1 comments/ 27829 views/ 1 favorites Free-Falling By: CWatson “What was it like,” Mike said to Laura, “living where the stars were only up as opposed to all around?” They drifted at the outer ring, pressed against the cold filament-heated windows, staring out at the stars. Laura had once lived on a planet. Michael never had. The idea of stars being present only when he looked up was alien to him. The idea of up was alien to him. Laura shrugged. She had known him for two years. Her faint reflection in the duraplast window gave her the image of a pretty girl—light brown hair that trailed behind her in a quiet streamer, breasts perky as all breasts were in weightless space, large dark eyes, like the dark blue of the sky as the last vestiges of sunlight finally died. Slim shoulders, narrow hips, a face still slightly rounded, not yet smooth planes and gentle curves. Nothing special, she thought. “I dunno. It was different. I can’t describe it.” She’d tried to, many times over the past two years; she couldn’t. “You look away from the ground and there are stars. And sometimes, in the daytime, you can’t see them at all, because the sky is purple.” “Purple,” Mike mused. He could never get over that. He was taller than she; weightlessness lent itself to stretching and growing. He kept his honey-colored hair cropped short. He had beautiful gray eyes, always alight with curiosity and excitement. “Why that color? It’s said the sky on old Earth was blue.” Laura shrugged again. “I don’t know. The gaseous composition of the atmosphere, I guess.” “Did it smell differently,” he asked. If she answered, he wouldn’t be able to understand. The air of Alidar IV, where she had lived for fourteen, years had had a damp smell, perfumed with the faint sweetness of plant life. The air on the Sentinel station, where she lived now, was cold and biting, sterile and lifeless. It was a scientific station, gathering the raw materials needed to run the manufacturing plants on Selora IX. The only place with plant life was the hydroponics bay, a cold unglamorous place where the plants looked lifeless. “Yes,” she said shortly. She liked talking about her home planet, and he liked listening, but he never understood. He couldn’t understand. He had lived on a space station all his life. Gravity was just a scientific principle to him. She stared out at the shining stars, cold and lifeless. Pinpricks of blazing light in the darkness, trying to burn her away. The stars that were her home, now. “Laura…” Mike said, and his voice was pained. She smiled to herself. Mike was such a nice guy. She knew he hated hurting her. It was nice sometimes to have someone worried about her. Not that she wanted him to go into conniptions every time she did something dangerous, but… “I’m sorry,” she said, and at least he understood. She got upset at the strangest things. She knew she did. Her mother said she was odd, she ought to get prescribed for neuropharms to neutralize her behavior. No one liked Laura very much; she was volatile and temperamental, too much so. No one liked Laura… Except Mike, who understood actually a lot, unless you started talking to him about planets. “I guess I ought to steer clear of planets, then,” he said, brushing her shoulder with his hand. He wasn’t supposed to do that; cohabitation between members of the opposite sex was regulated on Sentinel station. It was hard to find time alone. She liked being alone with him. The station was cold and impersonal; a tritanium and duraplast protecting them against the endless loneliness of space. Corridors of impersonal plastic; scientists, like her parents, rushing from lab to control center and back again. The only life on the entire station was Mike. “No,” she said, “if you’ve still got questions, I’ll answer them.” She felt his surprise against her back. “Oh. Well… I don’t know.” She smiled. He didn’t know a lot, sometimes. “Uhm…” said Mike. “What’s the biggest difference between gravity and weightlessness?” She had to think for a minute. This was not a question he had asked her before. He always made her think; bless him. “The nature,” she said after a while. She smiled sadly. “There’s no plant life here, no animals, no wind, no clouds. No rain.” She shook her head. “It’s so sterile.” Her gaze went back to the stars. She became aware, gradually, of Mike pressed up against her. The Sentinel station spun very slowly, but it was enough to create an outward pseudo-gravity; which was why ‘down’ on the station was considered to be in the direction of the outer ring. At the outer ring itself the outward force was strongest, and if a person wasn’t careful they’d find themselves slowly mashing into the wall—or whoever was between the wall and them. Which had happened to Mike when he moved to float behind her. She liked the feeling of him against her back, his breath on her neck. He had always been a great deal more than a friend to her—she didn’t have normal friends, she either had total strangers or people who were very, very close to her—and she liked being near him, but she wasn’t sure if this was as near as she wanted to be. The first sex she had ever had had been with a complete jerkoff named Trent Adams who had paid absolutely no attention to her. He’d tweaked her breasts a couple of times and then just shoved his cock into her and pumped. When she’d felt his cum inside her she’d been repulsed; how could this asshole treat her like this? Fuck her and leave his seed in her and then leave without even a kiss. Later she had learned to masturbate and had her first orgasm. “Actually,” she said suddenly, impulsively, “maybe orgasm instead.” She felt him jump behind her; it was possible to jump when you were weightless. She realized suddenly that his body was pressed into hers, firm and warm, and it was very erotic. She enjoyed teasing people with her sexuality sometimes, but she’d never actually considered fucking someone. Not on the station, at least. But suddenly, the proposition of fucking Mike seemed pretty nice. “I don’t know,” she continued. “I’ve never had one up here. Not yet. But I imagine fucking is different in space.” She knew it had to be. She could feel his hard-on against her ass, pushing, solid. She wondered what his face must look like, made herself look out into space instead. “What do you think?” He spoke in a strangled voice. He was sweet; she wondered if she deserved him. “I don’t know, Laura. I’ve never been on a planet before.” She smiled. “I know that, silly.” She fidgeted a bit beneath his body and Mike jerked backwards, giving her time to slip out. She pushed herself down the corridor, towards the center of the station. “Where are you going,” he said. She fabricated an excuse. “I’ve not yet eaten,” she said. “I want to get something to eat.” She wondered if he’d pick up the double entendre but didn’t really care if he didn’t. She was preoccupied. Mike watched her slim form drift down the corridor and tried to deflate his erection. Over two years he’d never known Laura to be so directly sexual, to talk like that. It turned him on. She turned him on. He was a physical creature; he enjoyed being close to people, touching them, even casually. Laura never seemed to mind, despite the strict regulations that, it seemed, were designed entirely to thwart him. He remembered her fine, brown hair brushing his cheek, her firm ass against his cock. He wondered how large her breasts were; bra was unnecessary in space, or he could’ve just asked the computer. Computer terminals knew everything. He already knew her exact height, weight, clothing size, but terminals had to be fed information before they could regurgitate it out again. In a stupor he pushed himself off the wall, heading back to his own room. He needed to be alone, because Laura had him hopelessly turned on and he would have to jack off to get rid of his hard-on. The corridors were thankfully deserted; his penis stuck out and made a tent of his pants. Anyone would know. In his room he strapped himself into his bed, which was on the ‘down’ wall, lubed himself up and went at his cock quickly. A funny thing: there was very little pleasure in his masturbation. He hoped it wouldn’t be the case when he actually had sex. As he stroked his cock, dull red and swollen, he imagined Laura, smiling her bewitching smile; laughing, which she rarely did; undressing herself in front of her, slowly, which she would probably never ever do. He imagined fucking her, banging her, bringing her to orgasm, and his cum burst free of his cock and floated free, drifting slowly towards the opposite wall. He was breathing hard, panting, almost. Laura’s moans echoed in his imagination. The door opened with a mechanical whoosh. Laura stepped in. Her gaze went first to the whitish sticky gobs that sailed serenely out the door into the main living quarters beyond, and then to his cock in his hand. It took her a scant second to understand what had happened. Mike made an ineffectual effort to hide his genitals in his pants, which had pooled around his ankles. He felt his face burning, but Laura just drifted into the room. “Who were you thinking of,” she said, “when you did that.” Mike blushed even more. “You,” he said. “Really,” she replied. Mike nodded. He moved to unstrap himself from the bed, but Laura said: “No, let me do that.” She opened the fastener for him but left the others closed. He wondered what she was going to do next. The answer came when she took his pants and stripped them off. She got his socks as well—shoes were unnecessary on a space station—and then his underwear. She tossed the pile away. “Laura! What are you—“ She covered his mouth with her hand. “Hush, lover, and let me work.” She took her hand away and worked on finding a way to get his shirt off without releasing him from the bed. “Laura,” he said quietly, knowing that she wasn’t going to be dissuaded and he’d better figure out what she wanted, and sure stripping off his clothes wasn’t it, “what were you coming in here for?” She stopped her work on his shirt and looked up at him. Her beautiful dark blue eyes were serious. “I tried it,” she said, “playing with myself. I didn’t actually come, but I knew that sex was going to be a lot different in space. And so I stopped, because if I’m going to go any farther I want you to be the one who takes me there. You are going to make me come, Michael, and then I will decide for you whether it’s the lack of plants or orgasm that’s the most different about being in space.” Mike felt panicked. Him? Give her an orgasm? “Laura, I… I’ve never done this before, you know. I don’t know the first thing about making you come.” “You’re still a virgin,” she asked him. He nodded. “Well, you’ll figure it out. And if not, I’ve got other things that will help. You’re the first person I’ve ever fucked that I’ve loved, at least, and that ought to make up the difference. Now help me with this shirt.” “No!” he cried. He was in over his head, he was sure of it. He wanted time to think. This was going way too fast. Love? Her? Love him? “Fine,” Laura said, and went to his desk. She came back bearing a laser knife. Mike squawked. “Are you trying to kill me?” he cried. “I’m going to have you naked,” she said. “If you won’t help me we’ll do this the hard way.” Mike considered arguing and then reconsidered. He settled for, “Be careful.” She activated the knife; a green-blue line grew out of the handle, six inches long. With the care of a surgeon she cut the sleeves off of his sweater and pulled them off. Then she went to his chest. Mike saw she was going to cut it and then pull it off him. Her eyes flicked to his. He understood suddenly how afraid she was. Did she really love him? This is the oddest way I’ve ever seen to show it. “Do it,” he said. With his free hand he held her shoulder. Slowly she lowered the green tip of the knife until it was through his shirt. He felt a pinprick of burning warmth against his collarbone, a pinprick that slowly started moving down his chest until, after excruciating moments as he watched her face, it grazed his matted pubic hair. She turned the knife off and tossed it away, and then yanked his sweater off and let it drift. He stared at her and she stared back. Her face was pale but her eyes were alight with hidden excitement. He was exhilarated; the cutting had fired him more than he had imagined possible. Her hesitant care, the worry in her eyes… His hard-on was raging. He said, breathing heavily, “You want to fuck me?” She said: “Yes. More than anything.” “Is…” He frowned. What was he doing? Why was he even thinking what he was thinking? He was about to get laid! “Is this wise? What if… I mean… Laura, we’re… Babies aren’t allowed on the station!” She looked him straight in the eye, and then rolled back a sleeve to show a pharmaceutical patch taped to her left arm. It was a contraceptive. “Mike,” she said, “I’ve been thinking. A lot. We drift at our window and we talk. It’s cold there. But when we’re not together, I’m much colder by far. Only being around you makes me happy, makes me feel complete. Whenever I disturb you, make you feel sad or angry or…” She sighed. “I want to kill myself for doing that. If that’s not love, I don’t know what is.” Mike stared at her, trying to figure out if he felt the same thing. He remembered all the times he’d hurt her, by probing too deeply into the places of her soul that hurt her—anything having to do with her life on a planet, which was basically everything—and how he’d wanted to fall on his knees and make it right. She had told him about Trent Adams and he’d wanted to kill the man. “It’s love,” he said. “Then you’ll fuck me,” she said. He said: “Yes. And I’ll make you come, if I can. I love you, Laura.” “Then you can do it,” she said, smiling. She twiddled with his pubic hair, idly, and then let her hand drift upwards to his erect cock and its head twitching to his heartbeat. She caressed the head idly, letting her fingers wander across its smooth surface, and then went lower, feeling and caressing his shaft and balls. She seemed rapt. “I’ve never really seen one of these before,” she said. “Stupid Trent wouldn’t let me see his. I don’t think it was very big, anyway, which is probably why…” She trailed off. The leftover lubrication from his masturbation made its surface slick and smooth. As he recalled, the lube was tasteless, which was good because she took his penis into her mouth, carefully, tasting, exploring. Mike moaned. Laura smiled and began to use her tongue to explore around his cock. She rubbed around the bottom and the faint seams of joined skin—all men were circumcised at birth—and then brought it around so that the underside of her tongue met the head of his cock. He groaned in ecstasy. Only in his dreams had she ever done this to him, never in reality; never had he thought it would be this good. He wasn’t having any stimulation problems now. “Wait, Laura—“ he said. He was coming to the edge far too quickly; he’d never manage to give her an orgasm if he himself came too soon. He let himself out of the bed and said, “I want a turn at you.” She smiled as he came to her. They kissed, the first time. She was beautiful in his arms; she smiled. Mike turned her around and slowly unzipped her jumpsuit. She felt the zipper slide down her back, leaving bitty sparks of electricity as it brushed her skin. She felt her breasts come free, the cold air on her shoulder blades. He eased the sleeves off of her arms and then pulled the entire garment down. She felt his hands brush her hips, her thighs, her calves. And then she was free, naked except for a no-nonsense pair of white panties. He took her hips and spun her around, slowly. She felt the tingles of his gaze roaming her body hungrily. She felt turned on, hungry in anticipation of his lips, his hands, his cock, and he had barely touched her. She noticed him staring at her panties, which were bulging slightly and were definitely wet. She smiled and blushed self-consciously. “I told you I was playing with myself before.” He seemed startled. “Oh, yes, that’s right. You did.” “Well, here’s proof.” She took off her panties. She had begun trimming her pubic hair ever since she started masturbating; it was darker than her hair, having never been much exposed to sunlight. She passed the panties to Mike. He accepted them, felt their texture. He brought the crotch of her panties to his nose, without taking his eyes off of her, and breathed in deeply. She felt her face coloring. “I dream about that smell,” he said softly. She shivered. The air was cold, but the fire between them warmed her. She thought she must be delirious. What was she doing, floating here naked in front of him? Well, he was naked too, but still… She tried to make her voice light. “Did you?” He nodded. “A hundred times. Oh, Laura, how I have wanted you…” His eyes were a strange mixture: tenderness, worry, happiness, an incongruous animal lust. “You’ve got me,” was all she could say in return. He smiled and they moved back into each others’ embrace. They kissed, trading breaths and souls, feeling each other, testing each other. But Mike soon began to move down her body, trailing kisses down her white flesh until he touched the top of her pyramid of pubic hair. She wondered why he had skipped her breasts; but then she didn’t derive much pleasure from twiddling with them anyway. Here was a difference, she reflected: she would have to lie down somewhere for him to go down on her. Here, they just floated in the middle of the room. The sense of weightlessness was strangely vertigo-inducing, but at the same time ever so enticing… Reflexively she began to rub and squeeze her nipples. Mike stopped. She felt his breath, warm and gentle, against her vulva. “Um…” he said, obviously embarrassed, “what do I do now?” She smiled and stroked the back of his head with one hand. With the other she held open her fleshy outer lips, revealing the secrets within. She had examined herself in a mirror once, and knew exactly what he was seeing—a cleft along the underside of her body, pink and wet, steamy and aromatic. She brushed her clitoris gently with a finger and felt herself shudder. “Here,” she said. “That’s where it feels best. The rest of it is good, too, but that’s the best.” Carefully he poked it. “Owch,” said Laura. “Be careful, it’s sensitive. Mine is, at least; I don’t know about other peoples’. You have to be careful. Brush it lightly, or maybe breathe on it, but don’t touch it too hard. And don’t forget the rest of me.” She giggled nervously. “I’ve got other things down there than my clit.” He looked up at her and then hugged her, his face against her firm stomach. “I love you, Laura,” he whispered. “You’re always so… Beautiful.” She was nervous. He was too. They were fine. He breathed on her vulva again, and she moaned. She had never imagined something as simple as his breath could do such a thing to her. She knew she was getting wetter, her lips becoming darker, engorged. Thinking about how her pussy must look to him made her even more aroused. And through it all he just breathed, inhaling and exhaling the deep sweet scent of her pussy. Surprise: he used his tongue straight off. One of his hands went to her right buttock and the small of her back; the other kept her open. She spread her legs to accommodate him. He stroked her inner lips, thin and petal-soft, with his marvelous tongue, and felt around, searching the inner crevices and sensitive places she had never before known were there. He paid some attention to her outer lips, for which she was thankful; the sensations were overwhelming, especially without a sense of grounding, and the cessation allowed her time to collect herself. But not enough. Soon he was back at her pussy, this time stroking the area around her clitoris. He swirled around it, ravished her back and forth, left and right, up and down. He tortured her, dancing around her clit, ever closer, but never actually touching it. Somehow he knew just when to dance back from her clit. She moaned and gasped as he pleasured her. “Mike… Mike… How…” Free-Falling He decided, crazy man, to touch her clit right at that point. Her voice broke and she cried out in pleasure and relief. His tongue was delicate: water torture, the itch of a fly just barely brushing the skin. She loved it. He kept up his assault, gentle torture that left her writhing. “Mike…” she gasped. “Mike…” Her fingers on her nipples flashed and twisted. It wasn’t much, but anything to push her closer to orgasm. “Put… Put your fingers in my pussy… Mike…” He did. She felt first one finger, then two, poke gently into her wet sheath. Impulsively they started moving, penetrating in and out. Laura arched over and cried in a broken voice, and her pussy contracted, throbbing around his fingers. She could feel his fingernails, almost every ridge on his fingerprints. She could feel the biting cold of the air. His breath tickled her pubic hair. Joy and pleasure consumed her. Laura gasped in breath, staring at the topside wall, feeling her body come down from its delirious high. “Yes,” she breathed faintly, “yes. Mike, I love you.” “Just because I did that,” he said from near her crotch. “Yes,” she gasped. He felt his breath leave her pussy; then he was holding her in his arms, tender and smiling. Her nipples pressed against his chest. She kissed him and tasted her own sweet juices on his face. “Why did you skip my breasts,” she asked him. He shrugged. “I read somewhere that they don’t do much for the girl, and I figured that if I wanted to discharge my responsibility I’d better go straight to where the real action was.” She smiled and leaned closer to him. “Well, you’ve done a good job.” She felt languid and rested, ready for more. His cock, slightly curved and warm, pressed against her belly. “Why is it curved,” she asked him. He shrugged, and he felt her blush. “I don’t know. I guess too many hard-ons when I was wearing underwear.” She looked down between her breasts at it, poking at her stomach. She shrugged. “Well, nothing wrong with it.” She heard his relieved laugh. “My breasts are too small,” she said suddenly, “that’s why you didn’t touch them.” She looked down at his cock again. He looked startled. “Laura… No! How could…” He said: “Laura, I’ve never seen a pair of breasts in real life before. The only other ones I’ve ever seen are those super-fake things in holoporn. There’s absolutely no way I couldn’t like them. And they’re not too small. They’re fine.” She didn’t say anything. “Laura,” Mike protested, “you have to believe me. I mean… Well, I don’t know. How else am I supposed to convince you?” He didn’t have the words to explain that it didn’t matter to him what sort of breasts they were; the fact was, they belonged to her, and that made him love them. But he didn’t have the words to explain that. “Fuck me,” she said. She looked back up at him, eyes wide with naked need. “That’s how.” She wasn’t sure what she was saying or why she was saying it, not really—what sort of a stupid proof was that?—but she didn’t really care. She had to get Mike to fuck her. Then it would all be right. “Fuck me, Mike. Make me come with your hard cock inside of me.” Mike stared at her as though she had sprouted broccoli out of her ears. Seeing that he wasn’t going to be doing her any favors, she took his cock in her hand and guided it to the entrance of her wet, steaming cunt. Once he felt that his body took over. He flexed himself forward, jamming his cock as deep as it would go into her aching pussy. Together at last. They moaned at the fire that raced through them, the inner heat of their joining. Mike tried to pull out, to thrust again, but he discovered he didn’t have any leverage. “Uhm,” he mumbled into her hair, “how’re we going to do this?” Laura thought she’d be happy just floating there with his fullness buried deep inside her, but they’d never get an orgasm this way. “I guess we have to push.” She seized his hips and pushed him backwards. Out went his penis, almost too far; she felt the head brush her outer lips. She pulled him back in, deep inside her. Mike saw. “Here,” he said, taking a hold of her hips, “I’ll do it.” He kissed her on the forehead, tenderly. She let him take over and wrapped her arms around him, holding him close as he guided her up and down his shaft. She put her legs around his waist, clinging. They shivered and jolted with the shocks of pleasure that ran through them. She felt his hardness moving back and forth within her, and his breath in her hair, and the firm gentleness of his hands on her ass, and clung closer so that her nipples rubbed against his chest with every move. “Laura… Laura…” he panted. “So good. So good. I’d dream about how it would feel… Nothing like this… Never this good…” “I… Feel the same way…” She gasped as something touched off inside her. “…If it makes a difference.” He stopped his movements for a little, and she clung to him, panting. His body, warm and strong, like a lifeline. “Laura… I’m… I can’t last much longer,” he said. She wasn’t anywhere near an orgasm yet. “Can you hold off?” she asked. “I don’t… Think so. Play with yourself, Laura. Get yourself off… I don’t think I can do it.” “Suck my breasts,” she said, leaning back with her hands on his shoulders so that he could have unrestricted access to them. “It feels the best underneath… But don’t forget the nipples.” She took one hand from his shoulder to manipulate her clit. “And go slowly,” she said. She needed time. He started moving her up and down across his shaft again, and she moaned with the sensations, arched as pleasure blazed across her body. She wished she could help him, make herself move faster; but there was no leverage in space. It was all up to him. She let her hands dance across her pubic region, feeling the slick shaft of his cock and the padded flesh of her outer lips, and then the small nub of her clit. She teased it and tasted it, brushing glowing patterns of fire across its surface that translated themselves onto her body. He nuzzled her breasts, sucked on the nipples, tongued across them. The world was gone; the station around them was gone. All she saw was the joyous spectre of her impending orgasm; all she felt was his penis moving within her, stroking her from the inside. He was only moving her a few inches up and down, but she could feel it all—the engorged head of his cock, the stiff warmth of the shaft, even a few wisps of his pubic hair brushing against her clit. “Are you close,” she asked. “Very,” he whispered. “You?” “A little more…” she said. “Oh, God, fuck me.” He moved her obligingly; she felt his penis impaling her from the inside and knew she was made for this, to do this with him. Mike, whom she loved. She smiled at him, her eyes closed, visions of her own body trembling in orgasmic bliss around his cock dancing behind her head. Really, it was imagining herself coming that made her come. They felt the shudder, as one; he stopped with his penis all the way inside her. She clutched him to her, her breasts plastered against his chest; they stared at each other, waiting, wanting. Time elongated, stretched, shuddered, as she teetered on the edge of ecstasy, feeling every little bit of her body trembling; and then she was over, her body exploding in ways she never imagined it could. Waves and ripples came from her pussy as he stroked a few more times, and then shoved his pulsing cock into her trembling pussy, jerking, spasming, throwing his seed deep within her. How long she clung to him, eyes closed, gasping, fulfilled, feeling his warm semen clinging stickily to the inside of her body, she didn’t know. She had the vague impression of nodding off for a little, while he crooned to her and stroked her hair and her sweat-slicked back. But eventually she opened her eyes and found him looking straight at him. “Laura…” Mike said. His eyes were full with emotion, glimmering and glowing and spilling over. He was incredible. She wanted to fuck him all over again. She transferred a finger across his lips. “It was better,” she said. “What was,” he asked. “Orgasm. In space.” She smiled luminously. “Of course, that may have been just you. I’ve never been with someone who actually cared for me.” He smiled. “That was what you were going to say, right?” she asked. “Well,” said Mike, “no.” “Then what?” “Actually…” He blushed and looked away, which got him a nice view of her lush, pert breast and large areola. “Well, I guess I just wanted to say thanks, Laura.” “What for,” she said, miffed. He shrugged—not an easy feat, holding her. “For letting me fuck you, I guess. I mean… Well, I don’t know. Even if we love each other, it doesn’t mean we have to fuck. So… Thanks.” She smiled, near tears. No one ever thought of her like that. She knew Mike was the right one. “You’re welcome,” she said. “And thanks for fucking me.” He smiled too, and for a moment they just floated there, together in love. “So,” said Mike, “now what?” “I dunno,” she said, “want to do it again?” He looked alarmed, for some reason. “Well, give me a little to recuperate first.” She smiled and hunched over to rest her head on his chest. “Always.” Free-Falling "Just take it- what's the big deal?" "I just can't, Jason... it's.. I don't know... " she put a hand to her forehead. This just wasn't the time. "Look- we have to know one way or the other. I'm not going to *watch* you take it, if that's what you're worried about," he pressed. "I just.." "Yeah. Whatever," Jason's voice had a biting, petulant edge to it that cut Ren to the core. The only thing worse was the slamming door as Jason left, then the other slamming door of his own apartment. A week ago, in a heated, intimate moment, they'd had what Ren had thought was a one-night stand. Jason had been the moody, reclusive neighbor, and she'd steered as clear of him as she could manage, because, frankly, she was scared shitless of him. David had been half his size, and any time he whistled or demanded "come here, pet", she'd had to tremblingly obey, kneel silently, not fight in her restraints as David had done whatever the hell he wanted to her body. Clear, free, away from Jason she'd tried to stay, but the quiet, haunted man piqued not only her curiosity, but the more he unwillingly spoke to her, she had coaxed from him a haunting, horrible past similar in part to hers. No, he hadn't been molested and left home as soon as able to... but he'd lost loved ones to fire, he was mis-understood, and sometimes, he tried to drown his problems with the same whiskey she enjoyed, when he wasn't throwing himself into buring buildings as a volunteer firefighter. They'd stayed "apart" until the night the fire consumed her bookstore. He'd dashed in and nearly killed himself looking for her, trying to ensure her safety, only to find that she'd thankfully been around the corner at the coffee shop when the blaze started. ... With another man. With her ex. Why had that bothered Jason so? He didn't have any claims on her. She was nothing more than a neighbor, wasn't she? But then... there was a lot about that meeting he didn't know. It wasn't just a friendly rendezvous, and Ren was as glad for it to be done as Jason would have been. There were also those strangled whispers during their previous coupling, those words.. those three words. Had they just gotten caught up in the moment? She was until that quiet moment on the couch, when he'd dozed off, and been awoken by nighmares of screams and flames... and Ren had knelt gently with him, just touching him, offering him a gesture of comfort that coaxed him from his world of horror to waking. They'd slept together at first- quite literally. They'd lain down together on his bed, slept soundly and safely, away from dreams until the morning. The more they'd talked, the more they realized that maybe they weren't quite so bad as they'd first thought. Ren wasn't so much a quirky, bizarre little pest, and Jason wasn't the muscle-bound roaring lion of a bully she'd first envisioned in cowering fear. One thing led to another, and soon... it had happened. The thing had happened, which led Ren here.... and then... there. The box hadn't done backflips, started tapdancing, or anything else in the two straight hours she'd observed it, either by sitting and staring fixedly at it until her vision blurred, pacing anxiously around it, or absently turning it over in her hands. Ren was as scared to open the damn thing as she was to take it. Finally, with weak, watery knees, she went to the bathroom with a digital watch, took a breath and glanced around, as though she might never come back out again, and closed the door. Modern technology had made it a fairly mess-free affair, but then the fifteen agonizing minutes kept her sitting primly on the closed toilet seat, glancing anxiously at the watch, at the stick, at the watch, at the stick... until when the watch beeped, she lept off the seat and flung the watch into the sink. She didn't seize the stick immediately. It was still in it's little sleeve, as though it had a mouth that were pursed tightly against a secret and only intense goading would get a peep out. With trembling, numb fingers, she held the stick and sat down again. Ren's throat was dry as she slid it out and turned it over. One "not" line... very clear, very blue, as though it were a thumbs up... but then, like a demon on her other shoulder... opposite it was the faintest, slightest line. Two. No, one. Two. Was it one or two? "Fuck!" she whispered, more a squeak. "What does it mean," she murmured at the stick. Was this common? There was no pigmentation in the second line, but it was THERE. She could see just the ghost of it. Perplexed, frustrated tears welled up but didn't spill over. It was the limbo sort of "hold it in, then they can either be joyous OR tragic" . She had no idea what to do. Ren had never felt so alone. When she'd tried to tell people close to her what her father was trying to do to her while they were alone in the barn or house, they had turned away, isolating her. When she'd tried to tell people about David... about the clothing she wore for him, the things she did to him- to herself- to give him pleasure, they had backed uneasily away, or scratched it down on their office pad and gave her more pills. How alone she always felt after an altercation with Jason. As though she'd never feel him again. This was another of those alones. Perhaps, in at least one odd sense if irony, Ren *wasn't*, alone, however. Just a wall away, Jason brooded silently on his couch, a lukewarm beer in hand. It was some nerve she had, all but shooing him out to take the damn test... and then blowing him off, not so much as a call or a text one way or the other? What was it with women- no, what was it with Ren? Jason had given her ample time, too. He'd worked out, jogged, gotten some work done down at the office, and done just about everything he could think of to soak up the time Ren wanted for herself. What if she'd split, what if it was positive, what if, what if... so many different scenarios played out in Jason's mind as he butted his forehead frustratedly against his palms. Finally, his stomach tight, his nerves frayed.. Jason stood, pocketed his keys, and left his apartment. As he closed his door, he stood before hers and took an anxious breath. He'd crushed grown men with his strength, lept into burning buildings to save kittens... but a drop of his lover's urine on a platic stick scared him more than any of that rolled together. Ren hadn't heard the door-knock. she was still too busy staring- no, squinting- at the line-or-not next to the NotLine. "Dammit... " she murmured, and bit her lip. Jason clenched his teeth as he slowly pushed on the door. When he'd knocked, it had come open slightly. It hadn't been closed all the way, and certainly hadn't been locked. He tensed, as if expecting the worst, and slowly stepped in. "Ren?" he called, though not loudly. He didn't want to startle her, and if she was asleep, he didn't want to wake her. There was no answer though, and the bathroom light was on and the door was ajar. He closed her apartment door behind him and locked it before walking toward the bathroom. He tapped on the door lightly. "Ren?" he called again, concern lacing his voice as he slowly pushed it open. "In here," she said, still frowning. She looked up as he opened the door, and turned the stick around. "I'd have called you if I'd known what it was... it's... I think it's negative, but then there's that damn thing there..." she said, looking back at the stick. "Don't worry, it's clean, I made sure," she added hastily, but not thrusting it at him either. He still seemed put out about something, and that worried her more. Jason cooly observed her for a moment, his forearms crossed over his brawny chest in silent assessment of the small woman perched on her toilet seat like a caged, apprehensive squirrel- somehow cute, but dangerous with claws and teeth. Finally, his jaw worked anxiously, and he held his breath as he reached over, gently taking the test from her. After an examination of it, he blinked and passed a hand over his eyes, surveyed it again, and reached for it's empty box. "How the hell can you even.. Oh, that's Spanish," he grumbled, flipping the box over, and still not getting the answer he thought he wanted. ".. It's early," he shrugged, his eyebrows knitting together in a sort of question, as though seeking approval. "Yeah, it's still kinda early, maybe that's why?" He put the stick down, then. "I.. I just don't know," he shook his head, not feeling any better now than when he'd been brooding on his couch earlier. Instant gratification- that's what he'd wanted... or not gratification so much as closure, one way or another. And NOW, dammit. "No- it's been that way for like... two hours?" she said, not looking up at him. "Wonder if the other one would do it, too..." she pensed, and stood, bringing the other back. "This one doesn't do lines, it's an actual "yes" or "No", and as much as it cost, it should sing it in five different languages," she frowned. "Nah, hon, I meant- like along.. maybe it's too early in the... you know," he glanced at her flat stomach, and shifted uneasily. "I mean, it's only been a week since we.. ah.. " God, this was almost painful, talking about this. Jason groaned inwardly... why couldn't he be smooth and confident? He sat down in her vacated spot and put his elbows on his knees, looking at the stick again. "I just dunno... " She took the stick and put it back inside the empty carton, dropping it in the trash. "Well, either way, it was a bust," she growled irritably and leaned against the sink. "God, can you imagine if we *did* have a kid?" she moaned, clapping a hand to her forehead. "He'd be a total moron. I'd be putting little socks on his hands and making sure his helmet was on right, like on SouthP.." she stopped... which was worse, that she admitted to watching South Park, or that she'd just made a serious slur on differently-abled children? Her stomach pulled away from her abdominal walls as if cringing painfully. Jason was silent for a moment, just looking up at her, round-eyed. Suddenly, a burst of laughter escaped him as he uncontrollably giggled at her morose whinage. "Yeah- can you imagine? We'd be pretty sad... can't even read a pregnancy test," his mirth finally ran it's course though, as he glanced at her askance. "Wait... South Park?" Wasn't she... a poised, intelligent author? What was she doing secretly vegging on the couch laughing at Terrance and Philip? Horrified, Ren clapped a hand over her mouth and winced. "I ... oh, *why* are we sitting in the bathroom?" she recovered, and edged into the hallway. "I'll... yeah, I'll take that other one later... but... don't talk shit about southpark... it's very understatedly witty with entendre," she declared airily, as though defending Taittinger over Dom Perignon. Jason just smirked, shaking his head, and stood obediently. He followed her out, flicking the light off as he went. "Whatever," he drawled, "Your secret's safe with me.. Wendy," he snickered one last time. "So.. entendre? Is that one of your author words, or are you trying to pass the SAT again?" Even though his nerves were shot worrying about whether or not he was to be a father, he couldn't help but be amazed, even fascinated by Ren's innocent, sometimes vexing ability to mystify him. One moment, she was an apologetic bundle of nerves, the next a roaring lioness, the next, a goofball. It was... Jason sighed... wonderful, he realized. "Entendre? Oh, you work at a high school and haven't come across that yet?" Ren taunted gently. "Just wait until SAT time... but no, 'entendre' means..." she cocked her head aside, thinking... "If I were to say," she bent over and stuck her head in the fridge- did she want a Mello Yello... or that bag of chilled peanut-butter M&Ms?.. "I want to park your harley in my garage...and you don't have a harley, and I don't have a garage... you know.." she rummaged around over the newly-stocked shelves, trying to find something to munch on. "Oooh, Ok... the double meaning thing that I missed on a spelling test once," he nodded knowingly. "Yeah, I need a T-shirt... 'those who can't spell? Coach" he "hand-framed" the air in front of him as he walked into her kitchen, then her living-room. When she leaned into the fridge though, her intelligence took a back seat to her back seat. He couldn't help but notice that her black jazz pants didn't show a panty-line, yet he'd seen her pull on underwear earlier... God, she was pretty... no- she was beautiful. Her mind, her body... she was just beautiful. He'd do all he could to remind her of that, if she'd just let him. "And that's why I write and don't think," she grinned as she snatched up a small pack of lunch-meat instead of her candy. "Want a sandwich?" she asked, producing the honey-roasted, compressed, preservatived stuff. She wished they could have ONE normal day. Just one. "Huh?" he questioned obliquely, still lost in thought. "Oh- " he shook his head, snapping out of it, then. "Yeah, sure, if you're having one, too. He re-joined her in the kitchen and started hunting around for plates and bread. "Glass-front box, next to the microwave," she directed idly, seeing him searching. She was wrestling with the "tear here" portion of a lunch-meat pack, which had torn off there.. yet was still sealed. "So... are you... mad at me?" he ventured after a moment, finding the bread, then the paper plates and napkins. "Dickweed," she snarled, causing Jason's eyebrows to shoot up. "Ah- beg your pardon?" He hadn't been expecting *that* rebuttal, regardless of whether or not she was angry with him. "Isn't that like you- I need you most right NOW, and there you go.. AH, there.." she grinned, and looked at him, her smile fading. "What-" she looked at his face, then the lunch meat, and then her moth made an.. "OH... " as her mind registered his question. "Oh.. " she turned, oblivious to the fact that she'd just sliced her ring-finger open on the same knife that she'd have slashed her wrist open with earlier... and of course, the same knife that had vanquished the lunch meat plastic. "Of course not... I'm just.. dumb..." she shook her head, and then frowned at the freshet of scarlet dripping onto her floor. "What the..." , her eyes widened at the growing pool of blood trickling down her wrist. "What do you m- SHIT!" He dropped the paper plate he was trying to separate from the one piggybacking it, and sprinted over, the conversation forgotten. "Damn, Baby.. Doesn't that *hurt*?" he blinked at her seeming indifference to it as he frantically bound it with paper towels. "It's just a cut," she blinked at him. "I'm sure it did, but I just wasn't thinking about it at the time,' she shrugged, reluctant to relinquish her meat. At first, she was a little defensive, but Jason was gentle, and soon, she softened. "How can you be so strong... and not ... " her words failed her as she turned red and glanced ashamedly away. Jason risked a glance at her face as he dampened a towel with one hand and began cleaning her up. "And not what," he murmured, starting a pile of paper towels on the counter as he first stopped the blood, then cleaned the rest of it up, then put a towel around it until he could find a bandage. "Where's your bandaids?" he asked abruptly, though his hand softened around hers, holding it more gently now that his fear for her safety had gone. "Yeah," she said, pushing back her hair and glancing bewilderedly around. It was getting stiflingly hot in the kitchen, and she wanted to go jab at the thermostat. "It's- they're on my dresser," she jabbed her thumb toward her room. She felt stupid for saying what she had... but it was already out. "Ok," he nodded, remembering her directions to her first-aid stuff. "Hold this here, and don't look at it or let up, ok?" He smirked faintly, "I'm a trained professional," he added wtih a hasty wink before disappearing down the hall. A faint trickle of sweat stuck his T-shirt to the center of his back- how had her kitchen gotten so hot all of a sudden? "Ok, cotton balls, the big box on the..." he began opening drawers of her jewelry box then- and immediately realized that this was the WRONG box when his fingers closed around something smooth and cool. He withdrew it curiously, glancing over his shoulder, then back to it. Jason gasped softly. A thin, black, leather necklace- no, it wasn't a necklace.. it was... his stomach turned- a collar... dangled off his finger. A small, cheap silver padlock had seemingly been prised open, and upon closer inspection, he realized that the collar had been tugged on, stretched almost to breaking in some places, ruddy, dark stains mingled with white rings that could have been sweat rings laced the inside... and there were small metal studs that would have covered the throat. He just stared, open-mouthed, and wondered. Why? Why would anyone subject themselves to this? It was... sick! Then, however, the slowly-dawning realization lit upon Jason. It hadn't been willingly at all. It all fit together now. Ren's flinching, practically jumping from her skin whenever Jason had initially raised a hand around her- never to her. The perpetual apologizing, and the "M-" or "Yes Sir" occasionally slipping. M wasn't Mr. It was... He flung the collar back into the drawer, glowering with revulsion, his face dark with anger. Master. David had been one of "Those" people. Subjecting Ren to his iron-fisted edict, and whenever she failed to comply appropriately, he tore into her with words and abuse... all kinds of volatile situations rolled through Jason's mind as he ran a hand through his hair, a cold sweat upon his forehead and shoulders then. That... bastard... Jason renewed his hatred of David all over again, and vowed silently to GET him. As he finally found the bandaids and neosporin, he drew a breath and composed himself before returning. "How can you be so strong, and.." she'd said. And what? He knew now. "How can you be so strong, and not hurt smaller people like me?" or something to that effect. You didn't hurt people you loved. David never loved her, and if he ever had, it was nothing on the love Jason had for his Ren. "Sorry, I got lost," he gave a distracted smirk as he gently maneuvered her to a chair and sat her down in it. "How doesn't this hurt you?" he murmured, daubing a very small bit of the ointment onto the slice. "It's not a small cut," he insisted as he worked. "I..I'm kinda used to little stuff like that," she shrugged. "Pain becomes something else after awhile, if that makes sense," she murmured. "Sounds like that came out of a book," he mused. "I don't believe it, though. Pain's pain, no matter what someone wraps it up as," he reasoned, looking dead into her eyes. "There, all done," he said, releasing her hand to Ren's reluctance. She smelled sweet and exotic, and it made him dizzy. He had to stand up and clear his head of the scent of her, the feeling of her, so warm and so close to him, then. "You go sit down, and I'll make the sandwiches- I'm a professional at that, too," he winked. "Not on your vanity though, I almost didn't make it out alive!" he joked then. "What do you want in your sandwich?" he said, straying too close to asking about the collar. "Hope you didn't get lost on there, I forgot to tell you they were in the little clear box next to the jewelry box... but it's so covered in junk," she offered a faint smile, but obediently followed the direction his finger was pointing, replying, "It's up to you- surprise me, I trust your sandwich-making skills," with a mild chuckle. Her hand was still tingling from his attention to it. Ren hadn't realized it, but the couch still had a sheet on it from last night. She took it into her arms and lumped it around, then put it at the end onto which she flopped. She picked up the candy bar she'd hurled earlier, and put it on the coffee table, wondering what had made her so angry about Jason Knight that she'd fling good carbohydrates like that. Free-Falling Jason nodded, then. "Ok, I won't lick the cheese or anything, I'll make it palatable- hey, there's a word for you," he chuckled, grateful the mood had passed. A couple of minutes later, he bore the sandwiches on plates into the living room and put them down on the coffee table, then returned with a beer and a Mello Yello. He stopped, realizing how it'd look, and returned his beer for another soda. He occasionally threw glances in her direction, enjoying the play of the low light over the soft glow of her bare shoulders, the curve of her hip silhouetted against the lighter couch. "You- ah, you want anything else?" he asked, almost hovering. "Nah, I'm good- You can have a beer if you want one though," she offered, reaching for a plate. He was studying her again, in that peculiarly thrilling way that was almost like when they were together-together. It made her a little nervous, but it wasn't a negative scrutiny. She kind of enjoyed it, and found herself glancing at him quite a lot, too. At his shoulders, his jawline, his body. "That's ok," he fidgeted for a moment still, then got comfortable. He began eating, but didn't get too far. His mind wasn't allowing him to. The concerns of earlier, the fight from that morning resurfaced in his mind. They'd had an argument in Wal-Greens, and then on the way back to the apartment building they shared. "About.. earlier," he started, and Ren listened, pretending to be enjoying the sandwich, but it had suddenly lost it's flavor. "I'm sorry. Ren, I'm so sorry... I don't even know what went wrong." He looked down at the sandwich on his plate then. "I just screw up so much, and I don't mean to... and I surely don't want to screw this- us- up," he admitted. "I know how you feel," she said as she took prissy little bites of her sandwich, her bandaged finger held straight out as if she were having tea with Le Vicomte or somesuch. "It's like- I screwed up even when I didn't realize I screwed up before- and took my licks for it- but now, I just kind of blunder around like an idiot, and you're the one who takes the hit. I don't want that," she chewed some more then. He put his plate down, shaking his head slowly. "It's always something. It turns out to a fight or something every time we talk about it. the.. th-.. the pregnancy," he finally got out. He met her gaze, and insisted, "It shouldn't. There's just no reason for it to disentigrate like that." Ren coughed a little to re-arrange the last lump of sandwich stuck in her throat when he'd said 'the word'. She wiped her hands and put the empty plate down, then crossed her legs. She was glad she was still wearing the stretchy black pants- she couldn't cross her legs like that in jeans without them biting into her legs. "I know, but... it's just.. when something like that's thrown at you, it's..god, I don't know what it is," she shook her head and un-clamped her hair, finger-brushing it in the hopes that it'd ease the mounting tension headache before she started wadding it back up to clamp again. "I know I mess things up- I try not to, but I always do," she shook her head, frowning as she had to re-wad and try again. "No- no, hon.. you haven't messed up anything," he assured her, and slid closer to her, taking her hands in his. "Liet's just... let's face this like adults, you know?" He brought one of her small hands to his lips, kissing it gently. He looked at the bandaid he'd put onto her ring finger, and with a sudden kick of anxious surprise, he wished it'd been a ring. "What happens, happens, from now on, ok? In the meantime, there's us," he offered her tentatively. "What do you say?" She was so... naive, almost child-like in her reactions, her mannerisms. He could never get tired of watching her, and so he did. Ren's gaze dropped embarassedly. Like adults. Ren had been far from an adult when she'd blindly followed David to where she was now. She still felt she hadn't grown up enough for the likes of Jason. "How. I feel like a dumb teenager," she said disgustedly. "It wasn't meant to happen... if I'd just been careful, if I'd just been allowe- if I'd just gotten my own pills ... " she shook her head- well, he had her on that one... "But I'm," she gnawed her bottom lip until it tasted slightly metallic. "I'm really glad there's us. I never thought I'd have a real us with anyone," she said quietly as she gave his hands a tentative squeeze. Something settled over Jason as he watched her, then. What a weighty admission it was, coming from her.. that there even *was* an "us". From someone who had previously forbidden him to say "I love you". This was progress, and it didn't surprise him, but it did hearten him to press further. "I feel like a dumb teenager, too- I *am* a guy, after all. You've no idea how this has... but.. " he hesitated, faltering momentarily. "I don't *regret* it. I'm not sorry about us, or if there's one more of us in the future. But I am aware that this is a serious wake-up call for us both to 'grow up', if you want to call it that." For a moment, Ren just looked at Jason, her mouth slightly agape in surprise. This was the first honest conversation about this whole thing she'd had with him. "You're not a dumb teenager- just because you're around them a lot doesn't mean ... " she shook her head, "Sorry, that was just awful," she blinked. "but ... you're right. I should get my head out of my ass and use it once in awhile. I *have* to now. Nobody's going to whistle or crack a whip or pop a leash and expect me to have done my chores," she said bitterly. "And...as ... terrible... as it sounds..." she withdrew her hands to fold around her knees as she drew them up to hide behind, "I.. miss that. Well- I don't miss it... I just feel very... lost... without that kind of obvious direction. I have to be my own m- I have to be in charge of my own life now. Just because I got the bill-paying and walking-around single routine down doesn't mean I've aced it," she mumbled. Jason fought the sick feeling of hot anger simmering in his throat as he listened to her. Off the chain, and couldn't even allow herself to be grateful for it. God, he hated that bastard ex, David. "Baby, you aren't alone anymore," he said, wishing she hadn't taken her comforting warm body away from him. "Neither are you," she returned quietly, and then.. it was as though an unseen hand nudged Ren right over against him. "You aren't, for what it's worth," she repeated. His breath caught as he suddenly realized that her words were true. Although he'd always felt alone, for once, here someone was with him, in his life, wanting to share hers with him, and his with her. There was a future with this, and while it made him a little scared and surprised... he welcomed it with arms wide open. He gently put a hand on Ren's knee, thumbing it gently. "Ren.. I love you so much," was all he could say, the familiar flutter of wings, rushing, thrilling coursing through his veins harried by a hammering heart. Without a second's hesitation, Ren twisted around and drew herself up to kiss his cheek. "I love you, too. And I'm so glad we're vertical to say it this time," she murmured. "I believe it and I mean it," she sighed, feeling the warm safety of his body so near... but not nearly so far away as it had been previously. His throat tightened at her words. They struck him deep inside. No one had ever spoken to him this way. He reached up and smoothed her hair back softly before touching her face gently. The rest of his food forgotten, he pulled her into secure embrace. Quietly he said, "You know I mean it too, don't you?" "I do now,- I did- but I do now.. more," she fumbled into the hollow of his neck. "You can hear something for years, but it doesn't matter until you feel it- and I know that's so cheesy- I know it is, I'm sorry," but it was just how she- literally- felt. That profound, epiphanic grounding that just calmed and stilled her about Jason was what made it so. "No, no- " he shook his head again. "It isn't cheesy- I know what you mean," he argued quietly, a slow smile spreading upon his features. There was a time when he'd laugh if someone said something like that to him, but he was finally there- he'd arrived at that point where suddenly, *all* of those songs made sense now. He felt it through every cell in his body, and wanted to make sure she felt it through all of hers, too. There was something here, just the fragile undercurrent of something new, that would someday be strong and unshakable if allowed to flourish. He fervently hoped it would. He looked at her for a long moment, gazing into her pale eyes, and then leaned over, his mouth seeking and falling upon hers in a sweet, gentle kiss. Ren fought to tear her eyes away from his, but they were held fast, mesmerized by the amazing blue of them. She was the only thing she could see in them, and it scared and thrilled her at the same time. Then, suddenly, she was falling, falling into them, hopelessly... how could she be falling up? Alas, no- he was falling for her, to her. As her eyelids fluttered low and closed, and she felt the soft burn of his lips on hers, she felt her throat tighten, her breath catch in it. Falling felt so fine in his arms. Floating, falling.. that's exactly how Jason felt in a subtly ironic twist as he kissed Ren. It was a sensual, unadorned honesty in her kiss that rendered him defensless being so close to her. He scooped her up into his arms and pulled her into his lap, just to feel her warm weight upon him, and his arms encircled her instinctively, protectively... longingly. When it finally occured to him that she had rendered him breathless, he pulled unwillingly back, his heart pounding. God, this was it. It was really love. He kissed her cheek, her forehead, stroked her hair, and then pulled back again to wordlessly survey the woman in his arms. Jason's kiss shot straight through her, more fiercely, more rabidly, than any liquor buzz. Whiskey warmed her cheekbones and nose, but the hot, sharp flash of desire that gripped and twisted Ren's insides was better- and more powerfully addictive. Ren barely felt herself being swept up and then landing on his lap, but when they broke for air and lapped wantingly at one another, Ren glimpsed her toes curled like a barn owl around a field mouse. The question was... was she the owl or the mouse? God, either would feel so good if Jason were the other- now that wasn't just corn... that was... pure Karo syrup, that was... and Ren had no time to think about if it were light or dark, because in the next instant, her lips found his earlobe, then the thin, soft skin just beneath his ear, and her tongue lingered teasingly on it before she blew a breathy kiss onto it and moved back up his jaw. He shivered as her tongue found one of his more erogenous zones. She was so innocently tantalizing, unwittingly sexual. When her mouth traveled along Jason's strong jaw, his hands wandered up to feel her rounded breasts and soft nipples, gently circling them and caressing them through her clothing. This feeling she instilled in him, this lusty quickening, it was dangerous. It was fire. But it was so intimate, emotional, and pure, and raw. He wanted to express it to her, share it with her, and make her feel it, too. A primal moan was stifled feebly as her nipples hardened beneath his hungry touch, and Ren arched into his hands like a purring cat, her bottom pressing into his lap and her knees squeezing together. She twisted so that she could toss the halter's tied ends over her shoulder, encircle Jason's neck with her arms, and gently explore the taste of his lips, the warmth of his mouth, with a bold, yet gently-probing tongue. Her hands roamed through his short hair, around his neck, but mostly they held him close, just the way she liked him. Ren was slowly starting to realize that as much as she was Jason's plaything now, he was also a willing guinea pig for her amorous trial and error, too. She tried to make it enjoyable for them both, and so far, seemed to be succeeding. If this was all he could have of her, he'd have been a happy man. Just their nuzzling, their silent embraces, longing kisses, the glances, the feel of hands on flesh was sensual, erotic. Sex, if it were indeed as impending as it seemed, would only be icing. This was where it was, this silent expression of their emotion for one another, Jason in his carefully restrained manner, Ren in her inquisitive, curious exploration of his body in reaction to her own. Jason's hands lovingly slid along her frame, exploring her body, reacquainting his touch to her flesh, pausing to tantalize or explore various zones that elicited response from her. This was his home, this was where he belonged, kissing Ren, holding her, loving her. He nuzzled her neck, nipping gently along it until he murmured into her ear a plea fractured with desperation, "Please.. don't leave me..." Ren pushed an errant strand of hair from her face, then again as it returned insistently, and tucked it behind her ear. Her stomach seemed nervous, jittery, and tense, but not book-signing tense. A warm, quivery, sensitive sort of ripple began at roughly her groin, and made it's way not only up to her solar plexus, but all the way up her spine to her useless hairclip as well. Gooseflesh broke out on her bare back and shoulders as Jason's deft, feather-light touch danced over her body, fondling her like a first-edition Spiderman or a 5-gaited Stake cup from Louisville. "God," she breathed, "I couldn't if I tried," she uttered through teeth gritted against the hot, raw, barely-restrained wanting simmering inside her. In an unprecedentedly bold move, Ren braced on her outside knee and swung a leg over Jason's lap so that she straddled him, and her hands began roving up beneath his shirt, tickling along his ribs with just her fingernails, massaging his chest with her fingertips as her lips seldom left his. It was amazingly easy, she realized as her breath quickened. It was like dancing- her body found a natural, primal routine and she obediently moved with it, into his, and it just felt so right. His electric blue eyes widened as Ren strided his lap, one muscular thigh on either side of his, her center brushing dangerously, scintillatingly close to his- and closer as he grew. For a moment, he could only pant, taking in the silhouette her body made against the kitchen light in the background, and then he felt greedy. He slid his hands beneath her top, just to elicit a ripple of stomach muscles in her body's excitement, and then he slowly reached up, untied the top, and it fell away, exposing her beautiful breasts with their hardening nipples. "God, you're so beautiful," he whispered, sliding the shirt over her head and letting it fall where it may. She wasy staying- she was staying, and those words were all he needed to hear. His fingers slid salaciously along her spine, spreading out against her back and shoulders, his thumbs joining at her stomach, a frenzy of roaming fervor as he sought to taste her through his fingertips, to feel her warm, soft skin. Finally, his hands roved back up to her alert breasts, his thumbs each eclipsing a jutting nipple before he lowered her to his mouth, pulling first one in, his tongue circling slowly around her darkened areola, then flicking insistently against the turgid rising in the center of it. He transferred to the other, performing the same until her body elicited the response he wanted. His teeth teasingly grazed the hard bud as he slyly glanced up at her face. His loins gave a twitch as Ren's thighs gripped him possessively. The cool air rushed in to prickle her naked flesh, and a strangled whimper that sounded more like a kittenish snarl rumbled up from somewhere inside her. As he tugged gently at the other, a squeak of surprised need was elicited from her. When he broke for air next, she swooped his shirt over his head in one swift motion. "Mmmm," she groaned as she placed the palms of her hands on his warm, impossibly broad shoulders her lips to his, and she sensuously tackled him sideways until his head rested on the couch arm and she was staring down at him with a wildly absent, devilish look in her eye. She puffed irritably at the same damn strip of black hair that now stuck to her face, slightly moist with perspiration and possibly her own drool- yes, he had that effect, and scowled at it, but lowered herself softly against him, her body lightly caressing his, as she entangled her legs with one of his. He'd never been lain by a woman before. Tumbled, yes, tackled, knocked out, yes... but not .. lain, and that's exactly what and how Ren did it. Her body gently tilted him, and he found himself falling for her- literally- all over again. And he loved it, even though the couch was too short for his height, awkward-feeling, and almost uncomfortable. More uncomfortable, though, was the stiffening arousal struggling against his jeans. He didn't care at all, though, as his hands slipped from her sexy torso and his thumbs hooked the waist of her pants. Before long, her sexy little pants had joined their friends on the floor, and Jason was enjoying the sight of her nearly-nude form wearing nothing but a petite little thong with an innocent, magenta-colored, lacy front. As their tongues lashed furiously at one another, his fingertips lightly tickled the outline of her panties, teasing her through the thin lace. He jumped a little as he felt the insistent bud of her feminine flower standing up from between her soft petals of flesh even through her panties, and as he grazed a middle finger along her slit, he found her to be damp. It was more than he could bear. He began to peel her panties slowly off her, his hands lingering over her firm, round backside, before adjusting her so that he could slide them down her beautiful legs. They were discolored with past scars, but they were beautiful to Jason. He loved them as he loved all of her. "You're hot," he gave a mischievous grin as the panties landed on the coffee table. "Oh, god, OH, god," she intoned fervently as his fingers teased needle-like sensations all over her barely-clad body, fueling the roiling fire behind her navel and lower, and she pressed a smooth thigh against the hardness behind his jeans, working it experimentally until it was either the feeling of that hardness or his hands racing along her flesh that made her underwear damp. She kissed down his chest, swirled her tongue on his stomach briefly while she scrambled to unfasten his jeans, and when she'd succeeded in releasing what she fleetingly smirked at when she thought of 'caged monster', she pressed her stomach against it, rolling into him just to feel how much he wanted her. Then... she did something she'd never willingly done in her entire life. Ren shot a nervous glance at Jason as she reached down and gently cupped him, pulling him free from his boxers, slid down between his legs, and ran her tongue along his smooth length, her hands shaking as she did so, half-expecting a hardened hand to crash down on the back of her head and cram her face down onto it, biting the hair-clamp into her scalp. She prayed he wasn't greedy, and was unaware of the tensed, worried expression she wore as she worked. The groan that escaped Jason was unable to be restrained, and he shot a surprised look at her as she slid sensuously down to the floor. As Ren began tasting and teasing his long stem of aroused flesh, his eyes rolled heavenward to the ceiling, his fingernails gripped the couch, and one rested on her shoulder, not on the back of her head- that'd scare her, he somehow knew. Her sucking him off came as a surprise to him. This wasn't something they'd previously discussed or done, but he saw it as a touching, spine-tingling act of complete surrender to him, something that both exhilrated and worried him. The look on her face while she did it cinched it, though. Free-Falling With all of the will-power he could muster, he gently cupped her chin and slid her mouth from his erection. "Baby... you don't have to if you don't want to, always remember that," he gasped. He was only human- the attention her tongue and lips had paid to his member had curled his toes, but he wouldn't make her suffer. He'd only give her pleasure, all the days and all the ways he could manage. His breath rose his sweaty, chiseled chest, and he actually squirmed as he watched her. She was so sexy. He'd never do anything to hurt her or take that away from her. Carefully, as though ready to bolt for the door at any time, Ren bobbed slipperily up and down Jason's thick shaft, making no sound as she did, just as she'd learned, and just as she'd learned too, she avoided looking up at him, only at her work. She felt awkward in the position she was in- she should have been on her knees with her hands behind her back, or.. or.. her throat closed and she began to panic when Jason finally- she glanced up at him in shock- gave her a choice. "... What?" she said, wiping the corner of her mouth. "Are you sure?" she studied him carefully, her chest rising and falling rapidly- in spite of her hatred for the ultimate act of submission, of compromise... she found herself even more aroused by his enjoyment of it- but more importantly, his willingness to sacrifice that enjoyment for hers. She stopped. He'd kind of expected her to, but it still almost ached his loins when she slid him slowly out of her mouth. Her face was again beautiful with relief, instead of contorted with fear or distaste, though. He gently pulled her up, and her completely naked body raked against the sensitive, swollen erection she'd just teased until he'd thought it could grow no more. He ignored it as best as he could as his lips moved along her jaw to her neck, circling her skin with his tongue, his fingers gripping and kneading her buttocks as she ground into him mercilessly. He could have gotten more rough, more possessive, and she'd still have enjoyed it, but in a way, Ren was glad that he was gentle, hungry yes, but gentle. It felt so good to relax into him, instead of tense against him. "Please," she breathed when she could take the hot insistence of his erection so close to where it should be anyways no longer. "Take me to bed," she gasped against his mouth in an insistent kiss. "I want you," she tried to keep the insistence, the pleading from her voice, but it was so ragged from emotion and lust that it did no good to bother. Just those words, uttered urgently, needily, almost drove him over the edge, as did the insistent, piercing gaze she held him trapped inside. He needed no further encouragement as he wrapped her arms around his neck and then stood, hoisting her, her thighs still gripping him with the strenght of years spent breaking horses, and strode purposefully toward her bedroom. Ren took the opportunity to just hold him, ride with him, enjoy his solid confidence. He lay her gently on the cool sheets, and turned the lamp on beside them. She reached and turned it off. He turned it on again, and when her hand went to it, he gently caught it. "You're beautiful- I want to see you," he murmured. Ren swallowed hard, but nodded, easing along the sheets to make room for him. When at aching last he lay naked beside her, she whispered "I love you," once more, looking into his eyes, as though saying, 'I'm trusting you with me- and I know you won't hurt me'. Soon, she was lost within an erotic spiral of caresses, of ghosting, feather-light touches, of possessive ravishing, of tasting... time slipped away, as did Ren's final shred of inhibition with Jason as his tongue neared a place it hadn't gone before. Ren's words echoed in his ears, driving him crazy. To feel wanted, needed like that... it was a tough order to fill, but one he'd enjoy filling. When he rejoined her on the bed, he resumed his gentle, wanting explorations of her body with his hands and mouth, first kissing her lips, his hands smoothing and entwining in her hair, then he slid lower to her neck, her breasts, too. He nibbled her stomach as his hands traced along her sides, eliciting a ticklish zing and a new wetness from her, and then, his mouth strayed where it hadn't before. He'd wanted for awhile to please her, to give her something he now knew she hadn't gotten from David, and now was finally the right time. A quick hiss of shock tensed her body as the unexpected overture sizzled through her, and she lay still, processing the new sensation. But then, he draped her oddly-colored leg over his shoulder and he was nearer to her than he'd ever been short of actual penetration. "Are you sure," she murmured, propping up on an elbow to look down at him. It was a final frontier of sorts for her- an act at least the man *she* had previously known would *never* have deigned to do. Apprehension gripped her as she had no idea what to expect. Jason's lips kissed the faint line of darkened hair, and then, he gazed upward at her as he thumbed her own small erection, his fingers spreading wide the soft curtains of smooth flesh on either side of it, and his tongue swiped up her slit in a long, slow taste that raised her off the bed with a cry. "Oh, I'm sure," he murmured, his breath teasing the hot, slick trail his tongue and her already flushed center had provided. He didn't give her another chance to speak as he kissed her folds, his tongue wheedling in between them to circle and draw out the flushed pink pearl nestled at the top, to suckle it, to rake his teeth gently over it, and then, to slide lower and savor the warmth of her depths. One hand reached up and gently held hers, telling her not to be afraid, to just enjoy being loved in this different, new way, to surrender to it. His own arousal leaked a clear droplet of pre-release onto his stomach as he tasted her and submitted to her the most intimate kiss he could provide, groaning into her, reveling in her beautiful, exotic femininity. Driving her crazy drove him just as mad- it was all he could do to keep his arousal in check, but still, his tongue danced along her most sensitive of places, eliciting writhing, muted cries from her, her hand clasping his with a sweaty fervor as she neared her peak. Never had he enjoyed giving this to a woman as much as he did to Ren. It was so teasingly erotic and sensually focusing, that he found himself getting as worked up as she obviously was. She squeezed his hand as though he were drawing blood from her... and in the next few seconds, he was most indeed drawing *something* from her, that was indubitable. A yelp of surprised ecstasy was torn from her lips as her whole body stiffened and quivered helplessly beneath Jason's tongue until soon her hips were unable to remain glued to the bed. "Jason!," she moaned, "I'm- I'm gonna... c-cc..." and she did... shame and being unable to wait, to hold back, didn't get a foothold because the gush of hot orgasm consumed her completely. Gasping as though through a deluge of water, Ren realized how tightly she was still gripping Jason's hand, how her heels dug into the bed on either side of him, and how her fist had torn loose the sheet from the top corner of her mattress. "How... on *earth* ...did you DO that...?!" she asked, the hair clip falling uselessly beside her on the pillow, her sweaty black mane cascading down, free at least. He gave her a mischievous sort of smirk and then slowly inched up her body, careful not to touch his burning rod against her skin as he did so. Was she spent? Could she go again? He didn't think he could hold his in much longer. "Are you ready?" he whispered, lavishing another kiss upon her. Ren was startled to taste herself upon his lips, but returned the kiss just as longingly, and pressed into him. She was ready. She was insatiable at that point, and when she brought Jason's hand down to her slit to feel it growing slippery again, she murmured, "What do you think?" with a devilish glint in her own eye. "Where are the," he was rummaging around in her nightstand. His hand closed over what was unmistakably *not* a flashlight, but he didn't say anything. Finally, he withdrew a small foil packet, brandishing it as though it were excalibur. Or it's sheath, at least. He kissed her again, slipping down beside her, but he found his ability to be gentle slowly ebbing as his want for her to consume him in her deep embrace grew ravenously fierce. Ren glanced away, flushing even deeper, as he fished around in the night-stand... surely he didn't think... but there he produced a condom finally, and she almost sighed in relief. "You're.. yeah, you're amazing," she whispered, kissing him greedily. "Carry on," she smiled bashfully, biting her bottom lip and looking askance at him. "Ooh," he sighed at that sexy lip-bite, and he thrust against her, then ripped the condom from the package and popped it on as quickly as he could. "Damn, I want you," he whispered huskily as he mounted her, unable to wait any longer. He cupped her buttock, then slid his hand down her thigh, lifting her leg, and slid between her thighs. He teased her slit with his protected erection, and gasped, even though it didn't feel the same. "Oh, OH GOD," he moaned as he slipped into her, feeding his length into that warm velvet grasp that accepted him snugly, willingly. He drew himself in and out for a few seconds, thrusting quickly, vigorously, and then, with a raised eyebrow, he withdrew, and in a roll, pulled Ren over so that she now strided him. "Your turn, honey," he encouraged her, his hands teasing circles on her thighs, tickling the backs of her knees, roaming up to her buttocks, her waist and then resting on her hips. "Augh," she grunted as she felt his cock tease along her wet slit, and cried out as he deliciously stabbed into her, taking her, owning her, in one efficient thrust. "That's it," she snarled, and bucked into him and clawed his back like a rutting alley cat. Already her eyes were almost crossing again. She hadn't known it was possible to go for two in one night- sure, she'd read about it, but figured most of those novels were based on glamorized myth. Now she knew it to be true, though. Each time he spoke- or at least articulated sound, she moaned in response, unable to stifle herself. The soft kiss he lavished upon her, however, should have given her foreshadowing that something was about to change. "No-" she gasped, but she had no choice as he flipped their positions just as quickly as the first time her teacher had dipped her in mambo... Oh, but it was far more feisty and satisfactory *this* way... if Ren could just work past it- convince herself she could... "No- I can't do this," she worried down at him, hiding her face in his neck. Already, though, the movement inside her grazed her slick walls, eliciting new sensations in new places, causing her thighs to tremble and grip Jason's hard body with a fiendish possession of her own. His hands gripped her hips a little more firmly as he looked at her. "Ren. Baby- look at me," he whispered, and gently loosed a hip so that he could turn her chin, looking into her eyes. "Yes, you can. Don't be scared. I love you. It's your choice, but I know you can," he spoke, marveling at his articulate coherence while his penis was nudging her quivering gash. He nudged just the head in, and moved around beneath her to help her decide. Rigid and pulsing, Jason's thick shaft convinced her that yes, she could *and* would... and she'd like it, too. Ren closed her eyes, kissed Jason once more, as though saying good-bye for the last time... and then... took flight. Rising, falling, pounding against and around him, Ren gripped Jason's hands in hers, and moved with him as best as she could, their sweat making her balance triicky, slippery. She rose up so that he almost left her, then sank onto him, engulfing him completely again and again, her toes curling impossibly with each thrust, until the sweet, tickling fire that had lain curled like a sleeping kitten now suddenly roared and lashed hungrily at it's cage, molten and scorching, and again, lost in herself, in Jason, in the moment Ren finally broke the invisible collar, she released a primal groan- and then some- upon her hapless lover, collapsing breathlessly onto him, sweat and tears streaking her face as she twitched, still surrounding him, unable to relent quite yet, until her breaths, her heartbeats, her reeling sanity stilled and quieted. Jason almost couldn't restrain himself, watching her moving above him, and he felt himself sliding more deeply inside her than before, it seemed. Feeling the new contours and tightness of her slick grip upon him was intoxicating, electrifying, and her beautiful, raw power hung about her in a crackling aura. "Free, baby," he managed to murmur as she pulled from him a groan which crescendoed into a roar, and then he ejected his pent-up, boiling arousal into that vile little sleeve which was the only thing separating them from being truly one. He gasped, riding out- or being ridden out- as the final waves of climax flowed through both of them. She slid from him, eased onto him, released him, embraced him, faster, deeper, harder, his hips pumping her, his hands gripping her, and he watched her slowly leave, released... free. The woman who climaxed fiercely, roughly, raggedly- and simultaneously with her willingly-captive lover, collapsed in a heap on his chest was not the Ren he'd first met. She was finally a woman. Her own woman. His woman, too, if she deigned to be. She couldn't speak for quite some time- she didn't trust her voice to come out at all, but finally, when she could, she almost sobbed, "I love you, too. I didn't think I could do that..." her body still jittered intermittently, as though the third wire of the electric fence was down and every time the wind blew, it arced against another one... but there was no fence now. It was gone. Experimentally, Ren released her grip with one hand to touch her neck. Even though it hadn't been there for some time, now it actually *felt* gone. "Thank you, Baby," she sniffled into his neck, her wet eyelashes tickling his cheek. Jason opened his eyes dazedly and looked up, focusing on her tangled black hair. He realized the change upon her just as when he'd felt it, heartbeats before. He reached up and smoothed her hair from her face, gently fingering away her tears. "You're free, Ren. You're beautiful, and strong, and I love you. I'm yours," he smiled, shocked to find his own eyes brightening wetly. He reached down and removed their protection so that he could just lie with her and hold her. He was grateful to be free from it. "I'm more yours than I ever thought," she countered, almost tiredly... she wouldn't dare try to sprint up and down stairs now, for awhile. "Here," she raised up and leaned over him to the night-stand, withdrawing another small foil packet. "Don't ask," she blushed as she withdrew the "refreshing towelette" from it's packet, but couldn't help smirking a little as she cleaned him off, just to be safe. She'd never thought she'd use one of those on a real one, either. She gathered the pile of... used stuff... and swooped it into the trash-can next to her bed, then gratefully immersed herself in his arms again, one toe snaking some of the covers up over their legs, her arm reaching to bring them up the rest of the way. Then, she just lay in the cliche'd afterglow, the golden, heady buzz of such complete and whole release and satisfaction and love for each other that nothing could ruin it. Nothing, dammit. Free Falling Today was one of those days where rain never stopped falling. A day where the wind roared and the leaves jumped down the street in sync. I sat in the front seat of my mom's dodge mini van watching the water pour from the sky. "Aren't you excited sweetie?" my mom's jolly voice rang in my ears. "About what?" I knew exactly what she was talking about, and I hated the reality of being a part of it. Today was the day we finally moved. Weeks of hints and small talk built up to this moment. I remember sitting down reading one of my zombie stories when my mother suddenly appeared in my door. "Whacha reading honey?" she asked as if she really wanted to know. I could almost feel the annoyance reradiating off me, "Zombies mom." "Sounds great!" her voice always seemed to squeak when she was excited, and I knew something was about to happen. "but can I ask my lovely Robin a hypothetical question?" I cringed, God don't let us have a sex talk. "Yes?" I could only hope my prayer would be answered. "What do you say about moving to Cambine?" she asked playing with a strain of her curly black hair. I sat my book on the floor," Excuse me?" Cambine had to be the creepiest place ever put on the maps, why the hell would she want to move there? She jumped into my room," Oh honey just think of the possible opportunity we could have there, It'll be like mother and daughter against the world!" I stared at her, totally not impressed. "Excuse me?" "Please sweetie, you know with the divorce and everything, I just think that an exotic place like Cambine would help me, no, help us start over." That sentence said it all, she was still upset about dad, and wanted to move to someplace just to shake the feeling that he ever existed. I knew I couldn't say no, not after she pulled the daddy and mommy divorce card on me. I still couldn't believe what I was about to do, I simply stared into her dark brown eyes and said "Sure mom, I think moving there would be great." **** The memory made me shiver, I still couldn't believe I let that divorce bullshit talk me into agreeing with this move. My mom continued to ramble on about the big move. How we would visit all the stores we wanted too or look off of cliffs at beautiful sunsets. Then she said something that peaked my interest. "And honey your going to love your new school!" Fuck! I totally forgot about that! Going to a new school had to be the hardest thing anyone could ever go through. I couldn't imagine how bad of an outcast I would be. Cambine might have been creepy, but the weirdest thing was that mostly everyone there never seemed to tan. They were pale as a bone, especially compared to my dark skin. "I can't wait mom." I said with fake smile, I was dead inside. **** I woke up just to see a sign that read "Welcome to Cambine" Great we were here. I continued to stare out the window, trying not to make a move so my mom wouldn't start talking. God this town was pathetic. Everything seemed lifeless ,even the colors on the flowers seemed more dark than usually. I scanned the townspeople, just like I said, pale. Why did we have to move, I enjoyed my life in my own room without anyone bothering me. I enjoyed being that girl sitting in the shadows that no one noticed, but here I would be the center of attention. The new girl, a title I loathed to have. My mom slowed to a stop in front of a small white house. "We're here!" she said tugging my shoulder. "Alright, I'm awake, Geez." I watched my mom run toward the house. I couldn't really tell its flaws in the dark, but I'm sure whatever damage, it was nothing that couldn't be fixed. I stepped from the van and followed my mom into our new home. It was two bedroom, two bathrooms with a living room, a kitchen, and a washing room. I walked to the furthest bedroom, it wasn't big but it was prefect for being alone. "I call dibs on this room!" I yelled. I walked further into the room and looked around. The walls were all black including the boarder on the top and bottom. God it'll take weeks to paint over that, must have been some Goth's room. I looked at the far wall out the window to get a glimpse of what my view looked like, then I saw him. A boy, no, a man staring right back at me. I yelped in fear at the icy pale blue eyes penetrating me. I knew this was a freaky fucking town! I stumbled back toward a black wall, landing on it with a hard thud. "What the fuck?!" I screamed, gaining balance and running out the room. I ran right into a tall figure. "Let me go you creep!" "I might be an over excited mother, but I am no creep!" I was so relieved to hear that squeaky voice," Oh god mom, there's some creep in the last room!" I couldn't help shaking. There was no way I was staying in this house or this town. "Calm down sweetie, we'll check it out." she walked on toward the room, and I slowly followed. "See sweetie, there's no one watching you." she pointed at the window, and sure enough, all I saw was a single bush swaying with the wind. **** I couldn't sleep that night, all I could think about was some pervert trying to break in and throw himself on me or my mom. I clenched my baseball bat to me. I'd like to see someone try and fuck with us! That bat was the best thing I had for protection. I remember buying it from a local dollar general store with my allowance money my dad always gave me. It wasn't much but damn could it scare off some rats. That's the only reason I ever bought it, if this pink girl power bat could scare of the scariest rodent on earth, then it damn sure could scare some homeless pervert out of a house. I stared at the ceiling in my new room. Wait! Why the hell am I sleeping in here? Oh yeah, my girl power baseball bat. Every now and then I'd sneak peaks at that window just to see if that creep had big enough balls to come back, and if he did, I shattered his ball sack with this bat and laugh at his pain! He wouldn't think about coming here again. I felt my eyelids go heavy, must be time to try and sleep. I laid down on the soft bed closed my eyes, maybe the eyes were some figment of my imagination. Maybe the town isn't freaky, maybe I'm just psycho. "No sweetie, your anything but psycho." Did I say that aloud? Please god say I did, and please god tell me that was my mom that answered my question. "I'm afraid I'm not god, but I will tell you that I answered your question." That voice wasn't in my head, it was in my room! My eyes shot open and my mouth opened to scream, but no sound came out. I started at icy blue eyes, the same ones that were at my window. I knew he'd be back, but how did he get in? Then I remembered girl power. I gripped my bat with all I had and swing it like my life depended on it, because I knew it did, but nothing. He simply dodged it and slapped it to the ground. "Is that anyway to treat a guest?" he asked innocently. I tried screaming again, but then I realized why I couldn't. There was a pale hand over my mouth. "Don't fight me Robin, I promise I'm not here to hurt you." his voice was deep, but more enchanting than scary. Why did I believe him? He broke into my home, God there was no telling what he would do to me or my mom. My mom! Oh shit! I have to save her. I struggled to move but he was somehow holding me down with his hand. "Your mom is fine, it isn't her I want, it's you." I started shaking my head hard. This cant be happening, it just cant be. He was suddenly on top of me giving the moonlight time to shine on his person. My god he was beautiful. Strong chin, straight nose, short brown hair, and full lips. The main feature were those hypnotic eyes. They started into my brown ones. He lowered his mouth toward mine and planted the tiniest of kisses on my lips. I felt sparks fly. What am I thinking? This man is going to kill me! "I will do no such thing." He assured as his mouth started planting more tiny kisses on my neck. Each one sending chills down my spine. " Just relax sweetie" His kisses became larger but just as slow, soon he made his way to my collar bone. "Take off your shirt." he ordered. Before I could protest, I felt the fabric ripped from my flesh. Then his full lips took in a chocolate nipple, causing me to moan. "Please..." I tried to stop him by placing a hand on his strong face. He only moved to the other nipple flicking it lightly with his tongue. I let another moan escape. His lips continued down my stomach and stopping at the line just above my sweet sex. He lifted his head and smiled a perfect smile "Do you really want me to stop?" he asked so cunningly. I couldn't focus, he had me tamed. "Oh god..." I squeezed my eyes shut, I knew this couldn't be real. His voice passed through my ears "you seem to call to god a lot." I never responded; the sensations he sent through me were incredible. I could feel his breath in the exact place he had stopped. Why hasn't he continued? Why did I want him too? "Your wish is my command." He licked below my belly, and before I knew it; I saw my white boy shorts fly across the room. I was exposed to him! I tried to cover my womanhood, but he grabbed my hands and secured them to my sides. "Didn't I tell you not to fight me?" he teased. Now I could fell his breath right between my legs. "What do you want Robin?" "Please..." There was that word again. Was I begging him for it? I never felt anything like this before. I knew I must have been dripping wet before him. I felt so cold down south. His hands moved and he rested them on my thighs. He lifted them and chuckled. "I know what you want." He began to dive into my pussy like it was his last meal, slurping ever drop of my juices down his throat. My moans grew louder the more aggressive he got. He began moving his tongue in patterns between my lips while flicking my clit every chance his tongue passed it. My nipples grew hard and I began to pull and pinch them to a point of pain. "Fuck!" I screamed as my breathing grew heavy and I felt the build up in my stomach. I pulled at the nubs harder while his tongued worked magic down below. He soon found my opening and darted in and out; his finger playing with the clit when the tongue left. Damn he was hitting all the right spots! I arched my back, my toes curled, I threw my head back and prepared for the best orgasm of my life. I screamed as the cum squirted on his face making him glisten like a glazed donut, and he licked every drop of it up. My vision was blurry and my head was dizzy. I felt my bed slump down; he was crawling on top of me. I never noticed how muscular he was or how tall. His body covered my 5'4 frame intensely then I could feel something poking against me. "No.." I trailed off," I'm a..." He placed both his hands on either side of my head. "I knew exactly what you are, and now you belong to me." My brown eyes met blue as I looked up. This guy is fucking crazy. He smirked, "You'll see me again, and when it's time you'll be mine, all mine." He stood and instantly I was alone in my new bedroom. Was it a dream? Fuck it, I'll figure that out later. I closed my eyes and drifted off into a heavenly sleep.