9 comments/ 19046 views/ 17 favorites The Unveiling By: 2Xwidderwoman "Hi, Jack." A quiet feminine voice spoke from the side of his bed. Jack turned his head toward the voice and greeted his visitor, although he knew she was there. "Hey, Johanna, I didn't think I'd see you today." As she had walked across the room, every man on the ward greeted her. Seven other masculine voices, individually issued a quiet or boisterous, "Morning, Jo," and a quiet wolf whistle supplemented a few of those greetings. "Oh, well," she said hesitatingly. "It's Tuesday." She laughed easily and teased him. "And you can't see anyway." "Yeah, but the unveiling is tomorrow afternoon. I thought you'd wait until then." "I didn't...Jack...I thought family...ah," Johanna faltered, cleared her throat, put one hand on his forearm, and leaned a little nearer to ask quietly, "Will they let me be here for that?" "Yeah," Jack said laughing and patting her hand. "I asked the doctor if I could have at least one person on my side." "Al-l-l-right," Johanna said with excitement, "I'm spending the night with Aunt Toy, anyway." "I'd like that. You'll have to tell all your boyfriends that you're with another man. Did the folks get off okay?" Not bothering to tell him, again, that she didn't have a boyfriend, Johanna answered the question about their parents. "Yeah, Mom called bright and early, not long after they drove out of the driveway. She said there were only two arguments. The trunk held all six suitcases and the box of books. I think our mothers are sharing the back seat with Dad's new ice chest." "Who won the arguments?" He grinned knowing his question wasn't necessary, only wanting to see what she would say. "Guess," Johanna teased him back. "No way," Jack shook his head. "It's a dead lead pipe cinch, Mom and your mother won, but only because Dad and your father let them." "You got it." Changing the subject, Johanna asked, "Do you want to go for a walk outside?" "You better believe it. I'm tired of being shut up inside this damn room all the time. I haven't had a smoke all morning." "Hum-m-m," Johanna did not tell him he should quit smoking, although not everyone else was so reticent. "No comments, I've heard all of them. I'll quit, maybe, when this is all over with, or when my wife tells me she doesn't like kissing cigarette breath." "You don't have a wife," Johanna chided him for teasing her. "Not yet, I've been waiting for you to grow up." He had said this to her before, but that was when she was much younger. It suddenly occurred to Jack that he hadn't teased her about it, for several years. **** Jack Bledsoe was in a ward at a military hospital. He had a bandage across both eyes, which had been in place for several weeks. A corpsman put a bandage across his eyes in the field. A triage nurse replaced it in an emergency field hospital after he washed off some of the blood, when he temporarily closed the wounds. A surgical technician replaced it again, after surgery on the tissues around one eye. When Jack arrived at his final destination, there was another surgical procedure, around the second eye. The following day would be the first time in more than a month he would know if he could actually move his eyes as easily as the doctors had promised. It would be another month, or longer, before he could ask about continuing his military career. He had not told, and would not tell, where he was, or what he was doing, when he was injured. Jack did not speak of such things, nor do those around him speak of his activities. They accepted that Jack was a soldier, doing a dangerous job, and doing it well. Walking down the street of any city, Jack would blend with the other pedestrians. In his early thirties, he was a little over six feet tall, weighed a little more than 200 pounds, and walked with an easy stride. His sun darkened skin, dark hair, and dark eyes were almost non-descript. Most people described him as good looking and a few women had been bold enough to call him a hunk. They might have been a little more vocal with their compliments if they saw him after an hour of calisthenics. However, it was what went on inside his head, which made him unique. Jack was a survival specialist, a weapons expert, and had a phenomenal memory. While Johanna helped him into a wheelchair, reminding him not to bend over or exert himself, his memory was busy with what he knew about the young woman who would push his wheelchair outside, until they found a place where he could walk, with his hand on her shoulder. He remembered the tiny baby his neighbors brought home from the hospital. Jack's sister, Becky, was eleven and he was a teenager, the same age as Johanna's brother, George. She was part of the vacations when the two families first began to combine their plans and have a good time at a campground or somewhere a family could go for fun, without breaking their budgets. With the older children grown, as soon as Johanna was old enough to stay with her favorite aunt, or could stay home on her own with another neighbor's friendly cooperation, the two couples, all four of the parents who were teachers, started going somewhere sunny. They rested up after the school year, attended a few weeks of classes in furtherance of their chosen careers, or took long naps, and read the books they'd been saving all year. Jack taught Johanna to ride a bicycle. He taught her to swim. Her brother taught her to read before she started school, and later, how to use a computer. Jack's sister taught her how to braid her hair and Becky gave Johanna the clothes she outgrew, so Johanna could play dress-up. She was nine years old when Jack graduated college and left for his first military assignment. He held her hand a few years later, when her brother and his sister, as newlyweds, were buried side-by-side. They were on their honeymoon when a tire blowout caused their car to crash down the side of a mountain. For almost six years, she wrote him a letter, or sent him a greeting card, almost every week. Somewhere, in all his packed gear and personal effects was a heavy cardboard box, which originally contained a pair of boots. That box held letters and cards, most of them from Johanna. She never forgot Jack's birthday. She usually sent him a silly valentine, a special Christmas card, and cards she thought would make him laugh. She sent him an announcement of her high school graduation and a curl of her hair when she finally decided to get it cut. The lock of hair was almost a foot long. Inside his wallet, were at least six photos of her, every one of them signed, "Love, Johanna." He suspected she had a similar collection of letters and cards from him. In fact, her collection was much larger. Her box contained the invitation to their sibling's wedding and photos of the wedding party. Many of the letters he wrote her included one or two photographs of some amazing sights from around the world. There were a few newspaper clippings of significant events in his military career, and a small stack of photos showing him and his fellow soldiers. He usually wrote their names on the back of the photos, because she asked for the names if he did not. In one envelope was a lock of his hair. After reading a teenage romance novel, she asked him to send it to her. In the last couple of years, they had exchanged some email messages, an occasional online chat, and a few telephone calls, but most of their communication was old-fashioned snail mail. Johanna mailed most of her letters to an FPO mailbox. There were times when his mail finally caught up with him or he returned to his home base, from where ever Jack was, and found four or five letters and cards waiting from her. She was always the little girl next door, until the last couple of years or so, when something changed. For Jack, it was subtle, undefined, and uneasy. On Jack's last trip to see his parents, Johanna took him to the airport when he left. Right before he walked away from her, she put her arms around his neck and kissed him. The kiss surprised both of them. She stepped back and blushed. Jack put his luggage down, pulled Johanna into his arms, and really kissed her. He has thought about that kiss for almost two years. At the time, he was almost twice as old as she was. Jack knew Johanna's voice. He knew her smell, spicy and soft, probably the bath soap she used and something like baby powder. He knew the feel of her hand when she put it on his arm. What he did not know, was what she looked like. Statistics, sure he knew those, five foot eight, 118 pounds, dark blonde hair, brown eyes, and a small scar on her right knee. Things like a square lower jaw, a cute nose, and pierced ears don't change. She wrote him about that day, and her mother's reaction and Jack sent Johanna a small pair of carved jade earrings. She sent him a photo of the day she received her high school diploma, but he still did not know what she looked like. He did not know what size her breasts were, if her hips were narrow or wide, or if her waist was as small as her mother's was. He had not seen her in almost two years. "Wait, wait, I need to get the foot rests folded up. Golly, you're in a hurry." Johanna complained when he started to push himself out of the wheelchair. "Alright, okay," Jack lowered himself back to the seat, not very patiently, but he let Johanna help him. "It's just getting out of that place. Damn, I'm tired of this." "You're not patient for a patient." She giggled at the double entendre. "Here's the bench, turn around and step back about one foot." "Humph," Jack grumbled, leaning against the back of the seat. "Yo-Yo, will you hold the lighter for me?" he asked, holding out his cigarette lighter as he put a cigarette between his lips. "Okay, Jack-Jack," she used a smart-alecky tone of voice to remind him she didn't like the old nickname. "Ah hell, I shouldn't have done that, huh?" "Yes sir, Major Bledsoe sir." Despite the way she said it, Jack laughed, "Truce, okay?" "Okay," Johanna agreed, letting him know she was just having fun. "So what time tomorrow do the blinders come off?" she asked, her voice turning serious. "I don't know, the nurse just said, sometime after lunch," he grumbled. "Okay. How about if I bring you a plate of enchiladas for lunch and then we can just wait for the doctors?" "Yeah, as long as it's your enchiladas, and not junk from a restaurant," Jack said, and waited to see what Johanna would say. "Hey, how do you know about my enchiladas?" "Ah ha, you're not the only one who writes to me. I'm kidding. Dad says you're a good cook." "He volunteered to help me, if I would fix six packages for him to put in the freezer. He said when your mom fixes healthy food he won't have to go hungry." They sat while Jack smoked and then they walked for a while. He paced his strides to Johanna's steps and slowed down as she did, by sensing her body language transmitted from her shoulder through his hand. Jack knew something was bothering Johanna, she was unusually tense. He had learned she was a quiet person, but not as silent as today. In the last few weeks, they had become comfortable with each other, more than they ever were when she was younger. While their parents worked the last few of weeks ending their school year, finishing their paperwork, and preparing for their vacation, Johanna had spent a couple of nights with her aunt. Most of Tuesday and Thursday she spent with Jack, or as much of those two days as the hospital personnel would allow. Thursday evening she would drive the 150 miles back to their hometown. She usually came back for one long day over the weekend, accompanying his mother and father. However, Jack sensed something was bothering her. He tried telling her a few stories about places he had been or things he had done, but nothing worked. After he smoked another cigarette, he turned halfway toward Johanna and held out his hand. It was a signal he used to let her know he needed to know she was there beside him and that he needed the touch of another person. She put her hand in his and felt him squeeze. "What's wrong, Baby?" He clinched his teeth. He did not mean to use that word. To him it was a term of endearment, but to her it meant she was the youngest of the four children who spent so many years together. Her dad called her Baby, sort of a nickname, until he began to use Yo-Yo. It was the way she said her name when she first started talking and could not say Johanna, because her mother preferred to old German pronunciation. Johanna had tears in her voice when she asked, "Are you going to be alright?" "Hey," he said, as he slipped one arm behind her, the other hand under her arm and easily lifted her up, pulling her over to sit on his lap. "Sh-h-h, sh-h-h," he said when she gasped. Jack pushed Johanna's head against him and held her. "It's going to be okay." He rocked her back and forth for a moment and then relaxed against the back of the bench. "I can see. We already know that. One eye is better than the other, but the damage was to muscle and skin, not the eyes or nerves." "What about them, I mean the military, you know? Will they let you stay, or will they discharge you?" They'd had one conversation about the future of his military career. Jack told her he had asked and was waiting for an answer. He had not mentioned it again. "I'll fight it, if they do. But I have two job offers to choose from, if they win, alright?" Jack felt her nodding, but she did not relax. "But that's not what's really bothering you, is it?" "No." "You're not going to make this easy for me, are you?" "No." Jack knew what the problem was. It was gnawing at him, taking little bites every time she came to visit him. Johanna walked up to stand beside his bed or the chair where he sat, she touched him, and he felt it. Jack knew she would have a counter to every objection he had. He was injured. His career was in jeopardy. His job was dangerous. He was almost fourteen years older than she was. Johanna needed to go to college. She was too young for a relationship. She had never mentioned anything about having a long-term boyfriend. Hell, as far as he knew, she'd never even had a boyfriend. She never mentioned boys in any of the letters she wrote. He thought he was in love with her, but he was not certain. It was just too new. Jack had already learned Johanna was a lot more mature than she was a couple of years ago. He had only kissed her one time. Their parents were going to have a hard time seeing their families joined by another marriage of their children. "Ohmygod," he whispered, realizing where his thoughts are going. "Jo?" "Hm-m-m?" Johanna asked, as her cheek rested against the roughness of his shirt. She was enjoying being this close to him and did not want it to end. "Kiss me." "What?" She sat up, putting some distance between them. "Wait," he said, putting his hands out and bringing them in toward her, until he had his hands on her upper arms. Jack slid his hands up until they are on the sides of Johanna's neck. A few inches higher, and he was holding her face. "Now, kiss me." He guided her face toward him as the young woman leaned forward and kissed him quickly, but returned to her stiff backed position on his lap. "Jo?" When she did not respond he said, "Now, this time, really kiss me." "Jack." "Don't talk dammit, don't think, just kiss me. I have kissed you a sum total, of one time, as long as you don't count a couple of little pecks. I want a real kiss, dammit. Just kiss me." "Jack we're out in the middle of ..." "I don't give a fuck if we have the whole damn hospital watching. Kiss me. Like you mean it, kiss me." Slipping her arms inside his, she put them around his neck and leaned forward, pressing her lips against his. His hands moved, one, going behind her head, and the other, around her back, holding her against him. He took his time to taste her, sliding his tongue across her bottom lip, the tip coming back along the seam between her lips. A soft moan escaped her as he deepened the kiss when she opened her mouth for him. He felt his erection growing, and wanted to smile, but he was too busy kissing Johanna. She was delicious, warm, soft, exciting, and Jack was in heaven having her so near with her responding to him. Johanna's breathing increased as the kiss continued. He felt her breasts rub against him. As carefully as he could manage despite his shaking hand, he moved his hand between them and placed it on her breast. He was rushing, but he could not resist. It had driven him crazy for two years. She pressed herself against him, capturing his hand, and squirmed when she felt his erection under her. Barely able to breathe, Johanna broke the kiss and rested her forehead against his neck, panting. "Oh, baby. Oh my. Oh God. I want a helluva lot more than a kiss, now." He put his hand on the back of her head, holding her against him. His breathing was almost as labored as hers was. "No, no, don't move," he pleaded when she started to get off his lap. He added, "Oh, yes," when she resettled her weight. "Jack?" "No, don't say anything right now. I need a couple of days, alright?" Jack chuckled, "Can you do that, for me?" "I guess so. I'm not sure what..." "Just, wait Baby. Okay?" He waited a moment, and then he added, "I just need a couple of days to decide some things for us. You understand what I mean when I say "for us"?" "For us," it was a statement, not a question. She may have an inkling of what he meant, but he was asking her to wait. "That's my girl," he said, pulling her back to rest against him, with his erection throbbing between them. He didn't care that she felt it. She needed to know what her nearness did to him. *** Although there were cheers in the ward, when Johanna arrived the next day, the cheers didn't begin until she leaned over Jack for a kiss. She blushed as she started to straighten up and Jack caught her. "More," he demanded and pulled her down for a much more thorough kiss. He kept hold of her hand and moved over on his bed, "Sit here beside me so I can touch you." When she sat down, one of the other men raised his voice, "We can take a walk if you two want to lock the door." He appealed to their other roommates, "Right men?" "Sure," was heard along with another positive response. Another patient responded. "I'd rather stay and watch," which was summarily seconded by another, and then a third. "Jack" Johanna appealed quietly to him to do something about the comments. "Pipe down, guys," Jack admonished his friends. "You're just jealous." "Damn right," was repeated from bed to bed until every man had let Johanna know how he felt about her. The unveiling was almost anticlimactic. At least, that was true for the medical people. They knew what to expect. The plastic surgeon knew there was still some work to do on some of the scar tissue, but he wanted to wait a few days, or as long as a week. The eye specialist was very pleased, but still cautious about some nerves near the eye socket. Jack was the most nervous person in the room. Johanna stood across the room, watching, her lower lip held between her teeth. When the bandages were finally removed, she was smiling, the damage that she could see was much less than Jack had described. Jack took a deep breath, let it out, and looked across the room, not paying any attention to the doctors in the room. His eyes searched for Johanna and when he found her, he could not take his eyes off her. Good lord, she was beautiful. She was a pretty, sixteen year old and now, she was breathtaking. The long braid down her back had become a cap of soft curls. He already knew the size and shape of her breasts, or at least one of them, and now he could see both, pressing against the softness of her shirt. Her hips had filled out, and with her mother's narrow waist, she had an hourglass figure. She was taller than he remembered and her legs seemed to go on forever. She was not a little girl anymore. He remembered the wolf whistles when she walked into the ward and could not blame a single man for giving her that salute. However, he may have to be a little stern with Johnson the next time he says, "Marry me, Jo. Marry me." The Unveiling It had been three long months since Savannah's confrontation with her mystery guy and every day that passed she became more and more paranoid. Knowing that any sexual encounter she had could very well be used as future blackmail material, she'd seriously curtailed such activities as best she could. Though she had to concede on one point; her own sex drive was in part to blame for her current predicament. Before, she could embrace every encounter fully and with an open and trusting heart; now, she trusted no one. She especially could not trust herself; more to the point, she could not trust her own judgment. How many of those early encounters had been arranged and directed by Him? How many more since? The thrill of sex was waning, but not the urge; which was a definite problem. Savannah sat in her lush Boston office, in her plushy desk chair, contemplating the view outside. He was out there somewhere, watching; she could feel him. Every area of her life had been affected by his ultimatum. Personal relationships with family and trusted friends were suffering from the backlash of that one day. She rarely visited her parents now; whereas previously she would make the drive to their Connecticut home at least two times a month. She hadn't been to see them since her return; the shame of her predicament prevented it. Just thinking about how they might react should her lifestyle become public knowledge was enough to make her cringe. It had never been an issue before; she'd kept it completely segregated from her family life. The rules were simple: Never fuck a friend or business acquaintance of the family's, and never fuck a family member. And she'd stuck by those rules faithfully for the last fifteen years. Now all the success she'd had with her interior design business and the pride with which her parents had watched her evolve, could all be for nothing. In the end, it would be her fault, not His. Her brother Micah, certainly no choir boy if the tabloids were even partially accurate, would still find it difficult to accept her lifestyle choices. Her sisters, as dear as they were to her, were puritans to the soul. But her parents; well, they were traditional in their Catholic faith, something she'd never been, something her parents had been disappointed about; but then, they believed she was a "good" girl so they'd accepted it. The buzzing of the intercom interrupted her depressing introspection. Thank God. "Yes, Nat?" she enquired of her assistant. "Mr., er, Smith? is here to see you." Excitement bubbled in her blood; perhaps the P.I. she'd hired had discovered something? "Send him in; and Nat, no interruptions." "Yes, ma'am." Moments later Mr. Smith walked in, appearing very dapper and refined in his navy blue suit, brown leather shoes, and expensive brown briefcase. At first glance one might think Mr. Smith to be unprepossessing and, well, bland. But a keen intelligence lurked in those green eyes, and she'd felt the strength of him during their first handshake. He stood a few inches taller than her when she wore four inch heels. Today, however, she'd chosen to wear flats and he towered over her. She eagerly rose from her chair and gestured to the seat across from her. Once he was seated she walked briskly to the door of the office and locked it. Quickly she retrieved a small black box from the locked bottom drawer of her desk and opened it. Nestled inside was an unusual apparatus; it looked like a timer, but in reality it was a de-bugger device. On their first meeting Mr. Smith had given the object to her, ensuring that it would counteract most high-tech listening devices on the market. The "most" worried her but she'd happily paid the steep price for the gadget; in cash, of course. Switching the device on produced "white noise"; and whoever might be listening in would hear that something was going on in the room, but it would come out pure static and any recording would be corrupted. She rarely used the device; she didn't want to arouse any suspicions regarding her investigation. She'd also told Mr. Smith that when entering the building he was to sign in under a fake name, Leon Patterson. Once he'd arrived on her floor he'd tell the guard he was one Michael Rills and was there to speak to the head of accounting. Finally, as a last precaution, he would tell Natalie he was Tobias Smith, a new outsourced buyer for the company. To back that up, they'd filled out a complete resume to be on file. Mr. Smith had also created complete backgrounds for each persona; anyone running a background check would find them legitimate, he assured her. He was very thorough and very good at what he did. "Please tell me you have good news, Mr. Smith" Savannah pleaded. "Better than good news, Ms. DuBois; I have excellent news, in fact. Though I would caution that pursuing this matter further could be problematic." He placed his briefcase on the desk and opened the combination lock. He retrieved file upon file, stacking them neatly on the mahogany surface. Clicking the case shut and placing it on the floor at his feet, he then took the eyeglasses from his shirt pocket and precisely fit them on his nose. If Savannah weren't so impatient to find out what Mr. Smith had discovered she might find the little ritual amusing. She eyed the stack of files with a hum of excitement coursing her spine, and some trepidation as well; Mr. Smith's warning echoed in her head. Her fingers itched to pick the top file and greedily read the contents but she resisted the urge. She redirected her gaze to Mr. Smith with an inquiring look. "Well, Mr. Smith, do tell." "Ahem; of course." He opened the first file and began reading. "His name is Simon Kourt, age 37; born in Stockholm to Neil and Amanda Kourt; has dual citizenship, his mother is American, Boston born and bred. Neil Kourt is an international financier with interests in hotels and media. Simon Kourt runs the Kourt Internationals hotel chain and SNA Kourt Media. No siblings." Mr. Smith paused; letting the small bomb he'd dropped impact in the silence of the room. Simon Kourt was the king of media in the states, though he kept a very low profile. Savannah couldn't recall seeing any pictures of the mogul in any newspaper article or on any television broadcast. His family were worth billions and it was only natural that security surround the Kourt family would be tight. She shakily reached for the water bottle on her desk and stood to walk by the bank of windows. "Go on" she directed him, her tone losing its early buoyancy. "Right. The information was difficult to obtain, but I'd determined early on that the only way Mr. Kourt could be so elusive is if he had a lot of money and power, so naturally I started researching local companies that were on the global markets. It was very tedious, I assure you Ms. DuBois. I also scoured the tabloids and respectable print media; recent and not so recent. I found nothing at first. Luckily, when I was just about to give up, I ran across an old Swedish newspaper clipping of the senior Kourt when he was a younger man; the resemblance between he and the description you gave to me of your, er, friend, was quite startling. Not identical, of course, but very close to. It should be noted, your Mr. Kourt is an only child." Savannah's mind raced with possibilities; explanations for why he'd seduced her into this unlikely scenario, and refused to ex-close any personal information regarding himself and his family. Perhaps, like her, he wished to avoid publicly embarrassing his family; but if that were the case, why blackmail her? Surely he couldn't believe she'd expose the information she'd gleaned about his personal life to the world; it could destroy them both. No matter which way she turned it around in her mind, it didn't make sense. Early on she'd found a joy and relief in their encounters; here was someone who understood her needs, her desires, and wouldn't judge her for them. She could be herself without moral recriminations; she could truly embrace who she was when she was with him. A true equal, on so many levels. But this; this was scary. He had so much power. In comparison her design firm, though growing by leaps and bounds of late, was no match against such a juggernaut. Her frustration erupted, and Savannah found her self face-to-face with Mr. Smith, her hands clenched tightly on his pristine collar. "Have you found where he's headquartered? What friends does he have? Does he have his own family? Does it mention, anywhere in that damned report, that he might have an Achilles heel, Mr. Smith?" "Uhm, er...Ms. DuBois, you're understandably, ehm, overwrought. But could you uh...?" His voice trailed off into silence as Savannah just glared down at him. Mr. Smith seriously thought, for just a moment, that she might wring his neck. Since the true object of her frustration was not handy, perhaps she thought he would do as a substitute. Perhaps he should have asked for a retainer fee. Or hazard pay. Finally she let him loose and Mr. Smith released a sigh of relief. He carefully adjusted his collar, his glasses that had become askew on his face and re-crossed his legs. Savannah carefully sat back down behind the desk, clasped her hands tightly in front of her on the mahogany surface and cleared her throat. "I apologize, Mr. Smith. You are, I know, only the messenger. My actions were uncalled for." Savannah gave him a sickly smile and gestured for him to continue. "No need for apologies, Ms. DuBois; I understand completely." And indeed he did understand her torment. He'd helped many clients who'd been targeted with blackmail threats before, but this case was unique. He could find no justification for Mr. Kourt's actions, except for maybe a sick thrill. Truly the man had to be insane to wish any harm to come to Ms. DuBois; especially emotional harm. Professionally Ms. DuBois was exceptional; on a personal level he found her quite stimulating, and would not hesitate to fuck her thoroughly, should she ask. He was quite too shy and reserved to make the moves on such an exceptional woman, of course; she was out of his league. Morosely he contemplated his perfectly pinned tie before continuing. "Once I knew his identity, it became much easier to track his movements and discover where he spends most of his time. The bulk of his energy is currently focused on new acquisitions in New Orleans; aaahhh, yes, see here." He handed Savannah a file and resumed his tale. "Mr. Kourt very recently purchased two restaurants and three nightclubs in the Bourbon Street area. They were severely damaged during Katrina and require a great influx of cash to make them profitable again. What is curious to me is the second club he purchased; it's not your traditional night club." Savannah looked up, questioning him with a curious, "Strip-club?" "No, not really; it's a mix of styles; part burlesque with a bit in the way of the old prohibition joints back in the 20s thrown in. He seems very intent on getting that one up and running; construction is non-stop around the clock." Renewed excitement lit up her countenance; this could be something she could use. Somehow... "Anything else, Mr. Smith?" "Yes, indeed, Ms. DuBois; there is something else. Mr. Kourt has a son." Savannah parroted the words back at him; "A son?" "Micah Bartholomew Kourt, age 10. He didn't know he had a son until the boy was almost 7; the mother died in a car crash and in her will gave custody of Micah to Simon. Mr. Kourt had DNA tests ordered, of course, but her claim proved to be legitimate. Since then he's been a doting father, and seems determined to keep his existence a secret from the world." "Yes, he would, of course. Micah's his blood; he'd want to protect his son from the pitfalls of being in the public eye." Savannah ruminated on this piece of information but decided in the end she could not use it to her advantage. The child was completely innocent; she could no more harm Micah Kourt than she could her own family. She would not go down that dark road. All she wanted was a way to level the playing field and meet Simon on equitable terms. There was really no need for him to continue with these games. They both knew her sex drive was powerful, and they'd both benefited from it. Was it too much to ask that he respect her boundaries and thereby allow her a true sense of security? She would have been more than happy to continue with their sexual riposte, if he hadn't turned it into something dirty and demeaning. Before, she'd only wanted to learn something about him; a name, for God's sake! He already knew so much about her life, her family; everything. But the question that nagged at her mind now begged for an answer. What had motivated him to continuously manipulate the events in her life and the people around her? "St. Louis." "Pardon me?" Savannah was startled out of her reverie. "St. Louis; it's the cradle of his empire. It's where he is most of the time, when he's not off gobbling up more properties and businesses." Mr. Smith beamed at her. "Mr. Smith, you are brilliant. I could kiss you!" So saying she put words into action and lifted him out of his chair, planting a big smack on his startled mouth. Savannah felt Mr. Smith quiver, then heard him groan. "Well, now you've done it" was all he could say. He sat back down in his chair, dragging him with her. His mouth attacked hers expertly; his tongue invaded ruthlessly past her teeth and engaged her tongue in a duel. Caught unawares by this turn of events, she could only moan helplessly as he stirred her to life. Eagerly she met his tongue and squirmed in his lap. Oh, yeah. It was only when she was kneeling on the floor before him, his cock in her mouth, that she remembered she'd left the blinds open. Then she mentally shrugged; let Simon Kourt videotape this; it would be nothing new. And she would get great satisfaction; not only from this sexual frenzy, but in knowing where his hiding hole was; and that soon, very soon, she, Savannah DuBois, would be free from the tentacles he'd wrapped around her life. The Unveiling Pt. 01 I stepped into tiny puddles on my way up the outer stairway, an aftermath of our storm. The air smelled like a new birth, how I'd missed it so. A year is too long, I thought to myself. I then hushed away the microscopic butterflies that made a home in my stomach as I briskly reached the classroom doors, unusually late this morning. I opened the doors to a dimly lit concrete room, it wasn't much warmer inside than it was outside. You paid me no mind, at least so it seemed, and continued with your presentation on what I perceived to be architecture styles and their history. One photo in particular caught my eyes as I set my bag down quietly. A Russian boarding house. "One of the first introductions to having chimneys on multiple floors!" You mused, double taking at the vintage photo once more. I smiled inwardly at your excitement, but outwardly I kept my eyes focused on the projection screen. Anywhere but on you. I never imagined choosing this class to be a part of my fall schedule would have led me to meet such a rude awakening, both mentally and somatically. Although I began with a huge disdain towards drawing and sketching, you, along with my classmates, have made me want to explore the abilities I obtain but simply cannot see. It's almost the end of the semester now, we've only a few more class meetings to go. I am determined, I am comfortable, and I've come to believe that I am at the end of myself. Although my heart thoroughly aches in your very presence, I believe I've managed the perfect facade. But I notice all too well how I am treated with just the slightest bit of difference compared to the other students. From the very beginning you've always chosen me last. For presentations or even when hands are raised, almost at a reluctance. Maybe I've imagined it, or perhaps it's simply your subconscious setting me apart. Intentional or not, it both frustrates and intrigues me at the very same time. The end of myself, I tell you. I pondered all of these things in my seat as I sketched a few buildings for our upcoming project. My core couldn't help but surge with warmth. I shook my thoughts away, but they returned just as easily. The room was at work now as you finished up your lecture and I could hear the shuffling of supplies and paper throughout, the murmured conversations, as well as the patter of raindrops on the windowed ceiling. I stood up, feeling both eager and faint simultaneously. The end of myself, I thought. I walked to your podium and you hardly noticed until I uttered your name. "Yes?" You turned towards me. My legs almost went out then. "I need to tell you something." I say. "And what's that?" You ask with your all familiar and sarcastic smirk, the same one that shows when you ask the class a question that clearly no one can answer. I leaned in then, it's the closest I've ever been to you, and proceed to whisper into your ear what I did to myself the night before. After finishing a project you assigned. I whispered ever so lowly where each finger traveled. I told you how I'd never done it before; how my legs went numb. I pulled away then, trembling with all of my might. Your face was unreadable. You looked at me for a moment with those icy cobalt eyes and said nothing. I went back to my seat. Moments later you stood and continued to assist others in their progress as if nothing was said at all. It wasn't until our next class meeting, that you called me into your office. Relax, I told myself. You led me in and sat behind your cluttered desk, keeping the door wide open to the rest of the corridor. I stepped in slowly behind you and sat in the cushioned chair in front of your desk; My blood racing to no finish line. "Did you think that was funny? Telling me that in front of a classroom full of my own students?" You asked firmly. I looked at you without reply, remembering the quiet talks we'd had all semester in corners of the classroom. You would tell me about my potential that I still couldn't manage to see as I nodded and smiled softly. I remembered your eyes always locked in mine, like a radar on its target. I never wanted to blink. "Erin," you demanded, "This isn't a joke, do you understand?" "Yes, sir." I whispered, looking to my shoes. "Sir," You echoed. And at this, you stood and closed the door. You sat on your desk now, your leg almost touching mine. "I'm not going to ask you if you're sure about this. I can see you thinking about it all the time, that's why your work stays so mediocre." I winced at your words. My facade, I thought, It was nothing for him. "You need to know that this is not a game, you and I." My heart. "Christ, I'm old enough to be your father." You said flatly. "Perhaps I'm wise enough to be your wife." I said in the same tone as you. You chuckled and shook your head at me. "You told me because you knew I'd be willing all along." You stated, serious once again. I nodded in agreement, "We'd seen it in each other I suppose." You let out a long sigh and it was quiet for a moment. I was afraid to look at you, but your eyes felt like razors in my skin. "Are you shaven?" You asked. A blush spread across my face and a heat in my belly, I looked up at you with widened eyes. "By next class, I want you completely shaven. After your last class you will go to the north campus parking lot and find a driver there. His name is Thomas. You will do as he says, understood?" Speechless, I was a deer in your headlights. "Am I understood?" You prodded. I closed my eyes and relished your authority, and nodded. "Yes, sir." The Unveiling Not long after the doctors completed their discussions, Jack and Johanna agreed that she would drive him several states away for the next round of minor surgeries, after the doctors specifically cautioned him against driving. He needed more time for healing, before he can trust the muscles around his eyes for that kind of movement. So having Johanna to act as chauffer, and a car available would make it easier to get around town, back and forth from temporary housing, and to the various buildings of the large hospital complex. Jack would not have to depend on the frequent use of a taxi or the on base transportation system. He could not stop looking at her as she listened to doctors explain what the next treatments would be. Jack watched her expression when she turned to look at him, to gauge how worried he was about the medical treatments he still faced. He wanted to touch her, hold her, kiss her, but contented himself with holding Johanna's hand, and tried to understand her trembles were because the primary doctor was still withholding permission for him to return to his unit. Nor would the doctor commit to a recommendation that would allow him to remain in the military. Before Johanna left the hospital, her cell phone needed charging and Jack knew he could leave the next day. He called his parents and told them he was just fine, and said, "Yes, sir," at least five times. He also talked to Johanna's dad and said he would take care of her and make sure she got home safely as soon as he got a release to drive. A quick trip to a nearby shopping mall added three more changes of clothes to Johanna's wardrobe and a dent in her credit card balance. She refused to take Jack's credit card, saying she wasn't sure the stores would accept it. She lost an argument with her aunt who insisted Johanna and Jack use her larger vehicle for such a long trip. Aunt Toy also convinced Johanna to bring Jack back to her house for the night so they could make the trip in one day. Toy won the second argument because there was a risk they may have trouble finding overnight lodging during the height of the vacation season on a major interstate highway. **** The next afternoon, they both agreed that using Toy's car was the smartest thing they could have done, despite the higher cost of gasoline. Jack asked several times if Johanna was tired, but she said she was enjoying the trip. It was the first time they had more than a few minutes alone together and they seemed to have a lot of things to talk about, Things that had happened in their lives, the details of which neither of them could remember writing. Just after dark, they were driving up to the temporary military housing office. It took Jack a few minutes to confirm his reservation and sign everything, but they were soon in a fast food restaurant for a quick meal. Their next stop was walking behind a shopping cart at the Post Exchange selecting snacks and shampoo, plus whatever else they walked past that either of them decided they could not do without for the next few days. "Oh shit," Jack said when he stepped into the housing unit. He dropped the suitcases he was carrying and turned back to take a bag of snacks from Johanna. "What?" Johanna said as she walked into the room. "We need to go back to the housing office. We were supposed to get a suite, not a single bedroom." "They're closed," Johanna told him as she walked into the room to leave the bags in the small kitchenette. "Is it that late?" Jack looked at his watch and exclaimed, "Damn. Jo, I'm sorry." "I'm not," she told him walking back out to the car for another load of bags. He watched her walk by him and just stood looking at her as she walked back into the room. "Do you want that coffee now, a soda, or just some water to drink?" "Jo?" Ignoring him, she said, "You go take your shower and I'll make the coffee." "Jo," he tried again. Johanna pointed to the bathroom and says, "You shower and I will shower, and then we will talk. Okay?" She giggled when Jack said, "Yes ma'am. Just like I said, I'll go take a shower while you make me some coffee." "And find me that tube of stuff I'm supposed to put on that scar," she told him as the bathroom door closed. Jack was closing the latches on his suitcase and putting it in the small closet when Johanna walked out of the bathroom. "You make good coffee...oh my god. Damn," he said as he sat down on the end of the bed. "Jo, where did you get that...that, what the hell is that?" Johanna turned around quickly, showing the negligee and the very, very, brief sheer lace panties underneath. "You like?" Johanna bent over and showed him a lot more than cleavage. "It's one of Aunt Toy's old costumes." "Aunt Toy? Aunt Toy? That's a...it's a...like...that's something a dancer in a strip joint would wear." "Yeah, how do you think she bought her house and everything else? She danced until a few years ago." Johanna walked over to stand in front of Jack and used the shin of one leg to separate his knees. He looked down at what she was doing and asked, "Your Aunt Toy was a tittie dancer?" Johanna nodded as she stepped between his legs, put her arms around Jack's neck, pulled his head forward to rest against her, and then leaned over to run her tongue around the curl of his ear. She sucked his earlobe into her mouth and flicked it back and forth. Surprising him, she gave him a shove, which he did not resist. He landed on his back on the bed and watched Johanna climb on top of him, her knees pressed against his ribs. Johanna lifted her hips and began to pull his t-shirt out of his jeans. She slid her hands under his shirt, moving her hands from side to side until she had the shirt all the way up to his neck. She leaned over, kissed Jack softly, and then straightened up. "Jack, I don't know what I'm supposed to do next," Johanna's chin trembled. "Aunt Toy said all I needed to do was wear this and you would do the rest." He put his arms around her, pulling her down to rest against him and slowly rolled her to the side. "Are we going to talk now?" When she nodded, he brushed the hair away from the side of her head and reminded her, "I told you I needed a couple of days." She nodded again. He leaned over and gently kissed her, "So, what do you want?" "You," she answered, and lifted her hand to gently touch one of the scars above his eyebrow. "I just want you." "You don't know what you're asking," his voice was deep and husky. "Yes, I do," she responded, and then Johanna surprised him. She listed most of the reasons he has been telling himself the last two days, his age, her age, his job, his current career, or the new one he will have if he could stay in the service. "But none of that matters. I don't really know if you want me. Right now, that's all that matters to me." She took a deep breath and finally said quietly, "I've saved myself for you, Jack." "I was afraid of that," he admitted quietly, watching her eyes fill with tears. "Oh please, don't be afraid. One of us is enough." Johanna raised her head and put her face in the softness of his neck. "Yeah, I know. Okay, alright. I want to crawl inside you and stay there all night." He lifted her up to face him and kissed her hard, moving over her mouth, and finally raised his head to look at her. Before she could say anything, he held up one hand, "Baby, it's late, you're tired, I'm exhausted, and I'm not ready. I want this to be very special for both of us. Can I have one more day, please?" "Thank you. Can I go to sleep now?" At least she had her answer, sort of. "Can I sleep with you?" He had been thinking he would probably end up on the floor, but now, he had a chance to be as close to her as he wanted and was not going to pass up that opportunity. "Will you hold me? I'm just a little frightened right now." "Yeah, I want to do that. But, you need to take this thing off. It's itchy and it's definitely not how I've imagined you for the last two years." **** "Jo. Jo, honey, be still, don't move," Jack groaned against the back of her neck. "Um-m-m," was Johanna's wordless response, as her hips moved slowly, up and down, rubbing along his erection. Jack's arm was all the way across her. Only a very thin t-shirt was between his palm and her nipple as his fingers slowly squeezed her breast. He pulled his fingers from her breast and slid his hand down, across the flat plane of her stomach, inside her panties. He continued down, until his hand was cupping her sex, his middle finger slipping between the lips of her vulva. She was wet, oh so wet. He lifted his finger and then laid it against her and pressed his flat finger down, until it separated the outer lips again. He did it again and again, lifting his finger and pressing it down, spreading her moisture around. Each time the base of his finger rested between her lips, he slid from side to side across her clit. He whispered in her ear, "Easy baby. Let me do this for you. Just enjoy it. Mercy you are wet." She was panting, moving back against him, and twisting as he stimulated her. His mouth moved down her neck, back up, and then to the soft spot under her ear. Suddenly she gasped and arched her back as his finger slipped out. His hand held her heat, feeling the muscle contractions, while her legs clamped his hand and her juices seeped through his fingers. He could smell the musk of her climax, and felt a shudder go across her shoulders, as she held herself pressed back against him. He was still, holding her, allowing her to relax and her breathing to return to normal. "Jack, why did you do that?" He chuckled, nuzzled the back of her neck, and spoke softly, "I just wanted to touch you." Jack slipped his hand out of her panties; put his hand further between her legs, under his erection, pressing it up against her wet panties. He slowly moved his hips, sliding his fingers up and down along his cock, pressing himself against her. "I told you to be still." "I couldn't, I mean, it felt so good. I was tingling." "I know baby, now be still," he told her again. Instead, Johanna lifted one leg and laid it across his upper leg. She put her hand down between her legs and slowly closed her hand around the base of his cock, holding him and a handful of his sweat pants. Still moving his hips, he told her, "Not so tight Baby, easy. Oh lord, cheesh, damn, almost there Baby." He grabbed the waist of his sweatpants, jerked them down, put her hand back around his cock, and shoved his fingers inside the leg of her panties. He pushed two fingers inside her heat and moved them in and out to the rhythm of his movements. He growled in her ear, "Hold me baby, oh fuck, I'm gonna cum, Baby, hold me, hold me, ahh-h-g-g-g." Johanna felt the throb of his climax rippling across her fingers, his hot cum hitting her thigh and his hot breath on the back of her neck. As his cock jerked in her hand, she shuddered when Jack's finger scraped across her tender clit and moisture flooded down her leg. Jack pulled her shoulder toward him as he moved away from her, until she was flat on the bed, so he could lean over, and kiss her. His mouth moved from her mouth across her cheek, to her ear and back to Johanna's mouth. Pushing his tongue into her, nibbling on her lower lip, he continued kissing her as he worked his way down her neck, while his hands hold her breasts. Finally able to slow down, he rested his forehead on hers, their breathing still ragged and fast. "Damn, I didn't mean to do that. It's not safe for me to be this close to you." Johanna saw Jack smile and the twinkle in his eyes, something she had missed for so long. She closed her eyes, "I was dreaming about you. Was that what it feels like, Jack?" "Yeah, but it's a whole lot better." He rubbed his chin along the side of her neck. She hunched her shoulders to get away from his rough day old beard. "Now, get up and go take a shower, while I fix the coffee. We have places to go, people to see, and things to do." She dressed and dried her hair while Jack showered and shaved. When he walked out of the bathroom, he stopped, and just stared at her. She was standing with her arms above her head, brushing her hair. She was wearing stockings, heels, and a dress that emphasizes her small waist. It fit her figure as if it was made especially for her. "Ohmygod, is that the dress you were wearing one day last week?" "Yeah, I guess so," she answered as she turned around and looked at him, not sure what he was asking. She walked across the room and stood in front of him, rose to her toes, and kissed him on the mouth. "No wonder," Jack exclaimed. "Oh my, do you have any idea how beautiful you are?" He took her hand, led her to the bed, sat down, and pulled her between his legs so he could rest his cheek against her as he wrapped his arms around her. "What's wrong Jack?" "There is absolutely nothing wrong, Jo. Everything it just wonderful and I'm the happiest man you will ever know." He was not going to tell her that one of the other patients on the ward, Johnson, told him Johanna was the most fuckable woman he had ever seen. He felt like he would explode all over the man, until Johnson said Jack did not need to worry about Jo. She was never going to look at another man as long as Jack Bledsoe was in her life. **** Johanna was in a new and unknown world. She watched Jack as he put on his uniform, clothes she had only seen in the movies, on television, or the news. She learned to walk on Jack's left side, because he wanted to hold her hand and he needed his right arm free to give or return a salute and participate in bone crushing handshakes. She lost track of the number of times she heard, "Hey, Bledsoe," or "Is that you, Bledsoe" and then stood still as men slapped backs, punched arms, grasped shoulders, and tried to avoid shedding tears when they greeted someone they had not seen in a long time, or never expected to see again. Johanna also lost track of the number of times one of those men raised his eyebrows when Jack introduced her as "Miss Johanna Preston" and felt the gentle warmth from the easy handshakes she received, along with a few winks, and at least four kisses on her cheek. She blushed from one man's marriage proposal, done on bended knee, despite the red flush that went up Jack's neck. She watched men eat a tremendous amount of food, carry loads she could not begin to lift, and move about with a confidence few civilian men demonstrate. She sat on hard chairs while Jack followed a secretary, or a clerk, into some very large offices, which he left later, sometimes with a scowl on his face and others, with a solemn face she learned to recognize as his pleased, but not particularly happy, look. Every time he emerged from an office and saw Johanna sitting waiting for him, reminded him how happy he was to have her with him. When he left those administrative and command offices, Johanna asked him questions that caused him to think about what he really wanted to do for the remainder of his career. They ate fast food for lunch and started working their way through a very large medical complex, aided by a map, which helped them find all the different buildings Jack needed to visit to schedule a whole list of appointments. Sometimes she waited in the car, parked near a small building. Other times she went inside a large building with him, walking down halls, looking for the various offices where he needed to make appointments or confirm others already made for him before they left the hospital. Her calm reassurance of some of the medical terms and procedures surprised him at first, until he learned how much research she had done during the weeks between learning of his initial injuries and the final removal of the bandages. Sitting with the map on his lap, Jack directed her down several streets of the military base. "Alight, turn left at the next corner and turn into the parking lot on the right side." "That's a church?" "Yeah, it's a chapel, come on," he said as he opened his door and walked halfway around the car to take Johanna's arm. So late in the day, the inside of the building was gloomy, but Jack seemed to know where he was going. He walked all the way to the front of the chapel and pulled Johanna down to sit beside him on one of the front row pews. They sat still for a few moments. It was quiet inside, the late sun shone through the stained glass windows, spreading color across the room. In a subdued voice, Johanna said, "It's pretty in here." "Yeah, I like it, too." He picked up her hand and held it for a few moments, looked at one of the windows, and then turned his attention to her. "Jo, I'm in love with you." When she turned to him, he added, "Wait. Don't say anything. You were always the little girl next door, the pretty, little girl next door. The letters you sent me sort of kept me sane, kept me grounded, especially after Becky and George. You were always there reminding me why I was doing what I did. A couple of years ago, the last time I was home, when you took me to the airport, you kissed me. Oh mercy, it was like an explosion went off inside me. I remember kissing you back. I could not come home the next year. I was too afraid of what I felt for you." Jack leaned over and kissed Johanna very gently. "A few weeks ago, I wrote my dad a letter. I sent it to the school because I didn't want Mother to know about it. I sort of hinted about how I felt, and about kissing you. I told him about all the things that concerned me, but that I wasn't going to let that stop me from coming home on my next leave. I had to know if what I felt was real or something else. I guess between the time of my letter, and the day I was injured, there wasn't really enough time for him to write back. Anyway, the first time he and Mom came to see me in the hospital he made some excuse to get mom out of the room. Dad told me that I was a man and I had to make a man's decisions." Jack slid off the pew and knelt in front of Johanna, took her hands in his and said, "Johanna Preston, will you marry me?" "Yes." "Just, yes, it's really that easy for you?" "Yes, Jack. I love you." She put her hand on his cheek and leaned forward to kiss him gently. "Whew, I'm not real sure what to do next. I want to talk to our folks and tell them how much you mean to me. I want to put a ring on your finger. I have all this medical stuff to get through. I want to give you time to plan a wedding. I want to marry you. I need to know if I can keep doing my job, or if you would prefer a civilian life. They will let me stay as an instructor if I can't go back to my unit. I don't know if you want to start a family now, or wait so you can go to school. I don't know if I can be around you every day and wait. But above all of those, I want to make love to you." "Okay." "Okay?" He chuckled, "You're supposed to make it a little harder for me to decide." "Why?" "Because, this morning I came so close to breaking a promise I made my Dad. I told him I would let you make the decisions about children, college, and if I stay in the service." "I've already done that." "What do you mean?" Johanna explained that she would be happy with whatever he decided to do with his career and would decide about college when that decision was made. Then she looked around to make sure no one would overhear what she said and leaned over to whisper in Jack's ear, "I opened the second month's birth control pill pack Sunday morning, Major Bledsoe." **** They left the military base for a family style restaurant, where they sat side-by-side in a booth. Their conversation was disjointed, with one of them beginning a sentence and stopping, and then the other doing the same. There were just too many unknowns for them to make any real plans. Several times throughout the meal, they simply sat, smiling at each other, and held hands. The Unveiling When they arrived back at their room, Jack unlocked the door and watched Johanna walk into the room ahead of him. He was almost afraid to say anything to her and she was trembling, unable to look at him. Jack began to remove his uniform and stopped to walk across the room to take her chin in his hand. He leaned forward and kissed Johanna softly on the lips. He let his kiss linger for a moment until she put her arms around him. He kissed her again, this time with his lips parted, as his tongue moved across her lips. She parted her lips to receive his tongue and tentatively shared hers with him. He put his hands on her waist, as his kisses grew stronger and more passionate until she was running her hands up and down his back. She brought one hand to brush across his bare chest and started to fumble with his belt. He stopped kissing her and caught her hands as he stepped back. "Jo, do you want to me fuck you, or do you want to make love?" He asked the question harshly, wanting to get her attention. Her breath caught and she looked up at him, understanding showing in her eyes. "I want to make love." "I do too, Baby, so slow down. I want to enjoy you and make our first time together something we will always remember." She nodded her understanding, the fear he saw in her eyes, during their dinner, slowly replaced with a smile. "Why don't you get ready for bed," Jack told Johanna and then added, "And not that stripper's thing, either. Save it for our anniversary." He chuckled and playfully swatted her on her sweet bottom when she turned to go toward the bathroom. "Well, it got your attention," she told him. Jack nodded, "Yes, it did! But you got my attention a couple of years ago and it has only grown stronger with every letter." Returning from the bathroom in her long t-shirt, Johanna found Jack in bed, wearing only a pair of sweat pants. With his pillow behind his back, leaning against the headboard, he was watching television. He moved her pillow against the headboard beside his and patted the bed beside him. "Is that one of the shirts I sent you?" "Yes, I think this one is my favorite." She turned all the way around, showing him how well the pink camouflage t-shirt fit. It really did not fit at all. On Johanna, it was huge. She climbed on the bed, on her hands and knees, boldly leaning over to kiss him. He grabbed her before she could back away and pulled her into his arms, almost on top of him, his thigh between her legs. "Baby, I may have to get you a stack of these and hide the rest of your clothes." "Oh yeah? Well, I can't go out in public wearing this," she said as she kissed him again. "That's the idea. Oh Lord, kiss me again and pinch me so I'll know I'm not dreaming." Jack put his hands under her arms and pulled her up to kiss her gently, letting his tongue slide into her mouth, and accepted a similar response from her as he continued his slow tongue dance with her, while his hands roamed over her back, learning the feel of her. He moved his hand between them and slid it across her stomach, working his way upward until he had his hand around one breast. He was bold and possessive and he wanted her to know it. Jack moved his mouth to her cheek and then to her ear, gently sucking her earlobe into his mouth. He ran his tongue under her ear and down her neck, kissing her gently as his hands moved over her breasts. His thumbs moved across her nipples, slowly until they were hard. As he kissed her neck, he lifted Johanna higher, and slid down on the bed, until he can raise the bottom of her shirt to move his mouth across her breasts, kissing the soft flesh, his hand under her breast holding it for his exploration. Johanna moaned in response when he lingered on a nipple to suck it into his mouth and nibble on it. Jack moved to the other breast, holding it, savoring the taste of her skin on his tongue. Her breasts were firm, but yielded to his hand. The areolas are light pink, with darker pink nipples. Raising her head for just a moment, Jack said, "Oh God, I love the taste of you," before he had her breast back inside his mouth. He teased the nipple, running his tongue around the hard nub and gently brushed his teeth across the point, hearing Johanna take a deep breath each time he did it. They are absorbed in the sounds, feelings, and flavors of each other. They give little attention to the television as the automatic timer turned it off. They were unaware of being left with the faint light coming into the room from the slightly parted blinds. Johanna had never been touched like this and Jack had waited a long time for what she offered him, without restraint. She was sky and tentative when she touched him, but she yielded to him when he touched her. She held his head and arched her back, as if she could push more of her breast into his mouth. Jack moved his hands to her sides, sliding his hands up and down, enjoying the silky feel of her skin and then to her back, to hold her against him. He did not leave her breasts as he moved his hands down her back, sliding across Johanna's panties, cupping her roundness, sliding his fingers back and forth in the seams above her thighs. She was wet, so very wet. With Johanna's sex resting against his thigh, her panties were soaked through. Jack smelled the musk of her arousal. He inhaled the slightly spicy smell of her and recalled it was how he recognized Johanna's presence when she came to the hospital, realizing she was lightly aroused when she stood beside him. This was a sensual woman. Johanna moved against him, her wordless moans telling him of the pleasure she felt from his touch and his mouth. Her breathing was faster, with frequent deeply indrawn breaths, when he touched a sensitive spot or suckled her nipple into his mouth. He held her, matching her size to his, finding the place where she felt just right in his arms. The tremor that went through him was surprising. Jack did not realize he was so exhilarated. He took a deep breath and tried to will himself to relax, pulling Johanna against him, settling her into the circle of his arms, holding her, allowing her to grow comfortable being nearly naked as he moved his hands over her. When he felt her wiggle, rubbing herself against him and moving her hands across him, he pulled her t-shirt over hear head as he rolled her over onto her back. He leaned over her placing his face on her chest, running the tip of his tongue in a small circle, tickling her, feeling her squirm, and laughing when she tried to escape, and then he pulled her back to him. When he raised his head to kiss the hollow of her throat, dipping his tongue into the small dent, she raised her chin giving him the access he sought. Jack wanted to talk to her, ask her if what he was doing felt good to her. Yet, he did not want to take his mouth from her. He realized everywhere he touched, licked, or kissed she opened that part of herself to him. Although Johanna's movements were tentative, she was touching him, too. Her eyes were closed and her hands were moving as if she was blind, learning the feel of him. Johanna's hands moved up and down Jack's back, her fingers traced the shape of his shoulder blades. Then her nails slowly scraped a path up and down, sending chills across his back, and up the back of his neck. Her hands moved up to his head, her fingers running through his hair, pressing against his scalp, and holding his head against her applying pressure, or to the sides of his face trying to pull him away from her, until Jack knew how much stimulation she wanted. He lifted his head and kissed her mouth, sucking on her tongue, but abandoned her lips to kiss the top of her cleavage and around her breasts. He took her hands and spread her arms away from her body, denying her the ability to hide anything from him. He had dreamed of having her like this, and yet, he had not realized how much he wanted her. It had been a nebulous desire to hold her or kiss her and was now a raging need that heated his blood and throbbed throughout his body. Yet, Jack wanted to take this time with Johanna, show her slowly how much pleasure he could give her. She whimpered as he drew each nipple into his mouth as his hands worked her panties down her hips, off her bottom, and down her thighs, exposing her neatly trimmed mound. Her panties were around her knees. She worked her legs to free them from constraint and spread her legs apart giving him room to move between her knees. He sat back on his heels and looked at the beautiful woman spread before him. When Johanna was still a slender sixteen-year-old, she had captured his attention. What he saw before him now, was a beautiful woman, lush with the fullness of her breasts, and the width of her hips. He could not resist. He rested his hands on her thighs and brushed his palms all the way up her body until his hands cupped around her shoulders. Jack leaned over her, his hot breath blowing on her as his hands went back down until he was once again resting on his heels. Over and over, he moved along the different shapes of her, as she watched him coming toward her and retreating. He moved his hands to the inside of her thighs and upward, bringing his fingers up to the flat plane of her belly and turned his wrists to slide down the outside of her hips and thighs. As Jack's hands moved, he leaned forward and breathed in the smell of her sex. Johanna was making noises, wordless groans of pleasure from the warmth and feel of his hands. She was moving beneath him, slowly turning her hips from side to side and then sliding her hips down before pulling them back up. The next time his hands brushed across her belly, he rested his cheek on her belly, turned his face, dipped his tongue into her belly button, felt her body lurch, and then felt her lift her hips to accept him. He left a trail of wet kisses down her stomach until his chin rested on her mound. Jack could not get enough of the feel of Johanna under his hands. The next time he drew his hands up the inside of her thighs he rested his hands around her sex, rubbing his thumbs up and down the lips of her vulva. He moved down on the bed until he could put his tongue between his moving thumbs. His tongue went up and down the outer lips, in a big circle, following his moving thumbs. "Oh, oh, oh, Jack," Johanna said, taking in a deep breath, and then exhaled, "Ah-h-h," as him mouth began to pleasure her. He slid his tongue between the lips and did not move any deeper until she had spread her legs as far apart as she could get them. When she was fully open to him, he used the flat of his thumbs to spread her open. Her wetness was seeping out of her and he used his tongue to spread it around, dipping into her moistness over and over, sucking the moisture into his mouth, taking her essence into himself. He moved his hand under his chin, one finger gently touching Johanna, sliding his finger up and down, and slowly pushing his finger inside her, finding her hot and so wet, and then slowly pulling his finger out. Jack teased her, pushing one finger just barely into her, feeling her muscles squeeze and relax, squeeze and relax. Jack marveled at how her muscled mashed his knuckles when he put a second finger inside her and worked back and forth feeling her warm wetness lubricate its passage. She continued to squeeze and relax. He saw the muscles of her stomach moving. Johanna's clit was already peeking out from its hood. He felt the hard nub beneath his tongue as he slid his tongue over it. She gasped and jerked in response. He placed his flat tongue on her clit and rested there for her to become accustomed to the feel of his mouth on her. He licked upward, rested his tongue on her clit, and then licked upward again. He continued to raise her level of arousal. Then suddenly, he thrust his fingers into her and sucked her clit into his mouth, tickling it with the tip of his tongue. Her small climax was sudden, throbbing, and caused her hips to jerk upward as she groaned. Jack held his mouth against her, resting at the entrance, lingering, licking gently around the entrance, experiencing her climax. As she came down from her climax, he suddenly drove his tongue forward, deep into her love tunnel, forcing his tongue inside her as deep as he can go and licked around, scooping up all the juices, while she writhed around above him. He waited for Johanna, cherished her, and felt her move toward him for more of his attention. Preparing himself for her next climax, Jack positioned her legs over his shoulders, his arms around each leg, holding her as he used his mouth to stimulate her. Her juice was flowing, her breathing was ragged, and Johanna was moaning, saying his name, and pleading. He grasped her clit with his lips and sucked it into his mouth, his teeth gently scraping across it. This sent her over the edge into an orgasm, which shook her body and released a flood of sweet ambrosia into his mouth. He did not allow her to rest, he returned to his ministrations. Within a minute, she was shaking from another climax, quickly followed by a third, fourth, or fifth. Jack was not counting. He was showing Johanna how much he enjoyed her. Her juices flowed freely, despite her pleas for him to stop. Lifting himself above her, he kissed his way up her body, resting his mouth against her soft neck. He held her, soothed her, touched her, and allowed her to calm down. He moved to the side, putting one arm under her and held her, sliding his hand over her, while she relaxed after her euphoria, feeling the warmth and closeness of him beside her. When her breathing returned to normal, she turned to hold him. He was stroking her sex, beginning to stimulate her. "Jack, can I ... I mean, I enjoyed everything you ... it was wonderful. But, can I taste you?" "I want that. But later please, I still want to make love to you." "That wasn't ..." "In a way, yes it was. I enjoy it so much, I sort of think of it as taking care of my lady." He leaned over, placing his lips on hers. When Johanna responded, Jack sucked her tongue into his mouth, knowing she could taste herself on his mouth and tongue. Jack slipped out of his sweatpants as he raised himself above her, pressed his knee between her legs to separate them, and moved above her, resting some of his weight on her, his cock resting on her mound. She spread her legs wider as he slid his cock through her wetness. She smiled and closed her eyes, took a deep breath and relaxed. "I love you Johanna Preston," he told her. She opened her eyes, lifted her hands, and held his head, pulling him toward her, "I love you, Jack Bledsoe," she said against his mouth. He slid the head of his cock into her. Her eyes open wide and her mouth formed an "O" of pleasure and surprise. She shivered, smiled, and whispered, "More." He stopped and gave her several tiny thrusts back and forth before pushing another inch into her. Johanna was tight, but so wet he had no trouble entering her. Jack felt the resistance of her hymen and rested a moment. "I don't want to hurt you, Baby." Jack was hard. All the time he had tasted her, he had throbbed with his desire for her. Johanna lifted her hips. She was tight, holding him inside her. She said it again, this time louder, "More, Jack." He pressed harder, and then a little harder, pulled back a little, and kissed her hard and demanding, bruising her if he must, taking her attention away from what he would do. Suddenly, he jerked forward. He felt himself break through as she released a low moan and shuddered. Jack rested a moment, allowing her to stretch to accommodate him, and then continued to push into her, watching her face as she squeezed her eyes shut and them opened them, smiling at him. "More?" she asked, doubt in her voice that she could handle any more. Jack shook his head and Johanna nodded, took a deep breath, and lowered her shoulders back to the bed, breathing hard. For a moment he could not move, the sensitivity of being fully sheathed in the woman he loved was an intensity he would never tire of feeling. He pulled back and pushed forward, unable to resist the animal need that rose to demand he move within her. Jack lowered his head and slid his cock in and out of her as her muscles gripped him. It was a primal urge, mindless, and as old as time. When he had satisfied the first urges, he remembered the woman beneath him. He watched Johanna and slowed down, easing in and out seeing her face as he pulled away from her and her smile as he pushed against her, waiting for her to begin to share some of the intensity he felt. For a few intense moments, Jack pounded against her and heard her grunt with each stroke. He slowed his movements again, seeing Johanna smile with the gentle movements. When he again changed to hard thrusts, she lifted her hips each time he pushed against her. He had found the rhythm Johanna enjoyed. He slowed, just barely rocking against her, until she began to move beneath him, and pushed her hips up, to take him into her depths. He settled into a smooth rhythm with much of his weight resting on her, holding her down and then he straightened his arms, changing the angle of penetration. His arms burned as he continued to move against her. He watched her, waiting for her. He felt her muscles tighten and throb around him and a release of her fluids as she drew a sharp breath, followed by a whimper. He slowed his movements as her muscles contracted around him, squeezing him, pumping him. There was a vibration in his balls as his own climax approached. He wanted this time with her to go on all night, but it could not be. He exploded, surprising him with pluses through his entire body. His cock expanded and throbbed with the pulses. He clenched his jaws as cum throbbed into her. His movements were no longer even. He jerked, his head moving with each spurt. A shudder moved across his shoulders and chills surged down his back. "Oh, it's hot, Jack." "You feel that?" he asked, panting and trying to breathe in and out evenly, after his exertion. She nodded, "Yes, it tingles. I like it." Jack chuckled and leaned forward to kiss her, "When we decide it's the right time. We'll let the tingle make a baby for us." He rolled off her and pulled her into his arms, feeling the after-shocks that caused her to tremble, holding the most precious thing in his life. His hands moved over her, as they had done earlier, soothing her, touching her, showing her how much he loved her. "Jack?" "Hm-m-m?" "Will it," she hesitated for a moment, rubbing her hand up and down his chest. "Will it always be that good?" "Well-l-l," he drawled. When she used her fingernails to scrape along the center of his chest, he caught her hand and told her, "I expect it will be much better." "Wow." **** Thanks for reading this work. Please vote to indicate how much you enjoyed it. Leave your feedback, even if the comments are negative. I will respond if you will leave contact information. It is the only way I will know how much you enjoyed my effort, and furnish the best reason to improve my writing. Thanks again, 2Xwidderwoman