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Renewal

By: AutumnWriter



© Copyright 2006, 2007

Dear Readers,

The following story is a sequel to the very first one that I wrote, "Remembrance". It is possible to read and understand "Renewal" without reading the earlier work. If you could do so, however, it might enhance your enjoyment of this story.

Thank you for choosing my work for your reading pleasure. Whichever you decide, I hope that you like it.

Autumn Writer

*********** 

George glanced at Helen as she dozed next to him, her sweater draped around her shoulders. He envied the way she could fit comfortably in the space provided by a seat on an airliner. He was on the aisle, she sat near the window. Even in First Class, his long legs were constantly searching for the right place to be. He refolded them as best he could. He was glad to be on vacation with Helen, but getting there was not 'half the fun'. The flight attendant refilled his coffee cup as he shifted in his seat.

"Can I get a blanket for your wife, sir?" she asked with a smile.

"Thanks, no," George answered. "She looks comfortable enough and I don't want to wake her." The flight attendant nodded and moved on.

George asked himself how many times in the past thirty years he had watched Helen as she slept. The answer was that there had been too many to count. He wondered how many times the roles had been reversed—same answer. It had been a lifetime of providing for and watching over one another. Of course, it was more than providing food, clothing and shelter. They were at a stage in their lives when they no longer had to worry about those basic things. The higher needs they filled for one another could never be taken for granted. 

George wasn't a man who often spoke about sentimental subjects. He thought about them often. It was a habit that he picked up during his service in the Pacific during the War. When he was lonely or in fear, he learned how an inner vision could comfort him. Old habits are hard to break. Sitting next to his dozing wife he had good reason to indulge himself in dredging up old memories. All of George's and Helen's vacations were special—there hadn't been many. This one was the most momentous. It started the previous day.

********* 

"George, zip me up, please!" Helen called out.

George disengaged from struggling with his tie and stepped over to Helen standing in front of her mirror. As he took the tab of the zipper between his fingers he heard the sound of a glass bottle falling over on the dresser.

"Oh, wait, George, I knocked over my bottle of cologne!" Helen scolded herself.

George knew that Helen seldom spilled anything unless she was nervous. He waited while she righted the offending bottle and blotted up the small amount of spilled cologne. As the scent filled the space it reminded George of Helen's frugality. Even on an important day she would forego the expense of perfume and settle for the weaker substitute. It was a trait born of their beginnings. They could afford perfume; Helen was used to cologne. A breath of it evoked one of George's memories.

She finished blotting up the spill with a handkerchief and he grasped the tiny zipper tab once again and slowly lifted it up the channel and fastened the little hook at its top. It was perched under Helen's shoulder blades, and nice shoulder blades they were. She wore a dress that was unusually daring for her—but it was a special day. Helen had taken great pains to pick out the special ivory-colored dress with the scooped back and neckline. 

"Why don't you relax?" George suggested. "There's no need to be nervous."

"I'm not nervous!" Helen insisted. "You are—and you're starting to make me nervous, too." 

Her answer was vintage Helen: denial and counterattack. George expected it and took it without offense. He silently congratulated his ability to accurately predict her. He wasn't nervous. It was true that he had reluctantly agreed to the ritual planned for that day. This kind of affair wasn't his cup of tea at all. He agreed, after a coordinated assault by Helen and their daughter, Katherine, that made his Pacific travails seem like a Boy Scout camporee. 

George knew better than to move away from her. Helen picked up each end of her strand of pearls in her narrow fingers and drew them to her delicate collarbone. Without being asked, George fastened the clasp at the back of her neck.

"Sorry," George offered gently, "I just thought that you looked nervous." He held her gently around the waist as he teased her. "Anyway, I think that you look as beautiful as the first time."

"Then you need better glasses!" she shot back as they looked at each other's reflection in the mirror. "It's nice of you to say so, though," she added with a hint of sparkle in her eyes.

************ 

George remembered the Christmas Eve that he gave her the set of pearls. They were sitting next to the tree on the old sofa. It was eleven o'clock. The children were finally asleep. Outside, snow was accumulating and the prairie winds howled. Inside, the colored lights twinkled in the darkness and George and Helen relaxed with a well-earned brandy.

The year was 1961, their fifteenth together. It had been a successful year for George's road building company. The Company debt was finally erased. The children were all doing well. They were easing out of their struggling years. It was a time when things were good. 

"I want to give you your present now," George whispered.  

"Oh, George, you didn't have to get me a present," she protested. It was easy for her to say that. She knew that George would never be empty-handed on Christmas. 

George ignored the admonishment and produced an oblong box that he had hidden under the couch. He had tried to wrap the box, but gave up and settled for binding it with a ribbon.

Helen's eyes widened, betraying her excited expectation. Women always love to be given any kind of jewelry. She slowly untied the ribbon. She paused before opening the box, in a quandary over enjoying the anticipation and the satisfaction of her curiosity. She surrendered and slowly lifted the lid.

She gasped. "George, how beautiful!" Her eyes were glistening. "How could you afford these?" Her fingers caressed the smooth, white orbs.

"It was a good year," George replied. "You, more than anyone, deserve a taste of the fruits."

"We decided that we need to save the profits for reserves," she reminded him. He nodded. She knew that he wouldn't have, nor shouldn't have traded reserves for pearls. Her bookkeeper's mind was sharp. She glanced at him with a suspicious eye. "What happened to the money that you were saving for your new set of golf clubs?"

"What do golf clubs have to do with it?" George asked back. 

"George...?" she demanded.

"I decided that I still like the old ones."

A tear trickled from the corner of her eye.

"I want you to have these more than I want the golf clubs." he assured her after a pause. "Please keep them."

Helen looked at him in silence in the semi darkness, absorbing what he had done, what he had just told her. She placed the pearls on the coffee table and abruptly stood and turned to the stairway.

"I'll be right back," she whispered as she hurried up the stairs.

George sipped his brandy and waited for her return. He assumed that she had gone to fetch her gift for him. He realized that the words 'right back' meant that he had at least several minutes to wait. There was no denying that she liked the pearls. He savored his satisfaction in sacrifice along with his drink. 

The scent of her cologne preceded her into the living room. The lights of the Christmas tree cast a heavenly glow on her. She wore a sheer, floor-length negligee and carried a down comforter from their bedroom. George watched her walk slowly to the coffee table where her unfinished brandy sat. She lifted it to her lips and downed it in one gulp. 

"Help me put the pearls on," she whispered to him, "and then make love to me." 

He stood as ordered and clasped the string at the back of her neck. She turned and they kissed. It was tender and slow, conveying what they felt in that moment. It was a kiss that overrode one's sense of time. It was not just of soft, yielding lips, but also of arms and hands and bodies pressed and held against one another.

Helen spread the comforter on the couch and then turned to strip him of his clothes. George knew to follow her lead. When she was done she embraced him and they felt the hardness and softness of their bodies. She stepped back slightly. George pushed the top the nightgown down until it pooled around her waist. He stopped for a moment to savor her naked shoulders and breasts. The hard points of her shoulders and collarbone etched the half-light emanating from the Christmas tree. The softer areas became inviting shadows. Her chest rose and fell with her excitement, a little more with each breath. Her lips were parted slightly; her eyes wide and glistening.

George pushed the gown down again and they were both naked, save the pearls. A musky aroma mixed with her cologne. They disappeared beneath the comforter on the sofa. They made love for hours, and then slept until the new morning's sun shot a beam of brightness at them, augmented by the fresh snow. They hurried to their bedroom, lest the children find them. 

George used the old set of clubs for the entire season. He finally purchased a new set the following year. He put the old set away in a safe place, unwilling to part with them. 

********** 

George snapped out of his reverie, overcoming the distraction of the aroma of Helen's cologne.  "Want to elope?" he asked facetiously.

Helen leaned back into George, enjoying the contact.

"Mmmm—that's an interesting idea." she purred. "The children would never forgive us."

"They would just have the party without us." George reasoned and bent to kiss the base of neck at the juncture of a bare shoulder.

"Well, the boys might, but Katherine would be crushed." Helen partly conceded. "And, if you mess up my makeup we'll be late." she added with a chuckle. Helen knew how George hated lateness and he released her on cue.

"I'll save some for later," she consoled him.   

George finished with his tie and they were ready to go. They poured themselves into the Ford Country Squire wagon and made their way to their church where family and friends waited for them. There was a banquet hall prepared for afterward. It was a Sunday afternoon in March 1976. George and Helen had been married thirty years. The occasion was their renewal of their thirty year-old marriage vows.

********** 

Helen started stirring when the plane encountered some turbulence as the jetliner passed over Dallas. She had fallen asleep shortly after turning down lunch offered upon rising out of O'Hare. Air travel was an infrequent adventure for the couple. George, of course, had his share of it during the War. To Helen, there was no reason to risk an unfortunate mix of airline food with a jumpy stomach. She passed her portions to George, who greedily devoured them. 

"How'd you sleep?" George asked as she opened her eyes.

"Not bad!" she answered. "I needed it. That was some party last night."

The layover at O'Hare was tiresome, too," George added.

Helen had promised George to 'save some for later', but it hadn't worked out. She never meant to break her pledge, but the champagne was flowing at the reception after the ceremony. Helen usually limited herself to two at such affairs. After all, she had a deserved reputation for getting woozy after sniffing the cork. On such a special occasion she had indulged herself to four. As she finished the third one, George gave up on any carnal expectations. He didn't mind, though. To see her as excited and happy as she was at the reception was well worth postponing his other plans.

"Thirty rears!" Helen mused. "I guess that we finally made it after all."

"Your father didn't think that we would," George reminded her in his sarcastic tone.

"He just wanted us to wait a little while," Helen corrected. "You wanted Katherine to wait. I think that it's a test for us women. When we're able to stand up our fathers it's a sign that we're ready to go." 

George shrugged and thought back to the hot afternoon in July 1946 when he and Helen presented themselves in the front room of the old farmhouse. Just home from the Navy, George wore his summer khakis. He hadn't had a chance to buy any civilian clothes. The old man wasn't impressed—never released his scowl. He could match George hardship for hardship. He fought the battle of the Dustbowl on his Iowa farm long before George went to the Pacific. George was unused to the treatment. He had gold oak leaves on his collar. He was used to salutes, not scowls. He stood his ground. He didn't need 'permission' to marry Helen. He was only showing respect.

"He warmed up later," George admitted.  

"He told me, before he passed on, that he changed his mind about you when you stood up to him in the parlor," Helen informed him.

"You never told me that!" George exclaimed in surprise. "Well, I'll be..."

"I was waiting to tell you until I could be sure that you wouldn't get a swelled head," Helen teased. She felt comfortable in the little barb because she knew that George had never suffered from that condition.

George remembered how the old man wasn't so gruff once a person spent some time with him. He would let down his formidable exterior after he had a chance to size up a man. If you passed, he was your friend and nothing could ever change that. He turned out to be a model grandfather. He died in 1965. He lived through hard times and good ones. He had run the good race, and was tired. His son still worked the farm.  

They were silent for a while. Each turned over pages of past memories of their choosing from their mind's eye albums. 

"Everything turned out so well yesterday," Helen said. "Thank you for going through with it, George. I know that you don't really like those things, but you never showed it through the whole ceremony."

It wasn't his favorite thing to do, but George wouldn't ruin the day for any reason. It was over before one knew it and it was on to the reception.

"It was a far cry from our wedding thirty years ago," George observed.

"Times were different then," Helen reminded him.

*********** 

It was July 1946; they had license in hand and a small group at Rev. MacDonald's parsonage. George wore his dress white uniform. His old, pre-war clothes didn't fit him and he had no money for a new civilian set of clothes. His mustering out pay was reserved for the honeymoon. Even his 'whites' were in doubt until the last minute while the navy scrambled to find his sea bag. Helen had a mid-calf white dress with a makeshift veil. There could be no long, white trains and organ music if they wanted to get married right away. Helen made her choice. 

George's friends were scattered far and wide. Some of them had met their fates in Bastogne, Okinawa and faraway places in-between. George had Purple Hearts from Tinian and Iwo Jima. Helen's younger brother stepped in as Best Man. Her best friend was the Matron of Honor. There were George's parents, proud of their veteran son, Helen's father, and a single white rose standing in for Helen's mother who went to her reward in'39.

Rev. MacDonald recited the words from the book. Helen wished that he could have set aside his taciturn manner. It wasn't the Reverend's way to do that. Probably, they reasoned later, he had performed the ceremony for so many returning servicemen and their brides it was hard to get excited about it any more. Nevertheless, Rev. MacDonald had baptized her and laid her mother to rest. She wouldn't be married by anyone else.

Helen's father sprang for an after-wedding dinner at the Davenport Hotel. George's father loaned him his car for their honeymoon trip to Chicago. George and Helen were bursting to talk about their plans and their trip to Chicago. The fathers talked shop across the table, about farm implements, price supports and Truman. It was aggravating, but they were the patriarchs.

They stayed in the Hotel that night and started out on the road the morning after their wedding. It would be Helen's first visit to a city bigger than Des Moines. It was all so daunting. It became their first adventure. And, of course, there was their first night.

********** 

The plane rumbled on, putting miles between them and their home each minute.

"Helen," George asked without warning, "do I talk 'shop' very often when no one else is interested?'

A startled look etched on Helen's face. "No, George, not very often." she fibbed. "Just every Sunday at dinner when the boys come over." she added silently. 

The 747 soldiered on. They felt it turn and Helen looked out her window at the Texas coastline below fading away. There was another two hours left in their trip. The stewardess was bringing dinner.

"Davy and Jim better get that bid for the Ames Connector job ready this week," George said out of the blue, between mouthfuls of dinner roll.

"They'll do just fine. Stop worrying," Helen gave her predictable reply.

It was hard to not worry about something that had been George's job to worry about for twenty-eight years. A few years after they were married he founded the road building company that bore his name. It was a risky move. Recession fears were in the air and inflation was out of control. George was long on experience and know-how and short on strategic contacts. His company survived by accepting subcontracts from larger firms. Helen was expecting for the first time. She never wavered or showed her fears. George and Helen sunk what little they had in the venture. George's and Helen's fathers put money in. too. George still had his confidence from his Navy service. "Building roads was just like the airstrips in the Pacific, except longer and easier," he would often say. Usually, Helen believed. Other times she wondered if he was whistling in the dark.

Helen, pregnant with George, Jr., kept the books while he supervised the jobs. It was hard work and success was often in doubt. The big break came when the government built the Interstate System. There was work for all. By the time the building boom was over, George's company was the best in the state and won contracts with ease. He repaid his parents and father. He intended to repay them with interest, but they refused all but the original amount. 

His sons were in the business. Jim, twenty-seven, had just taken charge of Engineering. Davy was two years younger. He backed up Lloyd Kingsley, the company Controller. The younger son was still young and needed experience. He would take over that job when his mentor retired in a few years. Davy did a lot of estimating of the jobs with his brother. George supervised the jobs and kept an eye on the two young tigers. He would pass the Company on to them one day, but he wasn't ready yet, nor were they. Construction season was still a month away. It was one reason they chose the month of March for this vacation, even though their true anniversary was in July. 

"It's a straight-forward job to estimate." George asserted. "I can always fix it up when we get back, if I have to."

"They'll do fine," Helen repeated. "If they don't, Lloyd will get them back on track."

George knew that Helen was right, but he considered it his privilege to fret over the Company whether it needed it or not. He decided that he had given the concern its due. He stopped worrying about it—until later.

"Did you buy a new bikini for the beach?" George asked her as a friendly joke. He knew that she would never appear in public wearing any such thing. Helen retained a good figure from her younger years, but her reticence wasn't about looking good enough. 

"I did buy two new bathing suits," she answered, sensing his ribbing, "but not those European Style suits." She assured him  


Renewal



"Why not?" George countered. "I'd bet that you'd look good in one!"

"Oh be quiet!" she scolded in mocked irritation. "I'm too old for such things and you're just teasing me." Secretly, she loved hearing him say it.

"You're not too old." George insisted, but received no answer in return. "I wouldn't mind seeing you in one," he asserted, pressing harder for a response.

"Ohhh, I knew that I shouldn't have fallen asleep on you last night! Now you'll be impossible." It was the answer George was hoping for.

************ 

Their banter about the bathing suits took George back to 1946. They were driving home from their honeymoon in Chicago. They bought some sandwiches and lemonade for lunch at a little diner in a small Illinois town. 

"There's a nice place for a picnic a few miles out on Route 34," the waitress told them. "It's right on your way. You just have to be sure to find the cutoff road."

They decided to have the sandwiches wrapped to go. The waitress smiled after them as they headed for the car. They found the dirt road with ease and spotted a grove of trees in the distance where the creek cut through the prairie.

Once, it might have been a nice picnic area, but it hadn't been used or attended to for years. The tall grass had overgrown the several old tables. At first they were going to just sit in the car and eat, but the creek running through the glade looked so inviting. They decided to mat down some of the grass and make a place for themselves beside the creek.

The sandwiches went down fast, but they decided to spend some extra time in the relaxing place. They discussed their impending move to Des Moines where George had a job in the State Highway Department waiting. Helen would seek a job in the Public Library until they had their family started. George mentioned that he thought that he could start his own company one day. Helen shrugged and said 'maybe'. George asked if they could name their first 'George, Jr.' 

"What if it's a girl?" Helen protested. George was stunned at the suggestion. He hadn't thought of it as a possibility.

The midday sun was hot. It was almost time to get back on the road. The creek beside them slowed in the flat countryside and pooled to a slow-draining pond under the trees.

"Great spot!" George thought out loud. Helen nodded in agreement. 

"I'll bet that water's nice and cool," he hinted.

"It probably is," Helen agreed, unsuspecting.

"Let's go for a swim." George suggested.

"It would be nice, George, but our suits are packed and..." She spied his evil grin and slowly discerned the meaning. "No—not a chance!" she declared, incredulous and on defense, but George had already stripped off his shirt.

"C'mon!" he urged "No one has been here in years." He was at her, unbuttoning her cotton dress. She raised her arms to her chest to stop him, but he had his hands under the skirt, stroking the flesh of her thighs.

"Stop, George!" she whimpered, but the seeds of excitement were already sewn and he detected the hint of a naughty laugh. She protested to the end, but somehow their clothing lay in a heap in the grass as they waded out into the pond. 

He had seen her nude many times during their honeymoon, but always in the safe space of their hotel room. It was different out in nature, in the sunlight. To him, she was even firmer and more beautiful than before. They took temporary ownership of the deserted pond, like Adam and Eve. The sun kissed her skin. Once nude, she lost her shyness. She was risking with him; unashamed to be naked with him; relishing his desire for her. She would give it all to him. 

They made love in the grass after cooling themselves in the water. They lay there nude, unafraid.

He was lying on his back. She came along side and hovered over him, propped on her elbow.

"I think I might have just become pregnant," she told him, finishing her rhythm-method calculations. She waited for his response.

"I hope that you are," he answered immediately and then kissed her.

She was mistaken; she wouldn't conceive for over a year. It didn't matter. What took place at that little pond in the countryside in Illinois answered many questions. 

********* 

"I wonder if that grove of trees with the creek and pond are still there." George wondered to himself.     

They finished their dinners and were having coffee. They would be landing in forty-five minutes. Helen fumbled through her purse checking for passports and hotel information. In a way, she was still keeping the books. It was the third time she had checked them. It was her first trip outside of the United States.

Katherine did a nice job arranging the reception, didn't she?" George changed the subject to take Helen's mind off her worries.

"Yes, especially doing it long-distance from Ames." she answered.

Katherine was their youngest, now twenty-three and an Assistant Librarian on the Iowa State campus. As her brothers had followed their father into the road construction business, she had emulated her mother in studying Library Science in college. She looked more like her father than her mother, tall and slender.

She married soon after college graduation. Her groom was a grad student in Agriculture. Her parents urged her to wait; she wouldn't. In the end George and Helen accepted her marriage and her husband. It all seemed to be working out. 

Katherine had been a 'Daddy's Girl' until she went off to college. After that, she and her mother became closer. She used up her vacation to arrange all the details of the big day. Davy and Jim had larger salaries and paid for it. Katherine could only contribute hard work. She had done well.

"Everything went off perfectly," George attested.

"It would have been completely perfect if George, Jr. had been there," Helen sighed. 

George, Jr. was the couple's first born and lived three years. Meningitis took him. The lost child was never far from their thoughts. It was a bitter blow that many families faced. The toddler died as Helen was expecting Katherine and caring for Davy and Jim. The grieving parents buttressed one another in sorrow. George's parents helped. The shared suffering made Helen and George's mother very close. The death hit Helen hardest because she was quarantined from the sick child because of her condition. The boy died one night in the hospital in George's arms. It was impossible to go through a Christmas or major family event without evoking Helen's recollections.

"If he could be here he would tell us not to be sad—life goes on," George reminded her.

"I know, George. I don't think that I will ever get completely over it," she admitted.

"I don't expect you to," George soothed. "I won't either. Everything in its place" He took her hand in his own. 

George was actually glad that the subject had come up. He knew that it would sooner or later—better sooner. He didn't try to talk to her more. She needed some time to silently sort her way through it once again. He picked up a magazine from the seat pocket in front of him and started to thumb through it. She would come around soon enough after she dealt with her feelings.

The plane started its descent. The stewardess started stowing things away and picking up cups. The seatbelt sign lit. They were almost there. The captain announced their imminent arrival in Cancun. It had been a long trip; it was almost over.

Cancun is a resort at the eastern-most point on the Yucatan Peninsula. It is a manufactured resort in the sense that the Mexican government decided to establish one there in the 1960's as an economic development project. It is known for its beautiful, warm, aqua-colored waters, white-sand beaches and abundant sea life. In contrast with the Pacific resorts that feature powerful surf and impressive sunsets over the ocean, Cancun's waters are placid.

It had been a long trip. They started out in Des Moines at nine that morning in the cold and snow. They landed nine hours later at six o'clock in the tropics. It would take another hour, at least, to collect their luggage and clear customs. 

They sat patiently as the plane taxied to the terminal. Suddenly, Helen gasped and thrust her face into her hands. She turned and looked at George.

"What did we forget?" he asked, puzzled.

"Your golf clubs!" she answered. "They were in the garage, ready to go and we completely forgot them."

"No, I left them on purpose." George mumbled.

"Why, George?" she looked at him incredulously. She pondered for a moment. "Oh, dear; it's your tendonitis acting up again, isn't it?" she answered her own question, shaking her head in sympathy. 

"Maybe the warm weather will be good for it," George said dismissively. 

********** 

They finally reached the hotel at eight-thirty. It had been a trying time. They finally found their luggage that had missed the plane in Chicago and sent on another flight. By the time they resolved it the rest of the flight had cleared customs. The customs inspector had nothing to do, so he searched every one of their bags. A tactful mordida would have solved the problem, but George was a man of principle. 

Most of the arriving guests had already checked in by the time they arrived at the Hotel Krystal, one of the best in Cancun. George finished signing the registration card and the clerk looked about nervously for a bellman. There weren't many about. Most left for the day with the majority of the guests neatly tucked in their rooms. The clerk slammed his hand down on the bell. "¡Arriba—Frente!"" he yelled.

Finally, a bellman came into view. He wasn't really a man, but a boy who looked to be fifteen. Perhaps, even, his hard circumstances made him look older than he truly was. He had a hard time filling his uniform. The name tag on his uniform read 'Francisco'. The desk clerk motioned him to the American couple. Helen immediately liked him.

"¡Si, señor!" he approached shyly. George motioned to the bags and handed the youth the room key. 

They followed Francisco as he piled their luggage on a cart and headed for the elevators.

************ 

The elevator door opened. George, Helen and Francisco crowded in, along with the cart carrying the luggage. There was little activity and no one else joined them. The doors closed and Francisco pressed the button. The disk with a twelve illuminated. All were silent as the elevator car ascended through the floors.

It stopped on the ninth floor. George and Helen shuffled to the side to make room. The door slowly folded to the side. A group of three youths crowded into the elevator car.

It was obvious that they weren't hotel guests, nor were they hotel employees. Their manner and dress were rough. They wore sneering expressions as they eyed the middle-aged gringo couple and undersized bellhop. George guessed them to be about eighteen. He looked at Helen, who looked back nervously.

As the elevator restarted its ascent, one of the youths pressed the 'ten' button. The elevator stopped again. As the door started to swing open, the largest youth grabbed Francisco, knocked him to the floor and started rifling his pockets for his tips. Helen let out a cry of alarm and fear. The others each grabbed a suitcase and headed for the door. George followed them.

He caught one of them. The burden of the suitcase slowed him too much to get away from the older man. George took hold of his captive and threw him against the wall. The stunned youth released his hold on the suitcase, and then fell into a planter. The third youth had stopped, looking back to find his compatriots. He saw George rushing toward him. He chose discretion over valor; he dropped the suitcase and ran away.

George turned back to the elevator where Francisco and Helen tenaciously were holding onto the third miscreant. George grasped him.

"Give it back!" he shouted at the struggling youth. "Give it back!" He grabbed hold of an arm and slammed it into the side of the open elevator door. There was a yelp of pain. The clenched fist opened and the money in it fell to the floor. George released him and he ran off to join his fellow failed conspirators. George stepped into the hall to retrieve their suitcases. Helen bent down to pick up the salvaged money and handed it to Francisco. A crowd of guests, by that time had emerged from their rooms to investigate the noise. George looked around to see them gawking at the curiosity. He took hold of Francisco's arm and patted him on the back. 

"A good man!" he declared to them all, motioning to Francisco. 

They disappeared back into the elevator and continued to their floor. When they entered their room Francisco was downcast.

"Lo siento mucho, señor." he said with a shaking voice. "Sir, I...am...sorry," he struggled with the little English he knew. He picked up the room telephone and called the desk, speaking briefly in Spanish. He handed the receiver to George.

"Señor, we apologize for what happened." The desk spoke in English over the phone. "Francisco has explained everything. We are sending our security agent to speak with you. Francisco will stay with you until he arrives."

George related the story to the agent when he arrived. There was not much to tell. The detective nodded and took notes. He repeated the hotel's apology. 

"You've got a pretty good man here in this young lad! He really watched out for us," George told the detective, slapping Francisco on the back. It was only partly true. He just wanted to protect the boy from being fired.

"Si, he is one of our best," the detective agreed, patting the young bellhop on the head.

At that point there was a knock on the door. The detective opened it. A busboy entered carrying an ice bucket with a bottle of champagne chilling in it.

"It is compliments of the hotel," The detective explained. "We hope that it will compensate for any inconvenience." 

"Thank the hotel, please," George said. He reached into his pocket and took out a roll of American bills.

"Francisco, this is for you." George said, peeling off a ten.

The boy looked at the tip in shock. It was more than he had earned for then entire night.

"¡No, señor, la propina es demasiada!" Francisco protested.

"He is saying that it is too much, señor. It is a very big tip." The detective explained.

"Tell him to take it before the tax man gets it." quipped George to the puzzled pair. He sensed that they didn't understand his sarcasm. He tried again. "Tell Francisco that I want him to have it, please," he said more simply.

"¡Está bien!" the detective told the lad.

The boy paused for a moment in thought. Then he smiled broadly, partly in pride, his good fortune and in friendship. "Me llamo 'Pancho'. Gracias, señor."

"He wants you to call him 'Pancho'. It is the nickname of 'Francisco'." 

"Pancho!" George nodded.

"¡Buenos noches!" the two Mexicans said their goodbyes and left Helen and George to themselves with their champagne.

*********** 

Helen finished unpacking their suitcases and arranging things in the room. It was ten o'clock. She opened the sliding glass door that led to a small balcony. There was a small wrought iron table and a set of chairs. She looked into the blackness of the water. The darkness erased any horizon. There were only some lights on the beach twelve floors below. She could faintly hear the waves breaking on the shore.

An onshore breeze embraced her and wafted into the room behind her. It felt nice. It was a warm tropical breeze, but the night blunted the oppressive daytime heat. Helen judged the natural air more pleasant than the artificial coolness of the room. She went inside and shut off the air conditioner.   

"Let's have the champagne out on the balcony," Helen called to George in the bathroom.

"That's my thinking, too," George said as he emerged from the closed door. He had already changed into his cotton pajama bottoms.

"Why don't you open the champagne while I change out of these clothes? I've been in them all day," Helen said as she disappeared into the bathroom.

George carried the bucket with the ice and unopened bottle onto the balcony. After some twisting and pulling the champagne cork surrendered and he poured himself a glass. He knew better than to pour one for Helen. Experience taught him that she would be awhile. It would be pointless to complain; his urgings would fall on deaf ears. He decided to be patient and enjoy the champagne.

George put his feet up on the balcony rail. He concentrated on the air blowing across the bare skin of his chest and shoulders. He heard the waves below. It had been decades since he had seen salt water. Helen never had. Tomorrow they would go swimming. He reminded himself to make sure they used plenty of suntan lotion in the tropical sun. He forgot about the earlier incident in elevator, except for his new friend, Francisco, who allowed him to use the nickname 'Pancho'. He finished his glass of champagne and poured himself another.

George heard the bathroom door open from inside the room. He didn't turn to look; he knew that it was Helen. It was a faster exit from the bathroom than he was used to. He poured her out a glass of champagne. The scent of her cologne preceded her onto the balcony. She sat in the chair beside George.

"The balcony is nice," she said as she took her first sip. "Why don't we leave it open tonight and leave the air conditioner off?" George nodded in agreement. "This room reminds me of our hotel on our wedding night," she declared in a soft voice.

George glanced over. She had changed into a nightgown, but he couldn't see the details as she had also donned a white peignoir. She was barefoot, as he was. The makeup and grime from the day's traveling had been scrubbed from her face. His interest piqued at her sentimental remembrance.

"How so?" he asked, in an effort to encourage her to reveal more. 

"It was a warm night, then," she began. "There was a balcony just like here. We looked out over the Mississippi, just like we're on the Caribbean now." 

"True enough!" George confirmed. "We had champagne, too."

"Yes, but I didn't have a chance to drink any," she giggled. "And you didn't have to beat anyone up to get it," she teased.

"You remember a lot," George said. 

"I remember everything," she clarified.

"I didn't beat anyone up." he corrected her. "I just encouraged them to leave."

"I know," she acknowledged. "I also noticed that your shoulder seemed fine while you were doing it. So, what about this 'tendonitis' and what really happened to your golf clubs?"

"I never said that my shoulder was acting up," he answered evasively. "You just assumed it."

"The question still stands." She knew him too well to settle for one of his opaque explanations. 

George paused, seeking the right way to frame his reply. He gulped down the last swallow of his champagne.

"You see, Helen," he began to explain, "I left them behind because..." George leaned closer to her. He stroked her petite shoulder and then cupped her face with his powerful hand. Helen's questioning eyes searched into his.

"I left the golf clubs in Des Moines because...I just don't think that I would ever be able to make those early tee times."

Helen gasped at his answer. It reminded her of her pearls bought by another sacrifice of golf clubs a long time ago.

"George, you could have..."

"I just didn't want to." 

"Come into the bedroom," she breathed. "I have something to show you."

The hotel room was dimly lit by a lamp beside the bed. George noticed that she had turned down the covers before her entrance on the patio. On the warm night, with the ocean breeze to soothe them, they would need only a sheet at the most. Helen walked, with tiny steps to the side of the bed, George obediently behind her. Her beckoning told him to expect something special. The dim light faintly outlined her, lending mystery to the scene. 




Renewal



"Stay right there, George," she ordered, and he halted a few paces away from her. "Let's see if you remember, as well." She drew her hands to the button of her lacy peignoir. She undid the first button and shot him a provocative glance. George saw it and his expectation led to excitement. He hardened in reaction to it underneath his pajamas.

In a moment the gauzy robe was unbuttoned and discarded in a chair beside the bed.

"I haven't seen that in a long time," George said, proving his memory.

"Are you surprised that I still fit into it?" she asked. 

"No," he replied. "You look just like you did thirty years ago." It might have been a lie to say that, but just a tiny, white one.

George took a moment to savor his bride in her satin negligee. It was the same one in which she presented herself to him on their wedding night thirty years before. It was a double pleasure to behold her in it. Her shoulders and collarbone were just as delicate as they had been the first time. The deep vee in the front foretold of breasts underneath. The slippery fabric still hugged her hips, and they looked good. 

There was more. Her apparition told him that what they had begun so long ago was still new, in a mysterious way. They knew each other so well, yet they were so unpredictable in the way they came together. The sight of her in that negligee, whether in the flesh or in the mind's eye, would always inspire and excite him. She would always be sure that it would never fail to do so.

"What else do you remember?" she whispered at him in a husky, penetrating voice.

"I recall that I didn't know what to do." 

"What about now?" she asked hopefully.

"I've learned a lot since then." 

"Good!" she declared. "Let me get you started."

She slowly raised her right hand over her left breast to the strap on her shoulder and slid her thumb under it. She gazed into him; her lips parted in a tiny smile. She paused a moment to tease him, then lifted the strap slightly and pushed it over so that it cascaded down her arm, coming to rest at her elbow. She repeated the step with her left hand, and then let her arms fall gracefully to her sides. The bodice of the gown, unsupported by the straps threatened to fall away and expose her breasts underneath. Somehow, it did not, but hung precariously on her.

George stepped forward. He placed his hands gently on her soft shoulders. Their eyes pierced one another's. He slowly caressed his way down her two arms, snaring the straps in the process, pushing softly down. The lace fell away from Helen's breasts; he did not stop there. As the bodice pooled at her waist he eased it down a little lower until it fell away completely. As it did, Helen closed her eyes and exhaled loudly, as the unwrapping, itself, brought pleasure to her.

George untied the drawstring of his pajamas and tugged the waistband over his erection. He stepped forward to kiss Helen, but thought better of it. He brought his hands up to her chest and gently captured her breasts. He squeezed them tenderly and stroked his thumbs across the hardened nipples. Helen exhaled all her breath yet again. Her eyes were still closed.

George released her breasts and stepped forward. As he did, his penis bumped her in the belly. He clasped her around the shoulders and kissed her. They kissed for a long time. Their lips caressed those of the other and at the end, their tongues danced. George nudged slightly, a sign to lie down on the bed. They lay together a while embracing, kissing, caressing, touching. 

Helen broke the embrace and pushed on his shoulder so that he would lie on his back. As he did, she straddled him. Hovering over him, she bent lower and dipped a nipple to his lips. He suckled it and her moans spoke to him of her pleasure. She did the same with the other. She slid down a little so that she could kiss him, then more so that he entered her, and eased in all the way.

They moved slowly at first, enjoying the flames as they built into a higher blaze. After a few minutes they thrust more strongly. As her climax approached he grasped her buttocks, deepening himself in her, and took over the impetus of their movements. Soon, she tripped over the edge of reality, flying into the realm of ecstasy. Afterward, she lay panting on his chest. He remained still, patiently buried deep inside her.

"Your turn now," she whispered her husky voice in his ear after she regained her senses.

She dismounted him and rolled onto her back. Her thighs were spread wide and her knees flexed. She reached up her arms to welcome him. George placed himself at her entrance and slid back into her. He thrust in deeply. Helen moaned in renewed pleasure and wrapped her legs around him. He fell forward, supported by his elbows. As he thrust forward he rubbed his chest on her breasts and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders.   

George withdrew, almost all the way, then thrust back in again. He wanted to touch every spot, every nerve, every place inside her. Helen's cries of pleasure spurred him on. Finally, he felt is orgasm approaching. He didn't fight it off; he allowed it to overtake him. With a final push he let it go. Helen felt it coming, too. She gripped his manhood inside her, and held it motionless, feeling the pulsing of it and his release into her. 

He dismounted her and they lay side by side caressing, winding down. They never compared or critiqued performance or issued compliments on physical prowess. Lovemaking was not for that. There had been, and would be, many other times and other ways for them. They would use different styles and apply different emotions. Each occasion was unique. Each time, however, shared the common thread in that it was borne of their desire for one another, and its roots in their love.

"Are you sorry that you had to wait for one more night?' she asked.

"I think that you said that I would be 'impossible'," he parried the question.

"Nothing is impossible." she pronounced.

She let him ponder her declaration while they slept. They would awaken to the morning sun and many more new beginnings.

******* 

THE END

Dear Readers,

I hope that you enjoyed this follow-up on the lives of Helen and George. I always enjoy receiving your comments and questions. I hope that you will continue to send them.

Best regards,

Autumn Writer 



Renewal



Warning: This story purposefully takes many liberties with Catholicism. If this offends you please do not read this story. 

*

It was the most ridiculous of spectacles: his sweet pink mouth, plump lips, receding blond hair mixed with new pure-white tilted back, throat open to receive that long, slim phallic-symbol. His white collar and black shirt and pants seeming to be made into mockeries by this one act.

I caught him engaging in a meaningless contest to see who could get the neck of a Goldschlager bottle furthest down his or her throat. The teenagers and the adults who hang with them—because the teenagers' ages are closer to their own mental ages than their peers-were cheering him on.

He did manage to get more in his mouth than anyone else. This did not impress me as much as the others. He turned around and saw me then—everyone still laughing—a young French boy with blond hair and crystal clear blue eyes to die for takes the bottle from him. It's his turn to prove he can do something he most likely would only do if he were really drunk.

"Hi," the sweetest tone; such innocence. He excuses himself from them: not that they require or would ever bother with excuses.

I know he'll be pulled away again soon—he has too many friends here and admirers desperate to see him unguarded--figuring he might get drunk enough to let them. He's a celebrity whenever he becomes anything more than a symbol: whenever he goes beyond the bounds of his role. I fight with my roles all the time--they conflict with the fact that people change, but they are so inviting, call yourself something--I'm not sure I want roles anymore. And maybe he does to.

I did not imaging seeing him in such an intimate moment ever: let alone with an inanimate object. If I wanted to make him think about it too much I could have mentioned how the simulation undoes his commitment to not engage in an act that's socially expected—he's human and he doesn't fuck—it's subversive in a way. That's what he told me: celibacy fucks with societal norms. 

He's a person people expect to commit to things that they themselves cannot commit to. He has to be better than good so that they can believe that they can be good.

But it was with an inanimate object, when God gave us bodies with which to love and care and share pleasure: it's almost life denying. He reserved it for himself, the pleasure, the sex act. On the other hand, he cheapened the act--he ran from the truth of it even as he embraced the sensation--rejected God's gift but kissed it first.

I burned with the desire to tell him all that was on my mind: all the thoughts this one act had filled me with. But I knew I was just an observer, a confessor: observing his denial, his contradictions, his hiding and his lie. Does he need to confess to those who can hear his confession in ways that do not force it past his lips?

The small talk: "how are you? As you can see, everyone seems to be having a really good time. What would you like to drink?"

"You seemed to be having an especially good time when I saw you with that bottle." A blush and a few stumbling words falling all over each other.

And very quickly his words began to sound almost logical. I tore his argument to shreds, so he came up with new logic structures, almost seeming to explain the arguments I had just cut up with them, and almost seeming to build layers onto a strong building. But the foundation was faulty, and so were the prevailing layers. I knocked his house down like a tower of babble of lies.

He began to build again, but mid-sentence he interrupted my counter argument to excuse himself: another bunch of idolaters drunk in their objectification of him, wanting more of his humanity. Come down from that pedestal and talk to us person to person. Laugh with us, spill your humanity all over us, dress us in your humanity. Father drink the same wine we drink: unholy and bitter as our lives. Please come down—be our friend, not our Priest—some of us don't have priests anyway.

I found myself alone and I couldn't talk to these cretins. Why was I here? At least there was that company—maybe not my company, not my community and not my friends—but people to bring me out of my solitary winter. I found a card game with some who shot swift words I could at least be entertained by. Men. The women not interested in me as a friend, or a lover, or even someone to have a conversation with. The men would feel me out with their words at least: try to make me laugh. I played cards with some docile men.

He glanced my way a few times. He seemed concerned that I sat with these same men for so long. But I suppose he had not yet grown tired of this night's debauchery. I got up to fetch another drink; fetching being all I was capable of at this point.

I danced in the kitchen while I mixed rum and fruit-juice for the...something time tonight. And suddenly a sexy club song came on, and I started moving my hips to the music in my head—something I rarely do in public. But with all the booze I felt sexy—like my body was fluid and feminine—an innocent seductress. My sexual guilt was on hiatus: the alcohol coursing through my body, making me languid. I got the impression that my body was correctly proportioned to make everyone's heads turn, which is definitely is not. I lost 20 lbs just sucking my stomach in and swaying. I closed my eyes and sang, the counter top my Mistress; captivated by the things my dancing was doing to her. My breasts seemed to come alive then, the open air making them tingle. Suddenly I couldn't keep from running my fingers over them, I let them travel under the fabric of my v-neck blouse.

I heard footsteps patiently trying to retreat. I wanted to save us both the humiliation of acknowledging that their owner saw me in such an intimate moment, but I couldn't. I opened my eyes. It's him. I quickly decided not to smile from embarrassment, not to avert my eyes, but to look into him. "Hi," my careful-bold climb up from the floor to his eyes and right through.

"Hi," his equally careful-bold answer. Now we could talk, but whoever starts first would lose. And we both knew we had something to lose, but also something to gain, if we could deal with the pain of honesty. "Like what you see?" My eyes carried my voice to him: dared him to answer.

I ignored my own self-consciousness. If he denied it I'd catch him; he could see that in the smirk on my face. If he refused to answer I'd pursue it. If he stuttered, stumbled, flickered his eyelids; I'd make him pay.

"So what if I did?" He countered, "I'm still a free agent. I have the agency to chose to honor my commitments."

"Yes," my words were getting sharper and quicker, "I saw how strong you were in resisting that glass bottle: that simulated penis. Is that what your commitment to the church embodies?"

"It was not a penis!" He was angry and scared that it might be true, I could tell from the way his voice trembled. He had fallen.

"Yes it was. It might as well have been. I could see how much you wanted it to be a real cock."

"You're wrong." He was afraid. "I thought you were smarter than that. I thought you wouldn't box me into a cliché."

"That's bullshit," I shot back. I was foolish. I let him see that hurt a little. But he let me see he didn't mean to and I forgave him. Still he thought that he had the upper hand, so he held on.

"Maybe I'm even exotic to you too huh? Worship me like all the others?" Idolater. He was trying to make it seem like this is a command for a "Yes" answer, but I was standing strong.

"You know I don't look at you that way." Speaking falsely against me. My voice is calm. I wasn't begging. I was stating this as a fact that I knew he knew.

Telling him how disappointed I was at the scene earlier: how he had let me down too, though he made no promise to me, as a leader or otherwise, would humiliate him in a way that would leave me no ground on which to stand and challenge him, and I'd drank enough that I wanted to pull him under. I probably would have wanted to do that even if I were sober, though in that case I would have tried not to.

As a friend in self-control he's supposed to give me hope, as I try to give it to him. I can see neither one of us is very hopeful right now. We're both on the verge of throwing control to the wind. Can't be strong for you. Can't be a leader. Can't be a symbol. Can't be a hero. Can't save you. Can't be without sin. Why would you ever expect that from me? I'm just a woman/just a man/just dust.

"Let's get back to that cock you wanted so desperately." I recovered. I was venomous. "I know you're smart as well. You know why what you did was wrong." He did. But he wasn't giving up.

"And you—you know why it demeans you to go around seeking men's sexual attentions when it's all about your looks, and feeling yourself up; giving them what they want; letting them pretend you're made of plastic and silicone!"

"You like my plush breasts?" Only the tension was holding me back; I broke it. I took a couple of steps towards him. It took real quick thinking to grab onto that one.

"How could I help it?" He met my bet and raised, taking larger steps. "You flaunt them like a whore."

"Just like you flaunted your oral abilities?" Like a whore? We were a centimeter from touching: held back from all we had left of control and decency and belief in our own goodness.

His large warm body is against mine now. His hands rest on my wrists so lightly: his touch tentative and caring. I don't want to fight for our souls with him. I want him to touch me more and more, until there is no way we haven't touched each other. Give me a sign.

I leaned in and stole a kiss from him, crushing my lips against his—thank God for my heels, otherwise I wouldn't reach his lips—then looked directly into his eyes, daring him. What would he do? I had taken it from him, something he couldn't get back. But he just leaned in and kissed me again, gently separating my lips and inviting my tongue to entwine with his.

There was no man more beautiful than him. My fingers were unbuttoning his shirt in a frenzy. His were reaching under mine. But I swept them to the side and concentrated on kissing and licking his chest. His pink nipples were hard before I touched him, and it wasn't cold in the room. They were big for a man and I loved them. He was very sensitive to my fingers and lips. I started alternating between kissing and pinching his nipples, kissing his lips and nibbling on the side of his neck. The sounds coming out of his mouth told me he enjoyed it. With others I might have just handed him a condom and gone for a hot quick session. But I wanted to know what he felt like everywhere, how he liked to be caressed. No one had caressed him in a very long time, and maybe not ever before. So I slowly undressed him and took my time with both light and rough contact. He pushes his pelvis into me, letting me feel his erection right up against my pussy lips.

I was smashing my crystal structures against the floor with my bare: my naked hands. They were the building I had constructed out of lies that would have made such beautiful truths. He was cleaning up the blood—my unclean blood with his—that receptive, self-sacrificing mouth. Licking the wounds of the world; touch the leper; kiss the whore. Back and forth between us: Our tongues intertwining with each other, giving absolution over and over. He was showing me his sin and I was showing him my forgiveness, and vice versa forever. The conversation: I promise that God forgives you No words needed. I understand your sin, your life.

What had our wordless confessions led to? Our confessions answered with understanding, compassion and forgiveness. It was the stuff of friendship: mí amigo. A good person telling me I was ultimately good as well. A sinner telling me I was also a sinner, and mixing up notions of bad and good until they dissolved into each other. But I still had to endure the pain, no matter how compassionate he was; no matter how patient and accepting; no matter how nurturing; so why wouldn't we help each other as much as we can? No one gets through life without pain: the pain of sin; the pain of knowledge; the pain of solitude; the pain of truth and light.

I sunk to my knees. I'm just dust. And he's imago Dei, clutching the countertop. I want to show him what he's missing, and maybe he'll show me what I'm missing too. He's beautiful and I've known beauty—seen, touched and embodied it—but I have never known truth or faith. He's got a love I never had but always yearn for. He talks to God—I want to speak into and through him—I have so much to say to God but just not in words. I wrap my lips around his cock and lap up the precum: that holy-holy water. Gratitude is all I know of faith, and I am ever-so-grateful for him being here with me now. My tongue is a snake that invites his for a conversation. That conversation enriches us both.

And before my confession I had been pregnant with denial. I was nauseated with the sickness of my morning: every lie, every sin. I was swooning from the pain. His cock in my mouth was filling me with the possibility of living an honest, a full life. I began to penetrate him. My fingers were showing him that it's ok to choose tenderness: vulnerability, that connection deep from the earth. Now I was able to show him how good it is to be open, and let the pleasure surprise him. Maybe he'd open again, in other ways: to the world. Maybe I would finally do so. My heart sang as he thrust into my willing mouth and bore down on my fingers.

Then he kissed me: my unclean, profane vagina made holy again because we said it was: the sparks of God in us, now traveling between us, unselfishly given away. His tongue into my well, that place connecting my land to Goddess, through knowledge and wisdom. He caused a flood in my center and stayed there to drown with me. His love shook my temple, a miniature answer to God shaking the earth with Her anger. Take my apple/bread/blood and eat it, deep from my earth. He tore my pregnant clothe to shreds and ripped the truth from my heart.

We had to violate that last barrier. I have always been, will always be alone in some sense, but also in community with the others who stand in permanent opposition to the world. Jesus said it: Right then I loved Jesus for the first time in my life. I loved Jesus for loving him so much.

His sword was slaying his lies. He closed his eyes and charges forward. His violent grunts weren't for me: they're for his disgust with his own weakness, or for his battle against invisibility. Tears feel freely from his eyes and mine. The point where doubt and certainty: shame and love met was confusion. Our cross—that we constructed together—invited us to contrition. We didn't turn away. I matched his pace: his violence.

I fucked the vows I had almost made, and those I had made. I fucked the vows that I stated meant nothing: the word made flesh. The rabbi said it. I said it. All Israel said it: my vows are void. Fuck my vows.

Fuck my commitments made after painstaking romantic dreams led me to them. Fuck my need to be good. Fuck that amazing feeling that comes with saying the blessings on Shabbat. Fuck that I thought I could make myself love their rules: be a good little someone else, convincing myself that I wanted that. Fuck my feeble heart and mind. Fuck these dreams and fantasies. Fuck these desires. Fuck this beating heart. Fuck my lonely nights. Fuck his false modesty. Fuck it all! Fuck everything that feels real, feels permanent but is ever leaving. Fuck it hard, and fast, and raw. Fuck it without looking in its eyes. Or rather, look in its eyes, but fuck it unfeelingly.

My friend, my object, helping me pour my lies on the floor: my aborted vows, my aborted life. Start over in the desert and hope you don't run out of water, or maybe God will provide a spring? Or am I Ruth, eternally latching on to someone else's God?

You're bad our earlier accusations implied. You've sinned. You've missed the mark. You're a walking contradiction. You've taken the Lord's name in vain. You're in denial about your double standards. You want to--. So we did. So we enjoyed the Lord's gifts. We didn't die. We acknowledged and held and nursed our sins, and then we indulged in them, in fact, we made love to them.

His cross was burning into my flesh: nails digging so hard into it. The truth had left it's mark—the paradox, the two lines meeting—sin and virtue; punishment and forgiveness; denial and acknowledgment. We met each other at the cross. We merged at the intersection. We contradicted and synchronized with each other: in each other. We were the crucifix—just for that moment—then the ritual was over, and we were back in the world of the profane.

What was he going to do? What was I?

We didn't know anything right then. We were alone, so completely alone, and yet we had found a friend. One is out there, wandering in the desert, carrying my image. 



Renewal



Ashley hears the key turn. 

"Welcome home honey!" Ashley's face lit up as the door opened and Sean walked in. 

"It is so good to be home," Sean kissed her. 

"How lucky am I," Sean thought again as he looked at his wife.

She could easily pass for a thirty year old even though she was in her mid-forties. Ashley's... They were both in great shape, working out often and watching what they ate, both of them could pass for mid-thirties, though they were both close to a decade older. Ashley was 5'9" tall and weighed the same as she did in high school. She was a brunette and had yet to cut her hair short like her friends had, going to salons weekly to reinforce their "perms". Ashley's hair still hung just below her shoulders framing her long narrow face so she could easily pass as a former fashion model. Her breasts, realistically, were a bit too large for the modeling industry, but they were not overly so. In fact the "more then a handful is wasted" line was appropriate in her case for there was nothing wasted. She was a stunning woman and Sean admitted often to himself how lucky he was that she fell in love with him.

"I am in love this man." Ashely thought to herself, looking at his 6'4" frame. Just a few pounds heavier than his high school football days, Sean looked years younger than his age.

They has been married for almost twenty years, their three kids were all close to going away to college and their life together was good. Sean's company made it big in plumbing supplies and Ashley owned a popular woman's dress shop so technically neither of them needed to work. But neither of them was ready to retire.

"Kids need to understand value of hard work and the dollar," Sean always said, trying to justify why he was still working.

They were both in great shape, working out often and watching what they ate, both of them could pass for mid-thirties, though they were both close to a decade older. Sean at 6'4" allowed Ashley to wear the highest of heels without ever topping his height, they looked great together. 

"So, Sean catch" She said as she tossed a small red plastic ball to Sean, who caught it easily. "I think it time for renewal, don't you?"

"Ash, wow, I guess you're right, we have been slipping our duties and not as attentive to one another as we would like. I agree, its time for renewal!

Renewal was a promise they made shortly after Sean had proposed to Ashley. It was refined a bit in their early years and now it's a ritual that neither needed explanation for. Basically, if either of them felt that they were getting too wrapped up in their individual lives and that their relationship was one where they were beginning to take one another for granted, they could call for a "renewal". A renewal was a time where they would focus on one another, and they both agreed in the early years of their marriage, that implementing one of their fantasies would be a part of the renewal. It would force them to concentrate on each other's sexual needs and in doing so bring them back together.

Since both had their own favorite fantasies, they years ago purchased the plastic balls. Each would insert their fantasy in their ball, the two balls would be placed in a hat or bag or something then lifted above their heads and Ashley would reach in and retrieve a ball. Whosever's fantasy was in that ball would be enacted. The fantasy was required to state what if anything the each of them had to prepare, where the fantasy would take place and the duration or approximate duration of the fantasy.

They last did this about five years ago, and the fantasy selected was Ashley's. Her desire was technically not a fantasy but more of a desire. The rented a secluded cabin in the woods and were required to go naked for the three days they were there. It was a great weekend, especially the couple of times they had had sex outdoors. They both felt very free with each other and they came home renewed and rededicated to one another. Now it was time for another.

"Ok, the rules state we have 24 hours to put our selections in our balls, and then we select one of them." Do you concur, Sean?" 

Ashley smiled, as the caller of the renewal she was fairly certain what she would want, and now Sean was left with a short time to prepare. Of course knowing what to write did not assure her that her fantasy would be selected, but still Ashley felt as though she had a step up on Sean.

Sean nodded his head and took Ashley in his arms and took her up to their bedroom, the kids were gone for the night and Sean was feeling a little renewed already and he wanted to fuck some of what he saw as a smug smile off of Ashley's face. In the room Sean kissed her deeply, moving his lips to her neck and nuzzling her while his hand roamed her chest searching for and finding her breasts. They each began to fight with the others clothes rushing now to get them off and soon they were both naked in bed and Sean had migrated his lips down to her nipples and on to her pussy. He used his tongue to lick her lips open then stiffened it to penetrate her and use his tongue to fuck her.

Ashley was edging towards orgasm; Sean's talented tongue and fingers were working her pussy like a maestro works an orchestra. She knew her solo was coming and coming hard and she spasmed on Sean's face just as he began to attack her clit wit his tongue. Soon her body was gyrating and jumping, her cunt leaking fluid like a busted hose and she was moaning for Sean to put his cock in her and fuck her. Sean knew Ashley was ready and knelt between her legs. As he slid his cock into her hot wet pussy, he pulled her up in an embrace, allowing his cock to reach deeply into her. Ashley, now sitting atop Sean began to raise up and down on his cock, she loved the feeling it gave her to have his hard member sliding in and out of her and she was soon ready top explode again. It wasn't long before she felt his cock spasm inside her and his hot cum splashing of her pussy's walls that she let loose and came all over his cock.

Later, Ashley rolled over and as she lay upon Sean's chest said, "Shit if we did that a bit more often we wouldn't have the pleasure of the renewal!"

"Yeah, but I agree its needed, we don't do this enough, we are taking one another for granted, maybe its not our fault and maybe its natural, but we can try to stop it and get back to the intimacy we expect ands enjoy!"

They rested for a time then showered and finished the evening, eating dinner, picking up the kids preparing for tomorrow, before sleeping restfully.

The next evening Ashley placed her red ball in the hat, her fantasy was to go to a nude beach at a fancy resort. She liked the idea of warmth and being nude outside had excited them both in the cabin, and heck if everyone else is nude, I should be able to handle it.

Sean arrived home a few minutes later and took his red ball from his suit pocket and put it in the hat next to Ashley's.

"Well, shall we select or should we wait till after dinner and let the suspense get to us? Sean asked. 

After thinking about it for a bit, they realized the kids would be home later and this was the best time to do it without worrying about the kids asking questions. As per the rules, Sean held the hat above Ashley's head and shook it a couple of times before Ashley drew out the winning ball. Since Ashley had picked it, Sean was required to open it and read the fantasy to Ashley. Sean opened the ball and smiled.

"Ashley is to be my complete slave for three days. The fantasy will take place out of town and will include discipline any time I am disobeyed. Further this includes all time from the day of departure until they return home."

Ashley was stunned, she really had her heart set of her fantasy, she never dreamed of Sean wanting to be her Master, much less her be a slave. Still somewhat incredulous she turned to Sean and said. 

"Baby, I am a little concerned with this one."

"Ashley, our whole marriage is based on trust, we have always relied on one another and so far we seem to be doing pretty good, I ask that you give it a try and see what happens. I think it will work well for a renewal."

Ashley was not really concerned about how Sean would treat her; she was concerned because being a slave was one of her deepest secrets, and one she had never shared with anyone. She knew she had this desire but her brain told her that today's women needed to be strong, in control. She had fought this fantasy all of her adult life, and now Sean had stumbled upon it. She would go along, at least for a while, but she would watch how they both reacted and adjust if she had to.

They went into the kitchen and grabbed their plates, served themselves some food and sat together at the table. Ashley hoped she would be able to understand how far Sean was going to take this before she signed on to this.

"Sean baby," Ashley began with concern "explain how this works?" 

"Its really fairly simple actually," Sean elaborated, "you would be my slave for the duration."

"I would control everything you did, everything you wore, and everyplace you went," he continued, "You would agree to obey me or be punished."

"Can you tell me more? And what kind of punishment are we talking about, sending me to my room without my supper, or grounding me?"

"Well, I can't give you any real things but as an example I might insist you shave your vagina, or wear a revealing outfit. Of course, the basic theme of this would be sexual"

"As long as it's just you and me, I think I am fine with it. You won't force me to have sex with another man. I have no desire to do that. I'd consider just about anything but I don't want some other dick in me, I won't do that! Oh, I won't walk naked through a mall or down a city street in broad daylight either."

"Ash, don't even think it, I don't have any desire to see you with another mans cock in you, I would never consider that. You might however, in some way 'accidentally' expose yourself to someone, and you might be embarrassed but you won't be fucked by anyone but me! And I won't have you parading anywhere in just your birthday suit"

"Well, then plan it. When do we do this?"

"Well. I think I can put it together for this coming weekend, that gives me three days to set things up. I intend to take us out of town so no one we know will impede our play. It will give us freedom to do this as we like without worry that some friend will see something we don't want them to see."

"OK, Sean, I'll let the folk at my dress shop know that the boss will be out of the store --Fri thru Tues? Does that work?"

"If I can set it up, that would be perfect. You don't have to do a thing but be showered and ready sometime on Friday, I'll do everything else, including packing your bags!"

"Well be good to me, babe, at least get some help matching colors, I don't mind looking the tart, but I don't want to look like I am color blind!"

With that, they laughed and finished dinner. All this talk of the "renewal" resulted in a good night for both of them. Sean took Ashley in his arms and began to nuzzle her neck and kiss her ear lobes as they entered their bedroom. 

Ashley said, "Sean be careful the kids are home." 

Sean used his leg to close their bedroom door and flung Ashley to the bed, saying, "Get your clothes off woman, I intend to fuck you for the second time today."

Ashley, responded, "Sean I am not your slave...yet. Come here and take these clothes off me, slowly and sexily." 

Sean climbed onto the bed and with his mouth and hands slowly removed all of Ashley's clothes until she was naked and he was still fully clothed. 

"Sean, stand over there and strip for me, I want to watch!" 

Sean slowly removes his pants and shirt, then his underclothes and stood their holding his cock in his hand and said, "Babe, you want this?" 

Ashley nodded and Sean climbed into bed, slid between her legs and thrust his steely cock into her well-lubricated pussy. They fucked a bit longer being their second episode of the day, Sean using several positions before filling her pussy from behind. Well fucked they spooned together and fell fast asleep.

For the balance of the week Sean was busy making calls, arranging transportation and rooms. Investigating the area and making plans to keep them busy with their game for the three days they would be there.

Thursday morning, Sean told Ashley that she needed to be showered and ready to be dressed by noon on Friday.

Ashley sat naked at her make up table, putting the finishing touches on her face. It was five to twelve so she would be prepared for Sean when he came to dress her. She felt herself getting a bit moist as she wondered how she would be dressed, or undressed for that matter. She was looking forward to the next few days, though she was apprehensive about how she would handle her role, and if Sean would be pleased of frightened by her hidden submissive nature. She trusted her husband and that helped her keep the fear about the types of things she would have to do at bay, all she had to deal with now were her own fears, she hoped she would be able to please Sean and never have to use the safe word they agreed to. It was a word that would tell Sean that Ashley was unable to do something or that he needed to slow down. She finished the last of her makeup and Sean walked in!

"Ashley, you look delicious" Sean said as he was pulling down his zipper and freeing his cock. "Come here and show me how much you love sucking me off" Ashley came to Sean and knelt in front of him, taking his cock in her hands and enjoying the feel of it as it began to harden. She opened her mouth and allowed his cock to slide into her mouth, relishing the pressure on her jaw as it continued to lengthen. She slowly slid up and down on his staff and allowed it to slide out of her mouth and she bent lower to enjoy his balls. She managed to stuff both of them into her mouth and rolled her tongue around them causing Sean to groan and she worked. Allowing the balls to fall out she swallowed his now rigid cock and began to suck with determination. She could feel him as he began to fuck her face and she held her head still to allow him that pleasure.

"Ash, I am about to cum, I want you to take my cock out of your mouth and let me watch my cum shoot into your mouth and over your tits." 

Ashley tried to judge the timing and when she pulled him from her mouth he shot a stream of cum onto her upper lip, the second stream found it mark in her mouth and she quickly aimed his member down towards her breasts as he shoot a couple of streams of hot cum onto her chest and tits. When his cock was spent, he stepped back and reached out to help Ashley back to her feet. 

"I want you to keep the taste of me in your mouth during our trip so no beverages until I allow you. I also want my cum to dry on your tits so the smell of sex will emanate from you for the rest of the day."

"Time to get dressed baby. Here put this on" Sean handed her a black garter belt followed by a pair of shear nylons. 

She sat on the edge of the bed after sliding the garter to her waist and proceeded to pull on the very silky nylons. She had forgotten how good a soft pair of nylons could feel as opposed to the panty hose she wore. She stood as she finished and Sean stared at her looking her up and down. He then handed her a pair of black five inch high heels that she slipped into. Lastly he handed her a lightweight silk summer dress. It was cut low enough in front to provide a hint of her breasts, and it was sleeveless and the hem came long enough for a woman her age, but would still require her to be very cautious when sitting or her pussy would be on display. She looked at herself in the full-length mirror and had to admit she looked very sexy. The dress was her draping around her hips and breasts, she looked good! Other then the fact that she had no underwear on, she was fairly respectable. Considering she expected to be dressed like a whore, this was nice. She was also savoring the taste of Sean's cock, and looked forward to enjoying that taste for a while.

"Time to go to the airport, Ash, we are flying to a city on the east coast where the weather this time of year will be very mild to warm, allowing us the potential of hitting the beach, but with a city of entertainment at our disposal as well. Are you OK, comfortable in this outfit?"

"Very Sean, I feel sexy but look a lot more respectable then I expected."

As they drove to the airport Sean filled Ashley in on some of the basic rules she was to abide by on their trip.

"You will not wear any underwear at all. In fact the only time something other then a dress or skirt or blouse is on you will be if we go to the beach where you will obviously have on a bathing suit. You will remain silent unless I ask you to talk. If you feel you need to say something you will say, "Sir, may I speak?" If I say ok then you may talk. You will not wear any clothes in our suite. When we arrive in our room you are to remove everything but your stockings, garter and shoes. You will hand me the clothes and thank me for allowing you to use them. Should you forget any of these rules, or should you hesitate to obey a command, you will be punished. For each infraction, you will receive a spanking consisting of five swats to each cheek. If you disobey me more then twice before we can issue the spankings, then the third set will be five slaps to your pussy, and five to each of your breasts. This cycle will be repeated, starting with your ass, then your pussy and breasts. Lastly, your job is to provide me with sex. For this weekend your orgasms are not my concern. Nor are they yours, should you have one, great but I am not going to make sure that you do, if we are fucking, it will be in your best interest to cum, before me, because once I do, I will pull out and roll over. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir. I will do my best to make you pleased and happy."

"Good then enjoy the flight, we should be at the airport shortly and out flight should leave soon after. It's a couple hour flight but we should be checked in our suite before 6 pm. If I am not tied up spanking you we should have time for a nice meal. Do you need a drink?"

"No, I am still enjoying your taste, though it is fading. I'm looking forward to getting there and perhaps being allowed to refresh this taste of my Master's cock!"

Sean noted that Ashley forgot to ask permission to speak. She would receive at least ten swats when they arrived They still had a couple of hours, who knows, I might have sore hands before this night is over.

They entered their suite on the top floor of their oceanfront hotel shortly before six and they both explored the two-room accommodation. Shortly after looking at the ocean from their balcony, Sean said, 

"Ashley, you failed once to ask permission to speak and you have forgotten to give me your clothes upon entering our room. You need to remove your dress now and present your ass for punishment!"

"But. Sean, I forgot, you can't be serious," She said as she removed her dress and handed it to Sean.

Sean waited a few moments then said, "That's your third infraction, Ash, you forgot to thank me for allowing you to wear the clothes. Looks like your pussy and tits are also in for a warming"

Ashley stared at Sean, disbelief covered her face as she watched Sean sit on the end of the bed and pat his lap.

"Ashley, come here and lay across my lap and let me administer your punishment. You don't want your hesitation to earn you any more tonight do you?"

Ashley quickly came to Sean and folded herself over his lap. Because of her height and her heels, her ass was a good target in this position. Sean quickly swatted her left ass cheek and the sting caused her to jump and utter a soft scream. Before she could react she felt his hand repeat the action on her right cheek, by the time he'd swatted each cheek five times, her ass cheeks were reddening nicely and although it was somewhat painful Ashley was surprised at how she was getting wetter and wetter between her legs. By the time all ten had been awarded each cheek, Ashley allowed a moan to escape and she knew she was excited. Sean pulled her to her feet and stood her in front of him and he immediately began to strike her breasts. Ashley, in a daze from the attack to her ass, jumped when his hand slapped her right breast and the sting traveled right to her clit, stoking the fires ignited when her ass was spanked, by the time Sean began his assault on her pussy, Ashley was on the verge of orgasm, and if Sean had slapped her clit one more time she knew she would have had a massive orgasm. As it was, Sean stopped after the allotted punishment had been meted out and said, 




Renewal



"I'm hungry, lets order room service! Oh, And by the way, Ash, no touching your self, remember, it's my orgasm that counts not yours and your actions were responsible for this delay to our meal."

They ate a wonderful meal and pushed to cart back into the hall around 10:30 at which time Sean said, 

"Time for bed Ash, do you need to us the bathroom?" 

Ashley nodded and went into their shared bath and moved to close the door. 

"No closed doors in fact I want to watch you pee." 

She was blown away; she had never peed in front of anyone since she completed her toilet training as a three year old. Fortunately, nature won out and Ashley loosed a strong stream into the bowl.

When Ashley returned to the room she asked Sean, 

"Sir, may I remove my shoes, stockings and garter?" 

Sean nodded and Ashley then said, " Thank you Sir, for allowing me to wear these.

As they got into bed, Sean said "OK, Ash, I want you to sit on my cock and fuck me and remember if you want an orgasm, you'll need to do so before I cum"

Ashley saw that Sean's cock was as hard as it was the first time they made love and she positioned herself above it and slid down, impaling his hard shaft deep into her very wet cunt. Oh god, that felt wonderful, Sean's cock reached the depths of her pussy and she was enjoying the pleasure. Then she slowly rose up and allowed herself to slide down again and as she repeated this action she began to speed up. She could not remember the last time she was this aware of how good Sean's cock felt inside her. She was going faster and faster feeling her orgasm begin to form, it would not be long now. She was fucking Sean, taking his cock deeper and deeper into her hot wet cunt- and then she felt Sean's cock erupt and spew his cum deep inside her. Suddenly she felt Sean's hand on her hip pulling her off his cock and rolling over. She was ready to scream at him, she only needed another few strokes, and she knew she would have erupted in a massive orgasm if he had just stayed inside her for another thrust or two. She was about to voice these thought when Sean said" Hey, I told you this was my weekend; you are here to serve me, to make me cum. You need to allow yourself to cum easier if you expect to get off this weekend. Oh and by the way, you are not allowed to finish your self off either. Now slide over here and lets get some sleep you have a busy day ahead of you tomorrow, you'll want your beauty sleep"

With that Sean enveloped Ashley in his arms, by doing so he made it impossible for her to find a way to satisfy herself...After stewing about it for a short while, she fell asleep, curious about what Sean had in store for her tomorrow.

Sean was awakened the next morning with a warm sensation on his cock. He looked down and saw that Ashley was sucking him, taking him deep into her mouth and then releasing him and using her tongue to lick his cock and balls. 

"Ashley, thanks for the wake up, what's happening?" 

Ashley used her hands to replace her mouth and continued to stroke Sean's now hard cock as she responded,

" Well, Sir, if I may say soinitially I was very disappointed last night because I did not get the chance to cum. I was still thinking about that this morning and realized you were right, this is your time; if I can't cum while we are fucking then I just don't get to cum. Then I remembered that your cock was still covered with our cum from last night and I thought I would clean you up a little! Is that OK?"

"Ash, that's wonderful, but we have an things to do this morning, so while I order room service finish sucking my dick."

Later, after finishing their breakfast Sean handed Ashley another set of shoes, garter and stocking, this time in red and then handed her a red skirt and thin white blouse. Before she was allowed to dress, Sean called Ashley to him and 

"I have some jewelry for you to wear, they go on your nipples and will help to keep them hard all day." 

Sean then produced two star shaped discs about an inch and a half in diameter. There were holes in the center of the disc, and once the nipple was placed in the hole the star points folded down around the top of the breast and the hole shrank in size putting pressure on the nipple and pushing it up and out. Once he was done, the discs blended in nicely with her skin and her nipples were fully extended. In combination with the thin white blouse, it was clear that Ashley wore no bra, as her nipples were clearly defined. The skirt was short like the dress yesterday and again would make sitting a challenge for her.

They left the hotel in their rental car and Sean drove to the outskirts of town, pulling into an Adult Superstore. I t was in what looked like a former supermarket and it advertised a complete supply of adult entertainment and toys. Ashley had never been in an adult store before and was concerned that her dress would create a stir amongst what she imagined were a group of perverts in the store. She almost refused to get out and go in, but relented when she once again realized she trusted her husband and knew he would take care, that she was all right.

Once inside, Ashley was astonished, the place was clean and well lit, the employees were clean and washed and the few other clients looked no better or worse then she and Sean. She was relieved and followed Sean as he walked straight to a desk in the back of the store. After introducing himself to the employee they were asked to enter a room in the back of the store. Ashley froze; it was a photo studio.

"We are going to take some photos today, create an album of our stay here. I want you to do what Missy the photographer says without complaint and look your best, OK? This is a private room so only Missy, you and I will ever know what is going on and once she is done, Missy will give us the prints and the memory card so only we will have a copy of them."

Sean's words eased her tensions and she was soon doing her best to obey the requests of Missy and Sean. They started with photos in her current outfit, with some up skirt or down blouse shots, and then she gradually lost her clothes to be sometimes replaced with other outfits, but always wearing the red high heels and stockings Sean had presented to her this morning. There were a few posed shots with Sean, her bending over his legs while he spanked her ass, one where she was on her knees on the floor and Sean was whipping her ass with a flogger or swatting it with a paddle. Not long enough to get her off but enough to get her horny and wet. The shots were taken from the front and back, to get the reddening of her ass, the expression on her face and see the movement of her tits. The whole session lasted close to an hour. As they finished, Sean instructed her to put her clothing back on and to sit with Missy and select shots for the album. While they were doing that Sean returned to the outer store to make some purchases. A half and hour later Sean returned to the studio and Ashley held an album and a memory stick in her hands and gave them to Sean.

" Sir, I think you will like the a the album, Missy took some great photos"

"With you as the subject, it has to be great. Lets get some lunch then we need to get back to our room and prepare you!"

"Sir, may I ask what I am being prepared for?"

"You may ask, but it's a surprise and I won't tell you"

They had a nice lunch in an outdoor café and Ashley completely forgot about how short her skirt was until she happened to look up and saw three college guys obviously staring beneath her table, she quickly remembered what she was wearing but elected to keep her legs open and ignore the young men. Perhaps, she thought they would go back to their girlfriends and give them a passionate night after staring at her pussy today. At any rate their attention also had Ashley getting wet and while she enjoyed the fact she could still attract young men, she could not do anything to satisfy herself while they were here. Her breasts were also contributing to the mounting excitement as the nipple devices were in constant contact, never letting her nipples relax. They were hard and extended, and her pussy was getting wetter and wetter.

Soon they were back in the room and she immediately removed all but her shoes, garter and stockings and thanked Sean.

"Thank you sir for the use of these clothes today, and thank you for such a wonderful book of photos, I hope we both can enjoy them"

"Ok, you r welcome Ash, lets remove the nipple jewelry, I don't want to cause any permanent damage to your breasts." 

Ashley visibly jerked as Sean removed the two star shaped objects, the intensity of the blood flow back to her nipples made her dizzy and her already wet pussy was now throbbing for release. 

"Now I want you to go to the bedroom and kneel on the bed with your face to the mattress and wait for me." 

Ashley did as instructed but as she waited for Sean's arrival, she was again feeling the stirrings between her legs. This weekend's concentration on sex was having its effect on her, even if she was the slave she was certainly finding enough to turn her on!

"OK, today we are going to prepare your ass for fucking. I know we have tried in the past and failed but I have been reading up and think I know how to make it right for you. Even though you are my slave, you have every right to stop me now or at any time during the process. OK?"

"Sean, I mean Sir, I am in your hands and willing to try. I will do my best"

"OK we will start by cleaning you out, I have an enema bag filled with a cleaning solution and am about to administer it to you." "Yes, Sir"

Once that was completed Sean said, "Everything I have read says to do this right there is no such thing as too much lubrication. So I am going to be very liberal in loading your ass, these toys and my cock with lube."

Once Sean was satisfied that she was well lubricated he slid a small butt plug into her ass. It went in surprisingly easy and Sean decided to remove it and use the larger one. 

"I am trying to loosen up this entrance by inserting a series of gradually larger butt plugs, the first went in without any reaction from you so I am moving to the second" 

As he worked this plug in he heard Ashley grunting and saw her hands balling into fists grabbing the bedcovers. Finally it was in and Sean told her to relax and breath. Once she was a little more comfortable, Sean helped her off the bed and walked her out to the balcony, he felt Ashley hesitate, 

"No one is going to look up here, we are alone." 

With that he wrapped her in his arms and began to kiss her. Ashley responded and kissed him back. They spent a while on the balcony "making out like teenagers and sometime later Sean asked her how the plug felt in her ass.

"I feel full. Deliciously so and there is no pain. Is it time to put in the last one?"

"Yes, and we are going to add some more lube too"

Once back on the bed, she presented her ass to Sean and he worked the plug out. He heard her breathe in sharply and the plug was removed, and he and proceeded to lubricate her ass and back channel again. Once finished he worked the largest of the butt plugs into her ass. 

"Aw shit, baby that's a big one, oh go slowly, yeah, ugh, ok keep going." 

Sean was amazed at how well her ass accepted the last plug, and he lay down next to her and started making out again. He spent time caressing her tits then lightly pulled and bit on her nipples. He then moved down and began to use his tongue on her pussy. Ashley was soon boiling hot, her ass was full, and her pussy was being eaten, she felt great. Then she felt Sean start to work on the butt plug while he continued to use his magical tongue on her clit and pussy lips. She was in heaven and felt a small orgasm take hold as the plug was completely removed. She once again felt the cool touch of the lubrication and then Sean's tongue left her and she felt him stand.

Sean went over and sat in the wing backed chair in their room and said

"I want you to come over here and I want you to lower your ass onto my cock, this way you will control penetration and can stop if its too painful."

Ashley came to the chair and turned so her back was towards Sean. As she slowly lowed her self to "sit" on his cock, she used her hands to separate her ass cheeks. Sean held his cock and aimed it at her approaching rosebud. 

Ashley felt the tip of his cock nestling up to her rear entrance and she slowly forced her ass down further, the head of his cock straining to pierce her sphincter and penetrate her ass. Ever so slowly she went lower and lower until the head of his cock slipped through the outer ring of her ass. Once again she felt pressure but the pain was mild, almost non-existent. In fact now that his cock was partially inside of her she was eager to try for the rest of it and lowered her ass down further and further until she found herself sitting on Sean's lap, his cock completely buried in her ass. She was amazed at how easy this had been as she recalled their previous painful failures. She was immensely turned on by the feeling of Sean's cock in her ass. She never expected to feel this good, the only problem was that her legs were too weak to push herself up and use her ass to fuck Sean's rock hard cock.

"Ashley, I gather everything is good?"

"Oh god, yes Sean, its great, the feeling of your cock being buried in my ass is truly wonderful"

"Can you use your ass to fuck me or would you rather I reversed us and fucked you?"

"If you can, I think it would be best for you to fuck me, I'm not sure I have the energy to sustain and up down movement."

"Ok, hold on." 

Sean placed his arm around Ashley's upper body and his other hand grabbed the area between her legs, his fingers buried in her wet pussy, as he slowly stood up, Ashley being raised while suspended on his cock, driving it a little further into her ass. 

"Oh god Sean, go easy."

Slowly Sean walked them to the bed and lowered Ashley to her knees on the bed, never removing his cock from her ass. He slowly began to pull his buried cock out and just before it came out, slid it back in again. As he repeated this process he could hear Ashley mumbling into the sheets.

"Awwww fuck me, Sean ffffuuuuckkkkkk myyy yassssss" 

She kept repeating that over and over as Sean's momentum increased. He was now pounding her ass and she was pounding her hips back into him meeting him thrust for thrust. Her ass was milking his cock and he knew he was going to cum soon, after another pump he began to fill her ass with cum.

Ashley felt Sean's cock jerk inside her and his cum erupt in her ass and she exploded in an orgasm of her own. So intense were their orgasms that Sean fell asleep across Ashley's back as his shrinking cock slid, along with gobs of cum from her satisfied asshole.

Sometime later they ordered room service, showered, ate diner and fell back asleep exhausted, not waking again until morning.

The next morning Ashley woke to find Sean looking through the photo Album they made yesterday. She sat up in bed and moved closer to him looking at the photos as he turned the pages. She was impressed with the work of the photographer, it was a perfectly professional job, and she was sure she never looked that good in person. When Sean reached the "discipline group of photos" Ashley could feel her body starting to awaken and felt a slow stirring between her legs, as she glanced down she noticed her nipples were at attention as well.

"Ashley, I think it best we do another quick enema on you, I used quite a bit of lube last night and I would like to make sure its all washed out, so get in position."

This time she eagerly moved into position, and surprised herself when she did. As Sean slid the nozzle into her ass, she felt those stirrings increase in intensity and wondered if the act of getting an enema was turning her on, or if it was just Sean inserting things into well-fucked asshole. At any rate the process was accomplished and then both of them showered together. After drying herself off, she stood naked waiting for instructions from Sean. Soon after finishing his coffee and breakfast, he took her hand and led her to the balcony of their room overlooking the ocean. It was a little after 11 and the beach below was starting to populate itself with bathers. When Sean opened the sliding glass door and led her outside, she resisted his pull and said.

"Sir, we are naked and there are people down there"

Sean smiled and said, 

"Ash, you forgot to ask to speak, so you have earned a red ass, and I know there are people down there, but just like I told you last night its unlikely any of them are going to look up here and as long as we are quiet, we should be ok. Now that I have to administer ten good ones to your lovely ass, it will be your doing if you scream or moan loudly and direct their attention to this floor"

Ashley was humiliated, Sean was, not only making her go outside without any clothes again, her pussy and tits open to the public he was now going to discipline her out here as well. As he positioned her hands on the rail of the balcony and brought her feet away from the rail, she found herself bent over and her backside in position. Before she could think to react, Sean's hand came down hard on her left cheek. It sounded like a cannon going off and she looked quickly at the beach to see if anyone was looking. She soon realized that no one heard it and she began to relax until he brought his hand down again on her other cheek. She could not help it, she emitted a low pitched moan and as his hand repeated the process on each cheek the proscribed number of times, she became lost in her growing orgasm. When Sean was finished, he stepped behind her and slid his rock hard cock deep into her in one quick motion. That motion sent Ashley over the top as her orgasm peaked, then settled and then peaked again and again as he continued to pound into her, ravaging her pussy and causing her to never stop cuming and cuming. Sometime soon, although she can't say when, Sean erupted and filled her with his hot cum, and as he withdrew from her she whimpered and sank down to the floor and allowed the final throws of her orgasm to work its way through her body.

Some time later Sean appeared back on the balcony and scooped Ashley up in his arms and took her to the bed. Giving her a cold glass of cola, she revived and smiled at Sean and said,

"That was as intense a fucking as I have ever had, probably more so, thank you Sir. I'm coming back to life now, how may I serve you Sir?"

"We are going to the beach for a few hours before dinner. I have a suit for you but I also have toys for you. I have this little toy that I will insert into your pussy and another to insert into you ass. They both have a vibrating egg inside, controlled by a remote transmitter. Your bathing suit bottom will help keep them in and they are both water proof." 

With that Sean had her spread her legs as he inserted the first one in her pussy and then with some lube her inserted the second one into her ass. As he tested the remote control, Ashley jumped as the vibrations startled her; she was amazed at how powerful they were.

"That was a little test at the lowest power level. You will need to be aware that I can and will turn this on, in one or both of your holes as I see fit. If you jump again like that the other beachgoers are going to wonder about you."

Good golly she thought to herself, she could not imagine how she might react to the more powerful levels, she was concerned that everyone would know what was happening and she blushed at the thought of how her body might betray her in public.

They found a nice spot in the crowd, it was obvious that Sean did not want them to be off on their own and after applying liberal amounts of sunscreen and getting over her amazement at how respectable her suit was she settled in to get some sun. She felt herself drifting lazily enjoying the warmth of the sun when she first heard a low hum and then felt a vibration in her ass. She tried to remain still as the level slowly rose, but found that her body was indeed betraying her, she could not stop the throaty moan from escaping her lips. The one in her pussy soon joined the vibration in her ass and the two together were causing her pussy to get wetter and wetter, in fact she could feel moisture working its way through her suit and down the crack of her ass. She tried to ignore it, and failed, she tried to stifle it, and failed, she was breathing hard now and her hips were starting to move back and forth and she knew she was going to orgasm right here on the beach in front of all of these people. 




Renewal



Suddenly the vibrations stopped. She was left dangling on the edge of an abyss, her body was about to plunge into a fantastic orgasm, and then everything stopped. Shit, she said to herself, it's not as if I can reach down and shove my hand in my pants and finish this. 

She realized had no control. She simply lay there and tried to erase to feelings and settle down, but just as she felt somewhat back to normal, the buzzing and vibrations came back with abandon, much more forceful then before. Without the time to catch herself she yelled,

"OH, God yes!"

She realized what she had screamed out but ultimately decided that she did not know these people and they did not know her, mentally she said "fuck it" and she let herself go and enjoyed the vibrations and the impending orgasm. She went with the flow and she knew that she was "on display," she also knew that her husband wanted this and she wanted him to have it. She managed to keep from screaming again as her orgasm hit, but anyone who ever had sex and was within earshot knew what was happening to her. Her orgasm was long and wonderful and as she came back down to earth, she glanced at Sean and saw the biggest grin on his face. She smiled back at him and then drifted off to sleep.

When Sean woke her later most of the people had left and as the walked back to the hotel Sean said

"You were amazing out there, just about everyone near us ended up staring at you. Some shook their heads and others grinned. I was proud of you for not only letting it happen, but for allowing yourself to enjoy it as well."

"I realized that none of these people mean as much to me as you do, and that we don't know them and once we go home we will likely never see any of them again, so I just decided to enjoy the gift you gave me and to hell with everyone else."

The both laughed and went to their room the shower and dress for the night. Once again Sean provided Ashley with her clothing for the night. Tonight she would wear a pair of white five-inch heels, white thigh high hose and a white lace dress that left nothing to the imagination. The lace was substantial enough to cover her breasts, but both sides of the dress were open and held together with a white cord that resembled a shoe lace that went from the bottom of the arm hole to the hem of the dress. The front was again scooped low showing a bit more of her breasts then anything she had worn on this trip. She noticed that if she bent over at all, anyone taller then her would have an unobstructed view of her breasts, including her nipples, which for some reason have refused to retract and remained hard and erect. Certainly their waitperson at dinner would be getting an eyeful whenever they came to the table. And with the opening at the sides she would be exposed as well if she were to reach for anything, like a drink at the bar. She smiled to herself as they left the hotel and drove off for their evening's fun. Ashley was in the same frame of mind as on the beach, she felt good, she knew no one, no one knew her, so fuck it, she was going to do her best to enjoy whatever Sean provided tonight. She also had to admit to herself that, at least how Sean was working it, she was enjoying being submissive, and it seemed Sean enjoyed controlling her.

They pulled in to a brightly lit area into what looked like a nightclub of some sort. As they walked towards the building Ashley read a sign that indicated this was a "Gentleman's Club" and that couples were welcome. She did not realize that this was a nude strip club until they had paid their cover and were walking into the club.

"Sir, may I speak?"

"Yes, Ash, go ahead."

"This isn't one of those places that has an amateur night or something? Am I going to have to strip in this crowd?"

"No, there is no amateur stripping in here tonight, we are actually going to eat dinner have a few drinks and assess the entertainment. I presume you are not disappointed about not performing here?"

"Yes, I mean no, I mean if you had wanted I would have tried, because I have enjoyed everything you have had us do, but it isn't something on my to do list!" 

Ashley was somewhat disappointed though she would never admit it to anyone, she was a closet exhibitionist, and with the photo session, the daring outfits and now this visit to a strip club she was pleased, but had to admit she would have probably willingly accepted the offer to strip for a room full of people. She did not know if she would have done it, but it was something to think about.

"Well, here is our table, lets enjoy. Besides with the outfit I put you in this evening, you will be giving a show every time you stand. If you did not notice the lights in here make your dress look very sheer. You missed the looks of the guys standing at the bar as we walked past, I thought their eyes were going to come out of their heads!"

Ashley shrugged her shoulders and looked at the stage where a couple of very beautiful women were dancing nude, swinging from time to time on the pole. After eating a surprisingly good meal, they settled back with drinks and watched the show. From time to time Sean would give Ashley a handful of five-dollar bills and have her walk to the stage to tip the dancers. The first few times she was tentative, but by the third time she was enjoying it as the dancers would dance up to her and rub their tits in her face and have her put the money between her lips and they would squeeze their tits together to grab the money or lean in and kiss the money form her lips.

Later Sean asked her, " Pick out a woman you like, one whose body and face you think is attractive, and ask her to come to our table. Hand her this twenty when you ask, and tell her we would like to buy her a drink"

For most of the night the girls had approached the table but Sean turned them all down, slipping them some money and thanking them telling them maybe later. Ashley went to the stage when this tall red head with a great body, probably one of the older dancers, but a woman who knew how to work the crowd. He saw her lean in to tell the dancer something and then slip the twenty between the girl's legs, who closed them on her fingertips, smiled and blew her a kiss.

Soon after Ashley returned to the table, the dancer came buy and introduced herself as Star, she sat between them and engaged in conversation. After the required hello and how are you, Sean asked her what added entertainment was available. The dancer replied that they could get a one song table dance for $20, could go to a secluded area for a two song private dance for $30, or they could rent a private room for $100 an hour plus $100 for the dancer. Once in the room the dancer was on her own as to the entertainment. There were always bouncers close at hand if someone got too assertive she said, but by and large as long as they only did what the dancer allowed, they would not be disturbed.

Sean nodded, looked at Ashley and said

"OK, lets rent the room for two hours, and you for two hours." 

He handed her $400 and she escorted them to the back of the club and into a small room, closing and locking the door behind her. There was a couch and a dancers pole in the room and everything was red and dimly lit. 

"I won't have sex with anyone, and I won't suck them off either. The basic entertainment is I dance for you, I can touch you wherever and whenever I want and you can only touch me when and if and where I say. Are you ok with that?"

Sean nodded and indicated OK. She began to dance, giving both Sean and Ashley lap dances, doing her best to turn them on often rubbing her tits in their faces or rubbing her crotch into their crotch. All in all it was fairly boring. At one point Ashley asked if she could go to the bathroom and Star indicated a door at the back of the room. When Ashley went out, Sean asked the dancer

"How much for you to touch my wife everywhere perhaps lead her towards orgasm? Take her dress off play with her tits and pussy? But not let her cum!"

"How long?"

"For the last hour?"

"$500!"

Sean handed her the money and soon Ashley came back and sat next to Sean on the couch. Star reached down and grabbed her hands and "danced" Ashley up out of her seat. She rubbed her naked body against Ashley to the music and slowly used her hands to feel Ashley's body, traveling over her breasts and down across her ass. Ashley was stunned but since Sean had not objected he must have set this up, so she would try to go along. Sean could see Ashley's initial reluctance melting away as Star reached down and pulled Ashley's dress up and over her head. That quickly she was naked and Star embraced her and they continued to dance. She directed Ashley back to the couch and parted Ashley's legs and knelt between them. Ashley felt herself getting wet and she was unsure if it was that a woman was touching her, or because she was being fondled in front of her husband. Star used one hand to stroke Ashley's pussy and used her other to caress her tits. It was clear that she was turning his wife on, getting her hot, he could hear her breathing become deeper, uneven and he was enjoying the action. He nodded to the dancer and indicated she should stop and Star slowly stopped her ministrations and got up. She thanked the couple for their business and asked if they ever came back to please see her. Then she walked out. Sean looked at his wife who sat there, naked stunned that it had all stopped. Sean said,

"Time for us to be going we have an early flight tomorrow. Are you going to walk butt naked or do you want this dress back?"

Ashley took the dress and quickly slipped it on and walked out of the club with her husband. All during the ride back to the hotel Ashley worked the night over in her mind. She could not be sure why she was so wet at the club, she hoped it was because of what she was doing in front of her husband and not that she was attracted to the dancer.

Back at the hotel Sean again embraced Ashley and thanked her for the night. Ashley, naked of course having handed Sean her clothing at the door, embraced him back and soon they were kissing. She helped Sean out of his clothes and when they were both naked, she led Sean to the balcony and leaned over the rail with her ass extended and said,

"Sir, would you fuck me from behind. Will you put you rock hard cock in my pussy and let me fuck your cock with my pussy?" 

Sean slid his cock onto her pussy and Ashley proceeded to rock back onto his cock and forward again. Her rhythm was slow and determined and she used her pussy muscles to squeeze Sean's cock and soon had him cuming. Having learned to make sure she got hers, she erupted into orgasm when she felt his cum shooting in side of her. 

The next day they flew home and on the flight Ashley again was wrestling with her feelings. She knew she enjoyed the weekend, that Sean was the perfect Master, never pushing her too far, but pushing none-the-less. She was more concerned because she had yet to determine her feeling for the dancer. She never thought she was Bi-sexual, but she knew she was turned on and disappointed when they left before she could cum. 

They were swept up in their lives when they returned home, they found time to make sure they were now reunited in their passion, but it would be a week or more before Ashley could summon the courage to talk to Sean about her feelings. It seemed that when she felt it was the right time, the kids or other friends or family showed up. Finally on the Friday night a week and a half after they returned she and Sean were alone at home.

"Sean can we talk a bit about our "renewal" trip?"

"Sure, Ash, is everything ok?"

"I think so, I just wanted to say a few things and see how you feel about something I want"

"Well I can't tell you that unless you tell me what you want!"

Ashley was doing her best to work up the courage to reveal her hidden desires to Sean. She knew he loved her and his actions on their trip indicated he would be ok, but it was hard for her to actually talk to him about this subject that for so long she had kept buried. She knelt on the carpet in front of him and began.

"Sean, I never told you, but I have, for as long as I can remember, had a reoccurring desire to be submissive. When you revealed the fantasy for our renewal trip it was somewhat frightening to me to have to now publicly perhaps reveal this long held secret to you"

"Ashley..."

"No., please let me finish, it's taken me so long to be able to talk about this and I want to get it all out. The short story is I want to be your submissive permanently, at all times. I also want you to be um, more Masterful, more demanding. I enjoyed the game we played at the beach, but now I want this to be real, I want to serve you; I want to be totally responsible to your cock and your every desire. It is not easy for me to ask because as a modern woman I always thought I needed to be strong and being a true submissive seemed to be the opposite. I think I know now that the two are not opposite but can be the same. So if you will consent to be my Master, I have some more things and requests for you."

"The short answer, yes, I would love to establish this type of relationship for two reasons, one I did enjoy myself and two, I love you so much I can not refuse anything you want."

"Well that's good because I do want some things incorporated in this but first I have some gifts for us"

With that she handed Sean a small box, which he opened to reveal a gold collar with his name engraved in it.

"Sean I want to wear that always as an outward sign of my submission to you and your ownership of me. I would be pleased if you would put it on me now."

Sean placed the collar around her neck, facing the engraving toward the front and hooked the clasp to the back. It looked stunning on her and to the naked eye it would look like almost any other necklace. Only buy close examination could your read the smaller words "possession of" just above his name.

Then she handed Sean a larger, oblong shaped box which when opened contained a black leather whip. It was about three feet in length and the handle was wrapped in red leather and the other end was a gathering of twenty or so strips of leather.

"Sean, I love it when you spank me with your hands, but when we did the photo shoot I almost had an instant orgasm when we used this kind of whip in those discipline shots, in fact whenever I look at those photos, I get very wet when I look at that grouping. I want you to use that on my ass, tits or pussy as you see fit. OK?"

"Yes, babe. Is that all?"

"No, there is one other thing and this may be the spot where you object, and if you do, I will accept your decision but I will want to plead my case before you make it final, OK?"

"Sure, what is it you want?"

"I want us from time to time, not always, maybe only once or twice a year, I want you to find me a woman, or let me find one for us."

"I am..."

"Let me finish. I know you want us to be alone and I treasure that, but when Star, the girl in the strip club got me naked and stroked me it was one of the hottest moments of my life, next to you of course. I know we agreed that there would never be another guy, and I still would never want that, so if its just you thinking about fairness, another girl for you another guy for me, that isn't the case. I want to experience what you experience when you go down on me, I want to feel another woman going after my pussy, and I want to watch your cock bury itself in her pussy and then I want to lick your cum from her. Ok, please, talk to me tell, me what you think?

'Ashley, well lets start at the beginning. First of all you know I will gladly be your master, and if you will help me learn the job I will do my best to push your limits as my submissive. I am willing to try the other woman at least once. If all seems to go well, then we can talk about doing it again. However, if we truly want our marriage to work, all of this has to happen between us, you can not go with a woman with out me, it has to be together and if I find you are slipping behind my back it could ruin us."

"Sean, I have no intention of that, nor do I want us to ever have a "regular" woman. I was thinking about when we traveled like n our trip, don't you think money would have allowed us to have Star if we wanted?"

"Ok, lets go forward, is there anything else?"

"Yes, but it's relatively small. I am going to make Sybil, at my Dress shop, the manager and I am not going to spend as much time there as I have. I want my time available to serve you, to be able to travel with you on business meetings or whatever. Also, I have decided to convert one of the rooms in the shop to clothing like what you gave me to wear on our trip, I believe that there are other women in this city who would be looking for this kind of clothing and I felt it would be a good way of making sure my closet was full of dresses of that nature. I also donated all of my bras and panties to Goodwill, as I will no longer need them. So that ok, Master?"

"Well, yes it is, however you seem to have made a few decisions without my consent" Sean said as he picked up the whip, 

"I believe you had best get to the bedroom and prepare yourself for a punishment session!"

Ashley fled up the stairs, dropping her clothes as she went, she knew her life was headed in a direction she had once though impossible, but now thanks to the luck of the renewal balls, she was going to live her dream, starting with a red ass tonight.



Renewal



The Brew House was seething with costumed customers, flickering pumpkins, and the drone of the Crypt Kicker Five barely audible over the babbling din. Ed refilled his draft and gazed over the myriad of personalities while absently brushing pretzel crumbs from the front of his oversized black shirt with the words "Official Halloween Costume" stenciled across his chest. The crowds all but obscured the piercing glare that had followed him unblinkingly since he entered several hours earlier.

A bar stool opened and Ed slid into it quickly, cradling his brew gingerly. The pale white figure adorned in silky black slid next to him effortlessly and signaled the bartender for a refill on her Bloody Mary. Her musky perfume slowly overwhelmed Ed's senses until he turned to gaze upon the gothic face whose eyes had been locked on him all night. 

"Nice threads," Ed observed with his eyebrows raised.

She reached up to his crotch and fondled the bulge she found there gently. Ed closed his legs quickly, stunned by her forward approach.

"Nice equipment," she crooned seductively, never lowering her gaze.

"Works for me," he quipped as he noticed the flawless alabaster leg slid from the smooth folds of her gown.

"Hasn't been used for awhile has it," she queried in a seductive growl.

Ed turned from her slowly and turned his gaze back to the milling crowd, his mind clouded by the brew, and the imposing figure that seemed obsessed with his sexuality. With a dismissing nod he rose swiftly. This was getting too weird even for Halloween, Ed thought to himself. With the door just a few paces away, he set his empty mug on bar and made for the comfort of his apartment. As the door closed noisily behind him he stared into the dark void of a jet black Mercedes with an alabaster leg dangling seductively out of the dark interior onto the wet pavement.

"Leaving alone," the gothic beauty queried?

"How did you get out here so damn fast?"

A sensuous, almost delicate hand with long, blood red nails emerged from the darkness with a come hither gesture.

"Don't be shy; come, share your seed with me."

"I don't think . . ." Ed's voice trailed into and inaudible whisper, as he felt his body being inexplicable drawn towards the darkness of the idling car. His thoughts suddenly became flooded with symphony of erotic images, beautiful breasts, and warm dripping virgin pussies. His groin warmed and surged into fullness, as the door closed behind him and his mysterious host roared and weaved through the traffic onto the interstate. She drove like a possessed banshee into the darkness, beyond where Ed had ever traveled, onto a dark overgrown trail and into the depths of a scraggly wood where a small cabin with a large bed awaited. In a drunken haze, Ed staggered through the threshold and into her dimly lit lair, where he was pummeled by musty odors.

She suddenly appeared before him, disrobing slowly and efficiently, as the throbbing in his loins reached a deafening crescendo. Once fully naked, she turned slowly on her delicate feet, revealing a pristine, glowing beauty that eclipsed the timeless icons of femininity. Her flowing shiny crown of hair trailing to the firm rounding of her bottom only highlighted her smooth, sensuous curves – her flowing neck, firm upright breasts crowned with tiny cherries, gentle curving hips and thighs that supported legs that went on forever. The tiniest fluff of dark curly hair crowned the moist, tight lips guarding her deepest treasure. Her eyes, dark as midnight, glowed with desire as Ed stumbled backwards onto the bed, mesmerized by the goddess before him.

A cynical smile creased her full, blood red lips as she leisurely removed his sweaty attire. As his BVD's slid from his ankles, her passionate kisses covered his fully exposed body, drawing his trembling skin past her sharp teeth that occasionally nipped his oversensitive flesh. Ed moaned and writhed shamelessly as she devoured him, his groin throbbing painfully as his mind fought to gain some semblance of sanity.  His mind and body in sensory overload, he trembled uncontrollably, as her skillful administrations quickly brought his seed to a boil. Straddling him eagerly, she guided him into the warm silky tightness of her essence, descending slowly while savoring the firm penetration that only a male member could provide. She brought his trembling hands to her hardened nipples, holding them firmly to the soft globes as the muscles within her slowly and persistently coaxed his seed from within. 

With an agonizing groan, he lost his remaining elements of control and erupted deep into the warm silky womb caressing the sensitive crown of his masculinity. His boiling essence flooded her and bathed the head of his cock, stimulating him into a hitherto unknown realm of ecstasy. She groaned contentedly, as he continued to fill her with the delicious essence that would assure her youthful appearance for yet another year. Ed's hips continued to buck spasmodically, as his captor laughed with her successful fulfillment before fading slowly into a shadows on the dimly lit wall.  As his chafed cock continued to pump his seed into the still empty air, the cabin gradually disappeared around him until, with a gentle thud, the bed disappeared, and he was left on a bed of decaying leaves with his clothes strewn around him haphazardly.  

On a lonely, one lane logging road, Ed was found wandering aimlessly among the tall pines. After a barrage of unanswered questions, and a myriad of mental tests, he was committed to a local institution where the label of "the living dead" seemed to apply uniquely to his particular case despite his perpetual smile. He sits for hours on his neatly prepared bed, while visions of ecstasy swim through his senses and the hope of her reappearance when the leaves fall again keep him at peace with his world. 



Renewal



Thanks to estragon, copy-editor. I hope you enjoy this quick, yet steamy read. ~ Red 



They had both had an exhausting and emotion-filled month. Things were said and each had begun to question their role in the other's life. Over time, though, and through countless tears, they had finally come back to the same page. The conflicts that had threatened to destroy them were resolved, and their love for one another had once again conquered those that had hoped to destroy them. 

He called her down to the playroom and she'd come willingly. The high backed chair had been placed a few feet from the bed. The ankle restraints, as well as the neck restraint, were already attached to the polished wood. Their silver padlocks picked up the light that flooded the room. Her heart skipped a beat as she saw Master waiting for her to join him. Obediently she disrobed and crossed the space that separated them. 

She reached the chair and sat down. The cool temperature was a contrast to her hot skin. She said nothing as he bent down and tethered each ankle to the front legs of the chair. Her pulse raced when his gentle yet firm and powerful fingers pressed her neck back. The leather strap hugged her throat, blanketing the nylon collar and tag that proclaimed her as his. A small silver padlock was fastened around the front clip of the restraint. It was heart shaped and lay against her flushed skin. Another restraint was added to her waist. It was pulled tight and she was asked to test her bindings. 

True to his request, she did just that. The restraint around her neck allowed just enough movement to permit her to turn her head to the left or right. Her hands were still free, so she tried to escape, yanking at the lock on her throat as well as the one on her waist. She twisted her legs, flexing her ankles and feet against the thick ties that bound her, seeing if those bore a hint of weakness. When they were both satisfied, he pressed her wrists together; her palms faced one another. He wrapped the final restraint around her wrists, and locked it with the final padlock. There was a small amount of freedom allowed her, to wiggle her fingers and close and open her palms. 

He stepped back and disrobed. Her breath quickened at the sight of him walking toward the small refrigerator/freezer in the corner. There were only a few things that he kept in the small dorm-room appliance. One of those things she knew was ice, a favorite plaything of them both. He opened the door, reached in and pulled out what he wanted. She licked her lips in anticipation as she watched him, her eyes full of wonder. 

When he turned around, in his hand was a small paper cup. He peeled away the paper, exposing a thick chunk of ice, which he set on a nearby table. Then he picked up a lighter and walked around the room, lighting the wicks of several strategically placed candles. When he was done, he flipped the switch on the wall, shutting off the lights, and faced her. 

Candlelight flickered across their nude bodies as he walked toward her. By the time he reached her side, his cock was fully aroused. She turned her head and came face to face with his jutting shaft and spongy tip. Her pussy tightened and her mouth began to water. He was just a mere inch or so away from her lips. She ached to taste him. The tip of her tongue darted out from between her lips, moistening his pink flesh. A whimper slipped out when he handed her the chunk of ice. 

"A new game, pet," he said. 

She swallowed the lump in her throat and felt the well-known sign of budding frustration in the depths of her abdomen. Her lower lip trembled. He knew how she loved new games. 

"You need to free yourself. Frozen inside the ice are the keys to the padlocks. The one on your throat, the one on your waist, and the one," he smirked and chuckled softly, "the one on your wrists. Your ankle restraints are just buckles, no locks, so you will find those easy I am sure. This one," he touched the heart shaped lock on her throat and this one," he flicked the one at her wrist, "not so much." 

"Open your fingers and palms," he said. She did as he'd commanded and the chunk of ice was slipped into the cradle her hands created. "You're to rub the ice over your body, melting the water, freeing the ring of keys. Once you have them free, you can unlock yourself, then my dear one," he cupped her right breast and tweaked the nipple, "you may worship my cock." 

A groan of pure carnal lust poured out of her. Her sex throbbed and moisture eased from her sex, settling on the chair. "Thank you, Master," she whispered. 

He leaned down and kissed her lips; his tongue sought hers and they danced a slow and teasing dance of seduction. He rubbed her nipple with his thumb and forefingers, teasing the pink pearl until it was aching for another kind of touch. Master knew what she needed and so he settled between her legs, and began to suck, bite and tease the tip of her breast, while she began to melt the ice. 

She brought the chunk  of ice up to her neck, where she rubbed and caressed her skin, that was growing more flushed and heated as Master sucked and drew her nipple between his teeth. She bit down on her lower lip, chewed on the inside of her mouth and gasped when he shoved one finger into her tight pussy and began to fuck her. 

Her muscles tightened beneath her, and for a moment she forgot her role in this game. She quickly resumed moving the cube, ran it over her shoulders, down her breasts, and awkwardly rubbed the top of the left globe. Cold trails of water slipped and slid down her body; shivers danced up and down her spine, making her tremble. Master lapped at the water that she sent spiraling down the curved paths between and around her breasts, her stomach, her mound. 

She moaned and writhed under him. His tongue traveled down to her pussy, where he teased her clit. He flicked and pushed at it with the tip of the wet muscle, drove a second finger into her opening and told her how much his cock ached. He told her how he wanted to taste her cum and how much of a slut she was. 

Her legs were open, as far as she could manage, straining against the ankle restraints until her calves ached, and her chest rose and fell as he began to fuck her feverishly with his mouth and fingers. She bucked and pulled at the restraints. Her hands moved faster, she ran the cube across her abdomen; more cool liquid slipped down her body. When it hit her sex, he drank it before lapping at the inner walls of her pussy. Her eyes were clenched tight as he brought forth a shuddering climax from her. Amidst drinking her nectar, he ordered her to continue. 

"Move it, we haven't all night--for this game."

The ice was much smaller now. Her heated skin had melted the ice quickly. She rubbed it across her lips, sucked on a small corner, drank the life-giving fluid and tasted a small hint of metal. Excitement shot back and forth inside her mind as she realized she was closer to freedom than she'd realized. 

Master looked up and smiled. He rose to his feet and once more made his way to her side. His cock was hard, swollen and appeared angry with need. She saw his hand come up and his fingers wrap around the engorged flesh. He stroked himself; she turned and opened her mouth. He chuckled softly. It dawned on her and showed in her face that she knew she could not reach that which she craved. 

She held the cube between her palms and pressed it against her pussy. A gasp of shock followed by a sigh of pleasure filled the room as she cooled her hot sex and watched Master tease her with his cock. 

He rolled his fingers over the head and gathered his pre-cum, offering it to her hungry tongue. She took it, slowly at first, just a small taste. Once she savored it he offered her another drop. This time she made no move to deny herself. She drew his finger into her mouth and sucked greedily, until she felt she'd cleaned the digit properly. He withdrew his finger, leaned in and ran his cock along her cheek. "Don't do it," he warned her, having seen the desire in her eyes. "Don't you dare make yourself come before that ice melts," he said, before slapping her mouth with his cock, and walking away. 

She watched him walk away. He sat down on the edge of the bed and watched her. His hand touched his ball sack, while the fingers from his other hand stroked his rod. Master wantonly displayed himself, knowing that she desired nothing more than to suck and drink the fluids boiling up for her. 

The cube was hard to hold now. Its size was greatly diminished, so she was forced to concentrate not only on the cube, but also on the metal she could now feel with her fingers. She rubbed the cube up and down her slit; the water sent chill after chill over her hot flesh. A moan, followed by a low grunt, were signs Master needed to hear, and she had no problem giving them. The act of watching him touch what she wanted to worship, while fingering herself with the ice and rubbing her clit with the tips of manicured fingers brought her to the edge of release. 

Her panting and moaning filled the room, and when the keys slipped free of their icy cage, she held them in one fist as tight as she could, shoved the rest of the ice into her channel and hissed in pleasure as it began to dissolve at a speed much faster than before. She rubbed her clit, while watching Master stroke his cock and roll his testicles back and forth between his fingers. His gaze was intense, and he controlled her desire with a look that told her how badly he wanted her at his feet. 

When she came she shook violently; her head was thrown back and her mouth open to drag in the gulps of air her lungs craved. Stars danced behind her clenched lids as she shook against her palm; the teeth of the keys dug into her fingers as she held them in a death-like grip. When she came down from her orgasm, it was with a foggy haze. Her master cleared his throat, and she moaned softly. It took her a few seconds to comprehend that she was still locked and unable to reach him. 

She gave herself a mental shake and pulled herself back to the task at hand. It took her eyes a moment to adjust to the lighting, after her earth rattling orgasm, but when she was able to focus, she noticed the three keys. They were each similar in some ways, but also different. Their sizes differed, but not their color. She picked one and slipped it up to her fingers, held it tight and bent her arms so she could touch and play with the lock at her waist. When she felt confident in her task, she pushed a key into the hole and turned it. 

A chuckle erupted from Master's lips, followed by, "Lucky girl." 

The first key she chose had been the right key for that lock. The click of freedom was heaven to her ears. She tucked the keys back into her fist and with the fingers of her other hand, she wiggled the padlock free. It fell to the ground and she glanced at Master. 

He no longer stroked his cock. She could tell he was interested in how she was going to free herself. His watchful gaze was both comforting and nerve-wracking. She took a deep breath and picked one of the keys. Her eyes darted toward Master as she tucked the keys she didn't want to use into her mouth and kept the one she wanted to try between her teeth. He eyed her knowingly; she knew that he would aid her if it became necessary. 

Pride drove her onward. She brought the lock up to her mouth, pushed and prodded the key against its hole until finally she was able to line up the tip of the key with it. A quick mental prayer was sent to the heavens as she turned her wrists, held tight to the key and waited for the knowing click. When it did not come she grunted a curse; Master chuckled. 

Using her tongue, she maneuvered another key between her lips. She glanced at Master again; he nodded his encouragement. She repeated the process, this time gaining her reward. The lock gave and she sighed in contentment and relief. The keys were taken from her mouth and tucked into her fist. She used her tongue, fingers and teeth to slip the lock free; it clattered to the floor. She then used her teeth to pull at the leather that had been wrapped around her wrists. When it began to become looser, she was able to pull her hands apart. 

She smiled wide when she'd won the freedom to move with more ease. Master shared her grin, and he chuckled at the joy in her features. It took her several tries to free the lock on her neck, not because the keys did not work, but because her heart was pounding with excitement and she found it hard to concentrate, often forgetting which key she'd already tried. When her throat was free she quickly bent down and released her ankles. 

Her gaze shot to Master's crotch. His hard-on was still evident and her lust was still thick and heavy between her loins. She quickly dropped from the chair to the floor and crawled to Master. He opened his legs and held his cock out to her. A whimper followed by a purr rippled past her lips. When she reached his side, she began to do exactly what they both wanted. 

The tips of her fingers trailed up and down his rod as she gazed longingly at him. She nuzzled her cheek against his inner thigh as she looked at his smooth balls and swollen rod. Her hands caressed the skin of his shaft; a breath of air blanketed his testicles as she wiggled herself further between his legs. He petted her hair, toyed with the curls and caressed her cheek. Adoringly she looked upon him, and then she began to worship him. 

He watched as she laid her head against his thigh, and her fingers slowly trailed along the underside of his balls; when she touched them, he shivered, groaned softly and sighed in contentment. She smiled, looked up at him and pressed a kiss where her fingers had brushed. He said nothing, nor did he move to encourage her. She had won her reward and so he allowed her to bask in it. 

She licked at the soft, smooth flesh, pushing the spheres back and forth with a knowing touch. Her lips brushed across the underside and then she began to deliver long sensuous strokes with the flattened muscle until he was softly cursing. A soft giggle slipped past her throat, as she maneuvered herself up to her knees and dragged her tongue up his full length.  

One hand lay behind his cock. Her knuckles grazed his abdomen as she held him within her loose caress. She rolled her tongue around the mushroom head, then down along the ridge, before tracing the largest engorged vein with the tip of her tongue. His fingers no longer petted her long curly locks, but by now had become wrapped tightly around the silky strands. He pulled her hair slightly, allowing her to feel the pleasure he was receiving from her tender ministrations. 

She smiled against his shaft and quickly made her way up from the base of his cock to the head again, once more choosing a vein to follow. She reached the tip and played with the small opening, until she opened her mouth fully and engulfed the swollen head. He grunted long and low. She purred around the head, sending shock waves down the rod and forcing the sensations of a thousand needles to radiate through his spine. 

Her head moved left and right, as she slowly worked her way down his member, licking, sucking, and stroking with her tongue and fingers. When she had all of him in her, she looked back up into his eyes and grinned around a mouthful of cock. She bobbed up and down, twisting her hand back and forth, while feeling the blood course through his veins. She moaned, felt the wetness of her sex between her legs and fought the urge to dip her fingers inside. She knew the rules. 

Instead of disobedience, she gave him discipline.  She brought him close to the edge, then stopped, only to repeat the process over and over again. All the while she maintained eye contact, watching his face, reading his expressions and knowing when to pull back and when to deep throat him. When it was time, she knew by the color of his eyes and the way his lips pulled back in a grimace of lust. 

She relaxed her jaw, dropped her shoulders slightly and took a deep breath to calm the beat of her heart, all control over herself given to him.  Both fists were full of her hair as he began to fuck her with abandon. He controlled the speed and depth. He set and maintained the tempo he chose, and when he came, he showered her throat with his seed. 

Her tongue worked vigorously to swallow the offering, until she was sure she had emptied him. She never once looked away as she drank him in. When he pulled her up, she showed him the last mouthful of semen, before obeying his command to drink it. She savored the last swallow, and she reveled at the look in his eyes, when he told her to rise and feed him her pussy. 



Renewal of Passion



I had been down and just marking time ever since I'd left Beirut three years earlier. I hadn't really been able to write that whole time either; I was just floating on the royalties from my earlier novels, written in the passion of my youth—passion that I just couldn't find in me anymore. Perhaps it was having hit that deadly age of fifty; perhaps passion naturally dissipated from that point. But, again, perhaps it was the radical change in my lifestyle. I'd loved teaching at the American University of Beirut, but I'd been warned it was time to leave Lebanon—that it was just too dangerous there for Americans at that time—and I knew in my heart that this was a reasonable assessment—that placing myself in danger placed others around me in danger as well, people I cared deeply for. I'd loved—in every sense of the word—my young protege, Riyad Munif, now a celebrated novelist throughout the Arab world in his own right.

Three long years later now, and I hadn't had anyone since that last, memorable evening in Riyad's arms before I boarded my last flight out of Lebanon. The glorious memory of possessing him, my cock churning around inside him, and him moaning and sighing for me in that beautiful melodic voice of his—just a slowly receding memory. Now all I had was dry dust: mornings as an occasional guest lecturer at a creative writing class over at the university and afternoons and evenings sitting in front the blank, blinking window of my computer, spent of both words and passion.

It was on a cold, dreary morning in one of those creative writing classes that my Palestinian came into my life and thawed my frozen heart. He was bright eyed, hanging on my every word and nuance. And he was beautiful, all dark and steamy good looks. I was lost to men of the Levant; that, quite frankly was why I had landed in Beirut to begin with. In my youth, all you had to do is troop a young Arab beauty by me, and my cock would flip up to attention. But as beautiful as this young Palestinian student, Samir, was, my cock was just nestled there, limply down my right pant leg on this morning. I was feeling so old. So useless and empty.

But these feeling apparently didn't convey to Samir. As class was breaking up, he asked me if he could show me the manuscript he was working on, that he was blocked on how to proceed and really could use some help. I hesitated a few moments, knowing full well that I didn't have anything else to do that day—or the next day—or the day after that. He looked so eager and stroked my ego so hard with comments on the effect my novels had had on him, that I relented and took him back to my home with me that day.

While I sat in my wing chair, scanning through passages from his manuscript, Samir stretched out on my sofa, his eyes glued to mine, looking for any evidence of response, negative or positive to his writing.

Samir's style was vaguely failure and was getting more and more familiar as I continued. His phrasing was elegant and sparse and the content was warming my blood, as I was pulled into the tale of a young student's love affair with his professor—his male professor. The character of the professor had such familiarity to it; it was almost as if I already knew this person. And Samir himself obviously was the narrator of the tale, the young student of the manuscript. I felt a stirring inside me that I hadn't felt for three years.

I looked up sharply at Samir. He was favoring me with a sensuous-lipped smile. I was a little shocked and confused. This was strongly homosexual material. Wonderfully written, but leaving little to the imagination. I'd never written anything but the most mainstream novels. Yet, this student was sitting here, watching me read his explicit prose without the least bit of embarrassment about how I might be reacting to the material.

"Excellent work, Samir," I said. "But these characters . . . some of this phrasing. They seem so familiar. Is this all your work? I can't place it, but . . ."

"Perhaps it is because of who I . . . studied . . . under."

I was confused. Why the hesitation? And why that languid grin?

"Riyad Munif." Samir explained as he gracefully unwound himself from a semisuppine position on the couch and sat up on the edge, very close to me now. "My undergraduate work was at the American University of Beirut—under Professor Riyad Munif. And I mean under professor Munif in more ways than one. Professor Munif told me about you when he learned I was coming to the States to study."

I sat there, dumbfounded, not able to say a thing. Old memories and emotions stirring. A sign of spring returning for the first time in three years.

Samir stood and took my hand in his and simply said, "Would you mind terribly if I took you into your bedroom and made love to you? It would mean so much to me and to my writing."

Shock. A complete lose for words or action. I dumbly rose as he squeezed my hand and followed him to my bedroom, where he slowly undressed me with his hands, covering me with his gliding and searching hands and mouth as he did so. When I was naked, he pushed me down into a sitting position on the edge of the bed and started working my cock with a soft and searching mouth. My fingers went to his head, wandering through his black, curly hair, and holding him to my crotch. I was having trouble breathing and gave him quite an audible show with my groans and moans as he brought me back to life after so many months and years of dormancy.

He pulled away only long enough to murmur, "Riyad was so right. He said you were huge and so thick. He was right. You don't know how I've dreamed about this cock." And then he was swallowing me again, deep-throating me, making me hold my breath to the point of blacking out. I shuddered and came down his throat in several spouting fountains of long-unsummoned semen.

The young, vigorous Samir popped right up, quickly stripped off his clothes, revealing a perfectly shaped body, lovingly built and maintained, and jumped up on the bed on his knees. Pulling me with him, he positioned us on the center of the bed and devoured me with kisses. His hands were everywhere, exploring my every curve and cavity, entering even my ass deep enough to reach my prostate and make my cock, so recently drained, harden up again and begin to burble precum. All the time he was telling me how wonderful my body was, sweet words of a fifty-year-old has been, even if untrue. Whatever the truth of the matter, his words and attention were having a marvelous effect. I felt the passion of arousal coursing through me again, after a long, long absence.

He lips and teeth were at my nipples now, ravaging them, making me crazy with lust.

"Riyad told me you loved nipple work," he was whispering. "And you have such large, brown aureoles. I can hardly get them in my mouth—but I will try." And try and succeed he did, and Riyad had been very right about my nipples as an erogenous zone, and I screamed out in ecstasy for him and writhed under my young attacker.

He had me on my back now and was below me, attacking my cock, balls, and asshole equally with his lips, tongue, teeth. My hips were bouncing up and down on the surface of the bed, in an ever-more-rapid rhythm. I was fucking his mouth again now with the rhythm of my hips and, at the same time, fucking myself on the three stiff fingers he had up my ass.

A flash of regret as my mind focused now on what was surely to happen next. Samir was going to fuck me. He was going to bury that lovely young dick up my ass and pump me hard. It had been so long since I'd had sex that I almost welcomed this. But I remember something I had frequently said when I, myself, was a young stud. "Young top turns into old bottom," I've always said. Samir had brought me back to life when I thought that sex was finally dead to me, but there was slight regret that I was to become a fulfillment of my old mocking declaration. It's the old man who gets fucked—if he's lucky.

Samir slid up my body, covering mine with his. "Fuck me now. Will you fuck me now?" he asked plaintively. "Riyad said you were a master cocksman. Can you side split me? Riyad said you were the best at that."

I was flooded with gratefulness and a new wave of passion that brought with it strength and confidence I hadn't experienced since I'd gotten on the plane in Beirut.

I turned on my side, and Samir nestled his body within mine, his butt cuddled into my crotch. As I lifted Samir's right leg up and away from his body with my hand, he reached down and guided my erect cock to and just inside his asshole, and then I started to assert control.

"Wait a minute," Samir suddenly said and bounced away from me and off the bed. "Do you mind if I tilt this dresser mirror so we both can see what you're doing? I want to watch your cock as it moves in and out of me."

He took the deep growling of overflowing passion at the back of my throat as assent, and he turned the mirror and was quickly back within my trembling arms. Old memories and capabilities and techniques and control and vigor returning to me, as my cock plowed up Samir's ass and I pumped him. With added fascination, I watched my thick cock stroking back and forth in his impossibly tight, sweet hole as the movement was reflected in the mirror. I turned my eyes on Samir's and saw him watching the movement with wide-eyed wonder. He groaned and whispered in a breathy small, voice.

"God, that's hot. Watching you enter and pump me. Can you take it all out and stuff it back in again? Ahhh. Yes. And again, harder, deeper? Yessss! It's so Bi— Ahhhhhh, Yessss!" He was whimpering now, lost in the combined effect of sight and sensation.

Our lips met and devoured each other, both at the height of passion and lust.

At full power, I pulled him up onto his knees and held his hips in strong hands, rocking him back and forth as I continued to pump my cock inside him for long minutes. He screamed and cried and groaned and grunted, leaving no question of my virility and ability to grab him deep and pull all of the energy and passion out of him that he had to give. This old man mastering and exhausting the younger man writhing below me.

Leaving a satisfied Palestinian youth collapsed on my bed, moaning and whimpering his full satisfaction, I rose and moved to my computer and started to fill those empty screens with an elegant, bold story of passion and renewed power. Old no more in any dimension that counted.