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Worth Waiting

By: julybear7



Shit happens, and sometimes, produces a rose. Two strangers share a dreadful experience and fall in love. It happens. I hope you enjoy this small tale. Jb7


Guy Foster was a talented weaver/fabric designer, with samples of his work on display in collections around the world. Up until his wife had passed away at a much too early age, he had been a regular in both invitational and juried art shows. With her passing, he had lost his muse and had turned from producing art to teaching others how. A good teacher, popular with students, he soon found himself involved with students' activities beyond the classroom.

Already on track for an administrative post, the major event which pushed/vaulted him into the University Administration was a student strike protesting random searches of student vehicles legally parked on campus. Several students had taken over the Arts Center building and were requesting face to face talks with the President of the University. Calling them hooligans, the President not only refused to acknowledge them, but had ordered campus security to clear the building.

Hearing this, fearing for the safety of the students involved, and for the irreplaceable art works in the building, Guy grabbed a bull horn from one of the security officers and approached the building, identifying himself and asking to talk to someone who could negotiate for the students. As he started up the short flight of steps into the building, the main entrance doors opened and a male student came out to greet him.

Guy quickly apprised him of the President's stance and orders. He promised to advocate for the students if they left promptly and peacefully. He had just finished speaking when campus security shot a tear gas cannister at the entrance. With a kick which would have netted him a job with either a pro football or soccer team, Guy returned the cannister halfway to the police line.

Without considering what he was saying, Guy lifted the bull horn to his mouth and, for all the world to hear, shouted, "Who the fuck did that? What the fuck are you people thinking? Get the fuck away from here! Right now! I'm assuming authority here; these student's are my responsibility and you are not needed!"

He saw the campus cops back off and group in the parking lot across the street from the Art Center. When he turned back to the entrance the student had retreated inside the building and disappeared. He turned back to say something to the security team and saw one of them approaching him, hands held high, carrying a walkie talkie. The officer stopped at the bottom of the steps. "President deGraaf wants to speak with you," he stated, holding out the radio.

Guy motioned the officer to come closer. He had seen the TV cameras from the local TV station , and felt the administration would not want to be seen as unreasonable in the situation. The popular professor had the officer show him how to use the hand held radio, then took it and spoke, "Guy Foster here."

"Foster, you asshole! Do you know what you're doing? Giving those hooligans assistance!"

"Excuse me, sir. Those hooligans, as you call them, have public sympathy on their side. Besides that, they are sitting on approximately two million dollars worth of irreplaceable art works, which if damaged in the melee caused by campus security reclaiming the building forcefully, will be essentially uninsured. They also happen to be right; the searches are illegal."

"So are their actions! What do you mean, the art works would not be insured?"

"The campus police are not a government force. They are one group of civilians, even though employed by the University, owners of the property, attempting to wrest control of a property from another group of private citizens, who, in this case, are customers of the owner. Courts have recently supported the contention by insurance companies that this meets the criteria for civil strife, and, if it gets violent, a riot, exempting insurance companies from liability for damages."

"Horseshit!" the President exploded. He recalled reading about that decision in the Higher Education Journal recently, about a similar situation in NYC. "Can you really get those kids out of there?"

"I'll need to guarantee them a real opportunity to present their grievances and have them addressed."

"Shit, I'm getting too old for this job," quietly snorted the 60-year old official. Guy could hear the forced exhale of breath as the President reached his decision. "OK, I'm appointing you as staff to the Dean of Student Services, effective immediately. Do what you have to do, but get them out of that building, and back to class."

"Very well, sir. First will be to remove the security personnel. You need to do that."

"As we speak," the President replied. Guy looked across to the parking lot as he handed the radio back. The campus police were pulling out of the parking lot. When they had all gone, he turned and banged on the door. It opened immediately.



That had been five years ago. Now he was Dean of Students, in line to replace the President when he retired in two years. The school was a small, prestigious school in a medium sized Midwest city. 

They offered a five year BA program, requiring a scholastic year abroad during the fourth and fifth years. While the students could fit the year abroad in however they wanted, the most popular time was the second semester of the fourth year, with the summer free in the country of choice. They would then complete the year of study the next fall, and finish up the second semester of the fifth year back on campus.

The students could choose to study in Europe, Japan, Brazil, Argentina, or, with the proper background in Sciences, Antarctica. Admission to the study abroad program w as highly competitive. This year there had been over 500 applicants for 50 available slots. 

Students were selected by a joint committee of faculty and students. The committee comprised ten students who had just completed their study abroad, and eight faculty, representing the various disciplines the University offered as major courses of study, along with a member from the University Curriculum Committee, and Guy, the committee chairperson.

Guy hurried through the early January snow to the first meeting of the selection committee. He had seen the member list. All the students were at the top of their college's list, academically and in degree of involvement with the school. Over their academic career, he had met and worked with all of them. 

Similarly, he knew all the faculty members, with the exception of the new rep from the curriculum committee, whom he knew by reputation, and a brand new faculty member from the College of Fine Arts–a Phil someone. There had been a message on his voice mail about the change, but the last name had been slurred so he didn't get it.

As he approached the Student Union, where the meeting was to be held, he noticed a tall, attractive, dark haired woman about his own age looking at a slip of paper and looking around at the campus buildings. Making a deductive leap, he approached her from behind. About a yard from her, he softly asked, "Excuse me. Would you be Dr. Phil from the Art Department?"

She gave a small squeek as she spun around. "Uh, yes, I'm Phyllis Everett, without the doctor. Could you tell me which is the Student Union? I'm due at a meeting ten minutes ago."

"Don't worry; so am I, and I'm the chairperson, Guy Foster. I could have sworn Steffan said Dr. Phil." He pointed at one of the buildings and began to walk. She fell in along side him.

"He's just being generous. I'm all done except for the dissertation, which has been sitting on my chairman's desk for the past year."

"Personal or professional?" he asked as he opened the door to the Union.

"What?" she replied, giving him a quizzical look.

"It's been my observation that, once a dissertation is finalized, if it's not published promptly, there is either a problem between the candidate and people on his committee, or they don't like the results. Usually that's because it conflicts or challenges their publicly stated opinions." He pointed to an open door. "Here we are."

The meeting broke up at five. They had paired faculty and student members, discussed criteria for selecting the foreign study students, and distributed the applications randomly among the pairs. Each pair had fifty-one or -two apps, from which they had to choose eight to present to the committee. A date in late February was chosen to meet for the first round.

As they were getting their stuff together to leave, Guy spoke, "Dr. Everett, could I see you for a moment?" She lingered, and when the room was empty, approached him. "I just wanted to apologize in case it seemed like I was prying, or over stepping any boundaries."

"Please, call me Phyllis or Phyll. There wasn't any offense. You left out the third common reason, that it's not worth defending. My chairman hasn't given me any feedback, nor given the other members of my committee their copies. Steffan is my distant member and wasn't aware that it was done until I called him for a job last month."

"Last month? I wasn't aware..."

"Probably not. I called to see if he knew of any vacancies in Art History. It happened that Lil Pedersen, whom I'm replacing for the balance of the year, had learned that morning that she's pregnant. Because of her problems in the past, he said, she's been ordered off her feet until she delivers. Not totally, but enough to preclude teaching. 

"It was pure chance I happened to call that day. And since it is only a half year, non-tenured instructorship, he didn't think it necessary to go the committee route."

"You called asking about vacancies anywhere. Does that mean there's no Mr. Everett?"

"Very good, Guy," she said with a smile. "No, not any more." Guy cocked his head in a silent question. "Married right out of college. He was a local college football hero, and got a job selling insurance and IRA's. I started on my doctorate right away. 

"A few weeks before our third anniversary, I came home from class early one day, and surprised him in bed with one of his customers. One similarly equipped in the groin." 

She shook her head, a puzzled expression on her face. "He couldn't understand why I was upset; after all, he said, he wasn't screwing another woman."

Guy laughed. "I'm sorry; it's not really funny, but it is laughable."

Phyll just nodded. "It's okay. It's over and dealt with. I wish all my problems were as easy to deal with." She put her coat on and picked up her bag and briefcase. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to burden you with my woes, but if you have any advice on how to bust loose my chairman..."

"You got time for a cup of coffee?"

"Won't Mrs Foster be upset if you're late for dinner?"

"There is no Mrs Foster in my family. My mother was a single mother who gave me my father's last name, and my wife died of ovarian cancer nearly seven years ago."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to stir up painful memories. Was she ill long?"

"Two months. It was fast, but not fast enough. There was a lot of pain, and doctors don't handle pain well. At least, they didn't then."

"Children, or anyone else to be home for?"

"No. Why?"

"Would you like to join me for dinner? I make a killer frittata. Add some salad and some decent bread and wine, and, voila, dinner."

"Best offer I've had all week. I'll meet you...damn! Where do you live? I probably won't be able to leave right away to follow you."

She wrote down her address and gave it to him. He grinned when he saw it. He had lived in the same complex when he first came to the city, he told her. "The Capitol wine shop, just a block down Oak Lane is one of the best in the city. I'll stop and get some wine. Suggestions?"

"Something semi-dry. A Zinfandel, either color, would be good. And maybe an inexpensive ice wine for dessert, if you can find one."

"Fine. See you at your place in, say, half, three-quarters of an hour?"

"Great. See you then," she replied, with a warm smile.



The couple were sitting facing each other, on opposite ends of the sofa, in the living room, sipping on the ice Reisling. The lights were on low. "So," she asked, "do you have any suggestions?"

"Tell me more about the problem. Do you think it's professional, or is there some personal problem?"

"Probably a bit of both. My research supports some of my chairman's public positions, but refutes a lot more. He knew about that from the beginning, and said it wouldn't be a problem.

"The personal part...The day after I caught my husband and his client together, I went to Harry, my chair, and told him I needed to take some time off. He asked why, and when I started to tell him, I broke down and began to cry. I was almost hysterical.

"He came around to hold me and as I calmed down, he started to kiss me. When I noticed his hands in my blouse and down the back of my slacks, I pushed him away. I had to fight him off and started to scream to get him to back away. I've heard it's not uncommon, especially for woman candidates, but... I haven't been alone with him since; nearly five years. He's refusing to budge until we talk one on one."

"What about charging him with...

"Sexual harassment? I thought about it. I consulted a lawyer, but since there were no witnesses, it becomes 'he said, she said.' He could claim I misinterpreted his actions because of my emotional state."

"What do the other members say?"

"They sympathize, but he's the chair and, no matter why, what he says, goes. I'm almost ready to chuck it and start over somewhere else."

"Is that a real option?"

"Remote, but..." The sound of breaking glass came from the bedroom. "What..."

Guy held his finger over his mouth, quieting her. "Most of these units have grills over the windows..." he whispered.

"Yes," she whispered back, "nobody can get in. What should..."

"Call 911 and report an attempt to break in." Guy saw a shadow run past the front window. A few seconds later the front door knob was tried. Guy steered Phyll to the kitchen to make her call. He saw a french rolling pin on the center island and grabbed it on his way back to the front door.

He heard the intruder trying to open the door and positioned himself behind it. Barely a second later, he heard the intruder throw himself against the door, and the casing crack. Slowly, the door opened

The first thing that became visible was the hunting knife. As soon as the burglar's wrist appeared, Guy smashed the rolling pin down on it, breaking the perp's wrist and thumb. Before the intruder could react, Guy thrust the rolling pin into his solar plexus, and then down on his skull when the intruder doubled over in pain.

It seemed he had no sooner hit the floor when a voice from the dark was ordering Guy to drop the rolling pin. He looked out the open door and saw a police patrol car in the driveway. The two officers were in the house in seconds, and finished subduing the burglar. As soon as they pulled him to his feet, Phyll gasped.

"OMiGod!" She gave a short snorting laugh. "Guy, meet my dissertation chairman, Dr Harry Simmons." 

She confronted the prisoner. "What the hell did you think you were going to do? You'd need more than that knife to get within an arms length of me, you shit!" she screamed, sounding nearly hysterical.

"Bitch!" he screamed back. "Don't think I'm done; I'll be back to finish this!"

"You heard him, Officers. Make sure you lose the keys to those handcuffs," Phyll said to the policemen. Guy put his arm around her shoulder and led her back into the living room as the police took her would-be attacker away. They had hardly pulled away when a forensics team showed up to document the damage he had caused.

As they went about their investigation, Guy said, "You can't stay here tonight. I can offer you a choice of guest rooms."

"Thank you. I'll just need to grab some clothes and a toothbrush."

While Phyll gathered her clothes, Guy called the super/agent for the complex. It was the same person he had known when he lived there on first coming to town. "Sal, This is Guy Foster; how are you...Good to hear that. Say hello to Maria for me. 

"Sal, I was visiting Phyllis Everett this evening and there was a bit of a ruckus. She needs a window repaired and her front door will probably need to be replaced...Yeah, someone broke in while we were here. The police have him in custody...You're kidding! Wait, you'd better tell her. She might think I have some ulterior motives." Phyll heard Sal's laugh over the phone as she took it from Guy.

"Mr Lorenzo, this is Phyllis Everett. Is there a problem?"

"Yes, I understand about insurance and a special order for the door. How long...What! Ten days–business days; so two weeks. Just where do you suggest I sleep? Will your insurance cover my motel bill...I didn't think so. Do you rebate the rent while my apartment is unavailable...At least there's that. How long...two months, as a credit. I see. Thank you, Mr Lorenzo. Yes, I'm sure you want to help." She hung up the phone and walked back to the living room.

She plopped down to sit on the sofa, her head in her hands. Guy sat beside her and put his arm around her shoulder, pulling her into his side. "Cheer up; it could be worse."

"Really? How?"

"You might not have a place to stay."

She looked at him and smiled briefly. "I can't impose on you like that, not for two weeks."

"You're not imposing; I offered. And you can stay two weeks or two months, however long it takes, or as long as you can stand it." He stood and pulled her to her feet. 

"Leave your car. We'll get it tomorrow when we pick up the rest of your clothes. There'll be a cop out front until they board up the door and window. You'll be able to get in through the back. You also better grab your garage door remote.

"You know, there is an upside to all of this. Your problem with your dissertation being blocked is solved," he said, grinning.



Guy grabbed Phyll's bag from the back seat of his roadster and led her to the side door of his four bedroom ranch style home. "You can sleep in either the football room or the hockey room. The hockey room is courtesy of my fourteen year-old niece who is a Black Hawks fan. The football room is by my sixteen year-old nephew, who is a fan of the Dallas Cowboys," he said, opening the door, "Cheerleaders." Phyll laughed, taking in the flesh filled posters covering the walls. 

"It's good to know some things don't change." she said with a smile.

Guy smiled back. "The Black Hawk room is right here; bathroom's across the hall."

"Mmm, good. Just being near that man makes me want a shower."

"Before you yield to that temptation, let me show you something." he led her to his room, furnished with a king sized bed and decorated in dark Danish Modern decor, but still exuding a welcoming atmosphere. He led her to his bathroom. 

Inside, he showed her his surround shower with jets from floor to ceiling in each corner of the hexagonal enclosure, plus an overhead, eight inch diameter super soaker shower head. "Guaranteed to get you clean and feeling refreshed," he said, turning on the water. In a matter of seconds, the room was filled with steam.

"Wow! I bet your girl friends really enjoy that."

"Probably, if there had been any."

"Please don't tell me you're..."

He grinned. "No, I'm not gay. I'm just not in the habit of bringing casual dates here. I haven't been seriously involved with anyone since...Family and professional friends who have used it have given it rave reviews. I can hardly get Kelly, my niece, out of it."

"I feel honored, and I will accept your very kind invitation." She saw something unexpected, based on her brief experience with the dynamic University official, a shy smile. Suddenly flustered, she asked, "What?"


Worth Waiting For



For Shelley

Kimberley could feel the warmth of the late afternoon sunshine seep through the windows and flow through the soft cotton of her pale yellow summer dress. Warm weather like this wasn't unusual for late May, but it had come unexpectedly and she had had to dig deep in her closet to find something light enough to be comfortable. She looked south into the courtyard of the elementary school, her school, and her home away from home. The sunflowers that her kindergartners had planted several weeks ago were sprouting up nicely, but her thoughts were far from the flowers and her students.

All she could think of was the man she would be meeting in a few minutes, the father of one of her students, the man whose dark eyes and gentle hands kept her trembling with anticipation. But it was a sad anticipation since he was older with growing children and a house, and a full time job, and would never have time for her. She brushed her long auburn hair back from her face and wished she had taken the time to put it up since it was so hot this day. Her hand drifted down her soft warm cheek and neck to her chest, pausing on her breast that felt warm and full and heavy. Her nipple grew taut and pressed against her palm through the thin lace of her bra and the soft cotton of her dress. Her fingertips flirted with the open neckline, teasing the soft pale flesh beneath. Although she had undone the top button earlier because of the heat, the cut of the dress was modest enough for her to appear prim and proper on the outside when on the inside she was aflame with desire. 

Her fingertips lingered in the warm valley between her breasts as she thought of this man. From the first time she had seen him in the fall through months that followed she had grown attached to him, hardly able to wait until she could see him the next time. It had been so long since she had felt this way about anyone, and of course with her luck it would have to be a nearly impossible situation. But he would soon be here in her neat tidy room with the brightly decorated bulletin boards, and the miniature tables and chairs, and the freshly cleaned chalkboard. She was determined to make the most of this last chance, not like the other times when he had been close enough to her that she could feel his breath and sense his heartbeat and her mind had grown dumb and her lips had fallen mute. She closed her bright green eyes for a moment and was quickly lost in a mystical reverie.

It was back in the early fall, just after the start of the school year. Kimberley had gotten her students in and seated at their tables and was just easing into the reading lesson when there was a knock at the door. She wasn't sure whom to expect since it was too early for attendance sheets. When she opened the door, standing outside was a tall man dressed in an expensive golf shirt and crisp khaki slacks. His head was bowed, almost like one of her students who had been caught doing something bad. But when he raised his head, his dark hair and dark eyes startled her. He had the most interesting face, nice-looking but not in a pretty boy fashion, more Harrison Ford than Tom Cruise.

"I'm sorry we're so late," he said, his deep voice dripping with apology. "But we had a little trouble over breakfast this morning."

Standing beside him was little Martin Rousseau, one of her students, whom she hadn't even noticed was missing.

"Why that's okay," she replied, waving her hand to invite Martin inside. "You must be Martin's father."

"Guilty as charged," he replied with a most disarming smile that sent a warm shiver down her spine. "And you must be Miss Maguire." He held out his hand, perhaps out of habit. As she placed her hand in his, he squeezed it ever so gently. "I'm Paul Rousseau. Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too," she said unable to let go of his hand or to let her eyes drift away from the warm look in his. "Very nice to meet you."

Martin scampered in to hang up his backpack and join his friends as Kimberley lingered at the doorway shaking hands with the most striking man she had met in ages.

"Well, I, uh," he said, with the most incredible smile as he tried to retrieve his hand. "I had better be going."

"Oh, yes," she replied, finally letting her hand slip away. "Well, have a very nice day!"

She couldn't take her eyes from him as he nodded, turned and started down the hall. Tall and broad shouldered with a narrow waist and hips and the cutest buns she had ever seen wiggle by in a pair of khakis. She took a deep breath and felt her heart hammering away. Jesus Christ! Have a nice day? God, is that all you can say Kimberley Ann, she said to herself. Have a nice fucking day? A loud crash from the classroom brought her back to reality just as he disappeared through the double doors. Although she threw herself back into the classroom to get things back on track, she found herself pausing several times during the day, remembering the dark hair with the errant lock that curled over his forehead, the deep dark eyes that kept shining her way, the soft warm handshake, the very thought of which sent another round of shivers through her body.

Later in the fall came their first real face-to-face meeting when he was scheduled for a parent teacher conference. She remembered being so excited when the handwritten note arrived via Martin requesting a late appointment. The strong definitive handwriting would have to be his. She made sure to give him his preference even if it meant asking three other parents to shift their times.

"Hello," came the voice and a little knock on the door.

Relax, Kimberley Ann, she repeated to herself again and again. Be cool, be smooth, and remember that you're the one in charge. She looked up toward the door and saw him leaning in, a sweet little boy smile on his face. He shook the rain off the collar of his overcoat and stepped inside. He was wearing a dark suit with a finely tailored blue shirt and a bright tastefully patterned tie.

"Mr. Rousseau, you're here!" she said.

"Yeah, I'm not late am I?"

"No, not really. Come in and have a seat."

He looked awkward sitting in the chair beside her desk since it was smaller than the typical office chair.

"Well, first of all, let me say what a pleasure it is to have you in my class everyday," she began.

"Beg your pardon?" he said with a confused look on his face.

"Oh, Martin. To have Martin in my classroom every day. I'm sorry. You two bear a strong resemblance."

"Chip off the old block they say," he replied with that disarming smile that Kimberley was finding a definite distraction.

"Anyway, I've prepared a chart for you that shows Martin's progress and how he has been doing lately."

She watched as he took the chart and looked it over intently, his dark eyes drinking up every detail.

"He does really well with numbers and science topics. He does need some extra work in English and handwriting. He seems to be lagging behind some of the others in those subjects."

"Is there anything I can do?" Paul asked, his eyes gazing into hers for the answer.

"Oh, yes there is so much that you can do," Kimberley answered slowly, distracted by the look in his eyes. "For Martin. Yes, for Martin. He's a very charming boy and a joy to have in class. He loves to laugh and play and is very popular with his classmates."

She sat looking at the father who looked back to the progress chart. She began to have strange thoughts about this man, strange, wonderful thoughts. She felt the need to say something, but paused before she told him what she was actually thinking, about how she wanted to throw herself across the desk and into his arms. Instead she tried to concentrate on young Martin.

"I would suggest that you spend some extra time reading to him, perhaps practicing his writing. Maybe try to get him to write complete words instead of just the same letter over and over. Simple words, words that he knows and uses frequently so that he begins to link the letters with how they form words."

He broke into another great smile.

"Finding extra time is hard to do, Miss Maguire," he said. "You're probably not aware of our situation. As a single parent it's hard to keep everything together. With his older sister and a business to run there isn't a lot of spare time to spend."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ... ," she said feeling dumb, but he raised a hand up and interrupted.

"But I'm committed to doing whatever needs to be done. You don't need to apologize, Miss Maguire. I've kind of thought that Marty needed some extra attention in his studies. His sister tries to help, but I've suspected that there's more I could do. I couldn't manage preschool for him so this has been a big step for him. I'll work closer with him."

Kimberley didn't know what to say in return. There was something about him that was driving her crazy. Her body was quivering with every syllable from his deep voice. And when he smiled, she thought her heart would melt. Relax, Kimberley, she thought. This is your turf. You're the one in charge.

"I have a nice little booklet that I can send home with you if you'd like," she said. When he nodded, she got up and stepped over to her filing cabinet. She was quite aware of his eyes following her movements. As she bent over slightly to pull the middle drawer open, she remembered that her dress had a little slit up the back and figured that she was probably giving him a nice glimpse of her legs. So she took a few extra moments looking for the booklet that was right in front of her. But then with my luck he'll be a boob man, she thought, and when she pulled out the booklet and turned around, she realized that he wasn't even looking in her direction.

"Here you go," she said handing him the parent's guide. "I think you'll find some nice suggestions for things that you can try at home."

"Thank you," he said taking the book and flipping thorough the pages. "This will help a lot. Thanks."

She paused standing beside him, her pulse racing. She wanted to say something to him. She wanted to confess how she had picked out this dress especially because her friends had all told her how terrific she looked in it and because she knew that he would be coming to see her today. She wanted to tell him how she felt when he looked her way. There were other things that she wanted to say to him, things that she had never told anyone before. But she didn't. She could only stand beside him and smile and wait for a sign from him. Hell, she would have let him take her right there, right then if he had tried, the thought of which produced a dampness between her legs.

"Well then," he said. "Is there anything else?"

"No, nothing special. Nothing else really."

He stood up beside her, very close to her, and took her hand in his. Her hand felt so small inside his.

"Thank you for coming, Mr. Rousseau. If you ever need to contact me, my phone number and email are in the school directory we sent home last week."

"I'll be sure to do that," he replied.

With a nod and another of his stunning smiles, he turned and walked away. She followed in his wake to the door and could smell the scent of his cologne. Pierre Cardin, maybe? Kimberley Ann, what are you doing, she asked herself. All right, he is nice-looking, but you've met good-looking men before and they never had this effect. She could feel her nipples stiffen up and rub against the cups of her bra and the dampness between her legs could not be denied. She brought a hand up to the side of her face and rubbed her temple. He's got to be ten or fifteen years older with children and a mortgage and a business and he couldn't possibly be interested in her. She took a deep breath and went back to her desk, slipped her folder of notes and some papers into her briefcase, and snapped it shut. Forget him Kimberley Ann, she thought. You'll never have a man like that.

Then came a couple of brief brushes with Mr. Rousseau in the weeks following. Once he had to pick up Martin early for a doctor's appointment and she decided to walk him down to the office while her teaching assistant finished the lesson. Paul had stepped out of the office to meet them in the hall when he saw them coming.

"Ready to go champ?" he asked Martin, rubbing his boy on the head.

While Martin nodded, Kimberley helped slip on his backpack.

"All set and ready to go," she said proudly.

"Thanks," Paul replied. 

The curly lock of hair had fallen onto his forehead and she wanted to reach up and brush it away for him, but he reached up to do it himself and she bit her lip. What was it about this man that makes my brain turn to mush, she asked herself. Damn! She could only send them off with a weak little wave. I am so stupid, she thought to herself, getting all worked up over this attractive man who hardly knows I exist. She quickly walked back to her class trying to put it all out of her mind.

A week or so later she had gotten to school a bit later than usual. The kids were lining up at the outside door waiting for the bell to ring. Small groups of parents were gathered about chatting. Standing by the door talking animatedly with Allison Chambers' mother was Mr. Rousseau. Out of the corner of her eye as she breezed past, she could see him look her way and smile with a polite little nod.

"Good morning," he called out to her.

"Morning," she replied.

Since she was so late, she wanted to get inside quickly, but she paused for a moment. He kept smiling at her and nodded again in her direction. What to say, she asked herself. Nice day isn't it? Have a nice day? As her mind drew a blank, his smile disappeared, but the look remained. She finally turned away and hustled inside. Maybe he does know who I am, she thought to herself. The rest of the day she felt so distracted each time she remembered the look in his dark eyes and the tingle that swept through her body.

On the last Friday night before the Christmas holiday break, the PTA sponsored a carnival in the gymnasium. Parents and teachers alike signed up to run the various games and booths for the entertainment of the children and to help raise money for some special projects later in the year. Her friend Linda who taught second grade had talked her into volunteering.

"What else are you going to do that night?" Linda had said.

Yeah, right. What else, she had thought. A big bowl of popcorn and the latest DVD release was losing its charm she had to admit. So the two of them had signed up for the miniature tabletop bowling game. After the school day was over, she changed into a pair of jeans and a favorite sweater and helped with setting up and decorating the gym. Afterwards, she spent a few extra minutes in the bathroom putting up her hair to keep it out of her face and touching up her makeup.

The carnival started at six o'clock and it seemed like every one showed up at the same time. It was a wild and fun-filled madhouse as the kids and parents bought tickets and lined up to play the games. She and Linda were among the busiest, taking turns collecting tickets, setting pins, and handing out tokens to the winners. Kevin the gym teacher was next to them running a shooting gallery game and was hardly able to keep up.

"What's the matter, Kev? Getting old?" Linda chided.

"My helper hasn't shown up yet," Kevin replied "I hope he gets here soon."

After another flurry of contestants, she looked over to see Paul hustle up and join Kevin next door.

"Sorry, man," he told Kevin apologetically.

Kevin wasted no time putting him to work. At first, Kimberley was able to concentrate on running her game, but soon found herself sneaking little glances at her neighbor. He had the most wonderful laugh and was great at helping the kids get a better score. At one point little Martin and his big sister, a tall slim dark-haired girl, came up and asked their Dad for some more money for a soda and hot dog. She loved the way he acted around them, so devoted and protective.

"Cute kids," she shouted over to him.

"Thanks," he answered.

During another rush, she was busy resetting the bowling game and felt her hair slip out of the pins holding it up. She brushed it away from her cheek, but it fell back. After getting the game ready, she turned to the side, pulled the bobby pin from her hair and tossed her head back. She raised both arms up and using one hand to hold the offending lock in place, she pinned her hair back securely. She then realized that she was facing Paul directly, her arms up pulling her breasts up and out against her sweater. Just the look in his eyes was enough to tickle her nipples to taut attention. He smiled awkwardly and looked back to his own game, but there was no mistaking his admiring glances.

Later, there was an awkward moment when she bent over to reach under the table for some more tokens. She felt something brush up against the left cheek of her butt and realized that it was his leg. She looked over and up to catch him stealing a peak at her behind. Thank God she was wearing her favorite old pair of Guess jeans that fit her better than any others she had ever owned.

"Nice butt," he commented as he glanced down with a shy smile before looking away.

She felt that warm shiver pass through her again, which made it harder to concentrate on setting the pins or collecting tickets. A couple kids complained when she miscounted their tickets. Jesus, Kimberley Ann, can't you count to two, she asked herself. 

Around seven thirty, the crowd began to thin out and the customers for their games dwindled down to an occasional visitor using up the last of their tickets. She caught Paul sneaking a look at her.

"What a crazy time!" she called out to him.

"Yeah. This is a lot of fun," he replied.

"I didn't know you were signed up for this," she remarked. "I don't remember seeing you at the meeting."

"I was a last minute replacement, I guess."

There was more idle chitchat as she struggled to find something to say that would interest him yet sound innocent to Linda and Kevin. She complimented him on the progress that Martin was making with his reading and writing. He turned it around into a compliment on her teaching abilities. She asked about their plans for the Christmas break he didn't really give an answer and seemed more interested in what she would be doing. He smiled when she told him she would visit her parents home.

"What? No ski trip to Gstaad?" he cracked.

"Not this year, although I would like to visit sometime."

"It's beautiful this time of year."

A handsome man, a devoted father, and a world traveler to boot! What wasn't there to love about this man, she asked herself. But then the L-word caught her. Oh, Sweet Jesus, Kimberley Ann, she thought.

"You'll get there sometime," he remarked.

Kimberley smiled and noticed that his kids were edging closer with their booty of cheap little toys in hand. The voice of the principal announced over the PA the winners of the door prizes and thanked everyone for their attendance and support. The teachers and parents set about packing up the games for another year. As she noticed Martin and his sister waiting impatiently for their dad, she gave Paul a little wave.

"I guess you'd better get going."

"Yeah, I guess so," he said with a sad look on his face. "Are you hanging around?"

"Some of the gang are going over to Poole's Tavern for a beer," she replied.

"Sounds nice, but," he said with a small sweep of his hand toward his kids.

"Well I wasn't planning on going anyway. I'm not one for smoky, noisy bars. I think I'll just head home."

"Same here," Paul said as he started to move toward the door

Kimberley began pulling together her purse and briefcase and backpack stuffed with her change of clothes.

"Well, can I walk you out then?" he asked, pausing for a moment.





Worth Waiting For



The sun beat down on her like an interrogation spotlight. August in St. Louis is like standing at the gates of hell, Anna thought to herself, wondering again if she should consider moving somewhere with a more temperate climate. But her family was here, and her friends, and her job... The thought of starting over again somewhere else, while tempting, just didn't seem worth it right now. So she kept walking, cursing the cars lined up at all the meters around the courthouse. Jury duty in the city sucked. There was no other way to put it. While they nicely paid for parking, it was in a garage ten blocks from the courthouse, and unless you were called in spring or late fall, when the weather was cool, the trek was miserable. 

The last time she had jury duty had been December, 18 months ago. Fortunately, Anna hadn't been selected to serve on a trial – it had been a close call, but she managed to avoid it, and only waste the two days of jury selection. She'd heard that trial had lasted the full week. But all she wanted to do right now was get through today and tomorrow. Thursday and Friday. Then it would be Saturday, and the Charity Gala. While not normally her cup of tea, her boss had asked her if she would like to go – the firm had purchased a table, and now they needed bodies to fill it. It wasn't like she had anything else going on, after all. Her divorce was final (finally!) and she was settled into her new house. The unpacking was finished, she'd painted the dining room, and it was too damn hot to start a garden. So she had bought a dress she'd found on a clearance rack at Famous Barr and made an appointment to have her hair and nails done Saturday afternoon.

***

As Anna sat in the jury room, she leafed through a magazine while studying the other prospective jurors who gathered. This was the interesting part of jury duty, imagining what kinds of lives they had put on hold to come here today. She studied the handsome black man, his hair just beginning to grey at his temples, working feverishly at his laptop in between answering his cell phone and talking animatedly. She guessed he was in upper management at a mid-size company, hoping to close a deal before the end of the week. The unkempt older woman in mismatched sweats and ratty sneakers appeared unemployed, possibly on disability, and the lines in her face suggested she had been unhappy for a long time. Two rows behind her sat a young woman in her early twenties, her long blonde hair perfectly smooth, watching with disdain as the grungy man next to her calmly spit shells from sunflower seeds into a paper cup.

She wondered if this young woman had left a young man in bed, tangled in the sheets, the window A/C unit humming. Was she wild in bed? Demanding? Adventurous? Or did she do her best to please him, sacrificing her own pleasure to keep him around? These were the other kinds of things Anna wondered about some people she observed. 

Take, for example, the young black man seated three rows in front of her and slightly to the right. Anna had a good view of his profile, and the way he slouched in his seat suggested he was very comfortable with his body. He didn't care what others thought of him. His hand tapped out the beat pumping into his headphones, and he had good rhythm, which brought to mind other interesting uses for rhythm. He wore a black T-shirt that stretched invitingly across his broad shoulders, and she could tell from the slight bulges that he worked out with some regularity. His arms were nicely defined, and she could imagine him supporting himself on his arms above her naked and supine body, showing her the rhythm in his hips.

By late morning, she was horny and tired of fantasizing. She needed a little relief, but privacy was a bit of an issue. And what if she were in the throes of orgasm when her number was called? On the other hand, she'd be much better able to concentrate once she got the horny out of her system. It had been so long since she'd had a man she couldn't even admit the length of time to herself. Sure, she always had Bob, the battery operated boyfriend, but there were times he was a really poor substitute for a flesh and blood cock pumping in and out of her, and Bob didn't coat her breasts with cum and tell her to suck him clean when he was done. Bob didn't tell her to sit on him and fuck herself while he watched football. No, that was what her ex did, and he was gone now.

So what was a horny girl to do?

Anna's thoughts were interrupted by the call of juror numbers, and she listened, wondering if perhaps she should yell BINGO if her number was called. 104, 257, 319, 390, 393... Yep, that was her, Juror number 393. She gathered up her things and followed the other chosen jurors to the assembly area, her solo tryst put on hold for the time being.

***

Jury questioning lasted the better part of the afternoon, and again she narrowly escaped being selected. Had they eliminated one more prospective juror, Anna would have been next in line, and it turned out to be a rather violent rape case she remembered hearing about several years ago. Amazing how long it took sometimes for these things to come to trial. In all honesty, however, she wasn't sure she could have been an impartial juror in this instance, so it was probably best she hadn't been chosen.

But at least the lawyer for the prosecution was easy on the eyes. He wasn't tall, but he carried himself like he was the most important person in the room. He introduced himself as Matthew Golden, which seemed ironic, given that his hair was jet black and his skin had a somewhat olive tone. But Matthew Golden was a looker, and she was pretty sure he could captivate a jury with that wide smile and eyes that whispered "trust me." His wedding ring, however, was not lost on her, and she had spent the rest of the afternoon fantasizing about what he might be like in bed, and what his wife looked like, and whether or not he had ever brought her up here after hours to fuck her on the witness stand.

By the time the rest of the panel was dismissed, it was nearing five o'clock, and downtown traffic was already a nightmare. Anna knew of a little bar a few blocks away called The Bench, and it was a regular hangout for lawyers after court ended for the day. A nice cold one was definitely called for, because she wasn't willing to sit in traffic in the sweltering heat. And it wasn't like she had anyone to go home to anyway. Maybe she'd find a nice guy who'd be willing to buy her a drink, tell her a few war stories, make her forget temporarily that she had sworn off men and relationships...

***

Three beers and four lawyers later, Anna had had enough of The Bench. The few lawyers who looked interesting were not interested in talking to a single woman alone at the bar. The ones who did approach her were sleazy at best. One guy was actually an ambulance chaser, and freely admitted it. She closed her tab and headed for the door, just as Matthew Golden was walking in. Although it was tempting, she resisted the impulse to turn around and offer to buy him a drink. Anna just wasn't quite ready to pursue a married man, regardless of how sexy he might appear. Married men brought all sorts of complications to bed, and she just wasn't willing to open up that can of worms just yet. Over the course of her life, she had only met a handful of me she'd be willing - and eager - to bed, wedding ring be damned. Tonight, the only person she wanted to bed was herself.

***

By Saturday evening, the heat had reached a feverish peak. Thunderheads were building up in the west, and the air was thick with moisture. Severe storms were expected by morning. Anna dressed slowly, the air conditioning on full blast. She was thankful the stylist had put her hair up, allowing tendrils to escape and curl in the humidity.

First came silky red panties, a garter belt, and matching strapless bra, followed by sheer thigh-high stockings. Next, she slithered into a fitted red dress that skimmed her hips and ended just above her knees, and slipped the spaghetti straps over her bare shoulders. A pair of red heels completed the look. She kept her jewelry simple: a thin gold chain around her neck and a pair of ruby earrings. Simple, but elegant. Trite, but right. If Anna had to fill space at the table, she wanted to fill it with class.

***

The Gala was in the Starlight room of a historic hotel in midtown, named for the glass ceiling that revealed a velvet sky studded with stars on a clear night. Tonight was one of those clear, hot nights, with a warm breeze that caressed the nape of her neck with its ghostly fingers.

When she walked into the Starlight room, heads turned. She was a beautiful woman, and she was alone. Wives immediately became uneasy, perhaps subconsciously signaled by the crimson of her dress. Red, the color of passion...danger...fire...harlots... She was a walking time bomb, and she reveled in the power it gave her. It didn't matter if she wasn't planning to use this power for anything. Just knowing the potential was enough.

Between appetizers and dinner was dancing, and she wasn't lacking partners. Her head was spinning from the champagne and lack of substantial food and twirling around the floor with one man after the next. When the announcement finally came that dinner was served, she was escorted to her table by a tall, broad-shouldered man who looked vaguely familiar.

"It's been a pleasure, Anna," he winked at her as he pulled out her chair. 

"Thank you, um..." 

"Will." His smile lit a fire in her belly, and she couldn't help but smile back. There was something about him...

"Will," she repeated.

"Save the last dance for me, Anna." And with that, he was gone.

During dinner, the talk around her turned to business, but she tuned it out and wondered why this Will looked so familiar. He reminded her of someone she had known long ago, but she was certain it was only a coincidence. But how had he known her name?

As soon as dessert was finished, she excused herself and headed to the ladies room. A fresh coat of lipstick and a little powder on her nose, and she'd be ready to dance the rest of the night away. As she carefully outlined her lips, two women in stalls began discussing men they'd met. She ignored them until she heard one say "Spencer Ramsey."

"I know, can you believe he's here?"

"Sure, I mean, he dumped Lily Hampstead last Tuesday, and you know he doesn't waste any time."

"But don't you think it's a little crass of him to show up here, of all places?"

"Why? Because the last time he was here, Maureen caught him in the cloakroom with someone from the hotel staff?"

Anna caught her breath. It couldn't be. But how many Spencer Ramseys could there be in St. Louis? She hadn't seen him in, gosh, fifteen years? She quickly dropped her lipstick back in her purse and slipped out of the bathroom.

Anna ducked onto a balcony off the hallway to get a breath of fresh air before heading back to the Starlight Room. She could hear the music starting back up, but the view of the city was stunning, and she needed a little time to think this all through. Spencer Ramsey... Here... Tonight... After all this time. 

She braced her hands on the railing, closed her eyes and was immediately transported back in time, to June, just weeks after her high school graduation, on a night that was still somewhat cool. Nothing like tonight. She had worn jeans and a white Tshirt, and in her haste to sneak out of the house, she had slipped her feet into her Keds without socks. Anna had had a crush on Spencer for most of high school, and wanted desperately to make him like her. Anna had been a virgin then, but she would have gladly sacrificed her virtue for Spencer's attention. 

She already knew she was a bad girl at heart, and wanted desperately to unleash that bad girl in Spencer's arms. In person, he wanted nothing to do with her, but they had many long, late night phone calls in which he was a completely different person. It was with him Anna had delved into phone sex, and prided herself in being able to get him off in five minutes flat if she put her mind to it. Things were complicated, though; he had been dating a girl from another school, who was very jealous and possessive. Finally, during a midnight conversation, Anna became angry and called him all sorts of names, some of which she meant and others that she didn't, and he hung up on her. For weeks, she was miserable, missing him but not sure how to take back what she had said. And it didn't help matters any that he refused to spend any time with her in person.

But Anna had called him anyway, that June night, unsure whether or not he would even speak to her. She had been at a friend's house, and they had split a bottle of white Zin, so she was feeling a little bit brave and very horny. To her surprise, Spencer was not only home, but told her he wanted to come see her. Twenty minutes later, he coasted his beat up Chevy Nova into her driveway, the headlights off so as not to alert her parents. 

They walked silently around the side of the house, into the shadow of a large oak tree, and he hugged her, wrapping his warm arms around her body, holding her the way she had always imagined he would. She breathed in the smell of him, determined to remember that moment with all of her senses. He smelled like Eternity cologne and Tide laundry detergent. Finally, he kissed her, caressing her hair and back as he pulled her to him. 

She had never been kissed like that before, and she was surprised by the wetness that suddenly damped her panties. She was pure heat, and felt as though she might melt in his arms. She pulled away from him, and he caught her hand. He sucked gently on her fingertips before letting it go. "Some things are worth waiting for, Anna," he whispered.

They spent an hour sitting on the hill that overlooked her house, talking and flirting, before she reluctantly told him she needed to get back inside before her parents discovered she was gone. He asked her to sit in his car with him, so she did, and it was there that she felt a penis for the first time. Although she had nothing to compare it to, it seemed huge - she could barely meet her fingers around the shaft, and it was so hard, like a firm, warm cucumber, covered in baby-soft skin. She grew even bolder, knowing that she was the cause of his arousal, and kissed him, stroking his cock as her mouth caressed his.

Spencer followed her into the garage and tried to convince her to sneak him into her bedroom. He wanted to make love to her, he said, and kissed her again, sliding his hand inside the front her jeans. Before she had time to think, he had slipped a finger inside of her, and she inhaled sharply. He laughed against her lips, and whispered "You really are a virgin, aren't you..." Anna kissed him again, thrusting her pelvis to meet his finger, wanting him - needing him - to finish what he started.

He pulled away from her then, and slipped out the door. Two weeks later, she heard that his on-again off-again girlfriend was pregnant, and he was moving in with her at her parent's house. She never saw him again.

At the end of summer, she left for college, and lost her virginity three weeks later, to a boy she had dated off and on that summer. The entire time, she imagined she was with Spencer. He had been the one she had measured all others by, and a fire still burned for him, deep in her belly.

The door opened behind her, and she was aware that she was no longer alone on the balcony. She felt hands on her waist, and a voice whispered, "So this is where you've been hiding." His breath was warm on her neck, and the combination of his soft voice in her ear and his Eternity cologne was the final confirmation she needed. Spencer William Ramsey.

Anna leaned back into him as he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her neck just behind her earlobe. "It's been a long time, Anna. Too long," he whispered, nibbling on her ear as his hands reached up to cup her breasts. "I believe we have some unfinished business, you and I."

She closed her eyes and reveled in the feel of his arms around her after all this time. So much had changed in fifteen years, but some things were still the same. While he was not the same hunky 21 year old who had ignited the lust in her loins that June night, he had grown into a sexy 36 year old man who could still make her melt with a touch. She cupped her hands over his and didn't feel a wedding ring. Well, Anna thought, at least that's promising, but that answered only one of nearly twenty years' worth of questions.

His lips traced a path down the curve of her neck and across her shoulder, pushing the strap of her dress down as he kissed his way across her skin. Anna couldn't take it any longer. She had to kiss him. She turned to face him, her palms flat against his broad chest, eyes locked with his, forcing herself to breathe. Her lips parted, and she leaned in as he lowered his head to meet hers. Their breath mingled, a heartbeat away from touching lips, his hands lightly resting on the curve of her hips pulling her to him. Their lips met, parted, and reunited again in a gentle, slow, open-mouth kiss that left her breathless and lightheaded.

His hands were warm on her hips, and he pulled her tighter against him, pelvis to pelvis. Her hips swiveled against his in a rhythm as old as time as his mouth plundered hers. Time had ceased to exist. All she could think about was his mouth on hers and the feel of his erection pressing against her belly. Her hands slid down between them, and she began to stroke him through his pants, wanting to return some of the pleasure he was giving her. He groaned and pulled back, putting some distance between them.

"Anna, we can't. Not here. Not like this. Some things are worth waiting for." His final words re-ignited the burning lust she had felt that hot June night, and she felt like a teenager again, nervous but brave, with an inexperience matched by eagerness and desire.

She moved toward him and kissed him again, wrapping her arms around his neck. When they finally came up for air, she whispered, "I only live a few blocks from here. Perhaps you'd like to continue this discussion somewhere a little more...private?" Her voice was sultry and dripping with innuendo.

He kissed her again, hard this time, insistent, drawing the heat up through her body and leaving her lips feeling swollen and bruised, before taking her hand and pulling her back inside the hotel. "I'll drive; just tell me where to go."

They scurried down the stairs, trying to avoid any other party-goers on their way out, stealing kisses between floors. At one point, she seriously considered sitting him down on the top step and straddling him, she was so hot for him. Some things are worth waiting for, he reminded her, as though she had spoken out loud, before kissing her again, pushing her up against the wall, his thigh between her legs and pressing into her sweet spot. She writhed against him, anxious to feel him inside her. Just when she thought she might explode, he pulled away and grabbed her hand, continuing to lead her down the stairs.

Anna took little notice of his SUV on the short drive to her house, other than the mental note that the back might be big enough for a quickie, should the need arise. The only words she spoke were where to turn and where to park. She was focusing all her energy on not attacking him while he drove. The last thing she needed was for them to be pulled over for reckless driving and have the officer turn out to be her ex.

Inside, she didn't bother even turning on the lights. She had hardly shut and locked the door when he was on her, pushing her up against the door, his hands massaging her breasts while his mouth molested hers.

Before she knew what was happening, he had slid the dress down off her shoulders, exposing her satin-bound breasts. He tongued her nipples through the red bra, darkening the fabric, as his hands slid up underneath her dress and quickly removed her panties, tossing them behind him into the dark hallway. Anna leaned against the door, her knees weak with desire, as his tongue found her source of pleasure. She spread her legs to allow him full access, thankful for the door holding her up as her pelvis took on a mind of its own, begging him to give her release. Her hands found his hair and she caressed his head while he made love to her with his tongue. The first tremors were starting, and a moan escaped her lips, which turned into a cry of despair as he pulled away from her.




Worth Waiting For



"Some things are worth waiting for, Anna," he whispered, before kissing her again. She could taste herself on his lips, a sweet saltiness that heightened her desire even more. 

Spencer backed away from her and watched as she slowly slid her dress off her body, kicking the puddle of red satin aside. Her eyes locked with his, she unhooked her bra and let it fall to the floor. She stood there before him clad only in her red garter belt, thigh high stockings, and red heels, her hair still piled on top of her head. Carefully she removed the pins which held her hair in place, and it cascaded around her shoulders in a red waterfall of softness.

He couldn't wait any longer. In seconds he was on her again, kissing her hard, her hair wrapped in his hands as he held her captive to his kisses. He wrapped his arms around her hips and hoisted her up. She coiled her legs around his waist as he thrust up into her, the fabric of his pants all that separated his hard cock from her soft wetness. He was teasing her, and she wasn't sure how much more she could take. She couldn't remember ever feeling this hot, this turned on, in her life. 

"Spencer, please, now..." Anna moaned as he rubbed his cock against her slit. "I beg you, please..."

With one swift motion, he freed his cock from his pants and impaled her on it, plunging to the hilt in one swift stroke, like an arrow to the bull's eye. Anna cried out as he stretched her and filled her, partly from the shock and partly from sheer relief at finally having the void filled so completely. She wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his neck as he raised and lowered her on his cock, using the door for leverage. The tingling that heralded her climax began, and she bit his shoulder, urging him on. He thrust harder, each thrust deeper than the one before, touching places inside her she didn't know existed. Her cunt tightened around him as he swelled with his own impending orgasm. Her head dropped back against the door and he kissed her again as she whimpered from the pleasure that overwhelmed her.

"I'm gonna cum," he warned her, "and I want you to cum with me." Her only response was a high-pitched moan and she thrust against him harder, swiveling her hips to maintain maximum G-spot contact as he plunged in and out. "On the count of three... One... Two... Th-" And she exploded in orgasm, her senses overloaded and centered on the cock pistoning into her and coating her insides with hot jets of sperm as she contracted around him.

His thrusting slowed and stopped, and they slid down the door together, making their way to the living room where he pulled her down on top of him on the couch, kissing her and caressing her as their heartbeats slowed and their breathing calmed. Finally, her head resting in the curve of his shoulder one of his hands on her ass and the other playing with her hair, she was able to speak. "Yes, some things are worth waiting for," she whispered. The rest of her questions would just have to wait.



Worth Waiting For



The sun had set on her drive over, and so she rolled up the driveway in the urban twilight that enveloped cities and downs everywhere when the street lamps, porch lights, and other modern necessities came to life. Her own car had lights that did it on their own, so she had not even really noticed it, until she got out.

She had been to the house before, but normally just parked on the street. But Casey had told her to just roll down the driveway, and pull around behind the garage that was a separate structure from the actual house. Apparently Ryan's' room was now his mothers office.

There was a small door at the back of the garage, and she had been up there once, sophomore year. She had been dating Brad at the time, and Ryan had offered the spot for a secluded make out session. Now she ascended them slowly, not really sure what awaited her at the top.

For one, she noted, he had gotten some new furniture. A couch took up the center of the room, with a table along one wall, along with two chairs. His old desk sat opposite on the other wall. A small entertainment center held his TV, and assorted electronic gadgets that went with it. She saw that the door to the bathroom was closed, but the one to what was probably now his bedroom was open. The stove in the corner was on, with two pots bubbling. He had always been natural cook, and apparently that held.

Walking into the room, she dropped onto the couch, admiring the form of the woman on screen. She sucked a mean dick. Tilting her head to the side, she tried to imitate some of the movements, while listening to him wash his hands. Did that girl dislocate her jaw, or how did she do that?

"What are you doing here?" True to form, Ryan was without a shirt, which often seemed to be his natural state, no matter where he was. His faded jeans hung low on hips that seemed oddly low on his body, and she noticed that his six pack had gone from 100% shred to taking on a more human form. He still looked damn good, long brown hair in a pony tail, pierced nipple, large hands and all. 

"Well, I wanted to come by and see how things were now that you decided you were done." Standing, she walked over and gave him a hug, which he returned half heartedly.

"Why would you do that? Your boy toy does not approve, I am sure." Pushing her aside gently, he walked over to the stove, and checked his dinner. Indicating it with his head, she considered, and then accepted the invitation without saying a word. They had been friends long enough for that.

"I can do things without him, you know that."

"Not here lately, you can't." He liked to needle her, and it showed in the glint in his eyes.

"Anyways, can you tell me why you decided to drop out of school a cool four months short of graduation?"

"I didn't fell like putting up with it anymore." He shrugged, and tossed some kind of spice into one of the pots. "I'm sure you heard what happened."

"Several versions. One of them has you sleeping with you Mrs. Bachter."

"Does that one include Mr. Ayers falling down the stairs after he tried to beat me up?"

"No, that particular incident is much more commonly found in the one that involves you selling X in the art bathroom."

He laughed, letting her draw her own conclusions as to what had actually happened. "So I guess that Casey told you what happened over here, since you came straight up. I saw your car pull in."

"Yeah. She thought I would be more successful in telling you to come back to school."

"Why would I do that?"

"You know, that little diploma makes a big difference in life."

He shrugged. "I have a plan. I'll be ok, and this is only temporary." He waved around. "By the time you walk across the stage, I'll be in south Florida, perfecting my chosen craft."

"So you got accepted?"

"And offered substantial financial aid." He placed two plates on the table, and she sat across from him. As always, his food was great. Her mother would understand once she told her that Ryan had offered. He had come over to their place multiple times and cooked for them.

"So where is boy toy tonight?"

"If you really need to know, we broke up."

"What? How come?"

"Because. None of your business."

"What do you mean, none of my business? How long have we been friends?"

"Don't use that shit with me. You dropped out of school without telling anybody anything."

"Touché." He smiled at her, finishing his plate. "So, you want to have sex then?"

"What?"

"At Prom you told me you would have sex with me if you were not with douche bag. Well, now you aren't, so I'm asking again."

"No!" She glared at him, and almost threw her fork, but stopped herself. "Some friend you are. How about support?"

Physics. The last of seven periods. And while they had not covered it in the class, she was convinced that the fifty minutes of this period somehow stretched out more and more everyday, the closer graduation got. Today was no different. She felt like she had been in the hot stuffy room for hours, but her watch told her that she had twenty five more minutes to go. A groan rolled of her lips.

"Have you talked to Ryan?" Casey was not disturbed by these things, mainly because it gave her endless opportunities for gossip.

"No, not since the time I went over there a couple of weeks ago. HE doesn't call anymore."

Her friend giggled. "Shouldn't have turned him down when he wanted ya." A smiled toyed around Casey's lips, before she continued. "He is leaving this Sunday."

"Really?" Maria looked over at her friend. "So I guess you didn't say no."

"I have spent a night or two over there." Her parents were much less restrictive then Maria's, so she could get away with these things. For her, it would have been murder.

"He said he wants to see you before he leaves, and asked me to tell you to come by."

"Why, so he can try to screw me again?"

"Maybe. I think he wants to say bye."

"I'll think about it." She already knew she would go.

His truck was parked in front of the garage, loaded down with boxes. She walked up the steps again, and noticed that it seemed emptier. The table and chairs were gone, as was the entertainment center and TV. The couch had been pushed against the wall, and he was vacuuming in the bedroom, which was now empty. When he saw her, he stopped, and walked out to hug her. Again he was shirtless, and again she felt herself responding to his body. He was a damn good looking man.

"Glad you came. I have something for you." He walked around to the small kitchen area, and pulled open one of the drawers, handing her a small gift wrapped box. She dropped onto the couch, and began to unravel the ribbon.

A small red box was revealed, which she opened to find another black velvet box inside. She held her breath, and opened it to a small silver necklace, the charm the shape of a jagged heart. Flipping it over, it had her birthday, and the number 18 engraved on the back.

"How..."

"The day we were in the mall, and you told douche bag you wanted that for your 18th birthday. I knew he didn't have enough imagination to get it for you, and since you've been 18 now for four months and nobody got it for you, I did." He was still by the stove, dropping stuff into boxes.

"I didn't get you anything for your birthday." This was largely related to the fact that she just now remembered that he had turned 18 three weeks ago, during the time they had not really been speaking. Now she felt like ass.

"That's ok." He smiled at her, and kept dropping silver ware into a box. "You know I didn't want anything."

"But still." Walking up behind him, she hugged him. "Thank you."

"You are welcome."

"I do have one thing I can give you."

He knew what she meant, and shook his head. "No. Don't worry about it, I told you, it's fine."

Gently, he pushed her back on the couch, and kept packing. She watched him for a while, and then joined in. At least she could be helpful.

The sun was beating down on Savannah, and she was sweating. Again. Heat seemed to be a permanent factor in college, and while she was sure it had been just as hot at home, it seemed more noticeable here. 

Dropping onto her bed, she let her eyes wander across the 'room' that she now shared with Katharine, a nice girl from Ohio. Her cell phone vibrated in her pocket, and she pulled it out, checking the Caller ID. Her face offered a slight smile as she flipped it open.

"Hello?"

"Hey babe." It was Matt, whom she had been dating now for probably about two months. They had meet at freshmen orientation, and he had walked her home that night. The rest, as they would say, was history.

"You coming over?" It was a loaded question, because by his call she already knew the answer, and the fact that she did not like it.

"Sorry. I have to go home and help my dad on the farm." He seemed to be ducking as he said it, even over the phone. He was from somewhere in the middle of nowhere south Carolina, where his parents owned a farm that apparently needed him just about every weekend. To include this one, a long one.

"Ok. I guess I'll see you Tuesday." She closed her phone without giving him the chance to reply. She wanted to cry, but what would that do? They were supposed to drive down to Jacksonville, Florida and hang out on the beach with some other people she had meet here in college. But without him, that was out.

She picked up the paper she had printed the directions on, and let her eyes follow the mapquest line to Jacksonville. But her eyes kept going, down to the tip of Florida. How much longer could it take?

The door to the apartment closed behind him, and he walked straight into the kitchen, pulled open the fridge, pulled out a beer, cracked it open, and drained nearly half.

"Tough day at work?" Marco was the oldest of his three roommates, a former soldier who had decided that while shooting howitzers was fun, it was not very marketable, and so was down here at the Florida Culinary Institute with the rest of them. 

"If it had been tough, he'd be slugging Jack." Andre was their designated party animal, who seemed to study as much as he worked on getting ass. He had rich parents that supported his educational habits, so it was ok, because he tended to pick up girls with hot friends. 

"I'm sure he'll be ok." Bill looked like a chef. With a massive mustache, a wide frame, and a short, squat stature, he was a murderous card player. So the fact that he had nearly all the quarters on the table before it came as no surprise. The three laughed, and he gave them the finger, before pulling a twenty out of his pocket, and dropping it into the bills bucket. 

"Screw you guys." He didn't notice that they were all watching him as he walked back towards his room in the back of the apartment.

The room was dark, and he left the lights off, dropping onto his bed. His parents had stopped all support for him when he dropped out of high school, even making him pay rent for the small room over the garage he 'rented' from them. 

But once he got accepted to FCI, and prepared to move out, the ice had thawed. His father had explained that a good bed was key in college, even if his college was not the traditional kind. So they had sprung for a new frame, a box spring, an awesome mattress, and all the trimmings. Felt like sleeping on a king sized cloud.

"Still want it?"

The voice nearly made him throw his beer across the room, as he jumped out of the bed, his heart beating in his throat. "What the..."

"I thought I'd come visit." Sarah rose from the chair by his computer, the darkest part of the room, and walked towards him. He was breathing heavy, and so it took a second for him to take her into his arms.

"Hey. Damn, you scared the shit out of me." HE offered her the beer, and she took a pull from the bottle.

"You are about the last person I expected to come see me."

"Anybody else come down?"

"No, but a lot of people promise to." He kissed her forehead, and they sat on the bed.

"Your roommates let me in. Nice guys." She took another sip from the beer, and then slipped onto his lap. "I meant it, you know."

"Meant what?"

"I want to have sex with you."

He looked at her for a second, then set the beer aside, and kissed her. It was a soft, tenuous first kiss that grew as their tongues touched, and danced back and forth. They fell backwards into the duvet, arms wrapped around each other, growing passion between them. She pulled his shirt up over his head, smelling kitchen, cooking, and sweat on him. She could not believe how much it was turning her on.

Rolling him onto his back, she kissed his chest, biting his nipples, inhaling his scent. Slowly she moved down. He must have been working out again, because his body was back to its normal ripped state, and she ran her hands across his chiseled abdomen. 

His hands traced down her body, reaching the end of her shirt, and pulled it up over her head. She let it go, and watched him toss it somewhere. His fingers traced along her skin, up to her blond hair, running through it. 

Rolling, he was now on top. They kissed again, lips locked once more. Their kisses had become more powerful, more passionate. He fumbled briefly with the clasp of her bra, and then pulled it off. 

"36C?"

"What?"

"I always figured you for a B cup." Before she could respond, he leaned down, sucking one of her nipples into his mouth, biting it gently. The other hand slipped into her shorts, grabbing her ass. She moaned out, as he went back and forth between nipples.

His hands were busy at work, finally unzipping, unclipping, and pulling down her shorts. He left the thong for now, instead focusing on grabbing her ass. She pushed her chest into his face, loving the attention he lavished on her tits. 

Slowly he began to kiss down, his tongue seemingly exploring every inch of her. Pulling her thong aside, his tongue teased her lips as he slipped her legs over his shoulders. She looked down, and saw him smiling up at her.

"You don't have to..."

"I want to." With one swift push, his tongue sunk all the way into her, and she moaned out again. He flipped it up and down, teasing and caressing her clit, lips, vulva, and ass. With rapid strokes he tattooed her little clit with pleasure, bringing out feelings she had never enjoyed before. 

He just kept going, licking, flicking, his hands roaming her body, squeezing and toying with her tits, every once in a while rubbing her ass again. She moaned out loud as he pushed his tongue deep into her, fucking her little pussy with it. Grabbing his head, she directed him where she enjoyed it the most, pushing his face into her. He dove in with renewed passion, kissing and licking her most intimate parts. 

Her breathing became rapid now, and she moaned over and over as he worked her clit over. It came on like the rising tide. She felt it, almost saw it coming, but was not sure what it meant. When the orgasm hit her, her whole body seized up, and she squeezed his head with her legs. Her mouth opened as if to scream but nothing came out, as she rode the wave, until it crashed over her head.

"I can't breathe." His voice was muffled, and she released him from between her legs. A happy smile was on her face as he crawled on top of her. They kissed again, and she tasted herself on him. Slowly he drew her legs up around his waist, still kissing her.

She reached down, and grasped his manhood with one hand. He had already slipped on a condom, and she wondered when he had found the time to do that. Placing him at her opening, she exhaled as he slowly pushed himself all the way in. He was only the third man to have ever been inside her, and definitely the one with the most girth.

He bit her neck, as he slowly began to slide in and out of her mouth, her body moving with his. Wrapping her arms around him, she nibbled on his ear as he pumped her, harder and harder.

Drawing her legs tight to her chest, she felt him push deeper and deeper into her. The sensation was awesome, and she did not want him to stop. He didn't, just kept going, building a rhythm that threatened to blast her into another orgasm.

Pushing up on his knees, his angle changed, rubbing across her clit and sliding deep into her. She cried out with each thrust, her body shaking beneath him like a live wire, until the feeling washed over her again. Her nails dragged up his back, leaving red marks and tears in the skin.

He was slamming into her now, sweat dripping from his chest to hers, pooling between her tits, his lips racing from her neck to her nipples to her lips. They were in a feeding frenzy of each other, as he crammed himself into her tight pussy over and over. Suddenly he slowed down, and she realized he was close.

Pulling him into her, she felt him explode into the condom, then collapse atop her. Both were covered in sweat, breathing heavy. Lazily reaching over, he took a sip from the beer, and offered it to her.

"I don't have any cigarettes."

"I guess this will have to do then."

"You are awesome."

"I'm pretty glad I came, yeah." She leaned up, kissing him again, then closed her eyes. She felt him pull out, move around, and finally come to rest next to her. Wrapping his arms around her, she slithered against his body, kissing his chest. He tasted like salt.

"Worth waiting for." His voice was soft in her ear before she passed out.



Worth Waiting For



I found you lying there on the bed, asleep. I'd taken too long taking care of other things that keep me apart from you. I like being with you. I like the way you make me feel. It's comfortable, like worn jeans and a cotton sweater on a laughing Sunday afternoon. My hair out of the way, but paint smeared upon my smiling face. Except with you, you make me smolder so I leave off my panties and my bra so I can feel the touch of the clothing move against my nakedness while I try to restrain myself from touching you. I'm hoping you'll stand behind me and kiss my neck. Slide your hands up underneath as you cup my breasts, twisting my tender nipples as you seduce me yet again. I'm hoping we keep it that way.

You look so peaceful. I'm surprised you aren't cold lying on top of the bed that way. I lean against the door so I can take you in without restraint and hope that you won't wake. You're body sinks into the softness of the bed, your left arm above you, your face relaxed, your right arm lax and your hand resting upon your stomach just above your hardening member. Tanned, firm lines grace your entire body. You are absolutely glorious. You love being naked and don't even realize it is a gift to the heavens for you to wander about unclothed. Lucky me. I feel myself swell, heat building, nipples hardening. One day I'll recreate your body out of clay, just exactly this way.

I'm trying to decide if it's right or wrong to slide quietly between your legs and take you in my mouth while you slumber. I wonder if I could do it in such a way you wouldn't wake at all? I like the way you look. You look full, heavy, like you need release to me. You're hard, but I could take your further. The veins course through your length, wrap around your width like vines. You must be thinking of something that arouses you, and of course I hope it's always me, yet it isn't free reign. 

I'd like to take warm oil and cover your body in it, taking in every quiver, every stretch, hear you sigh in relief. I love the way it feels to be slippery and wet in your arms. The way you look into my eyes when I'm most excited, and how powerful it makes you feel for me to completely let go at your touch again and again. I want the kisses of your mouth to fill me like Solomon's wine.

Sometimes it is the simple things in this life that are finest. I don't need a lot; a purpose, my children, the love of a good man. The way we put a meal together, or make something beautiful together, or the way we comfort one another. It makes me feel whole. Even amidst pure chaos there is a constant sort of connection and flow that I feel and it's just good.

My feet are silent on the carpet as I come near you. I hear your steady breathing, can smell your perfume, that smell that is just you. Though I'm drawn to you, I don't want to disturb you, demand too much. So I take a comforter off the seat. As I lean forward to gently cover you with it so you won't chill, my breasts sway heavily towards you, yearning but denied. Covered, I'm safe from my obsessive desire for you for the time being, and my passion for you makes me smile at your sleeping face. The room is darkening so I don't risk the clatter of blinds and you deeply sigh. I'm happy in your contentedness and abandon you to your slumber. As I go there are many things that still need to be done and I start cataloguing them in my head. We're alone, but not for long. I'm almost to the door when I hear you say, "Leave me alone and I'll slide you over my knees Naughty Girl. Come to me."

I stop at the sound of your voice, of course. You're so funny and sexy and I love what you've just said. While I was trying to behave and not wake you up, I'm hardly disappointed that you have. I turn my head and say, "Naughty?!? I'll show you naughty." Smiling at you, my eyes sparkle at your smiling face. I walk back to the side of the bed. "What exactly is it that you want?" 

You reach for my hand and I give it. "You."

"Yeah I want you too."

"Good. Take of your clothes and show me how you want me." and you release my hand so I'll do your bidding.

"Like this?" I say as I lift my sweater a bit and slide towards the button of my jeans, loosen it and slowly unzip. Suddenly it's clear I've been sans panties all afternoon and you laughingly say "My, my, my you are the naughty girl today." I drop my jeans to the floor and step out of them as my response. The air of the room is a contrast to my heat and moistness and I suppose I ought to have some kind of shame for being so absolutely wanton about my desire for you, but there's none to be found. I start to climb on the bed to get under the covers with you, but you hasten me to wait, "No, kneel right there, just like that picture that I like." I stop, on my knees, legs slightly apart left more out to the side than the right and balance." "Okaaaaay" I say a little hesitantly. You lift my sweater up, "What is this anyway? This is just going to have to go." And then remove it while I laugh at your demeanor. When my sweater is off your eyes have taken a little more serious tone and you take my face in your hands and kiss me long and slow. I'm jelly, spaghetti kneed, warm mush at your touch. Your hands travel down my arms, one settling in the small of my back the other just exactly where I live for you. You barely touch me, a small gasp escapes me "This, is going to be mine one day very, very soon." 

I've been waiting so very long for that day and while I think it's well worth the wait to have what I want with you be safe and secure and full of trust and warmth, my body has become so attuned to you that I just simply and unexpectedly explode within and my release is expressed by my hands reaching for you, a shudder and my resting my head on your shoulder. "Oh Philip, you drive me insane." I say breathlessly. "Oh, my kitten, THAT was amazing." As you kiss me again and again I am shaking with desire.



Worth Waiting For



My stories tend toward the nonconsent/taboo side, but I want to be clear that I'm in no way suggesting that the acts in my stories are okay. Forced sex is a fantasy I enjoy and I write for other similarly minded people. Real rape is ugly and sad, and if it's something you're considering acting out you should seek help.

*

Well, I wasn't precisely happy with how many errors slipped through in the first version, but I was ready to chalk it up to it being my first story and leave it at that. However, when I asked my syntax-Nazi editor for some general comments on what I could do better with, he went through and reedited the whole thing, assuring me that the original version was offensive to the eyes what with all the technical errors and that I needed to get an edited version up ASAP. So here it is. A big thanks to Ian_Kamp for taking the time to reedit, and for pushing me to be a better writer.

On a related note, anyone who wants to send their stories to him for comments and possible editing should bear in mind that he is not one of those editors who pads every criticism with a compliment to spare your feelings. I'm a glutton for punishment, and it takes a little bit of that in order to not burst out in tears at some of his comments.

Enjoy the story.

Oh yeah, and all characters are still 18+

*

My brother ground his cotton-covered erection into my mons. He pinned my wrists to the bed with fingers of steel as he undulated against me. Years of anger and sexual frustration had been pent up, and were now on the verge of release all at once.

Allow me to sketch a brief overview: in my final year of high school, I was still a virgin. I had managed a couple of covert finger-fuckings and an almost-fuck, but still hadn't lost my virginity. Not for lack of trying, let me assure you. Due to a combination of my parents' dysfunctional marriage, our familial lack of religion, and my unrestricted television viewing from youth, I had no scruples about losing my virginity in a meaningless fling and proceeding on to other meaningless flings. In fact, I had been eager to get on with the meaningless flings from the age of thirteen, when I truly became aware of the opposite sex. Why was I still a virgin then? Because my brothers are completely psychotic. 

Whereas my father couldn't care less if I started dating at thirteen or thirty, my hypocritical brothers seemed to think thirty was the ideal age for me to start dating, if ever. Why do I call them hypocritical? Because I happen to know they lost their respective virginities at the same time by tag-teaming a girl a year older than them during their freshman year. My brothers have always been good-looking and got onto the fast-track of muscular development at an early age; their good looks and gorgeous bodies, combined with the novelty of their being identical twins, guaranteed them both very active sex lives early on.

Unfortunately for me, much as they enjoyed sex, they turned into complete Neanderthals at the thought of their baby sister having sex. More especially unfortunate for me, was the fact that my middle school was conjoined to their high school: the same high school I ended up going to with them later on. Also, the only extracurricular activity I took an interest in was boxing; my parents, breaking away from their usual policy of not giving a shit what their kids did, insisted I go to the same gym as Tyler and Ryan. My brothers' constant presence afforded them the opportunity to not only stalk me and make sure I wasn't up to anything, but also to threaten any guy who seemed to show an interest in me. 

Despite their being two years older than me, my problems were not lessened upon my junior year as both brothers had dicked around too much in school and had to stay on an extra year to earn credits. Having spent my junior year in anticipation of having the freedom to fuck anyone I wanted at school the next year, one can imagine I was sorely disappointed that summer to learn that Tyler had decided to go into law and needed to go back for yet another term to upgrade. 

I had been entertaining fantasies of extravagant ways to lose my virginity (walking in on the football team in the showers after practice, getting myself a detention with my hot English teacher and banging his brains out, etc.) and to have those dreams go up in smoke left me absolutely livid and twice as sexually frustrated as before. I'd tried leaving boxing to make time for a boyfriend on the sly, but Tyler found out through mutual acquaintances at school (backstabbing friends of mine who sold me out for a chance with my brother) and promptly put a stop to that through a combination of buddying up to my potential hymen-breakers and threatening to beat the shit out of them if they touched me. The last couple of months had been excessively frustrating, but even more frustrating was that I had three months more until Tyler left my school for good and I had any chance of having a life. 

The past two months had been almost non-stop arguing between Tyler and me, with Ryan occasionally teaming up with his twin against me. Ryan had decided to take a year off and work before going to university, so that he and Tyler could be first year together (some sort of twin thing), so he was still at home to vex me, too. 

However, the worst of the arguments were the one-on-ones between just Tyler and me, which had become increasingly frequent and increasingly physical. One of these arguments was largely why I was being pinned to my bed by my big brother, nightie rucked up around my hips, as he ground his impressive hard-on into my crotch. 

All my anger and sexual frustration had culminated into this moment and, suddenly, the hard cock pressing insistently between my legs was all that mattered. My clit throbbed and I obliged it by rubbing it hard against the instrument of its arousal. Not having worn panties to bed since I can remember, my wetness seeped out and quickly began soaking through the front of Ty's pyjama bottoms.

My lips parted and I felt my cheeks flush. I had watched myself in the mirror many times while I first aroused myself, then brought myself to orgasm, and I could feel my face take on the expression I wear when unbearably aroused. All I could do was move against my brother and look up into his face, into the expression of a man giving in to a pleasure long denied him. That look of sweet breaking only increased as he ground into me harder and harder with each stir of his hips. He released one wrist and cupped my face in his large, callused hand.

"You've been making me crazy, you know that?" He leaned down until his lips grazed my ear as he continued in a rigid voice, "You don't even know how many times I nearly threw you down when you were prancing around in one of your little nightshirts with no panties on. I wanted to slam you on the floor and spread your legs, lick you 'til you came, then fuck you senseless." 

His words had increased the flow of blood to my pussy and I felt almost feverish, but still he continued, torturing me with frustration as I had apparently been torturing him. 

"Or when you wear those slutty little skirts that I'm always on your ass about 'cause they'll make guys think the wrong thing," he breathed hotly into my ear, "They sure as hell make me think the wrong thing." He punctuated this with a vicious buck of his hips, contrasted sharply by the soft, almost chaste, kiss he laid upon my lips.

My clit was throbbing so hard it seemed liable to explode and the inner walls of my cunt felt like molten lava was sliding down them. Through the haze of passion, one thing leapt out at me. "Since when?" I asked, though fairly sure I knew the answer.

Tyler lowered his mouth to my ear and nipped all around it, sucking on my earlobe even, before answering me. "Golden Gloves."

***

I had started boxing when I was sixteen, but, for a long time, had only had matches at local cards. This was to be my first out-of-town card, and not only was I thrilled, but my brothers were actually delighted to have me along. Although they harassed me to the point of insanity during the six-hour drive to the tournament, they also took turns acting as my pillow when I wanted to nap, cuddling me and generally acting brotherly. 

We had been fighting a lot in recent weeks over their high-handed ways when it came to my dating; they had decided to allow me to go on a date, only to show up at the movies and seat themselves three rows behind me. As usual, my parents did nothing to intervene and, unable to overpower my brothers, all I could do was scream at them then stomp to my room, slam the door and wait for the day they wouldn't be around to plague me. 

It was nice for all of us to have this respite from arguing. However, it didn't last too long once we reached the hotel where the Golden Gloves were being held. The next morning in fact, during weigh-ins, was when things first when awry. 

Despite commonly-held stereotypes of females in boxing, there really are a lot of pretty girls in the sport. All modesty aside, Janelle and I were two such girls. Both of us were trim and toned, pretty, and well-dressed. Janelle was a year in between me and my brothers, and if she knew one thing, it was how to flirt. At the first day of weigh-ins, she had struck up with a trio of guys from another gym and somehow I found myself flirting and enjoying the attentions of one particularly hot Latino guy, Jose. Ryan and Tyler were both glaring at me, and by unspoken agreement, Tyler held their place in line to weigh in while Ryan came over to break up our little party, neatly introducing himself and promptly suggesting the guys get in line quickly or they would have to wait hours to get in for their weigh-ins and medicals. To say I was irked would be putting it mildly. 

As the morning progressed, I started to feel the full indignity of being treated like a little girl who couldn't be expected to know her own mind whenever there was a penis around. I stewed in my own juices and by lunchtime, my indignation had increased to magnificent proportions; I knew about sex, I knew about protection and birth control, and I sure as hell knew what I was and wasn't ready for and I bitterly resented the control my brothers were exerting over my life. As I sat down for lunch with the team in the hotel restaurant, I couldn't quite restrain myself from darting resentful looks at my brothers every couple of minutes. The fact that I was eating soup and salad because I'd barely made weight while my brothers had made their weights with room to spare and were currently eating burgers and fries did nothing to curb my resentment. 

All that had transpired made me act somewhat recklessly when the boys from the weigh-ins, including Jose the Hottie, came up to Janelle and me, who were sitting at a table for two, off to the side of the boys from our team. 

The wattage of my smile for Jose could blind while I blatantly ignored my brothers, whose glares were the polar opposite of my sunny smile. Janelle and I made small talk with the guys and I was congratulating myself on finally putting my brothers in their place when Jose leaned in close and told me that they were ordering a movie later on in their room, and they'd love it if we'd both stop by. Shivers went up my spine at his sexy accent. Unfortunately, I was apparently not the only one who reacted to Jose's intimate tone. Ryan and Tyler's chairs screeched backward as they shot to their feet and got between Jose and me. Tyler grabbed Jose by the collar and hauled him up close to his face.

"My sister isn't going anywhere near you or your room, dickhead. I better not see you around her any time during the tournament, or there's going to be ass-whuppings dished out, got it?" 

As one can imagine, boxers being the peace-loving bunch that we are, this did not go over well with Jose and his friends. If it weren't for our coach jumping into the middle of things and sorting everyone out, there most definitely would have been a brawl right in the middle of the restaurant. Luckily, Joey got everyone calmed down and our team sat back down while those not on the team dispersed, everyone seemingly ready to get on with lunch. Except my brothers and me. 

Ryan had sat back down, at least confining his anger to a disapproving glare, but Tyler leaned down and got right up in my face, and said, "I better not see you talking to any of those guys again," before sitting back down and going back to his food. 

My rage exploded. "Who the fuck do you think you are? I will do what the fuck I please, and if it pleases me to hang out with those guys then you can be damn sure I will!" I screamed at the top of my lungs, any care for public propriety flung out the window.

"You think that's what they wanna do? Hang out? They wanna get in your pants, you little retard." 

"Yeah, well, I'll let them do that, too, if I feel like it." I delivered this in my snottiest tone of voice.

The entire team went quiet. Everyone knew my brothers' feelings on my having sex, and nobody knew what was going to happen next. Tyler and Ryan's expressions turned murderous, but it was Tyler who spoke, his voice low and menacing: "You are lucky as hell I don't beat your ass for that, but you can be damn sure you're not boxing anymore." With all the finality of a parent who has just told off a particularly stupid and bratty child, he once again returned to his food.

That was really it for me. I can honestly say I don't think I've ever been so mad in my life as I was at that moment. My last vestiges of self-restraint snapped, and I stood up, picked up my still-hot soup, and dumped it in Tyler's lap. I walked away feeling very self-satisfied. 

At least, I was feeling self-satisfied until I was yanked backward by my ponytail, spun around and tipped over a hard shoulder. Tyler had simply picked me up and started carrying me out of the restaurant much as one would a naughty child. I screamed obscenities at him and even managed to elbow him in the back of the head once, but he didn't even slow down. 

Into the elevator, up to the fourth floor, into a room not mine, so obviously Ryan and Tyler's, and then I was dumped unceremoniously onto the bed, face-first. I scrambled to get off the bed as Tyler plopped down, but he just grabbed me by the scruff of the neck and hauled me over his lap. I felt my track pants yanked down as I struggled to no avail. The soup-soaked front of his pants spread its wetness to my T-shirt as I kicked and jerked in his lap.

"What the fuck are you doing, jerk off?" I screamed, just as he simultaneously asked, "What the fuck are you wearing?"

As he clearly expected an answer first, I ventured out with: "It's called a thong, shithead."

"What the fuck kind of respectable girl wears thongs?" He brought a hand down hard on my bare ass cheek.

"OW! Jesus, Tyler! What the fuck!"

"See? That's what this is about!" Smack! "Your fuckin' mouth lately!" Smack! "Your slutty clothes lately!" Smack! "We try and teach you to respect yourself and all we get is shit from you! Maybe if Dad would have done this when he should have, you wouldn't be such a little mouthpiece!" SMACK!

I can't deny the tanning my ass was receiving hurt like hell, but a familiar stirring was occurring between my legs. I had never consciously harboured any love for pain, but suddenly the stinging of my ass translated directly into the throbbing of my pussy. I instinctively spread my legs, perhaps hoping for a blow gone awry to land on my pulsing mound. I could feel my lips plumping up and my clit rubbing against my thong as it distended from its hood. Tyler was still yammering on, but all I could focus on were the blows to my ass and the heat at the juncture of my thighs.

Suddenly, Tyler froze. I felt him shift underneath me. Still holding me down by the neck, it felt almost as if he were... leaning over to examine me from behind. Reality came crashing in, and I clamped my thighs together, but I was apparently too late.

"Why are your panties wet, Alyssa?"

I squeezed my eyes shut in mortification. This didn't last long, however, as embarrassment quickly turned to anger in a defensive reflex. This wasn't my fault! I wasn't sick; I was just sexually deprived. And I knew just who to blame for that!

"Because I'm fucking horny! Because unlike most horny people my age who can go out and fool around and take care of their needs, I have two psycho brothers who stalk me, threaten all the guys around me, and now fucking spank me!"

My thighs had parted somewhat during this tirade and Tyler's response was not the angry return I'd expected, but rather the feeling of his hand placed on the back of the thigh closest his body, his fingers trailing down between my legs.

There was a pregnant pause. 

"And how would you take care of those needs?" he asked softly, fingers now stroking back and forth along the inside of my thigh, dangerously close to my puffy lips that didn't seem to care who the fingers belonged to, brother or otherwise.

Did Tyler know what he was doing to me? The feelings he was arousing? The flow of wetness he was doing nothing to ebb? I couldn't think to answer his question. I hadn't an intelligent thought in my head, only a hazy picture in my mind's eye of those fingers closing the distance to my core, pulling aside my thong and plunging inside of me. 

Apparently, my pussy was not as disconnected from my mouth as my brain was, because I heard myself saying, "I would find a hot guy, and I would start by letting him finger me. I want to feel what it's like when it's when it's someone else's fingers." All this I delivered in a breathless voice, losing my mind from wanting my brother's fingers inside me, not stopping to feel shy that I had basically just admitted to putting my own fingers up my cunt, or that I had just hinted fairly strongly that that was where I wanted his. All I could think about was getting those callused fingers to stop teasing me and go where I needed them.

The soaked front of my T-shirt caused me to squirm uncomfortably and I felt something hard underneath my tummy. I wasn't sure, but I thought he must be hard. The thought that I had excited him as much as he had me caused a gush of wetness to seep out and I moaned for want of his fingers. 

It seemed I was about to get my wish as I felt Ty's fingertips brushing up and down over my slit, over each of my swollen lips. Then there was only one finger there, travelling up my soaked thong to where it was pulled taut between pussy and ass, then hooking underneath it, sloooowly drawing it outward...

The moment was shattered when we heard a key card being slid into the door. Ryan! I jerked my head up just as Tyler shoved me off his lap and onto the floor with a thud. I yanked up my pants and jumped up to see Ryan regarding us very strangely.

After much fidgeting and bullshitting, Tyler allayed some of the suspicion in Ryan's eyes, but Ryan, being genetically the same person as Tyler, definitely knew something was up.

I was confused. I didn't know what to think about what I'd done with my brother, what I'd wanted to do with my brother. My confusion was made worse still by Tyler's avoidance of me over the next few days of the tournament and then compounded when, on the last day of the trip, I came into my room only to find the TV blaring and Janelle on all fours, mewling like a cat in heat while Tyler pounded into her from behind.

Tyler and I didn't talk for nearly two weeks after that, and I could barely contain my hostility toward Janelle. Tyler was sullen and withdrawn around me, going so far as to stay mute when I went back to boxing, against his dictate. Don't get me wrong; I sure didn't want my brother telling me what to do and running my life, but I also didn't want him not to be part of it at all. 




Worth Waiting For



We started talking again, tentatively at first, and eventually settled back into a semi-normal routine, but we had crossed some invisible line that no amount of acting casual could uncross.

***

"If you wanted me, why did you fuck Janelle?" I asked, old hurt interrupting, but not dispelling entirely, my passion.

"Because I wanted you. I felt like the biggest dick in the world doing that to my little sister, so I fucked her to take my mind off you. You were so pretty and sweet and hot for sex, but I was s'posed to protect you from yourself, and I sure as hell wasn't s'posed to want to fuck my own baby sister." He nuzzled my neck, "But you're not a baby anymore."

His hard cock lifted away from my clit, and I made a noise of disapproval at which he chuckled. "Baby girl, I've got something better for you than dry fucking." His lips came down on mine at the same second his fingers plunged inside me. My mouth came open on a cry and his tongue thrust inside, tangling with mine, stroking and coaxing it to pleasure... much as his fingers were doing to the inside of my cunt. His thumb sought and found my clit, which he started rubbing in a circular motion. 

The pressure was building inside me. I could feel the pump of blood in my clit struggle against my brother's teasing thumb while my inner walls contracted around his thrusting fingers. It felt like an electrical charge building inside my clitoris, which finally exploded as my sweet big brother swallowed my cries. 

My pussy convulsed around his fingers as I came, and the shocking strength of my orgasm overwhelmed me, making my eyes water; not from any corny feelings of ultimate fulfillment, simply a sensory overload unlike anything I'd ever experienced. I'd never made myself come like that, and I doubted I ever could. I had to admit that the strength of my orgasm was at least partially due to the fact that it was my brother's fingers inside me.

Ty withdrew his fingers and propped himself up on an elbow to smile down at me. He leaned in and kissed me. "Fuck, you look pretty when you come." 

I'm not sure, but I think I may have blushed at that. 

His eyes darkened with sincerity, and his voice lost any trace of humor. "You do know I love you, right? It's not like I planned this or anything sick like that, but I'm pretty much at the breaking point, baby girl. So if you wanna stop, you need to tell me now." 

Looking up into his eyes, I felt no doubt of his sincerity. It didn't matter anyway. Over the years, my increasing obsession with my brothers had caused me to put a great deal of thought into the moral question of incest. I had learned in school that the risk of defects in a child born of an incestuous relationship is actually only one or two percent higher than normal. Not being religious, my only concern was what nature dictated, and it seemed to me that nature had pretty much given incest a green light. Just not generation after generation of inbreeding. I'd decided it's like sugar: a little is okay, a lot... not so much.

Even if I hadn't decided I wasn't going to burn for eternity for fucking my brother, I doubt I could have stopped myself. One tremendous orgasm opened my eyes to the possibility of others, and I very much wanted to play student to my brother's teacher. It had always excited me more to think of Tyler and Ryan while getting myself off than to think of any other, but the thrill of actually having my brother touch me had been electrifying. Now I wanted to know if it was the same way for him.

I reached down and felt for his cock, which was still at full mast and showed no signs of flagging. This cock had been inside me before. Only a couple of inches in, but it had almost been the one to take my virginity.

***

A thrill shot through me at finally having fingers other than my own inside me. They felt good, too. Not as good, nor as experienced as my own, but good and exciting simply because they were attached to a guy. 

Sean, the vapid but extremely attractive jock I'd picked up at my friend's party, kissed his way down my neck to my collarbone. I wondered whether he was strong enough to lift me, so we could fuck inside the closet. We had ducked inside when more people had arrived in the game room where we'd been making out on top of the pool table. Some heavy petting had led to my shirt being down around my waist. They knew we were in here, but I didn't particularly care. My sole thoughts were focused on what was to come and if it would be as good as I'd imagined.

Just as I reached for Sean's belt buckle, the closet door was flung open.

Oh, fuck.

Tyler yanked Sean out by the collar and yelled at me to pull up my shirt. 

I, of course, yelled back at him and tried to stop him from beating the shit out of Sean.

Yet another night of our ongoing drama. We didn't speak except to snarl at each other for about a week, but I've always been the softer of the two of us, breaking down and being the first to talk. What can I say? I love my brother. 

A week later, I couldn't sleep I was so upset. I knew I wouldn't change my mind, nor would my brothers change theirs, which made it even more pointless to be mad. So I went to Tyler's room to talk, only to find him splayed out under his bed sheet. He and Ryan both wore either pyjama pants or boxers to bed each night, so his chest was bare to my gaze. And what a chest it was... 

I couldn't help but run my gaze over his body before I shut the door and climbed into bed with him like I used to when we were little. As I was drifting off to sleep, I felt an arm drape over me. I snuggled back into my brother, feeling happy and safe with him like I never could when we were arguing.

I don't know how long I slept, but I was dreaming of Sean in the closet. Nibbling my neck, putting his hand between my legs, only this time I was facing the wall, lending the dream a mysterious air. 

I moaned and hooked my leg back over his, only to feel his fingers replaced by something larger, hotter. I knew it had to be his cock, just as I had somewhere along the line in my dreamy state come to know it was my brother's cock, freed from his pyjama bottoms and pressing into me, slowly filling and stretching me, a centimeter at a time... I couldn't wait any longer to be filled up, so I rocked my hips back, only to feel him stiffen up behind me as he awoke to find himself in the process of burying himself inside his baby sister.

"What the fu-ALYSSA!" A hard shove to my back and suddenly I was on the floor. 

It was starting to seem like our little get-togethers always had to end up with me getting dumped on the floor...

***

"Do you remember the time I got into bed with you?" I asked, knowing I didn't need to distinguish that time from all the innocent times I'd climbed in with him and nothing had happened.

He groaned, whether at the question, or the feel of me stroking him through his pyjama pants, I don't know.

"As if I could forget." 

"Why did you stop?"

Whatever his reasons then, he sure seemed to have trouble coming up with one now...

"...I guess... I was just surprised. I didn't know what was going on, if you wanted it..."

I had wanted it, and I'd felt very cheated that -instead of getting it- I'd gotten dumped on the floor and treated to another two weeks of silent treatment. It suddenly occurred to me that I could finally see the cock I'd been coveting up close and personal, and I couldn't get his drawstrings undone fast enough. I yanked down his PJ bottoms and his cock sprang out, much larger than I had remembered or anticipated.

"Um, Ty?" I asked, touching the tip apprehensively.

"Yeah, baby?"

"Is that going to fit?"

Tyler grinned down at me. "Don't worry, it'll be a tight fit, but we'll manage."

I snorted at that. "I didn't zone out through high school, Ty. I had two psycho brothers preventing me from getting any, but I do know about sex. I know it's good to be tight, but this thing seriously looks like it's gonna rip me open and, you know Jada? She said she got ripped open one time and now she's prone to tearing forever," I rambled.

"Well, we'll just have to make sure you're good and wet," he said as he leaned down and recaptured my lips, forcing them open and sliding in his tongue. He reached for the hem of my nightie and pulled it up and over my head, and I obliged him by lifting up and breaking our kiss for just long enough to be rid of any barrier between us.

His fingers once again moved to my slit, gathering some of my freely-flowing juice, then moved up to rub my still swollen clit. I threw my head back and moaned into my brother's mouth, surrendering my worries to desire at the feel of his tongue massaging mine.

His lips were moving away from mine then, trailing from my lips to my ear, then down the column of my throat. As his lips captured a nipple and drew it into his mouth, I bucked into the hand that was pulling at and teasing my clit. My hands twisted in the sheets as I writhed and tried to increase the contact. My pussy, which had cooled to warm and tingling after I came, was once again on fire as my brother teased it in harmony with his suckling of my nipple. My other nipple demanded attention, and my incoherent pleas were answered as Tyler switched attention over to it.

I craved another orgasm and could feel myself well on my way to achieving one when Ty released my nipple and slithered down my body to join his hand. I felt a callused finger pressing inside me, soon joined by another, and then I nearly hit the roof as my brother used the fingers of his other hand to pull back the hood of my clit, and then reached out with his tongue and licked it. 

He kept licking and the pressure grew more intense, pressure from the fingers inside me as well as the lashing of his tongue against my clit, when he leaned in and sucked my whole clit into his mouth, I exploded. I could feel the electroshock-like release in my clit, accompanied by something I wasn't expecting: a gush of fluid came out of me.

"Oh my God, Ty! Get off! GET OFF!" I screamed, shoving at his head.

He turned to look at the closed door, but made no move to vacate my path, instead grabbing my thighs and holding them open as he looked at me quizzically.

"What's wrong, baby?"

"I just pissed the bed! Get out of my way!"

He looked confused for a second, then laughed. "Honey, you just squirted."

I wrinkled my nose. "I don't know what that is, but it sounds gross."

"Thought you knew so much about sex..." he teased. "It's like the chick version of ejaculating. It's not pee. You can come without squirting; it's just a different kind of orgasm."

"Oh." Well, that made sense. "I never did that before..."

"Obviously." He grinned. "Wanna try something else you never did before?" He wiggled his eyebrows, gesturing with his head to his once again neglected, and still rock hard, shaft.

I nodded nervously. "'Kay, just go easy, alright?"

He sobered instantly. "Baby, you know I wouldn't hurt you. I'll make this good for you." He took up his position, and began to press into me. Slowly, not just out of fear of hurting me, but simply because my unused pussy wouldn't allow entrance any faster.

The feeling of being invaded and stretched beyond belief was overwhelming... and satisfying. Like an itch gone long without scratching and suddenly attended to. It was borderline orgasmic just feeling him inch his way inside. Then he reached my hymen. 

Tyler stopped, leaned down and kissed me as he broke through my virginity. It hadn't hurt as much as I thought it would, and I was almost instantaneously refocusing on the fact that my brother was all the way inside me. His pubic bone pressed into mine and I looked down to see where we joined. The sight was so erotic my pussy spasmed, and I felt him pulse in answer.

He began to stroke in and out, and I felt my body clasping at him trying to pull him in deeper. His head dropped down and he was laying butterfly kisses all over my neck again. I turned and frantically found his lips this time, feeling the pressure building again, but too slowly this time. I wanted it faster and harder, but didn't know what to do or how to ask for it.

My body did, however, and my hips bucked up against him. With that simple action, the dam of my brother's self-restraint was broken and Tyler began slamming into me, gripping my hips almost painfully, hauling me up into him as he plunged home. For the third time, I came, this time milking my brother's cock and triggering his own orgasm. He thrust deeper than he had yet and I felt his cock spasm as it poured hot cum inside me.

My legs had become wrapped around him at some point, and I released only one, allowing him to roll onto his back with me draped over him, his waning cock still inside me. I rested my head on his chest and listened to the heartbeat of my first lover. My brother.

Neither of us seemed to really know what to say to break the silence. Our parents had a thing about respecting our privacy, so, knowing they would assume by Tyler's empty room that he had gone out and that they would never open my door without my permission, I simply snuggled against him and fell asleep.

I dreamt erotic dreams that night, replaying the sex I'd had with my brother as well as dreaming up new experiences with him. At one point in my dreams, Ryan walked in on Tyler fucking me. Instead of being disgusted, he walked over and kissed me on the lips. Tyler vacated the space between my legs and allowed Ryan to take over. My dream changed scenarios again, and I felt fingers toying with my nipple while a hard cock wedged itself between my thighs. I awoke to feel Tyler biting my neck as he pushed inside me once again. 

"Morning, baby girl," he said softly, thrusting into me from behind. I moaned in answer.

His thrusts were much more languid than the barely leashed variety he had started with the night before. This time, slowly stirring both of us to passion rather than near bursting with urgency, as we both had been. Oddly, this was no less arousing, and I found myself clasping on his cock just as hungrily as I had when he'd been pounding into me. 

His lips tickled my ear before he sucked my earlobe into his mouth. My hips instinctively jerked back on him, pulling him deeper inside me. Suddenly, his slow strokes were no longer enough and I rolled my hips back harder and harder, trying to take control from a position that allowed for limited movement.

He answered by sinking his teeth into my earlobe and slamming into me. 

"Is that how you want it, baby?" he growled.

"Yes..." I moaned, my voice sounding young and lost even to my own ears.

"You got it then," he said, rolling me onto my tummy and kicking apart my thighs with his knees. He surged back into me and began pounding me with an even greater ferocity than the night before.

My soaking pussy demanded more of the cock slamming into it and I arched my back, taking him in deeper than I had yet and feeling him on a new point that hadn't yet been touched.

I felt the same pressure building up that I had the night before when I'd squirted, but this time I just let it come. My pussy clamped down on Tyler and I arched my back even further as I started gushing hot fluid all over my brother's balls and the bed.

"Oh, fuck!" My orgasm catapulted him into his own and he gripped my ass, spreading apart my cheeks, and banged into me hard before he jerked and began spraying his seed inside me.

With that, he grunted and collapsed on top of me, his heavy weight crushing me into the mattress. 

"That was incredible." My voice was muffled by the pillow I was being squashed into.

He chuckled and dropped a kiss on my shoulder. "Yeah, it was. I know it sounds fucked up, but I'm kinda glad it worked out like this."

"Like what?" I asked, pushing off my foot until we were rolled back onto our sides, my back to his front.

"Me being your first. I swear I didn't plan it. We really did want you to respect yourself and we were just trying to protect you, but now that I've had you, I can't say I'm sorry."

I smiled slightly at that. "I can't really either. Not that I agree with your bullshit double standards, but so many girls regret their first time. I know I'll never regret this. When I think of some of the disasters I've heard of for first times, I guess this was pretty good."

I could practically feel his grin at that. "So I'm only good compared to a disaster, eh?"

"You know what I mean, loser." I rocked my ass back into him. "Where's your other half, by the way?" I asked.

"He went to stay at Ashley's. No work today or tomorrow, so they figured on having a nice, long weekend fuckfest," Tyler answered, toying with my fingers and nuzzling my hair. I glanced at the clock. Just after ten. Mom and Dad would be out for their Saturday golfing then lunch.

"Well, I'm gonna go take a shower," I said, sliding out from under Ty's arm and reaching for my nightshirt, which had been abandoned on the floor. 

"Shower sounds good. I'll come with you." He leered as I slipped on my nightshirt. Or tried to leer. He really looked much too cute to come off as overly lecherous.

I padded into the bathroom with Ty following sans clothing after me. I felt a little shy but also very excited at the prospect of being naked in front of my brother with nothing to obscure his view. As I reached over to turn on the faucets, I jerked as I felt a hand slip between my legs. 

"I realize you probably don't have the same problem, but I, for one, am sore as hell," I said wryly, turning to look at him over my shoulder as I straightened and reached for the hem of my nightie.

He smirked. "Wore you out, eh?"

I rolled my eyes at his preening tone. "You're a moron," I said as I stepped into the shower. I stood under the hot spray, facing into it, and felt it soak into my hair and skin, refreshing my tired body.

Strong arms wrapped around me from behind and I leaned back into my brother's embrace. It was strange. I had no feelings of disgust or remorse, nor of any especially perverted enjoyment of breaking taboo (although, I'd have to admit that it did turn me on a bit.), but I hadn't separated him into two people, as you so often see the guilty try to do. 

I'd once seen a talk show where they interviewed several incestuous couples who were carrying on like normal married couples, and I'd noticed they seemed to try to forget their blood ties and focus purely on their romantic attachment. 

This was my brother, and it simply made sense that I could love him as a brother and a lover. He was family. He was the taker of my virginity. How could I help but love him in both ways?

One arm left me to reach for the soap. I stood and watched in fascination as Ty rubbed the soap between both hands, placed it within reach on a ledge in the shower, then began soaping up my breasts, pausing his leisurely cleansing to roll and tug on my nipples. 

His knee had found its way between my legs and he nudged them apart slightly. He gathered more soap on his hands and one soapy hand trailed its way down my stomach while the other cupped and kneaded my breast. 

I couldn't get enough of his touch. I had been ridden hard and I was sore, and I should have been apprehensive about being touched there again so soon, but it seemed my brother's hand was all I wanted. I felt a slight stinging as his slick fingers parted me and began playing in my folds, but that was soon replaced by unmitigated arousal.

His lips found my ear, and he dipped his tongue inside, causing my hips to find a rocking rhythm, back and forth. His lips moved along my neck, placing open-mouthed kisses, and I felt his hardening cock jutting against my rear, where it naturally sought to rest between my ass cheeks, as if knowing that was its rightful place. One long finger slipped inside me, and his hand cupped over my mound. A second joined the first and I moaned as I turned my head to find his lips.




Worth Waiting For



Tyler grinned against my lips and gave me a peck, instead of the open-mouthed, tonguing kiss I'd expected.

"Better stop, or we'll not only not get cleaned up, we'll also end up ripping you open when I jam my cock into you," he said, placing a kiss on my temple.

Disappointment ripped through me as Ty withdrew his fingers. He spun me around to face him and held two glistening fingers in front of my face. Hot water beat against my back and I felt the spray on the sensitized side of my neck he'd been sucking on. I looked at the fingers, then him in question. 

"Clean them off, Lissie," he said softly.

I shivered. I had done this in the privacy of my own room many times, absentmindedly cleaning the juices off my own fingers, but this brought it to a new level of eroticism.

I leaned forward, my gaze trained on his, and enveloped his fingers in my mouth. His eyes hooded as he watched me sucking and tonguing the fingers he'd been pushing inside me. I delved my tongue between his fingers, and drew it up the insides of them, cleaning them thoroughly up to the tips before releasing with a gentle suction and dropping a kiss on his fingertips.

Tyler reached out and yanked me to him, forcing open my mouth and shooting his tongue inside to find and conquer mine. His erection lay hot against my tummy and seemed to brand me with its mark. I didn't mind at all the concept of being owned by my brother and moaned my pleasure into his mouth. Finally, he drew away.

"Turn."

I turned, puzzled by the abrupt change in him. I heard a shampoo cap flip open and then felt his fingers working the shampoo into my scalp. Washing my own hair had never felt so sensual. It seemed Tyler could take anything I did normally and infuse it with sensuality. 

I was surprised by his gentleness as he tilted my head back, shielded my eyes and rinsed out my hair. I turned back and switched him places, washing his hair as he had mine, then taking the soap and washing his body.

When I came to his cock, which had not lessened in stature for all our comparatively mundane activities of the last few minutes, I tentatively grasped it with soapy hands and began cleaning it how I thought one might. I slid my hands along his length, the pulled back the foreskin and stroked a soaped up hand along the sensitive flesh underneath.

"That's enough," he said as he caught my wrists and pulled my hands away. He tried to give me a careless grin, but it was belied by the feral look in his eye. "I have plans for today, so we're both gonna rest for a bit and get our strength up."

I shrugged off my disappointment and stepped out of the shower, reaching for a towel. We dried off as we headed back to our respective rooms to dress. I wondered what it was Tyler had in mind for today. Most of my friends had already had sex and I, of course, read Cosmo, so I could imagine, without the benefit of practical experience, the kind of things we were to do. 

When I arrived in the kitchen, Ty was already there. Eggs, milk, and a package of bacon sat on the counter, and Tyler was yanking a skillet off one of the hooks above the kitchen island.

When he saw me, he grinned his devastating grin. "Since you were such a good lay, I decided to make you breakfast."

I shook my head and rolled my eyes. "Well, get to work then, woman." 

As Ty began bustling around, making breakfast, I went over the events of the previous night and that morning in my head, and a thought occurred to me. I nibbled on my lower lip, pondering whether I should talk to Tyler about it. I decided to bite the bullet and speak.

"I'm not on the pill."

Tyler stilled for an instant, but quickly returned to bustling.

"Yeah, I figured that."

My brows drew together. "You figured that, but you came inside me twice?"

"We'll go down to the clinic and get you the morning-after pill." 

"Oh." I hadn't thought of that. "Okay."

He glanced over his shoulder at me and smiled. "You don't sound all that relieved... You wanna have my babies, Lissie?"

"Don't be an ass," I snapped, but I'd felt something inside me jump at his words. Did I want to have my brother's babies?

He just grinned knowingly and returned to tending the sizzling bacon. He quickly made a mix for scrambled eggs and moved the bacon over to allow room. The smells of our breakfast permeated the air and my stomach rumbled in anticipation.

I don't know if I'd really been expecting it to be awkward, being together outside of a sexual context for the first time since I'd lost my virginity to him the night before, but Tyler was so casual and jocular that any worries were quickly put out of my mind. As we ate, we enjoyed the comfort we'd always had as brother and sister, minus the tension of our disagreement on that one volatile subject that had ruined so many meals.

After we finished eating, I began gathering up the dishes and running hot water into the sink. Tyler disappeared upstairs for a minute, then reappeared in the doorway of the kitchen, holding a CD-ROM on one finger. 

I shut off the water and put the dishes in to soak. "What's that?" I asked, nodding to the disc.

"Come to the living room, and I'll show you," he said, walking to the living room and starting up the DVD player, me trailing after him. "I got this off the internet a couple of days after you got into bed with me that one time." Again, no need to distinguish which time was meant.

He grabbed the remote and pulled me over to the couch to sit with him. I made myself comfortable in the corner of our sofa, propping my back against a cushion. Ty grabbed my leg and pulled it up and over, settling himself between my legs, resting his back against me to watch his movie.

He pressed play and the screen turned black, then a pixilated image of a girl sitting on a bed in an overly flowery room came on screen. Her face was cherubic and framed by blonde curls, she wore a gauzy floral print dress and she smiled at someone behind the camera. She looked to be eighteen or nineteen, but her young face could have belonged to someone younger than that or belied someone a few years older.

A guy, looking older than the girl by a few years, stepped out from behind the camera and plopped down on the bed beside the girl. He was wearing a T-shirt and jeans, showcasing his muscular body. Where she was all softness and golden blonde, he was all hardness with dark brown hair and dark brown eyes. He had the look of someone who worked hard with his back for a living. Even his face was all solid, sculpted planes, contrasting sharply with the baby-faced girl he had his arm around.

The girl turned her smile on the camera as she began to speak, her voice a smooth-as-honey Texan drawl, "Hi, there. My name's Angie and this is my brother, Dylan." I glanced at Tyler questioningly, but his back was to me, and his head tilted toward the TV, attention focused. "We figure if y'all have come to this site, you're into what we're into, so we're not in any danger of you runnin' and callin' the authorities on us."

Dylan's fingers were stroking up and down Angie's side lightly, and her eyes twinkled mischievously. Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "See, me and my brother here, we like to fuck. I lost my virginity to him and I've never wanted any other man. I let him fuck me any way he likes, and he likes a lot of different ways."

Dylan's hand now kneaded his sister's side, evidence of the effect of her words, not just on their audience, but on him, as well. 

"We fuck when our parents are downstairs," she continued, "and we've fucked in public. Nearly got caught a couple of times, too." She grinned, and even her stern-faced brother seemed on the verge of smiling at her playful commentary. "But what we really wanted to do now was put somethin' out there for the people who want to see it. 'Cause it turns my brother on to know that there's people out there payin' to see us and knowin' that he's ownin' his baby sister, and it turns me on to know that I'm makin' my big brother happy. So, enjoy the show." With that, Angie winked, and moved to sit in the space between her brother's widespread legs, still facing the camera, and allowing him to divest her of her dress.

I couldn't believe what was happening on screen. I had seen porn before, but never porn like this. A brother and sister... I was incredulous. Could they really be siblings? Surely it was just a script. But Angie hadn't seemed the typical porn-star, woodenly reciting asinine dialogue. Her eyes had sparkled with real mischief. Not to mention her B-cup breasts were actually real.

I was riveted to the screen as Dylan began kissing his sister's neck, pulling her curls to the side to grant himself access. I remember thinking that I'd bet her skin would taste kind of sweet, just to go with her sweet face and voice.

His hands cupped her breasts, and I imagined that he was a construction worker or something, and his fingers would be very rough on her soft skin. Angie's nipples tightened into erect little peaks, and her head lolled back against her brother's shoulder.

One of his hands slipped between her legs, and I stirred restlessly against my own brother. I felt heat pooling between my legs as I watched Dylan slide his knees under his sister's legs and spread them apart. His fingers spread her open to the camera's view, then two plunged inside her.

"Getting horny, baby?" Tyler asked, amusement and arousal mixed in his voice.

I hadn't noticed I was subconsciously rubbing my crotch against Ty's back. I stilled instantly, but felt my clit ache in protest.

On the TV screen, Angie grasped her brother's hands and pulled them away from her body. She slid down to the floor and knelt between his legs, unzipping his pants and pulling his cock out. I knew what she was going to do before she did it, but I still felt my pussy spasm as I watched this beautiful, angelic-looking girl engulf her brother's cock in her mouth. He leaned back, weight resting on his hands, and watched his sister with a look on his face that could indicate either barely controlled fury or barely controlled passion. This Dylan was a very intense guy...

As Angie's curly blonde head bobbed up and down and the sounds of cock sucking filled the room thanks to our surround sound system, I felt Tyler stir in front of me. He began rubbing his hands along the sides of my legs, and I knew he enjoyed the display, even after viewing it before, as much as I was enjoying it for the first time.

Suddenly, a gravelly voice spoke. "Stop. I don't want to come yet." Dylan was pulling Angie's head away and hauling her up by her curls to stand in front of him. Our view of Dylan was blocked momentarily by a full backside shot of his gorgeous sister. 

Dylan had apparently stood up, too, and he flung his sister on the bed, face first. 

"Get on your knees," he ordered her, no love evident in his harsh voice. However, his sister did as she was told, presenting her ass to him in a way that had me both embarrassed for her and extremely excited at her subjugation by her own brother.

Dylan moved right behind her, giving the camera a sidelong view of the both of them. Dylan was rubbing the tip of his cock along Angie's slit, allowing for the first unobstructed view of his cock. My brother was big. Angie's brother was enormous. And, apparently, much less concerned with whether or not he hurt his sister than my brother was, as he grabbed a fistful of Angie's hair and slammed inside her in one swift motion.

Angie's raspy cry pierced the air and Tyler spun around so he was facing me, hard-as-steel cock pressed up into the valley between my legs. His glazed eyes bore into mine as he swooped in and began kissing me roughly. 

The sounds of Angie's and Dylan's fucking increased our frenzy as we tore off each other's clothes. Tyler grabbed a handful of my hair and bit my neck as he shoved himself inside me, fucking me like a madman. I tried to spread my legs further, but there was only so much room on the couch. Tyler took matters into his own hands, releasing my hair, grabbing my ankles, and hauling my legs up over his shoulders. 

I moaned and thrashed, and my own sounds of yielding blended with those of the sweet-looking girl on the TV screen whose brother was pounding the shit out of her. 

Tyler was in almost as deep as he had been in the morning, but from a different angle. Our arousal had climbed to epic proportions from watching the brother and sister play on screen, and I could feel both of us reaching our orgasm. I was so close, pussy clasping on my brother's plunging cock, when he suddenly drove inside to the tip of my womb and erupted hot cum. I tried, but couldn't follow fast enough, and was left there teetering on the brink as he collapsed on me.

After only a moment, he raised his head and looked down at me in question. "You didn't come yet, did you?"

I shook my head.

"Let me help," he said, slightly lifting off me. I felt the mixture of our cum seeping out of me, but Ty caught it before a drop could hit the couch. 

"Open your mouth," he said, not in the despotic tone Dylan had used on his sister, but not in a tone that brooked any argument, either. I opened my mouth.

As I received the mixture into my mouth, I couldn't look away from Tyler. His eyes still had a slightly crazed gleam in them, so intense I looked away. The TV screen caught my eye and I suddenly understood that since he'd found this video of Angie and Dylan on the internet, he'd dreamt of dominating me. Of telling me to get on my knees and having me obey without question. Of feeding me the cum that had pooled out of me after he fucked me and came inside me, just as I could now see Dylan doing to Angie on screen.

It tasted good. Salty, sweet, and sinful all at once. I swallowed it down. 

"Good girl," he said, then slid down between my legs. His mouth latched onto my clit and began suckling like a starving infant at the nipple. I was still teetering on the edge, then he violently slammed two fingers inside of me and I came with the force of a rocket, nearly ripping out hair as I clutched his head to me.

He looked up as I released his hair, and grinned at me. "Better?"

"Yes..." I said, my normal confidence deserting me in the face of his total control over me. What did one say in a situation like this? "Thank you," I said, flustered and amazed at my newfound shyness.

He burst out laughing and laid his head on my tummy. "No problem, baby girl. It was my pleasure."

Just as we were getting dressed, we heard a car pulling up in the driveway, and we frantically dressed. Tyler yanked the disc out of the DVD player and ran upstairs to return it to his room, while I flopped back down on the couch, pretending to be engrossed in MTV as my parents came in to greet me. 

While I exchanged pleasantries with them, I wondered if they could smell my brother's scent on me. If he had, perhaps, marked me as his like an animal might. Pondering his sperm swimming around in my womb, I touched a hand to my belly.

If my parents knew, subconsciously or otherwise, that something was amiss with Tyler and I, they gave no indication of it and the house returned to being a normal abode of vanilla family activity, leaving no trace of the den of iniquity it had been earlier that day.

Tyler and I managed to be together again that night after our parents went to bed, but we parted quickly to ensure that we didn't fall asleep sated and wake up busted. 

Ryan returned the next day, and Tyler and my opportunities to be together became even more limited. For the following week, we continued our clandestine interludes, only managing to pack in four by Friday. We tried a couple of new positions, and I tried giving Tyler a blowjob once, but felt disheartened when I could barely fit him in my mouth and nicked him with my teeth. I resolved to do better next time. 

I also watched Ryan with increased intensity that week, imagining being fucked by both of my brothers. I broached the topic with Tyler in a very non-direct, virginal type of way, but although he was very reactive, I couldn't tell whether his reaction was positive or not. When I hinted that they'd fucked girls together before and I'd bet those girls had enjoyed it, he simply grunted and looked away, appearing deep in thought.

Finally, Saturday rolled around. We decided not to chance another sleepover on Friday, even though Ryan had gone to Ashley's for the weekend again and our parents hadn't opened either of our doors without asking since we'd hit puberty. It just seemed that we should practice caution if we planned to continue our sexual relationship.

I woke up to find Ty's lips on mine, and a hand on my breast, massaging it.

"Morning, sleepyhead," he said, moving from my breast to my tummy, rubbing it in lazy circles.

I smiled and stretched languidly. "Morning. What time is it?"

"Ten-thirty. I've been up for two hours waiting to jump your bones." 

I grinned, looking down at his naked body, erection sticking straight out. "Obviously. Well, you can jump away, right after I go to the bathroom." I shoved him off and ran to the bathroom, quickly shutting and locking the door.

I did my business quickly, tried to stop the running toilet to no avail (oh well, let Dad fix it), washed my hands and face, rinsed out my mouth quickly and headed out, only to walk right into Tyler in the hallway. Now wearing a pair of Wiley Coyote boxers, he caught me by the arms and grinned.

"Where's the fire, Lissie?"

Tyler had been encouraging me to talk dirty to him all week, trying to coax out naughty words while we fucked; I had been working up the nerve to say something very daring, and here was my perfect opportunity. I leaned close and rose up on tiptoe to whisper in his ear, "How 'bout I let you try to find it, and if you do, you can put it out with your tongue..." I tried for seductive, but my voice came out a little breathy.

I leaned back to study his face, which was absolutely stunned. The only sound in the hallway was the running of the toilet behind the semi-closed bathroom door. I looked down at Tyler's boxers, however, and saw something stirring, which gave me hope that I had some promise in the dirty talking department.

I grinned at the Wiley boxers, and hooked a finger in the waistband. "These are cute, by the way, but I like you better without them." He stood stock-still as I breathed into his ear, "Plus, I thought I could try giving you a blowjob again today. I bet you I could fit it in my mouth this time." I smiled sheepishly and ducked my head down. "I've been practicing with a cucumber since that last time."

He was still speechless, but he now had a raging hard on, which I chose to take as consent. I hooked my fingers in the waistband of his boxers and pulled them down, freeing his erection. 

I dropped to my knees, holding him gently by the hips. Precum leaked from the tip of his cock, proof positive that he wanted my mouth on him, and I gave his tip an open mouthed kiss. It was hot and tangy, and I knew I would never be one of those girls who spits out her lover's semen. I wanted his cum in my mouth and sliding down my throat.

I opened my mouth wide and slid down to his base. I felt a thrill run through me; this time I had really done it. I gave an experimental suck before drawing back up to the tip and licking him. He closed his eyes and groaned, and I felt my power over him for the first time. 

I devoured him. Bobbing my head, licking, sucking, and stuffing his cock into the back of my throat. 

"I don't know if I should be pissed off or turned on."

I jerked my head back and released my brother's cock with a pop. Ryan's cock. I looked at a still-nude Tyler first, his negligent pose against the doorway of my room belying the tension radiating from him. Then I looked up at Ryan, who was yanking up his boxers and jerking his head back and forth between us, with an incredulous look on his face.




Worth Waiting For



"You guys are..." he started, words failing him.

"Yeah," Tyler said simply. "Thought you were s'posed to be at Ashley's for the weekend?"

"We had a fight late last night and I came home and passed out. I was just getting up to go the bathroom..." Ryan now had trouble looking at me.

Silence ensued for a moment before Tyler broke it again. "Get up, Alyssa."

I flushed, realizing I was still on my knees before my brother who I'd just inadvertently informed about my incestuous relationship with his twin by giving him a blowjob. I jumped up, completely mortified now, but still a little turned on. 

Ryan lifted his eyes from the floor to stare at me. Finally, he spoke. "You know, I kind of expected this to happen since that time at Golden Gloves, and sometimes I even thought it had already happened, but there's a difference between knowing and really knowing, you know?"

I nodded nervously. "So now that you know, what are you going to do?"

Ryan didn't seem to know, but his eyes did a quick up-down of my body.

"He's gonna fuck you, aren't you, Ry?" I looked over to see Tyler smirking at Ryan. "Lissie, take off your nightie."

"NO!" I cried, looking back at Ryan to see what he thought of this.

"What the fuck do you mean, 'No'? You're the one that wanted to fuck both of us at once," Tyler said, a mixture of lust and jealousy evident in his voice.

Ryan was swallowing, looking from my nightshirt to my face and back again.

"She's tight, Ry. And she loves to fuck. Can't get enough," Tyler said in a low voice, moving forward to stand beside his twin.

"She's our sister..." Ryan said, still looking somewhat south of my throat.

"Who gives a shit? You know you want to, and I am already, so you may as well. How was that blowjob, Ry?" Tyler asked in an enticing tone, taking on the role of Devil's advocate. "Looked like it was good. Couple of days ago, she could barely fit my cock in her mouth."

"It was good," Ryan said absentmindedly, still infuriatingly indecisive.

"Take off your nightshirt, Lissie," Tyler repeated, looking at me. His eyes had a glint that was difficult to interpret. 

My hands trembled as I pulled my nightshirt up and over my head. 

Ryan reached out a hesitant hand to touch me, and I stepped into it, needing reassurance, if only physical. His hand cupped a breast, lifting and testing the weight, rolling the nipple between thumb and forefinger. I reached up and clasped my arms around his neck, standing on tiptoe to kiss him. 

Ryan's hands found their way to my ass and he lifted me, seemingly without effort. I wrapped my legs around him and plunged my tongue into his mouth.

"Bring her in the bedroom," Tyler ordered, heading toward our parents' room. Ryan followed and I shivered in his arms.

I was so incredibly nervous about this whole thing now, but so incredibly turned on. I could feel my juice sinking into Ryan's boxers and his erection pressing into my notch. I shifted and rubbed myself on it, before being deposited on our parents' large bed.

I looked up at my brothers and shivered. I had heard of ways two guys could have sex with one girl at once, and I wondered how they would take me. 

Ryan, no longer an idle party in this, shoved down his boxers and guided my lips back to his cock. As I slid my mouth down to the base of his twin's cock, Tyler sat beside me and pulled my leg over his, spreading me open to his touch. 

"Fuck, she's soaking wet, Ry." Two fingers plunged inside me, followed by a third trying to wiggle in. I moaned my displeasure around Ryan's cock, but he kept me in place with a hand fisted in my hair, fucking my mouth while his brother tried to stretch me further than I could go.

"Get on your knees, Lissie," Tyler said. Ryan released my hair and gave my shoulders a gentle shove. I complied with the instructions, but glared mutinously at Tyler for his imperious tone of voice, all the while growing wetter at his domination of me.

Tyler grinned and took up position in front of me, feet planted on the floor, cock at mouth level. "Open up, baby girl." He grabbed my hair, and, as I opened my mouth to protest, shoved his cock in my mouth. 

I tried to pull back, but felt his hands tighten in my hair. Then I felt fingers probing at the back of me. My nervousness battled with my arousal and I tried to yank my head up, but it was being held down by a guy who could literally bench-press me if he wanted to. I tried to put my ass down, feeling shy at the thought of being so open to Ryan's inspection, but a hard arm locked around my waist and hauled me back up.

Fingers played in and about my slit, spreading my wetness around, rubbing my clit. Then they were gone. As Tyler fucked my mouth, Ryan pushed in from behind, and I soon had a brother at each end of me, stuffing me full of cock.

I heard a groan from behind me. "Man, she's so tight.."

His words excited me and I jerked my hips back against him. 

Tyler chuckled. "Liking it now, are we? Give it to her, Ry."

With no warning other than that, Ryan gripped my hips and started hard, slamming strokes. My face was forced to the base of Tyler's cock and I nearly choked before I remembered to breathe through my nose.

I felt so full. Skewered on cock. Conquered by their physical strength and sheer mastery of my body. And I loved it. 

My pussy clamped and unclamped. I came once. The hard strokes continued. My g-spot felt almost raw from the friction. I came again, this time spraying the liquid first one brother, then the other, had made erupt. 

I looked up at Tyler, who was sawing in and out of my mouth with ferocity. I struggled to suck and lick while he set the pace. Then I saw him glance at Ryan and grin. He pulled out of my mouth and Ryan pulled out of my pussy, which clasped on air in desperation upon suddenly being empty. 

Suddenly, I was being pulled astride Ryan and lowered onto his cock. He pulled me down for a kiss, but when I tried to lean back up, he didn't release me. I laid there, draped over him, and then I felt Tyler's fingers. He was taking my wetness and spreading it around my anus.

I squirmed under his ministrations, but he just smacked my ass and told me to be a good girl. Then, a finger pushed against my tight hole.

"Relax, baby. Just let it go in," Tyler crooned. Ryan kissed me and stroked my hair. I felt the tension leave my body and then a finger worked its way into my ass. 

I moaned and stirred on Ryan's dick, enjoying the feeling of the double penetration. Or, at least, I did enjoy it until Tyler started working a second finger in.

I tore my mouth away from Ryan's, but couldn't get up for the arm like an iron band over my back. "It hurts!"

"So relax, Lissie. Move around on Ry's cock a bit. That'll make you forget about it. Then it'll feel good. Scout's honor," Tyler said, continuing to press the second finger in.

Tears welled in my eyes, but I made slight up and down movements on Ryan nonetheless. I had fantasized about this, but in my fantasies, my ass welcomed the penetration, not felt like it was going to rip open.

I tilted my pelvis and rubbed my clit on Ryan's pubic bone, and, like magic, the pain began to fade. I relaxed, my ass opened, and my brother had two fingers in me. He withdrew them slowly, then scooped up more of my natural lubricant.

I felt the wet head of Tyler's cock pressing against me. I continued rubbing my clit against Ryan, but it couldn't eliminate all the pain of being stretched in such a way. It seemed like an eternity before I felt the head slip in, the shaft slowly working its way inside me; it was even longer before he bottomed out.

I was shaking like a leaf and pouring wetness like a river around Ryan's cock. Then they started moving. Like synchronized swimmers, it was clear they'd had much practice together. Ryan spread my legs wide and surged up into me, while Tyler stroked long and deep into my ass.

It felt almost like there was no barrier between their cocks. Like they were right there, simultaneously sliding into me, rubbing right against each other. I'd thought I felt full with one at each end, but this invasion went worlds beyond that.

I felt a frenzy stir up inside me, and I began my own movements to try and rock back on their cocks. They were no longer calm and collected, and my movements and clasping channels drove them as out of control as they had driven me.

One brother pounding into each hole, I cried out and came, my orgasm running through my body completely, taking me over. It seemed to go on forever and tears filled my eyes, then I felt them both begin to blast semen inside me, and, with one last spasm, I collapsed on top of Ryan. Ryan's arms encircled me as he drove up into me as his twin bore down, each squeezing out their last drops of fluid into their baby sister.

Tyler rested half his weight on me before pulling out and collapsing beside us, flinging one arm up over his sweat-soaked forehead. "Holy shit!" he exclaimed. 

"No kidding," Ryan groaned.

I concurred.

Ryan turned his head and kissed me softly on the lips. "How'd you like it, baby?"

"It was amazing. I'm guessing you guys have done that lots.."

They both chuckled. 

"Yeah," Ryan said.

Tyler turned on his side and faced me, concern lighting his eyes. "We weren't too rough with you, were we? I mean, I thought that's what you wanted, but I didn't want to hurt you..."

I grinned. "No, it was amazing. The pain kinda contrasted with the pleasure," I told him, marveling at how someone who could subjugate me so totally could also care so deeply for me and my welfare and my enjoyment of our activities. Ryan hugged me tight with one arm and began stroking my hair with his other hand.

I still thought their double-standards were archaic, but I had to admit I didn't know any girl who'd had an introduction to sex as good as mine.

I knew girls who'd lost their virginity to guys who invested time and empty flattery, then took what they wanted and dumped the girl. I also knew girls whose first times had been so awkward and unsatisfying that they had lost all interest in sex. I even knew one girl who'd found out the day after that the guy had bet his friends money that he'd get her to put out. Those cases were more extreme examples of what could happen; most girls I knew simply had mediocre first-times with their mediocre boyfriends and went on to have more mediocre sex with them until they eventually broke up.

None of those things happened to me. My first lovers were almost ridiculously competent, and considerate, if a little rough, and loving. I wondered how many women could claim that. 

I had thought before that there was no escaping a mediocre, at best, first time and that I'd be better off getting started and trying on men like shoes: I was wrong.

My first time, and my subsequent relationship with my brothers, had definitely been worth waiting for.



Worth Waiting For



Julie smiled from behind her coffee.

"What?" Craig enquired.

"Oh, nothing," Julie replied, barely suppressing a giggle.

"It must be something."

"Oh, all right then. It's just... It's just that we're actually here. I mean after all these months and all the times we could've done something but didn't, and now, well, now we're here and..."

"And?"

"And there's absolutely no bloody way I'm going to be satisfied with just a coffee tonight, mister."

"I see," Craig replied. "So just what is it going to take to satisfy you?" he asked with a slightly mocking grin.

"Well, first I'm going to finish this coffee and then..." Julie's voice trailed off. She leaned towards Craig before continuing in a quieter voice, "And then, you're going to take me to your room where I'm going to give that lovely cock of yours a damned good sucking until you cum down my throat, then, while it's recovering, you're going to eat my pussy until you're hard enough to give me the fucking I've been waiting for since the first time we met."

"Phew!" Craig sighed. "Is that all?"

"It'll do," Julie replied, "for starters, anyway."

Craig laughed. "That's more like it. I thought you were going to let me off lightly there for a moment."

"No danger of that! Not when I've waited this long." Her voice dropped to little more than a whisper. "If it wasn't so busy in here, I'd get under the table and suck you off right now. Just sitting here thinking about what we're going to do has got me soooo wet."

"Now, that's the Julie I've come to know and love," Craig replied, smiling broadly.

Julie stuck her tongue out then winked. Raising her coffee to he lips, she drained the remains of her drink. "Shall we go now?" she asked, placing her empty cup down on the table.

"I suppose we could," Craig replied coyly, "unless you want another of those first?"

Julie shook her head. "I think you've probably bought me enough coffees in the time that we've known each other. And besides, you can always get me one later." Her voice dropped to little more than a whisper again. "Right now, all I want is for you to <i>give me one!</i>"

Craig laughed. "I should've known you'd say something like that." He stood up and nodded towards the exit. "OK then, let's go."

"Well, finally!" Julie teased, attaching herself to him as they walked towards the door.

As they took the short walk through the lobby from the café to Craig's room, Julie could hardly contain herself. They had known each other for almost two years and, despite the difference in their ages, a genuine friendship had quickly developed between them; a friendship that, while charged with more than a little sexual frisson, had always remained platonic. Julie had made it plain on any number of occasions that she'd be happy to let things go further. She wasn't looking for an actual relationship; she didn't really do 'proper relationships'. What she wanted was more along the lines of 'friends with benefits'. Craig, while always willing to join in with the outrageous flirting, had however, always managed to delicately deflect her far from subtle advances.

Julie had often wondered about that but had long given up letting it bother her. She had grown to accept the fact that the age gap made anything more between them unlikely. She had been in her final year at high-school when they had first got to know each other and she suspected that Craig had felt it would have been highly inappropriate for him to have 'carried on' with her while she'd still been at school, regardless of the fact that, even then, she had been anything but inexperienced. Despite that, she had never given up on her attempts to snare him and now, a couple of years older and on vacation from University, it looked like she had finally succeeded.

Julie suppressed a shudder of anticipation as they reached the door to Craig's room.

"Here we are then," Craig announced as he opened the door, gesturing for her to enter.

"Finally," Julie sighed as she stepped into the room.

Craig followed, shutting the door behind him. He turned and suddenly Julie was in his arms, pulling his head down towards hers. Their lips met as Julie pressed her body firmly against his. "God, it feels good to have you there against me at last," she breathed before kissing him again.

As they kissed, their hands explored each others' bodies through their clothes. Julie was suitably impressed by Craig's taut, well muscled frame. As she slipped her tongue into Craig's mouth, Julie let her hand glide lightly over his groin. "Mmmm. That feels encouraging," she murmured, feeling his cock stiffen within its confinement.

With their lips pressed firmly together, Julie began to loosen Craig's belt. With that done, she began the task of unbuttoning his jeans. Slipping her hand down inside, she touched Craig's cock for the first time. "I'm really looking forward to finally getting to know this part of you," she purred, licking her lips as her fingers circled his shaft and began to gently stroke its length. "I'd say he's looking forward to it too, by the feel of things," she added dreamily as his cock stiffened in her hand.

"You know, I do think you might just be right there," Craig replied, somehow managing to keep his face straight and his voice level.

"Well then, we'd best not keep him waiting then, should we?"

"No. I guess not," Craig replied, a note of feigned resignation in his voice.

"Oh for fuck's sake, try and sound a wee bit more enthusiastic!" Julie demanded.

Craig smiled then kissed her. "Sorry. Just teasing."

He held out his hand. Julie took it in hers and let herself be guided towards the bed. Seconds later they were kissing again. Julie's hands worked their way inside Craig's jeans and shorts and began pushing them down, over his hips. As Craig kicked off his shoes, Julie pushed him towards the bed. "Sit down and make yourself comfortable," she purred.

Craig complied with Julie's request. Julie quickly knelt down in front of him, removing his jeans, shorts and socks before moving between his legs.

"My, my. Aren't you a big boy?" she asked coyly, taking his cock in her hand and beginning to stroke it.

"Glad you approve," Craig replied.

"Oh believe me, I most certainly do."

With that, Julie leaned forward and lightly kissed the tip of Craig's cock. Craig sighed and squirmed slightly. Julie smiled then began planting kisses all along his shaft, working her way along its top and then back along its underside. "You like?" she asked, affecting her most innocent, little girl voice.

"Oh yes," Craig replied, nodding emphatically.

"Good."

Julie returned her attention to Craig's cock, this time using her tongue as well as her lips as her fingertips gently teased his balls. Craig moaned encouragingly as Julie's tongue worked its way over his shaft, coating it with a warm film of saliva. "Oh, fuck," he groaned as she sucked lightly on his balls.

Pleased at the response to her slow teasing, Julie decided it was time to up the ante. Pausing briefly to lick her lips, Julie took the head of Craig's cock into her mouth and began to suck. "Christ, Julie, that's good," he sighed as she began to work her lips along his length, drawing his cock slowly deeper into her mouth until the head lodged in the back of her throat. He groaned again as she swallowed, tightening her throat around the head.

Having been complimented by any number of men in the past, Julie had no doubts about her cock-sucking ability. Despite that, she was reassured by Craig's moans, groans and encouraging comments. She loved sucking cocks and knowing that the recipient was enjoying her attentions was a huge turn-on.

As her lips slid up and down Craig's cock, Julie undid her top. Craig reached forward, helping her to remove it. Still sucking, Julie reached behind her back to undo her bra. As she drew his cock deep into her mouth, she slid the straps down off her shoulders. Her bra fell to the floor, revealing her large, firm breasts. Craig reached forward to cup and caress them, teasing Julie's nipples with his thumbs as she feasted hungrily on his cock.

"Do you like my tits?" Julie asked.

"Silly question," replied Craig, grinning, "of course I do."

"Would you like me to fuck you with them?"

"Even sillier question." Craig's grin grew wider.

Julie stuck her tongue out at him then took the head of his cock into her mouth once more and gave it one last, long, hard suck before slipping it from between her lips and using her tongue to coat his shaft with saliva.

Leaning forward, Julie nestled his cock between her breasts. As she pressed them together, encircling his shaft, she swirled her tongue around his knob, lightly flicking the slit at its tip.

"Fuck, Julie! That feels good!" Craig groaned as she began to work his cock back and forth along her cleavage.

"Mmmm, glad you like it," Julie replied dreamily, pinching her nipples as she pressed her breasts firmly together, gripping his cock tightly between them.

As she wanked Craig's cock between her breasts, Julie could feel herself getting wetter. She flicked her tongue over the head of his cock as it poked out from her deep cleavage. She longed to feel his thick, hard shaft plunging deep inside her pussy; but that would come later, and so would she. For now she was content to use her mouth and breasts to bring him off and was looking forward to being rewarded with a large mouthful of rich, thick cum for her efforts.

Craig could feel the tension mounting in his groin as Julie skilfully worked his cock. His hips were already beginning to move, thrusting his cock back and forth between her breasts as his climax slowly drew closer.

"Are you getting close?" Julie enquired sweetly.

"Y... Yeah. J... Just a bit!"

"Well, I hope you've got a nice big load to give me," she added, squashing her breasts even more firmly around his cock.

Craig managed a laugh. "I'll... I'll see w... what I can d... do."

Julie smiled. Rubbing him a little bit more, she licked away a dew-drop of pre-cum that oozed from his cock. "Mmmmmm," she purred, licking her lips, "I hope there's plenty more of that to cum!"

Knowing that Craig wouldn't be able to endure much more, Julie, freed his cock from the tight confinement of her cleavage. She stroked it gently for a few seconds then, wrapping her lips around its head, she sucked it deep into her mouth. She wasted no time getting into a rhythm, bobbing her head back and forward, sucking hard as she slid her lips along his hard length.

"Oh... Oh fuck, Julie!" Craig groaned as the pressure mounted. Grabbing her head, he began to thrust, fucking her mouth as she sucked and swallowed. 

The roughness of Craig's treatment, turned Julie on even more. She began to tease and squeeze his balls as he fucked her mouth harder and harder, forcing the head of his cock into the back of her throat, almost causing her to choke.

Almost at boiling point, Craig forced himself to hold on. "Get... Getting closer!" he gasped as the need to release became almost to strong to endure. 

Pulling her lips back, Julie wrapped her fingers around his shaft and began to rub. Her fingers blurred as she worked him closer and close to the point of release.

"Oh! Oh fuck, Julie! Oh fuck!" Craig moaned.

Julie could feel his cock begin to throb in her fingers; the head swelled in her mouth. She could sense him straining to hold back, trying desperately to prolong that exquisitely painful last moment before the inevitable eruption.

"Julie! Fuck! Julieeeeeee!" he cried.

The floodgates burst. His load surged up through his loins, bursting from his cock, flooding Julie's mouth.

"Aaahhhh!" he sighed, savouring the feeling of relief as he let go.

Julie swallowed hard, drinking down his cum as it pulsed into her mouth. As the initial torrent subsided, she let his cum gather on her tongue. Using her fingers, Julie milked Craig's cock, extracting every last drop of cum.

Finally, Julie let Craig's cock slip from between her lips. Opening her mouth, she poked out her tongue to display the load of thick white cum she'd collected before swallowing it down with obvious relish.

Julie licked her lips. "I enjoyed that," she said with aplomb. "Did you?"

"Do... Do you really need to ask?" Craig managed to gasp in response.

Julie laughed. "No. I guess not."

She stood up. Undoing her skirt, she let it fall to the floor, revealing her soft, smooth pussy. "Oh dear," she giggled, "I seem to have forgotten my knickers. I do hope you don't mind..."

Craig smiled. "No. Not at all."

"Correct answer," Julie replied as she climbed on to the bed and lay down beside him. She kissed him lightly on the cheek. "Now," she drawled, "why don't you get that shirt off? Then, once you've got your breath back, you can see about giving my pussy some much needed attention. I've been looking forward to finding out if that tongue of yours is as good as everyone says it is for a very long time."

Craig groaned as Julie began tugging at the buttons of his shirt. "You're a hard taskmaster, you know that?"

"You're the one that's going to need to be hard," Julie teased, giving Craig's cock a playful stroke as he shrugged himself out of his shirt and tossed it to the floor.

"How did I know you'd say something like that?"

"Great minds, I guess. Or something like that..."

"Yeah. That'll be it," Craig agreed.

"So, are you going to get on with it?" Julie asked coyly, "Or am I just going to have to die from pent up frustration?"

"Heartless wretch!" Craig teased, giving Julie a playful slap on her bum.

"Ow!! Watch it, you..." Whatever else she had been about to say was abruptly cut off as she found Craig's lips pressed firmly against hers once more.

As they kissed, Julie felt a tingle of anticipation run up her spine as Craig's hands began exploring her body. She moaned softly as his fingers gently traced the curves of her breasts before lightly working over her nipples. The anticipation grew as he began to work downwards, kissing her neck, her shoulders then, finally, her breasts.

"Mmmm, that's nice," Julie purred as Craig's tongue slid over the soft skin of her breasts. His lips fastened around one of her nipples; his tongue flicked its tip. "Ohhhhh, ahhhhh!" Julie sighed as he teased the other nipple with his fingers while sucking hard on the other, pinching it between his teeth.

As he feasted on Julie's breasts, Craig's fingers explored her body, seeking and finding the warm wet folds of her pussy. Julie squirmed in response to his touch. She moaned softly as he slid one, then two fingers into her, the walls of her pussy tightening around them.

"Oh fuck. I love that," Julie murmured as Craig pulled his fingers from her pussy and began spreading her juices over her nipples then licking them clean. Every so often, he'd lift his juice coated fingers to her mouth. Julie accepted them hungrily, licking and sucking them clean, savouring the taste of her own sweet essence. By the time Craig decided to leave her breasts and continue on his downward journey, Julie was already hovering on the brink of release.

Settling himself between Julie's outstretched legs, Craig paused briefly, drinking in the rich scent of her sex. Her soft, smooth labia were pink and flushed, glistening with her juices.

He slowly lowered his face towards her. Julie tensed. Craig's breath felt hot against her moist, sensitive folds.

Craig's tongue flicked out and ran along the length of her slit. "Ooh yes!" moaned Julie as Craig's tongue began its exploration of her pussy. His tongue darted in and out of her hot, wet hole and she squirmed with pleasure. "Mmmm, yesssss!" she cried out as his tongue lashed across her sensitive clit; and again as his lips fastened around it and he sucked it lightly into his mouth. 

Despite her deep arousal, Julie forced herself to relax as Craig's tongue lightly licked and probed. She knew she wouldn't be able to keep herself from cumming for very long but she was determined to hold off for as long as she could, savouring the sensations that Craig's skilful touch was eliciting.

Almost in spite of her resolve, Julie began to cup and squeeze her breasts as Craig's tongue lapped at her pussy. Pinching her nipples, she cried out as Craig slowly inserted two fingers into her. His tongue flicked over her clit as he pumped his fingers in and out. 

Julie felt her body begin to shudder as Craig's mouth drove her closer and closer to her impending climax. Tossing her head from side to side, she writhed with pleasure, moaning incoherently, fire coursing through her as Craig's tongue lashed her clit. As her breathing became increasingly laboured she closed her eyes and let the sensations take over. 

Craig teased her clit, licking then biting down lightly with his teeth. Julie's back arched. "Mmmmmaaaaah," she sighed as she slipped over the edge, surrendering herself to the waves of pleasure that washed over her. Craig slipped his fingers out of her pussy but his tongue continued to lap at her clit; each contact sending fresh spasms through Julie's body. 

"Fuck! Oh fuck! Ohhhh, that feels sooo good!" Julie cried as her body shook wildly.

Craig's tongue kept up its gentle pressure on her throbbing clit. "Ohh, ohhhh, oooohhhhh!!!" Julie sobbed as another series of powerful contractions gripped her.

"Should I stop for a bit and let you catch your breath?" Craig asked.

"I... I d... don't want you to, b... but I... I think, maybe you s... should," Julie admitted reluctantly.

Craig slid up beside her and gathered her into his arms. "God, that was wonderful," Julie purred, her body still shaking.

"Well, be sure to let me know when you're ready for some more."

"Oh, don't worry," Julie replied, "I most certainly will!"

They kissed. Julie savoured the taste of her juices on Craig's lips.

"Turn round," Craig said, "Let me give your back a rub."

Julie didn't hesitate. She sighed contentedly as Craig's strong but gentle hands worked on her neck, shoulders and back. A warm, dreamy lassitude threatened to overcome her as the tensions of her recent climactic release ebbed away under Craig's touch.

"That feels so nice," Julie sighed as Craig kissed and licked along her spine, starting at her neck and working his way down to the small of her back, his hands caressing her sides.

She rolled over. His hands explored her front, touching and teasing. His lips were everywhere; her neck, her breasts, her thighs, her cheeks; never lingering, always moving. Julie steadily became increasingly turned on again. She reached down and ran her fingers through his hair. "You know what?" she said softly, spreading her legs apart, "I think my pussy is ready for some more attention from your tongue."

"Mmmmm," Craig murmured. "I think I can cope with that," he added as he moved into position between her thighs.

"Good," Julie purred, bracing herself for the touch of his tongue.

Craig, leaned forward. He slid his tongue between Julie's moist, pink folds and worked his way slowly from her warm, wet entrance up to her clit. "Oooooooohhhhhh," sighed Julie, squirming with pleasure in response to Craig's touch. 

"Have I mentioned that you taste so good?" Craig asked.

"Do I?"

"Yes, you do!"

He curled his tongue into Julie's moist, warm depths once more, darting it rapidly in and out. Julie writhed on the bed, biting her lip as Craig took each of her labia between his lips and sucked them, running the tip of his tongue along their edge. His nose pressed briefly against her clit, sending a shiver up Julie's spine. 

"Fuck, Craig!" Julie exclaimed, as his tongue explored every fold of her pussy. "You're so good at that," she breathed, "If I didn't know, I'd swear another girl was eating me." 

Craig paused briefly. "I guess I should take that as a compliment, I suppose," he teased. 




Worth Waiting For



"Of course it's a compliment," Julie replied with aplomb, "Girls are almost always better than men when it comes to eating another girl's pussy." 

"Oh really?" enquired Craig, raising one eyebrow, "And just how many female lovers have you had to allow you to make such a sweeping statement?" 

Julie looked up and saw Craig's wide, hungry grin. 

She smiled back. "Enough," she said coyly. 

"Fair enough," Craig replied, his grin broadening.

"Well then, how's about you just accept the compliment and get back down to it?" Julie demanded. 

"Yes Ma'am," Craig replied before returning to his task. 

Craig lapped hungrily at Julie's pussy as her warm, rich juices flooded his mouth. Julie began to tease her nipples as his tongue grazed her clit. "Ohhhh fuck, yesssss! That's it! Lick me right there!" she demanded. 

Craig did as Julie requested, concentrating his attention on her clit, occasionally sucking it between his lips. "Ahhhhhh, mmmmmmm! Julie sighed as she tugged her nipples with her fingers, feeling the fire in her pussy begin to spread through her once again. 

Humming softly as he sucked on her clit, Craig slowly slid one finger into Julie's warm, wet pussy. After pumping it in and out briefly, he added a second, feeling Julie squirm as he twisted them around inside her. "Oh yes, Craig... that's it... don't stop..." Julie moaned as his fingers plunged into her depths, his tongue lashing her clit. 

Craig pulled his fingers from Julie's pussy and reached up to spread her juices over her nipple. "Ohhhh, I love that," Julie sighed, "it feels so dirty."

Julie could feel her orgasm approaching. She clutched at the covers with her fingers as she tried to hold back. Craig's tongue beat mercilessly on her throbbing clit, his fingers alternated between pumping rapidly in and out of her quivering pussy and spreading her juices over her breasts. 

Suddenly, she felt the tip of another finger press against her tight rear opening. Her arsehole yielded slightly as the tip worked its way in. 

That final touch was too much for Julie to bear. "Ooooooooohhhh fffuuuucccckkkkk!!!!!" she cried, throwing her head back to give voice to her release as her body began to thrash violently. 

Never slowing his pace, Craig continued to lap at Julie's clit. Spasms wracked her body every time he touched her. Her juices flooded into his mouth as she came. "Fuck... fuck... ooooohhhhh fffuuucccckkkkkk!!!!!" Julie cried, her body jerking, her head tossing from side to side as she rode the rising waves of her climax. 

Julie's heart pounded in her chest as her orgasm peaked again and again. With her eyes screwed tightly shut, she felt herself torn between conflicting desires, wanting to feel Craig's long, thick cock plunging forcefully into her pussy while not wanting the sensations she was experiencing to come to an end. She reached down and grabbed Craig's head, pulling it forward so that his tongue pressed even more firmly against her throbbing clit. The resulting sensations almost caused her to faint as her climax reached an intensity that she had seldom experienced before. The release was overpowering, pushing Julie beyond the brink of her endurance. 

"Fuck me, Craig!" she heard herself cry, "Stick your cock in my pussy and fuck me hard!" 

Almost at once, his tongue was gone. Julie felt a shiver of anticipation run through her as she prepared herself for what was to come next. 

When Julie opened her eyes she found Craig staring down at her. He smiled and with a single powerful lunge he thrust his cock deep into her pussy. "Fuck! Yesssssss!"' Julie responded with a lust filled groan as she brought her legs up, taking him deeper into her body. She rested her feet against his buttocks and clawed at his back with her fingers as he thrust his cock in and out. 

"Oooh yes, fuck me!" she cried as his cock plunged deep into her pussy. With every thrust she felt his balls slap against her. The walls of the pussy flexed, gripping his cock as it slid in and out with long, powerful strokes. 

"Harder!" she urged, "Fuck me harder! Oh yes! Oh Yes! Fuck me hard, mmmmm..." 

As Craig increased his pace Julie responded by digging her fingers into his arse cheeks, forcing him in deeper. She moved her hips so that they met every thrust at its deepest point, increasing the friction against her throbbing clit. 

"I... I want to get on top," Julie gasped as Craig pinned her to the bed with long, hard thrusts.

They rolled over. Supporting herself with her hands on his shoulders, Julie began riding, Craig's cock, sliding her pussy up and down along its length. "Your cock feels so good in me," she moaned, impaling herself on him. "I love the way it fills me."

Craig leaned forward. Cupping Julie's breasts in his hands, he pressed them together. His tongue flicked out over her nipples, cleaning away the traces of her juices that'd he'd spread over them earlier.

"Mmmmm, yesssss," Julie sighed, tightening her pussy's grip around Craig's cock, "lick my tits. Make them wet all over."

With Craig feasting on her breasts as she rode his cock, Julie reached down to play with her clit. Every now and then, she'd lift her fingers to her lips, sucking them into her mouth, tasting herself on them before returning them to her throbbing bulb. Beneath her, Craig's hips surged upwards, driving his cock into her as she flexed her pussy around it.

With every thrust; with every grind of her pelvis against his; with every touch of her fingers against her clit, Julie's arousal grew higher. Her moans and sobs of pleasure grew increasingly incoherent as her climax approached, suffusing her with a warm, tingling that spread outwards to her extremities.

As he licked and sucked on her breasts, Craig reached down with one hand. Sliding it over the smooth curve of Julie's bum, his fingers found the point where their bodies joined. "Ooooooh!" Julie giggled as his finger brushed against her swollen and sensitive lower lips. "Aaaahhhh, mmmmm," she sighed as a fingertip, coated with her juices pressed against the arsehole and worked its way in.

The combined sensations of Craig's tongue on her nipples, his cock in her pussy and his finger in her arse, sent Julie over the edge. "Oh... Oh fuck Craig! I... I'm cummmmmiiiiiiing!!!" she wailed as powerful contractions gripped her pussy and womb.

Violent spasms shook Julie's body. "Yessssss! Ohhhh fuck yessssss!" she cried as her orgasm took her.

Riding Craig's cock with increasing abandon, Julie ground her pelvis against his, increasing the friction on her throbbing clit. Her moans of pleasure grew louder as her climax peaked, subsided and peaked again and again. Closing her eyes, she tightened her pussy's grip on Craig's cock as the waves of her climax washed over her.

Drained by the intensity of her release, Julie slowly allowed her orgasm's energy to dissipate. Collapsing on top of Craig, she breathed huskily into his ear, "Get on top of me, Craig. Get on top, fuck me hard and fill my pussy with your cum."

They rolled over again, their bodies still joined. Craig could feel Julie's heart pounding against his chest. "Fuck that feels good," he groaned as Julie's pussy tightened around his cock. Too tired to speak, Julie simply smiled back at him as she flexed the walls of her pussy against his shaft.

Craig began to increase his pace, driving his cock into her with powerful strokes. As his cock slid in and out of Julie's warm, moist depths, he knew his own orgasm was getting closer.

"Oh fuck! Oh fuck! I... I can't hold on much longer!" Craig groaned, pounding Julie's pussy with increasing force.

"Screw me Craig! Screw me hard and fill me with your cum," Julie cried as her orgasm flared anew. Her pussy gripped Craig's cock even more tightly as it plunged into her. 

As Julie urged him on with her obscenities, Craig started to thrust harder and faster. As Julie pulled her legs back to take him deeper, he hooked his arms behind her knees, opening her up wide as he powered into her. He pulled his cock so far back that it almost slipped out before plunging it back in with all the force he could muster. In and out, over and over, his cock hammered at Julie's pussy as she urged him on. "Oh fuck, oh fuck, I'm almost there," he panted. 

"That's it, give it to me!" moaned Julie, "Give me you cum. I want to feel you explode inside me." 

With an animal like groan, Craig thrust hard, impaling her on his cock as another load of cum was unleashed. Julie closed her eyes and shuddered as she felt jet after jet of his sperm flood into her, filling her pussy. Craig kept thrusting. His hips moved of their own volition. With every thrust he shot more of his load deep into her until, at last, he was spent. 

Pulling his cock from her pussy, Craig rolled away. Almost at once, despite still being in the throes of her own orgasm, Julie slid down the bed and took his cock into her mouth. As she licked and sucked him clean, she savoured the mixed taste of his cum and her juices. Using her fingers, she milked the last drops of his load on to her tongue. As Craig's cum began trickling out of her, she dipped her fingers into her pussy, collecting his cream, before lifting her fingers to her mouth and licking them clean.

Eventually, Julie slid back up beside him. "I really enjoyed that," she purred as she snuggled up to him.

"Mmmmmm, me too," Craig murmured as he wrapped his arms around her and held her tight.

As they lay there in each others' arms, basking in the afterglow of their shared release, Julie was slightly embarrassed when she felt her stomach rumble.

"Hungry?" enquired Craig.

Julie laughed. "Hmmm, yeah. Now you come to mention it, I do seem to have worked up a bit of an appetite.

Craig kissed her neck lightly. "Well, why don't I see if I can rustle something up on room-service?"

"You know what?" Julie replied, "That's an amazingly good idea."

Julie puffed happily on a cigarette as Craig phoned through their order. After she'd finished, she snuggled up with him again, chatting about whatever popped into her head and exchanging kisses until their meal arrived.

After they had eaten their meals and washed them down with a couple of glasses of wine, Julie was feeling refreshed and in the mood for some more of Craig's attention.

"Think you could manage another go?" she asked sweetly.

"Are you trying to wear me out?" Craig replied, laughing.

"Maybe I am," Julie said coyly. "But then we only have this one evening and I really want to make the most of it. Besides, I still have one hole that you haven't fucked yet and it's feeling just a wee bit neglected."

Craig smiled. Julie reached down and circled his cock with her fingers, rubbing gently, feeling it begin to stiffen again. "Part of you seems keen," she purred. Craig laughed and Julie continued, "I think it quite fancies the idea of going for its hat-trick," she added.

As she spoke, Craig's cock grew harder. Julie giggled. "Someone definitely seems to like the idea of fucking my tight little arsehole," she teased, tightening her grip around Craig's shaft. Craig found himself becoming increasingly turned on. "You've fucked my mouth, you've fucked my pussy, wouldn't you like to fuck my arse too?" Julie teased. 

"Did you know, you have an absolute talent for asking silly questions?" Craig replied, grinning broadly.

Julie stuck her tongue out. "Just for that, I should withdraw my offer," she replied with mock indignation.

Craig laughed. "Yeah, but that would be kind of like cutting off your nose to spite your face, wouldn't it?"

"God, you're impossible, you know that?"

"Especially when I'm right."

"Do you think you can manage?" Julie replied, giving his now fully erect cock another gentle tug, "I mean, I wouldn't want you to overdo it."

Craig nodded. "Don't worry about me. I'm sure I'll manage somehow," he drawled.

"Ok, well why don't I give you a bit of a helping hand, or should I say, helping mouth, to start with?"

"I won't argue with that," Craig said, grinning broadly as Julie slipped off the bed and positioned herself between his legs.

"Somehow, I was pretty sure you'd agree with my suggestion," Julie replied before wrapping her lips around his shaft and drawing him deep into her mouth once more.

Savouring the taste of herself on his cock as she sucked it back to a state of full hardness, Julie found herself relishing the ease with which Craig responded to her attentions. Julie had always loved feeling a cock swell and stiffen in her mouth. She loved the feeling of power over men that it gave her. Men had always complimented her on her cock-sucking abilities and Craig was no exception. The greatest compliment of all was the fact that despite having already drained two loads of cum from Craig's cock, her lips and tongue quickly brought him to the point where he ready, willing and obviously able to fuck her again.

Having satisfied herself that she had brought Craig's cock fully back to life, Julie climbed back on to the bed and got on to all fours. "Fuck my pussy again first," she suggested coyly. "Get your cock nice and wet with my juices." 

"Yes ma'am," Craig replied, grinning as he got into position behind her and began sliding the head of his cock up and down between Julie's moist lower lips, brushing it over her clit. His cum still trickled from her pussy as pressed against her opening. 

"Yessssssss!" Julie sighed as Craig gripped her hips and slid his cock into her, filling her once more. She gripped it with her pussy walls as Craig began to stroke it in and out. "Can you reach my tits from there?" she asked, looking back over her shoulder to smile at him.

Craig leaned forward. Reaching out, he took her firm, large breasts in his hands, squeezing them as his cock plunged in and out of her pussy. 

Reaching back between her legs, Julie began to finger her throbbing clit. It was slick with a mixture of her juices and Craig's cum from earlier. She found that she had to press firmly to achieve enough friction. "Fuck me, Craig! Fuck me!" she cried, pushing her hips back to meet his thrusts. 

Craig teased her nipples as his cock stroked in and out. "Harder!" Julie demanded, "Fuck me harder!"

Craig increased his pace. The front of his thighs slapped against the backs of hers as he drove his cock into her. Julie pushed her hips back to meet his thrusts. "Yes! Yes! Yessssss!" she cried as Craig powered into her, her fingers furiously rubbing her throbbing clit.

Craig gripped Julie's hips again, pulling her towards him as he fucked her. The room was filled with Julie's moans and cries of pleasure and the sounds of their bodies coming together in a sexual collision that was almost violent in its intensity.  

The pressure of Julie's fingers on her clit combined with the sensations in her pussy and she suddenly found herself on the brink of another orgasm. 

"Ohhh... Oh fuck! I'm cumming! I'm cumming again!" Julie cried, riding the waves of her climax as they washed over her. Craig reached forward to play with her breasts again, squeezing them, pushing them together, teasing her nipples with his fingers. His cock pounded her pussy, his fingers on her nipples sent bolts of electricity through her body adding to the intensity of Julie's climax. 

As her orgasm peaked, Julie cried out, "Now, Craig! I want to feel your cock in my arse."

Craig pulled his cock from her. Julie experienced a fleeting sense of disappointment as she felt the emptiness in her pussy. Leaning forward, thrusting her bum in the air, Julie reached back to spread her cheeks. "Ooooooh," she sighed as she felt the head of Craig's cock press against her puckered rear entrance. 

Her sighs turned to gasps as Craig pushed forward, slowly edging the head of his cock into her tight rear entrance. 

"Oh... Oh fuck, that feels good," Julie sighed, pushing her hips back as Craig continued to slide his cock into her. The upthrust cheeks of her bum pressed against the front of his thighs, his short pubic hair tickled her stretched and tender rear opening. 

"Yes!" Julie cried emphatically, as her tight hole stretched around his shaft, "Ohhhhh yessss! Fuck my arse, Craig! Fuck it now!" 

Starting slowly with short, smooth strokes, Craig began to slide his cock in and out of Julie's back passage. Julie murmured her pleasure, her face buried in the pillow, muffling her voice as she pushed her hips back to meet his thrusts. "Harder!" Craig heard Julie say and he increased his pace to comply with her demands. 

As Craig's cock impaled her, Julie reached back between her legs once again to tease her clit, keeping herself at boiling point.

Craig sawed his cock in and out of Julie's tight rear hole, his balls slapping against the enflamed lips of her pussy. 

As bolts of electricity pulsed from her clit, Julie began to wish that someone else was present; another man so that she could have both holes filled at the same time. That was the only thing that could have increased her pleasure at that moment. That, and perhaps having a third cock to suck on, or a pussy to eat while her two holes were getting pounded. Just imagining what it would feel like was enough to make her climax flare to new heights.

Craig was breathing hard as he fucked Julie's arse. Despite having been drained of two loads of cum, one in her mouth and the other in her pussy, the tightness of her back passage as his shaft rubbed along its walls was bringing him close again.

Still cumming hard, Julie felt her climax peak again as her fingers rubbed her clit. "Yesssss! Ohhhhhhh yessssss! Fuck my arse, Craig! Fuck it hard! Give it to me!" she cried as her clit throbbed beneath her fingers. 

Even more intense spasms began to grip Julie's womb, her clit pulsed beneath her fingertips, her body began to shake as she surrendered herself to the most powerful orgasm of the evening. "Oh yessssss! Ooooooh fuck yesssss! It feels soooooo good!" she cried as she lost control of her pleasure wracked body. 

Craig felt the pressure mount as his cock plunged into Julie's tight rear tunnel. Julie thrust her hips back as she came, impaling her abused arsehole on Craig's cock. Feeling the spasms of Julie's orgasm through the walls of her back passage, Craig felt himself slip over the edge. "I... I'm cumming, Julie!" he roared as his cock erupted for a third time, firing his seed deep into Julie's bowels. 

"Yes! Oh yessssss!!" Julie sobbed as she felt his cock swell and twitch, releasing its load inside her back passage. 

Craig thrust deep and hard as he emptied himself into her. Having had his balls drained twice already, this time it was over quickly, releasing his load almost all at once. 

Spent, Craig pulled out and slumped to the bed, breathing hard. Julie quickly curled up beside him, letting him take her in his arms. They lay there for a while, holding each other recovering from their exertions.

Suddenly, Julie laughed.

"What is it?" Craig enquired.

"Do you think it's too late to get me that coffee now?" Julie asked.

"Hmmmm, yeah, I guess it might be," Craig replied, adding, "Trust you to think of that now."

Julie laughed again. "So, what now?"

"Up to you, I guess. You're more than welcome to stay over if you want to."

"That would be nice," Julie agreed, "I'm not really in the mood for trying to catch a taxi right now; not while I've got your cum dribbling out of me at any rate. If I did stay, do you think I might manage to squeeze one last farewell fuck out off you in the morning before we check out?"

Craig grinned. "I'm sure I should be able to manage that."

"Good!" Julie replied. "And after that, before I drag myself away from you, you can treat me to breakfast and get me that coffee you owe me."

"It's a deal," Craig said.

"Good. Oh, and Craig..."

"Yes?"




Worth Waiting For



"Just so you know, it was most definitely worth waiting for."



Worth Waiting For



There was a knock at the door or was there? Carrie was so lost in her own thoughts that she was not certain what she heard. She put her book aside. She wasn't expecting anyone. In fact there were very few people who knew where she was. She had retreated to this private cabin in the woods of this exclusive ski resort to read, rest and have some fun. It had been a crazy year and she'd worked hard; she'd worked almost every hour there was. At times she had given up sleeping and eating and she'd certainly given up on accepting the various offers for dating that came her way. On the whole she hadn't minded at all but there was just that one man that she hadn't been able to get out of her mind. The one man who made her wet just by looking at her. They had never been in the right place at the right time, passing like ships in the night; their lives taking them off in different directions before anything had a chance to develop.

The knock on the door sounded again. She had not imagined it. Getting off the sofa she went to the door. She wondered for a moment if she should open it or not. She wondered if she wanted the company. She wanted to return to the thoughts that were so rudely interrupted; thoughts about her, the guy and his perfect cock. She wasn't exactly dressed for company either. It was warm in front of the fire so she had only bothered to throw on a sweater over her underwear. The knock sounded for a third time. Carrie could not avoid this any longer. Opening the door HE was standing there, a bag at his feet.

"How did you find me?" 

"I have my ways," he smiled, a little coy, but not at all ashamed of coming to find her. "Can I come in? It's cold out here," he smiled at her as he spoke. The wind swirled around him emphasising his point.

Carrie stood aside to let him in and closed the door behind him. The flurry of snowflakes that followed him in quickly disappeared in the heat that filled the room. He removed his coat and her body began to vibrate with wild excitement that she always felt when he was close by. He was tall with broad shoulders and he emanated strength. She wanted to know how his body would feel against hers; skin against skin. Outside of her own head Carrie had only ever seen him with his clothes on but mentally she had undressed him many times. She had a good idea about what she would find. He came closer to her and she could smell the mix of his own scent and the musk of his after-shave. He was so close that she could feel him but still he didn't touch her. 

"I've missed you. I thought we might spend some time together. See what happens. I think we've waited long enough."

The look in his eyes made her feel naked even though she wasn't. Her nipples were hardening and pushing against the silky fabric of her bra and moisture was pooling between her thighs. He was what she wanted. Pulling his mouth down to hers she was the aggressor at first forcing his mouth open, pressing her lips against his. Her hands were on his body, tracing his form and dropping lower to caress the bulge of his erection. Matching her feverish exploration his hands sought out her body, his fingers insinuating themselves beneath the lace panties. Grasping her hips he pulled her closer to him, grinding his erection against her. As he removed his sweater and t shirt Carrie worked on loosening his belt her fingers stopping only to wrap themselves around his cock. Massaging it through the jeans she could feel how hard and aroused he was. He moaned a little as her grasp hardened, demanding his response. 

He pushed her panties down over her hips. The room smelt of sex as he led her to the sofa. Directing her to sit he knelt in front of her. They both remained silent, their whole focus was completely on one another. Drawing her to the edge of the seat he pushed apart her thighs so that she was totally exposed to him. Their breath mingled as he moistened a finger and slid it gently into her fevered wet pussy. His fingers were long and graceful and his reach was deep with her. Withdrawing his finger slowly he joined the first with a mate. His two fingers now slid deep within, tracing circles within her engorged pussy as they travelled. Carrie shuddered and sought out his cock again with his hands. Fumbling with the belt she released the zip and directed her hands to seek out his cock. She took hold of the erection and matched her strokes to those he inflicted upon her.

He lent forward to kiss her; open mouthed hungry kisses that devoured her. It appeared to Carrie that he had greater control than she did. Already she could feel the deep response to his touch threatening to draw out a deep orgasm. She could feel the deep flush covering her face and neck. She thrust her silk covered breasts into the air as her nipples sought out some sort of satisfaction. Friction made them harder as she crushed herself against his chest. He stopped for a moment, all tension, focus and feeling in her body remained centred on the fingers he was fucking her with.

"I'm going to make you come, then I'm going to fuck you," he said. He kissed her again, their tongues mating as they fought to catch their breath. 

Pushing his fingers deeper into her his thumb started to circle the hardened bud of her clitoris. Fully exposed there was no way for her to escape his touch; and she had no desire to. The harder and faster his fingers entered her pussy the closer she was to coming, the hotter she felt, until every muscle in her body tensed. She cried out and arched her back impaling herself on his touch. Her mind swam wildly as she fought to catch her breath. Removing his fingers he bent down and drew one long wide tongued lick along the wet and engorged lips of her pussy. Another series of small sensations shuddered through her body. Carrie drew him closer to her and she could taste herself in that kiss. Still eager she removed her sweater and bra and watched as he removed what left of his clothes as well. Naked with anticipation his cock continued to rise, rampant and hard. Carrie could not take her eyes from it, nor stop herself from reaching out and wrapping her own fingers around it again. She wanted him and she wanted him deep inside her. 

The firelight was playing on his skin. Taking the condom from his pocket of his discarded clothes she watched him almost reverentially as he slid it down over his erection with hasty efficiency. Once again he parted her thighs. Carrie reached for her breasts, her fingers seeking out the nipples that were hard and erect. Her fingers passed over them, clutched them, rubbed them adding to the sensations that were building up again in her pussy. Lifting her hips he guided his cock into her. Entering and withdrawing, entering and withdrawing, entering and withdrawing, he teased her until she was begging for him; begging for his cock to fill her. She held onto his shoulders, pulling him closer to her. As he thrust again Carrie ground her hips against his feeling him sheathed within her to his balls. 

"Please, please fuck me. Fuck me. Make me come," her voice did not sound like her own. 

Leaning over her he drew each hardened nipple into his mouth and finally satisfied her with a series of deep sharp thrusts. She came again as deep and hard as the first time and just as good. It was all good. He settled into a steadier rhythm, each thrust deep and slowly gathering in speed. She could appreciate the full length of him over and over and over again. Hammering his body into hers he pounded her harder and faster he was determined and there was nothing that could stop him from coming. As he gasped for breath he kissed her brushing the hair away from her damp face.

"That was definitely worth waiting for."



Worth Waiting For



"Yes, that would be nice," she said, clutching at her purse, briefcase and pack together. "Thank you."

"Let me help you," he offered holding out a hand. 

She let him carry her pack. His kids knew the way and walked in front, joyfully comparing their prizes. "I must admit something Mr. Rousseau," she began to say. 

"You can call me Paul," he said.

"Okay, Paul. I have to admire what you're trying to do. So many of my students have stay-at-home moms who have nothing better to do than shepherd their children around to school and sports and other activities. I can only imagine what it must be like for you doing all of it on your own and have to be the breadwinner too."

He held the door open for her as she slipped out into the chilly December air.

"It's not easy, but I didn't have much choice in the matter," he replied, matching her step. "I'm so busy that I don't really have time to think about it really. Well maybe at night sometimes when I wake up in the wee hours and can't fall back to sleep. Then I start to remember all of the things that have to be done in the next few days. It's at times like that when I really feel the need to have someone to share it with and help out."

They had reached her car and she fumbled with the keys to open up the trunk.

"If there's anything I can do to help," she offered cheerfully, setting her pack and briefcase in the truck, "Please let me know."

"Thank you," he said with that damned disarming smile. "I just may do that. Goodnight."

"Goodnight," she said opening her car door and slipping inside.

She tugged at the door and he gave her a little wave before heading off to rejoin his kids. She watched him walk away, and if she hadn't been sitting down she would have kicked herself in the butt. There was the perfect opening and she didn't even see it coming, and of course she had done nothing. God, I can be so dense, she thought to herself.

In the early spring the lower grades hosted a little musical event in the gymnasium. The janitors set up a series of risers and laid out rows of chairs for the parents and family. Kimberley and Alice, the music teacher, and been working with the kids every day to learn the simple songs. When the big evening arrived, she led her little charges from their homeroom into the gym where she and Alice lined them up. Since the program would take several minutes and it had been a long day, she decided to find a seat off to the side. Looking quickly she saw an empty chair and sat down, keeping an eye on her pupils. Pierre Cardin, her nose told her and she turned her head slightly and saw that she was sitting next to Mr. Rousseau, whose daughter sat on the other side. He smiled for a moment and turned his glance back to the stage where Martin was in the middle of the back row.

All eyes were on the makeshift stage as the children began their song. All eyes except for Kimberley's. She kept stealing glances at his man sitting next to her, their hips and legs mere inches apart. She could feel the warmth of his body beside her. She felt the telltale signs of perspiration grow. She folded her hands together nervously in her lap. When the parent sitting in front of her tilted her head to the side, she had to move closer to him to keep an eye on her students. Her hair fell past her shoulder and brushed against him. He looked over and smiled again before looking back toward the stage. 

There was a slow almost indiscernible movement beside her, and she noticed his hand edge over from his lap to his thigh and head down toward his knee, stopping part way down. His pinky finger was a hairsbreadth away from the hem of her skirt. Okay, she thought, two can play at this game. She shifted her position in the chair and brushed her thigh up against his hand. He didn't move or even flinch, his fingers holding their position pressed against the warm flesh of her thigh. Then very slowly and smoothly his fingers began to move back and forth along her thigh, a fraction of an inch at first, then farther and farther along until they were tracing a complete path along her thigh from her hem to her knee and back. She began to feel the tingles and kept her leg pressed against him.

All too quickly the kids finished their song (dammit, kindergartner's have such a short attention span, she thought) and he raised his hands up to applaud. She joined in and the kids all beamed proudly. When the accompanist began the next song, he returned his hand to where it was, except that she had shifted as close to him as possible, so close that their thighs were touching. His palm landed on his leg but his fingertips lighted on her thigh right at the hemline. She trembled again and pressed her leg against him to keep from shaking. He didn't say a word, didn't look her way, but only cleared his voice. Her leg was on fire as she felt his finger tip slowly move up and down her thigh. She began to feel so warm and tingling inside, she flicked her tongue out to lick her dry lips. When she glanced to the side, she could see him looking at her too and nodded. She could hardly breathe from the excitement of his touch.

Then the second song ended and Alice followed up the round of applause with a bow by the children and introductions of Kimberly and Virginia, the other kindergarten teacher. Kimberley stood up for a moment to acknowledge the polite applause from the audience. There was a third and final song and she wasn't sure that she would be able to take another few minutes of this flirty little finger play. My God, why don't I just take his hand and put it where I want it to be, she asked herself. Of course his daughter was sitting on the other side, and there were parents and colleagues all around. What would they think of the prim young kindergarten teacher if they could read her mind? What would he think?

When she took her seat and he set his hand back down, hers was in place waiting. He lifted it up for a second then let it settle back down into hers and like a couple of teenagers on their first date, they sat holding hands, her small pale hand with the long fingers and painted nails resting in his large strong hands. His palm was warm, with maybe a touch of perspiration too. She closed her eyes for a moment, letting the joyful clear voices of the children splash over her. Oh, let them sing this song a second time, she begged. But the song was soon over and the next thing she knew she was up from her seat and leading the children off the risers. As Alice called out her name again, she waved modestly and looked out to the crowd and saw Paul applauding, nodding his head in her direction.

Later, she stood by the door to her room watching as the kids hooked up with their parents. Among the last to come were Paul and his daughter. Martin went running out to his father's waiting arms.

"Daddy, Daddy," he shouted excitedly. "Did you see me?"

"I saw everything, Marty," Paul replied, looking up for a moment to Kimberley's smiling face.

So here she was, a month later, anxiously awaiting their appointment. It was their last conference of the school year and she had thought of little else for two days, since she could still feel the reverberations from the last time they had touched. She had practiced what she would say a hundred times in front of the mirror. Then there was the whole scene of picking out her clothes for the day, selecting just the right dress and what to wear underneath. Who knew if there would be another chance to see him, to meet him, to tell him how she felt and how he made her feel? She opened her sparkling green eyes and saw her reflection in the window; her auburn hair was cascading down past her shoulders, her pale yellow cotton dress was clinging to her figure, her hand was resting in the vee of her neckline; her eyes were twinkling lazily in the sunlight.

"Ahem," came the sound of a man clearing his voice. "Hello. Miss Maguire."

"Mr. Rousseau," she said absently, before putting on her warmest smile and turning around.

"Miss Maguire," said Leo the janitor. "How late are you going to be?"

"Oh, Leo," she said startled. "I have just one conference appointment left."

"I see," he said, looking down and away. "Well you're the last one. I'll check back in a bit later before I go home."

"Thanks," she replied.

When Leo moved off, she went back to her desk and made sure everything was ready. Her laptop computer was open to the correct spreadsheet and the hardcopy report freshly printed up. All she needed was the man. When she glanced at her watch, she saw that he was late, as usual. "This had better be worth it," she said under her breath with a smile.

"Beg your pardon," came a voice from the doorway, the voice she had been waiting for.

She looked up before saying anything again. It was Paul Rousseau this time.

"Hello. Come on in." she said waving him inside.

He was wearing a finely tailored dress shirt and tie over a crisp pair of slacks. He looked rushed and harried as if having been stuck in traffic.

"Sorry, I'm late," he said. "I had an important meeting with a client and it ran over. It seems like I'm always running late."

"Well, good things come to those who wait," Kimberley said, sitting behind her desk. Damn, what a stupid thing to say, she thought.

"Thanks," he said sitting beside the desk.

"Make yourself comfortable," she said. "I apologize for the poor air-conditioning. This weather has caught us all a bit short I guess."

That's okay," he said loosening his tie and letting the gaze of his dark eyes drift down.

She became aware that her dress was clinging quite closely to her body now and as she leaned forward to hand him the progress chart, her breasts came to rest on the desk. She could feel his look penetrate the soft cotton dress and it made her heart pound.


"Well as you can see," she said, clearing her voice, "Martin has been making great progress over the past few months." She pointed out the upward progression of his test scores and numerical grades.

The father leaned forward, reviewing the chart avidly. She leaned toward him bringing their faces closer together. Their eyes met when he looked up.

"This looks very nice to me," he remarked.

"Yes, very nice," she said, her voice wavering with emotion.

"Ahem," came Leo's voice from the door. "Miss Maguire?"

"Yes, Leo," she replied, sitting up straight in her chair.

"Since it's Friday night M'am, I'll be leaving soon. If you're going to be much longer, you'll have to leave by the office doors cause I have to lock up these out here."

"Thanks, Leo. I'll just be few more minutes."

"You're the last one, M'am. Do you want me to wait for you?"

She exchanged a look with Paul.

"No, that's okay," she said nervously, her lips trembling. "We're almost finished."

"Okay, M'am. Have a good evening," Leo said, and then was gone.

Kimberley and Paul looked back to each other for what must have been a minute. His look was penetrating her defenses, not that she would put up any.

"So, ah, do you have any questions?" she asked weakly.

"No, I think this tells a pretty nice story," he replied, leaning back in his chair. "Miss Maguire, I want to tell you what a great job you've done with Martin this year. He raves about you much of the time."

"Thank you," she smiled. She noticed that that lock of hair had fallen onto his forehead. She also noticed that his temples were glistening with sweat.

"I also want to say that I've enjoyed meeting with you during the year and appreciate all your help," he went on, his eyes not leaving hers.

"Thank you again."

"Um, may I ask you a personal question?"

"Sure, anything."

"They call you Miss Maguire. Is there a prospective Mister in your life?"

She laughed. "Not in the slightest."

"Really? I'm surprised. I would think that a lovely young woman such as yourself would have tons of guys fighting over you."

She laughed again but didn't answer. So he had been thinking about me, she thought to herself. He turned away for a moment before turning back.

"Please let me know if this sounds inappropriate, but ever since we first met last fall, I haven't been able to get you out of my mind."

"What?" she asked. "What do you mean?"

"Well ever since I met you, I've been feeling like, like a schoolboy."

"That's my line!" she blurted out. "That's how I've been feeling, like a schoolboy, I mean schoolgirl."

"I know," he said reaching over to take her hand. "I confess that I've been keeping an eye out for you but figured that there was a young man in the background. Besides, you probably wouldn't be interested in someone like me, you know, divorced, damaged goods, and all that comes with it."

"Oh, no, Paul, you've got it all wrong," she protested. "I've been the giddy schoolgirl. Every time you come near me, I get goose bumps and tremble so badly that I can't think of an intelligent thing to say."

"But you always look so pretty and appealing, and, as for that business at the musical program, I really have to apologize. That was out of order."

"Paul, have you heard a thing I've said?" she asked, leaning toward him so close that she could feel his breath on her cheeks. "I've felt the same way. Sure, you're older than I am, but I've longed to meet someone who can teach me some of the ways of the world. Just because I'm a teacher doesn't mean that I can't learn something."

He sat back for a moment and stood up. What was he thinking, she asked herself. Did I say the wrong thing? He turned and walked toward the windows. She stood up behind her desk and started to move around it toward him, but he turned back shaking his head.


"I've never been very good at this," he said, holding his hands out to his sides. "In business matters, I'm very decisive, but when it comes to my personal life, I'm a mess. My divorce has only made it worse. When I meet someone or someone tries to fix me up, even if it's someone that I'm attracted to, my shy nature takes over and I get all bound up, finding all sorts of excuses for not following through."

"Would it make any difference if I told you that I'm much the same?" she asked.

He laughed with a shrug. "Well then, what a great couple we would make!"

This was not going the way she had thought earlier. All of the wonderful things she was going to say had no meaning now. But he was looking her up and down with those great dark eyes and she could feel his look caress her like gentle fingertips, teasing her to a level of excitement that she had never known. It wasn't as if she had never been touched or had never had sex, but in his presence she felt almost like an innocent child and she wanted him to make her whole, to teach her the things that she had been denied so long, and she was determined not to let this moment escape, not this time.

"If it's all the same to you, Paul," she said moving slowly toward him, "I think we would make a terrific couple. Ever since we met, I've been having dreams about you, at night, during the day, wonderful dreams that linger on. I want you to make those dreams come true."

She was standing in front of him now, her hands resting lightly on his chest. He was warm to the touch, almost hot.

"It's the other way around, I think it would be you making my dreams come true," he said placing his hands on her shoulders. "I'm over forty years old, Kimberley. I've got kids and an ex-wife and every reason not to get involved with you. I'm too old to start all over from scratch again while you've got your life just ahead of you. And yet each time I see you, I feel this desire that I haven't felt in years."

"So here I am, your son's teacher, under thirty and never married, still waiting, still looking for that special man who will teach me all the things I long to learn. Sure I've had my share of boyfriends, but none of them ever made me feel the way you do by just looking at me."

"Isn't it funny?" Paul laughed. "I mean, here we are both coming up with reasons not to get involved, and yet, when I think about what I feel when I look at you, there isn't one good reason not to."

"Yes, silly isn't it?" she asked standing up on her toes to bring her face closer to his.

"Yes, it is very silly," he said tilting his head just enough to the side that he could bring his lips close to hers. "Silly, silly, silly."

She could feel his breath on her face, the heat of his body was tearing through her, her heart was beating wildly and she wanted to throw herself into this whirling feeling that had caught her up. As if controlled by the same hand, they moved together and kissed. His lips were warm and wet and she pressed her body forward into his. His hands slipped around her waist and pulled her closer. They kissed again and again, their lips and tongues blindly seeking out those of the other. When his tongue touched hers, the most wonderful shiver flowed through her.

"Oh, Paul," she whispered hoarsely as he began to kiss along her neck. She wrapped her arms about his shoulders and pulled herself up, pressing her breasts against his chest. "Teach me everything! I want to learn it all!"

His hands moved back up to her shoulders, and he pulled his face and his kisses away from her body.

"Oh, Jesus, Kimberley. Why are you doing this to me?"

She grabbed his tie and pulled him along as she backed up toward her desk. She pulled his face back to hers and kissed him again, hoping that the powerful feeling she had would flow through her full lips and into him.

"Paul, can't you see," she whispered into his ear as he kissed and licked her exposed neck. "Can't you feel this? I want you so badly. I want you to make love to me, right here, right now!"

"But, but this is your classroom," he protested. "I mean, you could get fired or something."

"You heard Leo. We're all alone in here and I want you so badly! I can tell that you want me!"

She perched her butt on the edge of her desk and pulled him to her.

"Right here, right now?" he asked, looking at her upturned face and stroking her cheek with his fingertips. "My God, you are so beautiful! So young and so worth the wait!"

His next round of kisses took his lips back down to her neck and down the vee of her dress. His fingers began to lightly brush her breasts and she pressed them into his hands. Her stiff nipples felt like they were going to burn their way through her clothes. When he started to unbutton her dress, her fingers dropped to her belt and quickly unfastened it and pulled it free. His fingers worked their way down just below her waist and pulled her dress open. The rush of fresh air felt refreshing, but did little to cool her flaming passion. 

His tongue explored the upper curves of her breasts tracing a path along the upper edge of her sweet nothing bra, following the lacey trim from one strap to the other and back. The sheer little cups did nothing to hide her nipples that surged upward. She pulled one cup down and away and directed the rose-colored nipple to his eager mouth. She couldn't help but gasp when he sucked it and gave it a faint loving nibble. He helped himself to her other breast, pulling the flimsy lace away, kissing her soft pale flesh and sucking the stiff rosy nipple. He cupped her full breasts and flicked his tongue in a circle around each one.

"Your breasts are beautiful," he said eagerly. "Just beautiful! It's been such a long time for me, I just hope I remember how to do this."

She held his head close as he sent wave after wave of pleasure through her. Her hands took up where his had left off, unfastening the remainder of the buttons so that her dress fell away, opened fully, inviting his look and his kisses.

"My, God, Miss Maguire!" he said easing back to take a look at her. "You have a beautiful body!" 

His hand moved lightly down her stomach and belly, grazing over the filmy lace panties, and then drifted lower to survey the soft plush skin of her thighs. It seemed like his fingertips sampled every bit of her skin between her panties and the lacey tops of her sheer white hose. She wanted him to touch her pussy so badly that she couldn't wait for him to make up his mind. She grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand up so that he cupped her crotch. She knew he could feel the dampness there as his fingers tenderly caressed her pussy. She spread her legs farther apart and his fingers found their way around and under the lacey panel.




Worth Waiting For



"Oh, my God!" she exclaimed when his fingers parted her pussy lips. "Oh, my God!"

His lips were still planting kisses on her breasts but were working their way back up to her mouth. As his fingers began to invade the wet slit of her pussy, she pulled his face up and kissed him wildly, with a passion and feeling that she had never before known. He deftly found her most sensitive spot and gently fingered her until she could no longer stand it.

"Oh, God! Paul!" she cried out in a voice that came from deep inside her. "Oh, God! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"

"Not yet, Miss Maguire," he whispered softly. "All in due time."

He pushed her back onto the desk, kissed his way back down to her breasts, then further down along her belly. Hooking his thumbs through the elastic of her panties, he began to tug them downward. She raised her butt off the desk to let him ease the flimsy garment down her long legs and then picked her feet up so he could finish the job. She couldn't believe how it turned her on when he brought the crumpled lace up to his nose and sniffed them. He tossed them gingerly onto the desk and squatted down to pay attention to her aching pussy. He ran his fingers up and down through her thin patch of auburn curls. She wondered about how some of her friends said their boyfriends preferred them to shave their twats, but she had never been brave enough to do it. He didn't seem to mind that hers was only trimmed short.

"So you are a natural redhead," he said looking up with a smile, as his fingers kept rubbing her waiting pussy.

"Auburn," she corrected as he flicked his tongue at her pussy. "My hair is auburn."

"Does it matter? Does it really matter?" he said before plunging his face into her hot wet sex.

It didn't at this point with his tongue forcing its way between the hot lips of her pussy. She scooted her butt back farther onto the desk and raised her legs up spreading them far enough apart to set her feet on the desktop. He hungrily lapped at her open pussy, licking her up and down, flicking his tongue all over her parted pink lips. When he started to poke a finger up inside her, she almost jumped off the desk.

"You have a pretty little pussy, Miss Maguire," he said, pressing his lips and tongue back onto her.

She couldn't believe the wonderful sensations he was sending through her body. Her boyfriend in college had sort of lapped at her as had a more recent guy, but neither had a produced feeling anywhere near to what this beautiful man was doing. She raised a hand up to feel herself, the stiff nipples, and the soft flesh of her breasts. When he pulled back for a moment, she looped her legs up around his head and kept him right at her pussy. She could feel her wetness dribble down the crack of her butt to form a moist spot on the seat of her dress, but she didn't care. Little involuntary moans and gasps started to bubble up from inside her. When he started sucking her clit into his mouth, teasing it with his tongue, she began to feel a tightness grow in her hips and belly and thighs, as if every muscle was flexing. She began to wriggle and writhe under the touch of his tongue and fingers.

"Oh, God Paul! Oh! Oh! Oh!"

She grabbed his head and pulled him into her pussy and a shuddering release began to flow from her clit, radiating out through her entire body, lifting the tension away from her. She felt this need to hug and kiss him deeply.

"Oh, what did you do to me?" she asked as he began to stand up.

"Just what comes naturally, Miss Maguire," he said with a big smile. "I'm not certain, but if I were a betting man, that was what you call an orgasm."

He grabbed her by the ass and pulled her off the desk. She kissed him and ran her hands all over his chest and shoulders.

"I've never done that before," she said tugging at his necktie to loosen it up. "Never like that anyway."

He reached up and eased her dress off her shoulders and when it had slipped free of her body, laid it onto the desk. Then he grabbed the straps of her bra that had fallen past her shoulders and pulled them down. The little single clasp popped loose and it fell away from her body. For a moment she realized that she was naked, except for her stockings and shoes, right here in her classroom. What if the principal came in late or another teacher came back because they forgot something? The touch of Paul's fingers on her soft skin tossed that thought far away from her mind. 

She pulled his tie free from his shirt and began to undo the buttons on his shirt. He worked on loosening up his belt and opening his trousers. He kicked his shoes off, let the trousers fall to the floor, and stepped out from them just as she finished pulling his shirt away from his chest. There was a light dusting of black hair on his chest but the rest of him was smooth and his skin felt like silk. Not that she had a lot of experience in the matter, but she had never felt a man's skin that was so soft, so touchable, so appealing. 

With another full deep kiss on the lips, she squatted down and rubbed her hands on his crotch, feeling his cock through the soft low-cut briefs he wore. She could feel it grow large by the second as she fondled it. She leaned forward to kiss and lick and nibble on his cock through his briefs until he could control it no longer and it popped out from the waistband. She tugged his briefs down and looped her fingers around his cock. It was long and thick and straight, the color of late summer suntan. The rose colored head loomed large in front of her eyes. She wanted to give him the most memorable head, but hadn't practiced in a long time.

She tried stroking him and kissing the head. Each time her lips or tongue touched him, he sighed and his head fell backward. An ice cream cone. Isn't that what Phoebe had told her, just like licking an ice cream cone? But there was something about this long tan cock that made her want to suck the whole thing inside her mouth. She felt his hips quiver when she worked most of it inside. Think of your mouth as a pussy, she thought. He reached out and grabbed her head for a moment and then let her go.

"How am I doing?" she asked. "I haven't done this all that much."

"Just fine, Miss Maguire. Don't stop!"

She tried to take all of him inside her mouth but she started to gag when he struck the back of her throat.

"You don't have to do that," he said, shifting around so that he could lean back onto the desk while she kneeled in front of him trying to swallow his stiff cock. "That's okay, Miss Maguire! You're doing great."

There was something about the way he had started calling her Miss Maguire that was turning her on beyond belief. Here they were naked in her classroom while she's going down on him. There wasn't time or inclination to consider intruders at this moment. She just wanted to keep bobbing her head back and forth on his stiff cock, feeling the tension mount in the muscles of his belly. She stroked him for a bit while she licked at his balls. 

"Aren't you going to come?" she asked.

"Uh, later, Miss Maguire!" he called out. 

After another couple of minutes, he reached for her shoulders and stood her up. Spinning her around he pushed her back onto the desk. She pushed her laptop to the side and shoved the papers and pencils to the floor. She leaned back on her desk and spread her legs. He held his cock and rubbed the head back and forth on her still sopping wet pussy. Slowly, so very excruciatingly slowly, he began to ease his cock in and out of her. Using long and slow strokes, he slid himself into her and almost back out. Her pussy cried out with pleasure as she felt every inch of him slip into and out of her. She reached out and grabbed his hips, her fingers just able to reach around to his tight buns. She could feel the force of his every move into and out of her and knew she was lying there grinning. 

When she glanced up at him, he was looking back down at her, with the most beautiful look on his face, as if his eyes were devouring her just as his cock was devouring her pussy. His tanned body was glistening with perspiration; her soft pale body was writhing with pleasure. The pace of their movements was speeding up and her breasts began to wiggle back and forth. As his thrusts grew stronger and more rapid, she grabbed at her tits and pinched her nipples. She began to moan with each stroke now, little ooos, and ohs, and ahs were escaping from her involuntarily.

"You are so beautiful!" he said softly, brushing her hair down over her shoulders. "I've waited so long for someone like you!"

Not wanting to keep her hands away any longer, she reached out to touch his body. After all of the well-intentioned setups by friends and relations, she had discovered this man on her own and erupted with pleasure at the sight and feel of him moving his wonderful cock in and out of her hungry pussy. It had been so much worth the wait for her as well.

After a few more minutes of this delicious lovemaking, Paul pulled her up by the shoulders and off the desk. As she stood upright, he turned her around, and gently pushed her forward, bending her over. His hard cock quickly slipped into her pussy from the rear. She reached for and grabbed the edge of the desk as his belly started slapping into the cheeks of her butt. She tried pushing back to meet him on each stroke. She couldn't believe the new set of luxurious sensations rolling through her now. She squeezed her thighs together and felt her pussy tighten up around him.

"I love this, Paul! Ooh how I love this!"

"Oh, yeah, Miss Maguire," he called out. 

His strokes began coming hard and fast. She began to feel that sort of tightness again, radiating out from her pussy to her belly and thighs and breasts. She fell down onto the desktop, mashing her breasts against the polished wood.

"Oh, yeah! Oh, yeah! Oh, yeah!" she cried out loudly over and over. She didn't care who heard her.

After another tingling wave of sensation rolled through her, she managed to push herself upright to a standing position. For several more strokes he kept pushing up inside of her. His arms were wrapped around her, his hands feeling up her jiggling breasts, his lips seeking the soft flesh of her shoulders and neck. Then he brought his hands down to her hips and without letting himself slide out of her, he pulled her back around the desk.

"I think you'll like this," he said and plopped his buns into her chair, with her sitting in his lap, his cock still inside of her.

His hands, still on her hips, began to guide her up and down the length of his cock. She lifted a foot up to the chair so she could push herself up and down. At one point it felt as if his cock was rubbing directly on her clit and each stroke took her to a new height of pleasure.

"Oh, Paul, this is wonderful!" she said, turning her head around to get a glimpse of him. "But I want to see you while we fuck."

"Okay," he said and helped her rise up off of him. 

He scooted his hips down a bit as she turned around and, kneeling on the chair, settled her pussy back down on him. Riding him, face-to-face, she began to think of all the times she had thought of him, of being with him, of having his lips on hers, of having his cock buried inside her.

"Oh, Paul," she said. "You don't know how many times I've thought about this!"

"The thought has crossed my mind once or twice, too," he admitted.

She closed her eyes and remembered the meetings and the missed opportunities. She felt his stiff cock inside her pussy now and knew that it was all worth it, the months of longing and waiting, and now she had this man. She began to wiggle and rock her hips as she rode his cock. He cupped her tits and kissed them. She tossed her head forward, dangling her hair in his face, then threw herself back and let it tumble down her back. She could feel it coming again, a tidal wave of sensation, this time ripping through her.

"Oh, God! Paul!" she cried again and again and again.

She collapsed in a shuddering mass on his lap. He stroked her hair and gently guided his fingers up and down her back. She rested her cheek on his shoulder.

"Aren't you going to come, Babe?" she asked.

"Does that matter?"

"Yes," she answered. "I've been coming all over you and now I want you to come. I want to feel it, I want to see it. I want you to do something nasty."

"What? Like come on your face, or belly, or tits?"

"I don't care," she screamed. "I just want you to come too!"

"You are something else, Miss Maguire," he said with that smile.

She would have done anything for him at this moment. But all he did was boost her back up onto the desk, lay her back down while holding her arms above her head, and began to slip in and out of her again. He picked her legs up and hooked her ankles over his shoulders. By pressing her thighs together he tightened up her sopping wet pussy and began humping furiously. She writhed and wriggled and dug her nails into the flesh of his back. He pressed himself forward bending her legs up against her like a bobby pin. She could feel his sweat drip down and pool up in the little valleys on her chest and belly. Just as she felt the wave of an orgasm sweep over her again, he suddenly pulled his cock out and began to squirt cum all over her belly and tits. Three, four, then five times the hot cream came spurting out of him, landing all over her body. He was grunting and gasping for breath.

"Oh, Jesus, Miss Maguire!" he cried out. "What a spunky mess I've made!"

She laughed and reached for his cock to stroke it and feel the sticky goo dripping from him. She rubbed his cum all over her belly and tits.

"I may have to punish you for this," she said, and saw a delightful and mischievous look light up his face.

He leaned forward and kissed her tenderly. "What sort of punishment, Miss Maguire?"

"Let's see now. I could place you on detention and hold you after school or I could paddle you."

"You realize that I just may enjoy that too much!" he laughed.

After a few minutes of snuggling and cuddling, the desktop grew hard and uncomfortable. He stood up and plopped down in her chair, still naked as jailbird. She knew he was watching her avidly as she stepped into her lacey panties and began to hook up her bra. His face looked sad.

"Is there something wrong?" she asked.

"No, it's just that it's been so long since I've watched a woman get dressed," he said with a sad tone of voice that matched his pitiful expression. "And I'm not sure when it will happen again, so I want to keep this memory."

"Somehow I get the feeling that it will happen again," she replied, slipping her dress back onto her shoulders.

How am I ever going to be able to concentrate when I sit here next week, she thought, as she began to rearrange her desk. She closed her eyes and the image of them making love on top of her desk came back to her. I will never look at this desk in the same way again, she thought. Catching a glimpse of Paul getting dressed distracted her, and it was her turn to watch.

"Are you okay?" he asked, as he finished tucking in his shirt.

"I've never watched a man get dressed before," she admitted.

On their way out, they paused at the doorway for a long romantic lingering kiss.

"And what's in your next lesson plan?" she asked.

"Let's see," he said thinking. "Either a review of what we've covered so far, or maybe an oral exam."

Kimberley laughed.

"Or we could form a panel discussion group and talk about what ever pops up first."

They laughed together and walked out together into the sun-streaked hall.



Worth Waiting



Surprisingly, Guy blushed, and stammered, "I, uh, was just wishing I knew you well enough to broaden the invitation."

Puzzled, but suspecting what he meant, she asked, "Broaden how?"

"I've been told it's more fun with two," he replied, the shy smile returning.

Phyll smiled in return, getting the answer she expected. Then her face turned serious. "I'll let you convince me," she said, pulling off her turtleneck. She faced Guy as she reached behind her back to unfasten her bra. As it came off, she continued, "but not tonight."

She stood there, facing him. A neat, nearly invisible scar occupied the space where her right breast had once sat. "I could use a robe, or night shirt if you have something," she said softly.

Guy nodded as he approached her. Phyll opened her mouth to speak, but Guy reached up and shushed her. His hand dropped and he lightly traced the scar. "Cancer?"

Phyll shook her head. "No, but just as bad, in terms of results. It was some sort of aggressive tumor. It took four surgeries to get rid of it, destroying the breast in the process. Guy, I'm..."

His lips ended her statement as he kissed her softly. "Thank you for your confidence. Get your shower. I'll leave a shirt on my bed for you. When you're done, I'll be in the living room having a glass of port, if you want to join me."



She found him there, reading through the foreign study applications. She nodded when he raised his glass. "Guy, I don't want to give any false impressions or appear to make any false promises. I don't know why I revealed my scar to you. Especially after knowing you only, what, eight hours. Christ! I've been friends with Steffan and his wife almost ten years, and they don't know about the surgery." He handed her a glass of port and returned to his seat.

Guy looked at her. She had set herself down on the sofa, her legs tucked beneath her, facing him as she leaned into the corner of the comfortable furniture piece. Her short dark hair, cut in a shag, framed an oval face Modigliani would have lusted to paint. Her dark blue eyes looked black in the low light. The memory of how soft and welcoming her full lips had felt stimulated a small surge in his groin.

"Phyll, I can't speak to why you shared your secret, but I can tell you that there is nothing negative about the impression it left me with. I made a pretty lame attempt at a joke, an attempt you could have easily ignored or laughed off. Instead, consciously or not, you recognized the implicit invitation, and answering the way you did, you told me if I want a relationship with you, I have to accept you as you are, battle scars and all.

"I can do that, and I can wait until you're ready to accept my invitation to share a shower." His face broke into a wide grin. "By the way, your remaining breast is beautiful."

Phyll blushed. "Thank you, and while I'm at it, thank you for everything else–being there to intercept that bastard, the room, the shirt," she said gesturing at the long tee shirt she wore. "And for understanding that I can't guarantee anything." She paused, took a sip of her wine and closed her eyes, thinking. After a few seconds, she opened them and began speaking again. 

"Not quite a year after the mess with my husband and Harry, I noticed my bra no longer fit my right breast. The doctor said it was a fluid filled cyst and used a biopsy needle to aspirate it. Six months later, it was back. But the fluid was more viscous. 

"The first time, it had been watery. The second time, it was sort of like seminal fluid. It couldn't be aspirated like it had been at first, so they made an incision and put in a drain. It took three days to drain three quarters of a cup of the fluid.

"Four months later, my breast had grown from a small B-cup to a triple-C, small D. And it was always painful. Much as it hurt to wear a bra, it was agony to go without. The process, contents, was the consistency of warm pudding. They had to open the breast and cut into the body of the tumor. They suctioned the stuff out and then tried to cut away the tissue which had contained the fluid.

"It was like a, what are they, horse chestnuts, the hull with all the barbs. It had attached itself to the other tissues in the breast, especially the chest muscles. Some of the barbs had grown into my pectorals, actually twined around bundles of muscle tissue. That surgery was twelve hours, but I still had a breast, sort of. A nipple, anyway.

"Some of the barbs had been left in the breast tissue. Each of them started to grow and form cyst-like sacs. The pain sent me back to the surgeon. I asked if he could guarantee he'd be able to get it all. When he said no, I told him to take it off. And to check the muscles to be sure he got every bit. After, he told me he had needed to remove a small amount of muscle tissue, too." She took another sip of the port. "Other than the doctors and my parents, you are the only person who knows the full story.

"With Chuck, my husband, and Harry, I haven't had a lot of success in dating men, and lately, with this," she said, gesturing toward her chest, "they haven't been a priority for me. The surgery was three years ago. I haven't been with a man since...Harry's attempt to 'comfort' me." She looked him squarely in the eyes. "You may have a long wait for that invitation."

Guy drained his glass and set it down. Turning off the reading light by his chair, he got up and walked to Phyll. He reached down and took her hands to draw her to her feet. Still holding her hands, he bent to kiss her again. It was a gentle, I-want-to-get-to-know-you-better kiss. Both opened their lips to the kiss, but there were no tongues involved. When they separated, Guy was smiling, and Phyll looked slightly puzzled. "Not that long," he said.

He slid his arm around her waist and led her to the bedrooms. "It's after midnight," he pointed out. "What time do you need to be back on campus?"

"My first class is at nine. Nothing before that, so eight-thirty or so."

"Good; me, too. Breakfast at seven-thirty, or do you not eat in the morning?"

"Just coffee and toast, or something like it."

"I guess I can handle that. If you want to join me, I usually have hot cereal and fruit this time of year. I have Scots oats, which require long slow cooking. They're delicious and keep hunger away until after noon."

"You'll have to convince me," she whispered, with a smile as she stood on tiptoe and kissed him lightly on the cheek, "in the morning. Good night, Guy. And thank you, again," she said, disappearing behind the Black Hawk door.



When he dropped Phyll off at the Fine Arts building, Guy made arrangements to pick her up at four-thirty, to drive her to her apartment to get her clothes and car. As he left her, he was in an unusually chipper mood, a mood which lasted, and was noted and commented on, behind his back, all day. 

Phyllis would have been hard put to explain the feelings of warmth which swept over her when she saw the red Alfa enter the drive to the front door of the Arts Center. 

Her mood had mirrored Guy's throughout the day, so much so that one of the older women in her graduate seminar had commented that she was acting like someone who got lucky last night. To which, she had laughed and responded, "Maybe!" raising the eyebrows of the students still in the room.

At her apartment she convinced Guy there was no need for him to stay. She was perfectly capable of packing her suitcases and driving to his house.

He had just pulled up to the stop sign at the exit from the apartment complex when a police car with the officers who had responded last night pulled up beside him, entering the estates. 

"Hey, Dr. Foster, how are you? By the way, did you hear? That guy who broke into Ms Everett's apartment made bail this morning."

"What? You're shittin' me! What stupid son of a ..."

His tirade was interrupted by the patrol car's radio. The driver turned to Guy. "7335? Isn't that Ms Everett?"

"Yes, why?"

"Someone just called in to report a dead body in the apartment," the driver said as he pulled away.

With a finesse which would have made the Alfa engineers proud, Guy executed a perfect K-turn and arrived at the apartment at the same time as the patrol car. Phyll was out of the garage and in his arms before he crossed the sidewalk.

"It's Harry. He hanged himself on my bed," she sobbed to Guy and the officers. "It's a mess. He soiled himself and looks like he was masturbating before he," she sobbed again, "before he died." 

While the driver of the patrol car called for an ambulance, the other officer entered the apartment to investigate. When the driver was done calling for the ambulance, Guy asked about getting Phyll's clothes.

"After the body's removed. One of the investigators will need to observe, but it shouldn't be a problem."

"Okay. Thank you, officer...?" Guy replied, asking for the officer's name.

"Houlihan. Hooligan Houlihan they used to call me. We met a few years ago, during the student strike you broke up on campus. I was the student who came out to talk to you."

"Really? Sorry I didn't recognize you. Interesting career choice, considering."

"Yeah. Go figure. It was going to be temporary for a couple of years while my wife finished school, but at the end of the two years, I was hooked. I don't know if I could do this in a larger city, but here, it's a good rewarding job, even better than teaching, which was my goal. Well, I better get inside before my partner thinks I've deserted him. Excuse me."

Guy turned his attention back to Phyll and started to guide her back inside. She shook her head. "Not until he's gone. I couldn't stand it." He moved her to his car, got her inside and started the engine for heat.

After several minutes, before any other police arrived, officer Houlihan came out and asked the usual questions–did she know the dead man? How? Did she know why he was there? When did she arrive? How did she discover the body? Did she touch anything, including the body or the sheet comprising the noose? What did she do before/after she found the body?

Besides the patrolman, she was asked essentially the same questions by a forensic squad member, a plain clothes detective, and an investigator from the Medical Examiner's office. 

During the interview with the detective, Guy recognized that Phyll was becoming upset with the continuous questioning, coupled with the cold. He asked if, since the body had been removed, could she go in and gather some clothes to take with her. The police officer consented and they moved inside. Although the questioning continued, being warm and active relieved some of the frustration.

During the questioning by the representative from the M.E.'s office, Phyll and Guy learned that it appeared that Harry had been involved in erotic auto asphyxiation, while drinking an excess of highly proofed rum. 

It looked like he had passed out from drinking, slumped over and hanged himself. At this point it was conjecture, but absence of signs of a struggle, including any injuries, and any other binding pointed them in that direction, and that was the working theory, pending blood analysis.

While Phyll completed her packing, Guy called Steffan Bancroft, her department head. He explained what had happened and ventured to say she would not be in to take her classes tomorrow. He also called and left a voice mail with the same message on his assistant's phone. He then called Lin Far, his favorite local Chinese restaurant, and ordered Peking Duck for two with Chinese vegetables and two Thai spring rolls to go.

It was nearly eight o'clock before they were ready to leave. Phyll made no objection when Guy picked up her bags and stowed them in the back seat of the Alfa, nor when he opened the passenger door for her. She gave him a wan smile when he handed her the package of food he brought out of Lin Far.

They ate the food in silence, a local country station playing on the radio in the background. Phyll was in shock, eating without tasting, not even registering what she ate. When she finished, Guy steered her to his shower. She offered no resistance when he began removing her clothes, nor when he removed his.

Once in the shower, he adjusted the various water zones at first so the spray did not hit them in the face. After initially getting wet and a lengthy water massage, he soaped Phyll's body, doing a thorough job, but not concentrating in any particular area. As he rose from soaping her legs and feet, he caught her smiling. "Nice," was all she said.

He advised her to close her eyes, then turned on the water briefly to wet their faces and hair. When they were sufficiently cleaned, he pulled the chain on the over head showerhead. That shut off the corner nozzles and created a deluge from above. When they were adequately rinsed, he turned off the water and led his charge into the drying zone, lighted with low wattage heat lamps to help with the drying. 

After toweling her, he picked her up, cradled in his arms, and carried her to the Black Hawk room. As he pushed open the door, she blocked their progress and asked, "Isn't this the wrong room?"

"Only if you say so," he answered.

"So," she said softly, her face buried in his shoulder. "Could we just cuddle tonight? That's what I need more than anything else, right now. To be cuddled, and to understand."

"Cuddles I can provide, and guesses. The first, whenever, and for as long as you need them. The rest, tomorrow, or later..."

"I have to teach..."

"I called our offices and told them we wouldn't be in until Monday. I'll be right here with you. The world can get by without us for one day." He had returned to his room, still carrying her. Reaching the bed, he kneewalked up on to it, to the center, where he laid his burden down. 

He slid down beside her and pulled the covers up over them. "What about the lights?" Phyll asked, smiling at him.

"Timers; around twelve," he answered, reaching for her and pulling her close, tight to his side, their nudeness melding into a comfortable zone of contact from toe to shoulder. Holding her close, Guy rolled on to his back. 

As he lay there, holding the woman he had met less than thirty-six hours earlier, he marveled that it felt so right, so comfortable and so comforting. It occurred to him, with some surprise, he was falling in love with the dark haired beauty sharing his bed.

As Guy found his position, Phyll rested her head on his chest, feeling safe and protected. Feeling secure for the moment, she examined what she had been through the last two days. She knew if it hadn't been for the man sharing her bed, "Actually," she thought, "whose bed I'm sharing," she might have been raped and murdered.

Is that why she had opened up to him so quickly, she wondered, or was it because he was so attractive, and she was so... so alone, she admitted to herself. No, it wasn't that, she realized. Although she hadn't taken them, there had been opportunities in the past. It wasn't any man she wanted, it was this man, this man who made her feel safe, secure, wanted, loved. Loved? Yes, that was it, she felt loved, and realizing it, realized she loved the man lying next to her.

Guy moved, interrupting Phyll's reverie, cradling his bedmate in his arm so her head was pillowed on his chest. They fell asleep that way, both with smiles on their faces.



Guy woke to a strange sensation. It had been over seven years since his wife had passed away, and at least that long since anybody had woken him, handling his cock. Now, somebody was lightly stroking and bouncing it off his stomach. His appreciative moan let the source of his morning pleasure know he was waking up.

"Good morning, sleepyhead. I was afraid I was going to have to get violent with my toy here," she said, shaking his dick. "It's been so long, I'm not sure I remember everything I'm supposed to do with it."

"Mmm, you're doing just fine. Was there something specific you wanted it to do?" he muttered, sleepily.

Taking his hand, she guided it to her very damp quim. "This is the first morning in more than six years I've woken up in this condition. Since there seems to be an apparently willing accomplice, I don't think I should ignore the situation. Do you?"

Guy grinned, fully awake. "Not in the least. At the same time, I don't think we should just rush in and abuse it so it's another half dozen years. We should take our time and re-introduce it to the pleasures it's been missing," he whispered in her ear as he gently covered the side of her face and neck with light kisses while he stroked her back and side.

"I was hoping you'd say that. Mmm, that's nice. You have until the end of the semester to stop doing that."

"And then what? What if I don't want to stop?" he asked as his hands continued their exploration.

"Ohhh," she sighed, "I don't know. Anything more than five minutes from now is too far away to worry about. Mmm, you can keep that up" she urged him as his fingers began to explore the trimmed thatch protecting her pubes. 

His lips found her scar, eliciting a gasp, causing Phyll to catch and hold her breath. She felt his tongue trace the faint line, and was surprised to feel a tingle in her mink, causing a new gush of fluid between her aching thighs.

He moved his attention to her remaining breast and began nibbling at her nipple. "Unh!" she grunted. "Yesss," she hissed, pulling him tight against her breast as a small spasm of pleasure consumed her.

When it subsided, Guy began a trail of kisses down the midline of her body to her navel. Phyll was writhing on the bed, her arms and legs unable to remain still. As Guy licked and nibbled lower, she became motionless, her muscles rigid in anticipation. All she was able to vocalize was a series of moans, interspersed with "ooh," or "aaahhh." 

Guy worked his way through the dark curly forest surrounding her slit, tugging on the growth with his lips, causing short little giggles to interrupt her moans. His tongue worked its way into her crease, where it approached her nubbin. 

The intrusion caused her to gasp and jerk her hips off the bed. Guy pressed his tongue into the crease, separating her labia, sinking into her opening and tasting her juices at their source. Her moans grew louder, more intense; her legs started trembling; her hands, clawing at the bed. 

His tongue withdrew and traveled upward, over her urethra, and covered her clitoral hood, pressing on it firmly, not moving as she went into orgasm, her body in rigor, arched over the bed. She came silently. If Guy could have seen her face, he would have seen her dark blue eyes open, but unseeing; her mouth, open in a silent scream.

Whenever she started to relax, she would start twitching, moving her hips and clit against Guy's miracle tongue, sending her into a mini-orgasm again. After five or six such mini shocks, she was able to pull away and gasp, "Enough, enough for now. Stop, please."

A grinning Guy moved up to lay down beside his lover, pulling her to him, answering her passionate kiss with one of his own. They were on their sides facing each other. After recovering for a few moments, Phyll moved her leg over Guy's hip, then reached down to find his manhood, which she moved to her mink, then pushed her hips forward, capturing all of him in her sheath. Still locked in their kiss, the two lovers moaned in unison, expressing their pleasure, as they united.

When their thatches were totally enmeshed, their lips separated. Guy's smile of delight was answered by one on the face of the beauty sharing possession of his staff at the moment. "I've never, ever come like that before," she whispered, suddenly shy before the man on whom she was impaled. Watching his smile grow and feeling him inside her, she grew bolder, and confessed, "It was worth waiting for. You were worth waiting for," and leaned in to kiss him as she began to move her hips.