out,” her voice was as sarcastic as ever, “I don’t think you’ll be going back there this weekend.” 

I chuckled to myself. She just couldn’t resist ribbing me. Suddenly, a thought occurred to me and I slowed to my regular walking pace. She was right! I might as well check out! I laughed to myself again at the thought of Gina’s reaction if she found out that I took her advice. With that hasty resolve I ran full tilt to my room and stowed my belongings haphazardly back into my duffle. From there, I ran to the front desk, gasping for breath. Indeed, Gina was correct. They refunded my money without question.

I entered her room panting and lightly perspiring. She looked at me and smiled. “You sure took long enough for someone who ran so fast.”

“I ran down to the front desk and checked out of my room…no sense in paying for a room I’m not going to be sleeping in!” I said with a matching devious smile. 

It was then that I noticed that she had not showered yet. “What’s up?” I asked, perplexed.

“Well,” she responded with a devilish grin, “I thought you and I could conserve water.” With that she moved gracefully to the bathroom and gestured for me to enter. It occurred to me just then that this is what she had intended since before I had left to get my things; hence the look of confusion as I ran out. I complied with a smile.

She entered behind me, took me by my shoulders, led me to the toilet and sat me down on the seat. She stood before me looking nervous. Her hand started to tremble as she reached for the buttons of her blouse. She was fumbling in her nervousness and looked flustered. Clearly this was not going as smoothly as she had anticipated. She undoubtedly had given careful thought to this moment while I was out of the room, but it was a lost cause. As usual she could not conceal her lack of confidence thereby ruining the whole effect. I loved her so much it hurt and my heart went out to her in her dismay. Despite our recent sexual activities, I had not yet seen her in the nude and she was clearly concerned about what I would think of her body. I stood suddenly and swiftly, before she could intervene or protest. My only concern was the distress that she was feeling and I wasn’t going to wait for it to get worse before I intervened. 

She looked confused as I took her shaking hands in mine. “You have nothing to worry about,” I said in lusty voice. I placed her hands on my waist and proceeded to unbutton her blouse with slow, deliberately teasing, movements. She relaxed somewhat but there was still fear in her eyes. This was probably the first time she would be standing naked in anyone’s presence since her husband. Once the last button was released and her blouse open I noticed that she, almost involuntarily, looked down to the insignificant, practically unnoticeable, roll that had developed around her hips and abs. She looked dejected as she ran a shaking hand over it. She then looked me in the eye as if to gauge my reaction to this. I already noticed the little love handles long before; therefore, my affect was unmoved. 

I smiled affectionately and batted her hand away. “Is that what you are worried about?” I asked. She nodded sadly and started into a long explanation of when it started, what she suspected was the cause, and how she felt about it. What she actually had said, I don’t remember because, for once, I wasn’t listening. Instead, I was taking in her luscious curves. I loved everything about her. Her body was a sheer work of art and I was deeply moved. Her insecurity over her appearance was ludicrous and I intended to prove it. 

She stopped her monologue the instant my fingertips made contact with her sexy waistline. She drew a sharp breath as I traced the very tips of my fingers along her curvaceous contour. She whimpered softly as my fingertips followed the lower hem of her bra around to her back. Here I stopped to unhook her strap. 

She cried out in pleasure when I deftly slid her blouse and bra off her shoulders, letting them fall softly to the floor at her heels. Sheer perfection. Her breasts, her shoulders, her waist, all of her assets were in perfect proportion. It seemed to me that the miniscule roll of fat (a whopping 4oz worth, all told) was all that separated her from the heavens and bound her to the earth. I had to see more.

Gently, I pushed her back against the cool tile wall. I advanced aggressively on her hot lips relishing them; worshipping them. I ran my moist mouth along her shoulder blades biting lightly at select points. I took her breasts in my hands and kneaded them as I teased her nipples with the tip of my tongue. I sucked each nipple into my hot mouth. I ravaged her beautiful body with my hands and mouth until she was squirming with desire. I trailed kisses down her abdomen and, dropping to my knees before her, made it a point to pleasure the minute roll that had her so worried. I looked up at her face and notice that she, indeed, seemed to have forgotten about all such preoccupations. 

As I kissed her waistline with full abandon, I popped the button of her slacks and gradually eased the zipper down. She pushed herself away from the wall allowing me to slowly tug her pants to her ankles. She smelled and tasted lightly of sweat and sex. Her whimpering continued as I ran my fingertips softly up her perfect legs. I massaged her round buttocks briefly before I hooked my fingers under the waistband of her cotton panties and pulled them sensually down to join her slacks around her ankles. She stepped out of them and kicked them aside. There I knelt, feasting my hungry eyes on her in her naked glory. She looked delicious standing before me.

A sudden urge came over me and I acted with immediacy. I got to my feet and, as I rose, I wrapped my arms around her midsection and lifted her. Her legs compulsively wrapped around my back and her arms rested on my shoulders as I lifted her completely from the ground. This caught her by surprise and she laughed joyously at my sudden urgency. I took two steps backward and set her onto the vanity countertop. Towels and other items scattered onto the floor. “Easy with me, lover,” she said with a chuckle as she reached for the nearby towel rod to steady herself. 

I was not easy with her. I ravaged her body as she perched precariously on the edge of the vanity. I was rough without being hurtful. I devoured her flesh with my mouth as I explored her sexy curves with my hands ever working in a downward progression towards her newly exposed vulva. I had to taste her, to consume her, to possess her. She was moaning and writhing in pleasure. I was soon nibbling my way down past her waistline. Then I was kissing my way along her hips and down her outer thighs. Meanwhile, my roaming hands found her hot wet vagina. 

As I kissed and sucked and bit my way around to her inner thighs, I ran my fingers down her moist slit, parting her labia and leaving her open and vulnerable to the inevitable. My mouth worked its way up the insides of her thigh as my fingers traced the outline of her now pink swollen vaginal lips, her legs now dangling over my shoulders. Through all this she was whimpering softly in lust, needlessly urging me on. As my mouth reach the soft mound of her pussy, I slid my index finger into her hot tight passage. 

Her mouth fell open in an unvoiced scream as my digit penetrated her. Before she could regain composure, I place my mouth over her sex and ran my tongue the length of her slit. Her eyes, which had been tightly closed, now popped open in shock. I savored her musky scent and flavor as my tongue zeroed in on her clitoris. Her body lurched as my tongue flicked across her nub. I slid my second finger into her and started working them in and out in unison with the lashing of my tongue. As I ravaged her vagina, her breathing and heart rate gradually increased until her heart was racing and she seemed to be close to hyperventilation. As her release approached her eyes seemed to glaze over and she started to softly chant, her abdominal muscles quaking lightly.

“Oh Jesus,” she murmured over and over again as though it where a mantra. Her Nirvana was approaching rapidly. Her chanting became increasingly louder and she would often cry out softly between choruses as I increased the rate and urgency of my cunnilingus. When I knew she was teetering on the verge of her climax, I played my final card. I drew her clit completely into my mouth and sucked softly as I worked my tongue around it in tight circles. This sent her careening over the edge.

She cried out loudly as she came. Her secretions seemed to boil out from around my fingers and her legs clenched around my head, grinding my face into her womanhood. She writhed and convulsed as her orgasm wracked her body. I withdrew my fingers from her quivering vagina and grabbed her hips firmly in order to steady her. 

After what seemed like an eon, her ecstasy gradually dwindled into soft warm bliss. With her muscles relaxing, I was finally able to pry my head out from between her thighs. I stood and watched her fondly, caressing her chest and abdomen, as her breathing slowed. She was leaning back with her sweaty shoulders resting against the vanity mirror and her hands gripping the towel racks on either side. Her gorgeous body glistened with perspiration and would occasionally twitch in response to some indiscernible stimulus as she started to breathe softly and evenly again. When I looked up into her eyes I realized that she had returned to full consciousness and was smiling at me blissfully. 

“That was the wildest sensation I have ever experienced,” she stated in a thick, breathy voice as she released the towel rods. I took her hands and pulled her upright.

“Do you understand now?” I inquired seriously.

“Understand what?” she asked, obviously perplexed.

“Understand how incredibly desirable you are to me,” I responded expectantly.

“Oh, that,” she said with wicked grin, “I’m starting to but, I may need some more lessons like this one to be sure.” I held her tightly and laughed.

With this unexpected activity, we had to hurry in the shower in order to get groomed, dressed and down to dinner on time. As one would expect, I was ready first and was waiting patiently in the chair closest the door when she stepped out of the bathroom at 5:50. We had both decided to dress casual and went down to the dinner in our best jeans and shirts. Her hair was straight and simple again and, as appealing as her hairstyle had been earlier today, this was the look I like best in her. She needed no embellishments. 

As we walked into the hall, hand in hand, Gina called to us and signaled for us to sit by her. Around the table sat the other girls. Interestingly, none of them were giggling. Perhaps I had passed some kind of test with my witty response after our return from the park or maybe our earlier, more serious conversation had formalized my standing with Gina enough that she had called off her harem. Either way the change was refreshing. Of course, she couldn’t help but to stick in a few little comments, but these were more appropriate and directed with less malice. We both had a nice time talking to her and the others over an agreeable dinner. Having gotten through some of her more nasty defensive mischief, I found that I liked Gina a lot. More than anything, I liked the way Gina cared about my new love, almost maternally. 

After we finished dinner, we were about to say our farewells when Gina said, “Should we expect you two love birds at the dance tonight?” 

I looked side long at my love and she shook her head and said, “Actually, Gina, we were thinking about having a quiet night alone tonight.” 

“Less than quiet would be my guess,” remarked one of the others with a chuckle. I had a zippy response prepared especially for this occasion (though I had expected to utilize it on Gina) but was stopped short.

“Come now girls, they have lots of lost time to make up for,” drawled Gina smiling fondly at us both. The girls all gawked at Gina as though they couldn’t believe their ears as we excused ourselves from the table. Gina gave us her hallmark little wink as we turned towards the door.

We were silent and at ease as we walked to the elevator. There was no intense anticipation for we both knew what lie ahead for the evening. There were few, if any, heavy emotional obstacles to overcome. We were at peace and secure in the fact that a pleasant evening awaited. Having released our urges at least once in the course of the day, we were in no hurry. On the way up to the third floor I put an arm around her. I peered into her eyes and saw nothing but tranquility. I smiled and she gave me one of her delicious kisses on the lips. I was pleased to see her at ease with me and, indeed, with herself.

When we entered the room we stood, silently facing each other with our hands joined between us, in the open doorway. She had a serene smile on her lips that was highly endearing. A tear was brimming at the corner of her eye and I knew it was not of sadness or fear but rather, was a tear of joy at being with me and of gratitude for the fate that brought us together.

“How could we love each other so much after just one day?” she said with a happy sigh. Her eyes bore out the fact that her question did not point towards any deep-seated doubt in regards to the sincerity of our feelings for one another but rather was simply a question about how it had happened so quickly…seemingly instantaneous.

“One day?” I said, assuming an air of shock, “But I’ve loved you for five years now!” She looked perplexed.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that I have loved you since your first day in treatment,” I replied matter-of-factly.

“I loved you, too,” she said with a happy sigh, “but, back then, I never would have even dared to think that we’d ever be together.”

“Neither did I; but I fantasized about it.”

“Yeah, me too, I’ve thought about you a lot since my husband left,” she disclosed with a smile, “Gina thought I was nuts, that I was clinging to unrealistic fantasies.”

“And here we are!” I remarked with a grin.

At this, she broke into tears: beautiful tears that streamed down her face sparkling in the light of the bedside lamp. She released my hands suddenly and stepped into my waiting arms, her head on my shoulder. “And I am so happy to be here with you!” she sobbed, “I am so in love with you it almost hurts.” I did not respond but, instead, lead her by the waist over to the foot of the bed.

She stood crying softly as I held her softly in my arms. I kissed her teary cheeks and eyes as I started to unbutton her top. My movements were slow and tender rather than seductive and erotic. In this manner I fully disrobed her and then embraced her naked body. She was still crying softly when she broke our embrace and started to remove my clothing with sweet graceful movements kissing me softly on the neck and chest as she worked. When she finished, she stood facing me again. 

I looked long and deeply into her breathtaking eyes and saw no trace of anxiety or reluctance. I led her playfully by the hand around to the side of the bed and turned back the linens for her to get in. Gracefully, she slid in between the sheets and lay on her side with her head propped up on an elbow. She held out her hand to me with a look of longing in her eyes. With a smile, I took her hand and joined her in the bed.

As I crawled in next to her, she wrapped her arms around me and pulled me close so that my back was to her and our bodies fit together tightly. Her body was warm and soft next to mine. I could feel her sexy features against my back; her warm breath against my cheek and neck, her firm breasts against my back, her soft pubic hair against my buttocks. Our legs and feet intertwined playfully. Slowly, she started to caress my body lightly with her fingertips. She traced her nails across the front of my shoulders and up my neck sending shivers down my spine. She started to run her fingers lovingly through my soft hair. She giggled as the goose bumps rose on my skin. 

I was urging her on with mhms and ahs as the soft, tactile sensations emanated through my body. Suddenly, I felt her sweet lips brush against my neck. I cocked my head slightly to give her better access. Her hand left my hair and tickled its way slowly down my sternum to my abdomen as she started to plant small open mouth kisses along my neck and shoulders. Never before had a woman’s touch felt so enchanting. I lay in her arms for a long while enjoying her tender caress and teasing lips, however, soon the desire to reciprocate overwhelmed me 

I tried to turn suddenly and kiss her but she seized my shoulder and pushed me gently but irresistibly over onto my stomach. I closed my eyes and felt her rise to her knees, crawl slowly over me and straddled my buttocks. I could feel the heat of her vulva on my ass and found that my own libido was rising slowly to the occasion. Her weight shifted slightly and I knew she was leaning forward. Her hands were cool as they made contact with my shoulders. I felt her lean father and opened my eyes briefly when I heard her lusty voice at my ear. “Enjoy,” she breathed, as her hands started to squeeze the tension out of my shoulders.

I cannot say how long she tenderly massaged my shoulders, neck and back. I had quickly reached a state of relaxation that hovered on the edge of unconsciousness. I returned to the present abruptly when I felt her tongue lash across the back of my neck. I shuddered involuntarily at the sharp contrast in sensation. Her lips tickled my neck as she started softly biting the sensitive skin. Goose bumps rose again and so did my erection. My suddenly aroused member was throbbing uncomfortably under our combined weight. Soon, I could not stand it any longer.




Precious Fate Ch. 02



With sudden surge of effort I spun around in a swift movement that nearly unseated her from my thighs. She gasped at my sudden move and placed a hand on the mattress to steady herself. I lay there for a moment admiring her sensual appearance as she looked down longingly at my stiff, swollen member, as it now stood proudly upright against her abdomen. She took a deep breath and looked into my eyes questioningly as if she wasn’t sure how to proceed. 

I took the initiative. I reach out with both hands, gently tugged her down on top of me, and kissed her soundly on the mouth as I wrapped my arms around her waist tightly. Gradually, without breaking our embrace, without parting our lips, I rolled us over so that I was on top of her with my hips wedged between her thighs. I hovered over her almost protectively, propped up on my elbows which I had placed either side of her head just above her shoulders. I could feel the warmth of her body beneath me as I traced the inner edge of her soft lips with my tongue and ran my fingers through her sweet scented hair. My rigid manhood was still resting against her abdomen. 

Slowly, I worked my oral ministrations down the underside of her chin and onto her neck, all the while inching my body down so that I could achieve a comfortable angle to take her. The underside of my cock slid gradually along her pubic hair and, finally, slipped off her torso and brushed downward across her labia. We lie there for a minute in silence. I could feel her beneath me, her breath soft and deep, her body open and vulnerable to my desire. The point of no return was at hand. 

I knew that if I proceeded, it would seal my future with her, binding me to her emotionally and spiritually. I knew she was not a person who took intercourse lightly. Nor was I: on the contrary, I was the type of man that felt that making love to a woman carried with it an unspoken commitment. My own convictions, however, were not in question. I knew that I loved her. I knew that there was no one else I wanted to be with. I longed to be inside her, I needed feel her inner warmth, but not at the expense of her virtue. I stopped and looked searchingly into her serene eyes.

Deeply, I scanned her dark shining eyes for any trace of apprehension. “Are you sure?” I asked, still poised at her entrance. She smiled and pulled me down into an embrace, kissing my ear.

“ I have never been so certain of anything in my life.” she whispered into my ear, “Never have I felt like this for someone – not even my ex-husband. I love you and I know that nothing in this life will ever divide us. I loved you five years ago, I dreamed about you for the past three years and now that I’ve found you I will never let you go. It’s like you are part of me.”

“No regrets?” I persisted. I had to be sure. If there was that awkward, distant silence afterwards, the kind that indicates regret and shame over the sharing of a unfelt intimacy, a part of my soul would certainly die.

“None,” she sighed almost impatiently, “Take me, lover. I am yours and will always be yours.”

Take her I did, with relish. I brought my lips slowly to hers. I kissed each lip lightly, barely making contact. Softly I tickled her lips with mine as I entered her warm body. Her labia parted easily to allow the intrusion, as my phallus inched into her womanhood. I watched with satisfaction as her eyes closed and her mouth dropped open at the moment of my advance. I took her slowly, drawing back slightly before moving deeper, savoring every inch of her soft, yielding vagina. She was beautiful as she lay there taking in a sudden sharp breath, whimpering and raking her nails lightly across my back and ribs with each small advance of my throbbing cock. Inch by slow velvety inch I entered her sweet sexy body. The intimacy of that moment will live forever in my memory. 

Finally, I had no more to give her. She let a small cry escape her lips as my pelvis met hers. I was all the way inside her now and could feel her vagina clenching my member in response to the stimulation I was inflicting on her soft lips and neck as I kissed her. I closed my eyes for a while savoring the moment, savoring the sensations. I could feel her chest rise and fall with each of her deep breaths. I could feel the beating of her kind heart under my chest. Her sweet vagina was alive and responsive around my twitching penis. When I opened my eyes again she was peering into them. Her eyes were alight with love and passion, as she lay there impaled on my erection and awaiting the pleasures to come. “You feel so good, I wish I could keep you inside me forever,” she said with a smile. I was too far along the road to heaven to respond with coherent words.

Her words did coax me in to action however. I kissed her eyes lovingly and then slowly withdrew my modest inches from her sweetly clenching pussy. Her body trembled in anticipation. I drew my cock back until only the very tip remained inside her and then, with a slow steady stroke I entered her again. Again and again I took her this way, marveling at the honestly impassioned responses she exhibited. Soon I started to feel the familiar tingling sensation in my penis that indicated the approach of my climax. I stopped and withdrew immediately. 

Making love that way, slow and easy in the missionary position always over stimulated my erection leading to a premature orgasm. She groaned in dismay stating that she wanted to feel me come inside her. When I told her that I didn’t want to come until she did, she smiled apologetically. She gasped in surprise when I rolled over onto my back next to her and pulled her on top of me again. 

She sat there straddling my lower abdomen looking confused. When she realized my intention a look of fear passed over her face. “But why this way, sweetie, I’ve never…my hus…I don’t know what to do,” She stammered. 

“This way is the most enjoyable to most women because it allows them the best stimulation,” I said factually.

“But what about you?” she asked with kindhearted concern.

“A man can always come,” I replied, “women have a harder time.”

“But how do I…” she started, but I cut her off by placing my fingers on her lips.

“Just lower yourself onto me and then do what feels best,” I said logically, “experiment a little and I’ll make suggestions to help you along.” She gave me a wicked little smile and complied. She sighed deeply as she lowered her warm, moist, velvety vagina onto my pulsing organ.

At first she started moving up and down my shaft in slow graceful movements crying out softly on each downward stroke as the head of my swollen cock brushed her internal hot spot. I soon could feel my orgasm coming on strong again so I stopped her. She looked into my eyes with defiant passion. “Sweetie, if you go all the way down on me and then move in forward and back movements or maybe even in little circles,” I said guiding her hips to demonstrate, “I think you’ll find that it stimulates you better and I’ll last longer.” She tried and she liked.

Her eyes sprung open in sensual surprise at the combination of internal and external pleasure. It was a trick I had learned from an experienced lover long ago to speed up the feminine orgasm, often time so dependant on the pleasuring of the clitoris and labia, all the while delaying my climax which seems to come faster with full long in and out strokes. It worked with splendor. Her gyrating caused my rigid member to bend occasionally with just enough discomfort to delay the inevitable. I looked on her with adoration as she thoroughly enjoyed the new sensations she was experiencing. Her face shone bright with savage pleasure as she worked herself toward Nirvana. I lay there caressing her body with my hands, completely caught up in her building orgasm, as I teetered dangerously on the brink of my own desire.

Soon I could feel the inner rippling in her pelvis and new she was starting her well-earned orgasm. Her gyrating slowed suddenly, again her eyes seemed to glaze over in delight and a sassy smile played at the corner of her lips as she whimpered. Her climax was not as intense as the earlier ones had been but it seemed to run deeper and closer to her soul. I took the opportunity to grab her by the hips and, raising her up slightly slid in and out of her warm convulsing vagina with sudden vigor. 

My timing was perfect and just as her release culminated in a soft crescendo my own seed breeched containment and I came wildly inside her. The sensation seemed to push her orgasm to a higher level as she squirmed involuntarily on top of me for a while and then collapsed onto my chest in a quivering, sweaty heap of pleasure and satisfaction. I kept slipping my now tender phallus back and forth inside her for a while as our mutual climaxes subsided.

Reluctantly, I slipped my softening manhood out of her. My body tingled in the after-wash of my orgasm as she slid over, swinging her leg off me so that she was snuggled comfortably along my side with her head on my shoulder; her hair splayed over her face and onto my chest. I reached over and gently brushed her sweat dampened hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear. She wore an expression of complete tranquility. How I loved her. Her kindhearted manner and honest disposition made her a natural lover. I was every bit as satisfied making love to her as any more experienced lover I had ever been with. She was perfect: sweet, kind, considerate, loving and honest. Best of all she was mine and I was hers.

After catching our breath, we sat up and leaned against the headboard of the bed. She looked adoringly into my eyes and said, “Nobody has ever made me feel that way before.” I looked deeply back into her eyes trying to discern whether this was true of if she was just trying to build my pride. There was no deception in her eyes. I smiled at her and pulled her into my arms.

“Likewise,” I replied, “The sex was terrific, of course, but there was something more about the experience that went beyond mere sexual pleasure. That could only be the way I feel about you. I’ve never loved anyone like I love you.” She responded with a teary eyed kiss that communicated her agreement better than words.

We held each other and kissed softly for a short while and then fell silent. I checked to see what was on T.V. and found a Monty Python marathon. She had never watched English comedy before (how on earth she hadn’t--I don’t know) so we sat and laughed like school children at a slumber party for two full hours, both of us lighter at heart than we had ever remembered feeling. At long last she started to nod against my shoulder and finally slipped into a light sleep. For at least a half-hour I sat and watched her sleep, contemplating how very precious she was to me and how I loved her. Never had I felt such certainty before. This was the woman who held my heart and my future in her soft hands and I trusted her whole-heartedly with them both.

At long last, I started to get uncomfortable and I woke her with a gentle kiss on the lips. Her eyes fluttered open and she smiled sleepily at me. She looked extremely sexy to me as she lay in my arms with droopy eyes. My penis started to slowly respond to the thoughts that had crept into my mind. She rose to slide down and lay comfortably on the bed when she noticed my proud erection and laughed. “God, I’d love to go again but I don’t think I have the energy to get back on top of you,” She whispered, looking back at me apologetically.

“You won’t have to,” I said and I gently guided her down to the bed. I had her lie on her side facing away from me in the fetal position. I slid down behind her and spooned up against her. I had to adjust my angle and her legs a bit but with patience I found the angle I needed in order to enter her from behind. Once I was set, I whispered my love and devotion in her ear as I gently pushed into her slick puffy vagina. Her body yielded immediately and she almost seemed to draw me into her. 

“Oh, honey, that feels so good,” she sighed, “but I don’t think I have another climax in me.”

“Are you sure?” I asked, playfully licking her ear. She giggled in an endearing child-like fashion.

“Yes, lover, but I love having you inside me. It almost feels relaxing. I just want to feel you come inside me. I was too lost in my own pleasure last time,” she said sleepily. Who was I to argue with her? I started to work my sensitized erection inside of her in slow soft strokes.

The feel of her soft round ass against my abdomen was delicious. I wrapped my arm around her, wedged my hand between her thighs and started to rub her swollen clitoris. She moaned softly and gripped the sheets in her fists as I made love to her from behind. She was soft and warm beside me and I started telling her how kind and considerate she was. She responded with a soft sigh. I kept whispering to her as I made love to her. I told her that she was beautiful and explained why. I shared my appreciation for her, my love to her. I bombarded her with her own assets as her vagina pleasured my sensitive cock. Having had relieved my libido inside her twice before in the last twelve hours, I lasted long inside her. She flushed and perspired lightly as I worked her vagina and talked to her about why she was so special to me. I felt that if I could not bring her to climax again at least I could stroke her self-esteem, honestly, for I spoke no baseless flattery. After what seemed like forever, I came.

I tensed and convulsed slightly as my seed poured into her for the third time that day. She sighed in satisfaction as I shook in an orgasm that was long in the building and almost painful in its actualization.

Once I had withdrawn from her vagina, I got up on an elbow and peered down at the side of her face. She was smiling and crying at once. I asked her how she felt and she rolled over and embraced me soundly. “You are so wonderful to me,” she said sincerely.

“I treat you like you deserve to be treated,” I replied as I traced the contours of her face and neck lovingly with the tips of my fingers. She then placed her head on my shoulder and seemed to fall asleep almost immediately.

“I love you so much it hurts,” I sighed into her ear though I knew she couldn’t hear.

“I love you, too,” came her reply, catching me off guard. We giggled one last time together and were soon both really asleep. The most restful night of sleep I had ever had. It was the slumber of a man who was at peace with himself and his future.

*********

It has been two years now since that weekend of splendor occurred and, just as I had suspected, our futures were bound from that day forward. Our marriage had been a bit rushed by the conception of who will soon be our first and perhaps only child together, but neither of us minded. Indeed, even had our child been conceived on that fateful first night together, I would not have been daunted. She lay now beside me in tranquil slumber, the first rays of morning sun highlighting her hair. 

As I snuggle against her, I place my hand on her abdomen, which is now noticeably swollen in pregnancy. A girl, according to the ultrasound, and I know with the same kind of certainty that I had experienced that night in the convention dance hall, that she will be as beautiful and precious as her mother. My eyes closed, I reflect on how grateful I am that I had found her. Precious indeed she was that fated weekend two years ago and, precious indeed she is to me now, more precious than ever.