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It Begins. . . .

By: The_Bagman



It begins with awareness. I think, therefore…a quick slide down a knife-edge gleam of moonlight and splash, we’ll enter this world together. Easy-like. A long moment of queasy disorientation as the lights swim in my vision and come into focus.

I touch down, crouched on all fours in a puddle of oily muck at the ass-end of an alley that stinks to high-heaven of piss and rotting vegetables. Like backpacks always seem to do, mine rolls right off my shoulder smashing my hand and splashing my face with dank and foul-smelling water. Fuck,fuck,fukfukfukohfuk. At the alley proper, the lone streetlight bronzes the brick alley wall. Massaging my aching lower back, my breath fogging in the cold November air, I shoulder my dripping backpack and pick my way towards the street, emerging from around a pile of sodden pallets. In the coppery glow of the streetlights, the street is a million miles of emptiness stretching out in either direction. I got a ticket to…. 

“Broadway”

That’s what the battered streetsign says as I come up to the nearest cross street. I can’t tell what street I am on now, that half of the cross is a rusty, gnarled-up remnant that’s probably been there since the Holy Roman Empire. But I know where Broadway is (every city in America’s gotta have a Broadway) and approximately where I am now. At least I stayed in the right city. The ride all the way back from Portland (friggin, fucking Portland I tripped to, the first time…can you believe that?) took forever. 

“Caution…caution…caution”, the yellow stoplight blinks its warning. Think about what you’re doing, going to do, did. I dunno….shit. I must do this if only to end the pain even though I will have never done it. That’s paradox for you baby. Charge of the Lightning Brigade and all that rot.

Speakin o’ which, I’d best be getting a move on if I’m gonna make this work. The clock on the wall of the dry cleaners winds its way past 3 AM. Soon, my love, soon. Gotta get a chariot, man. Got to break a trail across this slumbering city. I turn right along Broadway and start walking. Gotta get a car and I’m looking. I have removed my gun from the backpack and it’s shoved down the waistband of my pants. I can feel its cold, blue hardness through my tidy-whities and its (TRUE LOVE) time has come at last. 

That poor black man driving the Buick has no idea (not a clue, but sane people don’t do this kind of shit) but he should have locked his car doors. He slows to a stop at the intersection, and the flickering red, green, and purple neon from the pawn shop window across the street lights up his face. I see it a fat, tired old man’s face reflecting the ghastly grey-greenness. CU-See me. Not. He doesn’t see me until I step forward from the shadows of the doorway and then it’s too late.

Jumping right in. Yep, just opening the door and hopping right in. One minute, darkness and some quiet R&B on the radio, next minute…skinny little white boy with a gun sittin in the passenger seat.

“Drive!” I shout, brandishing the gun at him and slamming the door shut. “Drive, goddammit, drive.” He stays frozen just a few more seconds, eyes wide with shock, mouth a small O of surprise. But then he romps on the pedal and the Buick roars to life, a screamin demon o’ Detroit steel and we are…..OFF! 

(27 seconds pass)

“Slow down!” I scream over and over, madly, desperately, “Jesus Christ, slow the fuck down! I’m not gonna kill you, all right? I just need you to take me somewhere. You have to take me to the Interstate. That’s all I ask, all right? Just drop me off where I tell you and I won’t kill you. Just need to borrow your time for a while”.

He slows down to about 40 mph. “That’s better, “ I say. “Thank you. Just drive me to the Interstate and drop me off where I tell you.” He nods, eyes flicking towards me.

“Tell me your name,” I say.

He snorted a sharp, bitter sound and growls out “Walter.”

“Walter What?”

“Walter….Geisling.” 

“Thank you, Walter Geisling, for driving me to the Interstate. It is a necessary thing that I must take you at gunpoint like this, for I must not, cannot fail in what I must do. The life of my beloved depends on you now, Walter.”

It is then that I notice he is drunk and we are weaving ever so slightly between ye old yellow lines. Well, who else is out on the road at 3:30 in the morning? And don’t the gods watch out for drunks and fools? Christ, I hope so…just this one night. Please tonight. We roll on and on into the night, the engine purring and eating up the pavement. The drunk and the fool side by side. Hmmm, you know the Fool is in both a pack of Bicycle and the Rider-Waite. The Fool, the Joker, is Fated, man. 

*.*;* (wildcard)

Something bumps against my leg. I look down at my feet to discover a bottle wrapped in a brown paper bag. Pulling it out of the bag, I hold it up for inspection. It is only about one-third full of some clear brown liquid.

“What’s in the bottle?”

“Whiskey, boy.” Walter frowns at I unscrew the cap and take a swig. Blue fire burns down my throat as the good cheap whiskey goes down. 

“Aaah. That’s good,” I croak, wiping my mouth on my sleeve. I motion to him with my gun, “Want some?” He nods, taking the bottle from me.

“Walter,” I say as we start down the ramp onto the interstate highway, “Do you believe in true love?”

“Well,” He has calmed down a little since we first met, “Mebbe so, there is such a thing, bud I ain’t been the one to find it. “

“Listen now, Walter, for I have a strange tale to tell you…just to pass the time-like and maybe you’ll understand why I have, um, retained your services, so to speak.” (Here is where the real story begins).

“The first time I actually, really saw (I know that now) my beloved was on television. Just a 10-second flash of a photograph someone had taken of her at a Christmas Party. Hell, her eyes were even red. But she was beautiful. Absolutely gorgeous, not in a fashion model sort of way, but in the way that some women are vessels of such raw primal femininity: Lilith. A woman like that has the power to burn a man’s heart to ashes with desire. That’s old power, Walter, and it comes thundering out at you from the sweat of their skin, the depths of their eyes, the shadows curling around the nape of their necks…it’s source lies hot and tight and dark up in their bellies and in the pounding pulse of their blood.”

“These are women, who when they join to a man, make him a better man than he could ever be alone. Lift him up; guide him that they together may create something entirely new and wonderful upon the face of the Earth. Really big stuff…y,know like civilization, the pyramids, and three-year olds that lick popcicles.”

Walter glanced over at me. “Ayup, my mama was somethin like that, she was a good woman….”

I rushed on, “All of this I saw in a window of 10 seconds in window of a news report. A small sound byte of a story of a woman who had been found dead in her car along the interstate. She had apparently skidded off the road and down the embankment into the brush, which had concealed her car for four days before some passing motorist, perhaps glimpsing a flash of chrome, had thought enough to stop and investigate. Although suffering severe injures in the crash, the medical examiner determined that she had died of exposure while trapped in her car. A sad tragic item in every respect. Why had it taken four days before she turned up? Why hadn’t anyone reported her missing? She was alone in the world, no close friends or family in the city. She lived by herself in a third-floor apartment with only her cat for company (a fat-ass, lazy tabby tom as I found out but I’ll get to that). She had no one to report her missing. Tragedy compounded upon tragedy. 

It was one of those stories that bring home one of the first lessons you learn as an adult: life is not fair and God is unjust. She did not deserve such a fate but there was nothing that I could do about it, however much I might want to. Perhaps, though, in the way that a single rock tumbling down from a craggy precipice triggers a rockslide large enough to bury the village below, events can combine to reach a state where the rules can be bent a little. Her name I whispered reverently, ‘ (MY BELOVED) Tina.’

Tina. Just an ordinary American name for a woman, one part steel rebar, one part raw naked lust and one part honeybear sweetness. If I wasn’t certifiable before that, I really was after seeing Tina’s picture right up on that there old Mitsubishi SpectroMax, pilgrim. Especially, given the context of the news item.

“Walter, I might have been sane before seeing Tina on TV. But after seeing her for the first time, first time mind you, I was started upon a path that I can see now was quite irrevocable. By that, I mean that I had no more control over the events occurring in my life than that pebble did in it’s path down the mountain.”

“See, suddenly I had a whole complete set of memories of sharing my life with Tina. Of being totally, deeply head-over-heels in love with her. Now, Walter, imagine all that kind of splendidly happy shit coexisting with my real day-to-day scratch-your-hairy-ass-and-make-the-coffee-yourself-in-the-morning existence of squalid bachelorhood. Some sort of leaked out my ears. And my eyes. And my nose. And my mouth, which really got me in trouble.” 

“See, I could remember the details of intimate life together with Tina…everything…the circumstances under which we first met, what her favorite pair of shoes was, how many steps it was up to her third-floor apartment, how she always looked coming out of the shower with that towel wrapped JUST-SO…”

“I remember our first time,” I said with a wistful smile.

(the first time)

Once Tina got out of the hospital we started dating and had been for about four months, just casually at first but then more seriously and exclusively. We went through all the “first” stages that all couples go through (some couples go through ‘em A LOT QUICKER than we did). First kiss, first base, all that complicated week-n-month anniversary stuff (where you better buy her those flowers if you aren’t sure, buddy), and that date that turns into the first time.

We were sitting at a table near the back of Newbury’s, drinkin’ beer an’ watching this halfway decent bar-band (Iggy’s House or something) rattle and hum their way through some old U2. Just talking and kind of relaxing. Tina got up to go pee and leaning back bit, I watched her go. Now, I’m an assman. Tits, I can take ‘em or leave ‘em, but a nice firm heart-shaped ass almost gives me a lump in my throat. Watching the barlights glinting off the shiny fabric of her mini-skirt silhouetting those firm, twin globes beneath: aye, tis a great thing of beauty. Made my blood quickened and ran hot. My cock surged up, emphatically agreeing. I sighed, it had been more than a few months now and I had begun to despair of ever sampling Tina’s untold treasures.

Tina returned and sat down across from me. She ordered another beer and when it arrived, we talked some more. She started playing with the ashtray, spinning this way and that and rolling it around on the table and eventually dropped it down under the table. Chiding her severely, I bent under the table to retrieve the damn thing. 

While I was down there, groping amongst the cigarette butts, dirt, bottlecaps, and dried up gum, Tina shifted her legs apart just a bit. Right up the curves of her legs did my eyes follow, ever upwards into that dark triangle wherein lays all salvation and damnation. And lo, it lay open for my wandering eye to see (and for anyone else 3 ft. tall). A dark fur softly covered two gently curving labia from which peeked her clit and delicate lips. My beloved’s pussy lay in plain view.

The realization that Tina wasn’t wearing any underwear was processed suddenly and violently as I attempted to sit bolt upright while still underneath the table. A loud “Thud” rocked the table above me and I saw stars. The spilt beer pouring down my back helped immediately clear my vision, though. 

“Yah, UM, Jeez Ow!” I sputtered. “Honey, you might have warned me” I managed weakly at last, rubbing my throbbing head. Tina was leaning over, her head in her hands, sobbing with laughter. Beer was everywhere. I got up to get a towel from the bartender.

“I hope you wet your pants,” I said, sulking.

That only brought on fresh sobs of laughter. “I can’t!”

Oh. Yeah. That’s. Right. The little man who pedals the bicycle inside my head which powers the lightbulb, got back up, dusted his knees off and gave it another go. There, um, was, um, Tina was sure acting funny today. The lightbulb glowed a little brighter. Hurry back with that towel, pilgrim. When I got back, she laid the towel down on the table.

“C’mon, lets dance,” she said softly. Holding my fingers, she led me out onto the dance floor. No, I ‘m no great shakes in the Fred Astaire department, but I lack in style, I make up in effort. I was out there boogeying it up. Tina’s every bump, every wiggle, and every delicious jiggle made my heart beat faster and faster…..a mighty buffalo of love.

The band, seeing the atrocities I was committing on the dance floor, mercifully brought it down a few notches with nice, long, slow song. I reached for Tina and we drew together. I could smell her perfume, mixed with her sweat and that clean catholic scent of soap. I pressed her to me, feeling the strands of her damp hair, which hung down along the back of the neck. Her breasts pressed against my shirt, nipples shoving forward, boring their way into my chest. Deep down, underneath that sensation, I could feel her heart thumping wildly, like a small bird trapped in her chest.

Her hands slid down the small of my back and rested on my hips and we danced and it was so nice. I love, absolutely love the way her brown hair falls off her shoulders. Silky, feathery, the tips brush my fingers and I can sit and run my fingers through her hair for hours. Which she is kind enough to tolerate (will be kind enough to tolerate).

Eventually, we left the bar, and goddamn, I was so horny, the creases in my jeans hurt me as I eased into the front seat. Tina didn’t help matters much; she leaned over and gave me a wet, nasty kiss. Her tongue sliding up against my palate, tasting wonderfully of beer and spit. Her nose bumping mine, we kissed for a few minutes, her wonderful hair tickling my face.

She pulled back and looked at me. She smiled softly and said, “Let’s go home.”

Oh Yeah, chika…chika…..I felt so Ferris Bueller. Keys in the ignition, foot on the gas, “Radar Love” on the radio. Sometimes the right things happen at the right time. We get to her apartment.

She fumbled in her purse for her keys. I came up behind her and placed my hands on her hips. I drew her towards me, and brushing her hair aside, I started kissing her neck, she likes that, but not hickeys. (But I don’t really know that, not really). She inhaled slightly and leaned into me. Kissing me again, her tongue entwining with mine. Raw naked lust roaring through my veins, leaving my knees weak, my stomach clenching. I had to have her now, right now, Judge.

Finally, she got the door open and we half fell, half staggered into her apartment. Giggling, she led me into her home. Pushing her up against the wall, my hands on her breasts, her back, her ass. She dropped her purse, pulling me forward in passionate embrace. We became a kiss. Oh God, the taste of her, the smell of her hair, driving my wild. Pushing me away, she closed the door. She led me to her bedroom and pushed me down.

“Wait here.”

A request, a command, a plea? I waited. Tina went into the bathroom and closed the door. I heard the sound of her urinating and that careful ripping sound that toilet paper makes as you tear it off the roll. The faucet ran, and things clanked and rattled on her sink. I sat on the bedspread, heart in mouth, hands in pockets. My cock a hot uncomfortable bulge in my pants.

She came out of the bathroom and walked over to the bed. Putting her legs around me, she sat on my lap and kissed me. Hard. Tongues lashing and twisting, we fell back across the bed. My hands roved everywhere, her breasts, riding up her skirt, feeling the warm dampness there. 

“Ha,ha,ha” she laughed, “Find something you want?”

“Oh yes” I breathed, “Oh God, yes!”

She looked down at me and smiled. Fingers fumbling, I lifted her shirt and bra off, getting them all tangled in her elbows and arms. At last they came free, exposing her breasts. Her breasts, two points up high and tight. I nuzzled them, the cleft between them, the rock-hard nipples tasting faintly of soap and perfume on my tongue. I lay her back upon the bedspread, and she reached back to unzip her miniskirt. I slowly slid the smooth black fabric of her skirt down a pair of flawless legs. A black triangle of neatly trimmed pubic hair disappearing between her thighs.

Quickly, I stood up to doff my own clothes. There is nothing sexy about an ordinary man stripping. Off comes the jacket and the shirt, then the shoes and pants and the man is left standing there in his socks and underwear. And believe me, you never look so ridiculous as when you are standing there in your socks and underwear. I didn’t bother to remove my socks.

I eased down on the bed next to her, my fingers entwining in hers, kissing her fiercely yet again. Slowly I explored her body, feeling the silkiness of her hair, the curves and angles defining her neck, tasting the warm smooth skin of her neck. Delicately, I stroked her nipples, tiny buds erect and hard beneath my palms. The round softness of her breasts against my wrists. Trailing downward, ever downward, feeling her quicken as I touched her pussy. Gently stroking, fingers parting flesh, probing…invading. Her thighs tightening under my touch. Tina moaned and sighed in pleasure.

I moved to kneel between her thighs, her black curly pubes tickling my nose and face. I tasted her sweet moisture, tongue lapping between the folds and lingering on her clit. Tracing the space between her pussy and rosebud. Eagerly, greed for the pleasure, she gripped my head with both hands. Her thighs squeezing me tightly, she bucked against me groaning in ecstasy, her pelvis rocking as the spasms of her orgasm took hold of her. She relaxed and a few minutes later, yet again her body arched, racked with pleasure. 

Finally I could no longer lick. Plain as that. I sat back and beheld the face of an angel, Tina lay there, all damp and sweaty. She reached up for me and pulling me forward, whispered “Come, I want you inside me.”

Face to face, sharing the taste of her juices on my tongue, I reached down to guide myself inside her, and pushing forward slowly, I eased my rock-hard cock (which desperately needed relief) into her pussy. It felt as though I were encased in warm, slick velvet, the walls of her vagina pressing in all around my cock. As always, I marveled at just how actually hot she felt. Slowly I began thrusting in and out again, all the way in and almost all the way out in long fluid strokes. Tina began moving her hips to match mine and soon she was moaning and sighing as we thrust against each other. Oh yes, this as close to heaven as I’ll ever get, I thought.

Soon, I felt the tingling and the pressure signaling my own release building up. Faster and faster I thrust madly into the welcoming depths of her pussy. And all of a sudden, I noticed that her pussy was making these little fart noises with every thrust and I stopped. She looked up at me, “What?”

We both burst out laughing and I collapsed on top of her.

“It’s not that funny,” she protested between giggles and wrapped her legs tighter around my hips. I got back to business. Soon I felt the rising urge to cum again, inhaling sharply, my thrusts ever wilder, ever deeper as if I was trying to fit more of my self inside of her. 


It Begins. . . .



“Wait,” she said, panting, ‘I’m almost there, just a little more!”

I tried to hold on, tightening my abdominal muscles in a mostly futile attempt not to cum but it was enough and I felt the walls of her pussy clamp down on my cock as she cried out “Ahhhhhhhh, yes, oh yes!” I lost all control and, breathing in great ragged gasps, shot my load of cum deep inside her. All of a sudden, I felt very tender towards her and leaning down, I kissed her softly. 

We lay together a little while, a gloriously sweaty and sticky mess, as I shrank inside of her until her pussy just gripped the head of my cock. Eventually, I pulled out and we lay nestled like spoons, my cock warm and snug between the cheeks of her ass, my resting upon her shoulder. We talked of this and that and drifted off to sleep together.”

“That’s a hell of a story about a hell of a woman it sounds like, boy.” Walter says diplomatically. 

“I’m not finished and this story gets a lot stranger. I do believe that tonight will be a night for much that is strange.” I replied. “As I may have mentioned before, physically none of that ever happened. I have never done so much as shake hands with the woman. This I now know to be sure. I have been to her grave though, at first to convince myself that she was truly dead, but as I lost my hold on reality, to laugh and cry and talk to her. In all truth, all I have ever had was memories of her, of a lifetime spent with her. Of the births of our children, of vacations to the sea shore, of anniversaries and afternoons spent restoring the house we bought together. Such strong memories stretching years all more good than bad.” 

“Trying to reconcile these memories with that of my everyday existence proved futile and in the end I lost it. I became insane and my family arranged for me to enter a mental hospital in Ohio. Diagnosis: acute psychosis and major depression. God only knows what the doctors thought of me, grieving at the loss of a loved one I had never known. I did get better there although it was a long and hard road. For while there, I did come to realize what I was and what my purpose could be, if only I could manage to control myself enough to do it.”

“Yeah?” asks Walter, “Find out that you were meant to be a nutball that climbs into peoples’ cars and kidnaps them at gunpoint, did you?”

“Well, I was a nutball for a while but I am not anymore, I assure you. I know exactly what I am doing, however it might seem to you. I regret that I have caused you distress, but it was necessary and for that I make no apologies.”

“What I found out was that, well, I have become unstuck in time and space. It started as dreams I had while at the hospital. In these dreams, I would fly out far and above where I slept and wander across the countryside, looking in people as they slept or went about their business at night. Unable to control it at first, I would travel randomly, a spirit at the mercy of what winds I knew not. Gradually, over the months, I grew able to control this ability and my nightly journeys grew ever wider. I discovered that the distance I was able to travel was inversely related to the amount of time I could travel into the past. That the farther in distance I went, the more closely to the present I would have to stay. I could not travel forward in time though. I tried but it was as though a great black void opened up around me that I could not pass through.”

“I journeyed to the night of Tina’s fatal accident, and although I couldn’t control precisely when or where I would arrive, I got close enough to see her little Honda Civic swerve on a patch of icy highway, heard the tires squeal, the crump of the steel buckling and the crunching sound of the broken glass. Heard her scream, the snapping sounds as the underbrush gave way. But I could do nothing. I heard her call for help and remained there, disembodied, as those cries grew fainter, as the cold set in. I was there and I watched her die.”

“Jesus Christ, “ says Walter, shaking his head.

“After witnessing this, I took a turn for the worse, becoming so despondent that the doctors upped my medication considerably. It was months before I began to venture out at night once again. But I never returned to that night. To this night. Until now.”

“But I thought that you said you couldn’t take your body with you. That’s what you said.”

“Yep, but Walter, I discovered in rather a terrible way, that I could. It was a night I had ranged clear up to Portland, Maine; farther than I had attempted in quite awhile. I was drifting along the alleys and back porches of a run-down neighborhood, when I heard a man’s and a woman’s voices in heated argument. Curious, I drifted through the wall of the house from which it emanated and became witness to some sort of domestic squabble. She was a wiry little blond thing of mid thirties with a scarred face and he a tall thin muscular man of about the same age. They were arguing about money and the baby and her fucking some other guy. The place reeked of alcohol and the table at the center of the room contained a large overflowing ashtray and the remains of several beers. I watched. The argument escalated, they began throwing things and she surged forward slapping him soundly across the face. Enraged, he grabbed her arms and threw her across the room. She lay sprawled like a limp ragdoll, dazed and a small sound escaped her lips.”

I pause and unscrew the cap of the bottle, taking another drink of the whiskey.

“The man strode across the room and straddling her waist, he reached down and ripped her shirt from her body. She lay there, bare to the waist, a tattoo of a butterfly on one of her small breasts. ‘Noooo, she whimpered, ‘Please don’t hurt me.’”

“’Shut up, shut up, shut up, you bitch, you little fucking whore!’ the man screamed and systematically proceeded to beat the living shit out of her. Punching her in the face, splitting her lips and rebreaking her nose, he punched her in the chest and methodically he worked his way up and down the length of her body. I watched, my eyes wide with horror. No, no, oh god no! I felt sick to my stomach. The man lit a cigarette and cruelly began pressing it into her skin between her breasts between her thighs, the cherry singeing the tips of her nipples, as he continued adding to the scores of similar marks already present on her body. She screamed a horrible animal scream of pain and he slammed her head into the floor again and again. Flipping her over on her stomach, he roughly pulled her pants down around her knees and unbuckled his jeans. He pulled out his cock and lay on top of her. I stood there frozen, paralyzed by shock and terror. A gurgling scream escaped her lips. Indiscriminately he continued to thrust inside of her.” 

“No, I thought, no, this is not right. This must be stopped. Rage, pure and red, surged through me and screaming I ran forth to kick and hit and hurt this man, to make him stop. But what could a ghost do? The first punch passing through his body as ineffectual as a mosquito. The second landing with the same result. Suddenly though, I heard a roaring in my ears and my vision clouded and I felt a great pressure on all sides. When I kicked him, though, it made contact, dislodging him from her and knocking him to the floor. Furiously, I attacked him, screaming, crying “Stop, stop, goddammit, stop!” I punched him in the face and felt his nose dissolve in a spray of blood and teeth. ‘What…who the fuck are you?’ he gasped as we fought. I was a demon in faded plaid institutional pajamas. Driving downward with my knee, I made contact with his chest and felt his ribs crack. The sudden shock of what just happened suddenly hit me and I vomited all over him. He twisted, trying feebly to get away. His breathing labored, he coughed a gurgling bloody cough. The woman only made these small mewling noises but other than remained as she was, pants around her ankles, her ass smeared with blood. I had to get out of there. I felt sick and disoriented. Gagging, I staggered to my feet and ran to the door. Outside, the night air cooling the hot sweat that covered my skin. I was out in front of the house.”

“I had to get out of there away from that awful place. I ran, pausing only to throw up on a neighboring lawn. I was covered with blood and vomit, a fucking mess. I was confused, frightened and alone. What had happened? IT had just happened. I had crossed over physically. My rage, no, vengeance had allowed me. I ran barefoot along the cracked city streets, finally stopping along the bank of a small creak strewn with rusted out junk and old tires. I waded out into the creek and sat down, the cold water soaking through my pajamas instantly. I washed my face and hair and rinsing the vomit from my chest. Wet and dripping, I wandered aimlessly along the streets of Portland, trying to figure out what to do next. I was tired, I was cold and hungry, my mind still reeling from the awful rape I had witnessed and the fact that I actually there at all. I had been in the institution in Ohio for going on two years by then.”

Walter turns to me, his mouth hanging open a little, and he seems about to say something but instead just mutters “Shit” softly and reaches for the bottle. We reach the interstate and he makes a left turn onto the entrance ramp. We pick up speed and head south (to where my beloved will be, I know).

“Eventually the police picked me up as they do with filthy dirty straggling vagrants out for a walk in their pajamas. I told them my name and that I was supposed to be in the Braxton-Biggs mental facility in Cincinnati and who my doctor was. They asked me how I got to Portland and I told them I didn’t know. ‘I don’t know’ became my pat answer for almost all of their questions and eventually they stopped asking. A couple of hours of phone calls and soon the hospital had someone on the way to pick me up. The police fed me and I showered and felt better. They were real nice, and even dressed me in a pair of sneakers, jeans and a T-shirt with a picture of Michael Jordan on it. They never asked me about the man and woman into whose house I had fallen and I do not even now know what became of them. I honestly hope he’s dead, though.”

“The institution sent two men to pick me up and we drove the long miles back to Ohio. They drove in shifts, anxious to deliver their charge without incident and to collect the paid time off they had been promised. I sat silently, gazing out as the hills rolled by, thinking a lot. Then all of a sudden, I understood what I would do. It was as if I had completed a large and complicated jigsaw puzzle and had snapped the last piece in place. There I was standing back looking at the completed picture. One of the men leaned back around in his seat and asked if I was ‘Ok, back there buddy?’ I realized I was laughing and crying out loud. Oh yes sir, I was all right and it was all I could do to not jump up and down and scream for joy. I had figured it out and I made plans the whole rest of the way back.”

“But what was it that you had figured out, boy?” queries Walter, “Did you finally find out that all that stuff was just in your head?”

“No, no…all those memories that I had were real, but they belong to another me, one of many me’s in fact. At any given point in time, the future is only a possible choice of an infinite set of sets of possible number of futures (you get that?). As to which one becomes the past is dependant upon the choices people make as well as a number of other factors including everything from the weather to what the Dow-Jones finished the day before. Somehow, somewhere, when I saw that newscast, some kind of wires got crossed, I don’t really know. I got to experience an entirely different future within a set of futures that were not my own. Yet I remained contained within my own set of possible futures. The overlap was what snapped my mind. I have thought a lot about what could cause something that bizarre to happen. Of all the possibilities, and you may think it’s cheezey, I choose to believe that it was love.”

“Love?” says Walter “ You think that love crossed your wires, drove you insane and gave you the ability to time-travel. Boy, you are the craziest motherfucker, I have ever met.” He shakes his head. “Love.”

“Yep. I have begun to see that love is a real, elemental part of the universe and if love is strong enough it can change things at the most fundamental levels, traversing time, space, and even death. Have you ever watched the movie ‘The Crow’?”

“Yeah, I watched it on cable once, but that’s just a movie. Things just don’t happen like that in real life.”

“Well, I can’t fault you for not believing me. It does sound absolutely ridiculous but it’s the truth. When I got back, the doctors subjected me to an almost endless round of questions. How did I manage to get Portland, Maine that night? What was I doing there? They wanted to know everything. I had prepared some bullshit story and stuck to it so hard that they finally gave up and let it go. By then they were more excited at the progress I was showing. I wanted out of the hospital and so I went through the hoops they place before with a determination I didn’t know I had. Every day, endless hours of therapy, they wanted to be sure, you know, and I exercised, running the hills around the institution’s campus. Every night, I flew high and far, practicing. Getting better. My family was overjoyed and at last the great day came when I walked out through the doors of the Institution into the hot summer sun, never to return. I returned to the city from whence I came and got my old job back, as a night shift paramedic and did my job so well and with such enthusiasm, that all reservations were overcome, call after call.”

“Damn, you’re a paramedic? That figures. That’s one of those high-stress jobs isn’t it? Well, I hate to be the one to break it to you, boy, but you done flipped out again.”

I laugh, “No, right now I’m as sane as I’ll ever be, Walter. Just get me a little further down this highway.”

“All right.” He shrugs his shoulders. “This has got to be the strangest night of my entire life.”

“Well, last night…last night for me will be almost three years from now for you, anyway I was finally ready proceed with the final steps of my plan. I ‘borrowed’ all the supplies I’m going to need from the ambulance, I have a cell-phone and I stole this gun from my father being unable to obtain one myself. You know that they don’t sell guns to ex-mental patients?”

“Is that right? Well, what do you know,” Walter replies sarcastically. “I still don’t get it, won’t they notice that things are gone? Won’t you get in trouble when you get back?”

“I’m not going back. There will be no back for me to go back to. That future will cease to be and a new one will take its place. I’m already dead, Walter, inside. I died the minute I saw her face on television because without my beloved Tina, this future is no future for me. I came back tonight to save her life and in doing so, I become a victim of paradox. I will cease to be. In doing this, I will change the my current possible set of futures for myself with a possible set where I get to spend my life with Tina.”

“But if you die, how will you ever manage to meet her, get married, raise young’uns and all that?”

“Walter, this three years in the past for me. There is another me right here right now too.”

We pass the Brockton Heights exit as Walter digests this. I turn and point up at the overpass as we go by. “Right up there, Walter, six blocks down that street, the other me, rather myself three years ago, is sitting in an ambulance eating a Twinkie and trying to stay warm. I remember that tonight was a slow night. We only went on a couple of calls. Six blocks, Walter, SIX BLOCKS! Oh, hang on….we are almost there. Stay in the left lane and you will avoid the ice that’s coming up…see that, there it is and look over to the right, there’s the woods that she will crash into…now drive on a little ways and let me out. I thank you for taking me here and I’m sorry I involved you in this, but I had no choice. I fucked up and wound up downtown instead of out here where I should have been. I’m still not so good at controlling where and when I jump through time and space physically.”

Walter pulls over to the shoulder. The engine idling, we sit silently for a minute and slowly I get out. “Wait” he says. “Why didn’t you go back and prevent her from ever getting in her car and crashing in the first place? Why does she have to wreck her car?”

I sigh, “She must or else we will never meet. I’m going to call 911 as soon as the accident happens and the other me, the former me will be dispatched to the scene. That is how we meet. I remember it. She asks the former me to look after her cat and I do and I go to hospital to visit her every day and it snowballs from there. I wish that there was some other way, but there isn’t.”

I look at my watch. 4:23 AM. “I must go now, she will be along any minute. Thank you again and remember what I said about love.”

He looks at me a minute and says, softly “God help you, boy, and good luck.”

I close the door and start walking back along the shoulder. The Walter puts the Buick in gear and slowly the car edges forward…and stops. I hear the door open and slam shut. 

“HEY!” he hollers, “Hey! Wait!” His feet make crunching sounds as he hurries to catch up with me. “Wait. You may need some help.”

I nod and smile and manage a whispered “Thank you.” The air is so cold, it stings my eyes and my fingers feel leaden. We walk a short ways back down the highway and go down a small but steep ravine. At the bottom is a fallen tree which we lean against, my backpack heavy against my back. Waiting. The night is silent except for the occasional whooshing as a car goes by. We wait, shivering, and the trees sigh as the wind whistles through them. It is time and the tears begin to run down my face. Destiny hurts.

About a hundred yards further back down the road the low whooshing builds signaling the approach of another car but then suddenly the sound changes, tires squeal and scrabble and lose purchase on the pavement and in seconds, some eighty yards down the road from us, a pair of headlights appear bouncing wildly down the ravine. The underbrush gives way with sharp cracks like gunshots and there is this awful tearing sound as the metal buckles and rends. Glass breaks and we hear a scream shrill and terrified against the night. Already I am running towards the car (towards my beloved) and Walter is close behind me, breathing heavily. “Oh, God” he keeps repeating, “Oh, Jesus”.

I can hear her fast sharp breaths in the stillness that follows as we approach the car. She is still in the driver’s seat, still in her seat belt. The car ticks, a dead thing, the engine already beginning to cool in the cold. It is so cold.

(a view from on high)

The stars glitter brightly like diamonds upon the velvet black of the sky and the moon shines down upon the scene of an accident where a young white man and an old black man struggle to open the driver side door. With a popping sound the door is wrenched slowly outward buckling the front quarter panel as they reach toward the victim, a pretty young woman with dark hair. Blood is running down her face, but her eyes are open. Her face has an eerie glittery sheen from the fragments of windshield sticking to her skin. The young man, professional now, does what he has done for so many so many times before. He bends down gently in front of her, and asks her if she is all right. She starts crying, he listens to her breathing, checks her pulse and has the old man hold her head steady. Fingers pushing, prodding, noting injuries, she has possible fractured ribs on the left side, her left femur is fractured, there are lacerations to her knees and hands and arms and to her face. Tenderness to the abdomen. But her lungs are clear and her pulse is strong. Quickly he pulls the sodium acetate warmer packs, the big ones, from the backpack. Clicking the metal tabs, he activates them and they heat quickly as he places them on her chest, her legs, her lap. Leaving her still strapped securely in her seatbelt he covers her with a blanket, also pulled from the backpack. 




It Begins. . . .



The woman (Tina, my love) is terrified and they try to calm her, assuring her that they will not leave her. With fumbling fingers, the young man pulls a cell-phone from the backpack. It comes to life reassuringly in his hand, the buttons glowing the green of a full charge. He dials 911. He talks briefly with the dispatcher on the other end. They are sending an ambulance, now, the dispatcher reports. He nods. He closes the phone with a snap and it falls to the ground from his fingers. He continues to talk to her, tears streaming down his face. She will live and that’s all that matters. The old man talks to the young woman telling her that it will be all right. The young man tells her that an ambulance is on the way. He leans into the car, his face close to hers, he can smell the greasy iron smell of her blood as he dresses the lacerations to her scalp and arms. He tells her not to try to move. He looks deep into her eyes and smiles. Touches the side of her face with his hand and strokes her hair. He says her name, “Tina.” She raises her eyes to his. “Tina, my b-, Tina you are going to be fine, I know it.” 

“I know it” he repeats.

(Several seconds pass)

In the distance the faint wail of the siren is heard as it approaches the accident and the young man slowly rises to his feet. He steps away from the car and as he starts walking away from the car he puts a hand on the old man’s shoulder. “Take care of her,” he says in a thin whisper, “’til they come.”

The old man nods solemnly and looks down at the woman. He looks back up the ravine at the young man struggling up towards the highway. He realizes that he is able to see right through the young man (indeed only an outline remains) as he reaches the highway waving his arms to flag down the approaching ambulance. A fire truck is close behind. The ambulance, lights flashing, siren wailing, pulls to the side of the road and a spotlight searches the woods until shines upon the wrecked Civic and the old man holding the woman’s head. The two paramedics jump out and after pulling their equipment from the back of the rig, make their way carefully down towards the wreck. The old man looks from one to the other and draws his breath as he sees face of the first. Hands trembling, knees weak, he allows the paramedic to take his hands from her head. He steps back, hands trembling, knees weak. 

“Did…didn’t you see the boy trying to flag you down up there?” he asks the second paramedic, his voice shaking.

“What boy? There was no one there, “ replies the paramedic, his brow wrinkling in puzzlement. “Can you tell me what happened?”

The old man pauses a moment and says, “I hardly know where to begin.”

“Just tell me what you saw.”

The old man paused again, collecting his thoughts, “Well, I was following this woman’s car here and she hit a patch of ice and ran off the road and her car finally came to a stop down here. I had some stuff in my car, it’s my son’s car actually, he’s a paramedic and I brought it down here with me. I had some training as a medic when I was in the Korean War and I just did what I could. Then I called 911 on my cell phone.”

“Well it was a good thing you were here,” says the second medic. “She wouldn’t have lasted too long in this cold.”

“I just did what I could,” the old man says quietly and as the paramedics busy themselves caring for their patient, he bends down to retrieve the backpack lying at his feet. He opens it and under some bandages, he finds the gun, tracing its outline with his fingers. Under the gun he finds two more cell phones. Hands shaking, he zipped up the backpack and placed it over his shoulder. The paramedics and the firemen are already preparing to carry the woman up to the waiting ambulance. Strapped to a backboard, she is carried gently up the slope and placed on a waiting stretcher as the old man follows them up the hill.

“Ma’am, we’re going to be taking you to the hospital, now” says the first paramedic as they lift the stretcher into the ambulance. The old man stares at his face, scarcely believing it. 

“Wait” the woman raise a blood hand from underneath the blankets and places it on the paramedic’s arm. “Wait. Tell those two men thank you for stopping to help me.”

The old man reaches in to the back of the ambulance and places a hand on woman’s foot, “You’re welcome.”

As the firemen close the back doors of the ambulance, he takes hold of one and before they are closed completely, he looks up at the first paramedic, busy with a pair of shears trimming the woman’s coat from her body and says, sternly “Young man!”

The paramedic looks up, “Yes sir?”

“You be sure to take care of that woman’s cat.”

The End.



It Begins



I was young and naive as most of us were back then. Kathy, my older sister by a year and 3 months, was 19 and would start college in the fall. I had just turned 18 in April.

It wasn't the norm for both parents to work back then, but mom started working when Kathy was old enough to baby sit us. So the summers were ours alone.

In the beginning, we got along like any brother and sister. But that began to change as I reached puberty. Things were changing for me fast. Hormones raged, body hair began growing and most of all I had this appendage between my legs that demanded attention constantly.

But it wasn't until quite a bit later that the realization occurred to me that I was living with a beautiful female, albeit my sister.

It started one day when we were each changing to go swimming. I was in my room across from hers and changed into my trunks in seconds. I was impatient to get across the street to our friend's pool and stood outside her door asking if she was ready when I noticed the door open just a crack.

She answered, "Hold on, I'm looking for my other suit. My suit from yesterday is still wet."

My eyes, on their own, peered into the crack to see my sister totally naked with her back mostly toward me, bending over looking in her drawer. The sight of that pale white, soft flesh of her tight rear with the distinct tan lines made me instantly hard. I actually surprised myself with the sudden hard-on and backed off in embarrassment. After all this was my sister! But she was a female, she was good looking and she was NAKED!!

I peeked back in just in time to see her from the side, lifting her leg to step into her bottoms - one leg then the other. From this angle I only got a quick glimpse of what looked like some hair down there. As she pulled up the bottoms, I noticed her breasts. They certainly weren't that big, but they were definitely naked breasts!

I don't remember staring at the nipples as I would today, but the areolas were relatively small and quite pink. The side was outlined again in tan and they seemed larger than I expected leaning down as she was.

I watched almost in awe as she put the top on, adjusted it and checked herself in the mirror, finally adjusting the bottoms once more. I backed off again in embarrassment that my own sister would turn me on to the extent it just did. I quickly stood back by my door just as hers opened.

"Finally" I said as a cover, as she emerged.

That's how it all started. I remember from then on, any time she dressed or undressed, whether to shower, swim, get ready for bed or even once in a while to dress for college in the morning, I was tempted to check her door. It became almost Pavlovian: she would head for somewhere to change and I would get hard.

Well it was bound to happen with my uncontrollable urge to spy on her. One afternoon shortly after all this began, she was changing to swim. There was a slightly bigger crack in the door than usual and I was raging hard just approaching. I peeked in to see her standing holding her bottoms and getting ready to step into them, naked of course with her back to me. I leaned in for a better view and my forehead hit the door lightly, with just a small tap but the door began swinging open some.

I ducked back out of the way but of course I heard her say, "Michael, are you watching me dress?!"

I leaned back and turned my head to make it sound as far away as possible and answered, "No."

There was a delay, apparently to get her top on, and suddenly there she was at the door. She looked more disgusted than angry, and I gave my best innocent look, but I know I was blushing bright red. She simply shook her head and said OK lets go. I felt like a man on death row being given a reprieve. She didn't say a word.

I'll fast forward through all the boring times I spied again, many times unsuccessfully, and move to the next step in this progression. Once more she was dressing for swimming, and once again the door was cracked just slightly more than the original time. 

After that first time being caught I was still hooked on spying on her, but my stomach would knot up both in anticipation of seeing her naked once again, even if it was my sister, and the threat of being caught a second time. I had gotten off easy the first time. I expected her to tell everyone she knows and everyone I know and make my life a living hell. I chalked it up to her forgetting about it.

Speaking objectively, my sister was quite good looking. She had long, dish-water blonde hair down slightly below shoulder length, small slender legs and a petite, very fit body that was in great shape from all the activity she did.

When younger she was a bit of a Tomboy, playing baseball and other sports as well as climbing trees, hiking and we both loved camping. Her face was what today I would describe as a very pretty girl. She got that from our mom, who, if you met her on the street, you might think was a super-model.

But I digress. On this occasion I stepped into the hallway and announced that I was ready.

All she said was "Wow you're quick".

That told me she was still changing and the urge was too much. I peeked in the rather broad crack to the vision of my sister's naked body once more bending over with her rear toward me. As she bent, I could actually see between her semi-parted legs and was treated with a view of both her rear cheeks and a slight glimpse of her pussy lips!

It was all too short however as she pulled up the bottoms and then continued to put her top on with her back to me the whole time. As she tied the bow behind her on her top, I was just about to back off when she said, "I know you're watching Michael."

I looked at the mirror to see her looking directly at me. I hadn't noticed the capability until just then, too late. I jerked back out of view not even knowing what to say. Not answering was an admission and after the delay, it was too late.

I ran into my room and shut the door, embarrassed, frightened and confused. She'd surely tell everyone this time and then probably tell them it wasn't the first time. I just wanted to die.

There was a knock at the door and it opened without me saying a word. I can't really remember what I was doing exactly but I wasn't facing the door. She stood there a second I figured waiting for me to say something. I just said, "What?" without looking her way.

She said, "It's OK, let's go swimming."

I looked at her with my mind whirling. No anger, no threats, no smug 'wait 'til my friend Susan hears this'?

She waved me to come on and headed out of my room. I followed and when I caught up I said looking at my feet as we walked, "Sorry. Please don't tell anyone will you?"

She said, "I won't." She was strangely pleasant. My sister and I became friends that day.

In the living room, just before we were getting ready to go out the door, she stopped and faced me. She said, "Do you think it's OK to spy on someone?"

I had to look away again. This was it: the 'or else'. I mumbled "No."

She swung the door open without saying anything else and we both went out. She was walking a bit ahead of me and just as she reached the curb to begin crossing she said without turning toward me, "You could ask if you want to see me you know."

She never looked back and just walked to the pool and so did I. I couldn't believe what I'd just heard. I wasn't even sure I heard her right and I certainly wasn't going to ask if I heard that right. I figured she already thought I was some sort of pervert wanting to see my own sister naked. I wasn't going to prove it to her.

After swimming we went home to change and mom was home so I was happy to just leave things as they were.

For the next few days, I didn't spy on her. As a matter of fact, I made it a point to leave my room and walk noisily down the hall and from the end of the hall loudly announced "I'm ready when you are. I'll be in the living room."

I put the thought of what she had said out of my mind. How do you ask your sister to strip for you?

After a few times of this, she took a longer time than usual and then came out and stopped me and said, "I noticed you're not spying any more. Thanks"

I just blushed and smiled. She continued, "but..." and she hesitated.

I looked at her questioningly and she was the one blushing now. I said, "What?"

She was stammering around searching for words. I said again, "What?"

She finally said, "Aren't I attractive?"

Now I was the one stammering. I blurted out, "Of course! But... you told me... not to..."

I couldn't finish the sentence. She said, "Well I also said you can ask." Her eyes looked at me, then down, then back up waiting.

I was flabbergasted. I said, "Really... you mean..."

She interrupted and said with a gesture of indifference, "Only if you want."

We both stood there in the living room. I was digesting what she just suggested. Do I dare? I said, "Now?"

She said, "I guess if you want."

I smiled and said, "OK".

She was very uncomfortable and there was a (relatively) long delay. I waited for her to remove something and she waited for me to ask then she said, "What... should I... yo know?"

I wanted her to strip naked and lay on the floor with her legs spread, but trying not to be too obnoxious I decided to begin gently.

"How about your top" I finally said.

She and I were both blushing deeply. This was a very awkward situation, even if it was every guy's dream. My older sister asking me what I wanted her to take off!! Looking down at herself she reached down and instead of untying the top, she just pulled it up over her small but lovely breasts.

Her eyes searched mine for approval. Nothing was said, but I know I must have lit up with excitement. We were maybe four feet apart and she was standing holding up her top with her titties bare pointing them at me. Finally the silence and the immensity of the situation hit me and I uttered, "WOW!!"

With that she covered them immediately and said, "See you just have to ask" and with that turned quickly to head out the door as if nothing had happened.

I followed behind her like a lost puppy with a multitude of thoughts rambling through my head. But the Ice was broken!

As would happen, this occurred on a Friday and everyone was home for the weekend. There were no chances for Kathy and I to be together alone until Monday. But as you might expect, I had some great masturbation sessions in the privacy of my room after going to bed. Kathy had offered to show me anything, or at least that's how I interpreted it. She didn't actually say 'anything' but she did say all I had to do was ask. I had to take her up on that before she changed her mind.

In those masturbation sessions, I wasn't thinking simply that she had showed me her bare chest, but more of what I might do next. Being the naive virgin that I was back then, my ultimate goal was to have her strip totally naked for me. I'd seen her naked, but from a distance through a slit and from mostly awkward angles. I wanted her to present it to me right there in full view!

The simplest thing I could think of to do just then was to follow her into her room when it was time to change and ask if I could watch as she put on the bathing suit instead of spying. She'd have to agree to that.

Monday morning couldn't come quickly enough. In my fantasies, I had planned everything out already - well almost as you'll see. But as I got up in the morning I was raging hard already and I thought the heck with waiting for swim time in the afternoon.

I came out to breakfast in my shorts and T-shirt and she came out in her nightgown and robe as usual. She wasn't a morning person and was in no hurry to dress or get herself started in the morning.

You'll hear me say this many times, but if we all knew then what we know now things would have been so different. Even the looks we remember from back then would have been so transparent to us now. I'm sure when she walked into the kitchen in that robe she should have known exactly what I was thinking. Yet, if she did, it didn't show in the least, at least not to me back then.

There wasn't much conversation as usual. A simple "Morning" sufficed.

I had fantasized all weekend about watching her dress for swimming, yet here I was trying something totally unrehearsed. Watching her walk around a bit I finally blurted out, "What do you have on under that" - not the most subtle of questions.

She looked at me with a look of 'where did that come from?' but only said, "Under what?"

I said, under the robe."

She flipped the robe bottom open without untying the waist and said, "Just my gown, why?"

In what was probably transparent to even her I said, "Nothing. You look nice."

She laughed and said, "So what is it you want?"

Defending my position I said, "Nothing, you do look nice like always... besides you said I should ask."

A slight smile came over her face and her eyes went up in a gesture that a light had come on. "I see" she said.

This wasn't going nearly as smoothly as I had fantasized all weekend, yet I wasn't giving up. The prize was too great. After what I considered an appropriate wait, I said again as I took a bite of cereal, "So what do you have on under that then?"

She smiled knowingly and hesitated. "Just my plain white panties" she said without making an effort to show them as she had the gown.

She was making me work for this and appeared to be enjoying every minute of it. I delayed, building up the nerve for the next question. Why did she have to drag it out of me I wondered. Surely she knows what I'm getting at. Not to be defeated I said, "Can I see them?"

"What, my plain old white panties?" She replied.

I sort of shrugged and said, "Yeah, you said I could..."

But I was interrupted by "ask, yes I know" and she laughed. "You're sure taking advantage of that aren't you" she said.

Embarrassed and blushing I just shoved another spoonful of cereal in my mouth and shrugged.

"Maybe after breakfast" she said.

Yeeeeeeeeees, it worked!!

After breakfast we had to clean up our dishes and wipe down the table and counters. Once done, I sat at the table waiting for Kathy. When she finished, she just headed into the living room and sat down. She was making me work for it again I thought. Or maybe she had changed her mind. She had after all only said MAYBE after breakfast.

I followed her into the other room and sat across from her. She was reading the newspaper, not unusual for her, yet quite unusual for me to follow her in there. Her robe had pulled open but her gown was cautiously covering everything carefully. A bit of time passed and she lowered the paper and looked at me. Again, she was waiting to pull it out of me.

But then when I said nothing she said, "Oh yeah you wanted to see my panties."

With that she set the paper down and simply spread her legs, which pulled the gown up and exposed the gusset of cotton between her legs and she laughed, closing them quickly.

I said, "Aw, that didn't show anything. At least not long enough to see anything."

She stood up then and walked over to me watching me intently the whole way (only a second or two but it seemed intense) and said, "You really want to see cotton panties?"

I didn't answer. Then she turned her back to me and lifted her gown and asked if I could see them well enough.

They were a simple cotton pair, older but no holes or tears, yet they were nice and sheer for cotton. I could barely make out the shadow of her crack there in the morning light shining in. Her cheeks nicely filled out the panties which may have even been a bit too small. As she held the gown up there, I could even see the muscles in her buttocks flex as she shifted.

I answered her saying, "Can I see the front?"

There was a delay. Maybe I'm pushing this too much. I don't want to make her rescind the offer.

But then readjusting the gown she held up so the front was uncovered, she turned around facing me. I could feel her eyes bearing down on me like two heat lamps.

From the front I could clearly see the contours of her tight lower muscles, the curves of her hip bones folding into her mid-section and the soft roundness of the tender mound that must be just a millimeter beneath that material as it curved and folded together down between her legs (that were together).

The worn cotton wasn't enough to hide the crop of hair that I already knew resided there. Either my eyes or my imagination were good enough to notice what I thought was a clump of hair pinned against her there.

Not sure how long she held that pose, but she finally said, "See, white panties."

I mumbled back something like "yeah" but as she lowered her gown still staring at me from some strength within I heard myself say, "Will you pull them down, please?"

Her eyes widened and as if she needed to ask she said, "My panties?"

I was red as a beet by now and simply nodded, for she was too.

She reached up under the gown and pulled them down in a way I couldn't see anything and stepped out of them, holding them up with a guilty smile.

I reached for them and said, "I'll hold them so you have both hands to pull your gown up."

It was the first time in my life I felt I had the upper hand on my older sister. She didn't answer but released her white cotton panties as I grasped them.

She closed her eyes and took the sides of her gown down near the bottom and as if her arms were being raised by some crane from above, she pulled the gown up until it was covering her face.

There was her beautiful womanhood totally exposed right before me ever so close outlined by slender legs below and a smooth flat tummy, unbroken except for a navel that just added to the erotic aura.

"Wow, you are so hot Kathy" was her signal to lower the gown.

Looking directly at me and with a timidity I'd never experienced from my older sister, she said, "Glad you think so Michael."

Then taking her panties from me, she went about her morning chores as did I, after a trip to the bathroom to relieve the throbbing in my own groin. Nothing more was mentioned about the incident.

After lunch however, we decided to go swimming. We were both a bit on edge I think when the time came to change. She headed into her room to change and I followed her closely walking in right behind her, so that as she turned to close her door, there I was.

She said as if the plan was unclear, "I'm going to change, you go get ready."

I said, "I thought maybe you'd let me watch you."

The silence was deafening and her look was unreadable. Even today I don't know what was running through her head, but we stood there undecided and wordless.

Then, without saying yes or no, she backed up still looking my way but almost looking through me in thought. She turned to her bed where her suit was laying and began by taking off her robe.

Her panties lay on the bed as well which meant she had nothing on beneath her gown. She was standing sideways to me and looked at me with a little girl shyness and pulled the gown up above her knees, where she paused. Then with renewed nerve, she whipped it up over her head and began pulling her arms out of each sleeve, giving me plenty of time to view her form unobstructed.

She tossed it on the bed and smiled blushing all the way down to between her breasts. Her neck looked sunburned.

I slowly shook my head and said, "Wow, So hot! I never knew I had such a hot sister" bringing her even more embarrassment.

She was reaching for her bottoms and then turned to step into them when I took her arm and said, "Turn around once slowly for me, please. I want to remember this moment."

Not knowing what to do with her arms, she held them out and taking little steps she slowly rotated 360 degrees giggling occasionally as she turned, arms out like a ballerina, giving me a view of the very first naked female body I'd seen in it's entirety in person in my life. It was also one of the most beautiful that I can remember to this day, but then I'm prejudiced.




It Begins



She quickly then grabbed her bottoms and pulled them up and took her top, wrapping it over her breasts, and as she began to tie it behind her, I said, "Here, let me." After all, tying her top was nothing after just seeing her topless.

She said, "It feels strange having you touch my top."

I said, "Yes to me too... but wonderfully strange."

She just giggled.

I said, "OK let me get ready and we can go. It won't take a second."

I headed out her door thinking she just undressed with me here and her door wide open. As I entered my room, it hit me that she was right behind me! This was something I hadn't figured on. I turned and looked at her blankly.

She just snickered and said, "What? You just watched me."

I sat and took off my shoes and socks then stood and removed my shirt. Then it was time. I had to remove my pants. I realized that I still had a raging hard-on from a few minutes ago and I was wondering how to hide that. Showing her (for the first time) was one thing, but showing it pulsing hard was another.

Well the thought of what had just happened and now getting naked in front of the girl whom I'd just seen wasn't about to let my erection go down so no matter how I delayed it, she was going to see.

I sort of turned toward my bed and pulled my shorts and underpants down together to get it over as quickly as possible, but as I stepped out of the last leg she said, "OK now turn around please."

I was mortified but did as she asked. But when she said, "Oh wow, my little brother isn't so little after all" it lessened a lot of the stress. I wasn't that big - 6" or maybe 6-1/2" but it was fairly fat.

I didn't turn 360 like she did but stood there, unable to look at her, watching my cock pulse to the beat of my heart which was by now thumping so hard I would have thought she could hear it. But then she did say "OK turn around like I did."

I did, glad to take the concentration off my obvious hard-on yet wondering why she'd want to see my butt.

As I turned back around, I did manage to look up at her to find a large smile perched on her face. She asked pointing at my cock, "Did I do that?"

I grinned sheepishly and said, "I guess so."

Then she said I could get dressed. I did in lightning time.

As we walked down the hall heading out to go swim, she said to me, "Thanks Michael" and she squeezed my hand.

I didn't know what to say. I felt I should be thanking her!

If you'd like to hear more of this story, leave comments. It starts off slow, but then when you run a marathon, you don't start off sprinting if you want to finish.



It Begins...



So far it has been one hell of a night! The band was amazing, the sounds, the crowd, and feeling him standing next to me all night, so close and protective. I have already drank more than my share tonight, such a rare occurrence, it has left me feeling very adventurous. All night I have rubbed up against him, 'accidently' I told myself. 

Don't get me wrong, we have been out together before. He has always been my protector, my knight in shining armor. He is the one who gets me home, safe and sound. I have never done anything more than be a tease. I wasn't sure that I even wanted anything more. Between the screaming guitars and one too many drinks, I decided I want to know. I want to know why he has never tried anything, why he has been content to just sit and watch me. 

Was it because he isn't interested in me? I realize I am not beauty queen material, at 5' 8", weighting more than I should at 200lbs., making me quite curvy in the right places. I am okay with all of that, very conscious of it, but I know I have a lot to offer. 

We wait until the room has almost emptied out as it's always easier just to wait and let everyone fight to get out first so we can leave in peace.

"Come on my lady, your chariot awaits." he said with an accent. "Where good sir, is my chariot taking me too?" I like where this is going I'm thinking, I may be able to work in a bit of hinting around see if I can't find out his thoughts, if he ever wants more.

He smiles that wonderfully rakish handsome boy smile "Wherever you would like me to take you. As your protector for the evening, I will take you wherever you want me to." I slowly look up at him and the words are out before I could stop "What if I said I want you to take me to your bed?" 

He never bats an eyelash as he follows up with "You, my dear are not yet ready for me."

Feeling rather gutsy with a few drinks on board, "What do you mean, I am not ready for you?" I reply with a bit more sass than I intend.

"You my dear, are making my case for me" he gave me a devilish grin, grabbed my hand, and pulled me to my feet. "Shall we go now?"

Go, I thought, I want to go alright. You make me insane in two seconds worth of conversation. I can't decide if I want to smack you or kiss you. How you stir me up so quickly I will never know. I think though, that you know, and you do it on purpose. 

It was then, while we are walking toward the exit doors, you place your hand in the small of my back, always so careful always the perfect gentleman, so in control. Why didn't I ever notice that before? What changed today that opened my eyes, to what I might just want more than I have ever wanted anything else?

I let you walk me all the way to the car thinking about how I should ask, what I should ask, what is it that I want? Did I even know?

Dazed in my own world of thinking, I didn't realize that we have already made it to the vehicle. I put my hands on the roof of the car and lean on them. "I had another amazingly great night. Thank you." 

I hear him chuckling as I sense him walk up behind me, then he says "I think maybe someone has had a few too many."

"I did not have that much to drink and you know it!" I growled out as I attempted to turn around, only to realize that I cannot. I can't because he has pinned me to the car, his arms on either side of me. I feel him pressing against me. My body knows, it knows exactly what it wants, as I feel myself relax against him. Instantly on fire, I want to feel him everywhere. I need his hands touching me everywhere at once. Something tells me though, I won't have much choice in what he does or when he does it.

I feel his hot breath against my neck and ear, my body quivers with anticipation. In a low, deep perilous voice "I knew when you had worked up enough courage, and thought you were ready, you would ask me for it."

I couldn't move, not that I would ever want to. I started to speak "I, uhm, I"

"What is the matter baby, cat got your tongue?" he murmured quietly. His warm breath slid against my neck.

I shuddered again, struggling to put all the thoughts I had earlier into words, "No, I just, I can't think."

"Mhmm, I like knowing that you can't think in my presence. I wonder what you might agree to when you can't think?" he said right before I felt his teeth graze my neck, my body giving in as I shudder against him. 

"You have no idea how much I enjoy the effect that I am having on you. I have waited patiently for you to come to me. Why don't you climb into your chariot so I can take you home." He backed away, I missed his form against me, his breath, and his teeth at my neck. I got into the car dazed and confused. I am not sure if we even had a conversation on the way back home. 

"Well, this is your destination." He states as he pulls into my driveway.

I was startled, as the trip home seemed so short. I climb slowly out of the car and head towards the front entrance. When I reach the front door I feel his presence close, strong, all in my personal space. I hear him whisper, again in that deeper tone. "Were you not going to invite me in for a drink tonight, maybe, coffee or dessert?" 

I stand there stunned, hand on the knob, keys in the lock, and I can't say a word. He didn't move and I couldn't, I don't want to, I need him. I feel him step closer, my heart is racing with anticipation that he might want me as much as I want him. His breath on my neck again he whispers, "Or maybe we should continue our conversation from earlier, by the car."

"Oh, Fuck" I whisper, not to him or anyone in particular just in that realm of thoughts that need to be spoken out loud.

His chuckle seems deeper too, this evening, or maybe I am just noticing what a profound effect he is having on me. "If you behave yourself, I just might."

"I, uhm, wow. How did you uhm?" I stumble over my words unable to get them out. I have never had this problem. I feel like he has stolen my ability to put my thoughts to words.

I feel him lean in closer "Shhh, Let me get the door for you." 

As he reaches around me I feel him press against me, his cock straining against his jeans making me realize that he was not joking about wanting me. Behave? My head spins...what does he mean, behave? I have never behaved the whole time we have ever hung out together. Yet I never say a word, I just let it go. I feel his hands on me as he turns the key and pushes the door open.

We go inside and I feel like I am still in a fog. This has to be a dream, I must have fallen asleep in the car. I don't know what to do. I think he senses my dilemma, probably from the blank look I am sure I have on my face. "What would you like first? A drink, or a spanking to snap you out of your haze?" His hand slides down my back to my ass cheek and suddenly I feel a burning in the pit of my stomach. An ache really, bordering on must have or need. I feel my muscles twitch under his hand.

The only word that leaves my mouth is a very breathless "Please..."

He hasn't moved or touched me in any other way. "Are you sure? I won't be asking you again the rest of the night. You will do as I say, when I say, how I say, or I will leave you in the state you are in and we will go back to being 'just' friends."

"Please, I..." 

"Yes, you have always been able to say anything you want. Don't stop now on my account." he chuckled out.

"I have always, always wondered, there are so many things I want to ask, want to know. Please, I will do as you ask." The words were out before I had even thought about what they might mean.

"No more thinking tonight, don't wonder, don't doubt, no questions, I know how you love your questions. This is not about trying to understand, this is about discovering yourself. If this is truly what you want, then going forward, you are MINE!" He growled out the last part right next to my ear, driving his point home with a quick smack on my ass. It drove me absolutely crazy. All I can do is stand there and shake. 

"You seem to be a bit shaken, would you like something to lean against?" he asked.

"Yes, Please." I said.

He grabbed a handful of my hair and bent me over the end of the couch my face is buried against the cushion. "Do you feel more comfortable like this?"

"I, I think so" I mumble, unable to focus at all.

I feel his hand on that same spot, I shuddered again, this time all of me not just my ass cheek. When he drove his hand home, it hurts but it feels so good at the same time. A low moan escaped my lips.

"Mmm, it would appear that you like this. Would you like me to continue?" He asked as if he were offering me something.

"Yes" I manage to whisper between my clenched teeth.

The sudden loudness of his voice rocks me to my core. "Excuse you?"

I don't know what to say, I tried to look at him but his hand was deliciously wrapped in my hair holding me, so tight I begin to stammer. "I, I, you, uhm. Please. Yes, Sir."

I could hear the grin spread across his face when he spoke. "Ah-ha, you learn quickly. Good girl."

I feel him drag his nails along that sweet spot where the ass meets the thigh. I can't help it, I feel myself raise my ass. "My, My, My, someone does seem to like this. Get up." I feel him jerk on my hair and grab my arm to steady me. Always careful, always in control, that thought runs through my head again. He is guiding me to the bedroom. I feel like I am floating, not a single thought in the world entering my brain except, I hope I please him. 

"Going forward, Sir or Master should follow or begin each time you speak. Right now you need to strip, everything goes." He said the last as he stepped away to give me room to undress.

I am petrified, I haven't been naked in front of someone in a very long time. As usual he knows when I start to think about something. "In 3, 2, 1, start striping..." I see him look at the door. No way in hell I am going to let him walk out of it. Immediately I begin ripping off clothing, I watch him turn with a grin on his face recomposing himself from my frenzied act.

'Naked as jaybird' the saying goes, I stand there unsure of what to do. I clear my throat to speak the exact moment he turns to face me. "Master, I..."

"Shhh, you are doing so well. Why you worry about how you look, is beyond me. You have a strong frame, all the better for me to pound into because I know you can take it. Large, beautiful shaped breasts, tight little nipples with the perfect piercings. Long, sturdy legs, and an ass, oh an ass that is begging for me to smack it." I hear the words but am so stunned by his description and what I think when I look in the mirror I almost, almost asked a question.

"I see what you are doing. If one question comes out of that mouth I will gag you. Do you understand?"

Scared to death to be silenced, I nod. "Yes, Master"

"You look terrified, do I scare you?"

"Yes, I mean no, Master, I, you don't scare me I trust you. I am terrified of what I want, of losing control, of letting go, of feeling and..." My mind is in full hum, to say or not to say, what the hell, I am going for broke. I am already standing here naked, the worst he can do is walk out. "...And, I am afraid to lose you."

"Lose me, where do you think I would go? Do you think I have held your hand through your ups and downs all this time, just to walk out on you now? I know it has happened before, with others, it will not with me."

I don't know if my next move is within the realm of whatever, but at that moment I needed him more than anything and flew into his arms almost knocking him down. Kissing him square on the mouth, my hands all over him. I feel him move me, not realizing the error of my ways as he knee sweeps me onto the bed. He gives me that cocky grin that I can't resist. "I will let that one slide but in the future, please remember I am the one in charge."

"Yes, Master." I giggle a bit then stretch out feeling really relaxed and at peace. Something I haven't felt in a long time. Of course while I am laying there reveling in my peace and serenity he has pulled handcuffs out from somewhere. It isn't until he locks the first one around my wrist securing me to one part of the bed that I realize what he is doing. "Hey, wait a minute..." then I see the look in his eyes. Dark, pure sexual predator, I don't protest, I don't complain, I don't even know if I am breathing at this point. I stretch my other arm out silently pleading, "please lock it up too." His eyes catch mine as he clicks it into place. Melting me with his stare, I know he wants me to spread my legs, really, who am I to argue with him? I want it, I need it, at this point I would beg him for it.

Slowly I spread my legs wide but he doesn't seem to be in a real hurry to complete my lock up. He runs his fingers slowly down my arms, it tickles, it feels good, how can that possibly turn me on. Maybe it is him staring at me with an intense look in his eyes while he is stroking my arms. I start to close my eyes to enjoy it when he clears his throat and looks at me. He doesn't have to speak. I know he wants me to stay in eye contact with him. It is making me crazy to have him watch me like this, have him look at me like he would like to make a meal out of me. 

His hands are moving to my neck he lifts my head and gently pulls my hair out so I am not laying on it. A small gesture, which means the world to me. I feel his nails on my shoulders running up my neck. I can't stop my body from quivering under his touch. Slowly his hands make it to the top of my breasts. I feel them drift down the sides causing me to giggle and yet make my nipples even harder as he runs his fingers closer. Slowly with his index finger he makes the smallest of movements, as he starts at the outside of my areola and works is way in a circular motion till his finger comes in contact with my barbells. Tink, Tink, Tink, as his nail clicks against them. Every click of his nail makes me arch up, silently begging for more. I gasp as I feel his tongue lick my hard nipple my eyes looking at what he is doing. Teasing it, like he has all the time in the world. I look up from his mouth to his eyes just as I feel his teeth sink into me. I try to move against him begging him with my body that I need more, so much more. I need him in me. "Please, Please Sir."

"Oh no, that was the point of restraining you. I am allowed to take my time. Tease you in the ways I have thought about for a long, long time. I plan on enjoying you for hours." 

How can I object, I told him anything and everything. How can I stand hours of this? "Yours, all yours Master."

His teeth sink into my nipple again as his hands run down my body, exploring, teasing, making my skin come alive. All I can do is watch and enjoy every touch, lick, bite and suck that he does to my flesh. My orgasm builds the more he stimulates me. I need to feel him. I start to shake as the onslaught continues. 

"Have you ever cum from nipple stimulation?" he inquires.

"No, No, I haven't, Master"

"We will have to try that another day," he states as his hands continue to explore my flesh. Rubbing, stroking, pinching, flicking, or raking his nails down my body depending on his mood, his desire.

I am shaking, as I begin pleading and begging. "Please, Master please, I need to cum...please..." 

"Ahh, my sweet, I haven't even begun to tease you," he says, as he continues kissing down my stomach. All the while looking at me, I am unable to tear my eyes from his as I feel his hot breath caress my swollen, wet cunt lips. "Mmm, you smell delicious." 

Unable to control myself, I strain against my bonds trying to reach him. "Please...please" begging with raw need. "Please I need to cum, please Master."

"No, not yet you don't." I feel his finger trace along the outside of my lips. "That's it, feel it, you know you want me to do this and more" I twitch trying not to cum yet pushing against his finger in the hopes that he will put it in me to ease my need.

Slow, gentle strokes is all he gives me. All around the clit, dipping back down, inserting his finger just enough to get it moist. Then back up again rubbing around my clit. His two fingers slide on each side of it as he reaches out with his tongue and flicks it. I buck and arch against him unable to help myself. He pushes me down holding me in place as he begins to devour me. Licking, sucking, biting, and me, begging the whole time "please, please let me cum please! Master, Please, Please." I am so close my whole body feels tight and ready to snap. "Oh god...Please!"

He continues to bring me right to the edge time and time again. Bucking and shoving my hips at him in a silent plea, begging, needing, and him still denying me. He is watching me break, feeling it in my body, hearing it in my moans. Once again he brings me to that edge, stopping, long enough to look at me. He says one word, "Cum." Then leans down and sucks my clit hard, back into his mouth teeth barely nipping it, my body releases. A low guttural growl vibrates through my body and I explode. Feeling him suck harder on my clit, wrenching out the most intense orgasm I had ever had. Slowly he begins to lick me from the bottom of my cunt to the clit as I continue to spasm against him. The emotional release is almost as strong as the physical.

"We will have time for more teasing later...right now I need to be buried deep into what is MINE," he growls out. I feel him thrust deeply into me. My body is clamping down tightly on him, twitching, so close to cuming again. I open my mouth to ask, as his mouth descends on mine. I taste myself on his lips. Closing my eyes, I lose myself, feeling his breath on my neck asking me, "What are you?"

"Yours," I whisper.

"My what?" he growls with force.

My mind is racing word...word what word...ahhh, "Your slut, Master"

"Mmm...yes, that's my girl, my slut. You want to cum, don't you, slut?"

"Yes, God yes, Master please, please let me cum," I beg.

"Can you wait?" he asks, as he slams into me again pulling me closer. Feeling me clench tighter he knows how close I am. "You can't can you?"

"I... please... please, oh fuck, fuck, please...now please," I beg.

"I will count to 20 and you hold on as long as you can. You can cum between 0 and 20, but for every number short of twenty I will owe you a spanking. Cum at 15 you get five spankings. Do you understand?"

"Oh God, oh God....oh. "

"Whose?" he demands.

"Masters!" I respond.

"One," he groans as I scream trying to hold back.

"Two," he thrusts deep again.

"Oh fuck, fuck, fuck..oh."

"You want it harder slut? Three!" he says, as he slams it home.

"Fuck" I scream. 

"Four, harder, just as you wished," he chuckled, knowing it won't be long because my whole body feels like it has risen 10 degrees and is shaking uncontrollably now.

"I....oh...fuck, fuck, fuck, I....YES!" I scream. 

"Five! That's right cum for me, let go and cum for me, give in all the way."

As soon as he said 'cum for me' my whole body tensed, he can feel it, senses it, knows I am right there on the edge. I am growling through my clenched teeth trying so hard to hold on, I want to please you. Show you that I can hold on.

I hear him say "let go now...cum for me." coaxing it out of me. I can't stop it, I need this, my whole body feels it. 

He growls out. "LOOK AT ME, NOW!" my eyes find his and once more "give it to me, cum for me," between staring in his eyes and his last 'cum for me', my whole body screams out its release. I clamp down so hard he can barely slide in and out with his thrust. I feel his hand slide up to my neck as he continues to fuck me through my orgasm, spurring me on to the next one.

"Don't you stop cuming," his hands tighten on my throat his thrusts harder, I feel him squeezing my throat tighter my body throbbing as another orgasm is ripping through me. 





It Begins...



"That's right, let go again." I hear.

Utter surrender, my eyes close, spasm after spasm, orgasms rip through me like rapid fire. I feel him pulse, harden, and thicken inside me as he gets closer to his. He gives me one last squeeze on my throat, suddenly he lets go, the blood rushes through. "Holy fuck!" I mutter almost incoherently, as the strongest orgasm yet rips through me, just in time for him to explode inside me making it all that much more intense.

I let go...ride the wave of pleasure as it continues through me. I feel him shift and lay down on me still inside me, whispering "All Fucking Mine, don't you forget it, Mine!"

"Yours" I murmur as I finish drifting off, safe within his arms ...."All yours."



It Begins and Ends with a Sigh



She collapsed on the king sized bed with a sigh and began tugging at her remaining clothes.  The box fan in the window was doing little to cut through the August heat wave.  It was the kind of heat that went all the way to your core; working its way inside you making you restless. She removed her bra, leaned back against the pillows and lazily began caressing her aching breasts, feeling her nipples tighten as she gently traced circles around them with her fingertips. 

 In the other room she could hear him turn on the shower.  She smiled softly at the familiar sound of him humming to himself as he stepped under the stream of water.  She let her hands slide down her stomach, parting her legs slightly to accommodate a hand between her thighs.  She stroked herself over her panties, feeling her moist heat through the lace.  She worked her index finger under the elastic; her fingers quickly found the button of flesh and began teasing the tip.  As she felt the warmth begin to spread through her belly, she got an idea that put a bigger smile on her face.  

As she listened to the sound of him closing the shower curtain, she slipped off her panties and began walking toward the bathroom.  Sweet smelling steam greeted her nostrils when she opened the door.  Still smiling, she pushed back the shower curtain and stepped in behind him.  She slipped her arms around his waist and rested her forehead against his back.  The smell of his damp flesh made her pulse quicken.  He never wore cologne and yet the scent of him had a dizzying affect on her.  It was a heady combination of clean, ivory soap, warm sun drenched skin, and the woodsy, mossy scent of the forest.  She rubbed her hands up and down his firm, soap slippery stomach and chest as she kissed and licked water droplets from his back.  He moaned appreciatively, and with that encouragement she began to use her tongue to massage his spine, using teasing yet firm circular motions as she worked her way lower.  When she reached his muscular buttocks, she playfully nipped a cheek, and then massaged both cheeks with her hands before she kissed her way softly back up his spine.  When her mouth reached the base of his neck, he spun around to face her.  She stared up at his tawny brown eyes as she brought their wet, naked bodies closer to each other, savoring his warmth.  She could feel his hardness pressed against her as his rough hands stroked her lower back and squeezed her bottom; her body instantly responded; she could feel the wetness between her thighs at his touch.

 They smiled at each other, and he brought his mouth down to meet hers and kissed her deeply.  She brought one hand up to stroke his hair as she slung one leg around his brawny hip, rubbing herself against his erection.  She moaned, aching to take him deep inside of her.  Instead, he used his hands to spin her around so that her back was facing him and her front was in the hot stream of water from the shower.  He soaped up his hands and slipped them up and down over her breasts and belly.  He slid his hands up and cupped her breasts, feeling their weight in his hands.  She arched her back against him as he squeezed her breasts with both hands and teased her nipples between his thumb and forefinger.  Leaving one hand to fondle her breasts, his other hand roamed slowly downward, fingers brushing past the damp tangle of hair between her thighs to part her slick, wet lips, teasing her swollen clitoris lightly with his fingertips as she cried out and parted her legs, wanting more.  He applied more pressure and began massaging her in slow circular motions with his fingertips.  He quickened his rhythm and began rubbing the tip. She found herself begging him not to stop.  He knew exactly how to touch her to send her over the edge, and soon she could feel her body tensing before waves of pleasure washed over her.  

Her legs felt weak, and she leaned against his body for strength.  She could feel his hardness against her and she longed to taste him.  She arched her neck back and kissed his lips.  “I want you in my mouth”, she whispered in his ear between kisses.   Wrapping her hand around his girth, she felt him twitch at her touch. She stroked her hand up and down his shaft, enjoying the velvety feel of his flesh; then knelt down in the shower and gazed at his member with a sigh of appreciation.  He did have a delicious looking cock.  Rock hard and perfectly proportioned.  Noticing the droplets of moisture that had formed on his head, she leaned in to gently lick them off.  She loved how wet he got.  Still grasping him with her hand she took him in her mouth, the salty, sweet taste of him making her feel a familiar tingle between her thighs. Even though he had pleasured her only moments before, she could feel her excitement mounting. The warmth of her mouth on him made him moan.  Hungry for him, she tried to take all of him in her mouth at once, but was unable to.  Moaning with him still in her mouth, she began working her hand up and down him while she sucked him and teased the underside of his shaft with her eager tongue.  Her muffled moans echoed his as her heart began to quicken.  She wanted to taste him as he exploded in her mouth, but she also wanted to take her time and savor every inch of him.  

Slowly, she pulled her mouth off him, and began swirling her tongue around his swollen head while her hand slipped up and down his shaft.  Quickening the pace with her hand, she began using her tongue on the underside of his shaft.  She reached back and stroked his balls lovingly, they felt heavy and full; she brought her mouth to them licking the smooth skin, kissing them and gently taking them in her mouth. Taking the length of him back into her mouth, she began to suck him harder as her hand gently stroked his sack.  Quickening her pace, she began sucking furiously as her hand squeezed his shaft and pumped him in perfect rhythm with her mouth. After a few moments, she could feel him swell even more in her mouth, moaning as his breath grew ragged. She could feel herself getting wetter in anticipation.  At this point she didn’t know who craved his release more, her or him.  She released another deep moan with him still inside her mouth. This seemed to send him over the brink and she felt her mouth being filled with bursts of his sweet, salty nectar.  Eagerly, she tried to swallow it all as he came, but there was too much and she could feel it hot on the back of her throat and a small bit escaping her mouth.  When he was spent, she gently withdrew her mouth and gave his member a soft kiss goodbye.  Until next time.  

Standing up, she reached behind him to grab the soap, kissing him as she leaned in close.  She used the bar of soap to create lather between her palms then proceeded to soap his body, lovingly rubbing his muscles with her hands.  When she was satisfied with her work, she removed the shower head from its silvery holder and turned the dial to the “Massage” setting.  She used the warm stream of pulsating water to rinse every inch of his glorious body. 


Taking him by the hand she led him out of the shower and into the bedroom.  They collapsed together on the bed with him on top of her.  The weight of his shower warm body on top of hers felt heavenly.  He kissed her lips, her neck, her hardened pink nipples, working his way tenderly down her body.  When she felt his hot breath between her legs, it made her shudder.  He brought his mouth down on her most sensitive spot.  The feel of his mouth gently sucking her and teasing her made her gasp.  God, he was good at that.  He slid his finger inside her; the added sensation made her arch her back as she pushed her pelvis toward his hand.  Soon, the swirling of his tongue and the rhythmic motion of his finger had the pleasure building inside of her until she felt herself exploding in pulsating bliss, her body tightening and contracting around his finger.  When she was finished, he gently blew on her, sending little shivers down her spine.  

Completely spent and unable to move, it felt like her body was sinking down into the softness of the bed.  Sensing her fatigue, he covered her damp, naked body with a blanket and settled down next to her.  She rested her head on his shoulders as she drifted off, her body still tingling.