4 comments/ 41192 views/ 15 favorites Skittish Kitten By: Enamored This story may not be copied to or posted on any site without my express permission. ---000--- The townhouse I was living in had a large kitchen window opening out onto a large grassy area, with a few trees for shade. There was another townhouse just across the grassy area that had been sold a couple of weeks earlier. I had seen a very pretty woman moving in the previous weekend, with a lot of help from several men and women. I didn't intrude at the time, as I thought that there was enough confusion going on already. I had planned on going over and introducing myself, but I hadn't seen anyone around since the moving in day. This morning I was cleaning up the kitchen after a late breakfast, when I noticed that my new neighbor had parked her SUV in front and was attempting to move what appeared to be a rather heavy box up the stairs from the street. As she was having quite a time, and was resting it on the stairway banister every few steps, I went out to help her. I walked quickly over, introduced myself in a rather abrupt manner, and said, "Let me help with that." I picked the box up out of her arms, and quickly discovered why she had been struggling with it. It probably weighed close to 100 pounds. I carried it up to her door, and asked her where she wanted it. She opened the door, and asked me to put it in her den, as it was full of books. I got it in there, and asked if there were any more. She blushed a bit, and said that there were another ten or so boxes about the same weight. The stairs were narrow enough, and the boxes of a size that made it difficult for two people to carry the boxes up the stairs, so I simply carried them all myself. After getting all the boxes in and stacked in the den, she introduced herself as Meg, and asked if I would like a beer or a glass of wine. I accepted the wine, and we talked a bit about the neighborhood, the town and the sort of things that newly introduced people talk about when looking for a common ground. I got up to leave, saying that I had to get back to work, took one step and pure agony shot up my leg. Every time I tried to flex my ankle, I got a shooting pain up the inside of my ankle from the bottom of my foot. I tried to walk, actually hobble, but it didn't get any better. Meg was clearly quite upset, and insisted on taking me to our local clinic for an examination. I finally agreed, as I couldn't see myself getting any better soon, so we went down to her car, with my arm over her shoulder as she acted as my injured leg. It turned out that there is a large tendon that runs up from the bottom of the foot, along the inside of the ankle. Apparently I had pulled or strained it carrying the boxes up the stairs. The doctor's orders were to elevate my leg for at least the remainder of the day, and to stay off my foot as much as possible. She also gave me a prescription for a ten-day dose of an anti-inflammatory, and told me to make sure I took all of the pills. Meg took me to the pharmacy, got my prescription filled, then got me home again. I hobbled into the living room, with her help as a crutch, and got myself set up on the couch with a couple of books, and a pillow to keep my foot elevated. Meg insisted that she would cook dinner and bring it over, "as it was the least she could do, considering that I had hurt myself carrying her boxes." Meg left me to my own devices for the afternoon, arriving back about 6:30, with a bottle of wine, and several pans of food. She asked if she could use my stove and oven to heat things up, then was off into the kitchen where I could hear her rattling pots and pans as she got things going. After a few questions about where things were (including the wine opener), she brought out two glasses of wine, and we continued our conversation of the morning. Although Meg didn't go into details at all, I did figure out that she had gotten out of a very bad relationship not too long before. Whether it was a bad marriage, or simply a bad relationship I didn't know at the time. In any event, she was certainly reluctant to be close to me, generally sitting completely across the room. When she did help me move around a bit, she didn't exactly pull away, but there was absolutely nothing sexual, or even I'm interested in you, in her body language. She was simply a tool, or it appeared that was how she was treating herself. Dinner was wonderful, we finished the wine, and Meg quickly put the dishes in the dishwasher, packed up her pans, and asked if there was anything more she could do tonight. I assured her that I could get around, as I had the crutches I had finally remembered I had (and which she had dug out of my storage room). Meg left, and I hobbled around getting ready for bed and so on. The next day she reappeared at my door about noon, asking how my foot was feeling. I assured her that it was vastly improved, and that I could actually get around fairly well without much pain at all. Meg then informed me "In that case, dinner will be at my house tonight, at 7:00. Please come by at 6:30 for a drink before dinner." I told her that she didn't need to do this, but she insisted, and I finally agreed to come. Dinner that night was more or less a repeat of the previous night, a drink before dinner, a wonderfully cooked meal, and a bottle of wine to go with everything. We discovered that we both liked scotch and red wine. Did not like drunks or drugs. We loved to read, and had far more books than any otherwise sane person could imagine. We also discovered that we liked to talk with each other, and that we had many of the same interests. A few days later, I had Meg over for dinner, and we continued our conversation, always finding something new and different to talk about. Over the next few weeks the dinner exchanges became somewhat of a fixture in our lives. We would often eat together two or three times a week. On occasion, we would use my hot tub, usually after dinner, but both of us were always in swimsuits, her suit always being relatively conservative, although she certainly looked good in it. Meg traveled a bit for her job, going out of town for a day or two at a time. As I worked out of my home, I would pick up her mail, let the cleaning people in, and run the occasional errand for her. Despite the wonderful friendship we were developing, she was still as skittish as a kitten about any kind of body contact. As I had just gotten out of a rather acrimonious divorce not too long before, I didn't even try to make our relationship anything more than friendship. I simply had been too hurt, and was simply not ready for any kind of relationship other than just a friendship. This continued for several months. We even got to the point that we would use her SUV to go shopping (my sports car didn't allow for many groceries), although we always had our own shopping lists, and paid for our own groceries. Probably six or seven months later, it was my turn to go out of town on business. Meg took me to the airport, and agreed to pick me up when I came back, although I didn't know how long I was to be gone - somewhere around two weeks, but the time depended on the client. I tried to call her several times while I was gone, just to give her an idea of when I might be coming back, but I kept missing her. She would return my calls, but I was also generally out, so it wasn't until the night before I was to return that I finally got her on the phone, and asked her to pick me up the next afternoon. My flight got in about an hour after the scheduled time because of headwinds, but there was Meg, waiting for me as I straggled off the plane. It had been a very long flight; with the added hour simply compounding the stiffness and aches I had accumulated from being cooped up for so long. When she saw me, her face lit up, and she ran over and gave me a big hug and a kiss on my cheek. This was a huge surprise for me, as she had previously shied away from any kind of contact like this in the past. We picked up my luggage, and walked out to her car, and it was as though we hadn't been apart for more than a day or so. Our talk simply picked up from where we had left off before I left. Meg told me that dinner was at her house tonight, and she had bought a special bottle of wine to celebrate my return home. We got home, and went to our respective homes - Meg to cook, and me to unpack, start laundry, and clean up for dinner. Promptly at 7:00 I presented myself at Meg's door, and we had our before dinner drink. I did notice that her drink seemed to be a bit larger and a bit more colored than they usually were, but didn't really think anything of it. We ate dinner, talking about what had gone on while I was gone. Meg told me she had taken me up on my offer to use my hot tub while I was gone. She then got a little red in the face, and told me that she had been using it without a swimsuit, because she really enjoyed the feel of the warm water swirling over her, and she hoped I didn't mind. I told her that of course I didn't, and she was to feel free to do that any time she wanted to. We finished dinner, and Meg stood up, got the wine bottle, and poured the last of the wine into our glasses. She hesitated a moment, then leaned down and kissed me very softly on the lips and said, "I really missed you." I didn't know quite what to say or do, so being a typical dumb male; I didn't do anything, other than kissing her back as gently as she had me. "I missed you too." I was still quite stiff and achy from the flight, and told Meg that I would like to go sit in the hot tub and soak the aches and pains out, and that she was welcome to join me if she felt like it. Meg told me to go ahead and get the tub ready, and she would be over in a few minutes. The hot tub is normally kept warm, so all I had to do was crank up the heat a bit, take the cover off and turn on the jets and lights. I got my swimsuit on, grabbed two glasses and a bottle of brandy, and headed for the hot tub, leaving the front door unlocked. I could hear Meg open the front door, call that she was coming in, then walk down the hall to the bedroom and out the sliding door. She was wearing the same neck to ankle robe that she always did, which I had always wanted to tease her about. She was so very pretty; I could see no reason for her to hide like she did. I never have teased her, simply because she was so skittish that I thought it might well ruin our relationship. I was pouring myself a bit of brandy, and asked Meg if she would like some also. She replied, "Sure, a good sized one please." then "I hope you don't mind." I was concentrating on pouring the brandy, and assumed that she was talking about the size of the drink. Of course I told her I didn't mind at all. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Meg taking off the robe, and then I almost choked - she simply didn't have a thing on underneath the robe. As best as I could tell, she was blushing a considerable amount, as her face and upper chest were considerably darker than they normally were. Meg stepped down into the hot tub, picked up her brandy glass, then moved over and sat on the opposite side of the tub from me. I suppose that if we stretched our legs out, our feet would have reached to the other person's knees, or maybe thighs, but that is the closest we could come. I must have indicated my surprise a bit, as she said a bit defensively, "Well, you said I could any time I wanted to." I hastily agreed and tried very hard not to stare at her breasts, which were very close to my dream breasts. The only lights were the lights in the hot tub, which were dissipated considerably due to the bubbles from the jets, and an indirect light from my bedroom bedside table. Meg looked, as best I could tell, a bit uncertain and hesitant, but she took up our dinner conversation almost immediately, so I simply sank down in the hot water and let it ease the aches from the long flight. Meg suddenly sat up a bit straighter, knocked back the last of her brandy, and asked if she could have another. I started to reach for the bottle, but she stood up, and told me that she would pour it. She crossed over to my side of the tub to get the brandy, poured a very hefty shot, and drank about half of it at once. She then sat down next to me, and continued the conversation as if nothing had happened. This went on for a few minutes, and I was having difficulty in concentrating on the conversation. Meg then reached over with her hand and gently rubbed it up and down my thigh. "Don't you think you have a few too many clothes on?" she asked. I really didn't know what to say. I did not want to lose our friendship, but I also did not want to turn down what appeared to be a wonderful invitation. I stuttered and stammered a bit, and Meg sat back and said; "Let me tell you a bit about myself." She then just started in as though she were reading a story - in a monotone. What I had suspected wasn't even close to what she had gone through. Her ex-husband, who she had married very young, was really into bondage and pain. Meg had been brought up a good church-going girl, and had simply assumed that this was the norm for all marriages, as her wonderful husband could not simply be a pervert or sadistic. He apparently could not achieve orgasm without the use of such implements as nipple clamps (which he also used on her clit), paddles, and so on. She had submitted to this for a period of several years, hoping that she would "finally see the light." She had gone to her local church for help, but the minister (priest, pastor, I have never known which), simply told her that it was God's will that she submit to her husband in all his desires. Sex, and anything associated with sex simply brought up very painful memories for her. She had found that she liked me, and she thought I was a very gentle person, and she wanted to see if sex could be anything but a painful ordeal that was simply to be endured. I am not saying this very well; you would have had to be there, and listened to her pain to understand even a portion of what she was feeling. Meg then fell silent, and we simply sipped our brandy in silence. I had no idea what to say. I leaned over and very gently kissed her lips, then told her that in my opinion, the greatest gift that a woman could give a man was to let him inside her. No pain, no spankings or whippings. Just gentle loving. I stood up, took off my swim trunks and tossed them on the deck. I told Meg, "Let's see if I can show you what loving should be" and held out my hand as I climbed out of the tub. She hesitated a moment, then gave me her hand, and I lifted her out of the tub. I picked up a towel, and begin to gently dry her off, running the fluffy towel over her body very gently, and approaching her breasts and pubic area with great caution. After we were dried, I took her hand (and the brandy glasses) and led her into the bedroom where I turned down the bed and had her sit down. I gave her a brandy glass, and told her not to talk at all. I then proceeded to tell her how lovely I thought she was, how her breasts were simply wonderful, and that she was, in general, my idea of a very pretty woman. I also made sure to tell her how much I appreciated her mind as well as her body. Meg finally seemed to relax enough that she finished her brandy, and then lay back on the bed. "Please make love to me, gently. Show me how love should be." I lay down beside Meg, kissed her very gently, ran my hand down her check and neck, and asked her if she was sure this is what she wanted. She simply grabbed my hand and pulled it to down to her groin. Hoping I was doing right, I simply begin kissing her lips and neck, as well as nuzzling her ear. As we progressed, I let my hand wander over her breasts, down across her stomach and over her thighs. I was absolutely determined that the last thing that was going to be satisfied was my needs tonight. Meg needed a whole lot of very gentle loving. I worked my way down from her neck, kissing her breasts, and very gently nibbling on her nipples. My fingertips gently trailed up and down her thighs until I allowed them to begin to brush the hair above her nether lips. I very slowly spread her lips, and inserted first one, then two fingers inside her, as my mouth worked it's way south, concentrating on her nipples first, then on across her stomach and navel, until I finally reached her mound. I caressed her thighs with my tongue, drawing wet trails up her thighs into her most private areas. Finally, I begin sucking and nibbling on her clit, which was now standing up and revealing itself, however slightly, and licking down between her lips as my fingers titillated the very sensitive area between her lips and rectum. I continued teasing, trying my very best to give her what she should have always had - a loving sexual relationship. Finally, after what seemed to be an eternity her hips begin to move, and she begin to pant. As I moved back up to pay attention to her breasts again, I noticed that her chest and breasts had become much redder, and her nipples had become much more erect. I worked my way back down, inserting my fingers into her, and probing slightly upward toward as I sucked on her clit. Suddenly, hips started forcing themselves toward me, and she begun gasping, and started moaning "Oh, God, Oh God", and then shuddered several times. "Come here now" she pleaded, several times, as I reversed myself. I entered her, trying very hard not to simply impale her, and then slowly begin to make love to her. Within minutes, I spent myself, and we lay back together in a spoon position. Meg told me that she "had never known sex could be so pleasant", then grasped my hand and pulled it up to cover her breast. We drifted slowly off to sleep, comfortable with each other. I awoke fairly early the following morning. Meg was huddled on the side of the bed, still asleep. I just lay there for a few minutes rehashing what had happened the night before - the wine, the dinner, and then what I would have thought was something unthinkable for Meg to do - she offered herself to me, despite the quite apparent fears she had of sex and pain. I got up quietly, and gently pulled the covers up over Meg a bit in case she was cold, before I got my robe on and went out to the kitchen. I deliberately left the door to the bedroom open so I could hear Meg if she called. I started a pot of coffee, and begin looking in the refrigerator to see what could be done about breakfast. The coffee was nearly done, and I was sitting at the table trying to get clear in my own mind just where I wanted this relationship to go. I hadn't thought that I was ready for any kind of romantic involvement yet, but I certainly didn't want to lose the wonderful relationship that appeared to be developing without my really being aware of it. I was certainly comfortable with Meg, and I really liked her, but I wasn't sure where all this was headed. I was still mulling this over when I heard sounds from the bedroom indicating that Meg had gotten up. I started to go back to the bedroom, but Meg came in, with her all concealing robe on. I started to hug her and give her a kiss good morning, but she initially shied away a bit, then laughed rather nervously, kissed me and said, "After last night, I really shouldn't be nervous around you." She then put her hand on my arm and asked anxiously "Was it alright, you're not upset with me?" I didn't know what to say, but I knew I had to say something. I finally came out with something about the previous evening had been absolutely wonderful, and that I couldn't imagine why any man would be upset with her. I certainly wasn't. I realized as I told her these things that I was quite sure I wanted our relationship to go on in a romantic sense, but that I had better not push things too fast or I could very well scare her off entirely. Skittish Kitten I got her to sit down, gave her coffee, and asked what she would like for breakfast. After running through the options with her, we decided on French toast and bacon. I started getting things ready, then Meg asked if I had the makings for Bloody Marys. I normally keep a container of Bloody Mary mix in the refrigerator, as I drink that instead of orange juice, so I told her where it was, and where the vodka was and let her make the drinks while I cooked. I served breakfast, and we drank our Bloody Marys (which I noticed had been made considerably stronger than I normally do). We talked a bit, and it was clear to me that she was deliberately steering the conversation away from last night. I let her talk on, and after breakfast, she sort of ran out of conversation. I finally asked her if I had done anything to upset her, or if she was regretting last night. She hesitated, then said that she had no regrets, but that she was afraid that I might think of her as a loose woman, or that she had imposed herself on me. I couldn't believe my ears. After a couple of false starts and stammers, I explained to her as forcefully as I felt I could get away with, that the thought that she was a loose woman was the farthest thing from my mind, and in fact hadn't even occurred to me. I knew that she had a very strict religious upbringing, but I hadn't expected that it would create these issues. I also told her that I did not feel "imposed upon", but rather felt honored that she would grant me the pleasure and gift of making love to her. I reassured her along these lines a bit more, then told her that I would love the opportunity to make love to her again, and in fact would love to make love to her right now. Meg blushed a bit, and told me that she had to think things through a bit, because last night had been a spur of the moment thing, that had probably been due to too much to drink. I started to try to dissuade her, but she simply laughed, stood up and kissed me, and said she had to go. I did get her to agree to dinner that night before she left, then she was off across the "park" to her place. Having decided that I wanted to start a romantic relationship, I now put my mind on making sure it happened. I cleaned the house, searched through several cookbooks, and made a quick trip to the store for what I would need. Meg was due to arrive at 7:00, and she was always exactly on time. By six I had the table set, long taper candles in place, music that I knew we both loved on the CD changer, and everything was completely ready. It just wasn't time yet. I went over the preparations numerous times, feeling as though the clock was stuck in molasses. I was actually reminded of Einstein's theory of relativity, and how time could pass differently for people at different speeds. In any event, I looked out the kitchen window for what must have been the hundredth time, and Meg was walking across the "park", beautifully done up. She had obviously been to the hairdresser, and her clothes complemented her coloring and figure very well. The clothes were still quite conservative, but given what I had seen her wear before, she was making remarkable strides. I met her at the door, complementing her on how wonderful she looked. She smiled, kissed me, and came in. She set her "tote-bag" on the table beside the door, and told me she had a surprise for me later. I prepared drinks, and while we were sipping them, I lit the candles on the table, and got the last of the meal ready to go. We talked as I worked, and the conversation was similar to the one we had this morning, it steered away from anything sexual, and certainly didn't touch anything like relationships. Dinner was finally ready, and as we sat down, I realized that our conversation had drifted away from our normal talk of whatever came to mind, and was being more constrained. During dinner I made a supreme effort to get our conversation back to the type of conversation that we had normally had. By dessert it was back to normal, and we were laughing and talking like the previous night had never happened. After we finished dessert, I offered Meg a brandy, and she laughed and told me that she had something better. She got up and went to the bag she had left on the table, pulling out an extremely old port that must have cost a bundle. She told me she had been saving this for a special occasion, and as I opened it a wonderful fragrance came from the bottle. We settled ourselves in the living room, with our port, and I thought that this was something that I could get really used to. Perhaps this was what a marriage was supposed to be. We talked and drank our port - perhaps I gave Meg a bit more than I took, but it was her port after all. I asked Meg if she would like to go into the hot tub tonight – then hastily added that I wasn't trying to push her into anything. Meg froze for a minute, then said that would be a nice ending to the evening. She went over and got her bag, disappearing into the bathroom as she told me to get the tub warmed up. Not wanting to push things, I poured each of us a small port, changed into my swimsuit, and was sitting in the tub when Meg came out of the bathroom. She had obviously had her "concealing robe" in the bag, as that was what she was wearing when she came out onto the deck. She leaned over and kissed me, then straightened up, and undid the robe (I had never figured out whether it needed to be unbuttoned, or just pulled over her head), and stepped into the tub. Unlike the night before, she had her swimsuit on underneath. She leaned down and kissed me, then stepped into the pool and sat down beside me. We talked for a while, then Meg looked at me, hesitated for a moment, then asked if I would mind if she took the swimsuit off. I emphatically told her that of course I didn't, and that she should feel free to do that at any time. She turned her back to me, and asked me to unzip it for her. For some strange reason, my hands were shaking a bit as I unzipped the suit, then slipped the shoulder straps off her shoulders and down her arms. I started to ease the top down off her breasts, but she moved away slightly, doing it herself. She stood up, pulled the suit down her legs and stepped out of it - although stepping out of it is probably not the best way to describe it as the swirling water made it a bit difficult, then sat down again, close to me, but not close enough for me to put my arm around her. A minute or two later, she told me that I seemed to have a problem with too many clothes, last night and then again tonight. This was all I needed, and quickly skinned the trunks off and tossed them on top of her suit on the deck. We talked and touched, not being like teenagers, but simply letting the water flow over us, and our fingers trail across each other's skin. We leaned toward each other and kissed, then our bodies seemed to just sort of flow toward each other, and we were sitting hip to hip in the warm water. After awhile it seemed that the warm water wasn't necessary to keep our temperatures up, and Meg quietly asked me if I would make love to her again, like I had the night before. I simply answered, "I can't imagine anything that I would like more", and kissed her. We got out of the tub, and went into the bedroom. It was somewhat of a repeat of the previous night, except that Meg turned down the covers. She was still quite apprehensive, so I worked very hard at arousing her in the best way I knew how. We made love, only this time she was a bit more of a participant, wrapping her legs around me, and holding me as close to her as she could. When we were both satisfied, we curled up together and listened to each other's heartbeat. After a few minutes, Meg asked me "Where do we go from here?" I started to reply, but then she told me not to say anything, and that she would rather let things just develop on their own. I kissed her, cupped her breast in my hand, and snuggled down beside her a bit more. A little later, Meg disengaged herself and sat up saying that she had to get back to her place, as she needed to leave town early in the morning, and she still wasn't completely ready to go. She got up, slipped her robe on over her head, got her bag from the bathroom, putting the rest of her things in it, and I walked her to the door. I kissed her, and started to tell her I thought I was falling in love with her, if I wasn't already. She could apparently read my mind, because she put her fingers on my lips and told me to not say anything, just enjoy what we had. Over the next several weeks, we fell back into our habit of having dinner with each other several times a week, only now we had the added spice of making love. We didn't make love every time we had dinner, and Meg was still a bit skittish if I tried to initiate our loving. She seemed to need to be in a particular kind of mood, and then she would initiate the advances, usually accompanied by a little more to drink than was otherwise normal. We had, however, progressed to the point that we usually didn't bother with swimsuits in the hot tub, and Meg didn't seem quite so skittish about me looking at her and admiring her body. I in turn had gotten more adept at understanding her, and her moods - although moods is perhaps too strong a word. Settings and timing seemed to more the key. My world was wonderful, and I truly enjoyed spending time with Meg. The only fly in the ointment was our love making. I certainly enjoyed making love to Meg, and over time Meg had become more responsive, and more of a participant, but only to a point. Other than kisses, and her hands running over my body, she was more of a receiver than a giver. It was also difficult at times for me to get her to let me know what pleased her, and what didn't. I had absolutely no idea how to resolve this - Meg simply didn't seem to want to, or at least didn't seem to be able to talk about sex. One evening, after a rather long, lonely week (Meg had been out of town, although we did talk fairly often on the telephone), Meg had me over to her house for dinner. Dinner, as always, was wonderful, the conversation was great, and I couldn't have asked for more, except that Meg seemed a bit nervous. We had cleaned up the kitchen, and went into the living room and sat down with our after dinner drinks. I noticed a book on the table beside her chair - it wasn't The Joy of Sex, but something similar, although perhaps a bit more erudite. When Meg noticed me looking at it, she turned absolutely beet red, and mumbled something about doing some reading on her trip. I didn't say anything much, just something like "Did you enjoy it?" and let it go at that. Meg took a very deep breath, which incidentally caused the material of her blouse to be stretched across her breasts, emphasizing them for a moment. She got up, came over to me, bent down and kissed me, running her tongue briefly over my lips. She then took my hand and gently pulled on it, guiding me up. She kept hold of my hand and started walking back toward the her bedroom, crooking her arm behind her, so that she didn't need to let go of my hand. Once we got to her bedroom, she turned around and put her arms around my neck, kissed me again, then started unbuttoning my shirt. This was a whole, new Meg. All the times we had made love, we had never undressed each other - at least like this. We removed each other's clothing, and as we did, I ran my hands over her breasts, and down to her thighs. We got into bed, and made love again, although this time Meg was different. I could tell that she was actively trying to enhance my pleasure as I was trying to do the same to her. She was also a bit more verbal than she had been in the past, asking me to tease gently, and later to use more pressure, or play with her breasts. We spent ourselves, and just lay there, content, with my head on her breast. We must have laid there for thirty minutes or more, when Meg kissed the top of my head, and begin running her hand along my leg and fondling me. After a few moments I begin to respond a bit, and she told me to lie down on my back. I did as she asked, and she begin kissing me, then nibbling on my nipples - all the while fondling me, or cupping me in her hand. Slowly she moved her head down my chest, leaving little trails of moisture from her tongue on my skin. Finally I could feel her breath on me as she held me erect for a moment, then slowly slid her tongue around my head. She took me in her mouth, just a bit, and I could feel her tongue slipping around my head as she gently sucked. This went on for a few moments, then I felt her take a deep breath and then slide me further and further into her mouth. Almost immediately she gagged, and I asked if she was all right - she said she was just fine, and that she needed a bit of practice. She took me back in, not quite as deep as the last time, then slowly worked me further into her mouth. She gagged a little a couple of more times, but soon she had me almost all the way into her mouth - her tongue still making swirls on my skin. I was rapidly reaching the point of climax, and told her so - she simply said "Uh-huh", and continued with the swirling sucking sensation. I erupted, and she held me in her mouth for a few more moments, slowing her tongue motion until finally she released me, and moved up beside me. "Did that please you?" she asked. I told her it certainly had, and that I thought it had been simply wonderful. "And I'm not a loose woman?" she asked with a bit of a grin, although I could tell that she was only halfway kidding. I assured her she wasn't, and she snuggled down beside me, and we drifted off to sleep. --000— I awoke early, as I normally do, and just lay there thinking over the events of the past several days, wondering how things could have changed so much in just a few days. Meg had been out of town on business, as she was fairly frequently, and I had gone over to her house to put the mail in and generally check on things. I walked in, and the house had looked as though a tornado had hit it. I immediately called the police, waiting outside for them, and when we walked through the house it looked as though the entire house had been ransacked. Drawers were open and the contents dumped on the floor. Books had been pulled off the shelves and strewn around her den. Her bedroom was the worst. Her closet had been emptied, as had her dresser, with the contents dumped in a pile on the floor. Whoever had done this had poured cooking oil, soy sauce, flour etc on top of the clothes, ruining most of them. The mirror in the bathroom had been shattered, and whoever had done this had hit or kicked the toilet hard enough to crack it, resulting in water everywhere, adding to the mess. The police were nice and courteous, but didn't hold out a lot of hope for catching the intruder - saying that they thought it probably had been kids just out to trash the house. I wasn't sure I agreed with them, but as I didn't have any better ideas, I didn't comment. I called Meg that night, and she became almost hysterical on the telephone. She was certain that her ex-husband had found out where she had living, and that he was the one who had done it. I calmed her down as best I could, and got her to agree that she would call the police and update the report with her suspicions. Meg didn't get back for another two days, which gave me time to clean things up, wash the clothes, salvage what I could, get a plumber in to replace the toilet and a carpet cleaning service in to do what they could with the rugs. A stranger going into the house wouldn't have noticed anything amiss, but anyone who had been there would immediately know that the house was different. I had done the best I could, but I was sure that Meg was going to feel as though her house had been violated. I made plans for Meg to stay at my place until we knew what was going on, and we had been able to put the little touches back into her home. Meg arrived home late in the afternoon, and got into her house before I saw her. I looked out my kitchen window and saw her car, dropped what I was doing and went over. She was simply standing in her den, staring at the books (which I had not been able to get back into the order she had them) shaking and crying. I tried to calm her down, but she simply couldn't seem to stop. Finally, I picked up her suitcase and asked her to come over to my place where she could sit down, have a drink, and calm down. Meg didn't really want to, but she also didn't seem to want to stay in her home, at least alone, and finally agreed. We got into my house, put her suitcase in the hall, and I fixed her the largest drink I had ever given her. For a while she simply didn't say anything - just sat and stared. She would respond when I talked to her, but that was pretty much the extent of her involvement with the outside world. After what seemed to be an eternity she begin talking - partially to me, but partially to herself it seemed. Although she had told me earlier about her sexually abusive ex-husband, we had never gotten much past what she had told me the first night we made love. He had been a sexual sadist, and used her religious upbringing for his own twisted purposes. What she told me now made her earlier fear of sex, and of him, much more understandable. Meg had tried, on several occasions, to leave him, but he always found her and dragged her home. At least once it had been literally dragging, as he cut off her car on a back road, forcing her to stop, then dragged her by the hair out of her car and into his. What happened when he got her home was not pretty, and would have been abusive by any normal person's standards. Ultimately, she had found a battered women's shelter that got her an attorney (a woman) and divorce proceedings were initiated. He had attacked her in the courtroom when they had to be in court for a restraining order against him; told the judge that God had given her to him when they got married, and that the court had no business interfering in his marriage. The upshot of the whole thing was that the district attorney got involved and prosecuted him for spousal abuse. He was sent to jail for spousal abuse, and Meg was granted her divorce, as well as a permanent restraining order against him. She had heard from friends that when he got out, he immediately begun looking for her, but as she had moved and left no forwarding address, she had felt relatively safe. Even most of her friends didn't know where she lived, except for those that had helped her move, and most of those were associated with the women's shelter. It was strange - in her business life she was a strong, healthy individual. In her private life she had been so abused that she simply didn't deal with relationships very well at all, she had little self-confidence, and seemed to feel she was meant to be used. After nearly a year of a wonderful relationship, she had begun to respond to me, and we had, what I felt, were the foundations of a lifelong relationship - whether it ever involved marriage or not. I talked to her, trying to impress on her that she was safe here in my home, and she was welcome to stay as long as she wanted. I started to say that perhaps we could make those living arrangements permanent, but then decided that I was pushing things beyond the envelope. I gave Meg another drink, fixed dinner, and we ate in a rather gloomy atmosphere. I tried to get her to talk but she was still in a kind of shock, and only responded in a rather robotic manner. Throughout the evening, whenever I tried to hug or kiss Meg, she had been at best hesitant, and I had discovered that coming up behind her was definitely not a good idea - she would cringe or flinch as though she were going to be beaten. Obviously, sex was the farthest thing from either her mind or my mind. Skittish Kitten It got late, and Meg had kept having just one more glass of wine until she was finally at the point that she was not really coherent. I got her into the bedroom, undressed her, and got her into bed before I went out and cleaned up the kitchen. When I finally went to bed, I got into bed very carefully so as to not awaken her. This morning she was still asleep, although she was huddled up in an almost fetal position, lying on the very edge of the bed, as though she was trying to get as far as she could from me. I got up, quietly got my clothes and went into the bathroom to shave and shower, trying to keep things as quite as possible to avoid awakening her. After completing my morning routine, I went into the kitchen, made myself some tea and thought about what I could do to minimize this latest event in Meg's life. I knew that I loved her, and wanted to protect her, but I also wanted her to be able to be free - to be the woman she had started to evolve into over the last year. I was still trying to think of ways to improve her private self-image, when she came into the kitchen. Her eyes were puffy and red as though she had been crying recently, and she seemed to have very little "her" - there wasn't the bouncing, energetic woman she had become over the last year or so, but rather much more like she had been initially - fearful and hesitant. I stood up and kissed her. She seemed a bit fearful initially, but then returned my kiss - not sexually, but as though she was grabbing for a life ring in the middle of the ocean. I hugged Meg to me, and she put her arms around me and hung on like it meant life or death to her. We stayed like that for several minutes, then she sniffled a bit, and asked if I could feed the stray that couldn't go home. I told her that of course she could go home, but that I would much prefer it if she would stay with me - in fact, we could make this a permanent arrangement if she would like, because I certainly would. There was a flare of the old Meg when she told me that she would like that, but simply wasn't ready yet, and my morning became much more cheerful. Over breakfast we talked, and finally decided that Meg would stay with me for the next week or two, until we could determine what her ex-husband was doing, if anything. Meg dressed and went off to work, and I retired to my home office to catch up on work that had gone begging the last couple of days as I attended to Meg's home. Meg had been staying with me for two weeks, and we had finally decided that it would be all right if she went back to her home, as perhaps it really was just kids. The police had reported that there was no indication that her ex-husband was in the area, so we started to relax. Meg was getting back to her "normal" self, and we had even experimented with one or two of the things that she had read in her "sex manual" - although the book itself had been destroyed when her house was trashed. Of course part of the reason that we were able to relax was that an alarm company had just finished installing a complete set of burglar alarms, which happened to include a fire alarm - all connected to the police station. As I knew that this was the last night Meg would be staying with me – at least for a while, I tried to make it special. Candles, soft music, good wine - all were in my plans. Meg got home from work about 6:00, and I greeted her with a kiss and hug. I took her into the living room, gave her the drink that I had already prepared for her, and told her that I wanted to make tonight her special treat. After drinks, I served the dinner that I had specially chosen for sensuousness. The sauces were delicate, the food meant simply to seduce her with its tastes and textures. Meg seemed to be responding wonderfully - the hesitancy I had seen earlier in the week was gone, and she seemed to revel in my attentions. I cleared the table, and brought her a glass of brandy. I gently grasped her hand and lifted her out of her seat, escorting her into the living room, where I sat her in front of the fire. I bent over, kissed her neck beneath her ear, then slipped down beside her. Meg sipped her brandy, before she put her head on my shoulder. We stayed like this for quite awhile, exchanging kisses while we drank the brandy. Finally I put down my glass, and turned toward Meg, kissing her somewhat more emphatically, and running my hand down her check and neck. Meg responded by setting her glass down, and putting her arms around my neck. We continued to neck like a pair of teenagers for a bit, then I cupped her breast in my hand as I gently squeezed it. Meg responded by pushing her breast toward me, and I begin slowly undressing her. I worked through the buttons and snaps in a leisurely fashion, taking care to be sure that Meg received all the attention she wanted in the process. We were now lying on the rug in front of the fire - Meg didn't have a thing on, but I still had my shirt and pants on. I was running my tongue over her breasts while my fingers trailed up between her thighs and down her legs. I was beginning to head south, to have my tongue join my fingers, when she stopped me. She whispered that it was her turn for a minute, as she sat up and begun unbuttoning my shirt. Meg eased me out of my shirt and pants, then after kissing me, and running her tongue as far as it would go into my mouth, she begin working her way down my chest, pausing at my nipples to swirl around them with her tongue. She eventually got considerably lower, and her breath on my groin made me catch my breath. As she started to take me in her mouth, I stopped her and told her that this was supposed to be her special treat. She replied that it was, and continued what she was doing. I started to let myself go to the wonderful sensations, before deciding to continue with my original intent. I asked Meg to turn around so her legs were straddling my head. I begin to lick and nibble along her thighs, heading toward their juncture. I let my fingers and tongue ease into her warm moistness, then begin to titillate her with my fingers playing with the sensitive area below her nether lips, as I attempted to do to her clit what she was doing with me. I tried to duplicate the swirling sensation of her tongue on me, with my tongue and mouth on her clit, while my fingers teased. Meg's hips started to push against me, as she started to pay more attention to what was being done to her, than to me. Suddenly her hips pushed hard against me as her muscles tensed and a warm trickle flowed over my tongue from her lips. Meg lay quietly for a moment, then turned around and mounted me, putting me in her in one smooth motion. She eased herself further down onto me, holding still for just a moment, then beginning a rocking motion that soon had me right on the edge. With her breasts bobbing above me, and her thighs first grasping, then releasing me, I soon erupted, bucking upwards as I went over the edge. Meg collapsed on top of me, then rolled off to my side, and we just lay there, drained of all strength. I told her how much I loved her, and how special I thought she was. She smiled, kissed me and told me that she felt the same way about me. Eventually, we got up and went to bed, snuggling down together and drifting off to sleep. About 2:00 or so, I heard a commotion outside, and got up to see what was going on. I looked out my kitchen window, and saw that lights were on in Meg's home, and at least two police officers were standing outside her house. I quickly went back into the bedroom, and pulled on a pair of pants and a shirt. I started to leave, then decided to wake Meg so she was at least aware of what was going on. I woke Meg, and told her that something was going on at her house, and that the police were there. She turned quite pale and huddled down in the bedclothes. I told her that I would go find out what was going on, and asked her to just stay put. She agreed, and I went across the park to see if I could find out anything. I asked the officers what was going on, and was told that the alarm had gone off, and when they arrived they had seen someone inside through a window. They had knocked on the door, but received no reply, and were waiting for a sergeant to arrive. At that point another police car drove up, and as the officers walked up toward us, I noticed that a man's head was visible in one of the windows of Meg's home. The sergeant asked me if I knew the owner of the house, and I told him that she was at my home, that the house had previously been trashed, and that she was very much afraid that her ex-husband had done it. I told the officers that there was only the one door, and because it was a townhouse, there were only windows on two sides, instead of all four. As they were deciding how to get the intruder out of the home, one of the officers swore, and pointed at the house. There was an obvious fire going in one of the rooms, and in a minute flames could be seen through the kitchen window also. After a quick radio call to the fire department, they decided that they had to go in immediately and hope the intruder wasn't armed, or that they could get him before he got any of them. They burst through the front door with guns drawn (it looked almost like a TV show), and within a few minutes came out again with a struggling man. They handcuffed him, and got him into a patrol car. The fire department pulled up about this time, siren wailing, and several firefighters immediately went into Meg's house to start knocking down the fire. The sergeant asked me to please get Meg to see if she could identify the man in the patrol car. Meg must have been watching from my window, for she came out of the house, and very hesitantly came down to where the officers and I were. She was hugging herself, and very pale as she came up. When Meg and the sergeant got up to the patrol car, she kind of moaned a bit and backed away, looking like she was going to turn and run at any moment. She told the officer that it was her ex-husband, and that she was deathly afraid of him - which would have been obvious to anyone looking at her. I got Meg back into my house, sat her down, and just held her for a long time. Eventually, I got up and went back over to her house. The fire was out and the firemen were just in the process of packing up their gear and getting ready to leave. I walked through the house with one of them, and could see that the damage was not as bad as I had feared, but it was clear that Meg would not be able to stay there for quite some time. We locked the door, and I came back home. I told Meg what I knew, gave her a cup of hot chocolate, and we went back to bed. Meg did not seem to know what she wanted. At times she would want to be close and be held, at other times she seemed to want to be left completely alone. Eventually, however, she went back to sleep, and I followed shortly after. The next few weeks were absolute hell for Meg. She went to each of her ex's court appearances, and they were quite numerous. Before each scheduled appearance, Meg would get more and more nervous and tense, reverting back to her fearful personality. After he remained in jail (he was being held without bail) each time, she would relax more, and start to come alive again. The cycles were really telling on her, she lost weight and got dark circles under her eyes. Her ex had been appointed a pubic defender, and after a couple of appearances, the attorney had asked for a psychiatric evaluation of his client. Things went back and forth, but the ultimate upshot of all of this, was that the judge found that he was too crazy to assist his attorney in his defense. As such, he was sent to a mental institution, where he would be treated until such time as he regained his sanity. The district attorney explained to us that he would simply be locked up in a psychiatric ward until he regained enough of his sanity to be able to assist his attorney in his defense. If or when that happened, he would be brought back to court, and then the criminal proceeding would continue. The bottom line he told us, is that it was quite doubtful that he would be out on the streets for many, many years, if ever. Meg seemed to get more relief from this than I thought possible. The shadows in her eyes disappeared almost immediately, and she became much more her new, bouncy self. Our love making that night was quite passionate, and she seemed well on her way to recovery. I had to leave town for a few days to work with a client that I had been putting off until after the court appearance. Meg was busy with her work, as well as getting her home repaired and working through the insurance paperwork. I returned late one afternoon, and Meg met me at the door with a big hug and kiss, and seemed to be just absolutely full of life. I had never seen her quite so bouncy and lively. She made us drinks, and we talked about many things as we drank them, but she seemed to have something special in mind, as she seemed to just bubble. As we were finishing our second drink, she came over to me, gave me a long, lingering kiss, and told me to stay put as she had a surprise. She disappeared toward the back of the house, returning a few minutes later with a book in her hand. She knelt down on my lap, straddling my legs, opened the book and told me that she wanted us to try something new. With that she opened the book to a marked page and showed it to me. The book was a replacement for her "sex manual", and the portion she was showing me was a section dealing with anal sex. I was quite taken aback, as I had never even broached the subject with her, feeling that the last thing in the world she needed was to feel used by me. I probably flushed a bit, and asked her if she was sure she wanted to get into this. She told me that with her ex being found so crazy that he couldn't even go to trial, she was finally able to feel that she was not the crazy one, and that she wasn't being punished for something she had done. This didn't make a whole lot of sense to me, and I told her I really didn't understand what she was driving at. She smiled, kissed me, and told me that I didn't need to worry about it - she had dealt with her fears, and was healthy again. She put the book down, kissed me again, then begin to unbutton my shirt. I responded by starting to unbutton her blouse, and noticed that she wasn't wearing a bra. She arched her back, causing her breasts to stand up even more, and asked if I liked the first part of her present to me. I leaned forward and kissed her breasts, not saying a word, but letting my tongue and lips speak for me. We got up and went into the bedroom, shedding clothes as we went. The bed was already turned down, with the lights off, and two candles flickering on the bedside table. We fell into bed, kissing and running our hands over each other with increasing urgency. We were stimulating each other with virtually complete abandon, using our hands, mouths and tongues to give as much pleasure as we knew how. Meg had reached a climax, and I was trying to build her up to a second, when she sat up, reached into the drawer in the bedside table, and took out what appeared to be a tube of ointment. She told me that now was the time for our new experience. She opened the tube, smeared what seemed to be a lot of lubricant on me, then did the same to herself. She knelt down on the bed, pulling a pillow up to her stomach, and asked me to start slowly. I knelt between her legs, and positioned myself at her entrance like she wanted, then started pressing in gently. I told her that if any of this hurt, to tell me and we would stop immediately. She simply pushed back against me, and after a little more resistance, I suddenly slid into her a bit. Meg caught her breath, then pushed back against me a little harder. I slid further into her, and eventually eased myself all the way into her. I pulled out a bit, then pushed in again, slowly building up the rhythm. Meg begin to rock her hips, pushing back on me as I slid in, and pulling slightly away as I pulled out. Our tempo increased rather rapidly, and I reached my peak and fell over as she pushed back into me. We held that way for a few moments, then slipped down beside each other. I was utterly spent, and didn't have the energy to hardly move. We lay there for awhile, then Meg rolled over, told me that she thought that while this was not a replacement for normal sex, it definitely had it's possibilities. She sat up, and said, come on - let's go take a shower, and get dinner. We showered together, not talking a lot, but just enjoying being with each other. After we dried each other off, we put on our robes - Meg had a new robe that was not the neck to ankle one she had been wearing - and went out to the kitchen to get dinner. As we were eating, Meg told me that she had arranged for the last of the repairs to her home, and they would be done in another week. My heart sank, as this meant that she would be moving back into her own home shortly. Then she grinned, and told me that she had also put the house up for sale today, "I thought that we seem to have a very good thing going, and if you don't mind, we could continue living together for as long as both of us would like it." My face must have given her my answer, as she leaned over, kissed me and said; "I hope it is for a long, long time." --000— Meg picked me up at the hospital to take me home, and although I could tell from her voice that she was quite upset, she wasn't as upset as I was. Meg and I had been living together for several months, ever since she sold her home and came to live with me. Life had been wonderful. We shared the cooking and cleaning, consoled each other when things went poorly, celebrated together when things went well, and generally had the kind of relationship that every couple should have. Meg still had to travel on occasion, as did I, and the time away from each other only seemed to enhance the time we had together, and allowed us to appreciate the each other even more. Meg seemed to have completely gotten over her fears resulting from the abusive relationship she had been in, and had blossomed into a wonderful, alive woman. Our sexual relationship had become absolutely wonderful, each of us feeling free to ask for what we would like, with the other free to say no, or not this time. Life simply couldn't have been better. I had come home from meeting with a client, and as I was walking up to the door, I had seen a police cruiser driving slowly down our street. I didn't think anything of it, as our neighborhood had been always been patrolled fairly frequently, I just noted it, opened my front door and stepped in. That was the last thing I remembered until I woke up in the hospital. My head felt as though someone had bashed in my face. I tried to open my eyes, but they didn't seem to work, and even though I was quite woozy, I started to panic. I put my hands to my face, and felt nothing but bandages. I heard a strange female voice saying something that I really couldn't comprehend, then someone took my hands and gently tried to pull them away from my face. I was too shaky and confused to struggle, and eventually I found that someone was holding my hands, and crying. Someone was also talking, but I couldn't seem to make myself understand what she saying. Eventually I came out of the fog enough to understand that there were actually two people in the room - Meg and another woman, apparently a nurse. As I gradually became less and less foggy, the voices started to make some sense to me, and I tried to ask what had happened. It took me several tries before I could make my mouth and tongue work well enough to actually make clear what I was trying to say. Both women begin trying to tell me what was going on - the nurse trying to tell me that I was doing fine, and that everything would be all right, and Meg telling me that she loved me, and that she was so sorry. It was still like finding my way through a bad dream, where nothing responded like it should, but eventually I got the gist of what had happened.