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A Box, a Woman and Time Ch. 01

By: Lavared



You were just an average Joe, working an eight-to-five desk job, driving through traffic each morning and again each evening, coming home to a wife who never neglected to remind you of your many shortcomings.

The change began that morning at breakfast when you said you needed to run some errands. You had no particular place in mind but felt the need to get out of the house and go... somewhere.

It had been a rough week, both at work and at home. But there was more to it; a sudden wanderlust, a desire to get into your car and drive forever, putting hundreds, maybe thousands, of miles between you and the sad reality of your life.

So you rushed out the door, literally dashing through it before the claustrophobia of spending another second at home could overwhelm you. 

You drove with no destination in mind and tried to figure out exactly where this feeling of intense dissatisfaction was coming from. You were surprised when you realized that you were heading into the city. Not your city – The City. You wondered why your subconscious mind decided to go there but not enough to pull off the highway. 

It seemed almost preordained. 

The hours pass quickly and you are surprised to see the exit signs that will take you directly into the heart of the city. You drive past exits, one after another, with no sense of regret or urgency. An unmemorable song is on the radio and as you sing along with it you find yourself off the highway and driving down a street you know you have never seen before in your life. Yet you are strangely calm. With no conscious thought you maneuver through twists and turns into a completely foreign neighborhood where you stop at last in front of an abandoned warehouse near the river. 

You turn the key and the radio and engine stop. It is quiet. You step out of the car and look up and down the street. There is no sign of life anywhere: no people, no cars, no birds or vapor trails in the sky and no sounds except for your own breathing and the wind. 

This should be eerie. 

You know that you should be afraid of this unknown, decrepit area, but again, strangely, you are completely at ease and unconcerned. 

The abandoned warehouse is tall and wide with a dwarfed door just in front of where you parked your car. You walk to the door and pull it open, knowing that it will not be locked. The inside of the building is cavernous and totally empty except for a lone desk set incongruously in the middle of the huge floor. A desk lamp casts a small pool of yellow light in the center of the surrounding darkness. 

There is a figure behind the desk. You walk purposefully across the dust strewn floor, your footsteps echoing up and into the vast area above. Behind the desk is a nondescript shape. 

Man? Woman? You're not certain. While the uncertainty would normally drive you crazy, it seems unimportant. 

You are where you are supposed to be. They are where they are supposed to be. 

A box appears on the desk. It was not there earlier, no one has moved but there is the box where it wasn't before. 

The figure behind the desk does not speak. 

You pick up the box. It is neither large nor small; colorful nor dull; pristine nor shabby...yet it is surprisingly heavy. And it is meant for you.

It feels right. But you are puzzled about the nature of the box itself. "What am I supposed to do with this?" you ask. 

OPEN IT

"What will happen when I open it?"

YOU WILL BE ELSEWHERE

You consider this for a moment. It sounds oddly reasonable.

"What will happen to me there?"

ALL DESIRES KNOWN AND UNKNOWN

"Will it be dangerous?"

YOU WILL LEARN YOUR OWN NATURE

You look down at the box in your hands and then back up. Curiosity is beginning to reassert itself and you ask another question. 

"How do I get back from th...?"

GO

You are in your own driveway and the shadows are long. Somehow an entire day has passed but you have only the vaguest recollection of it except that the box is yours: your box, your prize, your feared yet wonderful possession. Tucking it under your arm you walk jauntily up the steps and into the house, knowing from hard-earned experience you'll be grilled at length about your long absence. You hide the box in the farthest corner of the coat closet and walk, whistling, into the kitchen, your memory of the day already faded as you consider what to make for dinner.

The opportune moment comes the next Saturday when your wife leaves for the afternoon to visit a new friend. A rare moment of solitude is upon you and your first thought is to open the mysterious box. You peer out the front window until you see her car disappearing from sight, and then hurriedly open the coat closet. The box is there, still hiding beneath the steps, waiting for you. 

You pull it out and carry it to the kitchen where you place it on the wooden table. There is no discernable means of opening it, no lid or seam or hole mars its smooth surface. 

But you remember the instructions clearly: OPEN IT so there must be a way. 

You briefly consider using scissors or a knife to cut through it but feel strongly that doing so would break the covenant you have with the... being who gave it to you and with the box itself. 

You pick it up and carefully check every side but to no avail. 

"This is ridiculous." you mutter in exasperation, "What am I supposed to do, say 'Open Sesame'?" 

It opens. 

You sit for a moment, your heart racing as you prepare to look inside. You can't remember ever having had such an intense feeling of excitement and apprehension in your life. Slowly, you rise from the kitchen chair and peer over the sides into the box. There is something within but you can't quite make it out so you lean in for a closer look and see what appears to be a...

You are in a hallway. The floor is freshly waxed and the long beige hallway is dotted on either side with large wooden doors. A green rail runs along the walls. At the end of the hallway is a grouping of equipment: tall metal tubes on casters, collapsed wheelchairs and gurneys. It's a hospital. Your mind can't grasp the sudden change from your kitchen to these new surroundings and you look down, fully expecting to find yourself naked and in an uncomfortable dream, but instead you find yourself clothed in your normal work clothes with the addition of a tie, lab coat and stethoscope. Only now do you realize that you are standing near a nurses' station. There is a bustle of activity there and your first thought is to get away before they realize that you don't belong. 

But just as you turn to head for the elevators a young nurse accosts you. 

"Dr. James!" she cries. "Dr. James, we've been looking for you!" 

She rushes towards you as you stare dumbly at her. Her hand grasps your arm and she pulls you back towards the nurses' station. With sinking heart you follow her, feeling that you have stepped into a play and are the only actor who doesn't know their lines but more fearful of causing a scene by trying to escape than of going along with her. She leans over the counter of the station, affording you a glance at her shapely legs as her white cotton dress rides up her thighs. When did they start wearing those white uniforms again? 

"Here it is, Dr. James, her chart." 

"Thank you." You take it from her and pretend to peruse it. Shortly you find that you can make some sense of it. Some of the notes are legible and you begin to become interested in the story that unfolds as you read on. 

Name: Anne Morella Leighton 

Age: 32 

Ethnicity: Caucasian 

Date of admission: June 14, 1964 My God she's been in here a long time. 

Primary diagnosis: Paraplegic

Severe trauma to spinal cord caused when patient was thrown from vehicle in an automobile accident in 1953. 

Treatment: Physical therapy to maintain muscle mass. Occasional use of Thorazine to combat depression.

Prognosis: No positive outcome likely.

"Nurse..."

"It's Betty, sir." 

"Nurse Betty," You begin and snort as her name hits you. You look at her, expecting her to smile ruefully at the combination of her occupation and name but she looks back, only innocence and earnestness in her blue-grey eyes. 

"Nurse Betty. I'm not a physical therapist at least I hope I'm not supposed to be one and there is nothing I can do for Mrs. ..."

"Miss"

"..Miss Leighton. I'm sorry more than you know because you are one incredibly sexy bundle of womanhood and I'd love a chance to spend more time with you but you'll need to contact her regular doctor."

"But Dr. James, he called you in because your special treatment is her only chance. The successes you've had with your European patients have brought hope to us all. Dr. Young showed all of us the article about you in The Lancet. It was a miracle, Doctor, a miracle, and that's why... oh please... she's so good and it is heartbreaking to see her always so sad...please help her, Dr. James." Betty's eyes are swimming with tears and you fight the urge to pull her into your arms and kiss them away. 

You sigh. Damn she's pretty. And you're susceptible to women's tears. Plus you're starting to feel like a real shit, even though you know you can't possibly perform any kind of miracle with someone who's been paralyzed from the waist down for over fifty years. Oh well, what can it hurt to walk in and talk to her for a few minutes?

"Lead the way nurse."

Betty leads you down to the end of the hallway. As you walk you admire her neatly coiled brown hair what's with the stupid cap? and mentally remove her crisp uniform. A very pleasant picture forms in your mind. Just as you're slipping off her white lace panties she stops in front of the farthest room bringing your fantasy to a sudden halt. She opens the door for you and then follows you into the room.

No lights are on and the cloudy day has the room much darker than the bright hallway so it takes a moment for your eyes to adjust. There is a woman, sitting in a wheelchair, with her back to you as she gazes out the window. Her hair is unbound, long, and red instead of the silver you expected. She wheels the chair around to face you and you are looking at the most beautiful woman you have ever seen, more beautiful than you imagined a real woman could ever be; a creature so lovely that it literally takes your breath away. She is tall and willowy with milky white skin. Her red hair flows around her oval face, framing her brilliant sea-green eyes, falling past her rounded shoulders and down her slender body until it ends in gentle curls near her waist. 

You cannot speak. Words, like breath, elude you as you stare in awe. Then you look into her eyes and see in their depths a profound sadness. It breaks the spell and you breathe again and remember that there is an entire world that is not just her loveliness. "Excuse me. I am looking for Anne Leighton. Have you seen her?"

"I am she." 

"But..." The medical record stated that Anne was injured in an automobile crash in 1953. It is now 2005. She should be at least 50 some years old and your assumption from reading the chart was that she was an adult at the time of the accident. That would make her at least 70 but she appears to be a woman in her late twenties or early thirties. You glance over at Betty, Betty in her crisp white uniform, white cap, white hose and white nurse's shoes. It all begins to click into place. 

"Miss Leighton - I need to ask you a few questions. Please don't be offended by these, they are very routine. What year is it, Miss Leighton?"

"It is January 27, 1966. Our president's name is Johnson. My first grade teachers name was Mrs. Haslett. Seven times nine is sixty-three and you have a tiny nick on the left side of your chin, probably from shaving this morning. I'm sorry, Doctor. I've been asked these questions so many times by so many different experts that I can recite them in my sleep. I don't mean to come across as sarcastic. You look like a very nice person. Please call me Anne." 

She smiles at you warmly but her eyes are still tinged with sorrow. It makes you wish more than anything else to be able to erase that sadness. 

You excuse yourself, grab Betty and pull her out into the hallway. She carefully closes the door. You lean back against it and look up towards the florescent lights that line the ceiling. 

"Oh God, oh God this sucks. This sucks! What the fuck am I supposed to do?"

"Doctor," says Betty, quietly as she looks down in embarrassment. Her sweet face she is such an odd mixture of innocence and sexuality, like a modern day Messalina but with the eyes of an angel stops you. It is 1966 and obviously doctors aren't supposed to talk like this in front of nurses. 

"Tell me what you know about my treatment. The specifics, Betty. Tell me everything you have read or heard."

"The article didn't give any real details on the treatment. It said that your treatment only works in cases like Anne's where the lower extremities react to stimuli but the messages are blocked from moving up the spinal cord to the brain. I remember that it involves a tactile sensory overload that can sometimes create a new pathway allowing the brain to once more feel sensations from below the point where the cord was damaged."

You are not a doctor. You have no degree, no medical knowledge; you don't even read the health articles in magazines. But you can't bear the thought of that exquisite woman being trapped in a wheelchair forever. And... you're here. The box unbelievable that you have almost completely forgotten about it and your other, real life and the change in time, everyone believing that you are some supposed expert – obviously there is some type of magic afoot. Maybe that magic, whatever it is, can work for you. Maybe it is even supposed to. 

"Is there anything else you remember that you can tell me?"

Betty looks at you with an enigmatic expression that quickly passes before she begins. "Only that you do what you do best and it works."

You stand in silence for a few minutes and contemplate the meaning of her last sentence.

"Leave me alone with her for a while. I will press the button if I need you."

"Yes sir."

Anne is still by the window. When you return she looks up at you with interest but without much hope. You walk over and kneel before her, taking her slender hands in yours and looking into her green eyes. You could drown in the depths of those eyes but you have a job to do, and other features to explore. Carefully you explain that you are going to attempt to help her regain her feeling again below her waist. That you are going to do this by stimulating her in her most sensitive region. That you are a doctor and that she needn't fear or be ashamed of anything you do to her or that she feels. 

She nods her assent. 

"I am not afraid, Doctor, and I will not be ashamed of anything having to do with my body. I hope... oh this is embarrassing I guess because I hardly know you, but I hope you succeed, not just because I want to walk again and feel again but because... I want to feel that again too. It has been so very, very long." 

You lift her gently from the wheelchair and lay her down on the bed. Standing next to her you run your right hand down the side of her face, her long neck, past her collar bones and rest it on her right breast. You begin to caress and squeeze it gently and lightly pinch her nipple, feeling it harden slightly even through her blouse. You put your other hand on her left breast so that you are caressing both. She watches you silently but her chest is rising and falling faster than before. Feeling her this way, through her clothing, knowing what you are about to do to her body turns you on immensely. 

"I'm going to remove your shirt now, Anne, so I'll need you to sit up in a moment for me."

"Yes, Doctor." 

One by one you undo the buttons on the front of her blouse and then pull it open, revealing breasts which are small and tipped with rose-colored nipples. You rub your thumbs over her nipples and notice that she closes her eyes for a second when you do. Goosebumps rise on the skin of her breasts and her nipples tighten even more as you roll them between your fingers. She is breathing faster now and you can tell that she is going to be highly responsive to everything she feels. You lean down and lick her nipples, wetting them with your tongue and then blowing lightly across them, one after the other. Anne moans very softly. 

With gentle pressure on her back you help her sit up. She lifts her arms to help you pull off her shirt. Her long red hair flows over her shoulders, nicely framing her petite breasts. You run a hand over them again. You're not a breast man but these are perfectly champagne glass shaped and the more-red-than-brown nipples are damned near irresistible. 

Stepping closer towards the head of the bed you lift her thick hair off her back and push it to the side, revealing her long, elegant neck. You put one knee behind her on the bed and begin kissing her neck, cupping her breasts in your hands at the same time and pulling her in towards you. Her neck is warm and supple so you linger there a while. She tilts her head, offering herself more fully to you and moans again when you begin licking her ear. Her skin is incredibly soft and feels like velvet to your fingertips. You spend a long time touching her, running your hands over her neck, shoulders, arms and breasts and she leans in to your every touch. 

You wonder if she is growing wet. Will her body be this responsive below the waist even if she can't feel it? You decide it is time to find out. There is an extra pillow on the window ledge. You put it on top of her regular pillow because you want her to be able to see and be aware of everything you do to her. You place a hand behind her back and lower her back down to the bed. 

Slowly, very slowly, you pull down her skirt revealing her waist... hips... panties... thighs...until you have it fully removed. You hook your fingers inside the top of her panties and slowly ease them off her hips, down her legs and off her body. Then you spread her legs enough to see between them. For a moment you merely stand and admire her exquisite body. Her skin is smooth and the color of the palest cream, offset by the long red curls at the top and the short red curls between her long, slender legs. Unable to resist you run your fingers through the hair above her pussy. It is as soft and silky as the hair on her head. She watches you touch her without saying a word but her breasts are heaving and there is a sheen of moisture between them that you find extremely sexy. 

From the foot of the bed you lean forward and rest your hands on her knees. 

"Anne, I'm going to begin stimulating you below the waist now by touching you with my hands and my fingers and my lips, even with my tongue. I want you to watch carefully everything that I do to your body and imagine that you can feel it. When I touch you like this," you run a hand up her leg and over her pussy before returning it to her knee, "I want you to imagine that you can experience every sensation just as you could before the accident. But there is something else I need from you Anne. It is important that your upper body continues to undergo stimulation as well. So I want you to caress yourself. When I look up I want to see your hands on your breasts, doing whatever you know will make them feel good. Can you do that for me Anne?" 

"Yes." She answers and moves her hands to her breasts. She squeezes them and begins to lightly stroke her nipples. Then she stops, puts both index fingers in her mouth, pulls them out dreamily and uses them to wet her nipples before stroking them again. 

After enjoying the sight of her massaging herself for a few moments you return to the task at hand. You pull her legs further apart so that her lips are in plain view. Beginning on the inside of her thighs, just above her knees you lightly run your fingertips in ever widening circles, slowly moving up her thighs as you go. The skin is softer there even than on her breasts. You run your thumbs from back to front, at the very top of the inside of her thighs, then lean down to feel the smoothness of her skin with your tongue. You are so close to her pussy that you can smell it. 


A Box, a Woman and Time Ch. 01



Looking up you see Anne smile. You smile back. She is rolling her nipples between her thumbs and fingers now. You lightly run a finger up and down the middle of her lips. Then you run a finger down the same pathway but this time you push in between them. Your fingertip feels moisture. You push further in, until you are rubbing her inner lips. Oh, she is wet; wet and slippery inside. Sliding your finger up and down, up and down you lean in and bury your nose in her russet curls. You kiss the top of her mound. Then you kiss her again further down, again ever further until your lips are on top of her clitoris. Still sliding your finger up and down her pussy, you begin to lick around her clit. From there you work your way down until your tongue is on her delectable pussy. 

She tastes musky and salty and fresh and wonderful. 

As you run your tongue up and down her inner lips you slip a finger inside. Her body reacts, growing even wetter and more open. Can she feel you? You check again and she is still watching you, seemingly fascinated by the sight of your finger sliding in and out of her pussy. You add another finger. Her eyes are still drawn to your actions. You bend down and lick her from the base of her pussy all the way up to her mound with the very tip of your tongue. She responds by freezing in position, her hands cupping her breasts, her eyes still glued on you. "Your pussy tastes delicious."

"Oh!" 

You lap her pussy with broad strokes, turning your head slightly from side to side to cover every inch. Your fingers are soaking wet from her juices. They glisten when you pull them partially out, her lips push in slightly when you press them back in. 

"I love eating you. I love licking up your juice. I'm going to love having your clit in my mouth."

She gasps. Her mouth is open and she leans slightly forward, her hair falling like a curtain beside her, her green eyes wide. 

Encouraged, you lick upwards until your mouth is covering her clit. You rub it, teasing, with your tongue, first fast, then slow, and then fast again. You suck on it, hard, pulling it upwards. Your fingers are now moving in and out of her pussy rapidly and forcefully. You lift your mouth for a moment. Your lips are coated and wet. 

"I'm going to fuck you, Anne. I'm going to put my cock inside you and fuck you as hard and as long as I can." 

Her eyes lock on yours as you pull your fingers out of her snatch and lift them up towards her mouth. She opens her mouth to take them in. Her lips curve up in a mischievous smile before she licks them clean. Anne pulls them out with her hand, running her tongue over the tips before she lets them go. How you love a girl who acts naughty in bed! She is ready. It is time for more.

Hastily you remove your clothing until at last you free your penis from its fabric prison. You're rock hard and aching for relief. You move up her body until your cock is pressed against the entrance to her pussy. With one hand you rub the tip up and down between her slippery lips. She doesn't need any preparation. She's soaking wet. But oh it... feels... so... damned...good. You position your cock at the mouth of her pussy and push in with your hips. Further, further, further until your hips are pressed against hers and the full length of your cock is enveloped in her warm flesh. She's tight and it feels wonderful. 

You slide slowly out... in... out...in...working up a rhythm, pumping into her as far as you can, your balls slapping against her ass at the end of every stroke. She looks so beautiful beneath you, her hair covering the pillow, golden-red at the tips, darker red around her face and neck from her sweat. She can't feel you but her body is reacting. Her nipples are hard and tight. Her eyes are half-closed and smoky. You keep going. Closing your own eyes you lose track of time. How long have you been fucking her? Minutes? An hour? You want to go on forever. 

Anne moans loudly. Everything she does seems perfect. You lean down and gently bite the tender flesh on her neck. She cries out in pain and lust. You suck on her neck, nibble her shoulder. You keep pumping. Her passage is getting warmer from the friction. You move her hand down between you. "Rub your clit." 

"Yes." She fingers her clit, and then starts rubbing it harder. You can feel her hand beneath you. You keep pumping in and out. Her neck is too tempting. You nuzzle it, lick it, suck it, nip it. You keep pumping. You feel something. Her legs are creeping up your back. Yes! She's spreading them for you and now you can push even further in on your strokes. Your body is soaked with sweat. It drips off the end of your nose. You keep pumping. Her legs are up high on your back. You push them up over your shoulders. Deeper. You keep pumping. 

She's crying and moaning. Your bodies are sweat-soaked, sliding against each other with each thrust. Oh god, you can't go much longer. It feels too good, too good to hold back. She's cumming, screaming, crying. Her pussy grips your cock as she cums. It sends you over the edge. You cum for what seems like forever, shooting strand after strand of semen deep inside her. 

Suddenly you realize how strained your legs and arms are. You collapse by her side, pulling her legs down as you roll her over with you, your softening cock still deep inside her pussy. 

This is the most incredible woman in the world and you are the happiest man in the universe. Life is good. She is... flawless and sexy and beautiful and she's looking at you like she feels the same way so you kiss her, pressing your lips against hers. You lift the thick tresses that have fallen between you back behind her and pull her in even closer. She slides a leg up over your hip and kisses you back.

"Anne." 

"Yes my darling. You're so wonderful."

"You're moving your legs." 

"You're wonderful and magnificent and the greatest man ever in the whole wide world."

"You're moving your legs, Pumpkin."

Her eyes open wide and she looks down at her leg resting on your hip, then back up to you, shock and joy combined on her lovely face. "I'm moving my legs!"

The door opens and Betty walks in. "Doctor James! My god you're both naked! Oh that's not fair, that's not fair! How could you!"

You are sitting at your kitchen table. 

You are sitting at your kitchen table. The box closes in front of you and is once again seamless. "Noooo! Open up! Open Sesame! Open Sesame, damn you!" The box remains closed.

"NO, NO, NO I HAVE TO GO BACK!!" You scream as you hit the table on either side of the box with your fists. 

But you hear a car pull into the driveway.



A Box, a Woman and Time Ch. 02



The next three weeks were hell. 

Scarcely a moment passed when you did not think about Anne and what you so briefly had, then lost. 

When your wife returned home you had quickly hidden the box and run upstairs, locking yourself in the bathroom. You knew you couldn't possibly face her until you had time to come to grips with what had happened. Had it been real or imagination? 

You lifted your hands to your nose. Her scent was still on them. 

It had been real. 

A long hot shower erased her scent but not her memory.

One night you began researching – did Anne Morella Leighton truly exist? After an hour online you managed to find a couple of references to her and to Dr. James. There was a picture of him, but he looked nothing like you. There was a photograph of her too, taken in 1971. She was smiling and happy, standing beside her husband as they donated a large check to the hospital. Where would she be now? Possibly still living but an elderly woman. What possible good would it do to contact her, especially given that Dr. James looked nothing like you? 

Would she remember him or you? 

Your wife informed you of her plans to be out of the house the next Sunday and you knew you would once more be home alone. 

You began to think about the box. Would it work again? Where would it send you? Would you go back to Anne or somewhere new? 

Should you go? 

The last question was difficult. You spent the week turning it over in your mind but there was never any real doubt. Your curiosity was too overwhelming to resist. 

You retrieve the box from the coat closet and set it on the kitchen table. You nervously rub your hands together and realize that your palms are sweating. Knowing what the box can do has made you slightly fearful of it but you cannot resist using it again, still hoping that you will be returned to Anne. 

"Open Sesame." 

The box opens. 

Sitting as you are you cannot see within it but the top is clearly open. You stand up and lean over to peer within. 

There is something...

You are in a large room. The acrid smell of wood smoke assails your nostrils and your eyes immediately begin to burn. Dim sunlight filters through the small, high windows and some light flickers from the huge fireplace to your right but it takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the light and smoke. The tall, stone walls are covered in tapestries. 

You are in a castle. 

The room has two long tables and at the end of one of them is a loud group of quarrelsome dirty men: very large quarrelsome dirty men. You decide to exit quietly from the room before they notice you and with that thought in mind begin edging towards the entrance opposite the great fireplace. 

Halfway there a woman enters the room through the doorway you have chosen and walks towards you. Her swaying hips and pretty face look familiar and when she is close enough that you can see her clearly through the smoke you realize who she is. 

"Betty!"

"Master, I have been searching for you. Please come with me." 

She is wearing a long blue velvet gown, cut low enough in the front to display her ample charms, and they are far more ample than you realized when you saw her in a nurse's uniform. Her hair is unbound except for a thick braid circling the back of her head and the brown tresses hanging through it reach almost completely down her back. When the two of you exit the smoky hall and you are able to see more clearly you realize that she is prettier even than she was before; the blue of the gown accents her eyes. 

You take her hands in yours, feeling grounded by the familiar sight of her face and touch of her warm hands. 

"Betty, where are we?"

She cocks her head, gazing at you with the same earnest expression you remember from before. 

"In the hallway. Master, why do you call me Betty? Have I not lived within your household and served you long enough for you to honor me with the remembrance my given name? Was it not just this morning that you called me Betta as you broke your night's fast?" 

"Indeed Betta," you reply. "You have served me long and well. I thought that given our long association I would call you by a nickname, as a sign of my affection and esteem for you."

"Nick name?" She furrows her lovely brow. "I do not understand what you mean by nick name. It is not meant as an insult, then?" 

"No."

"Do you truly have affection for me?" Her eyes gaze steadily into your and her soft lips part slightly as she leans closer towards you. "Am I to be... will you let me... can I begin to serve you in any other way?" She blushes. "It has long been my hope to serve you as one of your Maidens of the Chamber." 

You begin to wonder what type of situation you have walked into. Did she say one of my Maidens of the Chamber? 

This raises some interesting thoughts. The box appears to have sent you much further into the past than 1964 and it appears that you have once again stepped into someone else's life – the life of the Master of this castle, whoever he is. She did say one of didn't she? Intriguing. What does the master of a castle do anyway? 

"Are we currently at war?"

"No, Master."

"Having any kind of altercation with our neighbors?"

"No, Master."

"Foreseeing any invasions on the near horizon?"

"No, Master."

"Have I by chance any younger brothers or cousins who are not already settled on their own land?"

"No, Master."

"Is there a tournament on the schedule?"

"No, Master, naught but the harvest which is to begin soon."

You are relieved. Swords and armor sound romantic in books but you imagine that the Surgeon General would declare them to be very dangerous to your health. And life. Your curiosity is getting the better of you.

"How many maidens of the chamber have I?"

"At this moment, Master?"

"Yes, currently."

"Hmmm, give me a moment, Sir." She begins to count on her fingers. "Rowena, Cynethryth, Angelline, Edwynne, Nerienda, Catharina, Ysabel, Mildrede and Beornwynne." 

"Nine!"

"Those are your nightly maiden's, Master. Then there are your fortnightly maidens: Sibilla, Splendora..."

"Splendora? I have a Maiden named Splendora?"

"... Petronella, Rose, Anora, Paulina, Wulueua, Catin, Tiecia, Leticia, Aunphelice, Muriel, Linniue, Melodia, Geva, Isolda, Hyssmaye, Immine, Joan, Roana, Beatrix, Elizabeth, Reyna, Dayluue, Letselina, Estrild, Theda, Juete, Amiable..."

"Is she nice?"

"... Aicusa and Seild." Betta finishes counting on her fingers. "Forty, Master. No, wait. I forgot to count the triplets, Emelin, Emelot and Emeluna so you have forty-three Maidens of the Chamber." She sighs. "At this moment." 

"And they all are between the ages of eighteen and twenty and spend their days making beautiful underwear," you mutter to yourself. "It's a wonder I can walk."

Betta watches you patiently. She is the calmest woman you have ever known. Patient, serious and earnest almost to a fault but ... those rounded globes are distracting you. They are so perfectly round and you can so easily imagine slipping your fingers between them, then pulling down the velvet fabric to expose the brown (they must be brown like her hair) nipples and running your tongue over them before you take them into your mouth and...

"Master, it is time to go now," she says, breaking your pleasant reverie. "I have your sword ready." 

Whoa. Did she say Sword? Uh oh. 

"Betta, you assured me that all was well and that I would not be needing any swords in the near future!"

"But Master! What of the Witch?"

Your dumbfounded expression answers for you.

"The horrible, evil witch from the east, Master! Surely you must remember her. She has already cast her evil spells on the fields and beasts. Now she has threatens to unleash the worst of her powers on Harvest Moon!" Betta's face twists in anguish. "On the morrow, Master. You must dispatch her. No other Lord has the strength to oppose her. We stand so much to harm if she is not overwhelmed. It is you, Master, who must save us." She hangs her head for a moment, and then lifts her woebegone face to yours, "Master... you must. We have no other hope." 

Her eyes, swimming with tears, her thick wet lashes and her solemn but hopeful expression undo you. Why do this woman's tears always move you? Knowing that your answer is madness and that all you are likely to do is cause your own death, you find that you cannot bear to disappoint her. Fighting your intense desire to pull her into your arms and smother her with kisses, you speak instead.

"Betta, bring my sword." 

An hour's sore ride later you are facing a low cave, cut into a rocky hillside. It is a relief to dismount from your horse, no doubt a fine animal, but lacking even the outmoded shock absorbers of your Geo Prism. 

"Is there anything you can tell me, dear, which will help me vanquish this evil witch? Are there any weaknesses that you are aware of? Anything whatsoever I can use to my advantage?"

"I have heard that she can change shapes and take on any appearance that she desires. But it is only as her true self that she can be vanquished. More than that I fear I do not know except her name, Suhaylah, and that she comes from the land near Babylon where they have strange gods and ways."

Betta puts her hand over her eyes to shield them from the noonday sun and peers into darkness of the cave. She looks down at you. You reach up to her and she somberly takes your hands, kissing them tenderly first on one side and then the other. 

"I will wait for you, Master." 

"Not too close by, Betta. If I do not come to you by sunset you must leave without me." 

She nods gravely and pulls the reins, turning away. You hear the slow, steady steps of her mare fade until there is no sound or presence around you but the wind. Your sword, absurdly large, clanks against your thigh as you walk across the rocky ground into the cave. 

Now that Betta has gone and you're alone, fear grips you. It was easy not to think about the forthcoming confrontation when you were riding with her; admiring her angelic face, watching the way her long tresses caressed her back, talking quietly and stealing glances at the tops of her full breasts; the outline of her slender thighs. It was easy to feel brave and in charge in her presence but now you feel alone and frightened, unsure of your next move, knowing only that if your life depends on using the heavy sword, you will surely die.

You enter the cave. 

Once your eyes adjust to the dark interior you see a woman before you. She is stooped over, frail and grey haired. . As you enter she turns towards you and you notice that in contrast to the rest of her, her eyes are black and shining, full of life. 

"Eh, what do you want here? Do you think you can wield that sword against me? It's larger than you are." 

Then something crosses her face and you sense that she has just realized that you are an imposter, not the master of the castle at all but someone else from far and time away. 

"Who are you?" she asks querulously. "Why are you here?" 

In the few seconds that she has questioned you you've had an epiphany. The sword is useless. You have no skill with it and attempting to use it against her will prove disastrous. You must use, find, another method. You test her.

"Why do you want me to be here?"

"Stranger, I did not ask you to come."

"But here I am. Surely it was you who called me, else why would I be here? Are you not the mistress of all you purvey?"

"Truly I am that and more. But tell me now; to what purpose have you come? From whence have you come?"

"Most certainly I am come from great distance at your command. Why else would I be here and not elsewhere?" 

She studies you for a moment, her face a picture of puzzlement. 

"You are from far. I cannot see your past. You do not know or believe in me. Are you ... a God?"

"Would I tell you that I was a God if I were? Would I not, like Zeus, come upon you as a bull or swan, to mate with you at my pleasure?"

"What pleasure would a mortal or God have in an old woman like me? Answer me that."

"Would not a God see beyond that empty carcass to the beauty that lies within? Are you not a creature of magnificence and loveliness hiding beneath that stooped and wrinkled exterior? Or is it your true face that I see: old, ugly, and repulsive beyond belief? Are those sagging teats truly yours or should they be taut and firm? Is that hideous face truly yours or should it be youthful and lovely? Have I wasted my time coming here to see you? Time I could better spend on another, more agreeable female? I take my leave of you, old woman. It seems that I was misinformed when I heard the tales of a beauty named Suhaylah, hiding here in disguise. You must not be she. I will seek my, and her, pleasure elsewhere."

You turn to go, scarcely daring to breathe, and feeling the midpoint of your back itch, expecting at any second to feel a dagger or other weapon piercing your skin. 

"You are not a God! A God would know for certain if I were ugly or beautiful."

You swing about and stare into her raven black eyes, keeping your own face as unemotional as possible, knowing that an enigmatic expression will drive her crazy because she is just the egotistical type of woman who has to know at all times what men are thinking. 

"You bore me with your endless prattle." 

And you say not another word.

She is clearly rattled by your lack of response. 

"You... how dare you speak to me thus? I... you..." she stamps her foot in frustration "I am beautiful beyond compare!"

"Oh yes the thinness of your white hair so offsets the beauty of those deep folds and mottled skin. It is all I can do to restrain myself from taking you at this very moment." You say dryly, your arms folded across your chest. You spread out the fingers of one hand, gazing at your nails to check for the dark crescents that would indicate dirt. Carefully keeping your eyes from her you begin to clean them out, slowly, one by one. Then you unsuccessfully stifle a yawn.

The yawn is her undoing. 

She stamps her feet, screeches and casts about for objects to throw. A pot hits the wall, breaking free a large sliver of rock as it hits. Bones begin to fly and you use all of your concentration not to wince as they wing within inches of your head. Retaining your bored expression, you watch her fling every object within the cave until she finally settles upon pulling her own hair in aggravation. It comes out; tufts at a time in her gnarled hands, and you watch her with the expression of a man observing fruit flies during a particularly dry scientific experiment. 

She rushes towards you until her face is within inches of yours. "I... am... beautiful... and... desirable... beyond... belief!"

You laugh. 

The sound of it bounces off the walls of the cave. You place your right hand beneath her chin, lifting it slightly, so that you are gazing directly into her dark eyes.

"Beyond belief. Your words, not mine, but I couldn't have said it any better, old crone. And now, forgive me, but there are other, much more attractive, women waiting who can please me far more than an ugly hag." 

If it were possible for blood to boil hers would be bubbling. Her eyes narrow into venomous slits and drops of blood drip from her clenched fists. 

"You will acknowledge me as the most beauteous woman who ever lived or, God or not, I will kill you and cast your bones to the four winds!" 

She steps back and begins her transformation. Her scraggly white hair begins to darken and thicken before your eyes, while the wrinkles in her skin smooth out and disappear. Her posture straightens, stomach tightening, breasts lifting until every inch of her body is altered from old and decrepit to youthful and vigorous. At first you are totally mesmerized by the morphing process but as her final shape takes being you find yourself staring in awe and lust. 

She is drop dead gorgeous. 

Where Anne was beautiful, this woman is sex incarnate. Her silky long hair is as black as her eyes. Her olive skin is smooth and flawless. Her black eyes snap with fire and her lips are full, wet and red. But it is her body that draws you. The tattered, burlap-like cloth of her dress hangs in shreds from her womanly curves, only serving to offset the smoothness of her skin. She is of greater than medium height and statuesque with full, dark-nippled breasts. Your eyes are captivated by their plump shape. They are perfectly round and large enough that in another time you would suspect a surgeon's knife had perfected them. One is partially covered but the other isn't and her nipple, almost black, is long and juts out towards you, begging to be touched. She has a long, flat stomach and from beneath the ragged cloth hanging from her rounded hips you glimpse the shiny black hair covering her mound. You feel an erection rising that could lift and hold a hundred pound barbell. 

All you can think of is grabbing her and sinking into her flesh, pounding deeply into her while you run your hands all over her round, smooth surfaces. You want to fuck her now, this instant, and at this moment you don't care if she likes it or not. Her opulent, enticing body overwhelms you with need.

Then she opens her mouth. 

"Acknowledge it, now! I am as beautiful as any Goddess or mortal you have ever seen and all men who see me are filled with wanton lust for me." 

You cannot believe how coolly you manage to answer. Thankfully she hasn't looked any further down than your face or she would see the very clear evidence of your wanton lust for her. You want her but she is a witch. Perhaps using her body as you wish could prove difficult, or even dangerous. Yet there is hope. She is, after all, so incredibly vain and perhaps, with luck, not too intelligent. 

"Hmm. You do look better than before, but it is so difficult for me to truly compare you with a Goddess when every Goddess I have ever seen has been constrained. I am not accustomed to seeing any of them standing freely as you are. It makes a judgment difficult."

"Constrained? Why would a Goddess let herself be constrained?"

"Surely you don't believe that they go about as mere mortal women, wandering where they will? Oh no, they are far too lovely and valuable for that. We tie them up. Oh, they are so delightful when bound that we Gods cannot resist them. It makes them far more beautiful than they could ever be if they were not."

"I am as beautiful as a Goddess!"

"So you say, but alas, I cannot confirm it. Looking at you now, standing with your arms and legs so unrestricted I could never say that you are as beautiful as one of the divine few. Of course, if you were to let me bind you, say to that table in the corner, I would be able to make a true comparison." 

She tosses back her hair, "HahHah! I will show you then," and stomps over to the corner where the table sits. Then she turns (her body in motion is incredible) and says petulantly, "Alas, I have no rope. How shall you be able to bind me?" 

"Then I will use that ragged cloth you are pretending is a dress. Removing it will allow me to more fully view your beauty anyway." 

You easily rip the cloth from her body, uncovering the remaining flesh. Her pointed nipples are inches from your chest and you reach up to cup her breasts in your hands. They are warm and heavy and her skin is buttery soft. You run your hands over the front of her breasts, feeling her long nipples slide across the center of your palms. Closing your eyes for a moment you move your hands down her sides until they grasp her hips. You pull her body in, feeling delicious pressure on your cock as you grind against her. For a few seconds you forget how dangerous she is as you slide your hands even further down until they are cupping the taut cheeks of her ass. It feels wonderfully soft and smooth under your fingers.  




A Box, a Woman and Time Ch. 02



"What... do you think you are doing?" Her biting tone swiftly brings you back to the reality of your situation. Her narrowed eyes glare into yours. 

"I was testing you. Goddesses are always compliant. It enhances their splendor and makes us even more enamored of them. Now, Suhaylah, turn around."

When she turns and bends over the table, you almost swoon. Her ass is perfect: round and full and tight. With shaking hands you wrap the coarse cloth around her slender wrists and begin to tie them to the legs on the far side of the table. You are directly behind her, pushing up against her lovely bottom as you bend to the task. Your forehead begins to sweat from the effort of holding back but you manage to finish binding her so that she will remain bent over the table with her arms spread apart. 

Now it is time to tie her legs so that you will be fully safe. You kneel down. She has spread her legs but not far enough apart so you grab one ankle and pull it closer towards the table leg where you quickly tie it in place, then repeat your actions until she is fully restrained. You breathe a sigh of relief that you are safe but know better than to try to fool yourself into thinking that your motives were based purely on self-preservation. From this angle she looks even more incredibly luscious than before. You run your hands along the silkiness of her inner thighs and then up over the curves of her ass. Mmm. You lean in and put your nose between her legs, breathing in deeply her salty, sexy smell. You lick her gently, barely touching her pussy with the tip of your tongue, holding back for a moment before you taste her fully.

"What is that? What are you doing? Why aren't you comparing me to the Goddesses yet?"

"I am comparing you, Suhaylah darling. I must see if you taste of nectar as the Goddesses' do." 

Now you run your tongue up and down over her very wet lips, spreading her cheeks with your hands to get better access. She is getting wetter by the moment. Perhaps her mind doesn't realize yet what you're doing but her body is responding nicely. You push your tongue deep inside her pussy and she reacts by moaning and moving her hips, pushing back against your mouth. You flick her clit with your tongue and she jerks, startled, so you give it more attention, at first just licking, then sucking on it for several minutes, making her release a torrent of juice as she cums. 

She groans as she finishes and leans on the table to rest. Now you plan to enjoy more of that far too tempting body.

Still on your knees, you slide your hands up, and then back down her smooth back to the silky skin on her cheeks. Pulling them apart you see her star winking up at you. It is darker than the surrounding flesh, almost black like her nipples, and you are fascinated by it. 

It looks inviting so you decide to explore it with your tongue. Her reaction is strong – she cries out in shock. You lick harder, pushing your tongue into her ass, thankful for the coarse fabric binding her legs because she is pulling hard against her fetters. 

"Calm down, Suhaylah. This will not hurt you." 

"I'm not in pain. That is not... what you're doing... is not... surely the Gods don't do this!" Then she cries out again, "Oooohhhh!" as you begin to fuck her ass with your tongue, pressing as far into her tight canal as you can. Her musky ass is delicious. After several minutes of enjoying it with your tongue you give her hole a gentle kiss. 

Standing up, you admire the view of her voluptuous body, bent over the table with her arms and legs spread wide and bound, her plump ass shiny from your saliva and her pussy wet from her juices. 

You run a finger between her legs, between her lips and into her moist pussy before you pump it in and out a couple of times. Her knees begin to bend. Then you pull your now wet finger out and rim her tight hole. Around and around you go, feeling the puckered flesh with your fingertip until you finally push inside, working it in to your knuckle. It is incredibly tight and warm. You know your finger must feel large but she isn't complaining. She's breathing heavily and has her head turned, watching you from the corner of her eye. Her lips are parted and you see her move her tongue out to lick them. You pump her ass with your finger, watching how the skin grabs your digit and tries to hold it in. You want to put your aching dick in there so badly that it hurts... but not before you have her ready for you.

You pull your finger all the way out and run it down her crack slowly, back between her lips and along her wet cunt. Back and forth as she moans and rocks her hips. Then you thrust two fingers inside, fucking her cunt, making her cream even more but you pull out before she can cum again. Slowly you run your fingertips up to her asshole. You have to push hard to get both of your sopping fingers inside her at once but it is worth the effort. 

She groans and moans; at first trying to pull away again but the cloth has her bound too tight to escape. Then she begins slowly pushing back against your fingers, letting them further and further into her tight hole. As she rides your fingers, you reach around with your other hand to grab one of her tits, squeezing it hard between your fingers. It is so round and firm that your fingers almost slide off so you squeeze her nipple instead. She cries out with a mixture of pain and pleasure. Your cock is pushing hard against the cheek of her ass. It takes an effort for you to pull it free of your tights before you maneuver it between her legs. Pushing against her lips, you feel her wetness smear across the top of your cock as you hump her, still finger fucking her ass and squeezing her breast and nipple. 

Finally you can wait no longer. You know you can't last much longer without cumming and you have something more in mind than dry humping her pussy. You pull your two fingers from her ass and it makes a sucking sound as they pop free. 

With both hands you spread her cheeks wide apart and place the tip of your cock against her asshole. As you push your hips forward it slowly begins to move inside, not even an inch at a time. Using one hand on your cock to hold it steady, you push further and further into her unbelievably tight hole. She groans steadily as you push but you are mesmerized with watching your cock slowly disappear into her ass and barely register the sound. Achingly slowly you enter until at last your cock is fully embedded in her sultry ass. 

You have never been inside anything this hot and tight. Grabbing her hips you begin pulling yourself into her, pulling her onto you. In and out, slowly at first, watching your cock lengthen and shorten as it moves, you begin to find an easy rhythm. Every sensation in your body is centered on the feel of your cock sliding in and out of her snug ass. 

You speed up, pushing faster and harder until your balls slap against her at the end of every stroke. She pushes against you with the same rhythm, any thoughts of escape long gone as she relishes the feeling of you filling her. Ferociously you fuck, pressing flesh roughly against each other. The intensity of riding her threatens to overwhelm you but you're strong, even as Suhaylah's warm flesh heats up the entire length of your cock. But when she begins to cum she clenches her muscles, making the fit even snugger and you know that you are about to cum as well. With your hands still latched onto the soft flesh of her hips, you explode into her smooth, warm ass, draining your balls deep inside of her. 

It takes several minutes for the two of you to recover. You both collapse on the table, exhausted and drained from your sexual exertions. Finally your strength returns and you stand to admire her once more. Her sweat-sheened body glistens irresistibly so you slide your hands up and down her body, across her breasts, along her sides, returning again to feel the cheeks of her sweet ass. "Oh Baby. You really are incredible."

"Am I... as beautiful as a Goddess?" She asks you, turning her head to watch you with her dark, shining eyes. 

"More beautiful, Suhaylah, more beautiful than any Goddess I have even known. You were not meant to be a witch and live in this cold cave. You should share your beauty and use it to please mortal men and Gods alike."

"I am pleasing to you, truly?"

"Give me but a moment to recover and I will show you again how much!"

A sound intrudes, the hooves of many horses approaching. Hurriedly you pull up your tights and go to the mouth of the cave. Riding towards you is Betta, followed by those same large quarrelsome dirty men you remember from the castle. 

"Oh master, how happy I am to see you unharmed. I began to fear for you and brought your men hence to assist you if you needed..." her eyes break from your face and widen as she takes in Suhaylah, splayed, bound and bent over the table, your cum dripping from her ass and sliding slowly down her inner thigh.

"Why must it always be another?! Am I never to be the one who..."

You are back at your kitchen table, watching the box reseal and stunned once more by the swiftness of your return. Your mind can't cope with the instant change in scene and you sit, trying to find reality. For a little while you stare into space remembering Suhaylah... Betta... Anne...Betty. You blow a kiss to the box before you pick it up and return it to the closet. Just as you are mounting the stairs for a shower you hear the sound of your wife's car pulling up into the driveway.



A Box, a Woman and Time Ch. 03



In the ensuing weeks your mind returned again and again to the sensuous experiences that occurred when you opened the box. 

At night you relived again your stunningly erotic experience with the witch from Babylon, masturbating often in your lonely bed with the memory of what transpired replaying in your mind. During the day your thoughts turned more to trying to figure out the mystery of the box and the events that took place. 

You wondered what happened to Suhaylah after your abrupt departure and this lead you to wonder if you did indeed depart. Obviously you, yourself, the person inhabiting your brain left but did the master of the castle leave? Was everyone stunned to see a man disappear or did a man stay? Did the master, assuming he stayed, have any memory of fucking Suhaylah? Did he suddenly find himself standing outside of a cave with no recollection of having gone there? Did Suhaylah take your advice and change her ways? 

You tried to google Suhaylah and Betta but without any more information relating to the castle, its location or even the century you were in, you found very quickly how difficult it was to confirm whether or not they were real. But you went with the assumption that the castle, the cave and Suhaylah did truly exist because you knew that Anne had been a real person. So you continued to search, finally coming across an irritatingly brief reference to a Baroness Suhaylah, originally from the Middle East, who married an English Baron in 1337. The Baron inhabited Cairnvensey Castle in Sussex. 

Your search turned up no further information except for a reference or two to the tapestries that hung in the great hall and a battle that took place near there in 1501. It was little enough to go by, but you knew in your heart that the Suhaylah mentioned was the same one you dreamt of almost every night and were glad to know that she found happiness, or at least a more settled life. Perhaps the "master" did recall what occurred after all. Or else he too found her very tempting at a later point and was able to overlook the tempestuousness of her personality. 

You still remembered Anne and missed her and now you missed Suhaylah as well but in a much different way. Anne was beautiful inside and out and you knew that she was an once-in-a-lifetime kind of woman that any sane man could find himself eventually falling in love with. Suhaylah was too problematic with her temper and vanity to entrap your heart but she was also so intensely sexy and desirable that you knew she would haunt your dreams forever. 

But the greatest mystery of all was the woman you didn't sleep with, the woman who was in both times/places, the woman who always seemed to be the catalyst to both begin and end your adventures. Who was Betty/Betta? Was she the same person? A real person in some time and place? How did she relate to the box? 

You pondered both the inscrutability of her place within the scheme of your adventures and her, herself as a person. It seemed that each time you saw her you were attracted to her, very attracted to her, and comfortable in her presence. It seemed that she was attracted to you as well and each time became jealous when she found you with another woman. 

Still, you were a different man each time. How could the same person be attracted to both? It boggled your mind to the point that you finally made a conscious decision to quit trying to understand it. At times it would intrude. Brushing your teeth you would wonder whether she was related to the enigmatic figure who first presented you with the box. Stirring your coffee at work you would puzzle over why, if she were fully aware of what was occurring, she would leave you alone with two such magnificent women. 

And the box itself – still so strange and unearthly - but you weren't complaining. If this was an attempt by aliens to conduct some kind of mind control experiment on your species you were more than willing to be their guinea pig. Oh yes. You had no complaints at all in that department. In fact, your only concern now was longing for the privacy to utilize the box again and see what the next adventure would be. 

After five frustrating weeks, you finally managed to get your wife out of the house for a long enough period of time. She was going for the afternoon to a birthday party and you begged off, claiming some much needed computer time to keep from having to work late that week 

No sooner had her car disappeared from sight than you rushed to the closet to pull out the box. You thought for a moment of opening it in the bedroom or living room but having used the kitchen table twice successfully you felt strongly that you should follow the same procedure again. It was a superstitious notion but you didn't want to risk a different outcome by behaving differently. 

You placed your hands on either side of the box and breathed deeply and slowly, deliberately doing your best to calm yourself before once more taking the plunge. 

"Open Sesame." you said and immediately the box opened. As twice before, you slowly stood and looked down inside noticing a very interesting object just within that seemed to....

The kitchen disappears and you are surrounded by a milling throng of people in a huge space that is several stories high, surrounded by floor to ceiling windows. Your eye is drawn for a moment to the flowing ribbons that run along the ceiling and then down to the double bank of escalators at the far end of the room. All of the surfaces are clean and modern and the crowd is mostly composed of businessmen, oriental businessmen. It takes you a few seconds to realize that you've been here before. You're in the Narita airport in Tokyo. 

You were here once before as a teenage and it was one of the pivotal events of your young life. So many things about the Japanese culture struck you: the cleanliness of their public spaces, the unabashed advertisements for sex that both shocked and titillated you, their zeal for combining modern and ancient mores, the grandeur of their landscape and the delicate beauty of their women. 

And here you are again, as an adult, without a single friend or acquaintances in the country that you can contact for assistance. Pushed along by the crowd, you approach an area where a line of people stand, holding up signs, in English and Japanese, and you realize that they are there waiting to pick up incoming travelers. It would be nice if someone was there waiting for you. That could neatly solve your problem. You search the faces and smile when you recognize one.  

It is Betty/Betta, in a business suit, her brown hair shoulder length this time, and her wide, blue-grey eyes carefully scanning the crowd. It takes her a moment to spot you. When she does recognize you she doesn't smile or wave like the others, but waits patiently for you to reach her. 

"Right this way, Boss. I have the limo waiting." She turns and begins expertly weaving through the throng of people, turning her head slightly towards you as she continues to speak. "I've set the meeting up for first thing in the morning with the men from Shigoko. It will be in our boardroom, Sir. I thought that best given that your meeting tonight will be on their turf. 

"Bet..." you begin and hesitate. What is her name this time? Obviously she knows you and you don't want to offend her.

"Sir?"

"Bet..." you stop. This is ridiculous. Why can't she have the same name every time? Is this some type of cosmic joke? 

"Yes? Are you tired, Boss? I know it was a long flight from London. I'm sorry you won't have more time to relax before tonight but I thought surely you would be able to get some rest on the plane." 

You sigh. For some reason the name thing is harder to deal with in a modern setting. "Spell your name for me please. Humor me."

"B-e-t-t-e." she answers, her face lacking any trace of humor or curiosity at your request. 

"Ah, here we are, sir." 

She had led you efficiently through the airport to the outside of the terminal where a long, black limousine is waiting for you. The driver hurries around and holds open the back door for you and Bette. She waits for you to enter but you motion her in first and climb in after her. 

"Where are we going, to the hotel?"

"I'm afraid not, sir. There's not enough time. You'll have to go straight to tonight's meeting. I tried to have it arranged for later in the evening but he insisted that it begin at 6pm."

"And what am I supposed to do at this meeting tonight?"

"I'm not privy to all of the particulars. Mr. Goto was very adamant that this meeting is for you alone and that none of the rest of us are to attend. But, you know what will happen if we don't get this contract. It would be..." she glances at the limo Driver and lowers her voice "...the end for the Company. We're barely hanging on since the market shake-up in '81." 

"And we've had poor cash flow for the last..."

"Two years, Boss. You know we can't last much longer."

"1983. Thank you for not having big hair Bette."

"You're welcome sir. I have taken the liberty of condensing the financial information we found on both Shigoko Corporation and Mr.Goto into this brief report and have added pictures of the various officers so that you will recognize them tomorrow when..."

You wave a weary hand. Corporate meetings, financial reports – you can't imagine anything more dull. You may be scheduled for one, but preparing for it doesn't sound appealing in the least. You'd rather study Bette. 

The shortness of her hair makes it look fuller and the ends curl under to gently frame her innocent face. Her eyes are the same as you remember from before but overall she looks slightly different. It takes you a moment to realize that she is wearing makeup and you're thankful that she seems to have a light touch with it. Her complexion is clear and smooth naturally so it appears that she's only added a little brown eye shadow, mascara and lipstick. It looks good, but then she always looks good. You wonder for a brief moment why you never seem to hook up with this woman. 

It is her expression that is different this time. She is even more earnest and serious than before, which you would have scarcely thought possible. But of course, she is a businesswoman, not here in a role as a nurse or your servant. Obviously she is your executive secretary or assistant and so naturally she would be putting on her most serious mien. 

She has dressed the part, in a dark blue skirt and matching blazer. The skirt hit just above her knees when she was standing but seated as she is now, it has ridden up to mid thigh. Her long slender legs look every nice, especially in the stiletto-heeled blue pumps she's wearing. She notices you staring at her legs and tries to surreptitiously pull down her skirt. You smile inwardly at her antics. The crossing and uncrossing of her legs shows them even further to her advantage. 

Her blouse is cream-colored silk and just sheer enough that you can tell she is wearing a lace-topped camisole beneath it. Her breasts are hidden oh for those medieval fashions! but you can see how full they are even beneath her clothes and remember well how delectable they looked when they were more exposed. 

All in all, she looks damned good. Her angelic face contrasts intriguingly with her lush body. You stare at her, sensing her discomfort as she tries to ignore you, mentally undressing her and trying to guess what she would look like with her clothes all removed. What color are her nipples: dark like chocolate or lighter like coffee with cream? Is her bush curly or straight, full or sparse? Would she be quiet and serious in bed like she is out of it or would she suddenly become a wanton slut? You think about sliding your hand up her leg, beneath her skirt, to touch her outside her panties, and then running a finger inside them, finding her moist and ready...

"Boss?" Her soft voice interrupts your reverie. 

"Yes, Bette. Do you want something?"

She looks into your eyes, then down into her lap and you realize that she is blushing. She looks up once more into your eyes and begins to stammer, "I...yes...no...I mean... oh, sir, please don't look at me like that."

"Bette! It isn't like you to be so flustered. Haven't we worked together for a long time?"

"Yes, but..."

"And haven't we spent many hours alone together working late into the evening?"

"Yes, but..."

"And have you ever had a cause for complaint in my behavior towards you?"

"No, but..." 

"And don't I, as your employer, have the right to look your way and converse with you when I want to?"

"Yes, but...it's the way you were looking at me, sir."

"And how was I looking at you Bette?" 

She is silent for a moment, staring down at her hands as they twist in her lap. The auburn hair on her bent head hides her face from you. She is quiet for so long that you begin to believe she will not speak but at last she does, in a soft but steady voice. "I thought you were looking at me... as a woman."

"Bette, sweet Bette, look at me."

She raises her face to you and you see that her eyes are swimming with unfallen tears. They move you. You gently put your hands on either side of her face and pull her towards you. She parts her lips when you have her within inches of your face. You are finally going to kiss those sweet lips and hold her womanly body in your arms. 

"We're here, sir." announces the limo Driver. 

Bette closes her eyes in frustration. You watch her face for a moment, impressed by the control you see her taking over her disappointment. When she opens her eyes again you are captivated anew by their clarity.

"This meeting can wait. I'll have the driver drive us to the hotel instead."

"No, I can't let you do this." She sighs. "I wish more than anything that you didn't have to go. But...too many people are counting on this for us to let something like this interfere."

"I don't want to leave you Bette."

"I'll return for you with the driver later. Mr. Goto scheduled you from six to eleven. We'll come back for you then and maybe you and I can..." She is blushing again. 

"Finish what we didn't get to start."

"Yes, sir. Start what we didn't get to...do." 

You watch the limousine pull away with melancholy in your heart. She'll be back in five hours but you know that a lot can change in five hours time in this otherplace that the box sends you. It pulls around the corner and disappears from your sight making you sigh. 

Turning around you see a house, not the office building as you expected, and you are surprised to be standing in a residential area. Even with your limited knowledge of Japanese culture you realize that it is an honor indeed that Mr. Goto has invited you to his home for this first meeting. His house is low and wide, with huge timbers overhanging the sidewalls and a green, curved roof. The large front door, surrounded on either side by stone lanterns, is inviting and helps to curb your apprehension at meeting the unfamiliar businessman. 

You rap lightly beside the front door and soon hear muffled footsteps approaching. The door slides open and you are greeting by an elegant oriental woman of indeterminate age, dressed in an expensive, deep red, western-style dress. She bows. You bow. "Mrs. Goto..." you begin and she smiles wryly. 

"Follow me please." You hastily remove your shoes, following her through the genkan and into an adjoining room. Inside are two young Japanese girls, both in full kimonos, standing behind a low table covered with dishes and bowls. "Yoshiko." She points to the taller of the two girls, who then bows formally. "Megumi." The shorter girl bows.

Once more you bow such a formal, courteous custom and try to express yourself as politely as you can, "It is a great pleasure to meet the daughters of such as lovely lady as yourself, Mrs. Goto. I would like to..." 

But you are stopped short by her laughter. 

"Enjoy yourself." The older woman says and lets herself out through the sliding fusuma. You can still hear her laughing through the thin walls as her footsteps recede. You are slightly irritated and more than a little puzzled by her laughter. 'What is so damned funny about me trying to be polite to this family?' you mutter to yourself before you allow Yoshiko to gently guide you to the table. You study them as they prepare your meal.

Yoshiko is the taller girl and you assume she is slightly older than her sister. Her black, straight hair is twisted at the base of her skull but a few loose tendrils frame her face. She has a delicate, unadorned face and momentarily her sweet expression reminds you of Bette. She seems unsophisticated in a simple, pleasing way but is nevertheless a beauty and you admire the way her blue and silver kimono falls gracefully from her slender frame. 

Megumi is smaller and looks younger but more sophisticated and westernized. Her hair is not as dark as Yoshiko's; you can tell that she has lightened it somewhat to a dark brown, not the glossy black of most Japanese women. She is wearing makeup to accent her eyes and lips although you don't see the necessity of it. She is fragile and lovely, with her smooth complexion heightened by the soft peach of her flower-covered kimono. The lotus blossoms on the fabric can't match the daintiness of her fine features. 

They are both incredibly lovely and you look forward to however much of their company you get to enjoy this evening. You didn't anticipate meeting Mr. Goto's daughters and imagine that they're here to serve you dinner and then leave but in the meanwhile you plan to store their exquisite features in your memory for later thoughts. They look so young and innocent that you feel a twinge of guilt knowing that you intend to masturbate with their faces and bodies as the focal point of your fantasy later but this is an opportunity not likely to come your way again. 

The meal is simple but delicious. They don't eat with you but serve you every tasty morsel with chopsticks. Megumi and Yoshiko take turns refilling your sake cup each time you hold it up; giggling whenever you say "Kampai." 

It doesn't take you long to realize that neither girl speaks a work of English. Your Japanese is limited to four or five short phrases but you are all still able to communicate using gestures and facial expressions. 

The warm sake permeates your body, leaving you warm and relaxed. You find that you thoroughly enjoy having two women attending to your every wish. It is a new experience for you and you purposely linger over the meal, trying to extend your time with Yoshiko and Megumi. But Yoshiko once more gently guides you, this time up from the table and through another sliding door into another room. 

This room has a large tub in the center and no other furnishings. Steam rises from the square tub and fills the room with moisture. Suddenly a hot soak sounds like a wonderful idea. 

You begin to unbutton your shirt but Megumi pushes your hands down and steps close, her dark head barely coming up to your shoulder, her small, nimble fingers making short work of the job. She quickly removes your pants, pulling them down while you try vainly to figure out how you're going to hide the hard-on you've had for the past hour. When she pulls down your shorts your cock springs out within inches of her face. She gasps and quickly fires off a bullet-fast string of sentences in Japanese to her sister. They both begin giggling at your obvious discomfiture as you speedily step into the hot tub of water. 

"Thank you, girls, that's enough fun at my expense. Yoshiko, more sake please." 

Yoshiko points to the tray with your sake already sitting next to the tub. "Sake." She says in a lilting voice. She smiles at you and you smile back. 

Closing your eyes for a few seconds, you feel the heat of the water soak into your muscles as you settle into the steaming tub. When you open them, both girls are undressing, helping divest each other of their silk kimonos. For a moment you are shocked but then remember that in their culture it is common for men and women to bathe nude together. Still, you find yourself embarrassed and unsure of where to look. 




A Box, a Woman and Time Ch. 03



The room is small and there are two beautiful women disrobing right in front of you, pulling silk kimonos off soft shoulders, exposing petite breasts and slender hips while you try to look anywhere but at their tantalizing bodies. Once they are fully undressed you give up all pretense of not staring. Their crumpled kimonos lie in heaps on the tatami mat covering the floor and they each stand totally nude before you, the soft light casting shadows over their golden bodies, accentuating their soft curves. 

Yoshiko pulls several pins out of her hair and it tumbles past her shoulders. Her breasts are larger than Megumi's; still small by American standards but fine to your eyes, her areolas are dark and contrast nicely with her golden skin. Megumi's breasts are very petite and she has no hair at all covering her pussy. Perhaps she is slightly younger than the nineteen or so you estimated her to be. You fight the urge to touch yourself. Your cock is rock hard and you're thankful that the steaming water hides your amorous condition from the two innocent girls. 

As they enter the tub you smile, trying to hide your lustful thoughts. If Mr. Goto knew what you wanted to do to his sweet daughters he would probably run you through with a sword. 

Yoshiko's long hair floats upon the water as she moves slowly towards you. 

"That's close enough Yoshi; leave the nice American man some sanity please." 

Megumi moves in closer too and you groan. No man can be this tested and survive. These young women can't realize the effect they're having on your mind and your cock. It is all you can do not to reach out and pull them in close so that you can run your hands over their tender flesh. Megumi giggles as she draws within inches of your body. 

"No Megumi, honey, you've got to back off some. Have mercy child." 

You grasp her wrist and try to push her away but she slides up against you so that you feel her diminutive breasts pushing against your side. You can't believe that either girl understands what effect they're having or that they mean to purposefully torture you in this fashion right up to the second that Megumi's tiny fingers wrap around your cock. 

Yoshiko closes in on your other side and you feel their two young bodies pressed against yours while Megumi slides her fingers up and down your cock. Suddenly you feel the pressure increase and realize that Yoshiko has joined her; both girls are giving you the hand job of your life, running their hands up and down your stiff cock in unison. 

You try to resist the sensations, defy the overwhelming urge to give in to the intense physical pleasure their nimble hands are providing. Megumi, her petite breasts still pressed against your side, begins licking your ear, her pointed little tongue sending chills down your spine. Yoshiko teasingly begins licking your opposite ear. It is too much; with a groan you push up, thrusting your cock into their expert ministrations, throwing your arms around their tiny waists to pull them in tighter, crushing their breasts into you as you come, spurting a trail of white into the steaming water. 

"Girls! Girls! Let me catch my breath," you moan as they continue teasing your now spent cock. 

Yoshiko smiles warmly and you notice that one of her front teeth is slightly crooked. It endears her to you so you pull her into your lap and kiss her softly: once, twice, many times and then deeply, your tongues exploring one another's mouth. 

Her breath is sweet. Her eyes partially close so that you barely see a glint beneath her lashes and she clings to you, wrapping her slender arms tight around your waist. 

"Such a lovely girl..." you murmur and you bring your hands up to touch her breasts. You tease her as you rub her nipples between your fingers, watching as they lengthen in reaction to your touch. Lifting her up slightly her body is so light! you bring her breasts up to face level. 

You lick her nipples first, one after another, before you take one fully into your mouth. Her breast is soft and her nipple emerges stiffly from the center. You suck on it, both relaxed and excited by its feel on your mouth. From the corner of your eye you notice Megumi, her face close to yours, her mouth hanging open; eyes dusky with desire, avidly watching you suckle her sister's breast. 

For a millisecond you debate: is this wrong? should you encourage this? before your mind decides, go for it!  and you break from your pleasant perusal of Yoshiko's tits. Still holding the elder girl firmly in your lap, you pull Megumi's face into yours, kissing her deeply. 

Her mouth tastes different than Yoshiko's – more piquant than sweet – and it's smaller. 

Slowly, deliberately, you pull Megumi's head down to one of Yoshiko's exposed breasts. Yoshiko gasps and rattles off quickly in whispered Japanese. She sounds unsure and slightly angry. You cross your fingers. Megumi answers with two slow words.... and her pointed tongue darts out to curl around her sister's nipple. You feel Yoshiko's body stiffen in your arms and then relax. She moans and arches her back, thrusting her chest further towards Megumi who is now avidly licking Yoshiko's breast. 

You dare not close your eyes, fearing that your favorite fantasy, now being miraculously enacted before your eyes, will dissipate if you take your attention away for even an instant. Two beautiful, delicate young Japanese women are exploring each other for the first time and you can hardly contain your excitement at being privy to the moment. They are achingly lovely together, their soft, feminine bodies wet from the steaming bath. Your cock feels as hard as granite. 

Yoshiko is holding back. You can tell that she has enjoyed Megumi's tongue on her small breasts but she isn't making any moves to investigate her younger sister's body and you want both girls to fully take pleasure in each other while you watch them. Oh yes. Watch first and then join. But in order to do so you have to help Megumi get past the older girl's shyness and resistance. 

You climb out of the bath. 

"Yoshiko, Megumi – come with me."

Your voice breaks their attention from each other and they hurriedly climb from the bath to join you. Both girls grab thick towels and begin to dry you, easing the rough cloth over your skin while they stand beside you, naked and dripping on the tatami mat. Yoshiko seems ashamed that she was caught with her attention not focused on you. She refuses to meet your eyes as she dries your body. Megumi, definitely the saucier of the two, works much more slowly, smiling up at you occasionally with a glint in her eyes, especially when she uses her towel to dry your thighs and fully erect cock. 

"Oh my, I have been remiss, Megumi. You're far too pretty to ignore." 

You pull her hands down, exposing her tiny breasts and lean down to taste them. Her breasts are not as soft as Yoshiko's but they feel small and delightful in your mouth, especially her hard little nipples. You circle one with your tongue and then pull it between your teeth, biting softly and making her groan. Switching your focus to her other breast you do the same. As you softly suck and bite her nipple you run both hands down her smooth back until you feel her tight ass beneath your fingers. You squeeze her cheeks, pulling them up and apart and her moaning begins in earnest. Murmuring words in Japanese you don't understand, Megumi rubs her smooth, naked pussy against your thigh. You pull harder on her cheeks, holding her up as she runs her clit up and down your leg. 

After a minute you can sense that she is close to having an orgasm and you quickly release her and pull your leg away. She tries to follow it but you grasp her wrist and hold her back. She glares up at you, making you laugh. 

"Not so fast kitten." 

Her glare turns into a smile as she moves her other hand down between her thighs and furiously rubs her clit. 

"Nice try Megumi." You taunt her as you grab her other wrist. Now she has no way to rub herself and nothing to rub against and you can see the frustration on her face. 

Yoshiko is watching the two of you, fascinated, her body motionless; the forgotten towel still in her hand as she takes in the scene before her. 

Lifting Megumi's arms above her head you easily grab both of her small wrists in one hand, holding them high. Her straight hair, now almost completely fallen from its bounds, slides past her shoulders to partially cover her taut breasts, her small, hard nipples peeking through the dark brown strands. You pull her up further, so that she has to lift up to her toes to maintain her balance. With your free hand you tease her nipples, circling and pinching first the left, then the right before you slide your fingers slowly down her flat, still moist stomach. She watches your finger's slow progress with her dark eyes. Her breathing is heavy, making her sway slightly. Closer and closer you edge to her clit, running your fingers over one hip, then her thigh, wrapping around to feel the incredibly soft skin of her inner thigh; sliding your hand upwards to cup her pussy. 

You enjoy toying with her. The tension of waiting has both girls quietly watching your tortuously slow moving hand. You run one finger between her lips, releasing the silky moisture held there. Carefully avoiding her throbbing clitoris, now peeking out from beneath its hood, you run your fingertips up and down her yielding, downy lips. Megumi is so close to coming that you know one brush of your finger across her clitoris will bring her to release. But you don't intend to make her come and stop touching her entirely. 

She murmurs in Japanese. You've never heard the word before but you know what it means. "Please...." 

With your free hand you gently pull the towel from Yoshiko's grasp, dropping it to the floor. You nod your head and this time she doesn't hesitate. Yoshiko willingly kneels before her sister and you feel a surge of blood stiffen your cock at the sight. 

Yoshiko's fingers disappear between Megumi's slim, golden thighs as she tentatively runs the tip of her tongue across the top of Megumi's smooth lips. Megumi pushes into her tongue, moaning. You can feel Megumi trying to pull free of your grasp, to lower her hands and perhaps pull her sister's head further in but you hold tight, relishing your control over her; keeping her just on the edge of an orgasm. 

Yoshiko softly licks the other girl's pussy with her tongue and moans quietly while furtively stealing one hand over her own mound to caress her clit. She warms to the task, quickly becoming as passionate as her younger sister. The fingers of her other hand begin moving into and out of Megumi's pussy, two at a time. You can hear the liquid noise of her fingers sliding in and out and see the wetness from Megumi's pussy coating Yoshiko's fingers 

Both girls have momentarily forgotten your presence, so involved are they in their own and the others' desire. Yoshiko rubs herself ever faster, her breasts pressed hard against her sister as she buries her face deeply between the other girl's thighs. Megumi desperately tries to break free from your grasp and grind her clitoris against the older girl's face but you won't release her. As Yoshiko approaches orgasm she finally begins to suck on Megumi's clit. The younger girl's relief is palpable. She quickly comes in a powerful shaking orgasm, crying out with the intense release. Yoshiko joins her, moaning steadily as she comes. 

When you release Megumi's wrists she sinks gratefully with her heels on the floor. Her dark eyes meet your and she smiles. Tilting her head upwards she kisses you; then kneels to kiss her sister. On their knees, they press against each other, breasts to breasts, hips to hips, pussy to pussy. Now you have what you want, both girls fully enjoying each other and you are ready to join them and sample their young bodies for yourself. 

You ease Megumi down on her back and spread her legs. She is a beautiful sight, her hairless pussy glistens in the dim light, her tiny breasts and slender hips are feminine and graceful. Bending down you taste her, taking your time as you lick her pussy, enjoying the texture of her silky juice and swollen lips under your tongue. She is drenched from her strong orgasm. You lick her mound. Never before have you been with a completely shaven woman. You always thought it would be too reminiscent of a child and turn you off but Megumi is so womanly and feminine that you find her smoothness pleasurable. Every inch of her is open to you. You like it. 

From her pussy you move down to flick her ass with the tip of your tongue. Megumi responds quickly, spreading her legs further apart to give you better access. 

You bury your tongue inside her ass making her squirm with pleasure. Her juice there is almost as sweet as her pussy. You could spend hours tasting her. But you have other plans for the two girls. 

You pantomime what you want to see next and they both catch on quickly. Yoshiko lays down on the mat, her black hair spread out and framing her sweet face. You pull her slim legs apart. She giggles shyly but keeps them open, fully exposing her pussy. Megumi lies between the other girl's legs and slides her hands beneath Yoshiko's cheeks, eager to eat her sister. She doesn't hesitate, thrusting her tongue deep into Yoshiko as she pulls Yoshi's pussy up towards her mouth. Yoshiko grinds against her sister, softly moaning as she pushes up towards her. 

Soon Megumi is moaning herself and rocking her hips as she enjoys the older girl's cunt. The sight of her ass moving as she rocks is incredible. The delicate, curled edges of red inner lips are clearly visible between her legs. You can't wait to fuck her. 

Kneeling behind Megumi, you grab her hips and pull her pussy onto your cock, easing into her. She is tight and wonderfully snug. You slowly fuck her as she continues to eat Yoshiko. With each push, Megumi is rocked further into Yoshiko's pussy and soon you all fall into an easy rhythm. You love fucking one woman while she eats another one. This has long been one of your fantasies and the reality of it is even better than you dreamed. 

Both girls are moaning urgently. Megumi is pushing back against your cock on every stroke, letting you sink fully into her tight hole. Yoshiko has her hands in Megumi's hair, pushing against Megumi in the same rhythm. 

You come strongly, pushing deep into Megumi's drenched cunt, trying your best to split her with the force of your cock as you pound away. 

It takes you a moment to recover. When you finally slide out of Megumi's deliciously tight pussy she crumples to the floor, spent as well and rests her small dark head against Yoshiko's stomach. You lay beside them, leaning up on one elbow to admire their loveliness as you catch your breath. 

A discrete rap on the fusuma makes both girls jump up and scatter, hurriedly grabbing kimonos and reclothing you. You kiss them goodbye, one after another then pull them both in together. They feel small and delicate against your chest. You want to stay but Yoshiko fearfully rushes you towards the door. 

As you cast a last glance at them Megumi winks at you; Yoshiko waves shyly and smiles. 

Sliding open the door back into the dining area you find Mrs. Goto waiting for you. Your nervousness at seeing her is only slightly less than your relief that it wasn't Mr. Goto waiting there. What will happen if she realizes that you just had sex with both of her daughters? 

"Your time to depart is coming soon. Come with me to the genkan and we will wait together for your limousine." You worriedly follow her to what in America would be called the foyer. 

Did my girls help you to enjoy yourself this evening?"

"Yes, Ma'm, they were delightful, lovely creatures and made me feel very welcome. You must be proud to have such beautiful daughters."

One corner of her mouth twists in secret humor as she answers, "Sometimes proud, yes. Sometimes envious. Young women are very beautiful and get much attention because of this but they can be lacking in knowledge and experience. I hope that you have assisted them in gaining both?"

Ah, I, yes... I tried to do so, ma'am."

"And teaching has its own rewards does it not?"

"That it does Mrs. Goto."

"Yes. You are a fine man, much taller than most Japanese." She cocks her head and studies your face for a moment, still smiling as if at some inward joke of which only she is aware. "I think you have time for one more lesson this evening – but this time, I will be the teacher."

She lowers her silk-stocking encased knees to the floor and expertly unbuckles your belt before you have a chance to fully realize her intentions. Within seconds she has pulled down your trousers and boxers and is objectively examining your cock. 

"Very, very nice." She murmurs as she wraps her fingers around the base, moving it left and right, within inches of her sophisticated, made-up face. Pressing her nose against you she laughs softly 

"Smells like young pussy. You have been a busy man tonight." 

She runs her tongue broadly over the top of your shaft, circling downwards from there, and then licks a complete circle under the head with just the tip of her tongue. Moving her head down, she pushes hard against your vein, from the very base of your cock where it is nestled in your thick, curly hair, slowly up until she has her tongue on just the tip again, all the while following her tongue up your cock with a firm grip. By the time she reaches the top you are hard again and her firm grip squeezes a few drops of pre-cum out, where it glistens in the light. 

"Mmm," she moans as she squeezes harder on your cock. She touches the pre-cum with the tip of her tongue, grabbing its viscous surface and pulling away so that a thin line of cum runs the few centimeters from your cock to her tongue. 

She looks up at you and smiles and it is one of the sexiest sights you have ever seen: the ageless and sophisticated Mrs. Goto, on her knees with her bright red lips parted, her satin-encased breasts heaving with carnal excitement, your pre-cum coating the end of her pink tongue and her dark, oriental eyes shining with pure wickedness and desire.

"Suck me. Suck me hard!" You say in a guttural voice and she quickly complies, wrapping her ruby lips around your cock and lowering her head so that half of it is filling her mouth. Up and down she moves, her cheeks concave, as she presses her lips against your shaft, sucking in on every outward stroke. You grab the back of her head with both hands, your fingers deep in her silky black hair, pulling her deeper onto your aching cock. The warmth of her mouth, the pressure of her lips, the incredible sensations of her sucking you – you've never had a blowjob like this in your life. 

Eyes closed, you throw back your head and pump harder and further into her moist and willing mouth. You cry out, "Suck me, oh yes, oh god yes!" 

She has tilted her head to open her throat and now you are going deep, the entire length of your shaft disappearing between her full, red lips: the end of your cock touching the back of her throat, beyond her tonsils as you fuck her mouth. Harder, deeper, faster you go until you feel your balls boiling with cum. A few more strokes and you unload into her, spewing your cum deep into her velvety throat. She sucks you dry, draining every bit of cum from deep within your balls, swallowing every drop. 

When she has thoroughly cleaned your cock, licking every inch with her clever tongue, she kisses you goodbye, still on her knees before you. She presses her breasts against your thighs, her hands cupping your ass, her soft ruby lips lingering over the shaft of your diminishing cock. 

It is at that moment that the subdued knocking that has been occurring for the past several minutes finally sinks into your conscious mind. Suddenly, a cool, moist current of air sweeps past you and you glance up, past Mrs. Goto's kneeling form to the open front door. There stands Bette and the limo Driver: his poised face a study in deliberate discretion, hers shocked and anguished. You see in your own mind's eye the tableau before them: you, your cock fully exposed, and pants down about your ankles, Mrs. Goto on her knees, her hands still grasping your ass, and her lips within inches of your cock. 




A Box, a Woman and Time Ch. 03



Bette's outraged voice crosses the space between you, "I've never wanted anyone but you and you never, ever wait for me! I can't take this anymore!" 

As swiftly as ever before the walls of the room disappear and you are standing beside your kitchen table, looking across it and directly into the cold, hate-filled eyes of your wife. She stands stock still, as you do, with the slowly closing box on the table between you.



A Box, a Woman and Time Ch. 04



It struck you as you were sitting at your desk, trying hard to stay awake during what was undoubtedly the dullest Webex in the history of the world, and drinking a cup of far too weak coffee. Your wife was gone and had left in her place a demand for your few possessions and for a hefty percentage of your paycheck from now until the end of time. The box and whatever magic it contained was gone; destroyed by her in a fit of rage after your last return from the otherplace. 

No longer would you go through time and space to have incredible sex with a beautiful woman or women after having spent an average of fifteen minutes in their presence; something that had been so far removed from your typical experience with the opposite sex as to make you began to doubt the reality of what happened and your sanity. 

Yet surely if you were without reason and mentally inhabiting a fantasy world you would now be picturing yourself somewhere other than this messy office with a lukewarm cup of coffee in your hand. There had never been anything special enough about you to justify the remarkable turn your life had taken with the discovery of the box. But what was at first frightening, then curious and finally customary had become a part of you and you mourned the loss of it almost as much as if not more than the disintegration of your unhappy marriage. 

So you wrapped yourself up in your work, and dragged yourself home each night: tired, listless and decaffeinated: cut off from all emotion; your life reduced to a mindless slog of going through the motions. 

And time passed.

One night you ran out to the grocery store to restock a few items. Moisture saturated the air, making the balmy night feel velvety and smooth. A bright moon hung in the cloudless sky and you found yourself feeling glad to be alive. Not overjoyed or ecstatic or blissful but filled with enough positive emotion that you realized happiness was something you hadn't felt in a long time, even before the divorce. And that small amount of happiness was enough. 

You made your purchases, throwing in a bottle of Yellowtail Shiraz, as a celebration of life returning and stepped out into the gentle evening air. 

A truck was parked just in front of the door, with a large Krispy Kreme sign and enormously disproportionate glazed donuts. As you stepped behind the truck you noticed that one of the back doors was open and the pleasant smell of donuts was wafting out. Swinging your small plastic bag a little and thinking of how satisfying it would be to sit on the front porch and drink some wine later you stepped off the curb.

A dark figure appeared at your side. 

"Into the truck." 

"Hey, you can't..."

"Now. Into the truck." The command was punctuated with a sudden jab in your side of what might be a weapon. 

You were about to twist and run when another figure appeared from inside the back of the truck and pointed a rifle at you. Definitely a weapon. 

You clambered into the back of the truck, the rifle still pointed at you from close range, your heart pounding furiously and your spine icy cold with fright. The smaller figure with the rifle motioned you further into the truck and you took a few steps closer to the plastic racks filled with donut boxes. 

The smell of fresh glazed donuts was strong and mixed incongruously with your fear. 

The backdoor swung shut and you heard the steel rod slide to lock it shut from outside. Now you were trapped in the back of the truck with 2700 boxes of donuts and a mysterious figure coolly training the business end of a rifle on your chest. A dim light shone from the front, just enough to break the darkness but not enough to show any details. When the truck jerked away from the curb, it almost threw you off balance but you grabbed the nearest rack and held on. The smaller figure seemed to have the reflexes of a cat and held steady on two feet, the rifle barrel swaying only an inch of so – still steadily trained on your chest. 

"Who are you?" 

"Don't ask who I am, you're better off not knowing."

It was a woman's voice. 

"Why have you kidnapped me?"

"Sorry, that's classified."

An eerily familiar woman's voice. Why would the voice of this (criminal? CIA agent? PETA person gone insane?) woman sound familiar to you? You racked your brain trying to place the voice and it helped to calm you enough that your breathing slowed to an almost normal rate. 

"Where are you taking me?"

"Sorry. Classified."

"Look, whatever's going on I can help you. I'm a reporter. Tell me your story and I'll make sure everyone hears about it and understands where you're coming from."

"Really, Joe? How odd, considering that just a few hours ago you were an Office Manager."

That shuts you up and you concentrate instead on maintaining your balance and keeping your fear to a manageable level. You assume that whatever their destination it will be nearby but the truck careens speedily about for what feels like hours. You exchange no more words with the woman holding you captive. She is quiet but alert and the barrel of her rifle never wavers from you. You study her as best you can in the dim light, but her face is hidden by a dark Ninja mask. Her body is slender but not petite. Her clothing reveals nothing other than her general size. 

The truck finally slows to a stop and the back doors open. The woman motions you out and you jump down from the truck, sucking in large breaths of the night air, relieved as the scent of aquatic decay replaces the overly sweet smell of donuts, now forever linked in your mind with alarm and misery. 

The woman and driver lead you into a nearby building, large and looming, and as you step inside the driver stays back but the woman follows you in. The cavernous inside is inky black except for a pool of yellow light from a desk lamp. And behind the desk is a figure, enigmatic, genderless and unknowable. 

It's kismet. Suddenly everything clicks into place, like tumblers falling in a safe and your fear departs. 

You walk steadily towards the desk and wait. The woman follows you and stands just behind you and to your right, you can see her motionless form from the corner of your eye, her rifle now relaxed and pointing towards your knees. 

WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH THE BOX

"It no longer exists."

THAT IS IMPOSSIBLE 

"My ex-wife destroyed it." 

IT CAN NOT BE DESTROYED

"She attacked it with a hatchet and then threw it into a trash dumpster. It's gone."

YOU MUST RETURN IT

"I can't."

The figure motions to the woman. She nods and once more raises her firearm. 

"Go that way." She says and points towards back towards the front door. 

"Oh not the fucking donuts again. Come on." 

When you hesitate she pokes you with its steely tip. You turn to argue and a sudden pain erupts in your head. Your last thought is "What the..." as you crumple to the floor. 

---------

You come to, groggy, and find you can't move your limbs. At first you think you're still unconscious but quickly realize that you're bound. You are spread-eagled on your back with your ankles and wrists tied to bedposts and you're completely naked. You feel vulnerable and exposed. Cool air from a register in the ceiling flows over you, chilling your skin and heightening your awareness of your exposure. 

The pain in your head is thankfully gone and you spend a few minutes wondering who hit you. It can't have been the woman, she was in front of you when you turned; it must have been the driver. 

Testing the smooth ropes that bind you, you find that pulling against them is of no avail. You wonder how long you will have to wait until someone comes into the room with you. You wonder what their plans are for you. You wonder who removed your clothes and tied you up. Was it the woman? You hope it was she and not a man. Oh God, you think, please don't let a man walk in here with me naked and tied up. Your mind pictures a beefy, rock-faced brute walking in with a smile on his face as he unzips his pants

You're scared again. Scared and very worried about what will happen next, the fear highlighted by your helplessness and nudity. You start wishing you could somehow pull your cock and balls into or under your body instead of having them up there and so...easily available. You start picturing large metal objects with sharp blades and realize that you're very close to panicking but your struggle against the ropes that bind you only succeeds in tightening them.

The door opens. In walks the ninja woman and your relief is palpable. 

She walks to the side of your bed and looks down at you, silently, her head turning as she takes in every inch of your body, slowly, head to toe. Goosebumps rise on your skin and you feel vulnerable yet strangely excited too by her perusal of your naked body. 

"You refused to give the location of the box."

"No, I told the truth. My ex-wife destroyed it and threw it away. It's probably at the city dump by now." 

"You refused to give the location of the box and now you have to face the consequences."

"Wh-what consequences?"

"Effective consequences." She leans over until her eyes, still hidden from you behind her mask, are inches from yours and slowly runs one hand down your chest, over your navel and your lower stomach until she reaches your penis and slowly circles the tip with her finger. "You'll sing like a bird before I'm done with you." 

Your testicles try to shrink up into your body. Somehow you knew it was going to have something to do with your penis. Please don't let her cut it off, please don't let her cut it off you begin praying.

"This is your last chance. Tell me know what we want to know and I'll release you. Otherwise..." 

She straightens up and pulls off her hood in one motion, revealing her lovely face as her long brown hair tumbles down past her shoulders. Her blue-grey eyes meet yours and you whisper her name.

"Betty."

One side of her mouth twists up in amusement. "'fraid you got the wrong girl. I'm not Betty; I'm the agent who's going to torture you."

She steps back from the bed and reaches behind her back loosening the top of her ninja garment. You watch as she lifts it over her head and throws it on the floor, leaving her shoulders bare above the lacy black top of her camisole. She puts her hands on her breasts, squeezing them gently and then running her hands over them in circles before concentrating on her nipples, making them rise prominently beneath the silk fabric. 

You watch; fascinated, confused and feeling slightly more hopeful that you'll get to retain your dick.

She begins slowly rocking her hips, tilting her head to one side, eyes closed, as she continues playing with her nipples. One hand snakes slowly down her flat stomach and under the waistline of her pants; you can see the outline of her hand beneath the dark fabric as she pushes it down to cup her mound. She moans softly as she begins to rub herself. 

You groan. 

She opens her eyes and stops her hips in mid-motion. "Are you ready to spill your guts yet?" 

"Huh?"

She sighs. "I guess not."

Now keeping her eyes focused on you she begins rubbing herself between her legs in motion with rocking her pelvis backwards and forwards. Her eyes drift shut as she moves, the hand on her breast slowing down as she concentrates on rubbing her mound. Her tongue licks her lips. She pulls her hand up from beneath her pants and turns her back to you, bending slightly at the waist and slipping her thumbs under the waistline of her pants on either side. You watch as she slowly pulls them down, past her hips and the rounded curves of her ass until they slip over her thighs and fall in a soft whisper of cloth to her ankles. She kicks them off, her back still towards you, and you stare from the tiny triangle top of her black thong to the point where the string disappears between the rounded cheeks of her ass. 

She straightens and turns her head to look back at you, one hand on her hip in a pose reminiscent of another Betty. Her gaze falls to your cock, standing at attention, between your legs. "Had enough?"

"Hell no. Keep going." 

"You think you're a tough guy, huh? I've broken stronger men than you. You won't be able to hold out much longer."

"Wait a minute." You laugh. "Are you trying to tell me that THIS is the torture?"

Her brow furrows in annoyance, as she turns further toward you. "Of course it is. What do you think I'm doing, playing games here? Don't try to pretend this isn't getting to you when I can plainly see your reaction pointing up there. Where is the box?"

"I'm not telling you anything. You're going to have to work a lot harder than this to get any information out of me."

"I'm warning you. I can go as long as it takes."

"I'm counting on it, doll."

She narrows her eyes slightly, trying to intimidate you with her glance, but it doesn't work. She's too pretty and it's impossible to feel anything but horny, as you look at her curvaceous body in a black thong and camisole. 

She tosses her hair, and then pulls it up from her shoulders and neck, holding the brown tresses behind her head with one hand. You admire her slender neck and the curvature of her shoulders before she releases them again to fall again down her back. 

She turns her back to you again and slowly bends over. Her legs are long and lean, her calves taut even without heels. She runs her hands up and down the cheeks of her ass before she pulls the string of her black thong slowly down. Carefully removing the thong she throws it behind her. It lands beside you, near enough for you to smell her scent. You lose yourself for a moment in thoughts of licking the crotch, wishing that it had landed over your face. 

Turning her head so that you can see her actions she pushes an index finger into her mouth and sucks on it before pulling it very slowly back out. She puts her hand at the top of her ass and runs her wet finger slowly down between her cheeks. She rests it on her button. Her hips begin rocking again. 

You groan and start rocking yours, aching for something to rub against your cock. She looks into your eyes, her expression dreamy as she pushes her finger into her ass. She moans and her knees begin to bend. You can see her other hand, peeking out from beneath her legs as she rubs her pussy and the light catches the gleam of moisture there. Her finger begins to disappear into her ass, first the tip, then further, past her knuckle. 

Oh God, you want this so bad. She's so hot. You're so horny. It feels like you're going to die without any kind of release.

"Come closer," you say breathily. "I want to see you closer."

She pulls her hands away and looks at you, her eyelids half closed with desire. She climbs up on the bed, straddling your hips with her thighs. Reaching under her camisole she pulls out first one, then the other breast so that they are resting on top of the lace, the fabric pulled tight beneath them. Her nipples are hard, her areola many shades lighter than the brown of her hair and the skin on her breasts is creamy white. You want them in your mouth, under your hand, crushed against your chest. 

She puts both hands between her legs and pulls apart her lips, exposing the pink, wet flesh inside of her outer lips. Once again she begins rubbing herself, ignoring your presence as she pleasures herself, her breathing faster, her lovely breasts heaving up and down. The fingers on both of her hands are wet from her juices. You can see her clit peeking out from beneath its hood and you long to pull it into your mouth; taste her. 

Just when you think she is about to cum she falls forward, catching herself with her breasts just inches from your face. Her nipples point straight towards you. This close up you can see the tiny goose bumps on her areola and the way they're slightly puckered near the nipples. Her breasts look soft and heavy. 

"Come closer, I want to touch you."

"No."

"Yes, come closer." You push up with your hips but she is agonizingly out of reach. "I need to feel you"

"No."

"YES! Oh God, you have to come closer. You're torturing me."

Her lips curve up in a wry smile. "That's the point, Joe. Where is the box?"

She scoots her body further up the bed so that her pussy is right above your face, close enough that you can smell her musky scent, close enough that you can see each drop of moisture. She's still rocking her hips; each movement brings her closer to you though still tantalizingly out of reach. 

You know she isn't faking her desire. She has to want release as badly as you do. 

"Come just a little bit closer baby, hmmm, I won't hurt you. Just a little bit closer so I can lick you."

"Ohhh," she moans in a soft and sexy voice. "No, I can't ... the box..."

"Closer" you whisper. "I'll make you cum." 

She lowers her pussy closer to your face. You reach out with your tongue, finally making contact and she gasps. Her taste is wonderful, the sweetest you've ever known. As your warm tongue plies up and down her open lips she pushes down further, but only for a moment before she pulls up, out of your reach, again. You strain against the ropes, trying desperately to gain another inch but they hold you tight. She pulls up again and you watch her slide her knees further down your body so that they are alongside your thighs. Her arms are still on either side of your neck as she lowers her face towards you. Her hair rubs softly against your shoulders and neck. 

With her lips just above yours she whispers, "Joe...I want you."

"Yes."

"I want to fuck you, hard."

"Yes."

"I want to slide down over your cock until you are as deep inside me as you can go. Then I'll slide up and down, again and again, and it will feel soooo good to both of us."

"Yes, oh yes."

"Do you want me to fuck you?"

"Yes, you know I do. Now, do it now."

"Ohhh, yes. I'm so close to cumming. I want to make you cum, feel you cum inside me."

"God yes! Fuck me now!"

"Joe... where is the box?"

"Aaaaarrrrrgggggg!" You yell in frustration. "I don't have the damned box! I don't know where the damned box is! I don't care if it lives or dies! I just want you!" 

She pulls away from your face and bending her head, trails her long hair down your neck, chest, and stomach until she is brushing it against your cock, the locks sweeping over you as she gently turns her head from side to side. Even that slight sensation electrifies you. You moan, feeling every individual hair as it touches your aching cock. She lowers her face and licks the head, swirling her tongue around until it is covered with a mixture of her saliva and your precum. Her tongue is warm. You want more of it but she pulls back and blows across the wetted head. Every nerve in your body is centered on the tip of your cock, waiting, hoping that she will do more, give you the friction you so desperately need.  

"Joe..."

"WHAT!"

"I can't do this anymore. It isn't fair."

You sigh in relief. 

"If I don't cum soon I'm going to explode." She says as she rises from the bed and hurries towards the door.

"But wait! What about me? Don't leave..." The door shuts behind her "...me." 

You lie and wait. The room is quiet except for your breathing and the distant sound of the air conditioning unit. You try the ropes again but to no avail. You look at the door, willing her to walk back through it. Seconds tick past: ten, twenty, sixty.

The door flies open and she appears: a large purple dildo in her hand. 

"Scoot over."

"I can't scoot over. I'm tied up."

"Then hold still and be quiet will you? I'm in kind of a hurry here."

She crawls over you and throws herself on the bed beside you, spreading her legs wide. Closing her eyes she poises the dildo at the entrance of her pussy. With one hand she spreads her outer lips, showing her wet, pink inner ones while with the other she pushes in the dildo, making it disappear slowly inside her. Once she has it halfway inside she pulls it out slowly and you can see her moisture coating the hard surface. She pushes it in and out again several times but you can tell by the expression on her face that she isn't getting a lot of pleasure from it. 




A Box, a Woman and Time Ch. 04



"That doesn't seem to be working too well for you."

She sighs. "I hate dildos."

"They're nasty, hard, unfeeling things."

Her blue-grey eyes meet yours. "I like you."

"I like you too. I always have."

"I'm not supposed to actually get you off. But, maybe if we just did it for a minute or two it wouldn't count."

"My lips are sealed." 

She throws the dildo down and climbs back up to straddle your hips. Firmly grasping the shaft of your cock, she slides her hand from the bottom all the way up and pushes pre-cum out of the tip. She rubs the precum around the head with her index finger, then leans down and licks it off, looking up at you as she does so. 

"Mmm, tasty." 

Then she rises to her knees so that her pussy is poised a few bare inches above your cock and whispers,

"I'm going to fuck you.... hard"

The tension in your body is strong, aching, your cock trying to stretch out further to touch her pussy and slip within its warm depths. She hovers over you, her eyelids half closed with desire, drawing out the exquisite tension of the moment. Her hands slide up her body, over her flat stomach, lifting up the bottom of her camisole to show her navel and then up further, as she pulls it out and up. It catches her hair as she pulls it, momentarily pulling it above her head, only to tumble down again as, her camisole now completely removed, she tosses it behind her. She licks her lips. You wait, breathing heavily, feeling almost drugged by the strength of your desire for her. 

With testicle-tingling slowness, she glides down over your cock, swallowing you unhurriedly until you are deep inside her pussy. Her pussy is warm and tight: her body soft and smooth where it touches yours. As she lifts up and slides down again and again her fingers drift over your chest and arms, caressing your nipples, tracing a line down the center of your chest and stomach. Every touch and caress feels electric, so attuned is your every nerve to her touch. She is so perfectly positioned above you that her body is almost weightless on yours. 

You give in to her ardent control, pulling against the ropes without realizing it as you clench your muscles and groan under her expert ministrations. She makes every move: grinding, sliding, up and down, backwards and forwards, clutching and releasing as you concentrate on the incredible sensation of your cock in her pussy and watch her ample breasts jiggle and sway with her every move. Her soft, warm lips feel like heaven on yours as she leans down and kisses you. She licks you and whispers in your ear, telling you how good what she's doing feels, how good you feel inside of her. She tells you how much she likes fucking you in language that leaves no doubt of her sincerity. 

You can feel the bump of her clit grind through your springy hair, against you. Your cock, heated up from the friction feels too good to resist her any longer. 

You hold out as long as you can but when she comes, crying out your name and clamping down even tighter on your cock as the walls of her pussy clench in waves from her orgasm you let yourself go, hot spurts of your cum shooting deep inside her. 

With a loose groan she stretches out on top of you. You both lie quietly for several minutes, exhausted from the ecstasy of your orgasms and enjoying the feel the intense heat between your bodies, the combined sweat of your lovemaking and the musky scent of sex. The moment was perfect except for the ropes that prevented you from being able to hold her.

You are about to speak, to tell her... what? That you suspect that you love her? That the far from mindless sex you just had with her was better than anything else you'd had in your life? That as wonderful and sexy as being completely in her control was, you are now aching to be able to move your hands and touch her, feel her, run your fingers over her soft skin?

Just as you are about to speak the sudden intrusion of a static-laced voice startles you both, making you jump. "Bethany, pick up please."

She leans over your body, reaching over to pull open a drawer from the bedside table from which she extradites a handset. 

You watch her face as she listens intently. "Uh huh. Uh huh. That IS good news. Are you sure?" Her eyes cut to you. "Yes sir." 

She hangs up the handset and pushes the drawer closed slowly. You look at each other.

"Bethany?"

"Yes."

"Really and truly, your parents named you that when you were born, Bethany?" 

"Really and truly."

She smiles. Her warm happy smile infuses her face with delight and you suddenly realize that you have never seen her smile before. You've seen her face in sadness, seriousness, lust and anger (oh, about three times) but never happy. Never grinning charmingly like she is now, her eyes glinting with glee, as she gazes down at you.

"Bethany, you have a beautiful smile. It makes you even prettier."

She bends down to kiss the tip of your nose, and then her soft lips linger over yours for a moment. "Thank you, Joe you're awfully sweet." Her smile becomes even more dazzling, flashing straight white teeth. "I'll always remember this as the best assignment I've ever had."

She's rubbing your shoulders with her soft hands, her full breasts swaying distractingly with the motion. You stir a little beneath her, shifting your pelvis slightly; aware that your cock is beginning to get tumescent again but too intrigued by her last sentence to let the matter drop. Her hands have moved down from your shoulders and she's lightly circling your nipples with her fingertips. 

"Wait a minute." You shift up slightly and she lifts her hands. You're so curious that you hardly know where to start. "Are you a spy or something?"

"Or something."

"Why did you take me at gunpoint with you in a Krispy Kreme truck without any regard for my feelings?"

She laughs softly. "I took you here in this bed just a few minutes ago. You seemed to enjoy it well enough. Did I hurt your feelings?"

"Ah...no." But you can't let it drop. "And you have been in the kidnapping people at gunpoint business for how long?"

"Don't make such a big deal of it, Joe. It's done, I never intended to cause you any harm and here we are." She has resumed circling your nipples and you feel goose bumps rise on your chest and arms. "I couldn't be happier."

"Are you going to kill me?"

"Good grief no."

"Don't I know too much?" 

She laughs. "We don't even know too much. It's all still a mystery and Whatsit out there," she jerks a thumb to the door, "isn't talking." 

"So what do you intend to do with me?"

"Let you go. Say goodbye. Miss you."

Her words cause a sudden sinking feeling in your stomach. 

It isn't fair to have to sort all this out with her naked body on top of you. Much less when you have to deal with nipple stimulation, goose bumps and a steadily hardening cock. But you try. "Bethany, honey, stop that for a moment. I'm trying to understand you here and I'm having a little difficulty grasping everything."

She lifts her fingers from your nipples again. "Yes sir, Joe. Look, no hands." She lifts her slender hands into the air. Then a deliciously wicked grin appears on her innocent face as she grinds her pussy against your cock. "All better, darling?" 

Oh God, she feels good. 

"This is certainly a side of you I haven't seen before."

"Do you like it?"

"Yes, actually it's pretty nice. You're very playful. I like that. But Bethany, I really, really want to know what's going on here. Will you please quit deliberately distracting me and explain everything. Then, I promise, we'll do anything and everything you want. And then some. OK?"

"OK, Joe. I'll be good." 

She stops grinding against you but the pressure of her weight on you still feels very pleasant. You try hard to ignore it, and her pretty tits. 

"The box you had isn't the only one. There are five of them, scattered around the world. They seem to want to go from person to person because no ever keeps them for very long. I think six months has been the longest. Everyone who gets one has a different experience with it. Were you told that you would learn your true nature?"

"Yes, I was. The... whatever it was, person or something told me that."

"Uh huh. And that's what the boxes do. They take people into a place or time that seems to tie in with their deepest, not fantasies, more like aspects of their personality. It shows where they really fit in: who they truly are. That makes you a very interesting case, Joe," she says teasingly. 

"That doesn't make sense though, because I was someone else; not me. I was a doctor the first time, then a knight or something and finally a businessman. And these people were real. I looked them up."

"None of us understand all the rules with these boxes yet or how they work. You did step into real situations, but what you did with them once you were there was one hundred percent you."

"So I'm a man who fucks, is that it?"

"No. You're a man who genuinely loves women: a sexy, wonderful man."

Then she shakes her head, as if shaking off a negative thought and a glimmer of sadness crosses her face. 

"Bethany. Did you ever use the box?"

"Yes." She answers quietly, suddenly solemn once more. "I used it; three times."

"It was you all those times wasn't it?"

She nods assent.

"Why honey? What is in your nature that brought you there?" 

Her eyes meet yours in an unwavering gaze. "Because my nature is... to be in love." 

You stare back, lost for words, as she searches your face. Seemingly unable to find the reaction she was seeking she buries her face in the hollow of your shoulder. Her thick, auburn hair hides her expression but you don't have to see it to know she's sad. 

You think for a minute, reflecting on your life up to now: the daily boredom, how your ex-wife made you feel old, dull and worthless and compare that with how alive you feel now: alive and strong and sexy. You think about the sinking feeling you had when she mentioned saying goodbye and realize that now that you have her in your real life you don't want to lose her again. 

You consider it. "We could go out sometime maybe if you'd like to. You know; dinner... a movie...sex."

"That would be nice. When?"

"As soon as you want."

"I'm not particularly hungry."

"Me neither. There aren't any good movies playing these days."

"Not a single one."

She resumes toying with your nipples. Hers are rock hard and pointing at you. 

She lightly runs her fingers down your sides, tickling you. 

"Whoa, Bethany, stop that, you know I'm ticklish." 

She grins mischievously and continues; now grinding her wet pussy against your cock as well. 

"Don't you wish you weren't tied up?" she teases. "Now I have you right where I've always wanted you." 

She lifts up slightly and positions her pussy just over your cock. You thrust upwards, into her velvety warmth. 

"Or maybe I have you right where I've always wanted you." 

And then some. For a long, long time.