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Sonder

By: LaRascasse



sonder

n. the realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own - populated with their own ambitions, friends, routines, worries and inherited craziness - an epic story that continues invisibly around you like an anthill sprawling deep underground, with elaborate passageways to thousands of other lives that you'll never know existed, in which you might appear only once, as an extra sipping coffee in the background, as a blur of traffic passing on the highway, as a lighted window at dusk.

(Source -- The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows)

* *

John Mendel was on the verge of falling asleep. The late nights he worked in the lab were finally catching up to him. Work made his muscles ache and he was slowly developing a disgust for anything remotely resembling a centrifuge.

He stretched his limbs on the subway, wondering what his parents would think if they knew about the hours he kept lately. Early to bed, early to rise was no longer an option as the biotech company he researched for wanted results faster than proper science would allow it. His eyelids drooped, almost touching the cavernous bags underneath.

The PA system announced his station as the next one, startling him back to reality. His legs expended a lot of effort getting upright, craving nothing more than the somnolence a soft mattress could impart. All his muscles yearned for the same, except his heart which only wanted to see Alyssa again.

"Ah Alyssa!" he exhaled, letting his mind drift to the last time he had spent a meaningful amount of time with her. It was so long ago that he had to think back a long way. He remembered every part of his girlfriend's flawless body. The way she danced from the door of the bedroom all the way to his bed, doing a little pirouette like a ballerina. It was the most sensual sight imaginable.

"Alyssa is one of a kind," mused John, getting out at his stop. It was afternoon, after two straight days of being cooped up in the lab. Normally, John got home in time to see her curled under the covers. He was so happy at getting home early for once that he even tipped the violinist at the gate for his discordant attempt at entertainment.

There was a spring in his step, belying the tiredness everywhere else. He desperately wanted to get back to his apartment. For the moment, it was a small three room affair in the West Village.

"Just till the end of this project," he said to himself, flashing a wide smile at the beat patrol taking two sandwiches from the mobile van outside his building. They looked at each other, confused, but smiled and waved back.

John hummed all the way to the stairs and took them two at a time. His cheer took the other tenants by surprise. He patted his foot rhythmically while extracting his key from amidst the jumble of loose change and other tidbits in his pocket. He opened the door with a flourish, almost simultaneously yelling out. "Honey! Guess who finally got a break off work?"

The words left his mouth, but hung in the air. His eyes went wide, trying its best to block out the visual which burnt into his incredulous mind. It couldn't be true. It just couldn't.

And yet, his traitorous eyes continued to show him the love of his life, Alyssa, cavorting naked on the couch with his older, married neighbour. She shrieked at the unexpectedly early return and grabbed a cushion to hide her luscious, sweaty body. The other man rolled off the couch, holding onto the cabinet for support. His meaty cock hung between his legs, still dripping cum.

"John, I'm so sorry."

John finally found some movement in his legs. He crossed the living room in three strides, landing a stunning punch on the surprised man's face. The impact sent him reeling and he clattered to the ground, breaking the coffee table on his way down. Alyssa screamed hysterically.

"Please, John. I swear it was a one time thing. He means nothing to me."

John wasn't even aware of her existence any longer. He was barely conscious of a strange woman tugging on his arm, but the woman he fell in love with had died. He ignored the pull and went about packing a few essential things into his duffel bag.  

"John. Please don't go. Please, I beg you. Yell at me, scream at me, hit me if you want, but don't go."

The bag was almost packed. He retrieved his wallet and some cash from his drawer. Slinging the bag over his free shoulder, he began to make his way to the door, oblivious to the grovelling being hanging off him.

"I love you, John. You're the only man I've ever had feelings for. Please don't leave me alone."

John threw her off and sprinted down the stairs. His mind was numb and his body was on auto-pilot. The only thing keeping any part of him moving was the singular desire to get as far away from Alyssa.

Go where? He hadn't the foggiest idea.

He rushed out and didn't stop running. The same patrol cops he saw earlier stared at the duffel wielding figure running away from them. Everything about him looked so drastically different from twenty minutes ago, when they saw him for the first time.

John Mendel did not stop. Cars, buses, other pedestrians vaguely registered in his peripheral vision but he kept running. Running away from a life he loved. The only souvenir he had from that life was a broken heart.

* *

"What's gotten into him?" asked Shawn Kenefick, staring at the man running away from them, his duffel bag swinging from side to side. He looked at his partner who shrugged back in response.

"Beats me," said Kay, taking a large bite out of her sandwich. The cheese covered tender beef almost melted in her mouth.

"Let's get back to the patrol car," said Shawn. Kay agreed, finishing of her snack before she slipped into the passenger seat. Immediately, she reached over and pulled Shawn towards her face for a kiss. Their lips met for a few seconds before he drew back.

"Not here, Kay," he said with a broad smile. "There are other cops nearby and I don't want anybody finding out about us just yet."

"Wimp," shot back Kay, rolling her eyes. "No one ever enforces those no-fraternization rules and I'm hardly going to report you for sexual harassment. From what I've seen over the past month, I have to initiate it all."

"So the plot thickens," drawled Shawn with a devious chuckle. "I have gone from the harasser to the harassee."

"Don't be such a dweeb," retorted Kay, with a playful punch to his arm. "Find us a nice quiet alleyway where we can have a quick fuck behind the dumpster."

Shawn actually took a moment to look at his partner while his brain processed her request. Kay Wilcox was a walking paradox. On one hand, she looked slim, beautiful and took great pains to keep herself that way. Conversely, she drank copious amounts of beer while cheering for the Giants and casually used curses which would make a sailor blush. She was manlier than all the male rookies combined.

Kay looked at his wondering gaze with a raised eyebrow. Finally, she was fed up enough to spit out with some venom. "Fine, at least let's make out in the car, or is that too much for Mister Catholic?"

Unsurprisingly, Shawn yielded to this tempting offer. He drove around a few corners before he found an abandoned warehouse. The loading bay was still intact with high walls on either side. Carefully and inconspicuously, he backed into the sheltered path.

Scarcely had the car halted, than Kay seized the opening and mashed her lips against Shawn's. There was a raw, almost primal hunger within her and she exuded a desperate arousal from every pore of her body. He kissed her back, albeit with much less ferocity. Their tongues slurped and lapped against each other. She felt her body heat up and a spark traverse through her nervous system, lighting up every nerve ending it passed through.

The combined effect of the kiss and the semi-public setting was potent. Shawn soon gave in to the thrill and let his hands wander down the back of Kay's uniform. Their lips parted for a brief moment while Kay frantically unbuttoned her front. He gazed hungrily on her ample bosom, laid out for his viewing pleasure. Her bra struggled to contain the milky white orbs.

"Need an invitation, Shawn?" she asked coyly. Shawn immediately wrapped his hands around her back and dipped his face into her cleavage. She giggled and held the back of his head with one hand, letting the other explore the rapidly hardening bulge on the front of his pants. There was a sound if unzipping followed by her hands stroking his cock through nothing more than flimsy underwear. She looked at him, her eyes sparkling mischievously while her slim fingers slipped within his elastic and encircled his pulsing shaft.

"Dispatch calling all available units. Robbery in progress at a jewellery store on the corner of Bleecker and Hudson. Respond immediately."

"You have to be kidding me!" spat out Kay vehemently. Shawn groaned too, unhappy that their steamy session was going to have to be curtailed because an idiot decided to steal some jewellery to pay for his next batch of drugs.

"I swear I'm going to shoot this guy when we catch him," he said, speeding onto the main road. Kay took the microphone and relayed their position to dispatch.

"Better button yourself up again," said Shawn with a wink. "Wouldn't want our robber getting the wrong idea."

"That would be a tragedy," she groaned, fixing her appearance.

The cruiser cut through traffic. Shawn barely missed two other vehicles and jaywalkers before the car came to a halt on the pavement in front of the jewellery store. They got out and placed a tentative hand on their holsters, checking to see if the robber was still inside.

Slowly, Shawn led the way through the steel doors. They found the petrified owner standing behind two shattered display cases. There were shards of glass all over the floor.

"There's only one robber. He went out the back door," came his reply. He was still shaking from his experience when he pointed to the open door. The silent alarm under the table was his saviour.

"Cover me," Shawn blurted out, drawing his weapon. Kay nodded and did the same, following a few feet behind him. They walked to the door carefully, checking all the angles outside for any movement.

Shawn went ahead, scanning the alley. The high brick tenements on either side cast long shadows, making it difficult to determine any movement. He used all his training and went slowly, careful to ensure that all possible angles were checked at every step.

A shot rang out from the far end of the alley, embedding itself in the wall to his right. He immediately took cover behind a dumpster, crouching alongside Kay. She shot a quick glance out the side.

"Shots fired. In pursuit of a suspect heading East down 12th," said Kay into her radio. They emerged from behind the dumpster and resumed their chase. Turning right at the next intersection, they caught a glimpse of the suspect rushing into the adjacent alley.

"That's a blind alley. We got him."

Shawn stood against the wall, peering in to the alley. There were several empty crates and boxes inside. Their robber could be hiding behind any of them.

"You hang back," he whispered to Kay, turning into the alley with his gun raised. Quickly, he hid behind a protruding section of the wall and waited for his adversary to make the first move. Barely a few seconds later he saw the desperate robber jump out from behind a crate and open fire. Deftly, Shawn dived to the side and fired his own gun, getting his man squarely in the middle of his chest. He crumpled and fell, his lungs expelling their last bits of air.

"We got him," he said with a relieved smile and turned around. His relief quickly turned to horror when he saw Kay lying at the mouth of the alley. He scrambled over and saw her spread-eagled on the asphalt, bleeding out of her front. The red pool gradually grew around her body, seeping out of her stomach.

"Shots fired. Officer down. Send an ambulance as fast as you can," he blurted into his radio.

His eyes stayed on Kay's. He tried to limit the bleeding by pressing his arm down on the wound, but it was of no use. The blood flowed out relentlessly.

"Don't you die on me now, Kay," he wailed, feeling her warm blood flow onto his hands. "Hang in there."

"It's okay, Shawn," she said with a smile. "There was nothing you could do."

She coughed horribly, expelling more blood from her mouth. Some of that blood stained her beautiful blonde hair splayed across the road. A few passers by encircled the scene, gasping at the horror of what they saw.

"Promise me one thing," she said, coughing out some more blood. "Promise me you'll get over this and go back to being a good cop."

Shawn nodded, barely understanding her words over the rush of blood pounding in his ears. Everything else blacked out around him, except for Kay's supine form. Grief would come later. For the moment, shock and devastation filled his mind with a chilling emptiness.

The ambulances rushed to the scene and the paramedics came out. They thrust Kay onto a gurney and began their attempts at reviving her, but Shawn knew it was too late. Too much of her blood stained the road.

As much as he wanted to go in the ambulance with Kay and hold her hand for as long as it was still warm, he knew he had a duty as a police officer to secure the crime scene and wait for the detectives, forensics and others to reach the alley.

It was what a good cop would do and he had promised Kay nothing less.

* *

"Keep applying pressure on the wound," said Bridget desperately. Her older partner felt the bleeding victim's neck for a pulse.

"Bridget, stop. There's no pulse," he said, checking his watch. "Time of death -- 1:35 pm."

Bridget Klein both hated and loved her job. As a paramedic, she was often first on the scene of accidents and other life-threatening situations. It was the decisions she made everyday that helped save lives. She ensured they reached the hospital, where they would have a fighting chance. Then again, there were the other occasions when she saw the light go out of someone's eyes. Every night, she prayed that the former would greatly outweigh the latter.

Even so, it was difficult to come to terms with the death of the young police officer. Her mind told her that she had lost too much blood to survive the journey to the hospital, but her heart never quite came to grips with the sight of her dead in the ambulance.

"So young," she muttered to herself, stroking the officer's bloody hair. She put her palm over her eyes and closed her lids. Once earlier, she had left the glassy eyes open, staring into space and the vivid memory of it had not let her sleep for days.

The ambulance came to a halt at the NYU hospital. They were greeted by some eager doctors, but quickly confirmed their worst fears. The only place the police officer was going was the morgue.

"Try not to beat yourself up over it," said Bridget's partner with a pat on the back. "Talk to Luke, okay? Don't be alone tonight."

She nodded vaguely and walked off. The bitterness of her existence crept out through every pore. The paramedic's uniform weighed heavy on her. She had not eaten since the beginning of her early morning shift, but she her appetite was gone. She dared not sleep, so as not to see the ghastly visual of the young police officer's dying moments again.

"Get a grip, Bridget. You see people die everyday," she thought to herself. She called the first number one her speed dial, needing to hear her boyfriend's calm, soothing words to give her a measure of peace.

"Hi, this is Luke Gantry. Leave a message and I'll get back to you the second I can."

She held the phone to her ear for a few silent seconds before the call dropped. The voicemail had his rich baritone, but it lacked his caring and empathy. She needed both as soon as possible. She sat down on an empty bench in the hospital waiting room. Her eyes welled up with tears which she quickly wiped. Medical personnel were supposed to be hardened to the point of being unaffected by what they saw everyday.

"Hi, this is Luke Gantry. Leave a message and I'll get back to you the second I can."

"Maybe he's finally decided to dump me," she mused, getting up and slinking towards the locker room for a change of clothes. "Not that I can blame him."

She folded her uniform neatly and put it inside. The mirror on the adjacent locker wall gave her a quick glimpse of her body. Her tanned skin seemed stretched across her angular face. People sometimes complimented her figure, with a special word of praise for her slender waist and plump ass. All in all, she was reasonably attractive.

However "reasonably attractive" never gets to date "smoking hot". Luke Gantry fell into the latter category. He was a year older to her and several rungs higher on the dating ladder. The mere sight of him in the corridors made female students go weak-kneed. His megawatt smile was enough to light up a classroom. Not only that, he was also one of the most intelligent and respected lecturers in his department. His students remained captivated in every class he took.

She sighed and slid her top over her jeans, hastily applying a dash of make-up. If only there was a make-up to cover how she felt, how insecure she was.

Every time Luke stood in the doorway to the lecture hall, he had a bevy of female students surrounding him and talking animatedly. Some of them had strategically displaced tops and others decided to do away with the concept of underwear in the hopes of enticing their lecturer. He smiled and talked amiably, not rebuffing them until they took it too far.

Bridget felt familiar pangs of inferiority as she walked towards the main building. The women she passed were so much hotter than her, so much more desirable, so much more like the kind of women that Luke deserved to be with.

"Hi, this is Luke Gantry. Leave a message and I'll get back to you the second I can."

Now, Bridget was beginning to worry. She couldn't help it. Her daily trips around Lower Manhattan exposed her to the fates that could befall anyone at any time. Sitting in the safety of his own lab, Luke could get hurt, or worse die, in an accident. She kept persuading herself it was an irrational fear and he was probably just busy, but her tingling nervous system refused to listen.

She got on the elevator, terrified for no apparent reason. Her neuroses was worse than ever when it came to someone she loved. Bridget was abnormally clingy, terrified to let her boyfriend out of her sight, even to cross the road because she was afraid of what would happen to him. A trip to the convenience store represented fifteen different ways he could get hurt, so she insisted on accompanying him.

"Hi, this is Luke Gantry. Leave a message and I'll get back to you the second I can."

It was no wonder that she couldn't get a steady boyfriend. No one could tolerate her vice-like grip on their lives. Each of them lasted just long enough to break her heart when they left and she blamed herself each time.

The elevator stopped and Bridget exited, along with the rush of students. She walked through the long corridor towards the main lecture hall of the Computer Science department, ignoring the incessant chatter from both sides. Her heart thudded against her chest as she stood a fair distance from the door.

After what seemed an eternity to her, the wide double doors opened and a horde of students streamed out, animatedly chatting with each other. She waited patiently for the crowd to thin out until there remained a handful of people. Luke came out, discussing something with a leggy blonde student. Bridget looked on, fearful of getting any closer should she hear something she didn't like.

Luke saw her out of the corner of his eye and sent his student on her way. He walked to her, a broad grin visible under his cheerful eyes.


Sonder



"Bridget!" he said in an airy tone. "You're a sight for sore eyes."

"Why didn't you answer your phone?" she snapped. "You know how much I worry when you don't answer your phone."

"I didn't expect my lecture to go on for so long," he answered with a smile, walking Bridget down the corridor. "We were so engrossed that no one noticed I had almost taken up an extra hour."

Bridget took a few deep breaths to calm her fraught nerves. She wrapped her arm around Luke's and held on tightly.

"I'm sorry for snapping at you earlier. You know how much I love you, right?" she said, craning her neck up for a kiss. Luke lowered his smile to her lips and gave her a soft peck.

"How about I grab a change of clothes and meet you at Pierre's for lunch?" he said. "Or do you think something bad will happen to me on my way to the locker room?"

"Quit it, will you?" she yelled, blushing furiously. "See you in fifteen."

Bridget felt her worries dissipate when she walked out of the main building. Pierre's was a French bistro on the edge of the university campus. It's entire patronage consisted of students, faculty and other staff from the campus.

To her surprise, Luke had booked a table for them. The waiter showed her in and she waited patiently. Her eyes darted to the door and then to the other patrons.

The first time she saw Luke actually made her gasp aloud. He wore a suit and tie. His stride had an air of elegance, sophistication and yet, simplicity. Bridget quickly looked around to see how many eyeballs were on her boyfriend. He sat down opposite her.

"Before we order anything, we need to talk," she said in a small voice. It was something she was scared of, but had convinced herself to do. Luke leaned in and listened.

"Luke, I'm sorry for snapping at you earlier. Actually, I'm sorry for all the times I've clung onto you too hard. The thing is, I love you, I really do. You're the first guy I met who could make me smile any time he wants. You put up with my neurotic whims and insecurities. I can't bear the thought of you leaving."

She took a deep breath and went on.

"But I can't bear the thought of you unhappy either. I know I'm not as pretty as some of the other girls you used to date, but I'm trying. I go to the gym whenever I get the chance, so I can look better beside you. You think I don't know what your family thinks of me. I do," Bridget went on. "Your mother doesn't think I'm mature enough and I heard your sisters talking at Thanksgiving about how you deserve better, and you do. I'm trying to be better for you, so that you won't stop loving me."

"What are you trying to say?" Luke asked, worry clouding his chiselled features.

"What I'm saying is..." she said, biting her lip. "Will you please let me down easily before you move on? That's all."

"You're beautiful, Bridget. I don't know why you don't see it, but you are."

She sniffled into her handkerchief. Luke signalled to the waiter to bring some champagne. Soon, there were two tall flutes on the table filled to the brim with bubbling champagne.

"Let's make a toast," he said, raising his glass. "To Bridget Klein, the most beautiful woman in the world."

"Flatterer," she smirked, clinking the flutes. She was about to take a sip from the champagne when she froze. Her eyes opened wide and her breathing began heavy and laboured. Every inch of her skin rippled and her heart rate went through the roof. Her mind boggled, staggering under the weight of what her disbelieving eyes saw.

At the bottom of her flute, clouded by the champagne it was immersed in, her eyes could make out the hazy outline of a ring.

Her head snapped up as she looked at Luke. He grinned broadly and rose from his seat. Time stood perfectly still while he stepped forward and got on one knee. He tried to say the words, but Bridget placed a finger on his lips and whispered. "Yes."

For the first time in her life, Bridget knew that everything was going to be all right.

* *

Tom Manney sat at his own table, sipping some coffee while browsing a research paper on his Kindle. The commotion across the bistro distracted him. He raised his weary eyes to see his lecturer kissing his girlfriend and everybody around them applauding.

"It's good to have someone who loves you," he thought with a smile as everyone else settled down. He continued doing some more research on his thesis, intermittently taking a sip of the steaming coffee. His mind remained completely dissociated from the chatter all around him. It was a skill that had served him well before -- the ability to be alone in a crowd.

He liked being alone. Solitude meant no distractions from his work. He could give his undivided attention to the problems at hand. Minutes ticked by in an invisible rhythm. He checked his watch, it was five. It was time for him to trudge back to his empty apartment.

Most thesis students only stayed as long as they were needed and continued their reference work from the comfort of their homes. Tom made it a point to stay till five every day. He had a good reason.

The subway station was barely two blocks from Pierre's. Tom walked briskly, acknowledging some of his fellow academics, whom he met along the way, with a perfunctory nod. He was sure that several of them wondered what exactly made him such an introvert. These thoughts mingled in his head until he found himself standing on the platform, waiting for the next train.

He checked his watch to confirm the time, then scanned to his left and right. The beauty of regular trains was that they essentially have the same group of people getting on every day. As expected, there were many students waiting to board, along with some office goers and a few non-regulars. Tom looked at the waiting throng, running his eyes over them individually. There was a rustle of clothes and hurried footsteps and he saw a girl stand a few feet to his left, just as the train drew up.

They doors opened and regurgitated a mass of humanity onto the platform. Tom waited patiently until the last of the exiting passengers had left before he took his favoured seat near the door. Regular subway travellers tend to be creatures of habit. They sit or stand at the same place. Sure enough, he saw the girl from before leaning against the metal wall and texting away furiously. He saw her every day, on every trip home.

The train lurched forward and began to move. Tom pretended to scratch his stubble, but continued staring in her direction. She had medium length black hair with an assortment of beads and clips clinging to them. Her lipstick and eyeliner were roughly the same shade of black and she wore a Harley Davidson jacket over her top. The gothic look was completed by a small piercing on the corner of her mouth.

The train picked up a steady speed and she stopped typing, instead pulling out her earphones and plugging them into her phone. Tom watched her head rock back and forth in beat with her music along with one foot tapping it out on the floor.

Looking at her on the way back was Tom's daily ritual. He was so engrossed in it that he casually put a few notes into an open hat for a subway guitarist as he went past, without even counting how much he gave. His eyes glazed over and all seemed right with the world, watching her snap her fingers in rhythm with her beat. She looked around and did a quick air-guitar solo thinking no one saw her. He loved it when she did that.

"Careful. You're one step away from being a stalker," he thought and chuckled inwardly. It was true. He didn't even know her name. Looking at her from his seat was the closest Tom got to her.

"I'll talk to her today."

Several days went with the same promise. Tom was sure it would be the day he finally introduced himself. He was on the verge of rising from his seat when his brain pushed him back down.

"Yeah and what exactly will you say? Hi, you probably don't even know I exist but I stare at your tight ass everyday on my ride back home. Sounds like a real winner."

He clenched his fingers into a fist. The frustration of it all was maddening. Merely introducing himself to her seemed like a herculean task. Each time he found the words, his courage failed him.

"Hi, I'm Tom. Nice to meet you."

"That would never work."

"Hi, I notice that we travel the same route every weekday and I want to know you better."

"Do you want a kick in the groin that badly?"

Several more permutations and combinations of an introduction flashed in his mind, each of them dismissed by his rational brain. He looked up at her again, smiling at something she saw on her phone. In that moment, his hands yearned to hold her and feel close to her. His lips wanted to explore the body, hidden underneath the leather jacket. For a fleeting instance, frozen in time between two intervals of normalcy, he wanted nothing more than to simply hold her hand.

The PA announced that Tom's changeover station had arrived. Reluctantly, he dragged his body off the seat and left, stealing one last glance of his subway fantasy. His eyes remained on her from outside until the train left, taking his dream with it. The ride on the other train was uneventful. He used the time to peruse some more reference material.

Half an hour later, Tom finally reached his apartment and threw his bag down on the couch. He yawned and stretched at a day's worth of tiredness. He would begin his work soon enough, allowing his mind the luxury of lingering on "subway girl" for a few more seconds.

"I don't even know her name," he thought wistfully. "But I'm sure it's something pretty."

Some day he would know her name. Some day he would hold her face in his hands and kiss her lips. Some day he would not go to bed alone.

And he will wait for that day, even if that day never comes.

* *

Craig Fraser's fingers were tired from strumming. The last few notes took a lot of effort. He walked through the subway car, smiling at people on either side while his wife, Darlene, held out a large hat to collect whatever they were kind enough to give.

It was a slow day. Apart from one obviously distracted student who tipped generously, the couple had few other takers for their music. The late night train rumbled back to the station nearest to their temporary home and disembarked. Darlene took the jumble of notes and coins from the hat and gave it back to Craig.

"We have enough for a couple of sandwiches from a deli," Darlene said hopefully. "Or would you like to try your luck at the soup kitchen?"

"Nah, we'll only get leftovers again," he replied.

They walked into the cold night, not wearing nearly enough. The biting air numbed their exposed extremities. Darlene rubbed her hands and blew into them. Craig wrapped his arm over her shoulder and held her close, trying to share some warmth.

"Do you remember where you left the car?" she asked, hugging him tightly.

He nodded and led her across the road. The dim street lights showed the outlines of people rushing to and fro, lit by the occasionally headlight of a passing car. There were several back alleys and abandoned tenements, lit by trash-can fires of the resident homeless population. Craig walked past a few alleys, seeing the homeless fighting over dumpster remains before he found the one he was looking for.

Their Camry was backed up against the back wall. Craig opened the door and let his wife in. She turned on the heater.

"I'll go get some sandwiches. You keep warm, all right?" he said. Darlene nodded and turned on the heater just enough to take the edge off the cold. She was mindful of not using up the fuel too fast. They were still a few days short of saving up enough to buy some more.

She leaned back against the rough seat, thinking about all the events that had led to this state in her life. Too many circumstances went against them, conspiring to put them in their current state.

"Whatever else I might lose, I'll always have Craig," she said to herself with a smile. Her smile grew wider when Craig returned with a brown paper bag.

"I thought you played really well tonight," Darlene said, taking a turkey sandwich from the bag.

"I can think of hundreds of passengers who would beg to differ," he grinned. "In fact, we might not have gotten anything without your charming looks."

They exchanged a hearty laugh and kissed. The sandwiches were soon disposed of and they snuggled into each other, watching the street outside. The number of cars subsided and the late night occupants of the streets came out, dressed appropriately skimpily to attract potential johns.

Darlene was not ashamed to admit that there came a time she flirted with the idea herself.

"I've got some good news, honey," Craig spoke up, wiping his face of the last bits of food. "When I was at the deli, the owner offered me an off-the-books delivery job. It's not much, but it's something. It would mean you can get some more rest, which you need now more than ever."

"But the subway travellers like my pretty face," she pouted. "You said so yourself."

"We'll work the subway on the weekends, okay?" he said. "It's been two weeks since we found out. Soon, you'll be in no shape to walk for hours on end through train compartments."

"Honey, I'm pregnant. I'm not a cripple."

"I know that," he said, kissing her forehead. "We'll go see the doctor at the free clinic on Morton tomorrow morning. I've heard he's a nice guy and does regular free check-ups."

"Look at you, always taking such good care of me," she said. Her gaze drifted outside the window to the brick wall. Craig watched her staring obscurely for a few seconds before asking.

"Something wrong, Darlene?"

"It's..." she started tersely. Craig put his arm around and leaned in, his face ashen with worry. She turned to face him, the hint of moisture in her beautiful green eyes. "Should we have this baby?"

Craig looked at her, trying to discern her thought process. This was one of the times when the gritty reality of their situation eclipsed the happy illusion that love alone could sustain them.

"I mean, what can we give this baby?" she said. "Living in a car and feeding off scraps. Is that any life? Nobody deserves to be born into this."

"Honey, you've wanted to be a mother from as far back as I can remember. What happened?"

"I don't know anymore," Darlene sobbed. "I just don't know."

"Shhh," Craig calmed her and stroked her hair. "With the new job at the deli we can finally get a place to stay in the projects. It's not much, but it beats this. Our baby will have a home."

She looked up into his eyes and saw a serene calm, belying their existential struggle. She had fallen in love with this man and wouldn't change that for the world.

"Don't let me go," she whimpered, clutching him tightly.

Craig reached down and kissed her full red lips. She smiled and kissed him on either cheek and down his neck while he softly nuzzled her hair.

"Remember the first date I took you on?" he smiled. "It was in this car itself. We went to your favourite pizza place and then to a grassy embankment to look at the stars."

"We did more than count stars that night," she said with a twinkle in her eye. "Right in this backseat if I'm not wrong."

"It was a different world then. Sometimes, I like to go to sleep with you in this very backseat and imagine it wasn't so." He looked deep into her eyes again, the faint light casting a shadow over half her face.

Darlene's kisses were becoming more intense. Her lips pressed onto his skin, creating a wet trail down his neck. Craig reached down to her waist and helped lift her dress off. Her pale skin and luscious breasts came to view. He dropped his head and kissed each nipple tenderly. She moaned when he let his fingers slip into the waistband of her pants at the same time.

They stopped and she lay down on the backseat, with Craig on top of her. His lips explored her torso while her fingers massaged her nipples. She wrapped her legs around his waist and drew him to her. He undid her pants and let his fingers find her damp sex. They caressed the labia, tracing a long line from the bottom to the engorged clit on top which he rubbed with his thumb, making her gasp with rising pleasure.

She wrestled with the button of his trousers in the semi-darkness for a few minutes. Finally, he was able to lower them enough to take out his erect member. Her hungry gaze was arrested by the alluring outline of his endowment. He parted her legs and pushed into her, making her eyes go wide with the first thrust.

Holding the driver's seat for support, he pulled back and plunged deep into her, gradually finding a rhythm. She pushed her hand down and arched upwards to meet his thrusts. Eddies of pleasure radiated through her, glowing with the light of a million fireflies dancing under her skin. She felt a familiar warmth engulfing her, getting hotter by the instant. The heat went all the way to her core, acutely aware of the increasing tempo of the thrusts into her needy opening.

Higher and higher her arousal went, peaking for an instant before flooding her body with a blissful feeling of satisfaction. Darlene's full breasts heaved with every heavy breath her tired lungs took. She rolled to her side, curling her naked skin against Craig. He caressed her neck all the way to her cheek and back, peering upwards through the window to see a myriad of stars blanketing the night.

"Maybe it's all a bad dream," he thought. "Maybe we will wake up in that grassy hill, staring up at the stars."

He closed his eyes again, dreaming of a time when he first made love under the starlight.

* *

"Now remember, Laura," said the older woman. "This man comes to New York once every couple of weeks or so on business. If he likes you, you can be his regular. The other girls say he tips well on his way out.

Laura Hadley understood. The woman personally put the finishing touches on her make-up, colouring a dark hue over her eyelids. Her fiery red hair was neatly done into curled tresses which stroked her bare shoulders.

"I'll leave you for a moment to get ready," said the woman, walking towards the door. "Come when I call you."

Laura looked at the mirror again. There was so much red -- from her blazing hair to the unnaturally deep shade of lipstick to her dress. Even more swathes of red constituted her garish make-up. All that colour failed to hide her abject despair. She fiddled with her fingers for some time, steeling herself for the eventuality that was coming her way all too soon.

"What other choice do I have?" she thought, her mind immediately picturing the scores of homeless people in the backroads and footpaths outside. Before she entered through the side door of the club, she even saw a couple sleeping peacefully in the backseat of their car. Maybe she could live like that.

"But what about Chris?"

That was all the motivation she needed. Her resolve tightened and she knew what she had to do. She waited impatiently for the madam to return, so she could at least get it over with fast. Soon enough, there were the tell-tale footfalls approaching the door followed by the sound of the heavy metal hinges turning.

"Come with me," beckoned the proprietor. She followed, clicking her heels against the cobbled floor. They walked down a spiral staircase into the sub-basement where the illegal underbelly of the club thrived.

"I'm sure you already know this -- the confidentiality of your client is of paramount importance. Our entire establishment is built on discretion. One stray whisper and all that money you've been earning of late goes up in smoke. Also, try to do whatever he says. I have a guard stationed outside every door. If you yell out your safe word or press the panic button, he will intervene. The panic button is on the headboard of the bed, so you should be able to press it even if you're tied down. Do you follow?"




Sonder



Laura nodded. The woman walked her past several closed wooden doors until she reached the appropriate one. A large tattooed individual stood outside the door impassively.

"Laura," started the woman in a softer voice. "I know how hard this is going to be for you, so I fixed you up with Mr Paulson. He's an easy man to please and doesn't have a penchant for pain or any real kinks. All he needs is some attention and a few things his wife won't do any more and he'll be happy to leave you a sizeable tip. I'm sure you could use that."

She pursed her lips and looked at the young woman. Even for a street-hardened brothel owner, it was never an easy sight when a girl, barely past her teens, was forced into the world's oldest profession. It gave her some solace knowing she had taken young Laura under her wing.

"Chris is counting on you," were her parting words. "Remember that."

She smiled, all too aware of the last fact. The sentinel opened the door and stepped back. Inside there was a four poster bed with transparent satin hanging from the wooden spires. The bed itself was spacious and covered with a svelte red cover.

"Hi," said a voice to her right, startling her for a moment. She turned her head to see a man with a round face and thinning hair. The man seemed more nervous than her.

"Hello, Mr Paulson."

"Please, call me Neil," he said. "As you may have guessed, I'm new to this and haven't yet gotten the hang of it entirely."

"Here, sit down," said Laura, patting the bed beside her. "Let's talk first. Tell me about yourself."

"I'm an executive for a Miami based consultancy. I've been married for ten years and have two gorgeous children. Despite what you may think of me, I love my wife with all my heart. It's just that of late our sex life has come down to nothing. Between our jobs, we can hardly find the time and when we do, she's always too tired."

"I don't judge you. Look at me," she said plainly, putting her hand on his thigh. "I'm here to make your fantasy come true."

"I appreciate that, Miss..."

"Laura. Call me Laura," she said with a smile. "Now what do you wish your wife would do more often?"

"Well, it's a little embarrassing," Neil said, growing a shade redder. "During the first few years of our marriage, my wife would get on her knees and take me in her mouth. Do you think you could do that?"

"A blowjob?" Laura asked disbelievingly. All of the others wanted more.

"Yes, and it would be especially nice if you could take me in your throat. I love that feeling."

"Sure," said Laura and promptly knelt between Neil's legs. He fumbled with his belt and zipper. Within a few seconds, she was looking at his organ. It was of average length and girth, pulsing and throbbing with pent up desire. Sensuously, she encircled his shaft with one hand and began slowly jerking him off, leaving her free hand to cup his balls.

Neil threw his head back and let out a soft groan. Laura's eyes were fixed on the smooth head of the cock in front of her. She parted her lips and took the head into her mouth, letting her tongue brush over the sensitive part. His hands came down to her hair and pulled her head into his groin. She massaged his member with her tongue, running it along the underside and swirling it around the head repeatedly.

Her silky lips wrapped around the hard cock, coaxing pleasure out of it. She pulled the cock out and held it upright, running her gaze down the thick shaft. She stuck out her tongue and ran the very tip down a prominent vein, grazing the sensitive glans. She licked all the way down and back up before she turned her attention to his hanging balls. Laura took one in her mouth and swirled her tongue around the loose skin. She repeated the motion on the other, simultaneously using her fingers to brush his sensitive head. Her tender ministrations made him close his eyes and surrender himself to the awaiting pleasure. She took him back into her mouth again.

He slowly rocked his hips to and fro, sliding his cock into her warm, wet mouth. Her tongue slurped away and her fingers continued toying with his testes. Laura sensed that her client's climax was imminent. Taking a deep breath, she sucked all the way up the length of his cock until her face was pressed against his abdomen. He looked down at her with wide eyes as his turgid member nestled in her throat. There was a complete still for a few seconds until Laura felt hot semen dripping down her throat. Slowly, she slid the cock out, leaving a few white droplets of cum dribbling down her lips and chin.

"Wow.. that was.. I mean," the poor man spluttered incoherently for a few seconds. Laura immediately rose to her feet and planted a kiss on his lips. There was a hint of his own fluids in that kiss, but he didn't care.

"Thank you," he said. "Would it be too much to ask for you to do that again? I've got some Viagra."

"It would be my pleasure," Laura said.

Half an hour later, she left the room, counting a large wad of notes. The madam saw her out with a comforting pat on the shoulder. She took the subway, almost feeling the stares of all the strangers she passed. If she looked around, she could surely spot some who pointed and whispered.

After all, she was every inch the hooker she was dressed to be. So what if she didn't get her johns on street corners in the middle of the night. It didn't make her any less of a whore. She got off her at her station and walked to the nearby Apple store. All the while, the stares of random passers by remained firmly on her lithe body dressed in the embodiment of sluttiness. Such was her job requirement.

Laura almost smelt the condescension from the store clerk who gave her the iPad she wanted. She was sure he opined that no one should be allowed to buy Apple products using such ill-gotten gains.

She was getting pretty good at ignoring all the unsaid taunts and jibes. If only she could block out the stares too.

As she walked into her modest apartment complex, her first stop was the mail box. There was another woman passing through, who shot her a look dripping with judgement. She turned her head and watched Laura all the way to the end of the corridor, as if she was an alien entity.

Laura shrugged it off and unlocked her mailbox. There was the expected number of overdue bills, some of them with threatening red envelopes for emphasis. She carried them up the rickety elevator to her apartment. She rang the bell and waited outside. The door opened, revealing an older woman who gave her a wrinkly smile.

"Thanks for looking after Chris while I was gone, Mrs Delvecchio," Laura said sweetly, fishing into her pockets for some cash. The lady grabbed her slender hands.

"No need for that, dear. Chris was an angel," she replied. "Do you have enough now?"

"Yes, I do. I have enough to get started. I'll need more soon though."

"Well, I don't know how to say this..." began the old lady. "I have some money stashed somewhere. It's not much, but if you ever need it..."

"I wouldn't do that to you," said Laura, hugging her.

"God bless you, Laura," she said, wrapping her bony arms around her. "You probably know how everyone in the building has something to say about your activities, but I think you're the best among us. I can't think of anyone else who would do what you do."

Laura smiled and let the old lady out. Chris sat on the far side of the couch, playing with his toy cars. She crept into the bathroom and changed into something more comfortable before she walked up behind him and hugged him tightly. The mere sight of her brought a grin to his face.

"How's my little man today?" she asked, pulling his cheeks.

Chris giggled in response bumping his toys against one another. Normally, he should have thrown the toys out much earlier, but his autistic mind found a calm happiness clinging onto them.

"I've got something for you," she said, taking out the iPad and handing it to her pre-teen brother. She had downloaded one of the best apps for autistic children. It gave them a chance to play with colours and shapes, associating them with real world objects and words. Instantly, Chris went wild with the touch screen, creating a beautiful pattern of red and blue swirls and smiled at his handiwork.

"Thank you, sis," he said, kissing her on the cheek.

"That's not all. You can go back to school soon and meet your friends. I'm sure they miss you by now."

Momentarily, he took his eyes off the screen and looked at her. Laura smiled. There were times when she saw an explosion of happiness on his simple face and it made her daily struggle worth it.

"How you... money?"

Chris had intervals of remarkable perception. She cradled his face in her hands and looked at him tenderly. He was so precociously innocent that she had to be there for him.

"Mom and Dad sent it. Didn't I tell you?"

Chris' gaze went across the room to a picture on the mantelpiece. Laura saw him looking in that direction, so she went and fetched it. It was a picture of all four of them -- Chris, Laura and their parents. It was from their camping trip last year, before her parents were shot and carjacked on their way back from a restaurant.

"Where are they now?" he asked her. She bit her lip tersely before holding his hand.

"Follow me."

She led him to the open window. The starry night unfurled in all directions. She pointed up and said. "See that star over there? To the left of that triangle? That's where Mom and Dad have gone. They can see us from there. Wave to them."

Chris stuck his hand out and waved in the direction of the star.

"How did they send... money?"

Laura pondered over it for a second before blurting out. "They asked an angel to deliver it."

Spontaneously, Chris wrapped his arms around her waist. Laura was taken aback for a few seconds before she began running her fingers over his back, tracing long circles.

"Thank you, sis. They chose the right angel."

A second later, Chris may have felt a spot of wetness on his shoulder, right under his sister's eye. It was something she had held back all day and finally let past her defences because she couldn't help it any more.

Unknowingly, Chris had given her a gift too. Laura Hadley now had the courage to face her reality once again.

* *

"Calm down, Amy," said the older man. It had little effect on the tiny seething woman across the bed. "I'm sorry. You tell me, what could I have done?"

"You could have told your wife about us, for a change," spat out Amy, grabbing her dress off the chair. "Do you have any idea how much I was looking forward to our week long getaway to Vail?"

"I was looking forward to it too," came the regretful reply. "My wife found the tickets while searching for some papers and asked me about it. Of course I had to say it was a surprise for her. I had no choice."

"You could have finally left her, like you have been promising to do for the past year."

"It's not that simple," he began in a grave tone. "I'm sure you're aware of the fact that my father is also the chairman of the company. Do you have any idea what he would do if he found out I left his daughter for my secretary?"

"Oh, so I'm only your secretary now, am I?"

"Amy, you know I didn't mean that," he said, brushing her hair off her face. "I love you so much, but I can't leave my wife. Not yet."

"Just get out," she said bitterly. "I need to be alone."

"All right," he said, collecting his personal effects from the dresser and putting on his coat. "But, while we're on the subject of the moral high ground, you should remember that I paid for your necklace, that little car you take to work nowadays as well as the last bit of your student loans. How about you show some gratitude instead of getting all high and mighty?"

"Fuck you," she hissed, glaring angrily.

"I even bought you this apartment."

"You mean your little love nest?" Amy said in an unwaveringly calm tone. "Maybe I should tell your wife."

The man laughed while draping the scarf around his neck. "You and I both know you won't. Drop the moral outrage, okay? I'll see you at work tomorrow. Have the Dawson file on my desk by afternoon."

Just like that, he left. Amy collapsed onto the couch, trying to make sense of the jumble of contradictions in his mind. The only clear thought was that she needed to get out of this place as fast as her legs would let her.

Simply being in that apartment made Amy Fleming feel dirty. A good Catholic girl like her in a situation like this? If only her parents could see her now. While she rushed out, she saw another woman collecting her mail. The copious amount of bad make-up suggested she actually got paid to whore herself out, unlike Amy who did it for love.

Love -- this ethereal drug that enveloped her and made her feel a fluffy warmth all over her body; the castle in the clouds she built brick by brick, only to tear it down again; the happy delusion that fooled her into thinking the world was a better place while it lasted.

Like most drugs, love was addictive. It also had a withdrawal. Every time she felt the floor ripped out from under her, the fall seemed to take longer. This time, she was falling faster, faster than she thought possible. She kept falling, until her soul begged for the crash.

She opened her eyes, finding herself on a lonely road, then she started running. She was running away from all the memories of her last love. Tears streamed down her face and fell on the cold, unfeeling street. Somewhere in her heart, the last ember of the love she felt for her boss died.

It felt terrible each time that happened. Amy's only consolation came from praying it wouldn't happen once more.

She did not know how long and how far she had run when she finally came to a stop. She doubled over and caught her breath. She looked around, seeing brick walls and darkened windows. The only light came from a late-night bar across the road.

"Why not?" she said to herself, walking through the lit doors. The tables and chairs were neatly stacked away on one side as the bartender began to shut down for the night. There was only one customer left at the counter, a sandy haired man.

"Last round, buddy," he said to the man and went about counting his earnings for the day. Amy sat beside him and ordered a single drink for herself. It would help with the numbing process.

A small sob caught her attention. She turned to the sandy haired man. He looked like a wreck, leaning over and sobbing quietly into his own beer. Amy recognized a kindred spirit. She mustered up the courage to ask. "Wife or girlfriend?"

"Girlfriend," he mumbled back, still looking straight into his glass. She pursed her lips before shifting closer to him.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked in a small voice.

"Am I that drunk?" he said wistfully, turning to face her. Amy studied his face, all the way from his crystal clear eyes to his smooth chin. It resembled a hollow mask, streaked from hours of crying. She knew that look from the mirror.

"I know how you feel, friend," she said, placing her palm over his. "The drinks will only help for a while. Sooner or later, you're going to have to face the reality that someone you love doesn't love you nearly as much."

"You too, then?" he asked, forcing some mirth into his voice.

"Yes, me too," said Amy. "Would you like to talk some more over coffee tomorrow morning?"

The man looked at her contemplatively for a few seconds before his lips broke into a weak smile. Amy returned the favour and extended her hand.

"Amy Fleming," she said.

"John Mendel," said the man, shaking her hand.

And all of a sudden, the world wasn't as lonely any longer.

* *



Sondige Sondagspeletjies



Deel I - Strandpret

Wie sou ooit kon dink dat so 'n onskuldige uitstappie ooit so sou ontaard?

Sandra was weg na 'n kongres en ek was sedert die vorige middag graswewenaar. Ek het myself gesit en bejammer want dit was my verjaarsdag en ek was stoksielalleen in die grote huis. Net terwyl ek wonder hoe ek die lang Sondag sou omkry, het jy gebel en my saam genooi strand toe.

'Dis so lieflike oggend. 'n Mens kan dit nie by die huis mors nie en ek wil nie alleen gaan nie,' het jy my oortuig. Ons het gereël dat ek jou by jou woonstel sou kom optel. Beide van ons was seker dat Sandra nie 'n probleem sou hê as ek saam met haar beste vriendin strand toe gaan nie. Al waaroor sy jaloers sou wees is omdat sy nie die uitstappie sou kon meemaak nie.

Ek het my ou wye-pyp swembroek aangetrek, 'n klompie bier in 'n koelsak gegooi en die inhoud van my ysbakkies daaroor leeggemaak, 'n handdoek gegryp en is by die deur uit.

Jy het reeds langs die straat voor jou woonstel vir my gestaan en wag – twee strandstoele, 'n sonsambreel, koelsak en handdoek in 'n kleurryke hopie langs jou voete. Ek kon my oë nie van jou lang, bruingebrande bene afhou nie. Jy het so eina denimbroekie aangehad met 'n ewe skrapse toppie. Daar was geen twyfel dat jy 'n welbedeelde vrou was nie.

My gedagtes het teruggeflits na gesprekke wat ek en Sandra oor jou gehad het. Sy het my eenkeer gevra of ek jou aantreklik vind en ek het 'ja' geantwoord, want jy wás. Sandra het ook my opinie gedeel. My gedagtes daaraan het my egter nou onmiddelik skuldig laat voel en ek het aan iets anders probeer dink.

Ek het uitgespring om jou met die hoop strandbagasie te help en jy het my omhels en 'n piksoentjie op die wang gegee. 'O ja, geluk met jou verjaarsdag.'

'Dankie-' was al wat ek kon inkry, voor jy verder gepraat het.

'Dit gaan wonderlik wees. Dis regtig so lieflike oggend – ideaal vir die strand. Dankie dat jy ingestem het,' het jy met daai kenmerklike lewenslus gesê en die goed in die kattebak begin pak.

By die strand - wat nog verlate was, behalwe vir so paar vroeë-oggend wandelaars met hul honde – het ons gou 'n lekker lêplek gevind en onsself tuis gemaak in die son. Die koelsakke was in die skadu onder die sambreel en ek het sommer dadelik twee biere oopgemaak en vir jou een aangegee. 'Thanks,' het jy geglimlag.

'Cheers. Op 'n lekker dag op die strand,' het ek geantwoord. Ek het jou dopgehou terwyl jy die eerste sluk neem – kop agteroor en oë behaaglik toe. 'n Druppel vog het teen jou ken en nek afgerol en op die helling van jou bors tot ruste gekom, so tussen die ligte sproetjies. Ek kon voel hoe my voël styf word in die dun swembroek. 

Skielik geïrriteerd deur die verraad van my liggaam het ek die bier in die sand langs my neergeplak en opgespring. 'Kom ons gaan toets die water,' het ek oor my skouer geroep en in die rigting van die branders begin stap, sonder om vir jou te wag. Ek het nie gedurf omdraai nie.

'Whoa, wag vir my.' Jy het agter my aangedraf en toe jy langs my is het jy jou arm deur myne gehaak. Ek was bewus van die hitte en vorm van jou sagte bors teen my biceps. Ek het gehoop jy kyk nie af nie want ek het soos 'n waterwyser gelyk – punt in die rigting van die oseaan.

'Kom,' sê ek en gryp jou hand en hardloop dan die branders in. Saam duik ons deur die eerste paar en ek verkyk my aan jou elke keer wanneer jy soos 'n nimf uit die water opstaan – met water wat uit jou rooibruin hare oor jou skouers en borste stroom. Jou donker tepels was duidelik afgeëts en het kliphard teen die dun materiaal van jou wit bikini bostuk gebeur. My verleentheid was darem nou bedek deur die heupdiepte water aangesien nie eers die skok van die koue water my voël wou laat slap word nie.  

Soos skoolkinders het ons baljaar – mekaar nat gespat en gejaag. Eenkeer het jy jou misgis en ek het jou in 'n omhelsing van agter gevang. My stywe voël het vlugtig teen jou ferm boudjies gedruk en ek het jou vinnig weggestamp. Jy het ongeërg omgedraai en weer water begin spat – asof niks gebeur het nie. 

'Genoeg,' het ek gehyg en terug strand toe begin stoei deur die gety. Ek het op die strandstoel neergesak en dadelik my handdoek oor my onderlyf gegooi en gemaak of ek my afdroog.

Die res van die oggend het vinnig verloop terwyl die son gebak het en die biere gevloei het. Kort- kort het ons gaan lafenis soek in die koel water. Soms saam-saam en soms elkeen op sy eie. Ons het lekker lê en gesels en gevind dat ons baie belange deel.

'Ek stick jou vir 'n pizza daar oorkant die pad,' het jy so teen middagete gesê. 'Ek is rasend honger.'

Ek het ingestem, want ek kon self voel hoe die biere my begin affekteer en het besef dat ek in my haas nie ontbyt geëet het nie. 'Deal, maar ek betaal vir die wyn.'

'Deal,' het jy geglimlag en opgestaan. Jy het die T-hempie oor jou kop getrek en ek het die geleentheid - terwyl jou gesig versteek was - gebruik om jou skaamteloos dop te hou. Met jou arms so effe bo jou kop het jou pragtige borsies parmantig gepunt. Die tepels was steeds stokstyf en prominent sigbaar deur die dun materiaal en ek het gewonder hoe hulle kaal sou lyk en ook hoe hulle in my mond sou voel.

Jou magie was plat en daar het 'n silwer dolfyntjie geswaai aan die ringetjie deur jou naeltjie. My blik het jou vol vroulike heupe ingeneem en dan gefokus op jou bultende skaamheuwel en die klam materiaal wat soos 'n tweede vel die spleetjie van jou dosie gesuggereer het. Dis snaaks dat ek nie eers kan onthou waar ek gisteraand my leesbril neergesit het nie, maar ek kan duidelik onthou dat daar nie eers 'n teken van 'n enkele skaamhaartjie in jou sagte lieste om die rand van die skrapse broekie sigbaar was nie. 

Ek het my sanderige handdoek op my skoot gefrommel gehad teen die tyd wat jy klaar was maar jy het skalks en wetend na my gekyk met daai smaraggroen oë. Nie net was daar 'n knop in my broek – onder die handdoek nie – maar ook in my keel. Ek het selfbewus keel skoongemaak en jy het geglimlag terwyl jy jou klam hare met jou vingers uitgekom het.

Die restaurant was redelik besig, maar ons het 'n tafel in die hoek op die dek gekry. Kort voor lank het elkeen groot hompe seekos pizza afgesluk met glase vol goedkoop, maar yskoue Blanc de Noir. Albei was hongerder as wat ons gedink het. Ek het 'n gevoel van saligheid beleef en dit toegeskryf aan die drank, son en see.

Skielik het ek jou voet tussen my bene gevoel en jou groottoon het oor my bultende voël gestreel. Ek het amper verstik aan my wyn en jy het jou kop agteroor gegooi en lekker gelag. Ek was sprakeloos.

'Lyk my hy staan sommer maklik en gereëld regop, nè. Hou jy daarvan as ek dit doen?' het jy onskuldig gevra en jou speelse glimlag agter die rand van jou wynglas verbloem terwyl jou voet steeds oor my broek gevryf het. Ek dink dat die antwoord redelik voor die handliggend was.

Nadat ek weer keel skoongemaak het het ek skor geprewel, 'fok, Erika, jy maak my jags.' Die woorde was uit voor ek dit kon keer.

Die keer het jy gelag vir my ongemak. 'Haai, ek het nie geweet groot mans kan nog bloos nie. Ten minste draai jy nie doekies om nie.' 

Ek het jou aandag geniet – dit was tog duidelik - maar ek was kwaad oor die hulpelose gevoel wat deur my gespoel het omdat ek geweet het jy is in beheer. Wat meer was, jy het dit ook geweet.

'Ek... Ons moet aanstaltes maak, ek het nog 'n verslag – '

'Kom nou, wat van nog wyn? Dis nog vroeg,' het jy my onderbreek en sonder om te wag vir 'n antwoord het jy die kelnerin nader gewink. 'Another bottle of wine, please.'

Intussen het jou voet 'n weg langs my een broekspyp gebaan. Omdat ek die gevoel van sand in my onderbroek haat, het ek nie een aangehad onder die los, kort swembroek nie en kort voor lank het jou toon kontak gemaak met my naakte voël. 'Smokkel jy salami of is jy net bly om by my te wees?' 

'Jy moet ophou, netnou sien- '

'Kom nou, ons albei weet jy geniet dit – ons al drie– ' en hier het jy my voëlkop so tussen jou tone gemasseer, '-weet jy geniet dit.' Ek kon nie stry nie – ek is weereens deur my liggaam verraai. Ek het dus maar my bene weffe wyer oopgemaak en myself daardeur meer toeganklik. Ek het skaars die kelnerin – wat intussen die wyn gebring het – gemerk.

Veel later, met 'n lamheid in my lieste, is ons terug motor toe. Dit was hel warm in die motor en ek het die venster oopgemaak om koel lug te laat sirkuleer voor ons wegtrek. 

Nadat ons so ent gery het het jy jou hand voor op my steeds bultende broek geplaas en in my oor gefluister, 'ek wil jou suig - nou.'

'Netnou moer ek die kar om en dan?' Ek kon dit al in my geestesoog sien – daar lê ek - langs die onderstebo motor in die pad - met 'n wêreldklas horing.

'Toemaar, jy sal nie. Hou net albei hande op die wiel en jou oë op die pad en los die res vir my,' het jy glimlaggend gemaan terwyl jou bedrewe vingers my voël bo uit die broek gehaal het. Daar het 'n druppel deursigtige sap teen die kant van die kop en oor jou slanke hand gerol. 'Mmm, lyk heerlik - poeding,' het jy gesê en jou lippe afgelek.

Jy het op jou knieë gaan hurk hier langs my op die passasiersitplek en vooroor gebuk. Ek kon jou asem voel blaas oor die blinknat pers-blou kop van my voël net voordat jy dit met jou sagte, warm mond omvou het. Jy het dit diep in jou mond ingesuig en dan weer net met jou tong oor die kop gespeel en die nattigheid gelek terwyl jou hand styf geklem en behendig op en af teen die skaf beweeg het. Ek het afgekyk maar kon niks sien nie, want die aksie was verberg onder jou haredos.

'Fok, ek gaan kom as jy so aanhou,' het ek hees gesê. 

Ek wóú kom – in jou mond - maar het dit nie gesê nie maar asof jy my gedagtes kon lees het jy opgekyk met daai lieflike groen oë en vir my geglimlag. 'Kom dan. Ek wil jou proe.' Jy het afgebuk en weer begin suig. O, fok, dit was hemels.

'Ek... ek kom...' het ek geprewel terwyl my hand krampagtig jou hare vasgryp en ek my pelvis oplig uit die sitplek. Ek kon voel hoe die warm saad polsend diep in jou keel spuit en spuit. Lank na die laaste spasma het jy steeds bly suig en toe jy uiteindelik regop kom het jy jou tong vir my uitgesteek en dit so effe bak gehou, in die holte het 'n groot blerts kom geblink. Jy het gewink en dit behaaglik afgesluk en jou lippe afgelek.

'Hou jy... ' Ek het selfbewus gekug – wat ek wou sê sou goedkoop klink en afbreek doen aan die intiemheid van dit wat ons sopas gedeel het. Ek was so rukkie stil en sê toe: 'Hou jy daarvan?'

'Van blowjobs gee of van die smaak van kom?' Wou jy ewe onskuldig weet. Hoe kon jy so doodluiters en reguit hieroor praat?

'Uhm... die smaak van... kom,' uiter ek die woorde ongemaklik.

'O ja! Baie. Ek sê mos dis "poeding". Die smaak dryf my behoorlik teen die mure uit van jagsheid.' 

My voël, wat intussen steeds in jou hand was, het weer opgewonde gepols. Jy het dit gevoel, 'n stywe drukkie gegee en versigtig – amper gewyd – teruggesit in my broek. Ek het voor my na die pad gestaar, maar kon jou blik op my voel. Ek wou oogkontak vermy. Nie een van ons het iets verder gesê tot by jou woonstel nie. Wat sou ons in elk geval sê?

Skaars het ek voor die woonstelblok stilgehou of jy spring uit. 'Thanks vir 'n baie lekker dag.'

'Plesier,' het ek amper onhoorbaar gemompel en het lomp probeer uitklim – te bewus van die salige lamheid en die kloppende polsslag in my lies – en onbeholpe begin help afpak.

'Kom jy in vir koffie,' het jy oor jou skouer gevra en na die gebou begin stap sonder om vir 'n antwoord te wag.

Woordeloos – met 'n strandstoel onder elke arm en 'n nat kol op my broek – is ek agterna.

Deel II - Woonstelpret

Na die hitte van die son – onder andere – was dit koel in die woonstel. 

'Ag, sit sommer die goed daar in die eetkamer neer,' het jy oor jou skouer geroep en in die gang af verdwyn. Ek het die stoele staan gemaak teen die muur en toe ek orent kom het ek effe lighoofdig gevoel, maar dit toegeskryf aan die son en die drank. Daai koppie koffie sou nou lekker afgaan.

Daar was 'n vrouetydskrif op die eetkamertafel en ek het belangeloos daardeur staan en blaai. Toe ek opkyk staan jy in die gang – totaal skaamteloos naak. Ek kon my oë nie van jou afhou nie. 'Wil jy ook kom stort?' het jy onskuldig gevra en net so bly staan asof jy my wou uitdaag om weg te kyk – ek kon nie. 

Ek het elke detail van jou perfekte liggaam ingeneem: Die slanke skouers en parmantige borste met die ligte sproetjies en daai harde, donker tepels – wat selfs langer en groter was as wat ek vermoed het; jou plat maag; die swelling van jou breë, vroulike heupe; die amper kaalgeskeerde aanloklike plompheid van jou poesie en jou lang, gladde bene.

Ek kon voel hoe my voël weer bokspring. 'Ek sien jy hou van dit wat jy sien. Kom stort saam met my dan kan jy voel óók terwyl jy my was,' het jy gesê en jou hand na my uitgesteek. Jou stem was amper onhoorbaar bo die gedruis in my ore. Ek kon voel hoe my pols in my lies klop. Iewers vêr het ek 'n sirene gehoor, maar dit was asof op 'n ander planeet. Ek het die tydskrif neergesit en stadig, effe onseker, nader gestap en diep in jou groen oë gekyk.

Die stort was knap vir twee en ons het beurte gemaak om onder die warm strale water te staan. Jy het eerste begin om my te was: my skouers; my bors: my 

maag; my arms en dan af na my stywe voël – wat jy saggies seep gesmeer het. Jy het die vel weer vêr teruggetrek en die taai kop gewas dat die skuim so staan terwyl jy my selfvoldaan in die oë kyk. 'Soos Xaviera Hollander gesê het: " If you don't keep it clean as a whistle, it won't get blown..."' 

My Enigste antwoord was 'n kreungeluid en ek het gewonder hoe jy van Xaviera Hollander weet.

'Nou my beurt,' het jy gefluister en vir my die koekie seep aangegee. Jy het jou rug op my gedraai en ek het begin om jou skouers en nek te was. 'Ouch!'

'Wat's fout? Maak ek jou seer?' het ek verbaas gevra en ophou was. 

'Nee, gaan aan. Ek dink net ek het vandag seerder gebrand as wat ek gedink het. Jy sal my met aftersun moet insmeer sodra ons klaar gestort het, asseblief.'

Ek het weer begin seep smeer: eers jou lae rug en dan met beide hande oor die kurwes van jou heupe en dan oor jou stywe boudjies. Toe my vingers naby die spleet kom, staan jy effe wyer met jou bene en ek aanvaar die uitnodiging. My een hand seil tussen jou boudjies in en oor die rosie van jou kringspier, wat onwillekeurig onder die aanraking pruil. My hand beweeg egter verder af en tussen jou bene in. 

Ek voel deur die seepskuim 'n ander sagter, gladder nattigheid en my middelvinger sak soos 'n warm mes in botter tussen jou skaamlippies in. Nou kreun jý en druk jou boude teen my voël aan. My ander hand reik om jou en ek begin jou borste was. Eers een – al rondom en dan oor die stywe tepel, wat ek saggies tussen my vingers knie – en dan die ander een ook. 

'O dônner, jy maak my jags,' het jy gehyg en jou kop na my toe gedraai. Ek het jou vol op die mond gesoen en ek kon voel hoe jou tong tussen my lippe beweeg. Praat van jags, het ek gedink terwyl my voël 'n duik in jou sagte boudjie druk.

Nadat ons klaar gestort het is ons net so kaal kamer toe, waar jy – nadat jy vir my die aftersun aangegee het – jou op jou maag op die bed neergevly het. Weereens het ek die kurwes van jou lyf bewonder – van waar die vallei van jou sonbruin rug oorgegaan het in die volmaakte heuwels van jou wit boudjies en af oor jou ferm, gladde dye.

Ek het 'n groot blerts van die blou jel in my bakhand gespuit en langs jou gaan kniel. 

'Brrr,' het jy gesê en liggies geril toe ek die koel jel oor jou rug begin invryf. Ek kon die hoendervel soos breil onder my vingerpunte voel. Ek het die jel egalig oor jou hele rug gesmeer en op teen die heuwel van jou boudjies. 'Haai, ek het nie daar gebrand nie,' het jy gegiggel. 

'Ek weet, maar hulle is so dônners mooi, ek kan dit nie help nie,' het ek geantwoord en begin om jou bobene in te smeer. Ek het agter jou knieë begin en opwaarts gewerk, tot net onder jou boudjies, waar ek met my duime die voutjie onder elke boud gestreel het. Jy het saggies gekreun en jou bene wyer oop gemaak. Jou diep-pienk, skoongeskeerde koekie het skaam-uitdagend vir my geloer. My voël het weer gebokspring teen my maag. Ek wou jou hê en het kras gefluister, 'Erika, ek wil jou naai.'

Jy het op jou sy omgerol en weer speels vir my geglimlag. Daar was naakte wellus in jou groen oë. 'Ek dog jy gaan nooit weer vra nie. Maar eers wil ek hê jy moet my eet, asseblief. Sandra reken jy is nogal baie goed daarmee.'

Ek het skielik verstyf. Bespreek my vrou ons kamersake met jou, het ek gedink? Jy het onmiddelik besef dat dit die verkeerde ding was om te sê. 

'Sorry, ek het dit nie so bedoel nie. Sy kon regtig net nie uitgepraat raak daaroor nie en ek het gedink... Ek wou... ek wíl self voel,' het jy gepleit en jou hand op my wang gesit.

'Okay dan,' het ek skielik vasberade gereken toe my manlike ydelheid weer terugkeer. Ek het jou amper hardhandig op jou rug gedraai en jou bene opgelig tot jou knieë teen jou tieties gedruk het. Jy was totaal weerloos en toeganklik voor my gesig. Ek het weer 'n oomblik net sit en kyk. Jou mooi boudjies was wyd gesper en die roosknoppie van jou kringspier was 'n sagte gekreukelde bruin-pienk en net bo dit het jou opgewonde dosie blink-nat en geswel geblom. Die binnelippies was dik gepof van opgewondenheid; jou klit het prominent uitgestaan - halflyf uit sy skede - soos 'n klein kordate soldaatjie. In die sagte vel rondom hierdie lieflike prentjie was daar nie 'n teken van 'n enkele skaamhaartjie nie. 

Ek het laer gebuk en het die soet, aardse reuk van jou jagsheid diep ingeasem. My gesig was so te sê in jou oop koekie en ek kon hoor hoe jy na jou asem snak toe ek my tong saggies teen jou nat spleet druk. Jou sappe was selfs soeter as wat ek ooit kon droom. Ek wou dit gulsig oplek, maar het besef dat my sogenaamde reputasie hier op die spel was en het saggies al met die buitelippies langs, al rondom jou dosie gelek. Jou kreungeluide het my vertel dat ek op die regte pad was. Jou hande het deur my hare gespeel en ek kon kort-kort jou naels op my kopvel voel.

Na 'n ruk het ek skielik en dartelend oor jou klit gelek en jy het jou onderlyf teen my gesig vasgedruk terwyl jou vuiste krampagtig in my hare gebal het. 'Fok, lek my klit...' het jy gehyg. Ek hét, met sulke ligte, stadige anti-kloksgewyse sirkeltjies. Ek kon voel hoe jou dye weerskante van my kop bewe. Jou asem het vinniger gejaag. 

Ek het my een middelvinger weggedruk in jou liefdesskede, terwyl ek bly lek het en toe die vinger goed nat en glad was het ek dit weer uitgehaal. Daarna het ek dit in klein sirkeltjies oor jou kringspier gevryf en gevoel hoe dit onwillekeurig saamtrek. Ek het ophou lek en geprewel, 'ontspan, ek sal jou nie seermaak nie.' Jy het en skielik het my vinger jou agterdeur maklik en egalig gepenetreer. Jy het iets tussen 'n sug en 'n kreun geuiter. Dit was warm en styf om my vinger. 

Ek het weer jou klit begin lek en jy het sulke sagte tjankgeluide gemaak. So het ek vir nog 'n paar minute aangehou en al vinniger en harder gelek terwyl ek jou van agter met my vinger genaai het.

'O dônner, maar dis lekker. Moenie nou ophou nie, asseblief. Ek is so naby... ek voel... ek gaan kom,' het jy gekerm en my kop teen jou sopnat dosie gedruk. Ek het jou op my beurt so met my middelvinger stywer teen my mond vasgedruk.

'O bliksem, ek kom NOU!' het jy geskree. Jy was heel in my mond en ek kon voel hoe jou klit teen my tong pols en jy styf om my vinger saamtrek voor ek die vloed soet sap van jou orgasme gulsig afgesluk het.

Ek het opgekyk en my vinger versigtig verwyder. Jy het jou bewende bene laat sak. Stadig het ek oor jou geklim tot ons gesig aan gesig was en ek het jou diep gesoen. Jy kon jouself op my lippe proe, maar dit het jou nie afgesit nie. Jy het my vurig teruggesoen.

Toe ons asem skep, sê jy, ' sodra ek my hartklop weer onder beheer het sal ons voortgaan met jóú versoek van vroeër. So by the way, Sandra mag maar oor jou brag. Ek het nooit geweet dit kan so hemels wees nie – veral toe jy jou vinger...'




Sondra's Day Off



Sondra woke early and just lay in bed, thinking about what she was going to do today. She had the day off and she was going to have a good time, that she was sure of. Her job at the grocery was beginning to wear on her nerves and she thought it was time to let loose and begin enjoying herself. She had just broke up with her latest boy friend and she needed some attention. She had been too busy to go out and today was the day. She was going to let herself have fun, even if it killed her. She smiled to herself as she remembered just how easy it was back when she was still in high school. Now her father had made her get a job and pay him rent for her room. She got up and stood before the mirror looking at herself.

Her hair was a mess, but she still looked good, her body was small, and she had small breasts and hips. She cupped her breasts and took her nipples in her fingers and pinched them slightly making them become erect. Her hands ran down her body and over her hips then she turned and watched as she ran her hands over her ass. She giggled, when she thought of the boys in the store and how they were always hitting on her when she worked. She thought of them now and then cast them aside, she knew if she had sex with one of them probably he would probably tell the others then they would be bothering her even more.

She was proud of her ass, she had a plump ass, one that made men turn their heads when she walked by and she liked the attention. She picked up a tee shirt and put it over her head, then headed for the bathroom to piss.

As she sat on the commode, the piss hitting the water, she wondered just what she would decide to do today. Maybe she could meet up with her Joey, an old friend and they would go do something together. When she finished, the wiped herself and looked up to see her father standing at the door she had left open, thinking that everyone had left the house for the day.

"You should close the door before you use the bathroom, baby."

"Yes, Daddy, I just didn't think there was anyone home, I'm sorry." She stood and flushed the toilet, then washed her hands and still her father hadn't moved. She reached up and kissed him, her tee shirt coming up her hips leaving herself exposed as she stood on her tiptoes to kiss him.

"You're crazy, Sondra, you should wear more around the house, and with since your mother passed away, I don't have any outlet. Be careful, you'd never know what I might do." Richard laughed as he told her that. They never had any problem around the house but he knew if she offered her body to him, he would definitely fuck his own daughter. 

"You're so bad, Daddy."

He slapped her on the ass and she went downstairs to get something for breakfast.

After breakfast, Sondra went back upstairs and took off her tee shirt and headed for the shower. She passed her father's room on the way and wondered what he was doing. She thought about opening the door and letting him get his eyes full of her body, but thought against it and went on into the bathroom and started the shower. She made sure she left the door ajar as she did, so if her daddy came by he could look in. She loved knowing that he was watching her sometimes. She spent a lot of time in the shower cleaning herself very nicely and then stepped out. She looked at the door and saw that it had been opened wider than she left it and she smiled to herself.

She fixed her hair and shaved her legs and picked up the mirror and examined her pubic hair. She spread her legs wide and realized she needed a little grooming of her bikini area. She lathered up and started to shave, when the urge hit her to shave herself. She sat on the commode and shave herself clean as a whistle, making sure she got all of the growth making her pussy as smooth as a baby's butt. 

When she finished she wrapped a towel around herself and went down the hall to her room. She dropped the towel on the bed and then slipped on a black thong and a pair of short cut off jeans. Turning to look in the mirror and noticing that the jeans were just tight enough to allow the seam at the rear to push into the crack of her ass so everyone would notice. She picked up a tube top and pulled it over her head and arranged her breast in it. She slipped on a pair of sandals and then packed her bikini in a small bag along with a beach towel. She picked up here wallet and put it in the bag also, then started down the stairs.

When she got to the bottom of the stairs she set her bag down and went to look for her father.

"Bye, bye, Daddy. I love you."

"Where are you off to, Sondra?"

"I think I will end up at the beach, I think I'll call Joey and see if he wants to go with me. What are you going to do today?"

"I've got to mow the lawn and I think I'll putz around here today. Have a good time, baby, and be careful."

"I will Daddy." She moved close to him and stood on her tip toes to kiss him.

Richard held his daughter close and let his hand drop down to her ass as he kissed her, pulling her close. He felt Sondra push against him as they stood there, and they lingered a bit too long with their kiss. "Okay, baby, I'll see you later. Call if you're going to be too late."

She looked at him and licked her lips as she nodded and turned to leave. She enjoyed the feel of his hand on her ass, but it was not anything that was new. He had always copped a feel when she kissed him goodbye. Sometimes she wondered what it would be like to have sex with him, but she always let it be just that, wonder.

Joey answered the phone, noting that it was Sondra that was calling him and said, "Hey, my love, how are you today?"

"Hello, Joey, wanna go to the beach with me?"

"That sounds like a plan, I don't have anything to do today, I was just wondering what I was going to do, I'm glad you called. When will you be here?"

"In about 15 minutes, so hurry and get ready. I brought my new bikini, you the yellow one I just bought."

"Wow, can't wait to see you in that sexy thing, I love the way the thong bottom shows off your ass." He laughed when he said that, he knew she thought her ass was the best asset she had, and they had been friend for a long time, besides she did have a nice ass.

"You brute, I'm not sure I want you to with me any longer", she teased.

"Just bring your ass over and I'll be ready."

"Okay, I'll see you in a little bit, bye, bye for now."

"Bye." Joey hung up the phone and went to his room to get ready. He thought about Sondra and the close friends they were. They had known each other since they were little kids and they could talk to each other about anything. They had gone together for a while and they had had sex, but they didn't date any more, preferring to be close friends instead. They still enjoyed having sex once in a while, but it wasn't the type that a boyfriend, girlfriend did, just a pleasant physical experience.

As Sondra pulled into Joey's driveway, she saw him coming out of the door, he was very handsome, in fact he was almost beautiful, about 6'2" very black hair, a sculpted body, and golden eyes. She knew he liked women, but she also knew that he enjoyed men, in fact he preferred them, but she didn't mind that, he was the best friend anyone could have. She could tell him all of her problems and he listened, that's right, he LISTENED and didn't judge her one way or the other. A true friend.

As Joey opened the door, he slid into the seat and leaned over to kiss Sondra and told her, "I'm glad you called, my father has been giving me hell all morning about just about anything he can think of, and it was starting to get to me. How have you been, my love?"

"I've been great, Joey, sorry to hear about the problems with your dad. Want to come over to my house tonight, you can stay if you want?"

"I'll think about it baby, I may just do that."

They drove to the beach, talking about things in their life, Joey about the hassles his father was giving him and Sondra about her job at the grocery, it seems that neither one of them was overly happy at this point in their lives.

As they pulled into the parking area Sondra announced, "I shaved my pubes this morning, I wanted to see what it would be like. Wanna see?"

Joey laughed at her, "If you want to show me, go ahead."

"Okay, when we changed, I'll let you see, I think I like it. I want to know what your opinion is."

Joey put his arm around Sondra as they walked toward the pavilion and in turn she put her head against his chest, enjoying the closeness of her best friend. When the entered they noticed the lack of people and decided to go in the men's locker room together. When the got inside, Sondra opened her bag and took out her new bikini and pulled her top over her head. She picked up the bra part of her suit and adjusted her breasts in the cups then pulled the strings around her back and asked Joey to tie them for her. The material just barely covered her nipples and Joey made a small whistle. 

"That is just what I thought it would look like" he said after he tied her and she turned around. He looked at her as he slipped his cut off's down over his hips, revealing his flaccid cock and balls. He pulled his trunks over his legs and adjusted his suit to accommodate his genitals.

Sondra pulled her shorts down, then put her thumbs under her waist band and pushed her thong down. "Well, what do you think?"

"Damn, you really did shave didn't you? I like it, but you know I liked your pubes the way they were, too."

"Yea, I know, well, I just wanted to see what it would look like again. It's been a while since I shaved completely. Ronnie used to like it."

Ronnie was her boyfriend up until two months ago and he used to ask her to shave all the time, he told her he really liked the smooth feeling.

Joey said, "Can I feel to see how good you shaved?"

"Sure, go ahead, Joey, but be careful I haven't been fucked in a while, you may have to help me" she giggled.

Joey moved next to her and reached down and ran his hand over her pussy, allowing his finger to push her lips apart as he did. His finger found her clit and he massaged it a little. "You are a hot little one aren't you my love?"

She pushed her pelvis toward his hand and said, "You ought to know, Joey."

He stopped what he was doing and she stepped back and picked up her thong and pulled it up over her thighs, and arranged it on her hips, making sure the thin strip of material fell into her ass crack completely. 

"Okay, let's hit the beach."

They picked up their clothes and headed out the door, passing an older man, who stared at them as he entered, looking up to see if it said "MEN" or not. They laughed with each other as they headed out the door and onto the open beach.

They walked north on the beach until they found a quiet place, then spread out their blanket and put down their towels and other stuff. Sondra immediately headed for the water, with Joey following close behind her. They hit the water and started to splash each other, making sure the other got wet. They spent the next 30 minutes playing in the water, then headed back to the shore, to lay in the sun.

They spent the afternoon basking in the sun and about 4:00 they picked up their thing and headed back to the car together. The stopped at a MacDonald's to get something to eat and then they decided that Joey would spend the night at Sondra's house tonight. Sondra had just slipped her cut off's on over her bikini when they left the beach, and Joey had left his trunks on.

They walked into Sondra's house and she yelled out for her father, not getting a response she told Joey to sit down she would go look. She headed up stairs and heard the shower running and saw the door was ajar. She pushed on the door and saw her father was in the shower and she had a quick thought and took off her cut off's and bikini and pushed open the curtain and stepped into the shower.

"What are you doing?"

"I need a shower, I hope you don't mind sharing with me." Sondra smiled at her father as she stood there and he turned his back toward her. She took some soap and lather his back as they stood under the water.

"You know you shouldn't be doing this Sondra. I'm your father."

"I know, but what am I doing wrong?"

He had to admit that she really wasn't doing anything wrong, except to see him in the nude. He started to enjoy her hands on his back as she washed him, and when she moved closer to him and he could feel her breasts on his back, then she reached around him and soaped his cock and balls and he gasped.

"Stop that Sondra, I'm in no mood to play with you."

Sondra felt his cock in her hand and his hefty balls as she soaped them, then she let the water rinse off the soapy solution she had covered them with. She felt his cock begin to stiffen in her hand and she started to move her hand.

Richard stood still, enjoying the feeling of his daughter's hand on his cock, he felt himself begin to churn as his cum built up in side his body. He closed his eyes and remembered his wife as Sondra began to move her hand quicker and knew it wouldn't take long before he was releasing his sperm.

Sondra was enjoying the feeling she was getting, after all this wasn't really incest, was it? It didn't matter, she just picked up the pace and she felt his cock begin to get harder and thought to herself "He's much bigger than Ronnie was and about the same size that Joey was." She wanted him to be happy and she picked up her pace even more and she heard him groan and felt his cock pulse in her hand. She looked around his body and saw the stream of cum shoot out and splatter against shower wall. She kept jerking until he moved his hand down and held her hand. She kissed him on the shoulder as she released his cock.

Richard turned around and looked at Sondra. "You shouldn't have done that, baby, I'm you father."

"I'm sorry, but you enjoyed it didn't you?"

Richard had to admit that he did enjoy it, but, "That's not the point, I'm vulnerable at this time in my life, and I'm worried that I won't be able to stop if we start something."

"I'm sorry, if you don't want me to do anything anymore, I won't."

"Okay, baby, we'll talk about it later." He leaned down and kissed his daughter, then stepped out of the shower. 

"I'm going to finish taking a shower, Daddy, and Joey is downstairs, he is going to spend the night."

"Okay, I'll go down and talk with him as soon as I'm dressed, and thank you Sondra for what you did."

Sondra finished rinsing the days sand and salt from her body and when she dried off, she put on her tee shirt and went downstairs where Joey and her father were sitting and talking.

Joey looked at Sondra and said, "I think I'll go up and take a quick shower, my love. What do you want to do tonight?"

"Why don't we sit around and watch some TV, how about you Daddy? Would you like to get a pizza or something and watch something on the tube?"

He looked at Sondra as she sat on the couch opposite him and saw that again she didn't have any panties on. "Sure, baby, I'd love to do that, but are you two sure that you don't mind me being here? Sondra, you ought to put some more clothes on."

"Daddy, it's only you and Joey, don't spas on me."

Joey laughed as he got up and headed up the stairs. "You are a trip, Sondra. Such a bad little girl."

Sondra looked at her father after Joey went up the stairs and said, "Don't you like for me to wear this shirt, Daddy?"

"Sondra, don't get started, I warned you, didn't I?"

"Yes, Daddy?" she giggled.

"What's on tonight?"

"I don't know, why don't we get a video and watch that."

Richard looked at his daughter and his cock began to get hard again, and he knew that it was wrong, but he couldn't help it. He was happy that Joey would be here tonight, because he didn't want to be alone with her tonight, her knew he would have to have her if they were alone.

Joey came down the stairs dressed in his cut off's and a tee shirt. He sat on the couch next to Sondra and asked her father, "What are we gonna do tonight, Rich?"

"How about a beer Joey?"

"Sounds like a winner, want me to get it?"

"Naw, I'll go."

"Let me go Daddy, I'll get it for both of you."

"Okay, baby, go on."

Sondra started to get up, she spread her legs slightly and her tee shirt rode up her hips exposing her pussy. She smiled at her father and pulled the tee shirt back down and Joey laughed at her and said, "Trying to give your father a show, my love?"

"Joey, shut up."

Richard laughed as he looked at Joey and said, "She better watch herself, showing off her pussy like that."

"Truly, she is such a tease."

Sondra wondered what it would be like to feel her father's cock as she walked into the kitchen. She was beginning to get horny and was glad that Joey was going to stay tonight. She hoped he would make love to her. They always slept together when he stayed over. Her father knew that they used to date and he probably realized they still had sex now and then. He had also begun to realize that Joey was bi-sexual, and he liked him a lot, always had.

When she came back in with their beers, she gave Joey his and then handed her father his, turned and went back to the couch and sat down with one leg up under her butt, leaving her legs spread open and giving Richard another great shot of her pussy. He tried to look away, but his eyes kept coming back to Sondra and she noticed. 

"Daddy, what do you want to watch tonight?"

"I don't care, baby, you pick it out."

"Joey, want to go pick out a movie? I'll stay here with Daddy."

"Sure, give me the keys."

"They're in my cutoff's up in my room."

Joey went upstairs, then came back down and said good-byes and went out the door.

Sondra looked at her father and then said, "Do you like what you see, Daddy?"

"What do you mean, baby?"

"My pussy of course, I know you've been looking at it every time you get a chance."

"Damn girl, you can't keep doing this, I'm only human, and you are a very beautiful little lady, but you're my daughter."

"Joey will be gone for a little while, can I make you happy again today?"

"How?"

Sondra stood and walked over to her father, and sat in his lap. She kissed him on the lips and her tongue darted out and her father opened his mouth allowing her tongue into his own. 

Richard pulled back and said, "We can't do this baby, it's not right."

"I won't tell anybody, that is except Joey." She began to undo his belt as she said that and she sank to her knees in front of the chair. She unzipped his pants and reached in and pulled his cock free. It was already hard and she moved quickly and wrapped her lips around it, tasting the precum that had already started to seep from the tip.

Richard looked down at his daughter seeing his cock slide into her warm mouth, her eyes locked on his as it did.

"Ummmmm" moaned Sondra as his cock filled her mouth. Her hands undid the button on his pants and she pulled them over his hips, then let his cock go long enough to pull his brief's down to allow her access to his hairy balls. She took first one then the other of his balls into her mouth, lavishing each with her tongue as she held his cock in her hand.

Richard moaned as his daughter worked his balls over. He remembered how her mother used to do this and decided she was as talented as her mother had been. He reached down and he grabbed a handful of Sondra's hair and watched as she opened her mouth and took his cock back into it. He pulled hard and his cock buried itself in her face, then he stood and he began to fuck his daughter mouth. "Watch your teeth baby, I love fucking a woman's mouth hard."

Sondra looked up at her father and saw he was watching her and smiling, his hips pounding his cock into her mouth, he held her head tight and she felt his cock push against her throat, she relaxed and he pushed it in deep. She gagged and her eyes watered as she felt her nose nestle in his pubic hair.