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Gone

By: MaxSebastian



During the night, the staff disappeared. It was quick, and nobody saw – or even heard – a thing, but every single member of staff was gone before any of the recruits knew it. 

There were those who did find out soon afterwards, though. Archie woke Kravitz with a quick shake of the shoulders.

“They’ve gone!” he whispered, not wishing to wake any of the other boys in the dormitory. 

“What?” There was not much light, but Kravitz could just about make out Archie’s silhouette against the glow from the corridor that came through the half-open dormitory door. He knew instantly it was Archie from the half-cynical, half-mischievous voice he’d grown up with over the past five years at the Academy.

“Who’s gone?” Kravvy asked, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

“The matron’s gone, the officer on the watch is gone – all of the staff have gone!” Archie clarified. 

“Gone?” 

“Yeah – vanished.” 

“They can’t’ve,” Kravvy said, but the unrefined excitement in his friend’s voice was highly contagious. He could feel a little mischief coming – he always seemed to be dragged along when Archie got itchy feet. And usually it led to trouble.

“They have,” Archie’s voice pierced the silent darkness, and almost in anticipation of his next suggestion, Kravvy’s heartbeat had already quickened. “Come on,” Archie said, “let’s go take a look!”

2

Tip-toeing out of the room, they slipped through the door, closing it behind them to keep their discovery to themselves. Out in the corridor, there was no matron. Usually, there was a matron on duty, all through the night. Either The Witch or the Wolf or the Hyena. Sometimes Kravvy felt sorry for them – after all, every three nights they had to work when everyone else slept. But out here it wasn’t such a hardship for them, the night shift. What was the difference between night and day, after all? Most of the lights in the school were on in the day and most of the children were around. There could be no ‘unsociable’ hours out here – matrons had no social lives anyway. Besides, when they roared orders at the young recruits, they lost all possible sympathy, at least that was what Kravvy thought.

But there was no one here now. The matrons were gone. 

The dull lights were also a signal that all wasn’t right. Looking ahead, he could make out Archie’s silhouette – his characteristic sprawl of curly hair that flouted all the regulations unlike Kravvy’s own close-cut hair – but all details were cut out by the lack of light. Archie gestured for him to follow him out. The air conditioning was slightly chilling against Kravitz’ bare top as he tiptoed after his curly-haired friend to the next ‘safe’ vantage point at the end of their dormitory’s corridor.

“I was just up to get a drink of water,” Archie whispered, a little louder here now that they were away from prying ears. “And there was no matron.”

“That doesn’t mean there’s no one around,” Kravitz said, his heart beating like a bass drum at a rock concert as he felt suddenly very vulnerable out there dressed in nothing but a pair of PJ bottoms.

Archie smiled an all-knowing smile, the edges of his face just picking up the dull grey light. He was a brainy one, Archie; and over the years they’d been to the Academy together, Kravitz had quickly learned to trust both his word and his judgement. Just that smile set him at ease considerably. “I had a quick explore on my own,” he told Kravitz. “A bit of research to test my hypothesis, you might say.”

“And?”

“And I didn’t see any matrons outside the other dorms, either. And no officers wandering between.”

“No one at all?”

“Nope. And the lights around our wing are all turned down like this.”

Kravitz felt a shiver shoot down his spine, a mixture of excitement, nerves and the cold air. “What do we do?” he asked, making himself feel like the stupid one, but he wasn’t. You couldn’t help feeling a little unintelligent around Archie. That was why he wasn’t very popular.

“Don’t you want to find out what’s happened?” Archie’s face was alive, his eyes full of the thrill of the unauthorised. “Don’t you want to know?”

“Well… kinda…” the taller, more athletic Kravitz replied nervously, his muscles trembling slightly from the adrenaline flooding through his system.

“I thought you wanted to be a colonist some day?” 

“I never said I was certain… it’s my parents who said I should…”

“Come on, it’ll be an adventure,” the curly-haired boy said, poking his head around the corner into the larger hallway outside. “We can explore, see how far we get – just like being a colonist.”

“What if you’re wrong? What if we get caught?”

“Come on, Kravvy! Where’s your sense of adventure? If we get caught then so be it – we’ll just have to be careful. But I tell you, there’s nobody to catch us.”

“They could be trying out some new kind of surveillance system…”

“When have they ever tried any ‘new system’? Everything’s been the same for five years! We haven’t even seen the outside world – it’s time for a little exploring. It’s like a prison in here, not a damn military school.”

“Mmm…” 

“Look,” he put his hands on Kravitz’ shoulders, “trust me, okay? Have I ever got you in trouble before?”

“Plenty of times,” the taller boy smiled back, his white teeth visible in the low light.

“Great,” Archie grinned back and patted his companion on the arms briefly. “Never know, we might get as far as the girls’ end.”

3

It was true: they hadn’t seen the outside world in five years. Kravitz, like the rest of them, was a poor little rich boy whose parents had sent him to the most highly rated military academy in the solar system. A poor little rich boy from a family so large, his parents didn’t know what to do with him. He hadn’t seen them for five years, either.

As one of seven brothers, he’d long had the feeling he was superfluous to his parents’ needs. A drain on resources. He felt even more so here at Aurelius, one of the better-known military academies on Mars. It wasn’t even as though his brothers had been through the same as him: none of them had gone to Aurelius, they’d all gone to Charlemagne – the premier college on Earth. 

“But you’re special,” his mother had said to the tearful thirteen-year-old. “You want to be a colonist, don’t you? You want to see beyond the Solar System. None of the others do. Being a colonist is the greatest adventure anyone could have! You’ll be a real hero, pushing back the boundaries of colonised space, travelling close to the speed of light to discover whole new solar systems!”

But did he want to be a colonist? Did anyone really want to be a colonist past the age of twelve? It was a fine pipe dream for children brought up on exciting science fiction movies and games, but the Federation had advertised lavishly for years after the perfection of the near-light ships, and only a trickle of men and women signed up to stretch the boundaries of human existence. The government was offering massive incentives to families sending their children to the stars now, and even then it was a fairly unpopular thing to do.

His parents had always encouraged his childhood pipe dreams, which had been little more than his puerile attempt to stand out from his siblings, but right now, Kravvy wasn’t so sure he wanted to be a colonist. This military school was supposed to help him make his mind up, though – everyone knew being a colonist was an extremely tough thing to be, but this school was supposed to provide the lessons to make them see that they could do it if they were good enough and worked hard and maintained discipline.

“It’ll be a tremendous honour for the family if you’re a colonist – you want that, don’t you?” his mother had said to him. “Imagine how incredible it would be to see alien landscapes, to lay your eyes on places that no one has ever laid eyes on!”

And even if he didn’t want to be a colonist, she’d said, the fact that he’d been to this school meant that he’d have a huge advantage over others in the job market. That’s what her parents had said, anyway. But Kravvy wasn’t sure what he wanted to do any more. He wasn’t sure he wanted to be so far away from other people. What if something dangerous happened, and there was no army to protect them?

“Come on!” Archie said, snapping his mind back to reality. 

“You’re sure we’re not being watched?”

“Positive – I’m all right, aren’t I? I’ve been sneaking around for half-an-hour or more.”

Archie had never wanted to be a colonist – it was just that his wealthy parents didn’t like him. Worse than Kravvy’s situation, Archie was the illegitimate son of two prominent politicians on separate sides of the Martian Senate. Archie wasn’t just unwanted: he was an embarrassment to his parents. He’d taken a keen sense of self-reliance from that, though, which was why he sometimes got in trouble.

“Girls’ wing’s that way,” Archie said, “but the entrance is down on floor two, so we should go this way.” He pointed down the large spiral staircase made of polished-wood and covered by a rich red carpet - was one of the many remnants of the building’s past as an enormous Martian mansion house for a multi-trillionaire eccentric. 

“There’s a back entrance on floor nine – might be safer,” Kravvy said. But the whole place seemed so different in the darkness – Kravvy had been there for five years, knew the whole place like the back of his hand except the Girls’ end, and he was finding it difficult to orientate himself even though they were just round the corner from their own dorm corridor.

“The NCOs’ dorms are on floor eight – I’m not going through there, whether the staff have gone or not,” Archie said. “Come on, floor two.”

He followed Archie. Archie had always been one to take risks – whenever they played dares after lights-out, it was always Archie that went furthest, did the most daring thing and left the game un-playable for any who wanted to compete. He’d been inside some of the Non-Commissioned Officers’ dorms – Kravvy had only twice dared even go on the same floor.

But now was different – Archie had said he’d been wandering around for half an hour without seeing a trace of the teachers. As they all knew, you could get halfway across school in half an hour – every now and then they had dare time trials, to see how far each person could go in a set time, or the variation: to see how long it took to get to certain places. Archie was always best at that sort of thing. He took risks.

So he had to have strayed quite far without seeing anyone.

They dashed down the stairs – there was no cover on the stairwell, nowhere to hide. It finished on floor three, they had go through a few corridors and round some twisted hallways before finding the stairs to floor two. 

Then, suddenly, they heard a noise.

Both of them froze to the spot, backs to the wall, hoping against hope that it was just one of those old-house creaks you get just from it being an old house. Kravvy shivered. Was it from the cold? He wasn’t particularly cold – though the air was slightly chilly from the air conditioning. 

The main thing was this: they’d been there at the school for five years, and it was getting on for graduation time. Unlike other schools, the graduation ceremony was for all five year-groups at once – they all started at Aurelius at the same time, they all finished at the same time. The Aurelius Academy education was a sought-after thing – nowhere else were boys and girls of different ages were offered the chance to benefit from the mix of experience and youth, scientifically proven to provide a better all-round education.

But unlike other schools, there was no progression: Kravvy’s year group had started at the bottom and would end at the bottom of the heap of seniority. And he’d suffered too much at that level to risk it all now he was so close to graduation.

What if this night of apparent indiscipline was a final test before graduation? Those boys and girls who played along as usual would pass, those who apparently took advantage of the lack of supervision to run riot would fail.

Was this someone coming to catch them?

4

After what seemed like an age, Kravvy’s heart beat slowed down again and his breathing returned to relative normality. Nothing. It was nothing. The noise was obviously just an old floorboard contracting.

“Shall we?” Archie whispered. 

“Sure,” Kravvy said. It now had to be at least half an hour since they’d left the dorm – sneaking takes times – and he felt more disconnected from his warm, comfortable bed than ever. How far had Archie gone before? Had he come this far? What if there were teachers or matrons further than this? What if they started to relax too much and assume that their theory was right, that for some reason none of the staff were around tonight? They might get careless, they might do something stupid, they might rush out into a hoard of trouble.

It was one of the darker corridors, this, and it left Kravvy feeling distinctly disempowered. But still, he tip-toed onwards, following Archie.

Suddenly – another noise. 

A clump and then a small high-pitched yelp. 

“What the hell?” he heard Archie exclaim.

A light came on in front – a thin beam of light, which the years of boarding there and messing about after lights-out meant Kravvy instantly recognised it as a torch light.

“What are you doing here?” he heard Archie say and walked around the corner to find Archie standing there with two of the girls in their year – Selena Mandia and Victoria Simpson.

“You guys never play ‘dares’?” Selena was saying to Kravvy’s friend.

“’Course!” Archie said.

The torchlight moved and Kravvy squinted as it flashed over his face and eyes.

“Hey, it’s Kravvy!” Selena said chirpily. Victoria was keeping quiet. “We could do it here!” she nudged her friend.

Selena was the one with the looks – and how she looked that night! Dressed in little more than a soft white cotton night shirt that only just reached down to her thighs, the mere glimpse he got in the torchlight of her pretty face, framed as it was by her light brown hair – and those devastating big green eyes – it was enough to set Kravvy’s pulse racing.

“Do what?” Archie asked, his jaw visibly dropping at the sight of the two girls in their nightwear. None of the boys ever saw the girls in their nightwear – this was amazing!

“She has to kiss a boy – I have to make sure she does.” Victoria said, sounding bored, unimpressed. She didn’t have Selena’s looks, Kravvy thought, but she wasn’t unattractive. Her messy black hair didn’t do her any favours, and those spectacles gave her face a cynical look, but what really killed off her appeal was her generally cold nature towards the rest of humanity. Archie had always said it was something that needed to be thawed – but Kravvy never knew if that was one of his little jokes or not.

“Come on Kravvy, do a girl a favour!” Selena suddenly draped her arms around him. 

Kravitz shivered slightly as a warm feeling erupted within him. He could feel his cock swelling and the warmth spreading as the girl leaned against him, her sweet scent flooding his senses, her warm breath tickling his face as her mouth drew near to his. She was going to kiss him! Selena, one of the best-looking girls in school was going to kiss him! 

“How about it?” she said softly, seductively, her soft hands sweeping over the bare skin of his chest.

Kravvy could not see properly – the torchlight was somewhere else, flashing around, as though Archie was fighting with Victoria for it – but he felt Selena’s body press against his, her heat flowing through the thin, soft cotton shirt she wore, her soft breasts pressing against his chest.

Then suddenly Selena’s lips were pressing at his, and it was as if a sweet explosion detonated within him. Kravvy had never been close to a girl before – the school’s discipline was strict in that sense – yet as she kissed him, it felt like the most natural, wonderful sensation on Earth. 

For a moment, he was embarrassed and worried that she would feel his hardness, but that feeling soon passed as he realised she was pressing herself against it, grinding her crotch against his own, actively celebrating his reaction to her touch. 

Her hands were moving down towards his behind now, pressing him towards her, and he found his own hands naturally reaching her behind, and he felt that her nightshirt was riding up as she reached up to kiss him, and his fingers found soft, warm, bare skin down there, so rounded and velvety, the upper-most portions covered by the thin cotton of her underwear.

If the lights had been on, she would have seen his eyes widen as his fingers spread over her sensuous curves and she moaned quietly – it was incredible. But then, suddenly, she’d broken off, torn away from him – gone…

5

“Come on – we’ll be caught!” a forced whisper from Victoria as she pulled her friend away from Kravvy.

“Toria!” Selena whined. 

Kravitz was shivering and tingling all over, but his body craved somehow seemed to mourn the lost touch of her soft warmth and the sweet scent that surrounded her irresistibly female form. 

Wow. Had what had happened really happened? 

“Girls, girls!” That was Archie. Had he seen what Selena had done to him? Kravvy could hardly believe it himself. He’d never thought she might find him attractive – but then the genders were kept apart so efficiently at Aurelius that there was never any sign that anyone found anyone attractive there. 

“There’s no one to catch us!” Archie was saying – a little way away now. Kravvy jogged to catch up, and came through into a hallway where there was a touch more light available.

And he caught sight of her. Even in the limited grey light, she was an exquisite site. Her white cotton nightshirt teased his gaze, flaunting what she had underneath yet keeping it covered. Her straight, shoulder-length hair, parted in the middle and tied in two pigtails framed her elfin, pretty face. Her own eyes met his, packing a punch through his stomach from their sensationally elegant beauty, reflecting her mischievous smile as she silently shared with him recollection of what had just happened between them in the dark.

It had happened.

He couldn’t help but quiver from nervous but thrilled excitement.

And there were no teachers around. 

“Sure there is,” Victoria broke the silence.

“There isn’t – me and Kravvy’ve gone round the whole place,” Archie lied, “there’s no one to be found.”

“Crap,” Victoria said cynically. “They’re probably just having a party somewhere – they’ll be in the officers’ mess or something.”

“Well think about it – if there was one place they’d be to make sure we didn’t stray, where would it be?” He asked. “The connection between the girls’ end and the boys end, surely? The very fact that you’re here…”

“What if they just left for a few minutes?” Victoria said. Kravvy was getting a little cold and increasingly nervous – he wasn’t too keen on just hanging about in the open there. Whether Archie was right or not, they had no guarantees. Victoria went on: “What if they were all called away for an important meeting, and because it’s been five years since we all started here, they thought for one night we’d know not to go out of bounds?” 

Archie scratched his head. “That wouldn’t happen,” he said a bit weakly.

“What if they come back, and they’re on their posts before we can get back to our end?” Victoria said.

Kravvy looked at Selena. She was already looking at him, but the issue of where the staff were was on neither of their minds – he could tell that she was thinking about the same thing as him – what had happened between them. There was a pause since Archie couldn’t think of a come-back to Victoria’s cynicism.

“Why don’t we go look for them?” Selena said, slightly unexpectedly.

“What?” Victoria snapped back.

“Yeah,” she said, “we could go looking, and if we run into them, we could say… I don’t know… one of us is sick, or something, we needed to find someone.”


Gone



“She’s got a point,” Archie said. “They’re supposed to be there for us in case we get sick.”

“Why would two girls be looking for the staff with two boys?” Victoria speared the proposal.

“Someone got sick on both sides?” Selena suggested.

“Look, we only need the plan if we get caught – it’s the final defence,” Archie said. “It doesn’t have to be genius. We’ll risk it – are the staff going to be worried about whether we’re really sick or not? They’d be worried that we knew they were being slack, not doing their jobs.”

“Let’s get moving,” Kravitz said. “It’s getting cold hanging about in the air conditioning.”

“I know how to warm you up, Kravvy,” Selena whispered mischievously to him, and he jumped slightly, having not noticed her getting closer to him.

“Aren’t you even a little bit curious where they are?” Archie said to Victoria. “You’d be willing to just go back to bed and forget all about it? What if something weird’s happened? You wouldn’t want to be the one to find out?”

“Come on Toria!” Selena said, “let’s find out where they are!”

There was a slight pause, and then Victoria said: “well, okay. But they’re not going to believe one of us and one of you is sick. So if we get caught, you’re just messing around – we’re here because one of us is sick.”

Kravvy smiled – of course it was an unfair deal, but he knew Archie was willing to gamble that they wouldn’t be caught anyway, and he just wanted time with Selena away from the strict discipline of the normal school time, or maybe even just any kind of assurance that they would continue where they’d left off – either tonight or after graduation.

“Sounds good to me,” Archie said.

6

“The officers’ mess is that way, but if they’re having a meeting, chances are it would be in Commander Beeny’s office,” Archie said, “and that’s the other way.”

“We can split up,” Selena suggested. “Synchronise watches and meet up back here.”

“Good plan,” Archie nodded.

“You can go with Victoria,” the pretty imp told Archie, “I’ll go with Kravvy. It’ll be fun that way.”

“That would defeat the whole idea of us looking for the staff because one of us is sick,” Victoria said, seemingly more put out by the suggestion of teaming up with Archie than the actual dissolution of their excuse.

“Oh live a little, Victoria!” Selena said. “When we graduate we’re all going to get boring office jobs – we might as well have some adventure while we can!”

“Oh, okay!” she said, frustrated at her lack of control over proceedings, and grabbed hold of Archie’s hand, yanking him away down the corridor.

Nervous butterflies started fluttering inside Kravvy’s stomach as he realised he was now alone with Selena.

7

Kravitz was more nervous than ever. Not only had he lost the security of Archie’s presence – no matter how risky the mischief, if Archie was there he always made it seem safe – but he was now in the company of a girl, prove positive that they were breaking the rules. If caught, they’d really be for it now. 

Plus the fact that she was a girl he’d had a crush on ever since year one. She was the stuff of wet dreams, and in a place like Aurelius, where there was no space or privacy to relieve frustration and definitely no way of revealing feelings to the opposite sex, a crush was likely to simmer until boiling point in a recruit.

Right now, Kravvy felt dangerously close to boiling point – Selena was there, holding his hand, with no one else around at all. Seemingly, they had all the privacy and space they could possibly need, but why would she be going for him of all people? There were more popular boys, there were boys who were much better at the end-of-semester performance tests.

Maybe he was all that was available. Maybe she was planning on making a fool out of him. He hoped not, and lead by the weakness of his desire, he had no insurance against such a possibility.

After a fair stretch of time, they came to the eerily familiar corridor outside Commander Beeny’s Office. Kravvy had been there a few times – every time one a dare went wrong, every time one of Archie’s suggestions went awry. 

“Wait,” she whispered to him. 

“Huh?”

“Wait here in the dark. I’ll knock on the door – if it opens, no one will see you. It’ll be like it’s just me standing there, and I can say I’m feeling sick. You can make an escape.”

“Okay,” he said obediently. 

“Will you let me kiss you again?” she asked.

“Huh?” his stomach leapt within him.

“You know, in case this is the end of our time together tonight.”

“Uh… I guess…” he said nervously.

And then it was happening again, only this time more so. That beautiful creature, so divine in her scent and in her softness, was crushed against him once more, her mouth finding his lips, her hands spreading over his body, her knee lifting so that her leg could caress his, her heat pressing against his hardening cock.

This time, she seemed to go further, grinding herself against him and moaning softly, clearly feeling safe away from the other two. But Kravvy did not feel so safe – they were just outside Commander Beeny’s office!

“We’d better not,” he said, breaking apart from her embrace. “At least… not here.”

“You’re right,” she whispered. “Go and wait over there. I’ll try the door.” 

She knocked on the door. 

Nothing. 

She knocked again. Kravvy swallowed, his mouth dry, his heart beat seeming to be so strong, he could feel his whole body pulsate from nervousness.

Still Nothing. 

Quietly, slowly, she turned the big heavy doorknob and pushed open the door a crack and poked her head inside. 

No light came out of the room initially, but suddenly the room did light up, and that sudden brightness flooded out of the room. An explosive jolt of shock rocketed through his body at the sudden brightness.

Were they caught?

“There’s nobody here!” she said, pushing the door open but standing there waiting for him. The light illuminated her completely, revealing her stunning beauty to its full jaw-dropping extent. To a slight degree, it even passed through the thin white cotton of her nightshirt to give a slight hint of what she wore beneath – and that was nothing apart from her panties.

“Turn the light off!” he whispered, though he wished he didn’t have to. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to look upon the incredible sight of her in her nightwear, that was for sure. “Someone will spot the light a mile off,” he explained.

“Don’t you want to look inside?” she asked. 

“Well…” his curiosity was as strong as hers. “There’s a little desk light there – put that on instead.”

She did so, and the light wasn’t so bright, so overpowering. A soft peach instead of the harsh white. 

“Well, there’s nobody here,” she said. “Maybe Archie’s right.”

“Maybe he is,” Kravitz replied as he looked around Commander Beeny’s office. It was a huge room, with colossal bookshelves spanning three of the walls. A fireplace sat in one wall, shelves around it, and the unshelved wall was wall-to-ceiling glass. Outside that glass, all was dark. 

“Kravvy?” 

“Yeah?” he turned around to find her sitting at Beeny’s desk. 

“What do you think?” she asked with a coy smile. 

Selena had taken off her nightshirt and was sitting there where the grouchy old Commander always used to sit every time he gave Kravvy and Archie a dressing down. The prettiest girl Kravitz knew, the girl who had haunted many of his dreams, the girl who more than any else made him wish he wasn’t in military school, locked away from pleasures of the flesh, she was sitting there in front of him in nothing more than a skimpy pair of pink cotton panties and some white ankle socks.

9 “Well, they’re not here,” Archie said. 

“Damn – they must have been caught,” Victoria said. She was more than a little tired of all this fooling around. She’d not really wanted to play dares anyhow – it was cold, she wanted her bed.

“Not necessarily. I bet their just enjoying the ride,” Archie chuckled. He was such a foul-mouthed oaf. 

“Selena wouldn’t be so stupid,” Victoria said.

“You saw the way she dragged Kravvy away!” Archie laughed. “Don’t be so high-minded!”

“It’s just not like her to miss an appointment. We’re not ill-disciplined like you boys.”

“Oh? So why are you out here in the first place?”

“Well whether they’ve been caught or not, I’m going back to my dorm,” she insisted and marched off down the corridor, away from the stairs at which they’d arranged to meet Selena and Kravitz after discovering that the officers’ mess was empty of all life.


“Okay then,” Archie said, marching after her, “I’m going with you.”

“You can’t!” Victoria hissed, and stopped there in the dark hallway. “What if you’re caught?”

“Then it’ll be worth it! I’ve never been up the girls’ end – this is my chance! Too bad if Kravvy couldn’t make it. But if they have been caught, there’s nothing we can do for them anyhow.”

“You’re such an idiot,” she said.

“Oh, lighten up.”

“Fine, come,” she said, “it’s got nothing to do with me.”

Archie grinned in the darkness. Fantastic. The explorer’s nature within him rejoiced: this was the night he’d finally conquer the entire building. It was a shame Kravvy wouldn’t be there to share the excitement, though – it was slightly troublesome that he hadn’t made their rendezvous. But Archie had an idea that he hadn’t been caught. There simply wasn’t anybody about to catch him. 

And that meant…

10

“Shouldn’t we go somewhere safer?” Kravvy asked in between kissing her.

“Relax,” she said, “We’ve been everywhere – there’s no one around.”

“We didn’t get to the officers’ mess – what if Archie’s been caught?”

“He hasn’t. Victoria’ll keep him on the straight and narrow.”

“But – ”

“Shhh…” she said, “just touch me.”

He kissed down her neck, over the soft warm skin of her chest. So beautiful, her face so pretty though her eyes closed while she moaned quietly. Kravvy had never felt so alive, his entire body pulsated with excitement – this girl was the most devastatingly attractive creature in the galaxy – and he was exploring her semi-naked body with his lips. Extraordinary.

Her moans deepened slightly as he moved down to kiss over her soft, rounded breasts, his chin grazing over her velvet skin, his lips and his gentle tongue gliding over her enticing curves to slip onto her stiff yet tender buds.

For years, he’d wondered what it would be like, but never had he imagined such softness, or the extent to which she would respond to his touch. She writhed as his hands coaxed her breasts and his hot mouth drew her hard nipples in, sucking strongly, drawing his rough tongue over their sensitivity.

He could feel her pushing her hips up, rubbing her cotton-covered crotch against his chest, urging him lower. He teased her a little, letting his hands drop as he continued to kiss her breasts, caressing her stomach, her waist, her thighs, so that her moans became a touch pleading, loving the attention at her bra-less mounds but needing more at the heart of her craving.

At the perfect moment, he judged her ready and he kissed his way down over her stomach, round and round her navel, still glorying in his first-ever access to this unrestricted femininity under him. How often when they’d been dressed in civvy clothes had she worn crop-tops? So sexy revealing that flat stomach, drawing the male eye more than enhanced cleavage or long sinuous legs, the soft, sculpted skin there to taunt its audience, a speak signpost to what lay beneath her waistband. 

And now he was here, and he was kissing her bare midriff, but there was more: now he could kiss lower, where the curve of her abdomen led beneath the thin pink cotton of her scanty underwear. He could kiss down her slender thighs and even graze his nose across her panties, around the gentle rise of her mound where her sweet scent turned sharp, and the girlish material became moist.

“Oh please,” she moaned in little more than a whisper of desperation, “oh please..” 

He looked up to her near-painfully pretty face and could hardly believe where he was. He grinned, and nuzzled into her moisture, his hot tongue touching her through the thin material, drawing out a long moan from her mouth as he tasted her juices for the first time. 

“Please…” she moaned, “please…”

He smiled before gently nudging aside the pink cotton covering her mound, revealing below the soft, pink, glistening folds that sat like a flower waiting for his mouth.

11

The girls had been right: there was no officer on watch at the entrance to the girls’ end – this was unprecedented. If anything happened in the academy, the last place an officer would leave would be this divide, this high-ceilinged hall encircled by a single staircase – there was always someone here.

That had to be proof that Archie was right. There was no one here. The officers, the matrons, the staff – they were all gone. 

But where had they gone to?

That was the question now – not whether they had gone or not, but where had they gone. And Archie for one wasn’t too keen on thinking about the answer to that question.

“Last chance,” Victoria said.

“I’m not turning back now,” Archie said. “No boy has ever made it through here.”

But Victoria wasn’t up for conversation. She really had something up her ass – or perhaps, Archie sniggered quietly, she needed something. But whatever, she wasn’t going to spoil this, his greatest achievement in five years of fooling about.

Winding their way through the corridors in the girls’ end, they passed doors that must have been to dormitories, rows and rows of sleeping girls – incredible! But it wasn’t too different to the boys’ end apart from the luxurious-feeling carpet on all the floors – it was bare wood for the boys – and the laundry baskets containing female issue uniforms and underwear – ripe for a souvenir, perhaps, on his way out.

“Well, you’re here,” Victoria said, “you can leave now. You’ve done it – you don’t need to follow me any more.”

“Loosen up,” he said. “I want to see your dorm first.”

She sighed and continued onwards, with Archie behind her.

12

“Oh, we thought you got caught!” a girl’s voice as Victoria entered what was obviously her and Selena’s dorm. “Did you make it to the boys’ end?”

There was a quiet burble of voices – all the girls were obviously awake. Putting the boys to shame, Archie thought. Perhaps he should have been born a girl.

“Pretty much,” Victoria said as Archie came round the corner.

“Oh my God!” various cries hushed suddenly as they realised their danger of being caught.

“Toria, you’re a genius!”

“Where’s Selena?!”

Archie couldn’t really see in there – just a bunch of silhouettes and dark shadows. But the scent of females was unmistakable – mixed perfumes, gentle odours that filled his nostrils. 

“Hi,” he said.

“Who is it?”

“Archie Bates,” Victoria said, sounding a little less bored than she had been – perhaps she was revelling in her new-found notoriety.

“Never mind who it is - this is the best dare anyone’s ever done, Toria!” somebody said to add to her self-satisfied feeling.

“Where is he?” another voice – closer.

“Over here.” Another voice, and soft hands reaching out to touch him.

“Might as well make the most of him,” hands touching him, crawling over his bare skin.

“He won’t know who we are,” said another, and it was true – he couldn’t tell who was who in there.

He felt himself surrounded now, soft hands moving all over him – he couldn’t count them. Nice. He jumped slightly as they moved down under his pyjama bottoms and then – suddenly – they were off, he felt the cold air around his sensitive regions – soon to be replaced by gentle hands touching, holding, caressing.

There were giggles, there were moans, there were sighs and there were gasps as Archie found the blood flowing to a certain place, and the centre of their exploratory touches grew distinctly in stature.

“Get him to lie down.”

“Yeah – get him to lie down.”

“This is our chance! I don’t know about you guys, but I don’t want to be a virgin when I graduate.”

In the darkness, Archie’s eyes widened. 

13

He had her taste reverberating around his mouth and the sound of her first orgasm reverberating around his ears as they relocated to the sheepskin rug in front of the fireplace. 

Before he lay down, Selena helped him to remove his pyjama bottoms, her face lightening up further as she laid eyes on his nakedness. She kept her panties and her white ankle socks on as she knelt down between his thighs – now it was her turn to explore his body. 

Kravvy was still trembling a little as she moved over his body – this was such an incredible night. Now it was Selena’s turn to kiss her way over his chest, exploring his athletic frame with her touch. It wasn’t long before one of her hands found its way to his erection, exploring the unfamiliar form of masculinity, caressing and stroking his rigid cock.

He moaned slightly and placed his hands behind his head as he felt her warm breath on his shaft. She kissed around his penis, stroking it with her soft little nose, feeling it pulsate with blood and react to her every touch. 

Gently drawing down his foreskin, she kissed his most sensitive part and smiled as he shuddered in response.

Oh God, it was divine – a blissful, warm feeling overcame him as he felt his cock enveloped by the irresistible heat of her mouth. He couldn’t help but shiver and shudder as she started a strong, slow rhythm on his shaft. This was so amazing – everything he’d dreamt of and more – he wasn’t going to last long at this rate, he could already feel his orgasm building, brewing inside him…

14

Archie was now beyond amazement. 

Lying there, there was a strangely wonderful feeling of complete shock gripping him now. He’d always thought the girls were a boring bunch, too disciplined for their own good, too willing to follow the officers’ orders to the letter, too keen on performing to their utmost and graduating with the highest honours possible.

But that picture had been false – he saw that now. 

Or at least, he felt it. For where he was, he couldn’t see a thing. Lying on his back, the room was fairly dark, but there were two girls taking turns at French kissing him, so that darkness was made complete. 

No, this was the real story: while most of the boys, who often fooled around after lights out, were asleep in their beds, these girls were up and fooling around to a much greater extent. Not only had two of them made it to the boys’ end, but now that he was here, there was no nervous giggling and timidity – they had him stripped and on his back, there to be used by them to practise skills they obviously wanted to develop for their time after graduation.

And along with the two practising their French kissing on his lips, a number of them were sharing his cock down there, feeling it, kissing it, tasting it, practising their oral techniques – it was heaven. 

There were also the hands – all over him, stroking him, feeling him, touching him and exploring him, making the most of their first available man laid before them.

He couldn’t count how many there were. He didn’t even care. His whole world was filled with girls, his every sense connected with unrestricted young womanhood, it was like paradise on earth.

“Wait, I wanna try something.” Archie heard the whisper above him – one of the girls French-kissing him. 

Suddenly, she was next to his ear – startling him slightly.

“Are you ready for this?” she asked. 

He didn’t know what to say. He was just trying to maintain control on his looming orgasm. But now he felt her kneel above him – her scent was strong now, her warmth increasing and then he felt her all around him, her heat enveloping him as her cotton-clad pussy touched down on his lips.

It was everything he could do to keep from exploding.




Gone



15

“We’ve got to get back – they’ll be expecting us,” he said. Lying there, Selena was beside him, her arm draped over him, her soft hand playing gently with his gradually hardening cock.

“A few more moments?” she pleaded. “It feels like you’re nearly ready to go further.”

At that, the transformation was complete: rigidity returned. 

“Oh, you like that idea then!” she giggled. 

“Well…” he smiled, “maybe a few minutes.”

“Mmm…” she purred and gave his penis a final encouraging squeeze before lifting her leg over him and pulling herself up.

For a moment, she just lay there, his large, hot shaft resting between her thighs, so close to connection, so close to that no-turning-back point that would change both of them as people, yet leave them both the same.

“You ready?” she breathed, her face so close to his, her eyes staring into his.

“Absolutely,” he whispered in reply.

She lifted her shoulders, sitting up astride him, positioning him, positioning herself, and then slowly the heat encompassed his cock, inch at a time. She moaned quietly, shuddered as he had so many times before they’d reached this point and then – strangely, it seemed – he was there. A part of him was inside another – inside the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen – a part of her. 

For a moment they were still, gazing at each other, running their eyes over every curve, every plane of each other’s form, almost in awe of what they had become, the barrier they had been through.

And then she moved – slowly at first, just a shift of her hips – and the sensations were on fire between them. His hands moved to her chest, supporting her, caressing her, reaching for her as the rhythm grew between them and their feelings consumed them.

She moaned helplessly as the new-found feelings flooded through her system and for the first time she was filled by another. His glorious, strong, fulsome cock was squeezing inside her most personal parts, touching places that had never been touched, reaching within to such an incredible extent, stroking centres of bliss that she never knew existed.

He sighed as he felt her squeezing around him, taking him in, completely surrounding and engulfing his hardness, so soft, so hot, so wet. He reached up, holding her shapely breasts, coaxing them as she herself was coaxing his cock with her body.

Their rhythm was leading to the very peak of anything he had ever experienced. He could feel himself going, going, he could hear her moaning rising in pitch and volume – she was feeling what he was feeling – her own orgasm building, readying her to receive his seed.

A wave of white noise and chaos seemed to overwhelm him, blanking out all other sensory input apart from that final explosive force between them. Pushing against him, Selena felt the sensations jolting and dancing from her connection with him and the contact of her sensitive clit on his shaft. As she felt his cock begin to quiver within her and the sudden heat of his come was pumped forth inside her, she went over her own climax, as wave upon wave of raw power swamped her entire being.

16

He was impressing himself now – quite an achievement after so much had happened to impress him already – but now, after what seemed like several hours had passed, he could feel the inevitable coming on.

Hell, he’d given them a good run for their money. With the taste of at least half a dozen girls racing through his taste buds and another already in place, he’d heard enough to know that they’d gained some degree of pleasure from his predicament. But now it was his turn, he couldn’t face much more of this.

It had been incredible – the most amazing night of his life – even if he hadn’t been able to see a thing. They’d surrounded him, stripped him and used him for their own ends – and he’d loved every minute of it. Pent up without so much of a glimpse of female flesh, now he had as much as he could possible handle – more, perhaps, than he could possibly handle.

He still didn’t know how many there were – they moved, they changed, they switched places and took turns, progressing from the tentative touches and nervous exploratory caresses to the all-out no-holds-barred full on treatment, thrusting themselves down upon him, going all the way.

He couldn’t tell who had been his first, he couldn’t tell who had been where or who had loved what. But then he hadn’t had a moment to worry. He could tell that they all kept on their nightshirts – vigilant always in case they needed a swift escape – but some of them removed their panties, some of them did not. Some of them had hair over their mounds, some were smooth. Some wore sweet perfume that mingled with their deeper scent, some wore exotic and a couple wore flowery aromas.

But now he had to end it – he couldn’t hold out any more. Locked between the fiery thighs of an unknown girl, though, he could tell anyone what was coming. Instead, he managed to reach the girl who was now astride him, patting her fairly urgently so that she got the message. She did get the message, but unexpectedly did not simply evacuate.

He felt a different kind of heat surrounding him, a stronger squeeze around his cock – a girl’s mouth. And with his hardness locked inside her hot cheeks, the barrier snapped and he allowed himself to let go, flooding her throat with his come.

Sensing that he was a spent force, the girls left him now, except for the one between his thighs, gently lapping at his cock, swallowing the last traces of his emissions. A light came on – a bedside lamp. 

And to his surprise, it was Victoria with her lips around his softening penis.

17

He kissed her one last time before they parted, and she headed back through the corridor into the girls’ end again. It had been three hours – and much as he hated to admit it, it wouldn’t be too long before it became light again. 

It was time to part, time to head back and minimise the impact their nocturnal adventure would have on their daily lives. Soon enough it would be graduation, and Kravvy knew he would find her arms again. But now, there were more pressing matters to attend to – like getting back to the dorm before his absence was missed.

He paused for a moment or two, figuring out the best way to go. Where was Archie? Had he been caught? If he had been caught, why was there still no officer on watch here, the most important of boundaries?

Then just as he was about to turn on his heal and head back to the boys’ end, Kravvy heard a voice.

“What on earth are you doing here?”

18

His heart nearly exploded, he nearly jumped out of his skin in terror, his eyes bulged out of their sockets and his stomach seemed to catch fire.

Archie.

God damn! What the hell was he doing coming out of the girls’ end? Hadn’t he been caught?

“Archie, you frightened the life out of me!” he declared in a pained whisper.

“My God, I thought for sure you must’ve been caught.”

“Sorry I missed the rendezvous,” Kravvy said.

“Sorry I missed it,” Archie laughed and Kravvy joined in. “You have fun with Selena, huh?”

“You could say that,” he said, and realised something. Archie had been in the girls’ end for nigh on three hours. “You had fun with Victoria?” he asked, a little bemused at how his friend had broken through the cold barrier of the girls’ sulkiness.

“You could say that,” he replied, patting his friend on the back, “and with the other girls in her dorm, too.”

“Archie, you tiger!” Kravvy chuckled as they made their way back along the corridor towards the staircase home.

“Hang on,” Archie said, a note of seriousness slipping into his voice. 

“What?” Kravvy asked, his foot on the first step of the stairs.

“You went to Mr Beeny’s office?”

“Certainly did.”

“And we went to the officers’ mess – no officers there, either. So where the hell are they?” 

“I don’t know. Is it worth finding out?”

“Kravvy,” Archie said, and Kravvy could hear a slight tremble in his friends’ voice – the same nerves that he was now feeling? It couldn’t just be the slight chill in the air, could it? “Kravvy, whatever might have happened to us, it still can’t have sapped your curiosity, can it?”

“Well… it’s just…” 

“I have a feeling tonight’s been as amazing for you as it has for me – but isn’t there that little something, that little niggle deep down there – don’t you want to know what’s going on?”

“Well, I suppose…”

“There’s only one place we have left to look.”

“Where?”

“Outside the main gate.”

“Archie – no! Surely not… that’s asking for it! Let’s just call it a night, huh? It’s been pretty good all round…”

“Come on Kravvy – we’ll be legends!”

And of course, as usual, Kravvy agreed – it would be insane, but legendary. 

“Come on then,” he said. “You always get me in trouble, Archie.”

“Isn’t that what you like about me?” he chuckled and they were away again. The final frontier – all in the name of staking a claim on the unofficial title of courage.

19

Here they were – the front lobby. Even more heavily guarded than the corridor leading to the girls’ end ordinarily, the two boys were completely and utterly dumbfounded to find it deserted.

“Nobody here at all!” Archie whistled his amazement.

“What the hell is going on?” Kravvy asked, wandering around the empty stone hall. 

“Maybe something happened while most of us were asleep. Like some kind of mysterious virus or something. Only the officers got it.”

“What, a virus that only targets those awake? That wouldn’t work. And where are the bodies?”

“Don’t know. Come on.” Archie headed for the great solid doors, leading to the outside. None of them had been through them for five years. They hadn’t been outside for five years. Everything they needed to do could be done in the virtual space, the holodeck. It was a policy that more than anything else made Aurelius seem like a prison to those confined.

But now they were going out. They were breaking out.

Butterflies seemed to have taken over Kravvy’s body: fluttering around his stomach, flittering around his heart. Adrenalin was everywhere.

“Here we go,” Archie turned the great handle. It responded to his hand, the electronics assisting his grip in turning the mighty mechanism. “It’s not even locked,” he said.

“What do we do when we get out?” Kravvy asked. “There’s not going to be anyone out there on the street at this time.”

“We’ll find some cops – tell them our officers have gone – we’ll be double heroes!”

But then the light flooded in as the door opened in front of them – light that was far too bright for that time at night. So bright it was that they had to squint violently to protect their sensitive eyes.

And now, opening up their eyelids again, shock and complete surprise replaced the fluttering butterflies. 

There was no street outside. The gloomy expanse of urban sprawl that they had expected to see had gone – it simply wasn’t there. Instead, beyond huge scorch marks that were the classic traits of great flaming landing thrusters, green trees and vegetation swayed gently in the alien breeze. 

“My God…” Archie said.

But it wasn’t the vegetation that was the most terrifying thing. Neither of them were experts on plant life – neither could tell what species these were – they could have been Earth plants, Martian plants, though both of them knew they were not. 

“That explains where the officers are then,” Kravitz said, his voice sounding oddly far-off, disembodied. “They’re doubtless on their way back to teach some other poor unwitting colonists.”

No, the real proof – the terrifying confirmation that their future was now completely and utterly transformed – was the three suns blazing in the sky.



Gone



I see his face as I am lying in bed. The shadows from the street outside lap my skin where my bare arms are exposed above the duvet. It is cold. Every night it is the same; on some nights this silent time is better than others. On those occasions I will have seen him or spoken to him; he will have fed my fantasies. On other nights there will be none and I will have to make do with my imagination. I finger the bed sheets beside me.

I wish you were here, I whisper to the air. 

I look to the window, where street lights shine dully through my thin curtains. I know he is out there, in the same city, and I wait with eager anticipation for when he will contact me again. I run a slow hand across my naked stomach. It feels hot and hard and smooth – I work hard for it, but it's wasted without him to touch it for me, like everything else. My hand creeps lower, between my thighs, where it is hotter still.

I love him, by the way. I also want him, and crave him. I know he wants me, too.

But he doesn't love me.

Not yet.

The next day when I awake, I almost forget where I am. Home, yes – and it's the weekend. I breathe a sigh of gratitude, and roll over. My bed is warm and cloying.

Without a thought I continue what I left before sleep...he is beside me, touching me, telling me how amazing I am. I giggle girlishly, and fight him off. But he slides his body above me, his great masculine form with its wiry dark hairs and lightly tanned skin, and begins to kiss my neck. 

Don't, I resist, still smiling, trying to push his shoulders back. But it's pointless; he wants me too much. He cannot get enough of me. His head dips down past my neck. He takes my right nipple between his lips and tugs gently. I squeal, but he knows better than to stop.

And so he continues this downward meander of kisses, over my ribs to my belly button, clutching my hips. Then my legs are apart and he is probing my wetness with his tongue, swirling it around, spelling the alphabet I think. I don't care. I grab onto his dark mussed-up hair and force him further.

If you stop now I'll kill you. I moan louder. I mean it, I will.

He stops, looking at me square. He's smiling. Those dark, almost eastern eyes are staring me down, mocking me. I don't believe you, he says. 

I laugh again, and push him back down. I want you so, so badly, I tell him.

He kisses me more, licks around my clit. It swells more, even though it feels already saturated with lust. He slides a single finger inside me and I groan, unable to help myself rocking against him. He sucks on it, gently at first.

I am almost there, but there is a sudden screeching noise. My eyes fly open, and for a fleeting second my heart seems to stop. It is my alarm clock. Nine a.m.

Shit. I hit it off, and flop back on my bed. The moment is lost, and I'm totally alone. My fingers hover between my legs, but I don't bother.

So the day drifts away. I do all the menial things. I wash, clean, walk to the shops. I check my phone for messages – none. Perhaps if I turn it off for a while, that will make the message come. It's Saturday night. He likes Saturday night. It says sex to him; it must remind him of rampant nights hunting in bars. At any rate, he usually chooses the weekend. And I'm usually very careful to make myself unavailable, in theory, but he gets the better of me. He knows this. Nobody else takes me out on a Saturday night, and it's not because I'm ugly or boring. It's because I say no – Saturday is free, just in case he calls. So I am always available, sad though it is for my pride. 

But it's like I said before – I love him. Love and pride do not mix well.

It is six p.m. I am going insane already. I watch a film with sex scenes and it works me into an embarrassing frenzy. I surf the net, looking for somebody to talk to. Although, I do think, God help whoever falls unaware into a chat room with this completely fuck-desperate woman. I am so horny I can think of nothing else. I take a shower, but I can't face the cold taps. I am straight, but I find myself thinking of women. Their naked breasts, pushed against my own. Soap suds everywhere. Tongues and fingers bringing one another to a delicious orgasm. I must go for a walk.

But then, miracle! While I have been washing he has left me a message. It's dirty, and I relish every letter.

Hey babe. How is that nice crack of yours.

It's lewd and disgusting. It's him all over. I love it. I can see him smiling as he writes it. And as I read it over and over, I lick my lips, settling into a comfortable ball on the couch. I shouldn't reply straight away. I should wait...I should play hard-to-get...

But I'm insatiably horny, and I'm not in school anymore. I don't have to play games, I say defiantly to myself, hah!

Quickly I text back. Why do you want to know. Do you want it.

Instantly I hate myself for being so available.

Yes. Now. Obviously, he does. He takes barely thirty seconds to let me know.

I will come over I say.

No. I will pick you up. I want to take you somewhere.

Now I am intrigued. I can feel my heartbeat pick up the pace. It thuds. I think about my hair, my clothes, my make-up. I will have to do something quickly, before he arrives.

I have the keys to a shop that my friend is working on. I guess his friend is a builder, or something. Do you fancy christening it.

This scares me. I have never done anything so naughty, but I know I cannot refuse. If he wants to do it, then so do I. I tell him to come round immediately.

He drives slowly, his hand on my thigh. He has made no effort, but still looks divine. His hair is dark and messy, and stubble flecks his chin. Dark, penetrating eyes turn to glance at me. A smile, like we are old friends. I drink him in, clutching to his hand as if I may never see him again.

'Have you missed me?' he asks easily, staring straight ahead. Street-lights flash by in pools of neon and the radio is on so quietly that I can hear the swish of his tyres against the damp tarmac.

Bastard. You know I have. This is what I want to say. Instead, I smile coyly. 'Maybe.'

He rubs my leg, as if to reassure me. It's almost too much for him to say that he has missed me, or that I'm wonderful, or anything so romantic. So instead he just grips me, animal-like, to let me know that he wants me. 

I shake all thoughts of love away and look out of the window on my side. I will just enjoy this for what it is, before he takes it away again and I would kill to have it back.

We arrive at this place; it is dark and deserted, thankfully. He opens the door, sneaks me in. I feel dirty and dangerous, and I giggle uncontrollably.

He shushes me, flinging the keys on the side and pulling me to him. I almost want to faint from the happiness when his lips touch mine. His hands are on the small of my back, edging my t-shirt up. His tongue dips into my mouth like he is starving for me. I respond with all the passion I have had pent up in me, tugging on his bottom lip. He loves that. I hear him softly groan and pull me harder against him, his hands grappling up either side of me.

Then he thinks better of it and hoists me up. I laugh, alarmed, and instinctively wrap my legs around his waist. He rakes his hands through my blonde hair and kisses me once more, hard, then carries me over to the dark side of the room. I make out the shape of a counter, only just built, with no fancy details on it yet. It is just a piece of MDF or whatever they call that stuff, and he places me on it. The edges are rough and I can feel the sawdust against my clothes already. It smells warm and familiar. I say his name. 

'Where are you going?' He has wandered off into the shadows behind me, and I can hear things moving about. He drops something and curses.

He shushes me again. I must talk too much.

When he returns he tells me to sit up. I do, and he pulls my t-shirt over my head. In the half-light I can see his eye shining. His warm hands reach for my breasts, small though they are, cupped in soft red lace. 

'Red,' he breathes, 'you are so fucking hot.'

I am pleased he thinks so, and my nipples respond dutifully to his touch. He plays with them for a while, running his palms around the mounds they make, moving this way and that as if it is all new and wondrous to him. If only, I think, and the thought goes as quickly as it arrived for he is biting down on the top of my breast now.

It doesn't hurt. It makes me grab him, and a rush of heat tumbles between my legs. I can feel myself throbbing against the crotch of my jeans, literally aching for him. Nobody else ever made me literally ache.

Then he fumbles with my bra, rushed, as if I might magically vanish at midnight or something. He unclips it and it falls to the floor, forgotten. Faint moonlight illuminates the curves of my breasts, and from here they look quite impressive. Larger. Heaving gently as my breath quickens; giving my desire away. I fall back as he sucks my nipple frantically, clamping my wrists down. His breath is hot. 

'How bad do you want me?' he asks. His eyes are burning. From here I can see the change, even through this darkness. They are not his eyes anymore; he's possessed by lust for me. Me. A shudder, a thrill runs right through to my toes.

'Fuck me,' I say, with feeling. I want to regain control. I want to be in control, just for once. I can pretend that it's happening. 'Fuck me,' I repeat. 

He says nothing, just moves to the side of me, pulling my hands back.

'What are you doing?'

He has found a piece of cord. I understand the scuffling noises now. He binds my wrists tightly behind me. 

I whimper. He just smiles at me in that impish way; I am his puppet. My pussy throbs some more. I can feel the heat ready to burst. I am anxious for him to touch me. I tell him. 

'When I'm good and ready,' he murmurs, gently pushing me back onto the surface. My hands bunch beneath my back and force my chest up into the air. I have to stretch my neck to see what he's doing. All of my stomach muscles are pulled tight and my back is arched.

He murmurs as he strokes my flesh, running fingers teasingly down my stomach, stopping just where he knows I don't want him to. He unbuttons my jeans and pulls them roughly to the floor, leaving only a tiny red scrap of lace to cover me. I shuffle, trying pointlessly to break free. My clit is aching to be touched. I need to come. He loves my helplessness; the evidence is hard against his jeans.

'I'm going to push your legs so wide it hurts,' he whispers, beginning to barely run a finger against my pussy. I whimper, trying to push harder against it. But he just softens his touch further. He is totally in control.

'And then I'm going to ram my hard cock into you,' he continues, flicking it a little now, 'and fuck you so hard you scream.'

'Do it now, please,' I beg.

But he won't, I know this. He pulls his jeans down and I can see how much he wants me; his cock is solid. He walks to where my head is, and stares down into my eyes.

'Ask for it.'

I look back at him, transfixed. He is so utterly gorgeous; I want to feel every bit of him. 

'Please,' I say, my voice hoarse. I can barely manage anything more.

'Suck it,' he demands, thrusting his cock against my lips. I take the tip of it in, running my tongue around the head, flicking it. I crane my neck sideways to take more of him in, sucking hard and noisily. He likes it when he can hear my wet mouth around it, so I make it louder on purpose.

'Spit on it.'

I do, three times, until my mouth feels dry. Then I take it in again, as far as I can, and he watches intently as my soft mouth moves up and down his cock, now soaked and dripping.

Reluctantly he pulls it out and I look up at him. Silently he goes to remove my tiny thong, tossing it to the floor. He grabs two chairs and places them either side of me, then takes each of my legs in turn and lodges them behind the back of each until I am wide open; exposed. I could move them but I don't want to. I feel so erotic, displayed only for him in this dingy building site. The air swirls against my wet pussy. It tingles with the cold and I feel my toes curl.

He stands right before me and looks at it. A smile curls up on his lips. He licks them, then playfully rubs the tip of his erection against me. Round in circles over my clit. I moan and my back arches further. I want to say filthy things, disgusting things to this man who is teasing me, but I can't find the words and I fear saying them aloud might spoil it all. I am too ashamed to say what I wish he would do.

'Fuck me,' is all I can ask, again, in a desperate whimper. 'Make me come. I need to come.'

He pushes his cock in just a little, but it is almost enough. I cry out, resisting every urge to kick my legs or force myself up. 

Then he is on his knees, my servant for just a few heartbeats, running his tongue in lines up from top to bottom. I have never been this turned on; this desperate to be fucked. This man is making me want to behave like a dirty slut. He pokes his tongue into me then out, quickly then slowly, tasting my wetness.

Finally, he pushes it in. It feels so good I cry out loudly and repeat his name with a series of desperate words thrown in. This is everything my fantasy was but so, so much more.

He couldn't bear it anymore either. He is close to coming. He is colder than me but he is still a man; he is so turned on, his eyes are shut, his face screwed up. He looks gorgeous. I love him. I want him to do this to me everyday, forever. I daren't close my eyes in case he vanishes. 

I can feel the orgasm rising in my pussy as he thrusts into it. I can hear the wet slapping of his flesh on mine. Behind my back my fingers are bunching up, gripping my own skin, steadying myself.

I come just seconds before him, the pressure exploding within me. My whole body shakes and my back arches sharply, over and over, and I cry out. Something that isn't even a word, probably. I am panting like a dog; my lust is spent and I am quivering. 

He comes with a sharp cry, slumping against my stomach, pumping into me. I reach out and hold his shoulder, as if some part of this is mine. I can somehow claim him by what he is feeling with me, right now.

His shoulders rise and drop heavily and he exhales, slowly pulling out and standing up. He wipes his forehead. He is sweating an awful lot. 

He undoes my ties. I want nothing more than to pull him down to me, cradle him, sleep with him. I want to whisper how I love him and say it was wonderful, just wonderful, and I won't ever leave him.

But it's the wrong thing to do. He leans against the surface for a moment, catching his breath. And then he dresses, throws me my thong and jeans – it is a silent command. Dress.

I do, still shaking from the pleasure. My mind is rolling words and feelings; it feels wrong to be so wordless like this. But perhaps it is just his way. Maybe he will tell me how it was on the way home.

We dress and leave. He locks the door and walks to his car as if nothing has occurred. I slide in beside him. The engine is switched on. I am taken straight home.

I don't see him again for two weeks. Clearly what happened was enough to last him, either that or he is seeing other people. Deep down I know this to be true, but on the surface I would cry if I even let myself think he might do that with somebody else. In my world he belongs to me. These gaps between our meetings are simply there to make me want him more - I am almost convinced of it.

I think about that shop a lot. I wonder when it will be open. I fantasise about going down there, wherever it was, and walking inside. I would see people milling about, somebody stood behind that very counter, and I would smile smugly to myself. They have no idea we have fucked on that, I would say to myself, I want to tell them. But obviously I would never dream of doing that. 

He occupies my thoughts permanently. I replay every detail in my head. Every look, every touch, every single word he says. Maybe there are hidden meanings. Maybe I can salvage from the past some new revelation – that in fact yes, he does love me...and yes, eventually he will admit it. I go through every possible reason why this might be true.

I decide he has commitment problems. Trust problems, too. But no matter; he will come round eventually.

This time it is at my house. I have a small red lamp lighting up the room. It's sexy. It makes me look better, and it makes me feel like a porn star. In a good way.

I am lying on top of him and he is stroking the curve of my ass. He keeps doing it over and over so he must like it. I look him in the face.

'What?'

He laughs. 'Nothing. I didn't say anything. I was waiting for you to make a move on me.'

'Me?' I am nearly speechless.

His fingers stray between my ass cheeks. I know what he wants. I sit up and straddle him across the tops of his thighs. His cock is standing up hard just in front of my stomach. I hold it and move my hand gently, slowly. He smiles bigger and groans. 

'Don't tease me, babe.'

'Why not? You always tease me.'

'Please. Sit on me. Please.'

I can't refuse. He looks so adorable, as if he actually might get upset if I don't. I oblige and shift up, lowering my damp pussy onto his cock. It makes me gasp as it hits me deep inside, but he just makes a sort of satisfied grunt.

I move on him slowly. I am not so raw as last time. I still want it, but now it is more sensual and I hope that he is okay with that. But he wants it faster. He grips the flesh around my hips and rocks me.

It's building up now, down inside of me. His mouth is slightly agape; I know if he has it his way he will be done in about fifteen seconds. I slow it down. I stop completely, and just sit there, his cock nestled inside my pussy.

He opens one eye. 'Don't stop.'

'Too late. What's the rush?'

'You're making me so fucking horny, you're driving me crazy. I was about to come.'

I lean forward to kiss his lips. He doesn't seem interested in this, so I slide my tongue against his and then he responds. I delve into his mouth. His hands slide up my back.

'You know what I want?' he whispers, giving me that wicked smile again.

'What?'

He starts to get up so I move compliantly, shifting over to his left side. He tells me to get down on my hands and knees. I do this. Then he pushes my shoulders down so my face is pushed against the pillow, on its side, my ass sticking into the air.

'Doggy?' I say.

'Mmm...sort of.'

Then his tongue is pushed between my ass cheeks, licking circles. I squirm. I am not used to this. It feels dirty and I wonder why he wants to do it, but he holds me still and I feel his erection straining against my leg.

'Do you like anal?' he says in my ear, biting it softly.

'I don't know,' I reply, feeling myself tense up. I can imagine the pain. I don't know that I am horny enough for this. I don't know if I'm ready to give myself completely to him. 

This seems to turn him on immensely. I feel his finger against my asshole, probing softly. It feels strange, but my clit begins throbbing again and desire shoots down my thighs. Suddenly I want him more.

He slides his finger in deeper and I moan. I forget everything else and balance on one hand, reaching back for my pussy. My fingers find it and I rub, frantically, willing myself to orgasm.

'I like seeing you do that,' he says, 'you must really want me now.'

I do. I do, I do, I say to myself. I am concentrating too hard on the pleasure to try and answer back.

And then he starts edging it in. And it hurts, a little, but I am so turned on I barely notice or care, and he slides it so slowly in and out. I cry out. I can't believe I am going to come and he hasn't even touched my pussy. He is gasping loudly. He loves this. He has never mentioned it. I will feel hurt later, but not now.




Gone (Audio)



The audio version of my story .mp3 format or .ogg format. (15 min/mp3)

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Gone Away



Little of what I've been writing recently turns out suitable for this site. The majority of readers who comment seem intent on getting stories that repeat what they've already read and I can't see any reason to upset them with my stuff. But I wrote this some time ago, no doubt in response to something I'd read here, and it certainly takes place in the familiar terrain of LW unhappy marriages. It's a reflective piece and concentrates on thoughts and feelings and includes no sex. And be warned: I find life much more complicated than the black and white scenarios beloved by Anonymous of LW. As far as I'm concerned it's the ambiguity of the human condition that makes it worth writing about. So you have been warned. 

*********

When I arrived home from work I turned on the heating and began to cook dinner. Sausages and beans. I was hungry and too tired to prepare anything complicated. Unsure whether my wife would be home in time to eat, I cooked for two but finally ate alone in front of the television news with half a bottle of wine. Later, I began to worry about Sophie. I'd fallen asleep to the news and woken to a game show and was still alone. It wasn't uncommon for her to be delayed at work, but she mostly warned me if she expected to be later than nine. 

At ten I went round the house looking for clues. Had I forgotten a parents' evening or some other after-school event? Now I was jumpy, glancing out at the driveway every few seconds to see if she had arrived. What was the appropriate thing to do? Deciding I had waited long enough, I phoned her work, but there was no answer. I tried her mobile and was switched straight to voicemail. Ringing the police or the hospitals would be an over-reaction, I decided, and I talked myself out of driving to her work to see whether I could find her -- I'd be over the alcohol limit for driving. Calming myself with an effort, I decided she was delayed at school by an emergency, her mobile phone was discharged and she would be back at any moment. In bed I closed my eyes, expecting her to be home before I slept. 

The next morning I spent breakfast working things out. Surely I would have heard if Sophie had been in an accident; her driving licence with address was in her wallet. Deciding I must do something, I rang her work and was put through to the Head Teacher's secretary. Yes she knew Mrs Lambton. No, she didn't know where she was. She'd not been to school the day before and they were, in fact, intending to call me to ask where she was. I put down the phone and started to worry in earnest. Sophie wasn't the sort to skip work, and where could she have gone? For lack of anything better, I went to work. Mid-morning I rang my home, knowing it was futile, and listened to the phone ring in the empty house. 

It was time. I rang the police to tell them Sophie was missing. Just to say those words was a shock and I was trembling and finding it difficult to concentrate. Getting a grip, I understood the person I was speaking to was going down a stock list of missing person questions. When did I last see her? Any medical conditions? Had I checked other family? Did she have money or cards? Did she take anything with her? I didn't know and realised how incompetent I had been. Finding a missing married woman over the age of consent wasn't on the police list of important things and my ignorance added support for their view. But they would like me to give them a photo. I promised to do so.

So that was that. My wife now existed on a police missing persons file and I was on my own. I struggled to find what to do next. Eventually I decided to leave work and get the photograph for the police record. I went home after lunch and the house was still empty. Remembering the police checklist, I looked for anything missing and was startled to find a pile of empty clothes hangers in the corner of the bedroom and a missing overnight bag. Further search failed to discover her laptop and phone chargers. I called her phone and again it went to voicemail. 

"Sophie, this is Neville. I don't know where you are and I'm worried. Can you ring back?"

I called Sophie's parents and asked if they knew where she was. It was unusually her father who answered and he failed to sound especially worried or surprised and claimed to have heard nothing from his daughter. He chatted on, sounding embarrassed and conciliatory and so I was left knowing nothing but ready to believe the worst. 

I turned up at the local station and the police seemed to have no record of my previous call. Eventually they accepted the photograph after asking many of the questions I'd already answered. 

"So what do I do now?" I asked at the end of the interview. 

The policemen looked at me as if I had asked him how to boil and egg. "Go home and get on with whatever you do. Let us know if she turns up. Mostly they do."

He was an expert and understood what he was saying. Was there any alternative? I could think of none. But at home I had nothing better to do than puzzle over Sophie. I'm not an idiot and it didn't take long to make the obvious connections: absent wife, missing clothes, silence. She'd not had an accident or been abducted. She'd gone and there are few reasons why a wife sneaks out on her husband without a word. None of them had much appeal for me.

Now I knew the truth, should I have seen this coming? Of course I should. We'd been married five years and knew one another well enough. But we were both preoccupied with work, or so it seemed, and our life together was a routine of surviving the week and indulging ourselves at the weekend. We more or less kept one another company as we went through each day - ate meals, visited friends and relatives, shopped, improved the house, relaxed on holiday, slept. It was an animal companionability we all crave - unremarkable but necessary. There was nothing I could think of to suggest that Sophie was anxious for something more. She was content to do what we always did, enjoyed her work and was happy to let me take the initiative in most things. She liked shopping and good meals, where I indulged her. I was mostly good-tempered and didn't try to boss her about. We enjoyed our last holiday together in the winter in Venice. No moments of inattention came to mind, when she might have been privately missing a secret lover, or when my moody introversion seemed more than she could bear. We had our own interests as well. I liked sailing and mountain climbing and she disliked being wet and was afraid of heights. She liked country houses, gardens and museums, which I found dull. We fitted our lives around these idiosyncrasies without much trouble and neither of us was put out. 

And we were both hopelessly busy. If Sophie was having an affair, when did she find time? An affair would have involved suspicious phone calls to the house, awkward excuses to account for sudden absences. But of course, these days love affairs would be organised by text message, although I didn't recall Sophie's phone having a password or that she was careful to make sure I never had a chance to inspect it. It was rather the opposite. I couldn't recall her ever sending a text message. She would put the phone to charge in the kitchen and forget to take it with her. As for a lover, it was hard to imagine such a person. Sophie was a good-looking woman, but never coquettish or flirtatious, even when young. It had taken ingenuity and courage to prize her out of her library seat and girl set at uni and make a date with her. I thought of myself as a solitary adventurer when it came to storming Sophie's defences.

Long, solitary reflection led me to decide that she must be shacked up with someone from her work. I knew I would have to call the school again to check whether she had slipped back to her job. It was likely she wasn't missing at all; just hidden from me. Practising teachers couldn't change job mid-term, it wasn't allowed. She'd have never left her work after so long crawling her way up the lower slopes of teaching management. She just wouldn't. 

For a few days I was barely functioning, miserable and off work until I made myself go back. I couldn't talk about what had happened and did my best to submerge myself in routine. I tried to do the normal things, cooking myself a meal in the evening, read my yachting and literary magazines, catch up with some work and do the housework. But there was nowhere to hide. After a week the nightmare was broken by a call from the police. Sophie's car had been found in a car park in the city centre. I went to pick it up and paid a hefty penalty charge. When I was grumpy about the charge the attendant pointed out with relish the time and date on the parking slip: seven thirty a.m. on the morning she vanished. 

Shortly after, I had another call from the police. They had checked Sophie's bank account and she'd taken a thousand pounds in cash from the bank by the car park and had not touched her account since. These were different questions they asked me now, with purpose and tactics. Suddenly they were serious about finding Sophie. I agreed they could visit in the evening to look round the house.

Before they came, I went to her work and spoke to a deputy head teacher. He was a tall, blue-eyed rugby player and I watched him carefully as he assured me they had heard nothing from Sophie. He wanted me to understand it was a huge problem for them. She was head of the department of business studies and there was no one to teach her lessons or guide a department of novice teachers. I sympathised while thinking, "Is this my nemesis?" Mr Good Guy with designer stubble and gym biceps was bland and watchful. An affair with her line manager was corny enough to be true, but with this man? It made me miserable to frame the question.

I had nothing to lose and was miserable enough to think it was the turn of someone else to squirm.

"You know the police are looking for her?" I said. "Is that really all you know? I don't think they'll believe you."

Surprised, he thought before answering. "I don't know what you imagine, but really she's not been here. I only wish she were."

If there was a secret, he wasn't going to give himself away. I was a fool to imagine he would. 

"If you hear anything, let us know," the man continued. "She's a good colleague and we're really anxious about her and would like to know what's happened."

We eyeballed one another and once more I realised how far behind the game I was. If this man was my wife's lover he had been planning for this moment, rehearsing every line and mannerism of his pompous act. What chance did I have of finding the truth in my bereaved and emotional state? I was behaving like a madman, which was clearly what he thought I was. 

Retreating from this confrontation made me think again about whether Sophie had run to her unseen lover. If he was an invention of my disturbed imagination, then what else might have happened? She might have had a breakdown. Unable to cope with work any longer she had fled, too embarrassed to face those around her. It was possible, but if so she had hidden her mental state well. She was highly strung and had been working hard, but I didn't think she would snap. If it had happened she would have gone to someone for help. Her family? I remembered my awkward conversation with her father. Now I didn't know what to think.

I returned to another line of thought. What if instead of running off to her lover she had been abducted by an admirer - a stalker? She might have gone to the city centre before work to pick up a present, perhaps for a colleague, and been caught by the stalker in the car park. I must ask the police if they had checked the CCTV. 

The instant I stepped into the hall that evening I knew Sophie had been home. I moved cautiously to the kitchen, glancing into the sitting room. Had I heard or smelt something? Was she still there? I rushed upstairs as if to surprise a burglar and looked swiftly in each bedroom. Back in the kitchen I saw that my breakfast coffee cup had been moved from the table and was in the dishwasher. Beside it was a second dirty cup. I took it out and sniffed it. Only Sophie drank rose hip tea. I searched for the tea bag and it wasn't in the waste can or the organic, compostable waste. Outside in the dustbin I found it tucked into a plastic bag, still wet, with tissues and other rubbish. Clearly I'd not been meant to find it, but why such an incompetent effort to hide the evidence of her visit? I sat in the kitchen, but got up at once and looked for more clues. An hour's frantic search uncovered the possible removal of a pair of red shoes I was sure had been at the bottom of her wardrobe and a summer jacket which had hung on the purple velvet-cushioned hanger which now highlighted the space in the downstairs closet. 

It was worth informing the police. When I called, there was a long pause before I was put through to a female detective constable. She listened to my stumbling account of Sophie's phantom visit and then said: 

"Mr Lambton, I'd like you to come in and see me. I think we're making progress in looking for your wife and I'd like to get this case settled."

Was I a suspect again? The brisk detective sounded as if she had her suspect. 

"That's fine," I replied calmly. "Shall I come in now?"

"Tomorrow will do. Ten o'clock. Ask for DC Thompson."

I was there in good time and was taken to an interview room and sat alone for a few minutes before DC Thompson, a short, brisk woman with blonde cropped hair, took the seat opposite. She left the door open but the place had the appearance of a cell and I wondered if I was being interrogated. She sat with her hands square on the top of a file of papers, waiting for me to indicate that I was ready. 

"I'm glad to hear about your wife coming home Mr Lambton. It confirms that nothing's happened to her and that this is not a case for the police. You can be sure your wife's come to no harm. I was assigned to review the evidence and I'm satisfied there's nothing to investigate. Your wife waited for you to go to work and left home with an overnight bag. She wanted to leave without having to confront you. If you search your mind and are honest I'm sure you'll find the reason why. Maybe she was afraid of how you would react. Go home and think carefully about what you want to happen. You know she's safe. That's good news. Think about why she came home when you were at work to collect her things. I expect she needed something for her new life -- documents perhaps, or some possessions that were important to her. Whatever it is, she's sticking with her new life and doesn't want to see you."

I tried to speak, but she put up her hand. "There's more. We examined her work and private email. It's not what I expect you want to hear, but her emails are enough to show us that she had a plan to leave home and that there are no suspicious circumstances. Go home and sleep soundly tonight. You don't have anything to worry about, but you do have to come to terms with the change in your life." She opened the file on the desk and flipped through a few pages to remind herself of the details. I saw copies of emails with Hotmail headers. "Before she left she exchanged emails with a man, a friend she had clearly known for some time. They discussed her leaving and made arrangements to meet up. It's really not so unusual and I'm sorry, but that's the way it is. It was always the most likely explanation that she left you for someone else. Most missing persons aren't missing, they're hiding from someone - or everyone. I expect she couldn't face telling you and so she ran away."

So that was the explanation. I must have looked stunned because the DC was silent, giving me time to compose myself. I used the time to search through our last weeks together for clues I had overlooked, without finding anything significant. Eventually she said in a kindly way, "This has been a rough time for you. Go home, watch the football and forget everything for a while. Things will soon start to look better. Be thankful for good health, a house, a job and a future."

I finally came up with some words. "Who is this man she went to meet? It doesn't make sense. There was no time for her to get to know him. Where are they?"

Her reply came from the rule book. "No crime has been committed. Your wife left you by her own choice. She doesn't want to be found. The police are not concerned with why she did it and I have no reason to tell you who she met. As of today, the case is closed. She's no longer a missing person. Move on. If you have to know where she is, get yourself a solicitor. There are likely to be civil reasons, legal or financial, why she has to communicate with you, even if it's through your solicitors."

The DC's phone rang again and she stood up, impatient to get on. I remained seated, as if still paralysed by events. As she walked to the door, back turned, speaking into her phone, I leaned forward, turned the file and flipped through the papers until I came to the Hotmail headers. There were dozens, mostly short and copied into a continuous list, page after page. I glimpsed the pet name 'Dibble', which was my name for Sophie. The email address of the man was H.P.Hardiment and I noticed the sign-off: 'Harry'. Harry Hardiment. I read a random sentence in the middle of a message -- "now it won't be long and then we can be happy" -- but DC Thompson turned back. I straightened up, leaving the file where it lay. Maybe she knew what I'd, but she said nothing and put out her hand to shake mine and conclude the meeting.

"I have to get on. Go home, ring off sick. Things will look better tomorrow." 

I thanked her and left. Strangers were kind by instinct to the hard-pressed, but the world stank all the same. A little kindness was no antidote even to the tiniest prick of this venom. As I wandered back through the shopping centre I watched the mothers pushing buggies, retired men on their way to the library, youngsters in a group -- the world away from work. It was a long time since I'd been in the town centre in the mid-morning. Life had tilted on its side and was tipping me helpless into the daylight. 

By the time I reached home I had a plan. The start was an energetic cleansing of the house to remove Sophie's things, thinking all the while of Harry Hardiment. It had a familiar sound, but did I know the name? I worked on, filling rubbish bags with the contents of drawers and cupboards, the name nagging away at me. When the bags filled the hall, I loaded the car and took them to the charity shop in town. It was then, after I dumped them and paused to glance at the books on display in the shop window, that the idea came. I'd seen an old maintenance handbook on Mini cars and flipped through the pages. I'd owned a Mini at University, not as an antique but as the real thing, an economical form of transport. But its rotting body and leaky engine had cost most of my spare time to keep it on the road. Looking at the oil-stained book I sensed an unexplained connection with Harry Hardiment. It bugged me all the way to the municipal tip, where I dumped a huge unsalable collection of Sophie's possessions. 

As I released the load of waste into the cruncher, I was struck by a painful thought and couldn't get home quickly enough. The instant my PC had booted, I sent emails to the two acquaintances I still knew from University. With that done, I spent another few hours clearing the house of reminders of Sophie until I was tired and fell asleep in front of the television. When I woke it was evening and I didn't want to be alone in the house. I went to a pub and watched football. The next day I went to work and managed pretty well.

On the way home I bought a chilled madras curry and nan bread and ate and showered before opening my email. There was one reply to my enquiry: Harry Hardiment had been student union president in my final undergraduate year at university.




Gone Away



It was a long search through the boxes in the roof, but eventually I found a souvenir copy of the student union magazine complete with a picture of the bastard, shining and smug with long hair, a Frank Zappa moustache and a report of a speech of his as president. 

I replied to the email: any idea how to contact good old Harry? The reply came before I'd finished making coffee. "Don't know, but I'll pass it on to others."

Two days later there was an answer, culled from someone who had spoken to Harry at a reunion. He worked in Marketing for a bank in the City. A quick internet search produced the address of the bank's head office in Moorgate. 

It didn't need much planning. I caught the first train and was outside the bank by 7.30, prepared to spend the whole day tracking my prey. Already there were people arriving so I might have missed Harry, but I thought not. It was a busy place with one main entrance and a high proportion of female and young employees. It wasn't so difficult therefore to stand across the road, walk up and down, and scrutinise every thirty-five-plus male.

At eight fifty-five I spotted what looked like my target and crossed the road, confident I wouldn't be recognised. There was no facial hair, a receding hairline and heavy-rimmed glasses, a dark grey suit and polished brogues. Harry was speaking into his phone and looked at nobody as he pushed his way through the revolving door. I followed him inside as far as the security barrier where I paused. Harry flashed his pass and strode on; I asked the guard whether I was in the Bank of England. We had a problem understanding one another as his language wasn't English and by the time I withdrew, I had watched Harry take the lift to the higher reaches of the building. 

I wasn't prepared to take chances. Now I'd had a close look at Sophie's lover I was confident of seeing him leave. I withdrew to a Starbucks across the road and prepared to wait all day. He might leave at lunchtime and not come back. Or he might take flexitime and leave mid-afternoon to hurry home to prepare a meal for Sophie. In the event it was six coffees and three walnut and apricot cakes later when Harry came out. He was in a hurry and I scrambled to keep up.

He walked to Bank and we took the Central Line tube to East Acton. Out in the street he walked for ten minutes to a modern flat in a residential cul de sac. He didn't challenge me, look round, or show the least interest when I followed through the entrance door behind him before it closed. There were a dozen flats in the building on four floors. He took the lift and I took the stairs, pausing on each floor to check whether the lift stopped. It wasn't difficult. I arrived on the top floor at the same time as the lift and waited in the stairwell, holding open the door an inch to watch Harry take out his key and unlatch his door. 

"Well Harry, I'm your worst nightmare." I stood behind him, having pushed him forward into his flat as he opened the door. He turned swiftly, dropping his keys, and I pushed him again, anxious to keep my advantage as I wasn't sure who would prove the better fighter. He was four or five stones heavier, but it was mostly flab. All the same, his was a heavy build. 

"Get out!" he muttered, collecting his thoughts. "Get out of here."

"Where is she Harry?" I had looked round swiftly for a sign of Sophie, but there was nothing. 

"Where's who?" He was struggling with his pocket and pulled out his phone. I knocked it out of his hand and pushed him again. He retreated towards the kitchen.

"Don't go in the kitchen Harry. Where is she?"

"There's nobody here. What do you think you're doing? Get out of my home."

He was frightened, his curly black locks sticking out like brushes above his ears. I glanced round, still anxious to know whether Sophie was there. Through an open door I could see a bedroom with a double bed, but no evidence of a female occupant. I was suddenly afraid that I'd not get what I wanted. More terror was necessary. Harry had stopped retreating, watching warily, waiting his moment. I reached out and grabbed his neck, fingers in his collar. The touch of his sweaty bristled neck was a shock, but I took a firm grip, thumb round collar and tie so that when I twisted my hand the cloth was like a garrotte. He lifted his hands to his neck and I could see the fear now in his eyes and beads of sweat on his forehead.

"Please. Don't. What do you want?"

I twisted harder and Harry sank to his knees. After about a minute I let off the pressure a little. 

"Don't be afraid Harry. Just tell me."

"I'll call the police if you threaten me."

"They know about you Harry. It was the police found you for me." 

"I've not done anything."

"You're the prime suspect. A woman disappears. She's been groomed by some seedy banker. You can bet they're interested in you Harry. It's just that I wanted to speak to you first."

"Sophie's not here."

It was a shock, the admission that he knew her, even though I knew.

"Progress! You know where she is."

"She's never been here."

"I don't know that."

I twisted the tie recklessly and the collar of his shirt tore from the neck. "Tell me everything you know."

He was red-faced and gasping and put up his hand to indicate surrender.

"Then let go. I'll tell you what I know, but I've done nothing wrong." 

I let him up and for a while he knelt on the floor, hands resting on a coffee table, collecting his breath, or his courage. He didn't look at me.

"Yes, we arranged to meet. For old time's sake. We met at a restaurant in Soho. I suppose we talked for a few hours, ate the meal, and she left."

"Not enough Harry. I know better than that."

"I know who you are. You're Neville." He'd recovered some confidence and it came out like childish bravado. "Susan spoke about you and I can see you're full of self-righteous anger. But you must accept -- we were together first. I'm the one who should feel aggrieved."

What did he mean? It was said with a frustrated, petulant expulsion of breath. Was he trying to claim that Sophie was his girlfriend before she was my wife? She'd never mentioned him, but..." There were too many lines of thought to explore now.

"If you're telling the truth Harry, you're the last person to have seen Sophie. Start worrying. She came to see you and hasn't been seen again. She's vanished."

"No."

"Did she spurn you? Did you murder her Harry?"

"Of course not. Don't be ridiculous. Really, I...I"

I pulled Harry to his feet and pushed him back against the wall. He was shaking, hardly able to stand. For that brief moment it felt right to give my feelings their freedom. I saw a new bottle of whisky standing on a sideboard beside a little wine rack. Lifting the bottle by the neck, I smashed the base on the edge of the large plasma television and turned back to Harry with the bottle held as a weapon. He collapsed at once. He knew better than me what I might do. 

"She's working in Bloomsbury. I don't know where she's staying. We met a few times at my insistence. I'm on my own and I admit I wanted to get something going but it didn't work. She led me to expect more but she didn't want me. She's not been here; that's the truth. I've not touched her. I've never been to where she's staying. She won't meet me any more. It's a small publisher where she's working -- Skimpole and Stephen or something like that -- in Gordon Square. She's working as a proof reader."

"Okay Harry. Temporarily your life is spared. Enjoy your miserable evening." I threw the bottle so that it shattered against the mirror on the far wall of his sitting room, showering the place with glass. "Don't get up, I'll show myself out. As you say, I'm full of self-righteous anger and I may just feel I want to discharge some more of it. What better way than coming back to slap you around a bit more? You make the effort worthwhile."

Now he sensed his ordeal was over, the words began to flow. "You're scum, you're a sanctimonious thug, you have no right to behave like this, if Sophie ran away from you it's good riddance, you're not worthy of her, you screwed up her life, you're a bastard. "

Harry rose, a superior, disdainful look on his face as if to show that the damage I had caused was nothing to him. On impulse I caught his collar again and this time kneed him in the groin, collapsing him to the floor once more. 

"That's for being a smug cheater. Let me know when you want some more," I said, but suddenly sober. Harry wasn't a worthy enemy by half. 

The door was open in the flat below as I went down the stairs and an old woman peered out, scared by the noise. 

"Your upstairs neighbour, Mr Hardiment, really shouldn't bring his tarts back to a respectable house like this. It's not fair on the other residents," I said as I passed. 

By the time I shut the entrance door my satisfaction had turned to revulsion and despair - revulsion at the bully I'd unleashed, despair at the thought of Sophie. Did I believe Harry that nothing had happened between them? Clearly he'd said as little as he could get away with -- no mention of the email conversation or the arranged elopement. I struggled to treat the idea objectively -- it was so far from what I'd imagined. I had been prepared to find them together, snug in bed or sitting at the breakfast table sipping wine and such a scene would have be worthy of my violence. I'd had no relief or satisfaction from what I'd done. Whether or not they'd been to bed, an affair had been planned. And what had Harry meant by being the first? Back on the tube into the West End, I was fairly sure that Harry had been lying when he said that nothing had happened. More likely they had got together, did their best to flash up the old passion, and only then, in the scattered bedclothes, did they realise that the whole seedy adventure was ridiculous. 

Did I want to find Sophie? The story I'd pieced together was pretty much complete and there was no need for another act. Sophie had known Harry before she met me. It took time to accept the fact, but I now did. Somehow - it didn't matter how - they had got in touch and he had convinced her she loved him still. It was an old story: youthful passions recaptured. First love. A nostalgia for past, happy times when life was simple and lacked the burdens of adulthood. Maybe they had been getting together for some while. Anyway, he must have convinced her she should leave me and live with him. Too ashamed to tell me of her betrayal, she eloped to start a new life with her lover. And playing to her script of deceit and betrayal, I had completed the drama, tracked down her lover and exacted my revenge. End of story. Let the lovers rot in hell. 

Did Sophie want to be found so that we could have a final cathartic unreconciliation scene? A drama in which I would make myself thoroughly unpleasant and validate her choice in leaving me? It was conceivable. Hide and seek is a poor game unless you find the person hiding at the end. That night in my hotel in Earl's Court I worked out that I wanted to see her. If there was another act, it was the one in which the foolish wife confesses her sins and begs to be taken back. I decided I had to be there for the climax.

I called my work and took another day's leave so that I was outside the publisher's office in Bloomsbury at eight the following morning. There was nowhere for me to hide and I waited for an hour across the street, leaning against the railings and pretending to fiddle with my phone. There was no one about to take notice, but if there had, I looked as suspicious as a suicide bomber muttering religious verses and with an explosive belt bulging from underneath his tee shirt. And the fact -- a grimy, unshaven male, fuelled by despair, sexual jealousy and violent revenge, I was much the same as one. 

The publishers was in the basement of a terrace house of the kind that gave the square its Georgian character. Of course if she and Harry were seeing one another he would have warned her of my visit. She would stay away from work, maybe slip off once more into the anonymous mass of Londoners. I was apprehensive and restless with unspent energy. If Harry had been around I'd have enjoyed kicking him a few more times just for the pleasure of relieving my feelings. After a while I realised I was wound up by the prospect of meeting Sophie. 

It was late, after ten, and I was about to give up. I turned away from the publishers, looking for the nearest way to the tube, and stepped aside as she dashed past me and down the steps to the building. She didn't look up. Head down, bag clutched to her chest, she was in a hurry to get to work.

I'd seen Sophie and she was gone in one flash -- a glimpse of a timid creature lost in her trivial business was my reward for hours of waiting. I almost convinced myself I'd got what I'd come for. I'd seen my wife and I should have known it would give me no satisfaction. I could go home or consign myself to hours more waiting. Really, I didn't care for her enough. Not after what she'd done. But I thought hard and decided to wait. What was a few more hours out of five years wasted on a dead marriage? 

I bought myself cheap binoculars in a little camera shop and retreated to the leafy park in the square, seated where I could keep a discreet and distant view of the door. She didn't leave for lunch. Nobody came in or out until after four. Then a group came out together and I almost missed Sophie. I ran to catch them up. She was among the group as they walked to Euston station and I tagged along a few steps behind. They split in the ticket hall and Sophie took the escalator to the Victoria Line. 

There followed a farcical chase across the West End. She walked slowly and I was in a hurry -- down escalators, pressed to the end window of the carriage next to hers in the tube, watching her stare at nothing. It wasn't difficult to avoid being seen by her among the crowds and in any case she never looked round. It seemed Harry hadn't warned her I was close. We meandered through the crowds at Oxfords Circus to the bistro cafeteria in John Lewis via the handbags and haberdashery and shoes. I wondered if she was meeting someone. It was the sort of place to eat ice cream or cake with a female friend after work.

I joined the queue for coffee and watched her buy soup. Delaying over the cream cakes, I joined the payment queue a few places behind her. She never looked round and carried her tray to a bench seat by the window. She was tired and sat for a moment motionless while I stood behind her and calmed myself. I watched her butter her roll and stir her soup to cool it. 

"Hello Sophie."

Overdramatic, perhaps, because she was startled and spilled her soup. It occurred to me that she might run away again, so I sat on the bench beside her, blocking her way out. 

"Neville." She picked up the spoon and wiped the spilled soup from the handle. It was a controlled performance and I smiled, struck by the idea that she might slip to the floor and crawl under the table to get away from me. "How did you find me here? Why have you come?"

"No need to freak out Sophie. It's good to see you and I'll only disturb you for a moment. How did I find you? Is that really important?"

I made up the words as my prepared speech had vanished, my hand trembling with the effort of this confrontation. What was I so eager to tell her? I could not describe my anger and hurt. Perplexed, I rose and took the seat opposite her across the table so that I could see her face. If she wanted to run, I shouldn't stop her.

"I'm not here to make you come home."

"Drink your coffee Neville." She nudged the mug in my direction, her lips compressed. We looked at one another with a curiosity that had been missing for years. She'd cut her hair a little shorter and it made her look younger. I'd always told her I liked it long. And she had coloured her lips and eyelids with makeup. I searched for what I recognised, disturbed by reminders of how we had loved one another. My feelings betrayed me -- why care for a woman who had abandoned me? I felt my anger rising and fought to stay calm. Instead of shouting, I told her I was very well and that I was not there to accuse her of wickedness. She nodded as if she expected nothing more, but was silent. 

"I've seen Harry." I paused and watched her response. She remained silent, but there was alarm in her eyes. "I suppose I'm looking for what I think is called closure -- a way of getting on with the rest of my life. You got yours by walking out and starting life again with your lover. But I didn't know. At first I thought you'd had an accident. It took a while to see the truth and I need to tie up the threads."

She held up her head and for the first time met my eyes with an honest look, as if unaware until that moment of the impact of her actions. 

"It's not your fault. It's mine. If you've spoken to Harry you know that nothing happened. It was a mistake, but don't worry, I'm not asking you to take me back. I know that's not possible. I've shown myself to be untrustworthy and selfish. I'm unworthy of you."

She'd left me and it was a mistake? "But what did you have in mind? What did I do that made you run away from me?"

"You did nothing. I thought I'd made a mess of my life and decided I had to start again. I was unhappy and no good for you. I felt better planning my new life with Harry. It seemed to make sense of my life, once I'd accepted that I was a selfish, lying, cheating bitch. But that was only the truth. I never intended to hurt you. The way I saw it was that if I disappeared without a word you wouldn't find out what I'd done and you wouldn't feel betrayed. Day by day you'd forget about me and gradually you'd adjust. I understand if that makes you bitter, but I didn't mean it to."

I shrugged. It seemed self-pitying now to make the point of the conversation my pain. Her misery trumped mine and that wasn't any consolation. 

She continued. "And I don't know what to say. I don't want to do any more harm. We were so comfortable together we barely spoke. We worked hard, but that was to escape the lack in the rest of our lives. Come on Neville, our marriage was nothing to be proud of."

"I was happy."

She flinched. "Harry listened to me and I thought we deserved to see what we could make of ourselves together. He deserved some time with me. One makes very few close friends in life and they have to be cherished. Why should I ignore the only person who could make me feel good? Come on, you must know that our relationship had hit the buffers."

"I cherished my marriage."

"I knew I was being selfish, putting my needs first, but why not? Why go through life and feel you've missed out? Yes, I left you thinking I'd make a new life with Harry. Yes, I was ashamed to confront you with what I was doing, so I crept away when you weren't home. I knew it was wrong but I still did it. And yes it was a mistake. I knew the instant I met Harry. I'd confused my dreams with reality. Harry was nothing more than the catalyst for my imagination. Don't humiliate me by saying I'm stupid."

She looked at me searchingly and I did my best to remain impassive. In fact I was numb -- relieved in a way to be with her and to have my questions answered, but unable to imagine picking up our lives together. 

"You have somewhere nice to live?" I asked. 

She laughed. "This is London. Only bankers live well. What I have is like a room in a student house. It's okay, makes me feel young. I'll see whether I can get a teaching job for next term. That should set me up financially. London is desperate for experienced teachers and I have nothing to do but throw myself into my work."

"Will your old school give you a reference?"

"I'll get a doctor's note to say I had a breakdown. Isn't that what happened?"




Gone Away



"I don't know. Look Sophie, I don't know what's for the best. If I'm to be a bachelor I'd rather have a flat in the centre of town and lose the commuting. We have to make decisions. Sell the house and you'll have some money too, though what you can buy with it in London I don't know."

"You decide what to do. I'll agree to whatever you want."

"No. That's another escape, another betrayal. We came this far together and we'll make these decisions together where they involve us both. Then you can do what you want."

"I abandoned my rights when I ran away. I don't expect to be consulted."

"Stop playing the martyr. I'm not out to avenge my hurt feelings. I want to do what's for the best. The starting point is to sell the house. At some point everything comes back to money, and you need money now. So do I."

"You're also saying we have no more need of our marital home. Am I right?"

I nodded. "Even now we have virtually nothing to say to one another and you can't speak to me without putting on an act. You can't be yourself with me."

She thought about this. "But I shan't lie to you now. Perhaps this face is the real me, the person I'm growing into."

"The new person needs a new life. Let's cut our losses and admit we made a mistake getting married. I'm mad with you for causing me so much pain, but I don't want to blight the rest of your life. If you'd stopped loving me and wanted to move on, you should have said so. It was a coward's way to run off without a word. Whether or not you're Harry's lover, you rejected me. You left to look for someone better."

"I never stopped loving you but I thought I made you unhappy and that you were the wrong person for me. It's pointless to be unhappy together. Now I'm not so sure. Life's not so simple as I thought."

"You haven't found the right man. I'm not waiting around while you make up your mind. I'm moving on. No point in dwelling on failure. I don't hate you; I feel care and concern for you. That's nature's revenge. We pair off and bond through proximity as much as anything else. I can't switch off after being so long with you. But in a marriage your husband should be the one. There's no room for experimentation."

"I care for you. I thought running away would hurt you least. That way you didn't have to know I'd run to another man. At least, that's what I thought."

"You'd rather I imagined you dead than a cheat?" 

"I'm sorry but it seemed the right thing at the time."

"When I realised you'd eloped to meet your lover, I couldn't think how you'd found the time for a secret life. We were both so busy. So tell me Sophie, about Harry. Was he your first lover and how come you never mentioned him to me?"

She shook her head, then nodded. "If you really want to know. Yes, he was the first. In my first year at uni, long before I met you. I didn't mention him because at the time when we met, when I was eighteen, he seemed like ancient history, completely irrelevant to you and me. And I was insecure -- I didn't think you mentioned past lovers to your boyfriend. Harry was confident and well-connected and I was naïve and yes I fancied him like mad. But we had nothing in common, or so it seemed. He was always busy making his career with the union and I was working hard. I didn't think what we'd done was serious. But then, when he contacted me, I realised I still had feelings which I'd shut inside me all those years. We exchanged emails for ages. It was so innocent. I wasn't planning an affair. It was just that he was a friend, I was having a hard time, work was a struggle and I had no one to confide in. I couldn't talk to you because I was afraid of loading my problems onto you. And yes, already the worm of deceit was working into me, making me feel that I must pull away from you to protect us both emotionally -- make a small space so that I could share with Harry without harming us. It was never about sex, but how does a woman have a friendship with a man without sex getting into it? He looked out for me. He came home from work and sent me an email because he was worried about how I was getting on. How at the end could I deny him sex if that's what he wanted? 

"Yes, I left you to go to the man who I thought would care for me for the rest of my life. I thought we understood one another and would be happy. Separating from you would be painful, but ten years from now I would be grateful for what I'd done. And you'd be happier too. You don't want a loveless harridan holding you back. It was the right thing to do -- right up to the moment Harry and I met."

She was crying and I was sorry for her. She'd admitted her mistake and wanted to come home. She wouldn't ask but her eyes were pleading with me. In our relationship it was I who put things right and I was meant to forgive and say we could go back to how things were. That if we tried harder we could reignite our relationship and make it work.

She was sorry I'd been hurt, but I couldn't forget she'd worked out her elopement knowing it would injure me. I was unavoidable collateral damage which made me very angry and always would. I struggled to work out what I wanted to happen. I cared for her, there was no doubt, but could I go back? It seemed to me that I only thought it an option because I was afraid of being alone. I'd been in hell and my life could be just about to get a lot worse. But that wasn't a good reason for taking Sophie back.

Her taut features relaxed and she smiled. "Neville, let's go for a drink. There are things I need to say to you. If this is really the end I'd like us to part friends."

"I'm sorry Sophie, a drink would make me choke. I can't forgive you for what you did. The pain goes too deep. It's not just a scar but a vital wound. We need to speak to one another, but we're not friends any more who can relax together."

She recovered quickly. Her face was closed and she drew herself in, ready to continue her battle with the world. Perhaps I had only said what she expected and was prepared for my rejection. 

"I'm sorry Sophie," I said, squeezing her arm.

She flinched, but replied equally breezily. "Me too. Be good Neville."

And we went our separate ways. 

The End



Gone Before Sunrise



It was late, and Josh was bored with his late night graveyard shifts. He had taken this job a few months ago, thinking how easy it would be to work graveyards at a motel. It freed up his daytime, and the nights would be so slow that he could focus on some writing. Tonight was definitely slow, but he had writer's block and a semi-hard cock. He decided to browse through some dirty ads online, in the hopes of rubbing one out. However, one ad in particular caught Josh's eye. 

NSA tonight!

Female to Male trans-boy seeks to hookup with a man. Horny guy with a pussy!

Hope to find Mr. Right Now. 

Call Adam 555-1111

This immediately piqued Josh's interest, and he could feel it in his groin. Wasting no time, they exchanged a phone call, and soon enough the mysterious boy from the ad was on his way to Josh's hotel.

In the meantime Josh got himself ready by watching sultry adult videos in the back room lounge. As he watched the bisexual threesome unfold on the screen, he stroked himself expectantly. He didn't hear the click of the door behind him.

As Adam entered the back of Josh's office he heard a faint moan. When he opened the door he found the shadow of Josh fondling himself; "Well, hello." Adam said.

He apologized, embarrassed; "Sorry man, it's been awhile." 

Covering himself with a pillow, Josh studied the young man before him. He was tall and broad shouldered, with dark hair and soft eyes. He had a faint beard, wearing jeans and scuffed boots. He really didn't have a hint of femininity.

"I'm getting a little nervous, Adam. Are you sure you were born a girl?"

"I'm sure." He said.

"I'm not gay, you know."

"That doesn't really matter." 

Sitting next to Josh, Adam grabbed one of his hands. He placed it under his sweatshirt, and Josh could feel that Adam had soft breasts. Josh began playing with Adam's nipples, becoming excited to now understand what's finally happening. Moving the pillow aside, he pulled Josh's cock out slowly, and deliberatly. 

"The phone could ring at any moment, so we can't get too carried away." 

"Uh-huh..." Adam replied.

Adam put his tongue to the tip of Josh's head, licking and teasing him. At this point both of Josh's hands were full; he couldn't stop touching Adam's tits. He could feel those nipples growing in his hands as his cock swelled to meet Adam's tongue. Suddenly, they heard someone in the lobby, and had to stop. Josh put his cock away quickly; he couldn't afford to be caught.

"I have a lodger to take care of. Look how hard I am already! Will you wait for me?"

"Well I wouldn't want to give you blue balls." Adam smirked.

"Look, here's a key to the room down the hall, I'll take care of this and meet you there shortly."

"That sounds good."

A little while later, Josh began to walk over to Adam's room. The customer had taken up more time than Josh would've liked, about thirty minutes. He approached the room, and twisted the doorknob.

Adam was there, lying on the bed. The bluish light from the television was cast over Adam's sleeping body. Josh became a little frustrated. He had not come this far just to jerk off! He sat at the edge of the bed and really wanted to pick things up again. Cautiously he lifted Adam's shirt; he was just dying to see those breasts that moments ago he was holding. Josh touched them, hesitant at first. He then lay next to him, and ran his tongue across Adam's dark nipples. To Josh's surprise, Adam was still asleep.

Feeling bold now, Josh pushed his hand past Adam's stomach, and down the front of his underwear. He started rubbing the warm, wet pussy he discovered. Adam's clit was an inch long, and Josh held it between his fingers briefly. He then gently tugged on it, and it felt like a tiny wet cock to him. 

Climbing on top, he pressed his whole body against Adam, rubbing his erection between Adam's legs. He exposed Adam's pussy, opening the lips, and rubbing the head of his cock over Adam's massive clit. Pre-Cumming, he could barely contain himself, and he pushed it in a little bit. Pushing in a little more, he took one of Adam's nipples into his mouth and began sucking. 

Adam began to wake, as Josh kissed him deeply, keeping him quiet. He continued to penetrate Adam's tight pussy as they made out. 

Josh pulled out and rolled on his back, jerking. Adam got on top of him, grinding his wet clit over Josh's shaft and balls until he came, Josh finished jerking until he came.

After cleaning up, Josh put his pants on, and zipped up. He turned and smiled at Adam.

"Check-out time is at nine 'o clock."

"Forget it Josh, I'll be gone before sunrise." 



Gone BLACK...Again!



I had always been fairly shy and conservative when it came to sex. My husband had always tried to get me to relax and try new things. I would fantasize with him during sex, but afterward never acted on those fantasies. My favorite fantasy was the one where I found a black guy and fucked him. I had been with a black guy once before and knew it was wonderful, but still was too shy to be with anyone other than my husband now that we are married.

My husband had been away from home for a couple of weeks and I was beginning to feel lonely. Would it really be so bad if I went out and had a good time for a change? I made plans to take my daughter to her grandparents' house for the night so I could stay out late. After I dropped her off, I went back home to get dressed. I took a long, hot bath to relax and prepare myself to let go and have fun. I decided I would ditch the housewife look for one night and pretend I was a single woman looking for a good time.

I put on my makeup and wore my hair down. Next, I picked out a sexy matching black lace bra and thong set to. I felt so sexy already. I had picked up a "club dress" at the store earlier in the week just for this night. It was a red, body hugging mini-dress that showed off my large breasts and my ass. I grabbed my cell phone and keys and headed out the door.

I met a couple girlfriends at the club and we sat and chatted while having some drinks. After a few drinks, I was feeling relaxed and enjoying myself, so we decided to have some fun and dance. When we went back to the table, a couple of black guys had come in and were sitting at the table next to us. We all started chatting and I noticed how hot these guys were. One of them asked me if I wanted to dance. I told him I was married, but appreciated his offer. He just laughed and told me he didn't care, it was just dancing. Even though my brain was screaming not to, I decided to ignore it and dance with him anyway. Out on the dance floor, we had a great time together. During one of the songs, he pulled me up close and that is the first time I noticed he was getting hard!

I tried to pull away, but he whispered in my ear to relax and just go with it. I started remembering all the times during sex with my husband that we had talked about how hot it would be to have another story about fucking a black cock. This was my chance to have a new story! I started getting wet thinking about fucking his black cock and then making my husband get all hot and turned on when I told him about it.

I relaxed against him, but turned away from him to where my ass was rubbing against his hard cock. Once I did that, he leaned in my ear and asked me if I wanted to get out of the crowded club and go somewhere more private. My heart skipped a beat when he asked me to go with him... could I really do this? I shyly answered him and told him ok as long as we came back before my girlfriends knew I was gone. He grinned at me and just gave a sexy laugh as he grabbed my hand and led me off of the packed dance floor and out of the club. He led me to his car and we climbed in.

As soon as we were in the car, he grabbed my head and started kissing me. After completely taking my breath away with his kisses, he slowly trailed his mouth down my neck and to my chest. His hands were all over my body and my skin was on fire. Just as quickly as he started, he stopped. He told me it was time to go back in before anyone knew I had left. I couldn't move. I was craving more. I needed more. As I sat there staring at him in shock, he gave me a devilish grin and asked if I wanted to go back to his place. I just nodded my head, which was answer enough for him.

I took off and headed toward his house. It didn't take long to get there, but it felt like forever. He walked me in the house and to the bedroom. I wanted so badly to be shy again and leave, but my body wouldn't let me. He grabbed me before I had a chance to leave and pushed my body up against the wall. He pulled me top part of my dress down while he assaulted my mouth again. I managed to slide my dress the rest of the way off, and when he saw this, he told me to get naked and get on the bed. I did as he told me and he quickly got naked as well. I had been with a black guy before, but OMG, this guy's cock was so much bigger! I really didn't even know if it would fit in my pussy. I froze up and he asked me what was wrong. When I told him, he laughed at me and told me not to worry, it would be the best fuck I'd ever had. He started sucking my nipples and rubbing on my pussy. I was wetter than I had ever been in my life. He slipped one finger inside my pussy and then two, then three. I already felt so full with just three fingers, I still couldn't imagine being able to take his cock.

After he had stretched me out some with his fingers, he rolled over to his back. I knew exactly what to do. I leaned over him and licked all over his huge cock. I took the tip in my mouth and used my hands to wrap around the rest of it. I worked my tongue all over the tip until he began to moan. I gradually took more and more into my mouth. I worked it up and down and tried to ignore my gag reflex as I tried to take in as much of him as I could. When I couldn't take anymore and tried to pull away, he grabbed my head and forced it back down. I couldn't get away from his strong grip. The only choice I had, was to suck him and make him happy. Being forced to suck on his cock now was making me even wetter. I had never been dominated like this before. All of a sudden, I felt his cock get even harder and he let out a loud moan. I began to feel his warm, salty cum filling my throat. I wouldn't even swallow for my husband, but this was different. I was a slut tonight. I had to do this.

After he came, he didn't say a word, but got up and walked out of the bedroom. He wasn't gone for long, but when he came back, he wasn't alone. One of his friends from the club was standing there with him completely naked and with a huge, hard, black cock! He silently walked over to me and put his cock in my face. I didn't think twice and took it into my mouth. After several minutes of sucking his cock, he pulled out of my mouth and pushed me back on the bed. He asked me if I had ever had a black cock in my white pussy, and when I said yes, he asked if I had ever had a black cock in my mouth and another one in my pussy at the same time. When I said no, he moved up to my mouth and put his cock in my mouth. When I started sucking again, I felt the first guy push my legs apart. I was so hot now, that I needed his cock pounding my pussy. He pushed in slowly at first, but then suddenly pounded into me hard. I couldn't do anything but moan against the cock in my mouth and grind my pussy against the cock inside of it. It didn't take long before I was cumming. I had never cum that hard before. It seemed to go on forever. Just as I was finishing, the cock in my pussy started pumping loads of black cum into it. 

As soon as he finished, he got up and started sucking my nipples again. His friend told me it was his turn with my pussy now. He pushed into my now soaked pussy. He began thrusting harder and harder. I had never felt this good before. I was already about to cum again when I felt a hand start rubbing my clit. I instantly exploded into an even more massive orgasm. Right after I started cumming, he did too.

I now had cum from not one, but two black cocks in my pussy. Once we were finished, I could barely stand up to get dressed. When I stood, I felt the cum start running from my pussy, down my thigh. There was so much of it. I got cleaned up and dressed and they took me back to the club. I couldn't wait to tell my husband my story when he came home. Would he really believe though that his shy little wife had truly become a slut? I decided the only way to make him believe it, was to prove it to him by taking him along with me for the next time!

This story is based off a real life situation. Please let me know if you like it. Thank you.



Gone...Camping



Twilight closes in as the two lovers sit staring into the fire, both mesmerized by dancing flames and shadows thrown in growing length all around. Tossing another stubby branch on the fire, he turns in his seat, drawing his companion close; a little stunned that she is actually right here beside him.

Not very long ago, but seeming more like ages, Matt first spoke to Megan on an Internet dating site. One evening he logged into the site to discover a short email from her, which began a continuous barrage of laughter mixed with innuendos. Over the course of the next few months they got to know each other; they quickly realized they had much in common. It soon became apparent to both of them that it might be a good idea to meet, to see if there was indeed the fiery connection they both suspected.

After some last minute arrangements and lots of frustration, here they were side by side staring into a fire together with his arm snuggled around her and her head on his shoulder, owls hooting in the nearby forest while small creatures snuffled around in the underbrush.

Oh, how beautiful this woman is in the fire light! Her every word excites him and starts his blood racing. Matt leans in for a soft kiss on her full, slightly pouty lips; she is everything he'd hoped for and then some, especially where it most counted...life just didn't get any better than this!

He reaches behind his chair and gets a long, slender stick, previously prepared for roasting hot dogs and marshmallows, and then watches Megan as, from a nearby ice chest, she selects a couple of wieners and slides one down the smooth stick. Fascinated by the play of a sly smile lifting one corner of her luscious lips, Matt smiles and takes the other wiener for his roasting stick.

They quietly talk of how great it is to finally be together, his deep voice resonating in her ear and lifting goose bumps along her warm, sensitized flesh. Turning into him, one hand gently resting on his thigh, she looks into his eyes, the campfire flickering across his handsome, sculpted features; she tries to convey deep feelings for him with just a look. Nope, not enough...placing her hand on his cheek, she leans in and sketches his jaw with gentle nibbling little kisses until their lips meet and then fuse together, intense passion overtaking them both.

With a groan she breaks off the kiss, reaches into the cooler once again and comes up with another wiener strategically sticking out of her mouth. Looking at him with a playful smile and one brow arched in invitation, she waits for him to bite the other end. Meeting him at the middle, she pauses; allowing him to chew and swallow his part of the soft cool meat, and then she gently slides the remaining piece past his lips. They lock lips once again; their tongues dancing the lover's tango; her hands somehow finding their own way to touch him anywhere she can reach...his shoulder, his chest, his thigh. 

Wrapping Megan in a big hug, Matt softly bites her neck at the shoulder line, and then brushes his lips down the inside of her arm and inner elbow; she sighs with the pleasure of this sexy man's lips on her skin. While her tongue flicks lightly against his neck, Matt trails his fingertips along her spine; soft touches and slow caresses move his hand down her body. He inhales the intoxicating scent of this woman draped around him, and with a groan he leans back in his chair taking his sexy siren with him; right to the ground as, with a resounding thump, the chair buckles and he finds himself in a heap of aluminum tubing on the ground, Megan half out of her chair beside him, her soft laughter music to his ears.

"Well," he says, laughing, "That chair wasn't particularly comfortable anyway."

Easing out of the mess that used to be a chair, he wraps his strong arms around her and scoops her up in his arms, carrying her a little closer to the fire, carefully sitting on a large conveniently place log. No longer laughing, Megan squarely situated in his lap with her well-formed legs wrapped snugly around his waist, he begins a slow exploration of her neck with his mouth. Very lightly he touches her skin with his tongue. Near the ear, the base of the neck, throat; all are kissed by this man who is close to becoming an animal. 

Megan leans into him willingly, and with arms wrapped around his neck whispers in his ear..."Baby, I can think of no place I would rather be than right here with you."

Licking and nipping at his ear lobe, one hand curved around the back of his neck, she gently lets Matt know just how hungry she is for him by grinding her hips into his, tightening her legs like a vise around him. She can feel his need for her tucked snugly against her and her hips echo her need for more, slowly circling in tiny jerky movements that leave her struggling for breath in his arms. 

His hands grasp her hips and Matt greets her gyrations with his own quickly rising passion.

Returning again to his lips with a moan she cannot hold in, she surrenders to the need for this wondrous man's loving. Tongues seek and challenge, lips nibble, and teeth gently nip...her breathing ragged as she soaks her panties. Resting her head in the crook between his shoulder and neck, she nips the tender skin; Megan inhales his sexy essence deep into her lungs and groans as she shudders within Matt's embrace.

Matt feels the shudder and instinctively knows that Megan has surrendered to his touch. He fills his large hand with a sexy ass cheek and pulls this lovely woman as close as he can. Matt can feel the warmth as her orgasm dampens the crotch of her pants. Luckily he knows that she brought extra clothes because apparently she will need them! 

Tightening her grasp on his hand, and placing the other behind one of his knees, Megan leans back as far as possible, grinding her pussy against his iron hard cock. She is very sensitive now, and the pleasure races through her body, raising goose bumps on her flesh, hardening her nipples, and causing her to suck in her breath as she gasps and groans, and shudders yet one more time, leaving him with a wet spot on the front of his jeans!

Straightening against him once again, she wildly locks lips with him, and her hands discover the warm skin under his shirt. Soft caresses quickly turn into needful massages of the muscles of his torso, shoulders and back. 

With a quick hand, Matt releases the first two buttons of her shirt, trailing hot kisses down into deep cleavage. With one hand firmly gripping her ass to keep her steady on his lap, he uses the other to lightly touch her stomach and side. 

Megan can feel the bulge against her belly like an iron rod. Leaving his lips wanting more, she lightly drags her nose across his cheek to his left ear, and gently teases the lobe before sucking it into her hot mouth. Running her tongue the length of his ear, she lifts his shirt for easier access. Raining hot kisses across his shoulder, and then down to his chest, she lightly swipes one nipple with her thumb, then sucks the other nipple into her hot mouth, her firm tongue tracing its contours, coarse little hairs tickling her lips. Pushing gently against his stomach, Megan lowers her lips slowly down his torso, snaking her tongue into his belly button on the way by...

Kneeling in front of him, she firmly runs her hands up the inside of both thighs, then stops to look into his eyes, seeking permission:

"Please, Love," her eyes ask silently...she wants this incredible man with a desire that is going to rip her to shreds. A quivering of his jaw and a tightening around his eyes lets Megan know that he, too, is near the limit of his willpower. 

With a slightly wild look, he asks her to continue. She reaches up and unbuttons his pants. Free at last, his cock bursts from its containment, smacking her soundly on the cheek. Megan reaches for it and brings its silky strength to her lips, teasing her tongue around the head, and then blowing on it gently. As her breath warms his cock she feels every muscle in his body clench at the intense pleasure that she is creating for him. She works her tongue all around the head and feels one of Matt's hands move to the back of her head. 

As large and powerful as those hands are, they are always gentle. Taking his cock into her mouth, she feels him lean his head way back. A low growling sound is coming from his throat. A sound of pure passion, describing the ultimate joy he feels to be with her in this way...his first blow job ever. 

Sweat starts to bead on his brow. How long can such pleasure last before he can stand it no more?

His hand moves from her soft hair to her blouse. With a couple of awkward tugs he pulls it from her body. Taking a clue from his difficulty, she reaches back and undoes the black lace of her bra. Her large tits swing free and his eyes lock onto those magnificent mounds of soft pink flesh - he simply must reach for one. Fondling it, and feeling the weight of it in his hand, he brushes his thumb over the hardened button of a nipple. Pulling Megan up by tits that completely fill his large hands, Matt growls that he can take no more of her wanton ministrations if she wants him to last. 

Chuckling merrily, she smiles slyly at him and shoves his head into the soft mounds of fragrant flesh in front of him! She threads her fingers through his hair, inhales his masculine scent, and then stands before him trying to undo the button of her pants. Their fingers meet and tangle both eager to remove all barriers between them. 

Allowing her to finish the task, he turns to grab a bottle of water nearby and dribbles some of it down her belly; then watches it run in rivulets past where a triangle of hair is supposed to be, and trickling into the crevice between her legs. 

Placing his hands on her hips and pulling her closer, he sips and licks the water from her belly while slipping a finger deep inside the hot wet folds of her pussy. Prepared for her bucking motion, his tongue rasps across her clit, now within easy reach. Megan's knees buckle and she leans over him as he stokes the fire within her. Moaning his name and no longer on this plane of life, Megan sags to the ground in front of this man who just rocked her world!

Matt knows that anyone could walk by at any minute, but could not care less. The only thing in the world that he does care about is the beautiful woman sagging in front of him. 

Gently guiding her back, he inches his way forward to where she now lies with legs spread wide. Pushing her knees up by her chest, he places two of his large fingers against her pussy lips and slides them deep inside, savoring the feel of those satin walls, caressing his fingers as they sink in. His tongue darts forward against the little bud that is swelling before him. He stops for a moment to blow gently across that bud and is rewarded with an involuntary buck of her hips as his fingers once again slide inside finding a sensitive little nub deep within that causes her to gasp in pleasure. 

The moaning, groaning and whimpering sounds now coming from Megan drive him absolutely wild! With his other hand he traces through the juices on the inside of her thigh, right near the opening, simultaneously tickling the lips and clit. He can see goose bumps rise on her flesh; her woman scent permeates the air around his face, all her self-control is gone.

Beyond ecstasy, Megan is now begging Matt for mercy..."Please Love, I can take no more!"

Rolling over, she tackles him, and removes his jeans completely...ooh, boxers! Cool! But they land somewhere in the bushes...and now Matt is lying in full glory before her, and she can only gaze in wonder at his magnificence! Awestruck by his masculine beauty, she eases up his legs, never once breaking eye contact; gently caressing each and every sexy inch as she travels up towards her loving man's iron hard rod. Megan's intention is to sheath that shaft, but she cannot pass up one more opportunity to pay homage...

Beginning at the base, still holding his eyes with her own, she drags her wet tongue up the length of his shaft again and again, then placing her lips at the top, dips her tongue gently into the small hole now filled with pre-cum. 

"Mmm, Matt, you taste wonderful, Baby!"

Feeling wild, she licks her lips and smiles, then, diving, buries his big hard cock deep in her throat. Hands on his ass, she pulls him in even deeper, and groans her own pleasure at the feel of his silky skin filling her warm mouth. Rising up just enough to take a breath, she tenderly draws him in again, massaging him with her throat muscles until he is arcing up, needing release. Then she slowly caresses the shaft with her firmed lips - up and down, up and down, letting her saliva drip down, then sucking it back in. Up and down, deep, then barely in...grasping his hard cock with one hand, she releases him to blow warm air on his saliva soaked cock, and strokes him gently, pulling him to her lips again and again. Placing the head against her lips, she opens them around his shaft and draws in a huge breath while swallowing the entire rod, right down to his tightened balls, sending goose bumps up his body.

Matt no longer knows which way is up. He is looking down into the eyes of his lover, who is pleasuring him like he has never been pleasured before. When he is near the edge of no return, he reaches down, and easily guides her up the length of his body so he can lock his lips on hers. Tongues lightly caress each other, as he holds her as close as possible. He can stand no more. 

He lays Megan on her side, and snuggles close behind. With her head turned she begs to be kissed some more. Matt strokes his lips teasingly across hers, and then bites her softly on the neck. With one hand in her hair and another on her hip, he places his hard cock against her wet pussy, then slowly eases himself inside her welcoming snatch. Sensations long forgotten overcome his thinking. He moves his mouth back to hers and slowly draws his cock out until just the tip is spreading the lips. Easing in and out slowly, he hooks a hand on her hip and draws her to him with every gentle thrust he makes. He still moves slowly, just easing the tip in and out. Megan's soft moaning is the most beautiful sound that he believes he has ever heard. 

God how good it feels to be with a woman like this again. How much better that it is Megan! He moves his lips to her ear to tell her so with his deep voice, "Megan, I love you, Baby!" She reaches between them and pulls his swollen cock out. 

Getting up and sprinting over to a nearby low hanging branch, she taunts him, "Look me in the eyes when you say that!" 

Smiling at the befuddled look on Matt's face, she crooks a finger at him, beckoning him to her sweet siren's body, and positions herself on the branch facing her sweet Adonis. Reaching up to grasp a branch above her, she draws her legs up, one on each side of her ass, spreading her pussy lips wide for his adoration. With one hand, she draws Matt back to her aching body, begging him not to be too gentle. As he drives into her, she reaches back up to grasp the overhanging branch for balance, as good as handcuffed. Her body is his to do with as he pleases; she completely surrenders control to this gentle giant she knows she can trust like no other. 

As their passion overtakes them again, her legs wrap around him pulling him into her so she can feel his cock firmly stroke the top wall of her warm wet pussy, once again rubbing against that firm little nub deep inside. Orgasms rock her body, wave after wave after wave, her skin flushing and every muscle locking in pure ecstasy once again. Megan's head drops back and she knows she is lost forever in this man who answers her every desire. 

"Matt!" she cries out, "My God, Matt! Baby... I love you!"

Barely able to hang on to the branch above, every muscle in her body tensed, her pussy pulses and throbs, pulling him deeper into her core, hoping he can feel the intensity of her orgasm, the pleasure that he gives her, and hoping that he will join her on this skyward spiral of pure bliss...

Loving the sensation of her pussy convulsing around his cock, Matt draws whimper after whimper from Megan's lips as every slow thrust brings him closer to the release he needs. He licks a finger and runs it lightly across her nipple and watches her thrash against him. He lowers his head and traces the nipple with his tongue, and then blows warm air across it. 

"Your tits are beautiful, Megan!"

Still easing in and out of her sopping pussy, he reaches down and collects some of her tangy juices, and with a finger smears his lips. Licking his lips, he feels the warm fluid cover his tongue. Bringing more to his mouth, he bends down to kiss her, sharing with her the taste of her pussy juice. He can't help but growl in excitement, and moves his hand down to rub her clit as he increases the momentum of his thrusts. 

With a shriek she nearly falls as spasm after spasm racks her body again and again in a continuous orgasm that is nearly painful. With a hand on her ass, Matt pulls her hard into each forceful thrust. That grip on her ass keeps her from falling off her precarious perch. With one last forceful thrust he growls fiercely as he floods her spasming pussy with his cum, explosively loosing his soul inside her, his eyes seeking out hers he falls into their stunning depths. 

Sinking to his knees in front of her, he draws her down beside him. Pulling her onto his lap he wraps his strong arms around her, and they sit for a spell catching their breath and staring numbly into what is left of their dwindling campfire. When Matt feels his legs will hold him again, he stands offering Megan his hand. Taking the proffered hand, she joins him on a short walk to the nearby river where they cool their bodies with a moonlight swim, after which they retire to the tent and fall into each other's embrace where they remain until dawn.