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Midsummer-Night's Dreaming Ch. 02

By: CalLorenson



This is the second story about the adventures of Puck the Fairy in today's world. The first story related the happenstance of his return from a long exile, but now that he's back, I thought I would relate another tale as told to me by the Bawd of Stratford (that other guy you might be thinking of was before my time). It's a long, involved romance, but doesn't all romance lead to good things in the end? Thanks to RexBrookdale for help with the editing. 

*

Jake held Anna's head as he thrust his cock into her mouth. Faster and faster he pumped as his excitement mounted, punctuating each thrust with those little 'unh, unh, unh!' grunts that Anna found so annoying. He gripped her head, his hands pushing himself in as deeply as he could, but fortunately his cock was relatively small and it stopped just short of choking her.

Her thoughts ranged back to her last boy friend, Terry. Or, had he been the one before that? Anyway, Terry too had liked to use his hands while he jammed his cock down her throat. She'd warned him about going too deep, but one night in the heat of passion, he'd lost control. He had managed to get his cock to spew, but his small spurts were lost amongst Anna's spew after his cock triggered her gag reflex. In fact ... now that she thought about it, that disaster marked the last time she had been with Terry. "Hmmmm," she accidently hummed out loud around Jake's cock in her momentary perplexity about Terry.

Jake stiffened and gave one more deep thrust as he came. Now fully alert and focused again on the present, Anna closed her throat in time and managed to keep the first squirt of cum from gagging her. She felt a second and third spurt, and then there was no more. "Another successful blow job," she silently congratulated herself.

After several more slow strokes, Jake pulled his cock from her mouth and stretched his arms over his head. He gave a big sigh. "Oh, babe! You do good work."

Anna smiled up at him from where she knelt on the floor. "Good. I'm glad you liked it." She stood up and moved over to sit down on the edge of the bed. Letting her legs splay apart, she displayed her sex to him. With her right hand she stroked between her legs. Jake wasn't much for foreplay, but giving a good blowjob always left her aroused. "Now, what about me?"

"Aw hey, babe. I'd love to. I really would. But, you knew da' Bears are playing tonight, and now it's almost time for the kickoff."

Yeah. She knew, but she'd hoped the thought of some good sex would distract him enough so she could at least have some fun too. She sighed. Well, it wouldn't be the first time.

Picking up her robe, she watched as he pulled on his boxers and his old Chicago sweatshirt. Jake believed in dressing up for his team. She shrugged into the robe as he hustled out the door. She could always count on him being in a hurry for football.

She sat back down on the bed and waited for the sound of the TV to come on. Jake would be glued to the set for at least three hours except for breaks to get beer. Those, plus the breaks he took to get rid of his previous beer.

Settling back against the pillows, her hand drifted down and found the opening in her robe. Well, if Jake wouldn't do the job, she could at least make herself feel good.

** * * * *

A noise startled her awake. At least, she thought it was a noise. Had she really heard.... What had she heard? She lay there in the dark and listened closely. She could still hear the faint murmur of the TV. Had Jake fallen asleep in front of it again? Noises of that sort would not have awakened her, however.

Suddenly she recognized the scrape of a chair being pushed across the vinyl kitchen floor, followed a scant second later by a low, rumbling, growling sound. A primal fear gripped her heart. The sensory stimuli in her subconscious brain, honed by eons of evolution, responded to the sound of a predator. She had just filled her lungs and was about to scream, when another scream upstaged hers.

"Jesus Christ, a mother-fuckin' mountain lion!! Stay the hell away from me, you mother-fucker!"

Anna was frightened, but even as she felt prickles of fear coursing down her arms, her mind conjured an image of Jake, his modest paunch supported by skinny legs sticking out of his navy and burnt-orange boxers, trying to fend off the animal with a kitchen chair. Jake the lion tamer.

She heard more crashing and banging from the other room, but couldn't summon the courage to even get under the bed or flee to the closet. Instead she cowered under the covers. Finally she heard the front door open and slam shut. 

Then it opened again. 

"Some joke, bitch," Jake yelled. "You can stay in this mother-fuckin' apartment with your mother-fuckin' pets -- " his rant was interrupted by a roar and the sound of the door re-slamming shut. The next moment, she heard the latch turn again. "And just see if I ever come over to show you a mother-fuckin' good time again." What Jake's vocabulary may have lacked in variety, he made up for in feeling. 

This time, the sound of the door as it slammed held a note of finality.

It took a minute before she'd finally caught her breath. Jake was out the door and safe, but what about her? Her bedroom door was only shut partway, and there was a mountain lion in her apartment. A mountain lion? In New York? She'd heard the roar, and Jake had evidently seen the animal, but despite all of the evidence it didn't make it any more believable.

A faint wisp of sound came from just outside her bedroom door. The barest brush of ... fur? The door creaked open a fraction of an inch.

"Hello?" she ventured. "Nice kitty. You don't want anything to do with me, do you?" She felt stupid talking to a wild animal like it could understand, but at the moment she was woefully short of good ideas. She heard a tiny answering "Meow," and the door eased open, revealing a small cat's head near the bottom corner. The door made a faint creak as her cat pushed on through. "Mr. Peanut? What are you doing? I mean, what was going on...?" 

All semblance of rational thought vanished once her gaze rested on the small figure of a man astride the back of her cat, the pencil he carried under his arm pointing forward like a lance. He gave a jaunty wave as the cat padded into the room, then dismounted with a nimble hop. He swept off his hat, stood the butt of his 'lance' on the ground, and bowed low, leaning on it as would a medieval knight arriving triumphant from campaign. 

"Puck? Is that you?"

"Who else would it be, fair Anna? Yet it has been so long since we last talked, I am surprised you still remember me."

"I was in, what? In.... Fifth grade, or something? I remember, but I'd always thought you were something I'd imagined." She had done a lot of imagining in those days. Living inside her own head had been easier than coping with real life.

Puck scratched his head. "I believe you had stated eleven as your age."

"Yeah, fifth grade. And now you're back to ... do what? Play tricks on me?"

"No, no, no, fair lady. Old Puck is a trickster, right enough, but you saved me, and for that I am ever in your debt. I explained all that when you freed me."

"I sort of remember you saying something about your 'duty to be of service to me', but I know a lot more about you now. After I met you, I started looking up stories about you."

"As a creature of 'myth' — big-people's myth, I might add — that is all that you will find about me. Stories. I recommend the Bard's. His was one of the funniest."

"Yeah, we read A Midsummer Night's Dream in junior high. I got a B on the test because I kept getting Shakespeare's story confused with stuff you told me. Thanks a lot."

Puck smiled. He laid the pencil aside and came over to the side of the bed. Effortlessly he hopped up to where she lay, followed a moment later by the cat. "Maybe you should have made up some stories of your own. That would at least have been more fun." He did a little cartwheel and flopped down on the bed.

Mr. Peanut settled up against her thigh. Anna could feel his warm body through the light blanket covering her. He looked up at her hopefully and gave two purrs, a clear signal for a head scratch.

Anna, however, ignored him and continued talking to Puck. "So ... what brings you to New York, Puck?" 

The cat gave up, laid his head down with a quiet sigh, and closed his eyes.

"You, you, and you!" Puck gave a tinkling little laugh and skipped up to sit beside the pillow she'd clutched to her middle. "It is time for me to repay you for freeing me from that trap of cold iron. I am sorry I took so long, but now I have a gift truly worthy of your good deed."

"Oh, pooh. It was just an old coon trap." She shifted to sit up against the headboard. 

Mr. Peanut looked up at her with reproach when she'd moved her leg away; with utmost grace he stood, took a step closer, and plopped down firmly against her leg again. 

Anna leaned on the pillow closer to Puck. "So what did you bring me?"

Puck made a dismissive gesture. "I bring not material goods, my lady. No, for you I bring the gift of love. True love."

"I had a love," she said disgustedly. "You chased him off."

"Mr. Peanut chased him off. I just helped a little. Besides that, this 'Jake' person was not your true love. No! But I have found the love of your life: a handsome, successful, man of the world." This last was spoken with an Elizabethan flourish worthy of the stage at the Globe.

"Fancy that," she replied skeptically. "Nope. No man like that would ever be the love of my life. He would take one look at me and leave."

Puck frowned. "Fair Anna, it upsets me to hear you speak so. You are a rare beauty. The deep pool of your love will bring such joy to his life."

"I wish. I'm a tall, skinny, freak. My nose is too small, my cheekbones are too high, my eyes bug out, and my hair never lays flat. My mother was right. I should be thankful for any man who looks my way."

"Anna, Anna, Anna," Puck sighed. "I have heard your mother berate you over the years and never understood it. Was she so unhappy over her own failure with your father that she had to bring you down, too?" He shook his head. "I have never been able to apprehend why you big folk work so hard to make each other unhappy."

She was startled to hear Puck say he had seen her and her mother. "You've been spying on me all this time?"

"Since my quest was to find and give you the gift of true love, I had to see what kind of woman you were going to grow into." He looked up at her, and his expression brightened. "I cannot wait for him to meet you."

"Okay, so you've got some guy all lined up for me, but he'll take one look at 'Ugly Anna' here, and be on his way."

Puck raised himself to full height, his small face inches away from hers. "I can see this is going to take work. I knew he had some obstacles, but I expected you to be more receptive. Hmmmmmm." Releasing her from his gaze, he retreated to the edge of a pillow and sat down on it, tapping his finger on the side of his head in thought.

Anna snorted. "He has some obstacles? What ... like a girlfriend? Ohoho, even better. Why don't you send your mountain lion over to eat her or something?"

He smiled. "What mountain lion? There is no mountain lion. I just work with whatever comes to hand." Puck looked back at Mr. Peanut, who had chosen that moment to exemplify the epitome of ferocious Felis domesticus with a long, luxurious cat stretch. Sitting back on his haunches, he yawned in her direction, and suddenly Anna was looking into the gaping maw of a huge cat.

Startled, she jerked back, but even as the bed rocked and Mr. Peanut almost abandoned ship, Puck never flinched from his deep contemplation. "Yes, this could be a challenge," he mused aloud, stroking his chin. "Yet, my debt must be paid," he said chivalrously. He tapped his finger reflectively against his cheek for a long moment. "You worry that the love of your life will not see your beauty," he concluded.

"See my beauty? I look about as pretty as the backside of a bulldog. He'd have to be blind as a bat."

Puck frowned and shook his head. "So little confidence. So little pride." He furrowed his brow, then perked up and held up his index finger. "Wait one moment, beautiful Anna."

Anna saw him turn and vanish into thin air, only to reappear a moment later holding a sort of paper envelope in his hand. "Beautiflora blossoms." He held them up proudly. "I had to go all the way to a fjord in northern Norway to find them this time of year, but they are just what you need."

Dubious yet curious, she took the proffered envelope, opened the flap, and spied a number of small, pink flowers inside. Each had five petals. They were pretty — in a flowery sort of way. She poked one tentatively with a finger. "Magic flowers?"

"Nonsense," he replied with a cryptic smile. "Everyone knows there is no such thing as magic. Eat one of those each morning, and you won't have to think about your beauty for all the day."

"Just like everyone knows there's no such thing as fairies, right."

"Anna." Puck shook his head, rolling his eyes in mock-despair. "I must take my leave now, but just remember, I do this to make you happy." With a nod and a slight bow, he turned on his heel, skipped over the covers to the edge of the bed, and hopped off. She'd expected to see his retreating form as he crossed the room heading for the door, but after his leap there was neither sight nor sound of the little fairy. 

Anna took a deep breath followed by a yawn, and looked down at Mr. Peanut nestled up beside her. What had happened here tonight? Her memory of recent history was all perfectly clear, but it was clearly impossible. She lay back against the pillows and almost laughed at herself. Fairy stories? For a long time she pondered the absurd events which had taken place all within the span of a few minutes, trying to build some rational explanation. Her fingers fiddled with the little paper envelope containing the flowers. Which was more unbelievable: that she had been talking to Puck the fairy, or that she would find the love of her life?

But before she could come to any satisfactory conclusion, she had drifted off to sleep.

** * * * *

Anna was busy at her desk at A-B-C Publishing the next morning, working on a collaborative ad project with a looming deadline when Tyler Bancroft, the 'B' in A-B-C Publishing, poked his head into her office. "Ms. Kistner, could I borrow you for a few minutes? We have a project we'd like you to get involved in."

"Yes, sir. With you in one." You didn't say no to the boss. Besides, she had things well in hand. The American Booksellers Association's annual BookExpo in Chicago was a month away, and she was ahead of schedule, already finalizing the details on her assignments for it. She quickly checked her work and updated her status, then logged off. As soon as her connection logged out she headed for Bancroft's corner office, down the hallway of cubicles. She walked along oblivious to the usual muted murmur of the office around her as she puzzled over what the new project might entail. 

Bancroft was never one for idle chit-chat, and plunged right in. "Since you did such a good job organizing the promotion for the book Harold and the Rumbly, Bumbly Tummy, we'd like you to work with Gerhard Muntz on the promotion of his latest book of world photos."

"Muntz?" she echoed weakly.

"You remember him. He was at the big A-B-C Authors reception we had back in January. He did the slide show on women victims of violence in the Middle East. The guy who was shot at by the Saudi prince?"

She remembered. And gulped. Oh, how she remembered. Conjuring up images of his chiseled good looks was part of her favorite masturbatory fantasies. "Uh, yes sir," she managed.

"Good. We're planning two editions of his latest collection. One will be a regular coffee table format we'll put in all the stores, but we think a special price-plus collector's edition with hand-signed prints could give us some frosting on the cake." Bancroft looked across at her as he tapped on his computer keyboard. "He lives here in New York, and I just emailed you his contact information. I want you to start working with him right away on a marketing campaign for the BookExpo."

The prospect of working with Gerhard Muntz terrified her. She'd only seen him from afar, never up close and ... personal. He was so good looking, and now she was to be responsible for making his latest work successful. She would end up slobbering all over him, whereas he would take one look at her and.... "I'm really not sure I know that much about marketing collector's editions," she interjected, lamely trying to find a graceful way to actually tell the boss 'no'.

"Well, see there's the beauty of it," Bancroft explained, unusually patient. "Nobody else around here does, either. We don't do collector's editions very often. The last one was seven years ago, and the person who handled the account is long gone. No," he held up a hand to stop her when she started to interrupt again, "I've been watching you, Anna, and I think you have what it takes." He picked up a pen from the desk and tapped it idly on the desk, then used it as a pointer to emphasize his next words. "We're going after a small, targeted group, but marketing is marketing. We'll set up a special suite in the hotel where you will make presentations to groups of booksellers who cater to the collector trade."

Bancroft droned on, but she didn't hear much more. All she could think of was that she would have to not only be in contact with the most gorgeous man she had ever seen, but she'd have to work with him, and be responsible for marketing his book.

She was doomed.

Her turbulent thoughts suddenly congealed around a horrifying idea: could this be what Puck had been talking about last night? The love of her life? More likely this was something the little trickster had set up to make her look bad.

Suddenly she realized Bancroft was finishing up. Enough negative thinking! she told herself sternly. You can do this. Her inner executive was much more confident than she was herself.

Anna decided that, given how easily Bancroft deflected her earlier concerns, the prospect of successfully arguing that she shouldn't be assigned this project because her world was being manipulated by a fairy plotting to fill Anna's life with romance, was obviously hopeless. No, instead she would throw herself into the project and just ignore any fay influences.

By late afternoon she had set up a series of meetings with small groups of booksellers. She searched company files for all of the merchants who had sold copies of their previous collector's editions, sent out several promotional emails, and posted Internet ads. Unfortunately there wasn't enough time to do any video teasers. At one point her friend Amanda poked her head in to say hello, but quickly retreated when she saw Anna at the center of her own little maelstrom of work.

** * * * *

The whirlwind of activity continued, and now she found herself, one month later, setting up tables to display the books, refreshments, and other publicity literature in the Presidential Suite at Chicago's Dearborn Arms Hotel. 

She and Gerhard had rendezvoused at the airport early that morning to make their 10am flight. He was just as devastatingly good-looking as she had remembered. After they had arrived at the hotel in Chicago, he had rolled up his shirtsleeves and worked alongside her, helping to set up displays, stack books, and do all of the final preparations for the start of the BookExpo. However, now that she had met him in person, it had embarrassed her to find she was at least two inches taller than he was. The height difference made her feel even more awkward as they worked.

The taste of Puck's flowers was the most dreadful thing Anna had ever experienced. As instructed, she had eaten one when she'd gotten ready that morning. The bitter taste at its first touch upon her tongue almost made her spit it out. Despite her taste buds cringing and her tongue curling away in protest, she'd grimly closed her eyes in determination and resolutely forced her lips together. Saliva welled up making it easier to swallow, yet still she almost gagged before getting it down successfully. After she'd swallowed and it seemed to take, Anna took a deep breath followed by a long drink of water. Vile! 


Midsummer-Night's Dreaming Ch. 02



Devoted to her though he seemed, legend had it that Puck was a mischievous fairy, fueling her doubts about whether there was anything the least bit magical about the little blossom. Was he laughing at her as she struggled with his foul-tasting prescription? And yet, if there was the slightest chance of it making her beautiful....

She had to admit Gerhard was a super-nice guy, having been so willing to pitch in and help with the setup. As they worked, he had kept her talking, his lines of inquiry delivered in a light, bantering manner that never seemed to let up until she felt she had told him her entire life story. But, she realized, she had loved every bit of his interest in her.

"Now come on," she'd finally said. "You've had me talking about myself all this time, and I don't know anything about you that's not already in your author's bio in the back of the book."

He shrugged. "There's not much else to tell. I'm just a guy who likes to take pictures. People pay me money and send me places to do it."

"Well, what about your accent? I know you're from Germany, but I can only hear just a trace of it in your voice."

"My parents moved here when I was five, so I've lived most of my life in your country." He looked at her for a moment, then stepped closer. "Excuse me, Ms. Kistner, but have you done any modeling?"

Flustered, she almost laughed as she blurted out, "No, never." She tossed her head defiantly but didn't utter her instinctive self-deprecating retort, Who would have me? There was a pause while she battled with her desire to say it out loud. Embarrassed by the silence, she hastily collected her wits enough to finally add, "And, please call me Anna."

Gerhard stopped right in front of her and looked up at her face. Reaching up, he smiled and said, "Anna, then. May I touch you for a moment? I would like to see how the light lays on the left side of your face."

His fingers were gentle as he placed them on her chin and nudged her profile gently to the left, then right again. At his first touch Anna felt an immediate flood of heat to her face. Modeling? A thought darted into her head. Puck's vile-tasting little flower really had made her look beautiful!

His face now in such close proximity, she felt a force like gravity pulling her downward toward his lips. She caught herself before she gave in to the feeling, swaying slightly in the process. He tipped her chin down just a little and held her still for a moment, his other hand on her waist to steady her. For a moment Anna thought he would be the one to lean in and initiate a kiss.

Suddenly he dropped his hands and turned away. "Excuse me, Ms. Kistner. I almost did something most unprofessional. It won't happen again. But, if you are ever interested in modeling, please let me know. I think I could work you into several projects."

The encounter in the Presidential Suite loomed in the back of her mind all evening. Over supper down in the hotel's restaurant, she continued to try to draw him out. They had each had a glass of wine, but even so she found it frustratingly difficult to get him to talk about anything personal. They ended up talking mainly about the mechanics of publishing his book.

Back in the suite, Gerhard turned on the TV, and Anna tried to do some reading. After such a long and busy day, she could hardly keep her eyes open. This was the awkward moment she'd dreaded since Tyler Bancroft had assigned her to the project. She had known she would have to go to bed. She now had to go to bed in a room, adjoining a room in which the most desirable man Anna had ever seen, would be ... sleeping.

She closed her eyes and mentally took herself in hand, shaking a metaphoric finger at herself. Don't even think about him, she told herself sternly. Just take your kit into the bathroom, do your thing, and get into bed.

"Gerhard, I'm going to turn in." She stood up, and he looked over at her from where he sat barefoot, cross-legged on the couch.

"Sure. Get a good night's sleep," he said distractedly. "We'll be busy tomorrow, but I'm going to try to get some word on the talks in the Middle East today before I turn in." He turned back to the TV.

Why don't you come to bed with me? she thought silently, addressing her invitation to the back of his head, and sighed. How could she possibly think a man who was more interested in the Middle East than in sports scores, would ever be interested in her? Puck's beauty flowers or not, she had to be realistic.

** * * * *

A crack of thunder awakened her. She'd been deep into a dream when the crackle and boom exploded her into wakefulness. Stunned, she lay there in the heavy silence that followed, trying to gather her thoughts. A flash of light made her jerk in surprise, and moments later she was rocked by another crash of thunder. Her heart pounded in her chest. Thunderstorms had terrified her as a child, and she'd never grown out of it.

She looked around wildly, unsure at first of where she was. The next flash made her catch her breath, but an even larger pulse of light made her moan out loud. A hotel room. She was in a hotel room. Chicago. A double roar of sound hit, and this time she felt the bed shake. Terrified, she leapt up. She had to get away! Scrambling into the main room of the suite, she stood uncertainly for a moment, her breath ragged in her throat. Through the huge, uncurtained, rain-streaked windows, the city of Chicago spread out below her, the lights of Michigan Avenue a flow of luminous pixels.

Another dazzling flash of light lit the living room. The huge windows wrapped around the corner of the suite, and the flashes of lightning blazed in, unimpeded. A soul-shaking concussion followed close on the heels of the flash. Anna fell to her knees, put her hands over her ears, and screamed. Stroke after merciless stroke made the room burn with light. Even with her eyes closed, the pulses kept coming. She couldn't stop screaming.

All at once she felt someone beside her, holding her, encouraging her to stand up. Crying so hard she could not see, she let the hands guide her along to a dimmer, quieter place. Her mind stupidly refused to think. Finally she realized — Gerhard. She clung to him, blubbering out her thanks.

"Here. Sit. Relax." His voice was gentle. Calming.

She sat, and he continued to hold her, stroking her hair. Lightning flashed again, during which she clung desperately to him with a whimper of fright. "There, there. I'm here." He hugged her close. "Nothing to be scared of. I'll protect you."

Each new flash and crash threatened to send her into hysterics, yet gradually her sobs eased. As she calmed down, he loosened his grip and urged her to lay back. She realized she was on a bed, and gratefully sank back onto the sheets. He lay down next to her and flipped the blankets up across both of them.

"Here, just relax. I'm right here to hold you." He stroked her hair and hugged her shoulders.

His voice was calming; his room darker than hers. The bursts of lightning gradually diminished in intensity and frequency. Rain drummed on the windows, and her heart rate slowed. Calm now, she felt sleep began to nudge its way forward. Soon she succumbed, oblivious to everything.

* * * * * *

Cozy and secure with him spooned up behind her, she roused out of a warm and very sexy dream. By the time she'd become aware of having dreamed, she had lost the images. Disappointed, yet the arousal lingered and she squeezed her legs together to enhance the sensations. A hardness pressed up against her buttocks, making her eyelids flutter open in surprise. She smiled. She recognized this game; he must be awake by now, waiting to see what she would do next.

She heaved up enough to pull her oversized night-shirt off over her head and then lay down, snuggling back against him. He'd lain still as she resettled herself. Reaching behind, she found his hard cock and pulled it through the opening in his shorts. Spreading her legs and arching her back a little, she moved the head between her cheeks and positioned it against the lips of her moistened pussy. Still aroused from the dream, her slick opening allowed the bulbous tip to nudge inside easily when she gently pushed back against him. Would he or wouldn't he? It was sort of a gambit at this point: sometimes they would just lie, barely coupled like this, and drift off back to sleep; other times it was a prelude to a hot session of middle-of-the-night fucking.

For several long minutes nothing happened, then she felt it — a slight push, and his cock slid another inch inside her. She sighed her acceptance and pushed back a little more to increase the penetration. Reaching back, she found one of his hands and placed it over her breast. Nothing happened for a moment;, then she felt him squeeze her nipple. 

A moment later she felt his cock retreat slightly, then push forward again. She gave a squeeze of encouragement with her pelvic muscles and sighed. A slow approach was such a welcome change. The anticipation of more to come fed her increasing arousal. His fingers tightened around her nipple again, but this time he pulled on it gently, and the stretching sensation added to the excitement of the manipulation. 

So slow. So languid. She felt his lips press against the skin along her shoulder blade. 

It was heaven, but soon she needed more. She pressed backward again to get more penetration. The response was immediate; this time his whole body moved, flexing against her like a sweeping caress as his hands moved to hold her hips, while his cock slid fully into her. The sensation was amazing, but something felt different. With the next stroke she realized what it was: the cock inside of her was large — much larger than she was used to. At the peak of penetration it bumped against her cervix, lodging itself there as he rotated his hips and moaned softly, sweetly, into her hair. She felt his balls snug against her pussy lips, and there was a tension in his body as he held her, reaching around to her tummy to stroke her skin.

A shock of realization brought her fully awake. It was Gerhard who was inside her! She almost panicked, but he was moving again and each stroke of his cock sent another wave of delightful feelings into her body. She did not move except to shift her head back a little to give his lips more access to the skin on her shoulders and neck. Gerhard gripped her hips, and increased the frequency of his movements to a blissful tempo. 

For a very fleeting moment, she felt guilty. She was in his bed, not because they had decided to make love, but because she had panicked during the lightning storm. Maybe he thought she had tricked him into this. Wait, though; wasn't this exactly what she had wanted, all this time? The man of her masturbatory fantasies was finally fucking her.... And she felt guilty? 

Gerhard now stroked even faster, and Anna felt a tense urgency in his movements. She was close to her peak but not quite there when his body stiffened behind her. She felt him pumping erratically; his hard cock pulsed inside her, once, twice, and she heard him groan ecstatically. He suddenly took another deep stroke pushing all of the way into her, and she felt another pulse like an exclamation point to his moans of ecstasy. 

He lay there behind her, breathing heavily against her shoulder, holding himself inside her, but she could tell he was spent. She gave a last desperate squeeze to try to get herself off, but she was not quite there. A sigh of frustration escaped her lips.

"Mmmm," he mumbled into her hair as he nuzzled her neck. "Sorry that was so quick, but it's been so long." His hand moved sensuously as his fingers stroked along her abdomen and across her chest. Gently, he cradled a breast again, his long fingers spreading to lightly knead and caress her nipple.

So close and yet so far ... and as his hands went still, she felt ready to give up on men forever. They lay there for a few moments, and she had begun to gather her resignation like an all-too-familiar blanket around her, when she felt his hand leave her breast to go back down to caress her stomach. A finger found her navel and circled it. The little tickling sensation made her pelvic muscles clench in response and she giggled. She could feel his lips smiling against the skin on her shoulder, his cock still buried deep inside her.

He kissed and nuzzled her neck as his hand slid lower to the edge of her secret hair, and lightly brushed through the curls, tracing the crease of her thighs. She moaned as he cupped the base of her abdomen with his hand, his fingers just reaching the top edge above her clit. She spread her legs slightly to give him more room, and a new promise of arousal flickered its way to her brain. 

Again she used her muscles to squeeze Gerhard's cock and was disappointed when the softening organ slipped out of her. 

Now that the connection between them was broken, Gerhard rolled back slightly and used one hand to nudge her left leg to the side. She shifted to oblige, and opened her legs a little more. His fingers traced the sensitive skin along her inner thigh, and her skin fluttered in response. The caress came back up the front of her thigh, across her pudendum, and on down along her other thigh. Oh, my....

Gerhard pulled away and moved over her, kneeling between her legs. He leaned up and gave her a soft, non-demanding kiss on her lips. He feathered kisses across her cheeks, her neck, her throat, her shoulders.... Anna felt herself melting. She felt like she was being worshiped, and discovered that she loved it.

His mouth found her breasts and kissed them thoroughly, leaving the tips for last. In another moment he suckled each nipple and swirled around each with his tongue. Her heart almost stopped as she felt him leave her breast, trailing kisses and gentle licks down her stomach. Was he really going to do what she hoped he might?

Scooting farther back down on the bed, Gerhard kissed a path across her stomach and gave her a light kiss on her mound. He didn't linger there, much to Anna's initial disappointment, but continued kissing and licking down her inner thighs. He bent her legs up at the knee to gain better access to the sensitive skin inside her thighs. For a moment, the position made Anna's overloaded brain flash to her last gynecological exam, but she hurriedly pushed that thought out of her head.

Gerhard paused, and she imagined him poised between her legs. Could he see her sex the way she imagined she must look: open and begging for his attention? She had overheard other women talking about having their pussies licked, and she had seen it in some of the porn videos Jake was always watching. Would he really do that to her...?

He would. She felt the first feather-like caress of his tongue along her outer lips. Now she could feel his warm breath on her sex, and hungered for the touch of his lips. The bed undulated a little as he shifted lower so he could lean in even farther. His hands turned and she felt the touch of the tips of his long fingers on her most intimate folds as they gently spread her open. She was holding her breath in anticipation when he finally placed a gentle kiss at the center of her sex.

"Oh my god! No one's ever done that before," she panted, half-sitting up in shock and delight.

He broke off the kiss, and in the faint light she could see he was looking up at her. "Then lay back and enjoy. You're a beautiful woman who deserves to have beautiful sex."

Even though she knew it wasn't true, well at least the part about her beauty, his words made her glow inside. She eased back onto the pillows at the head of the bed, a new world of sensation opening for her. He kissed her there again, and she felt his tongue sliding down through the crease in the swollen folds to lick up and down her pussy lips. She eased her legs open even farther, surrendering herself completely to the sensation.

Oh, the sensations! At first it felt a little strange, but she quickly realized it was a very pure form of sexual caress, not as overwhelmingly galvanizing as a vibrator, but intimately sensual. His tongue stirred up feelings in places she didn't even know she had ... places. It connected directly to the core of her entire being. 

She heard someone moaning and realized it was her own voice. Suddenly Gerhard flicked his tongue back and forth across her clit, and her orgasm exploded. It was so sharp and sudden, that she involuntarily jackknifed upward, then fell back onto the pillow. 

"Oh my god, Gerhard. What did you do to me?" she gasped when she could speak again. She looked down between her legs and could see he was smiling up at her.

"Just repaying pleasure with pleasure." He bent forward and planted another kiss on her sex. "It's a very personal way of saying thank you."

She reached down and ran her fingers through his thick hair. She'd wanted to do that all day, and now it seemed natural. "I've never felt that way before," she said with another sigh. 

Still coming down from the euphoria of her climax, her thoughts lazily wandered over what had just happened as she felt herself relaxing back toward sleep. She continued to play with his hair with a finger, and he gave her another kiss on her sex. And, another..... She felt his tongue trace her outer lips again and slide slowly past her clit. 

"What are you doing?" she gasped.

"Just making sure you understand how grateful I am."

Anna was tempted to stop him, but his tongue felt so good as it slid over, under, and around her sensitive vulva. Her excitement had not faded, and she felt herself responding strongly to his renewed attention. She reached her finger down between her legs and pulled back a little on her clitoral hood exposing the delicate tissue. He responded with a sweet little kiss on the glans and then flicked the sensitive little bud twice. She jerked back on the pillow, but before she could say anything, he went right back to his slow licking. 

Except this time it wasn't quite as slow as before. Gradually he built the tempo, punctuating the long strokes along her lips with sudden flicks of his tongue across her clit. She felt her arousal grow until she felt she must be glowing in the darkness. Small, involuntary spasms began to flicker through the center of her body.

A finger slid inside her slick opening. No wait, two fingers. In response to the intrusion she squeezed with her pelvic muscles, intensifying the feeling. His fingers found a sensitive spot inside her, and he stroked it in time with the caresses of his tongue. Her sex spasmed and seemed to burst apart as Anna wailed, the huge wave of her climax pulsing through her body. The ecstasy seemed to go on forever, one wave feeding the next, carrying her higher and higher. She could not get her breath. Finally, after an almost painful convulsion of pure ecstasy, she fell back on the bed — her body boneless. Her fingers, toes, and lips tingled.

Blissfully unaware of her surroundings, she lay still until finally she looked up and recognized Gerhard's dimly lit face above her. He kissed her softly on the lips, and it felt like the most natural thing in the world. His torso pressed gently down on top of hers, with most of his weight resting on his elbows.

He stroked her face lightly with his right hand. "Are you back with me?"

"Did I go away?" She leaned up slightly and returned the kiss. Anna thought she saw him smile.

"Not too far," he answered. He stroked her cheek with the back of his hand and outlined the edges of her ears with his long fingers. 

She sighed dreamily. Gerhard shifted position slightly so he could use his left hand to caress her. With delight, Anna realized he was back inside her. "What do you have in mind?" she purred happily.

"You think I'm planning this?" he chuckled. "I'm just making it up as I go along."




Midsummer-Night's Dreaming Ch. 02



"I admire your talent for improvisation."

"You are inspiring."

For the first time in many minutes, she felt a little niggle of guilt as she remembered Puck's beautifying flower. She was reminded of the childhood story of Cinderella and understood only too well the girl's panic as the bell tolled midnight. That thought fled as Gerhard caressed the edge of her left ear, then followed the line of her eyebrow to her nose. He replaced his finger with his lips and kissed the tip. "Being with you like this is wonderful." He nudged his cock forward slightly. "Would you like just a little more?"

"Mmm hmmm. You are remarkable."

"And you are magnificent," he said as he plunged a full stroke inside her.

"Aaah," she sighed, her hands roaming up and down his back. He continued to alternately thrust deeply in and pull almost all of the way out, the sensations fanning the embers of her excitement back into full flame.

For several minutes neither spoke except for inarticulate grunts and groans as each attempted to match the other's increasingly frantic motions. Anna's crest was not as strong as before, but it was deep, and she felt a flush of euphoria course through her entire body as Gerhard spent his last few strokes inside her. Soon she felt him withdraw and snuggle in beside her. Sated, she fell immediately and deeply asleep.

** * * * *

Anna awoke when Gerhard got back into bed. The room was light. She stretched and looked over at the clock. It was still early. 

"Anna, we have to talk." He cuddled up behind her and put his arms around her.

Of course they had to talk. Last night was wonderful, she still felt a glow inside, but it made things extremely complicated, not to mention completely impossible. She also had to use the bathroom. 

"Okay. Just let me get up for a minute."

Before she could escape, he took her hand. She stopped moving and allowed him to turn her back to him. "Please. You will come back so we can talk? Here, I mean. In the bed. It seems ... appropriate, I guess."

The man had even brushed his teeth. She looked at him and melted, but she was self-conscious about her nudity. "Of course. Just let me find my night shirt, and I'll be right back." 

Before going to the bathroom, Anna made a detour back to her own room to retrieve Puck's little packet of wilted flowers. She stared at the contents for a long moment before plucking out another blossom and popping it in her mouth. If anything, this one was worse than the one she had swallowed yesterday. Again she almost gagged, her facial muscles cramping in a rictus of revulsion. The taste gradually faded, and she darted into the bathroom.

Before she came back she took time to brush her teeth — thoroughly. The memory of the flower's horrid taste lingered.

Back in Gerhard's room, he smiled when he saw her. He flipped back the covers for her, and she could see he had put on a pair of boxers. That made her feel more comfortable. She also noticed the man had a tight set of symmetrical ripples in the muscles across his bare lower abdomen. Could he be any more perfect?

Gerhard smiled when she settled in beside him. "Thank you. I was afraid you might not be willing to talk about last night."

Before he could say any more, Anna said, "I'm so sorry. I feel like I tricked you into ... you know ..."

"Into one of the greatest experiences I've ever had?" He arched an eyebrow at her. "I don't think it was any kind of a trick. You were in hysterics from the storm. Mad with terror. There was no trick there."

He did not understand. Granted, her terror of lightning wasn't a trick — her hysterics had been real enough. No, she meant the trick that she was continuing to play on him, by using Puck's flowers to make herself beautiful. If he had ever seen the real Anna, he would never have come within 10 yards of her.

"No," Gerhard went on, "what I have to do is apologize for my behavior."

"Apologize? Gerhard, you were perfect — "

He stopped her at that point by putting a gentle finger to her lips. "No, please. Hear me out." He looked down for a moment. "My life is...." When he looked back at her, his eyes were full of pain. "It's complicated right now. I...."

He looked down again. 

Anna sensed he was on the verge of tears. 

She cupped his face in her hand. "There's someone else, isn't there?" Anticipating his confirmation made her both disappointed and relieved. Gerhard was the most perfect man she'd ever been with, but of course a perfect man would have prior commitments. She took comfort in knowing that now she would never have to reveal her own secret, and that he would always remember the beautiful Anna, whether she was real or not.

He smiled at her. "No, there's no one else. Not that way." He plunged on and she could see his resolve. "I want to tell you that things are difficult for me right now. Maybe someday...." He looked away.

Now his admission had her intrigued. Setting aside her own thoughts, she said, "Well, I know for a fact you're not gay," trying to add a little levity to ease the awkwardness.

He grinned at her. "Figured that out, did you?" He reached out and gave her a gentle hug. "No, you are special, but I couldn't ask you to get involved with my life right now."

She smiled back. "It's okay. I've got a lot of things going on in my life too."

For a time he said nothing and just gazed at her with eyes filled with desire, and ... something else. "I would like to explain in a way so you understand. Would you..." he spoke hesitantly, but determinedly, as if he'd decided something. "Would you have dinner with me some night after we get back? I need to show you a part of my life I keep very private."

"Sure. Why not? As long as we both know things can't go any farther." Her confidence had returned.

He leaned forward and gave her a gentle kiss. "Thank you."

She stared into his dark eyes for a moment, then crushed her lips back against his. The kiss went on for a long time. When they separated, her hand bumped against his hard erection. 

"Oh, my god. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to..." -- " 

His kiss cut off her reply, demanding her acknowledgement. She wrapped her arms around him and thrust herself against him. He pawed at her nightshirt. They pulled and tore at each other's clothing until there was nothing in the way between their bodies, the touch of skin on skin intensifying mutual desire to join, to lock into each other, to....

Anna was on fire. She rolled over on top of him. They thrust against each other, heated skin rubbing wildly together, pausing just long enough to let her reach down between them and guide him inside her. He stared up at her while she rode him passionately, forming her name silently with his lips as he bucked up against her downward lunges. They exploded in a duet of fierce desire.

They finally separated, breathless. Anna sighed, and basked in the warm, post-coital glow as she cuddled up close behind him. The next thing she knew, a beam of sunlight hit her face. She levered herself up in bed to look at the clock.

"Shit!" She smacked Gerhard hard on the bottom. "It's late. The first group will be here in less than half an hour. We've got to get going." 

There was no time for clothes or taking turns in the bathroom. Anna started her shower while Gerhard shaved. They both shared the counter for a time during their last minute preparations, and Anna sensed the intimacy of the moment. 

They both were ready in time. Barely. 

Even in their rush, she had marveled at how comfortable it felt to be getting ready together. They were already like an old married couple. 

She had giggled at the thought, and receiving an inquiring look from Gerhard looked at her. "Just ignore me," she had said, embarrassed.

The rest of the day went by in a blur of activity. 

All of her preparation the past month had paid off in spades, and the results were even better than she had hoped. Anna handled all of the discussions about orders, including technical details about the special edition which were of particular importance to collectors. The displays featured sample pages from the prepress run of the collector's edition, as well as copies of the standard hard cover edition which would be sold in bookstores.

The coffee table sized bookstore edition with its many color prints was not cheap to publish, and it was priced accordingly. The quality made Gerhard's powerful photos compelling, and the volume would sell well. In the collector's edition, however, special technical press work captured a much greater tonal range in the photos. The resulting portfolio of his work was nothing short of magnificent — a bound gallery of art prints.

Gerhard's role was to schmooze with the buyers and create interest in his book. He told about hiding in the bush from poachers in an African wildlife preserve, fleeing from two young Pakistanis who had tried to take him hostage in the tribal regions near Afghanistan, breathing air from a scuba tank while tethered to a lifeline inside the rim of an active volcano....

Anna was kept busy almost continuously, yet she overheard some of the anecdotes Gerhard recounted. Listening to him and watching him interact with the buyers triggered a spark of desire that flickered in her loins. She tamped it down immediately. Thank heavens last night had been just a fluke one-night-stand. Ah, but it had been such a wonderful fluke. 

* * * * * *

That night found Anna in bed, exhausted. She'd ordered a sandwich from room service and turned in early, while Gerhard had gone down alone to the hotel's restaurant. Going to bed early was the smart thing to do, so she would be full of energy tomorrow. It was also the coward's way out. She had successfully convinced herself that being alone with Gerhard in the suite would be more than she could bear.

For a long time she lay resting in bed, unable to drop off, her mind skittering from one thought to another. At one point she heard Gerhard come into the suite. She lay completely still. holding her breath. Would he come in to her room? Would he just go to bed? What did she want him to do?

She heard little noises in the suite, but she couldn't tell what he was doing. She wanted him to make wild, passionate love to her again, like he had last night. But that would be a disaster once he discovered she wasn't the beautiful women he thought she was. She knew he had complications in his life, impediments. Couldn't he just throw those aside, and .... 

Would he, or wouldn't he? That was the question. 'Would it be nobler to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune' or to take him in her arms against.... Her dark fantasy of Gerhard as Hamlet faded as sleep finally took over.

* * * * * *

Obviously he had been able to resist her, Anna thought when she woke up alone the next morning. It was light outside. A tap repeated itself on her door, and Anna realized what had awakened her. 

"Anna? I just thought I'd let you know, I'm going down for breakfast."

"Just a second." Her thoughts wouldn't sort out straight. Finally she realized he was still waiting for a reply, and called out, "I'm going to be a while. Go on without me." 

She was dressed and ready by the time he'd returned to the room. "How was the breakfast?" she asked lamely.

He smiled and imitated the snooty concierge on duty in the little lobby on their floor, "Exquisite. The grits and gravy were just like Mother used to make."

Anna stared at him a moment, before detecting the movement of the corner of his mouth as it twitched up. "That's sass, isn't it? You're pulling my leg."

"Such a charming American idiom," he replied. "Your legs are quite long enough — no need to pull them." 

He smiled, and Anna realized he was making a joke about his being the shorter of the two of them. 

She had to get out of the room before she started to drool all over his nicely shined shoes. "Okay, I'll be back shortly, but I'm going to stick with cereal."

"I'll start the setup for the first meetings."

Anna was halfway out the door before she stopped and turned back. "You really don't have to do that, Gerhard." This was the first time she'd said his name since.... Since they'd made love. She felt a warm feeling scurry between her legs. "I mean, I'm supposed to be the one who does the work for the show."

"So, I'm just here to be a pretty face?" he'd smiled as he said it, but it hit Anna right in the gut.

She stepped close to him. "Yes, you're a very pretty face, but it's not right for us, is it?"

Her feelings had betrayed her, she realized belatedly. She had started to tear up, when he took her gently in his arms.

He held her for a moment and patted her gently on the back. "Let's behave and work through the next few days. Afterwards, we can talk about our 'complications'."

When he let her go, Anna heaved a deep sigh and went out the door.

** * * * *

And, work they did. After three days of nonstop meetings, sales pitches, and order details, they were both tired but flush with success, selling twice as many of the collector's editions as they expected. She planned to plop the bulging order book on Bancroft's desk as soon as she got back.

They ate at the Park Grill near McCormick Place that evening. Gerhard kept the small talk away from anything personal, and they ended up talking about the sales they had made. As they sat waiting for the bill, he expressed surprise that there had been so little interest from the major book retail chains.

"I sort of expected that," Anna said. "They're out to move merchandise, and the collector's version of your book has a limited appeal in that market. I called the guy who managed the last special edition we did, and he said to look to the smaller chains and even independent outlets. They know their customers better, and they'll know exactly who will be interested."

"Like that little white-haired lady from Ohio," Gerhard looked at Anna and smiled. "I liked her."

"Of course. She's a retired librarian and she found your charms irresistible." Gerhard blushed, and Anna went on. "She runs a shop in a small town, lives on her retirement money, and sees herself as providing a service to her community. She bought three copies, and she knew exactly to whom she was going to sell them. Booksellers like her know their market."

Anna stopped her enthusiastic lecture when she noticed Gerhard had stopped eating and was looking at her. "What?" She looked down at herself. "Did I dribble?"

He blinked and looked away. "Sorry. I just admire, I don't know, your enthusiasm? You are fascinating when you get excited about something."

A blot on her blouse she could have handled. Gerhard's compliment made her blush. 

Back at the suite after supper, Gerhard had another surprise. He went to the refrigerator and pulled out at bottle topped with a foil wrap. 

"Champagne?" Anna asked.

"Even better. I found this in a wine shop in the little concourse across the street. Have you ever tried any sparkling varietal wines?" 

When Anna looked puzzled, Gerhard continued. "Well, you told me you liked pinot noir, so I thought you might like to try a sparkling pinot. It's a pinot noir, but fermented to have bubbles." He'd been working at the cork, and now it came away with a deep, resounding champagne-like "POP! as the pressure released from the bottle.

She watched him pour it into two of the drinking glasses in the suite. 

"Not exactly champagne flutes, but good enough to toast your success in selling my book." He held out a glass to her, and they clinked them together.

The wine was deep red, but it had bubbles of fizz at the surface. She took a sip and was delightfully surprised. Bright and lively on her tongue, it tasted like a good pinot noir, but the bubbles gave it a whole new character. "Oh, my goodness!" she said. "I like that. It's wonderful!"

Gerhard smiled and held out his glass. They clinked again, and took a sip together. Suddenly Anna felt awkward. Here they were in the suite. Alone. With a bottle of wine. 

He seemed to sense her hesitation. "Why don't we just sit and look at the city for a while and ... talk about sales?"

They dragged one of the long couches over in front of the pair of sliding glass doors which opened onto a small balcony. Anna slid the doors open while Gerhard turned down the lights so they could watch the glowing flow of Chicago at night.

"The city at night is beautiful from up here," she observed. Her comment wasn't about sales, but the appeal of the vista was inescapable. 

"I agree, but I also feel a pull from out there." He gestured with his glass toward the dark lake where only a few feeble spots of light were visible.

"What? The lake?"

"And beyond. Sometimes I feel claustrophobic with all the people of a city around me." He finished his first glass, poured himself another, and refilled Anna's drink. "Going out on assignment lets me.... I don't know, decompress, I guess."

They both leaned forward, gazing out over the balcony and occasionally pointing out one sight or another, but they mainly just enjoyed the moment. Soon the wine was gone, and Anna felt a steady pull toward Gerhard. She leaned close enough to feel the gentle warmth from his body, an inviting contrast to the cool air of the evening. 

She leaned a little closer, her head settling on his shoulder. He responded by putting his arm around her, and she snuggled closer, happy to be near him. They sat like that for some time.

He shifted a little, and she felt the touch of his lips on the top of her head. "I'm sorry, but you are so attractive."

She felt guilty, but she couldn't resist lifting her face to his. For a moment he just stared at her, then he leaned forward slightly and kissed her softly on the lips. 

They held the kiss for a long time. Anna finally broke away. Sighing happily she turned round to face him and lay back into his arms. More comfortable now she pulled him forward and kissed him again. He responded and caressed her hair.

For a long time they kissed and necked chastely, like a pair of teenagers with parents in the next room. Gradually she lay back a little more until her head rested in his lap. He had to lean down farther to kiss her, yet now his hands were free to caress her arms and shoulders. She reached up and ran her fingers through his hair. She could feel her passion building. Did she really want this? Was it fair to Gerhard when she knew he wouldn't like the real Anna?

It didn't matter. Her body betrayed her. She gave a little moan of appreciation the first time his hand brushed across her breast. He stroked her gently, outside of her clothes, his touch so light she could scarcely feel it. The man was maddening. She hungered for his touch on her bare skin. Finally she reached up and undid the top button of her blouse. When he didn't immediately take the hint, she undid another. A worrying thought occurred to her, that he might not want her tonight.

He did. His hand came up and traced her collar bone. Next it wandered down the exposed skin in between her breasts. His fingers dipped to the remaining buttons, unfastening them one by one. Brushing the fabric off of her shoulders, he stroked her bare skin with the back of his hand. 

Next he found the front clasp of her bra and popped it open easily. She'd worn her one bra which fastenedwith fasteners in front. Had she saved it deliberately for tonight? When he lifted the cups gently off her breasts, she stopped her all self -reflection. All she could think about was, immersed in sensations and thoughts of what he would do next.

Her breasts could be sensitive at first touch. Gerhard began by brushing them softly and slowly with the back of his hand. Each caress felt better than the last. Slowly he circled the mounds again, leaving her nipples waiting in anticipation. She didn't have to wait long, though it wasn't his hands that touched them. Instead he leaned over and took her nipples one nipple at a time into his mouth, and he sucked them until they each stood up stiff, begging for more. 




Midsummer-Night's Dreaming Ch. 03



Puck, the mischievous nature sprite of legend, must enlist the help of mortals to prevent a crisis which could erupt between the human world and the world of Fairie - a place full of dangers for mortals. Dash, a failed writer, has to protect mankind from a potentially deadly conflict. Fortunately, Puck finds someone to help Dash with the quest.

This is the third of a series of stories about Puck's adventures in the modern world. Although they are told in a chronological sequence of sort, the stories are independent. Don't worry if you haven't read the others. You can enjoy this one, then read the rest.

I would like to thank Gustav Rennick for his help with editing.

With an almost silent rustle of keys, Dash Ressel finished another sentence. "Oh, for the days of John D. McDonald's Red-Hot Typewriter," he thought. Back then authors had the tactile feed back, the satisfaction of slamming away at the keys of a mechanical typewriter and hearing the clickety-clack of the type bar leaving a real imprint of the ink ribbon on a real sheet of paper. Dash had just the rattle of the keys on his old laptop. The machine served to render his ideas into words on a screen, but they were stored in an invisible, insubstantial electronic file somewhere in the depths of the machine and in the cloud somewhere - but did creating a series of little electromagnetic patterns really constitute "writing?"

Dash shook his head slowly, and judged from his eyes' swaying focus that he was not yet done writing for the evening. He went to the kitchen, poured another three fingers of bourbon into his glass, and sat back down with his computer. "Lets see," he mumbled to himself, "boy meets girl - boy loses girl - boy turns into homicidal maniac..." He nodded to himself. "Yep, a basic, young-adult plot line."

There was a knock at the door. Dash ignored the sound. Since he lived so far off the beaten track in the wilds of Kentucky, he knew it was no visitor. It was either a walnut falling off the huge tree which overhung the front of the cabin, or it was that mange-ridden raccoon begging for scraps again. Well, the 'coon was out of luck because he had finished the entire can of chili he had heated for his supper.

There was another knock at the door. It sounded a little too purposeful to be a walnut, and the animal never used his fist. Dash pushed back his chair, took a swallow of bourbon, and headed for the door. He swung the door wide and looked out. Just as he had thought. No one there.

"Good evening, sir. May I introduce myself?"

Startled, Dash looked down. A little man, maybe eight inches high, stood on the stoop. Dash looked down at the remaining bourbon in the glass. Maybe he was a little farther along than he had thought.

Evidently standing there in the doorway with his jaw hanging down was enough of an invitation for the little man because he skipped past Dash into the cabin. Inside the door he stopped and looked around. "Be it ever so humble, there is no place like home," he said. "At least that's what I have heard said." The little man looked around. "And this certainly is humble."

Still in the doorway with his hand on the doorknob, Dash felt a flush of heat. "Who the hell are you, and what do you think you are doing in my cabin?"

The little man turned around, swept off his small green cap, and bowed low. "I, good sir, am Puck - the fairy. You may have heard of me."

"Not since Mrs. Potter's freshman English class," Dash replied. He looked up into the rafters of the cabin and exhaled an alcohol-laden gust of breath. "I must be drunker than I thought," he thought to himself. Dash stepped back inside, closed the door, and went back to his desk. He flopped into his chair, looked into his glass, swirled the contents, and took another swallow. He looked back into the room. The little man still stood there - hat in hand and tapping his foot impatiently. "Shit," Dash thought. "This will not end well."

"So what do you want?" Dash finally asked. "What kind of nasty tricks are you here to play?"

Now that Dash had finally recognized him, Puck hopped up on the desk in front of him. "You, sir, appear to be a drunken sot, and I need someone of clear mind. If we are to save mankind from the foul fiends of the depths of Fairie, I need someone sharp of sense and keen of wit."

Dash lifted his glass in mock salute and downed the last of the bourbon. "Well, my senses are plenty witty when I've had a little pop - or two. After all, I am keenly enjoying imagining I am talking to a fairy." He couldn't help himself. He had to giggle. 

The little man frowned. "I can certainly see I will get nowhere with you this evening. You force me to take measures."

"Yeah, right," said Dash and he stood up and walked to the kitchen where the bourbon bottle still sat. He poured himself another healthy belt. "If I'm this screwed up already, I might as well go for the big 'all-fall-down' this evening." Truthfully, he was a little unnerved by the fact that his imagination had gotten so vivid tonight. What if this really was the tricksey Robin Goodfellow of legend? He shook his shoulders. "Be real," he told himself. "Go back and sit down. Drink 'till you pass out, and in the morning this will all be a memory." Hmm, a happy thought - maybe it wouldn't be even a memory if he got enough liquor down.

Because his glass was full, Dash sat down a little more carefully. The little man still stood on the desk. "Yep," Dash thought. "Need more bourbon." Out loud, he said, "Ever since Marcy left me, I haven't been getting much." He took a leisurely sip. "So, Mister Puck, if you'd just magic me up a woman, you know, one of those nymphs you fairies cavort around with, this could be just a perfect evening. Do that, and I'll be glad to help." He tipped the glass towards the little man in a small salute, then he took another good sized sip. For a moment he held the amber liquid in his mouth savoring the flavor and feeling it numb his tongue and gums before he swallowed. Dash smacked his lips and sighed.

Puck gasped. "Oh, don't even wish for such a thing as it may be granted." He shuddered and turned away.

"What? What do you mean?" Dash asked. "What's wrong with wanting a little sport tonight?"

The little man turned back to face him, his face intense. "Oh, you would enjoy it, right enough. Hyleoroi, the watcher of this valley, would inflame your senses, and you would rut after her like a buck deer after a doe in heat. But that is doom for any mortal, for no man can satisfy one of the nymphs for long." As he spoke, Puck walked closer until he stood at the edge of the desk practically eye to eye with Dash.

Dash, for his part, leaned back and took another sip. "Well maybe they just need someone with a man-sized prick." He winked at Puck.

The fairy looked at him, disgusted. "Oh yes, foolish mortal. You could satisfy her once. Twice. More. And, it would be the most exquisite of pleasure." He sat down on the edge of the desk and crossed his legs. "But then you would be hers. Once every day, she would need it again. And again. And again. For one day at a time, she would be yours, but on the morrow, she would be free of your spell." He nodded grimly. "But you would never - ever - be free of hers. Just the thought of her with another would fill you with rage and desolation at the same time. You would have to have her again or feel the torment of the loss of the supreme pleasure to be found between her thighs."

A little shaken by Puck's intensity, Dash took another sip. "Well," he grumbled, "then what good is talkin' to a fairy going to do me?"

"Very well," Puck said with a sigh. He stood up "Enough of this. I will return later after you have sobered up and had some relief." The little man took a small envelope out of a pocket and opened it. Dash watched in puzzlement as he shook some powder into his hand. He leaned close, and, with a little smile, he blew a puff of powder into Dash's face.

"Hey, what the..." Dash started to protest, but as the powder hit his face, he felt a fiery pain in his nose, and he convulsed with a powerful sneeze. And again. He sat there dazed for a moment then exploded with a third sneeze.

Between the liquor and the sneezes, it took Dash a while before he could get his eyes to focus. The little fairy was gone. Had he ever really been there? Puck? Oh, for crying out loud. My, this was one glorious piss-up - and he was only on his third glass. Reminded of his glass, Dash looked around for it and didn't see it. Oh. There it was on the floor with a small puddle of bourbon soaking into the threadbare carpet.

He sighed and leaned over to pick it up. Well, since he had not finished the whole glass, it would not be too soon to get another glassful. He wandered over to the table and picked up the bottle. He put a splash in the bottom of the glass, but he had a thought. Maybe he should be a little careful. The more he considered what had just transpired - had the fairy been in his cabin or just in his head? - the more it seemed as if he might have had enough liquor for the evening. He looked at the glass. Well, he should finish the little swig he had already dumped in the glass. After all, that would just replace what he had lost out of his last glass. It wouldn't kill him.

As he brought the glass to his lips, he smelled a foul oder. He stopped and looked at his hands. Had he had his hands in some dog shit? Setting the glass down he inspected his fingers. Nope. Clean as a whistle, but he went to the sink and washed them anyway. "Huh. Seeing things, and now smelling things," he said to himself.

Once more he lifted the glass only to smell the same awful smell. "Phew," he said out loud. Curious he sniffed a little to locate the source. It smelled the worst right above the glass. The bourbon? No that was impossible. He dipped his finger into the liquid and brought it to his nose. The sharp reek made his eyes water. There was no way he could possibly drink this. The little fairy must have polluted the whole bottle. Well, crap. There was at least a quarter of it left.

Dash set his glass down, picked up the bourbon bottle, and took a whiff over the open neck. The smell of sixty-shades-of-shit made his nostrils curl. Gagging he set the bottle back down and thought for a moment. He held his breath and picked it up. Carefully breathing through his mouth, he took the bottle to the sink, poured the remainder down the drain, and rinsed the bottle three times. For good measure he scrubbed around the sink and washed the detritus down the drain. Cautiously he took a breath through his nose. Safe.

Well, he still had an unopened bottle left, and now he was determined that the wicked little weasel of a fairy was not going to deprive him of a well-deserved nightcap. Although the bottle had been securely sealed all the while Puck was in the house, when he opened it, it reeked just as badly. So did the one bottle of beer he had left in the refrigerator. So did his cough syrup. In fact everything in the house which contained alcohol smelled like the concentrated scum at the bottom of a dumpster.

* * * * * *

Dash kicked the door open, picked up the grocery bags, and lugged them inside. Another week's supply, but this time it was lighter, not to mention cheaper, than usual because of that damned Puck. After he put everything away, he opened his remaining bottle of bourbon again and took a tentative sniff. Phew! "Damn you, Puck!" Saying it aloud made him feel better. He hadn't been able to drink a drop since the little jackass put the spell on him. At first he had thought it was just the whiskey in the house, but any alcohol in any product anywhere smelled just as bad - indoors or out. At the bar this weekend, no other nostrils but his noticed any problems.

After he finished putting away the first sack, he cried, "God damn you, Puck!" Adding to and embroidering the cursing changed nothing. Even the basic, repetitive nature of the thought was starting to lose its impact. He sighed. At least he felt better now. He was embarrassed by how badly he had felt the first two days he couldn't drink. Self deception is so easy, but now he realized he had been drinking way too much. Marcy or no, he had to get on with his life.

Just as he was about to finish, there was a knock at the door. "Crap," he said to himself. It was the first expletive to come to mind. Most of the others seemed to have lost their power in the last few days. The knock came again. "Yeah, just a second," he called. He stuck the milk in the refrigerator. If it was that damned fairy again, he would punt him right off the porch. Grabbing the knob, he jerked the door open, forcefully said, "Yeah?" and gaped in surprise at his neighbor. "Mrs. Westfall?" he said a little uncertainly. Then he remembered the gruff way he had answered the door. "Oh, I'm sorry," he said making sure he sounded sufficiently apologetic. "I thought it was someone else." 

At least he was pretty sure it was Mrs. Westfall. She and her husband lived only about a half mile down the road, but Dash had only met her once six months ago when he had first moved in. The cabin had been in his family for years, but he had only visited occasionally before. Although he had not seen her since, he had not forgotten the older woman's striking good looks.

Now, however, her curly blond hair was disheveled below the Kentucky Wildcats ball cap on her head. She had on an old flannel shirt and jeans which did a good job of concealing the curves of her trim figure, but he scarcely noticed. He was caught by her eyes. Her wide-eyed stare accentuated the beginning crinkles which would become crow's feet, but her dilated irises made her eyes look almost black.

"I need a man," she moaned and leaned in and captured his mouth with hers.

In helpless surprise, he let her kiss him for a long minute before he pulled away. She moaned again in frustration and tried to return to the kiss. He held her arms until she looked at him. "Mrs. Westfall, are you okay?" Of course she was not okay, or she would never have attacked him like this, but it was all he could think of to say.

"Don't send me away." She looked at him beseechingly. "Please. I've never felt this way before, and I need... " At first she looked embarrassed, but then the wanton yearning returned to her eyes. "I need to be fucked!" She pulled him into another kiss, her tongue exploring. The bill of her baseball cap bumped against his forehead, and as she pressed against him, the cap fell to the floor.

Dash felt a pull of attraction. Damn it, it had been too long since he had had a woman, and now here was his attractive neighbor offering herself too him. A sudden suspicion blossomed. He pushed her away again, and she groaned at the break in contact. "Mrs. Westfall." When she did not immediately respond, he shook her arms and repeated, "Mrs. Westfall!" Finally she looked at him and actually appeared to see him. "Listen," he said. "Did you see..." For a moment he found himself hesitant to speak his hunch aloud, but he had to ask. "Did you see a little man, a fairy?"

The words seemed to penetrate. "Yes," she started hesitantly, "there was someone... Or something? I thought I was just imagining it. You said it was a fairy?"

Puck. The little fairy had wanted Dash to sober up; had he also decided to take care of his celibate life? Dash was angry about the unwanted cure from drinking, but he was hard pressed to find a reason to be upset about the beautiful Mrs. Westfall.

The woman looked back at him with those dark eyes. "Please?" she asked one more time. Her eyes were pleading too. "And my name is Jennifer." This time she reached up with her right hand and undid a button of her flannel shirt. Dash watched as she undid another. After the third button, it was obvious she did not have on a bra.

Dash had been without a woman too long, and the first sight of the gentle curve of her right breast wiped all other thoughts from his mind. "Let's go to my bedroom." He gestured, and by the time they got there, she had her flannel shirt unbuttoned and untucked, and she flipped it onto the chair by the door. Her body was slim and tight, but she had bent over to remove her shoes, and for the moment he couldn't see all of her breasts - but the curve of her ass in her jeans promised more.

She looked back at him, and Dash realized he was still standing at the door watching her undress. "Hurry," she said. "I need you."

It had been a long time since Dash had been needed, and that pushed him over the line. He kicked off his loafers at the same time he went to work on his shirt buttons. Mrs. Westfall, - no, Jennifer he reminded himself - pushed down her jeans then pivoted and sat down on the bed to pull them off.

She stood back up and pirouetted so Dash could look at her whole body. "Like what you see?" She was lithe and trim. Her breasts were not large, but they were firm and nicely placed on her chest. Large, darkish pink areola crowned her bust, and her thumb-sized nipples were fully erect.

Feeling awkward, Dash rushed to remove his clothes as quickly as he could. Thankfully he managed to get his pants off without tumbling to the floor. As soon as he was fully naked, Jennifer turned away and crawled onto the bed. Wantonly she spread her legs showing him her sex which was dark red with arousal. "Take me," she said. "Take me now!"

Early on his prick had responded to the woman, and now that it was freed from his underwear, it swayed in front of him pointing the way to the bed. Jennifer fixed her eyes on it. "God, it's big. I want that in me so bad." She scooted back on the bed to give him room.

It may have been a long time, but Dash had no need to think. The gloriously nude body of his neighbor drew his iron-hard cock like a magnet. She whimpered a little in anticipation as he put his knee on the bed, but he was not listening. Her warm moist center drew him on, and the moment the head of his cock touched the opening of her vagina she thrust upwards with her hips.

Dash had always loved the first sliding, gliding sensation as his prick sank inside a woman for the first time, and he reveled in the sensation now. God, he had missed this. She was wet and ready for him, and he sank in effortlessly. He pushed in until their bellies met, and he held himself there for a moment.

She thrust against him, impatient. "Oh god, I'm almost there!" she cried. "Come on! Fuck me hard."

He could feel her inner walls clamping in slippery spasms on his cock. It was as if her whole cunt were trying to milk an orgasm from him. There was no contest. He felt the first wave of his climax surge down the length of his cock.

He gasped for breath, but she was gasping, trusting, and panting right along with him. "Oh, yes!" she said. "Cum with me. Cum with... " Her voice trailed off into little inarticulate cries.

Pulse after pulse, Dash felt the exquisite agony of release. He cried out right along with her until they both collapsed together. His leg was at an awkward angle, and he shifted, exhaling as a wave of relaxation swept over him.

Laying there in stunned silence, Dash lost track of time. Eventually he became aware of the other body next to his. Jennifer lay beside him breathing softly, but occasionally he heard what might have been a sob. He levered himself up to look at her. She saw him looking at her and rolled over to embrace him.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," she whispered. "I just don't do this kind of thing. I mean, I love my husband, and..."

Dash propped himself up on his elbow and looked down at her. A small tear had formed in the corner of her eye, and he dabbed it away with a finger. "Don't be sorry," he said. "You couldn't help it. It was Puck."

"You said that before, but, uh... I wasn't exactly listening, was I?" She sniffed and wiped a finger across her nose. "Excuse me, but I have to blow my nose." She rolled to the side of the bed and pulled a tissue from the box that sat there. Once the chore was done, she turned back towards him. "Puck? You mean like Shakespeare's Puck?"




Midsummer-Night's Dreaming Ch. 03



"I'm afraid so." Dash nodded, but then flopped back against the pillow. "At least that's how he introduced himself to me the other day."

Now Jennifer lay back flat on the bed and looked at the ceiling. "I sort of remember seeing a little man standing on the bookcase, and I felt... saw... I don't know. There was some kind of sparkly stuff, then all of a sudden all I could think of was having a man. I've never felt like that before." She paused a moment. "I think I remember him saying your name."

"I wish I could tell you this all makes sense, but I have no idea what's going on. This little guy walks in out of the blue the other night, says he's Puck, and wants me to help him."

"Help him?" she asked. "What could you do to help a fairy?"

Dash turned his head towards her and smiled a little sheepishly. "I sort of missed that part. I was not exactly in the best of shape that night." He sighed and put his arm behind his head. "He called me a 'drunken sot,' puffed something in my face, and suddenly anything with alcohol in it smells worse than the bottom of a cesspit."

Talking about that night made Dash remember the other part of the conversation. "I sort of remember telling him I'd help him if he'd fix me up with a fairy nymph or something." He frowned. "He went off on quite a diatribe about how that would be a fate worse than death for a mortal - or something like that." He turned to look at her again. "Maybe he got the idea I needed a woman and corralled you into it. I'm sorry."

She waved him off. "Magic or not, I was ripe for a fall. Miles is a good man, and I don't want to cheat on my husband, but..."

"But here you are."

"No, I'm not here. This never happened. Right?" She looked at him intently.

Evidently Jennifer was having second thoughts. Dash sighed to himself and said, "I can live with that. I guess." He paused. "If I have to."

"You have to. This will never happen again."

She relaxed back against the pillow, and Dash tried to keep his eyes on the ceiling to avoid embarrassing her any more. However his peripheral vision strained to trace the curves of her well-toned figure. He was very aware of the heat radiating from her body next to his.

Suddenly he felt a stealthy movement, and her fingers grazed against the side of his hip. He turned towards her and saw she was looking at him intently. "This will never happen again, will it?" she said.

"No," he said hating himself for promising not to do something he most assuredly wanted to do again.

"Good," she said. "Then since there will just be this once..." Her fingers trailed down the side of his hip and came back up to trace the edges of his pelvic bone. "Maybe it wouldn't matter if it went on a little longer."

Her finger circled back across his lower stomach coming close to his public hair. Suddenly she rose up, leaned over, and sucked his now limp cock into her mouth. She swirled it with her tongue then released it to move up to his face. "Kiss me a little before we have to stop, will you?"

He tasted a hint of their combined juices on her lips, and her tongue probed between his teeth. She insistently sucked at his lips while their tongues tangled teasing as much sensation out of the kiss as possible.

She backed off and smiled. "The best of never, huh?"

Dash pulled her back into a kiss that seemed to go on forever. When she relaxed back against the pillow after they broke apart, Dash traced the lines of her face with his finger. When he got to the tip of her nose, she reached up with her tongue to touch it. He had meant to run his finger completely around her lips, but after he'd traced her upper lip, she captured his finger with her mouth. That led to another prolonged kiss, but this time they both stroked each other's bodies while they kissed.

Jennifer's tight, firm breasts fascinated Dash. He stroked he flesh gently avoiding the sensitive nipples. Already they stood up begging for attention, but he rubbed the pads of his fingers gently across the under sides. She laid back and hummed her approval when he started paying attention to her chest, but as he systematically avoided the turgid, sensitive tips, she started to whimper. Dash, however, continued to tease - on and on, gently, firmly, but never satisfying her straining nipples. Finally she broke the kiss. "Come on, damn it! Touch me. I can't stand it."

He smiled to himself. Leaning forward he sucked one nipple into his mouth while he reached with his hand for her other breast. He pinched her one nipple lightly with his fingers while he squeezed the other gently with his teeth.

The results were unexpected. Her legs jerked, and she cried out. "Unh! Nuh!" She gasped for air, and her legs spasmed again. She wet rigid for a moment, then she exhaled heavily and relaxed into the bed. "I don't believe it," she finally said when she had recovered her breath. "You made me cum just by touching my nipples. Where did you learn that?"

Not with Marcy, Dash thought to himself. Out loud he said, "I just sort of made it up as I went. I tried to play off the signals you were sending."

She rubbed her eyes with her hands then turned towards him. "So what kind of signals are you sending?" She smiled and reached down to his belly. Her smile broadened when she found his revived cock. She gripped his member, and leaned over to give him a kiss on his mouth. "I'm so glad to see you are back in the party."

"Never left," he said. "You kept me in the game."

She laughed, dipped her head, and took him into her warm mouth. He felt her tongue flicking back and forth across his frenum. "Oh, my," he said.

She looked up. "I don't get to do this much. It's fun."

"You do it well," he returned. "REALLY well." He couldn't bear the thought that this would be their only time. He gave a mental sigh and tried to remember every wiggle and waggle of her tongue on his cock. Since he had just had an orgasm, he was able to relax and just enjoy the sensations as they came.

Her back was within reach, so he started stroking her body down to her waist. She shifted around a little, and he could reach her butt. His fingers explored both the hillocks and the valley, and she shifted again to give him more room down in the valley.

He had an idea, and tugged on her leg. "Get on top of me so I can do you too."

She took her mouth off him for a moment and looked back. "This will be another first."

In a moment she had settled in place. Dash smushed a pillow up behind his head to support himself at a comfortable angle. She flinched at the first touch of his tongue, but she sank back down and let him slide his tongue up and down her slit. Her clitoris was not particularly prominent, and he had to probe a bit before he found it. He fished one hand up near his face and used two fingers two gently separate her outer lips so his tongue had better access.

They settled into an easy 69 for a time, but Dash noticed after a few minutes Jennifer started to press harder into his tongue. He decided the time was right, and he went to work vibrating his tongue back and forth across her little bud. She gasped and reared up off his cock. Dash paused then lashed out with his tongue again bringing another exclamation from her. Another pause, and a third time. A fourth. She shrieked out her release and her legs clamped tightly around his head.

After a time, she relaxed, and Dash made his move. Her head lay on his cock, but that was not enough. No, he was fully aroused now, and he wanted more. Gently he rolled her off from on top and slid free. He reversed himself on the bed and nuzzled up for a kiss. Jennifer looked at him a bit dazed, but then she put her arms around him and kissed back. Dash eased himself between her legs and easily found her opening with the end of his cock. She was soaking wet, and he entered her effortlessly.

"Mmm," she moaned against mouth, then she pulled back a little to say, "I like that idea."

"I thought you might," he responded and took a stroke. She pushed back against him. He buried his cock in her to the hilt, but instead of starting immediately to fuck her, he held himself there and kissed her.

She squeezed at him with the muscles of her vagina and gave an impatient little push with her hips. "Oh, god. Don't tease. Not now," she gasped. "I need you to do me hard. Just a little more..."

Her sentence trailed off into unintelligible gasps of joy as Dash suddenly started to stroke rapidly driving his cock in and out of her slick chamber. Not only had Jennifer fully revived his erection, he could feel the delightful rising tension in his own loins that meant another orgasm was coming. He increased his tempo, and she matched him stroke for stroke. In a moment they were both gasping together. Dash admired the lovely woman he was fucking and watched as a deep red flush spread from her face down across the chest. The upwelling explosion of his orgasm forced him to cry out loud. He felt Jennifer's pussy clasping and tugging at his cock as he went over the top. She joined him wailing out her release.

They stayed there side by side - not moving - sated. Dash, while not asleep, lay there deep in reverie. He had not been with a woman since Marcy, and now Jennifer had reminded him how much he had missed the physical intimacy of a relationship. For the first time in the months since Marcy had left with little Isabel he felt like he was alive again.

Jennifer stirred beside him. She seemed embarrassed now that her lusts were satisfied, and she got up and dressed quickly. Dash sighed and rolled of the bed to find his clothes. She didn't look at him while she put on her clothes, but he watched as she quickly covered her fine looking body. He sighed to himself again.

Finally Jennifer turned to him. "Mr. Ressel, uh, Dash, I..." She looked down shyly until he had finished pulling up his pants before she went on. "I really want to thank you for this afternoon. I mean it. I really enjoyed it. However..."

"Yeah," Dash said. "It can never happen again. You made that clear. But, holy smoke, if you ever get that kind of an urge again..."

She smiled. "I know where to find you," she finished. "She smiled and leaned forward and kissed him chastely on the cheek. "Thanks again for a really wonderful afternoon." Without even a backward glance, she turned and showed herself out.

After Jennifer had left, Dash stood in his bedroom and stared out at the cabin door which she had closed decisively behind her. Finally he roused himself and pulled on his shirt. "Well, this was a memorable day," he muttered to himself. He went back to the kitchen and finished putting away the three cans of soup still sitting on the counter. Whisking the three plastic sacks into a ball he tossed them over his shoulder at the wastebasket. Score! He raised his arms in triumph.

Okay, now what? He saw his laptop open on the table beside his writing chair. Well, there was that prospectus he had to get in the mail by the end of the week... He plopped down in the chair and retrieved the computer. Hunting up his "Current Projects" folder, he noticed the folder labeled "Deadman's Float" and paused. That was a screenplay he had abandoned some time ago, but now he had a sudden thought. Instead of the intruder murdering the hero's girl friend, what if the girl friend killed the intruder. Then the hero could get involved in the coverup... The plot threads of the idea spun out in his mind and he opened the folder.

There was a knock at the door. Dash looked around and realized it was evening. He'd been writing all afternoon. "Huh, first time that had happened in a long time," he thought. Before he could finish the sentence he had been working on, the knock came again. "All right. Hold on," he called. He felt a flush of anticipation. Could Jennifer have changed her mind already?

With that thought he got out of the chair quickly. He pulled open the door, but there was no one there - then he looked down. Oh, shit. Puck. "What do you want?" he said.

The little man gave a happy laugh and skipped through the door into Dash's living room. "I thought you would be happy to see me," he said. He took off the little green hat he wore and swept it across his body as he bowed deeply. "Now that little Puck has fixed your problems, you can fix mine."

"Maybe I liked my problems." Dash went back to his chair and sat down.

Puck looked at him slyly. "So your time with Mrs. Westfall was not satisfactory?"

"Uh," was all he could manage because he was caught with conflicting emotions. He wanted to berate the fairy for interfering in his life, but at the same time he wanted to kiss the ground at his feet for giving him the most memorable sex he had had in years. Finally Dash just settled on the last part of Puck's statement. "You want help? With your fairy powers, what kind of help can you get from me?"

"Ah, fairy powers are wondrous indeed, but for this task I need your powers of the pen."

"Pesh..." Dash waved dismissively. "My powers of the pen are not so hot lately. I haven't sold anything in quite a while. My agent is threatening to drop me..." His protest petered out when Puck hopped up to the arm of the chair and stood there shaking his head. "What do you mean, no?" Dash asked.

"So," Puck looked at him smugly, "what have you been doing all afternoon?"

"I, ah..." and Dash realized he did not remember a thing about the afternoon because he had fallen so deeply into the story, the words had flowed in a river. "So you think you've fixed my writing, huh? Well even if you have, why should I write for you? Do you pay standard rates?"

"With the help I have already given you - and don't roll your eyes at me, Mr Ressel," scolded Puck, "you should be more than will to help. But I will give you one more reason. Your little valley here is under a grievous threat."

"You mean the outfit that wants to do that fracking thing upstream in the valley? I've heard about that."

"Exactly so." The little fairy bounced down to a seated position on the arm of Dash's chair.

"Well, that's not that bad, is it?" Dash asked. He'd heard that new restrictions had helped limit the damage done in other places. There would be some water pollution at first, but the EPA would make sure no permanent harm was done.

"Ah, but they will be, as you might say, 'fucking with the fracking' right in the middle of one of the major waypoints to the world of Fairie."

Dash frowned. "You said something about that before. Something about down in the depths?"

"You were listening!" Puck exclaimed. "Yes, there are exactly twelve waypoints to Fairie equally spaced around this globe."

"Twelve equally spaced?" The statement triggered something down in the depths of Dash's memory. At one time he had written several articles about topics in recreational mathematics. "Like the faces of a dodecahedron? Twelve faces, each a regular, five-sided pentagon?" Another thought intruded. "Connect the vertices of a pentagon and you have a pentacle, and all that witchcraft stuff."

Puck studied him for a moment. "Perhaps you are not as thick as I thought." He nodded. "Well then, most of the waypoints are over water - eight to be exact. One of the points that opens onto land does so precisely at the south pole."

"Not terribly useful?" Dash offered somewhat sarcastically.

"More inconvenient than anything, Your valley has the only waypoint on this continent."

"Huh," Dash said skeptically. "I've never seen any comings and goings of strange creatures - present company excluded, of course."

"Most of Fairie do not have access to your world, and it is a good thing too. The little fairy sprites, like me," Puck gave a little bow, "come and go as we please. We are the communicators with your world."

"Where you cause as much trouble as possible."

Puck glowered at him. "It is not trouble we seek, just entertainment." A sly smile traced across his face. "I will admit, however, we are entertained by things somewhat differently than humans."

"I'll bet."

Paying no attention, Puck continued. "Now nymphs, huldra, mermaids, sirens - these all dwell in the next lower level. They can appear in your world when there is need, but usually they cannot stray far from a waypoint." He paused a moment then went on in a hushed tone. "The deeper you go into Fairie, the less access there is to your world, and you should be glad. Even residents of the other levels of Fairie do not have dealings with the Deep Ones."

"Okay," Dash said. "We've got a gateway, uh, a waypoint right here in River City. What has that got to do with fracking?" Puck looked at him with a puzzled expression. "Okay, forget the pop culture reference," Dash said. "What is the problem?"

"A man named Seth Hawk is leading a project which has obtained the right to drill for gas in the valley - by fracking." The fairy said the word with obvious distaste.

"So? Other than the mess you might get on your shoes as you come and go, what's the problem?"

"The problem is, my dear Mr. Ressel, I fear the fracking process applied at the waypoint will open the way to your world for much of what should stay in Fairie."

Dash took a moment to think about this. The little fairy certainly seemed serious, but this was Puck, the trickster. Most likely he was setting him up to be the butt of some colossal joke. What was Puck's punch line? "Bogeymen and things that go bump in the dark?" he asked.

The fairy frowned and got to his feet and began to pace the arm of his chair. "You are not taking this seriously, but you should. You must."

"Yeah, okay. It's serious," Dash said unconvinced, but he wanted to move the conversation along. "What do you want me to do, and why should I do it?"

Puck looked at him skeptically. "I wish you to lend your skills as a writer to help sway opinion against Hawk's project. Now that I've been able to spend more time in your world, I've found that you must make the dirt expand to get anything done."

The last phrase blew right past Dash. Dirt? Like the ground expand? Then it hit him. "Oh, you mean you have to get a ground swell of public opinion on your side to stop the project."

"That's what I said."

Puck's eyes were menacing, and Dash reminded himself he was dealing with a creature who had the power to make booze smell like cat shit and turn a neighbor woman into a nymphomaniac. Who knew what else he might be able to do? That triggered off another thought. "Why couldn't you just magic him out of the picture?"

With a sigh Puck sat back down on the arm of the chair. "In the old days that would have done it, right enough. Now, however, we are dealing with Hawk Enterprises, Incorporated, and I do not know how to enspell an organization of that size." He sighed in frustration.

"So you think if I write letters to the EPA, Sierra Club, and those kind of groups I can get his project stopped?" He gave a little snort. "You are surely overestimating my powers of persuasion. What you need is a good lawyer to file writs, and habeas corpuses, and all that legal stuff." The memory of what Marcy's lawyer had done to him in their divorce settlement still rankled.

"Ah! See, this is why you must help me." Puck bounced back to his feet. "A Lawyer. Yes, that is what we need on our team."

"Wait a minute," Dash said. "What team? I haven't agreed to any of this. I have to work for a living. I have to write stuff I can sell for money. I can't afford to do this!"

"And how much have you sold lately?"

Somewhere between jack and shit was the answer, but Dash was too proud to admit it. "I still have some money coming in from stuff I've done before." Half of it anyway. Marcy got the other half. "My agent has had trouble getting people to read my latest stuff."

"This would be the Sam Brownsworth who has recently taken on eight new clients?" Puck looked smug.

"Yeah, he's been shopping my screenplays to... Wait. Did you say eight new clients?" This was news to Dash. Maybe Brownie hadn't been working as hard for him as he had claimed. Then another thought occurred to him. "How do you know this stuff anyway?"




Midsummer-Night's Dreaming Ch. 03



Now obviously smug, Puck said, "I like to know my partners." He held his hands up and shrugged. "Before I approached you, I looked into your life."

"Well, you should have been able to tell I'd make a lousy partner."

"On the contrary," Puck said, "your talents are exactly what I need." He turned away, but looked back over his shoulder and smiled. "And, yes, you will be rewarded."

* * * * * *

Puck had left that night once he was satisfied with their agreement, but Dash was exhausted. The fairy had been mercurial through the whole discussion, and many time Dash felt as if he was skating on the edge of receiving another of Puck's magical tantrums. It was as much a treaty as a contract, but Dash agreed to produce a series of articles about the need to maintain the ecological purity of the valley for local publicity. He also would write a series of appeals to a long list of environmental groups, from the American Bird Conservancy to the Wilderness Society, to enlist them in the cause. Puck had not mentioned a dollar figure, for Dash's help but at that point, Dash did not want to get into a debate over numbers.

Happily Dash found he could now write as easily as in his pre-divorce days when his words had just flowed. While he did a lot of work for Puck, he made considerable progress on two other projects he had already started. He also began the work of looking for a new agent, but what really gave Dash hope was the number of new ideas that popped into his head for short stories, articles, screen plays - all sorts of new works. In fact he set aside time after supper each evening to start a file of notes of project ideas, characters, plot concepts, and anything else that had come to him while he had worked on other things during the day.

Ten days after Puck's visit, right in the middle of one of his evening note taking sessions, there was a knock at the door. Dash looked up from his computer and sighed. He hadn't seen Puck since the night of their agreement, and he didn't need the aggravation tonight. He went back to work.

A moment later there was another knock at the door, and this one was louder and more prolonged. "Yeah, give me a minute," Dash called. He closed his laptop and got to his feet. "I don't need this," he muttered to himself. He opened the door. A woman stood smiling on his porch. She was almost as tall as Dash, attractive with a dark complexion and long dark hair. She wore a down vest over a flannel shirt which hid her figure, but her blue jeans tucked into bright red Doc Martens showed her legs were long and slim.

Puck had sent him another woman. Ridiculous. "I really don't need this," he said to her and slammed the door. He hadn't taken one step back towards his chair when the door reverberated with a heavy thud. Then another. And another. The door jumped in its frame with each blow from her heavy boots.

"Open up, you jackass! Open this mother-fuckin' door before I kick it in and beat on your skinny little ass." Dash hesitated torn between the demands of courtesy and fear of the tigress outside. "Damn it," she continued, "Puck said you could be thick headed, but I'll stick my can of mace up your butt if you don't open this God." Kick. "Damned!" Kick. "Door!!" Kick. Kick.

Cautiously, Dash eased the door open, timing it between kicks. She stood on his porch glowering at him. "Puck?" he asked cautiously.

The woman took a breath, smiled sweetly at him, and extended a card she took from a breast pocket. "Maria Ramirez, attorney at law, and at your service, Mr. Ressel. May I come in?"

Dash looked stupidly at the card. It had her name followed by a bunch of letters he didn't bother to try to puzzle out, but what caught his attention was the Washington DC address. He looked up at her. "You're from Washington?"

"And I'm here to help - yeah, that old line." She picked up a briefcase beside her and pushed past him into the cabin. "If we are going to fight this whole fracking deal, we're going to need help from at least three government agencies, maybe more - not to mention the courts. Time to bring in the big guns." She looked back at Dash who stood there speechless holding the door. "Well? Are we going to get to work?"

Carefully, Dash closed the door as his thought processes began to catch up with the situation, and he thought of an immediate concern. "Look, I could use some help on this, but there is no way I can afford to pay a lawyer."

"Don't worry, Mr. Ressel," she said retrieving her card from his hand, "that's all taken care of. Our firm does a yearly quota of 'pro-bono' work, and you and the good fairy are the beneficiaries."

"Your firm approved pro-bono work on behalf of Puck?"

For the first time she appeared a little uncertain. "Although I responded to his initial request, all of my work will be done on behalf of the Sager Valley Protection Committee, a tax-exempt organization created for the sole purpose of protecting the environment in the Sager Valley aquifer." She finished with a nod of confidence then looked around. "This is your base of operations?"

Immediately defensive, Dash said, "This cabin has been in our family for years, and yes, I'm living here now."

"Okay," she said slowly still looking around. Finally she took off her vest and tossed it at the couch. "Let's see what you've got, big guy, and I'll show you where I'm taking this on the legal end."

For the next hour they poured over the preliminary work they had both done. Maria was coolly professional, and Dash tried to match her businesslike approach. He asked her to call him Dash, and she smiled distantly and called him, "Mr. Ressel." However, Dash's lizard brain couldn't help but notice the thin, sharply lined planes of her face and lovely eyes. Her lustrous long dark hair caught the light as she pulled it back from her face. She had on jeans and a flannel shirt, but the jeans fit her like a glove and had swirls of elaborate embroidery - Levi Strauss had never designed anything like this. The flannel shirt, too, was tailored and trimmed in that understated way that said, "money." Dash sighed to himself. Maria was and extremely attractive woman, but her darkly dramatic eyes, while not quite contemptuous, were definitely chilly. Plus, he had already seen her temper. Dash matched her coolly professional pose.

Finally Maria stood up, picked up her organized stack of folders, and put them in her brief case. "Well, let's wrap this up for tonight. I have to check in to my hotel room by 8:00, but we can get back at it tomorrow."

"Where are you planning to stay?"

She speared him with a glance that seemed to challenge his right to know, but she said, "Marshfield. I've got a room at the Marriot."

"Okay," Dash said, "but that's about a two-hour drive from here."

"Two hours? Bullshit!" Maria pulled out her cell phone and with a few deft flips of her thumb, she held up a map. "Marshfield. Fifteen miles."

Dash smiled. "Check the drive time. It's on the other side of Indian Ridge. The most direct way is about sixty miles, and most of that is back roads where you can't make any time." She went back to the phone, but Dash went on. "Did you come in through Wilsonville?"

She nodded absently.

"Did you see Cecil's Motor Hotel?"

Now Maria looked at him. "Yeah. Sort of, anyway." She made a face. "But that's an hour away and it didn't look..."

"Cecil is about as good as it gets around here. You'd better get started, too, because it will take even longer on these winding country roads after dark."

She sighed. "Well, shit, fuck, and ass-boogers!"

Ass-boogers? Dash made a mental note to use that in a story sometime. "Look, Ms Ramirez, if you really need a place to stay, I've got an extra bedroom." He held up his hands at her dark look. "Yeah, yeah. I hear you already, but if you need a place to stay, it's got a better mattress than Cecil's Hot-Sheet Hotel, and we will have more time to work during the day. No tricks." She was still scowling at him, so he added, "...and that will get your pro-bono work done all the quicker."

"Show me," she said finally.

The spare room was spare. Dash used it to store some of his files and some other unneeded junk, but it had a bed - and a door that locked. He took a couple of boxes of stuff out to the shed to make more room after Maria agreed to stay. "One thing you do have to do," he said and rushed to finish the thought before she bit his head off, "you have to go get your own groceries. I've got enough on hand to last me through the weekend when I go to the Food-Boy in Wilsonville, but if you are going to eat here, you've got to get your own food."

Since there was only one bathroom, they had to make a few awkward compromises, but Maria settled in - grudgingly, perhaps, but settle she did. The next day she pounded on Dash's bedroom door early in the morning. "Hey, I want to go running. Where should I go?"

"How far are you going?" he called as he rolled out of bed. He pulled on his robe, ran his fingers through his hair, and opened the door. She stood there with her slim, brown legs revealed below her fluorescent green running shorts and her ample breasts blunted beneath a bright red jog-bra. Her midriff was bare, and Dash thought her navel winked at him but decided he was still fuzzy with sleep.

She pointed at the GPS unit on her wrist. "This is my day for a ten-mile run. What's good?"

"Stay off the highway. Some of the local yahoos think it's great sport to chase runners into the ditch." She made a face. "Yeah," he said, "but that's the way it is. You could drive back to Wilsonville and run in their park, but I usually just run up the Sager Trace. There's a connection to the main tail just down the road from the end of the drive."

"You run too?" she asked showing the first bit of personal curiosity about him.

"I used to run a lot, but I got away from it for a while." Yeah, he thought, while I tried to drink himself into oblivion over Marcy, it was a little hard to get up and out in the morning. "Lately I've been trying to get back into it." He yawned. His butt itched, but he refrained from scratching in front of her. "I'll slip over and do about a mile after bit. You can't get lost. Just follow the sign to the Trace and turn right."

She went out the door without another word, and Dash got himself around for his run. About twenty minutes later he trotted down the gravel track from the cabin to the road. He settled into a comfortable pace and enjoyed the morning scenery. Around a curve in the trail he spotted a flash of fluorescent green and a few strides later he saw Maria sitting on the trail clutching her right ankle.

He stopped beside her and looked down. "Trouble?"

"No," she snapped. "I was just admiring a tamias straitus along the side of the path." She looked at him darkly still holding her ankle.

"The chipmunk didn't bite you did it?"

For a moment she looked at him appraisingly, then she gestured at her leg. "I rolled my ankle," she said in more normal tones.

"Let me see." Dash bent down beside her. Her ankle looked a little puffy. He gestured towards it with his hand. "May I?" he asked and waited for her to allow him to touch it. She nodded, and he prodded it gently noticing her wince. "Looks like a sprain, and I'll bet it hurts."

"I don't suppose the EMS makes runs out here."

"Did you hear that, Chip?" Dash said addressing an imaginary chipmunk at the edge of the wood. "I think Ms. Ramirez is being ironic." He stood up and offered her a hand. "I'm afraid I'm as good as you are going to get. Let me help get you back to the cabin."

He saw her hesitation before she reached out and took his hand. After he pulled her to her feet, she tentatively put a little weight on her right foot. "I can't walk on this," she said.

Sighing to himself for what could happen next, he said, "Lean on me. Let me take some of the weight, and we'll get you back to the cabin." She looked at him but didn't move. "Look," he said. "I could go back to the cabin for my car, but I can't get it onto the trail at all. Either let me help you," he couldn't repress a little smile, "or crawl."

She put a hand on his shoulder and took a careful step and winced. "Here," he said moving in to put his shoulder under her arm. "Put your hand on my other shoulder and put your weight on me." They both adjusted things until they managed a joint hobbling motion down the trail. "Sort of like the old three-legged race at the county fair, huh?" Dash quipped.

Maria said nothing, but Dash was ever so aware of her body where she leaned and bumped against him. He could smell her as well as feel her. Her skin was moist with perspiration, and she had a light, musky scent. Dash forced himself to concentrate on matching her steps so she didn't stumble on her injured ankle. "Don't think of her as a woman," he told himself - but it was an impossible task.

There was no traffic on the road, and they hobbled across towards the mailbox. With one thing and another, he hadn't gotten the mail yesterday, and he retrieved it now while Maria leaned on the mailbox. Dash caught motion out of the corner of his eye, and he looked down the road to where Jennifer was putting out the Westfall's trash for pickup. He tentatively raised his hand to wave hoping to catch her eye if she looked this way, but she never did. Disappointed Dash turned back to find Maria looking at him closely. "What?" he said.

"Who was that?"

Dash looked back down the road. Jennifer had disappeared. "Just the neighbor lady." He held the mail in his one hand while he took Maria's arm, and they started up the drive to the cabin.

"Bull and shit," she stated baldly. "There was something there, wasn't there? You looked like a lost puppy there for a moment." Dash didn't say anything, and she probed again. "Too lonely up in the hills?"

"It wasn't anything like that," he stated.

"But there was something, wasn't there?"

Poking and prodding on the way back to the cabin and after, Maria gradually drew out the whole story of Puck's contact with him and the events that followed. She sat in his chair with her feet up while Dash filled two zippered freezer bags with ice. He wrapped a towel around her injured ankle and placed it on top of one of the bags then placed the other bag on top of her ankle. Her questioning continued the whole time, and by now she had dug into deeply into how Marcy had dumped him for her Pilates trainer and cut him off from contact with his daughter.

Finally Dash looked around and realized he had been sitting beside Maria for a long time pouring his heart out. Embarrassed, he realized he had been crying and wiped his face and snuffed his nose. "Sorry to go on so long like that." He snuffed again and stood up and sighed. "Guess you must be a real bear in the courtroom, huh?" he said with a weak little laugh.

"Cross Examination - 101." She looked down. "Look, Dash, I'm sorry I got carried away and pried into your personal affairs so deeply." She shrugged. "I guess sometimes I can't help myself."

"Nah, it's okay," he said. "How about I fix some breakfast? You want any of my raisin bran?" He did not fail to notice she had finally called him by his first name.

"That would be great, and I really am sorry."

Dash puttered around the kitchen getting the cereal ready and realized he felt better after spilling his guts all over Maria. "You know, if this lawyer thing doesn't work out, you could always get work as a therapist."

She blushed. "Thank you. I guess that's another field for the naturally nosey."

* * * * * *

Over the next two weeks they worked hard together on the Sager Valley project. Maria could do most of her work from the cabin, but twice she had to make the two-hour drive to Marshville, the county seat. In a few days the swelling in her ankle went away, and she started running again. She even allowed Dash to accompany her for the first part of her runs as he started to work himself back into shape.

Early one afternoon Maria was critiquing Dash's draft of a follow up piece to his article which had run a week ago in the Louisville Courier Journal when there was a knock at the door. Dash got up to answer it and found a tall, powerfully built middle-aged man standing there.

Before Dash could say a word, the man took Dash's hand in a firm grip. "Mr. Ressel? Seth Hawk here. I wanted to talk to you about those newspaper articles I've been seeing. Can I come in?" Without waiting for an answer he pushed his way into the cabin. As soon as he saw Maria, he said, "And Ms. Ramirez! So nice to see you again. I think the last time I saw you was at that Senate hearing advising a group of fisherman while they testified about their by-catch taken in the Gulf?" He dropped Dash's hand and went over to Maria where he took her hand in his, not to shake it, but to pull her closer so he could give her a hug. "I didn't know you were involved in this."

"Mr. Hawk," she said, "I'm surprised to see you in Kentucky."

He held her in the embrace too long before he released her and stepped back. "You shouldn't be. And, please - it's Seth. " Hawk said. "I always try to keep an eye on my projects - especially ones that generate controversy." He looked at Dash. "I especially wanted to meet the person who could stir up the Nature Conservancy that much." He finally let Maria out of his grasp, but he kept his attention focused on her. "Hey, I would like to see a little of this Sager Valley. My truck's right outside. How would you like to show me around?"

Dash could tell Hawk's 'you' did not include him. "Hey," he mocked Hawk's tone, "if Maria wants to show you around, go ahead. I've got some writing to get finished up."

Hawk turned to look at him, "Nothing to do with my project, I hope."

"Oh, no," Dash lied. "Just a screenplay I'm working on."

"A screenplay, huh? Hey, maybe if I can coax you to play ball with me, maybe I could run that by some people I know over at Universal Studios. We own a piece of them, you know." Dash hadn't known, but he wasn't about to trust Hawk with any of his work.

Hawk had the persuasive powers of a freight train, and within moments he had Maria out the door. Dash heard the doors slam, the engine start, and they were gone. "Well, wasn't that something?" he said out loud, but he did not give voice to the very real disappointment that Maria had been so easily swept away. Then again, she was a big girl as she had proved to Dash more than once.

He sat down with his laptop. He was really crafting a letter to the Environmental Defense Fund, but... The words wouldn't come. What had he been going to say? He got up and walked to the window and stared out into the forest beyond. He heard his clock chime, and suddenly he realized he had been standing there for fifteen minutes. Huh. Back to work. Calling up the letter he had sent the last time, he tweaked a few words then read the result. It still sounded like a form letter.

It was 5:00 before he heard the sound of the truck again. After the doors slammed, he heard them on the porch, then Maria led the way into the cabin. As they walked into the living area, Dash saw Hawk had his hand familiarly at Maria's waist.

"So what do you say, Maria," Hawk said, "will you think about joining our team?"

It didn't surprise Dash that Hawk had wasted no time in trying to break up their operation, however, the fact that he had waited to make the final offer until Dash was present, signaled to Dash that Hawk wanted Dash to know what a 'big, swinging dick' Hawk had.

Maria turned to Hawk and smiled. "I'm certainly impressed by the offer."

"Well, I've seen your work around Washington, and I have to admit I'm impressed. We certainly can offer you more than Halley, Smithe, and Rose - say 50% more?"

"Now that could really turn a girl's head," Maria said, but Dash detected a little warning simper in her tone. "But it really wouldn't be appropriate right now would it? I'm mean, we are going to be on opposite sides in court..."




Midsummer-Night's Dreaming Ch. 03



"Yes, but..." Hawk started to interrupt, but Maria continued right on.

"... And once I get you on the witness stand, I plan to feed you your tiny, tattooed testicles," she paused and gently tapped the tip of her index finger on Hawk's nose, "one ... at ... a ... time," poking at his nose in time with her words. She smiled sweetly and turned away. At the couch she sat down, crossed her legs, and held her knee with her hands - challenging him to say something.

Hawk stood there staring, and Dash saw the color rise up his neck until his whole face was flushed. Evidently he was a man used to getting his own way, because it took some time for him to find words, and then all he said was a weak, "Well, we will see then, won't we?" He turned on his heel abruptly, but he stopped at the door. "You two may think you're pretty cute." His tone was more aggressive now, and he shook his finger at them as if they were recalcitrant students. "My surveyors are coming in next week, and I'm coordinating between them and a whole platoon of consultants. Once we get their estimates of the value of our project in the hands of local governments, the local zoning and planning authorities will fall all over themselves to give us exactly what we want." He turned and wrenched the door open, but before he left, he said over his shoulder, "And by the time those egg-sucking, tree-huggers at the EPA get their thumbs out of their butts, we'll have half the site developed." He smiled and walked out the door.

After the door had closed behind him and the truck had left, Maria finally left her pose. She put both feet on the floor, leaned over to put her elbows on her knees and propped up her chin with her hands. She looked woefully at Dash. "I'm sorry you had to see that," she said.

"What?" Dash smiled. "Watching you verbally castrate Seth Hawk? You were wonderful."

She sighed and leaned back against the couch. "Yeah, I'm an elbows-out, kick-'em-in-the-nuts type of lawyer all right." She looked at Dash, but her eyes looked sad. "You know, there's actually a nice little girl down deep inside me somewhere, but I haven't seen much of her lately."

Dash did not know what to say. It was sort of like seeing a star baseball player who had just hit a home run apologize for winning the game. He finally said softly, "I don't know about that. I think I've caught a glimpse or two of that little girl."

She looked down at the floor. "You're just saying that because I haven't kicked you in the balls yet."

"Well, there is that," he said. Dash laid his laptop aside, got up, and walked to the window tying to think of what he wanted to say next. He had seen a softer side of Maria, and he really liked that part of her, but he could not read her present mood.

He glanced out the window and caught a glimpse of motion. He looked back outside, curious. There was some sort of strange light off in the darkest part of the woods to the left. He craned his neck. Some sort of luminous figure was walking among the trees. A woman. A glowing, naked woman - the most beautiful woman he had ever seen! He could not look away. He pressed his face to the window to get a better view.

Her perfectly proportioned limbs flowed in graceful motion, and her nude body was the perfect embodiment of womanhood. Exquisitely formed breasts with dark, erotically erect nipples moved easily to and fro as her full, rounded hips swayed gracefully side to side. Dash couldn't look away. He could scarcely breath, and he felt his cock engorging with arousal. So lush. So desirable. He had to have her. Too many clothes - he had to take them off.

Somebody pulled at his arm. He looked - Maria. He remembered her, but the nymph was waiting for him in the wood. He looked back to the window as he fumbled at the buttons of his shirt. In spite of Maria's tugging at his arm, he got his shirt off, and he unbuckled his pants. She said something to him, but he didn't understand. He started to drop his pants, but he remembered his shoes. Stooping, he flipped his loafers off, and they landed across the room. Now he was able to step out of his pants.

Naked. He was naked, and his cock stood out curving up and hard in front of him. Distracted by another pull at his arm, he saw - Maria, that was her name, and she was naked too. No! The nymph was his and his alone. He felt a moment of panic. She couldn't have her!

But Maria pulled him back away from the door. He stumbled over the edge of the carpet and went to his knees. Suddenly Maria was there forcing him back on to the floor. No, she didn't want the nymph, she wanted him. Dash struggled to look back over his shoulder towards the door - to where the nymph waited beyond.

Maria crawled up on top of him, "Dash! Dash!" She called his name - that was his name, wasn't it? He tried to get up, but she forced him back and down. She wriggled on top of him trying to hold him down, and he struggled until, suddenly, he felt - penetration! - as his cock slid into her body.

"Uh!" he cried, and while he was distracted, Maria took his chin in her hand and pulled his head away from the door and forced him to look at her.

"Dash! Dash! Look at me," she cried.

She kept pulling his head back forcing him to look up. Up. At - Maria. He locked eyes with her. She pushed down on him, and he felt his cock slide back into her. So good, but the nymph...

"Dash! Here, look at me..." she commanded.

Again she moved over him, and his cock stroked up into her body's slick, warm tunnel. Good, but... She pushed down again. And again. His eyes were locked to hers as she rode him. She smiled. "Yes, Dash. Look at me. I'm fucking you Dash. Doesn't it feel good?" She groaned and undulated against him, but she never broke eye contact. "Yes, fuck me Dash, and let me fuck you. Do you like me fucking you?"

She was fucking him. "Yes," he responded, his voice thick with lust. "Yes, fuck me just like that." His body trembled with urgency, and he could no longer wait. He grabbed her arms and pulled her to him. Kissing and licking, their mouths met, and Dash rolled over until she was under him. "Now," he said triumphantly, "I'm going to fuck you like you should be fucked." He thrust, and his cock moved deliciously inside of her. "Yes! And again, and uh!" He pushed his cock into her again, then again, and suddenly his climax overwhelmed him. With inarticulate little cries, he pistoned in and out of her body until he exploded into an incredible climax.

Fingers stroked through his hair and Dash roused himself from his post-coital stupor. He looked down and saw Maria - below him - her face flushed and sweaty with exertion. Suddenly he realized she was impaled on his cock. His brain did not function while he stared at her beautiful face below him. At that point his body took over, and he made a last involuntary thrust up into her.

"Mmm," she moaned and closed her eyes.

Dash felt - love. Now his mind caught up with events, he realized what had happened. The nymph. He had seen the nymph. He would now be in her thrall except... Except, Maria had saved him. Instead of the nymph, he had spent himself inside of Maria. He looked at her face, quiet and serene below him.

He eased himself down and kissed her softly on the lips. She returned the kiss and wrapped her arms up around his neck. "I'm so sorry," he said. "Thank you so much. You saved me from..."

She opened her eyes and looked at him. "The nymph? Yes, Puck warned me about some of the dangers that could be involved with this job."

A powerful wave of embarrassment washed over him. "Maria, I really am sorry." He started to get up. She resisted for just a moment but then let him go. He scrambled to find his clothes suddenly mortified to be naked in front of her. For her part, Maria seemed much less body conscious. She sat up, reached out to her blouse, and pulled it on. Dash retreated to his bedroom where he pulled on his clothes. He stayed in there for a few minutes to give Maria a chance to get dressed.

When he finally had the nerve to go back to the living room, Maria wasn't there. He heard a noise and looked into the kitchen. She smiled at him. "Hey, want some spaghetti for supper? I feel like cooking."

She had dressed, and she clattered about in the kitchen as if nothing had happened. Dash sat down at the counter in front of the sink. "Look, Maria, I..."

"No," she said flatly. "Nope. Don't want to hear it." She dropped the ground beef into his skillet, and poked it into smaller pieces which began to sizzle. Finally she looked up at him. "So, did you get the letter to the EDF finished?"

They had a working supper discussing the contents of the EDF letter along with Maria's brief for the case she was filing with the EPA. Dash felt extremely awkward at first, but Maria's focus on their work drew him into the project, and beyond.

The clock struck, and Dash looked up - eleven o'clock. No wonder his eyes felt sandy. He closed his laptop and laid it aside. "I'm going to have to turn in. It's later than I realized."

Maria, hunched over her own computer, looked up. "You're right." She sighed, laid her computer on the table, and stretched. "Argh!" she cried as she released the stretch. "Tomorrow we file." She stood up and headed for the bathroom. Their unspoken arrangement gave Maria first rights to the facilities tonight.

Puttering in the kitchen cleaning up the remains of the supper dishes, Dash thought again about this afternoon, their unintended intimacy, and how totally Maria seemed to be able to dismiss the episode while they worked this evening.

After Maria finished, he took his turn in the bathroom to brush his teeth. He went into his bedroom and shut the door. Stripping down to his shorts, he slid into bed thinking about Maria lying in the bed just beyond the bedroom wall. The cabin was silent, but then he heard a noise - the bedroom door. Looking up he saw her standing beside the bed in a long nightshirt.

"How about letting me enjoy the good mattress?" she said. "Come on, shove over. The least you can do is let me sleep with you after I slept with you." In the dim light of the room he could see a small smile trace across her lips.

Torn by desire for the beautiful woman and terror at what it might mean for the future, he made room.

"Thanks," she said and crawled into bed. She pulled the covers around herself and settled in.

Dash lay there quietly, but his mind worked furiously. What should he do? What did she expect from him? She couldn't possibly expect to put their relationship back on a professionally platonic basis by sleeping with him. But did he dare touch her? She had saved him from the nymph's addictively attractive powers, but where did they go from here?

As Maria lay there beside him, Dash's mind wandered off into blind alleyways, and he fell asleep.

The dim light of dawn pervaded the room as he sleepily became aware of the woman cuddled in his arms. Her hair smelled good, and she was warm and comfortable against him. He took his hand from where it rested on her hip and brushed the hair back from her face with his fingers. Maria.

She stirred and snuggled closer. Dash responded by gathering her in his arms. It felt entirely natural. She nuzzled into the hollow between his neck and shoulder, and he lightly stroked her hair with his hand. After a minute she said, "This is exactly the way I wanted to wake up." He stroked her hair again, but now she moved away.

She sat up and stretched. "Ah!" she shook herself and plopped back down to the bed. "Hey, I've got to use the facilities, but don't go away." She turned to him, gave him a peck on the cheek, and bounced out of bed. The shirt clung to her closely, and Dash enjoyed the view of her rear as she walked out of the room. It reminded him of yesterday, but it also reminded him of the dilemma he faced about where their relationship was headed. He wanted her, yet her aggressive independence and strong will frightened him.

Dash had to use the bathroom too, and he decided maybe he should freshen up a bit while he was in there. When he got back to the bedroom, Maria was back in bed, lying on her side turned away from him, waiting for his promised return. Her nightshirt lay on the floor. He took in the scene, slipped out of his shorts, and got under the covers.

She rolled over, cuddled back close to him again, and sighed. Holding her in his arms felt natural, and he treasured the skin-to-skin contact - something he had been too busy last night to enjoy. He let his hand slide down her back, and she shifted against him turning so he had more access. His fingers sent a whole series of delightful tactile details to his brain, but all Dash could think about was how good it felt.

At the small of her back, he sought out the two ridges of muscle on either side of her spine. He had never met a runner who did not have tight back muscles, so he applied a little pressure with his finger tips. She groaned in response, and Dash gently manipulated her flesh trying to loosen the stiffness he felt there. He went lower onto her buttocks. Those mounds of flesh were firm, but he prodded with is fingers feeling taut muscles there as well.

He shifted around until he was sitting over her legs, and he went to work on her back. He eased his hands across her naked back feeling the well-defined muscles below. Thinking back to the massages he had had, Dash tried to manipulate the structures of her back the same way. Occasionally she gave a little moan of encouragement, but otherwise she just lay there and let him work. Once he had completed working on her whole back, he lay back down beside her.

Her eyes were dark and still puffy with sleep, but she came to him. With the first touch of their lips, Dash knew he could not help but love this woman. Soft and tender, her mouth met his, and he knew he had to kiss her - love her with his mouth. Their tongues tangled briefly, but he kissed her nose, her eyes, her chin... but he always came back to her mouth where she welcomed him with increasing promise.

Pulling back a little bit, he began exploring the rest of her body with his mouth - kissing, nibbling, and licking his way to her soft breasts. Small, dark nipples perched at the tips of her quite nice sized mounds. As he nuzzled at her chest, he tried to stay attuned to her response to what he did. He wanted to play off her reactions. Stubble on his chin? Go easy with that. She liked to have her nipples sucked - she made that obvious - but be careful not to overdo. After a few gentle licks at the stiff little buds of her nipples, he blew across the wet tips, chilling them and making them contract even tighter. He kept physical contact sporadic at first, but gradually touched her more and more often as he felt her arousal build.

She lay on her back totally passive letting him have control. Dash rolled aside to give himself room to move freely. He continued to work on her breasts, but how he used his hands as well, and he let his mouth explore lower across her firm, tight belly. Below that, the dark nest of her secret hair beckoned. He took his time, but he made his destination clear early with a quick kiss in the middle of her mound. Her black, crinkly hair held the scent of a woman.

He moved around between her legs, and she made room for him. He did not abandon her breasts and upper torso yet. Rather he leaned over the join of her legs to continue to kiss, lick, and knead her breasts. Of course his legs and rigid cock made some incidental contact with the area between her legs - all part of his plan.

Finally he knelt between her thighs and brought his mouth to her patch of hair. He heard her groan, but he still he kept his pace slow. Gently rubbing her mound with his nose, he enjoyed the feel and smell of her hair. Finally his nose reached the cleft in her legs and nestled in the indentation. She spread her legs widely to give him more room, and he prodded at the delicate tissues letting the thin bone at the ridge of his nose part the petals of her lower lips enjoying the obvious scent of her arousal.

She moaned softly as he explored, but when he used his tongue for the first time to open her lips, she gasped and almost sat up. "Oh, god!" she exclaimed. "What are you doing?"

He looked up and saw her wide eyes staring at him. "Now that would be telling," he said with a smile and dipped his head back to her sex. He probed back with his tongue and explored the moist crevice. Her hard little knot of pleasure flexed the first time he touched it, so he immediately moved on. Lower down, at her opening, her juices flowed - she tasted tart and the scent of musk was heavier.

Taking a break from her pleasure center, he started on the tender inner skin of her upper thighs. He caressed it with his hands interspersed with kisses and licks. Restlessly she stirred under him, and he felt her hands tugging him back upwards towards the source of her maximum pleasure. Yes, it was time.

Carefully he rested his left arm on her thigh and with two fingers he opened her outer lips. The room was lighter now, and he could see the moist red flesh of her deepest valley open and ready for him. Leaning forward, he lightly kissed her clitoris, and it spasmed in reply. Using his tongue he gently explored the area between her inner lips dipping down and teasing at the mouth of her vagina. When he touched the opening, the muscles of this softest part of her spasmed as her sex tried to kiss him back. He touched her there again. Then again.

Slowly he explored the region, lightly brushing by the edges of her clit from time to time. Each time he did, her muscles twitched and the tiny bud flexed as her whole legs jerked in sympathy. He slipped two fingers of his right hand up into her warm, moist opening and allowed them to curl upwards, seeking the smoother spot inside with his finger tips. Maria's whole body now jerked every time he caressed her clit with his tongue. He speeded up the action of his fingers rubbing at her g-spot.

Her entire body started to pulse in time with his tongue, and suddenly she gasped and went completely rigid. A strangled moan came from her lips as he continued to manipulate her climax to a maximum. With a gasp, she fell back against the bed. He gently but firmly stroked his fingers up inside of her, and she reared up again with another strangled cry. And again. Three times he brought her off the bed before she lay back limp.

At last he withdrew his hand and moved up over the top of her. Effortlessly his cock slid inside of her, and he supported himself on his elbows so he could look down at her face. Her eyes were closed. Gently he kissed her, and she opened her eyes and looked up at him. There were tears in her eyes.

For a long time she just looked at him and didn't say anything. Finally she knuckled the moisture from her eyes and sniffed. "What did you do to me?" she asked plaintively. She closed her eyes, and for a moment he thought she might have gone to sleep. Her eyes fluttered and she looked back at him. "I've never felt like that before."

Dash smiled. "Good," he said. "You are a special lady, and I wanted to show you how much I appreciate what you did for me yesterday." He leaned forward and kissed her mouth, and she kissed him back tenderly.

He felt her shift under him, then her muscles clasped at his cock. "Oh, my god." She blinked up at him wide-eyed. "You are inside me," she said with a deep, throaty note. She hunched forcing his cock to move. "Oh, fuck me," she said hunching against him. "Fuck me with your cock. I want to feel it inside me." She pushed at him aggressively. "Come on, fuck me!" she cried. "Do it hard."

Nothing subtle now, just hard frantic strokes - Dash drove into her time and time again while she pushed back against him just as hard. His own passion, held in check with grim determination while he had pleasured her, roared back with a vengeance. They both screamed at each other as they each got closer and closer to the climax of their lovemaking. The built-up pressure of his orgasm broke through Dash's last barrier, and he felt his cock delivering burst after burst of hot fluid deep into her body.




Midsummer-Night's Dreaming Ch. 03



When they were both completely spent, he rolled off her, and she cuddled back into his arms. It felt completely natural. He reached behind him, and found an edge of a blanket which he flipped up over them.

Before Dash even opened his eyes, he recognized the mid-morning sun from the light in the room. He blinked away sleep and realized Maria lay there beside him looking at him. She studied him closely, her head propped up on her arm.

When she saw he was awake, she leaned over and kissed him. "You know, I'm kind of glad I turned old Hawk's offer down," she said playfully.

He smiled helplessly. "You know," he paused stifling a yawn, "so am I."

"Are you as hungry as I am?"

With that reminder, Dash felt his stomach growl. "My appetite is the appetite of ten."

"Because your heart is pure?"

He laughed at the mangled reference. "No, that is definitely not the case. There is nothing pure about me."

"It's eleven o'clock. Breakfast or lunch?"

"How about a three-pound buffalo steak with a big old baked potato?" he speculated.

"Right," she said. "I'll reheat the left-over spaghetti from last night."

She rolled off the bed and started for the door. Dash had a momentary thought of pursuing her to catch her in his arms once more just assure himself that what had just happened, had... happened. The memory of having Maria in bed still dazzled him. He rolled out of bed, pulled on his jeans, and grabbed an old sweatshirt from his "clean" pile.

He padded barefoot out to the kitchen where Maria already had the spaghetti in the pan. She was still nude. She kissed him, then turned away towards her room. "Watch that for me, will you? I want to get something on so I don't get spattered."

She came back a minute later having pulled on some clothes, but her hair fell fetchingly untamed to her shoulders. Dash stirring the spaghetti, looked up and smiled. "You know, you've been almost domestic lately."

She took the spatula from him and continued to stir the mix. She frowned and didn't look at him. After chasing the food around the pan a few times, she said. "Talk about something else."

Dash blinked. Talk about something else? Was she referring to his remark about her domesticity? Their relationship - whatever it was? He finally decided to play it safe. "So, we have to go into Marshfield today?"

She turned to him and smiled, and Dash sighed in relief. He was afraid she might object to his assumption they would go together. No, the more he thought about the situation, the more he suspected Maria just didn't want to talk about their relationship. Well, that suited him. Relationships confused the hell out of him. So far in his life, he had managed to make nothing but hash out of any relationship he had ever had. So, business as usual - except he could not help but think of taking the beautiful woman back to bed.

Things ran late in Marshfield, so they had supper at a restaurant there. To Dash, it sort of felt like a date, but they kept the conversation casual. The crowd of people restaurant reminded Dash how long it had been since he had eaten anything but his own cooking.

When he mentioned it, Maria laughed. "Now I know you stayed slim before you started running again."

He liked to see her laugh. He liked the way the guy sitting at the next table had looked up at the sound of her laughter and had given Dash an envious glance.

All the way back to the cabin, his mind replayed scenario after scenario of how he could get her back into bed with him. Candle light and soft music? Something to drink? What would it take?

He should not have worried. As soon as they walked into the cabin, Maria was all over him pulling at his clothes. "I need you to fuck me," she said unbuttoning his shirt. "I wanted you so badly while we were sitting there in that restaurant, I could have died."

In no time they were both naked. She did not even want to walk to the bedroom. Instead she bent over the back of the couch and insisted he do her from behind. Dash was just as eager as she was, and they quickly drove each other to climax.

When they got their breath back, they laughed, picked up their clothes, and went to the bedroom. Maria threw her clothes on top of Dash's clothes chest and wrapped herself in a blanket she pulled from the bed. Dash shrugged into his robe and followed her back to the living room.

"Build a fire?" she asked as she settled on the couch.

The wood was already set, so Dash opened the damper and put a match to the kindling. After he was sure it had caught he joined her on the couch. She immediately scooted on to his lap and put her arms around him. She kissed him, and soon they were necking like school kids. His hands roamed her naked body under the blanket, and he reveled in the touch of her skin. In just a short time his hands went between her legs, and he began slowly to tease her back to full arousal. She kissed him with rising passion, her tongue active in his mouth. He loved the taste of her.

Dash had lost track of time, but he tried to keep her hanging on the edge for as long as possible. Finally, when she started to whimper for release, he took pity on her and used two fingers to vigorously fork her clitoris. She moaned into his mouth and shook violently as she had her release.

Afterwards they sat on the couch just watching the fire, not speaking at all. Finally Dash felt he had to say something, something he thought he would never say to a woman again. "Maria..." He had to stop and clear his suddenly thick throat. "Maria... I think I..."

He never finished because Maria seemed to anticipate he was about to say something which would change the nature of their affair. She put her slim hand on his mouth. "No, don't," she said. "Just hold me." They sat in silence watching the fire. Eventually when the fire had burned low, they went to bed.

The next morning, they made love enthusiastically again before they attacked the pile of work they had lined up to do on the Sager Valley project. They worked hard with only a short break for lunch. In the middle of the afternoon, Maria called a time out. "I need to get out for a run," she announced. "So do you. Let's do the route up to Campy's Point."

Dash stood up and stretched. Exercise sounded good after being hunched over a computer all day. They changed into their running gear, and after a fair amount of tickled-and-slap horseplay, they got out the door. He felt good as he ran, and he and Maria exchanged a few comments along the way. What really felt good was when they arrived at Campy's Point, Maria pulled off her jog bra, pushed down her singlet, and demanded to be taken right there as she bent over a picnic table. The area appeared to be deserted, but Dash didn't even give it a thought. Maria filled his thoughts and senses as he took her out in the sunshine, her tawny back under his hands and his cock deep inside her.

After supper, Maria asked Dash about some of the other writing projects he had been working on. At first he gave her the once over lightly summary he always gave to someone who expressed a polite interest, but Maria wanted more, and she questioned him. Soon he found himself describing in detail the plot and characters of the screenplay he had almost finished. He rarely had had a chance to discuss his writing with someone who seemed to have a sincere interest. Not only was Maria interested, she drew him out about the characters and their conflicts and made suggestions. Dash had never had a chance to collaborate with someone before, and he found Maria's suggestions were not only good, they triggered even more ideas for him to explore.

That evening they sat in front of the fire again and necked. Once again Dash brought Maria to an explosive orgasm with his fingers, but this time she returned the favor by giving him a wonderfully sensuous and prolonged session of oral sex. Because of the way he liked to keep her hanging, she made a special point of keeping him hard and throbbing to the point when she finally took him deep in her mouth and with long stokes brought him to his climax, the violence of his eruption left him breathless.

* * * * * *

They worked and made love steadily for the next three weeks - but suddenly it ended. Early one morning while they were finishing up in the kitchen after breakfast, Maria's phone rang. Dash continued to work on the dishes while she took the call. She didn't say much, just, "Yes, sir," a few times, then she ended the call. She didn't say anything but just stood silently until Dash looked up and said, "What is it?"

"Halley, Smithe, and Rose," she said. "Hawk has called off the fracking project, and effective immediately, they want me back in Washington."

Dash felt his stomach sink to his knees. The moment had finally come - that one event neither he nor Maria had been able to confront since the first time they had made love. Dash had to clear his throat before he could say anything. "So now what?" he finally managed.

Maria looked at him, her eyes soft, and for a moment he thought she was going to cry. However, her iron will reasserted itself, and, as he watched he could almost see her draw all the bits and pieces of the soft little girl Dash had grown to love back into herself. A moment later, the hard-edged, DC lawyer stood in front of him again, cool and competent. "They've got me booked on a plane out of Louisville later this afternoon. Tomorrow I have a meeting with a new team they are getting together to argue a case before the Supreme Court. They want me to lead it."

Lost for something to say, Dash blurted out, "Wow. The big leagues, huh?"

"Nothing bigger," she said. "Guess I'd better get packed." She looked around for a moment like she was lost, then she looked back at Dash. "Yeah. I've got to go."

Dash could think of nothing to say and just stood there watching while she walked into the bedroom and packed her bags. He was still standing there when she came out with her bag. She walked up and stood before him.

"Dash..." She didn't continue, but just looked at him. Finally she said, "Dash, I've got to go. I've... I've just got to do this." She looked down at the floor for a while before she looked up and met his eyes again. "I need to do this, but I... you..." He saw moisture in her eyes, but she gave a little shake, and the softness vanished. "You will hear from me," she finally said a little breathlessly.

And that was all she said. She didn't kiss him goodbye. She didn't even shake his hand. He heard the car start, and then she was gone - out of his life.

It was a good thing his last bottle of whiskey still had the odor of concentrated cat urine, or Dash would have downed the whole thing that evening. The next morning, however, he woke up clear-eyed and determined. "If she can go back to her old life that easily, I didn't mean that much to her, so I can't let her mean that much to me," he told himself. Easier said than done, but he threw himself into his work with renewed concentration. He had to concentrate because otherwise he would think of... 

* * * * * *

Three weeks later, Dash sat in his chair after supper adding to his idea files when there was a quiet knock on the door. For a moment he flashed back to the other events which had started just this way. With a sigh, he got up. Now what? He went to the door and opened it. Maria stood there - on his porch. He knew his mouth was open, but he couldn't find anything to say.

She gave him a weak smile and said, "Hi, Dash. I know you probably don't want to see me, but..."

That was as far as she got because Dash smothered the rest of what she had been going to say in a kiss. For the first instant she stiffened against him, but then she responded. Enthusiastically. They stumbled back into the cabin, and Maria pushed the door shut with her foot as she passed. Neither wanted to break the kiss, but their clothing started to come off anyway. They managed to get all the way to the bedroom before they fell on the bed - together.

A good while later, they both lay on the bed exhausted. Dash looked over at Maria. She had slipped her legs back under the blanket, but her upper body, still gloriously naked, sprawled back against a couple of pillows. Her hair was disheveled, and Dash reached out and pushed one her dark locks back off her forehead. "I guess we still remember how, huh?"

She smiled. "Thank you so much for that, Dash. I mean, after what I did to you..."

Dash could tell there was more to the thought, so he just waited for her to piece it together.

"It was Puck," she said. "He led me astray."

"Not unusual as I understand it."

"No, no. It wasn't what he said, it's what I heard." She looked at him. "That didn't make much sense, did it?"

He just waved for her to go on. It was her story.

"When Puck first approached me," she smiled at him, "and sometime I have to tell you that story. Anyway, he told me if I did this for him, I would find my heart's desire."

Now Dash thought he knew what was coming, so he said, "And it was lawyer-girl who heard it? So when they called you about arguing a case before the Supreme Court..." he trailed off to let her finish the thought.

Maria nodded. "Right. When lawyer-girl heard that, she kicked into high gear. Off to Washington! Research the case! Outline the briefs! Lead the team!" She made fist pumping gestures emphasizing each point.

She looked at him sadly and reached out to touch his face. "Only when Puck told me I would find my heart's desire, he wasn't talking to lawyer-girl. He was talking to me, the soft, little girl down inside." She stroked his cheek. "He was telling me, I would find you - my heart's desire." Her eyes filled with tears, and Dash took her into his arms. He held her stoking her back reassuringly.

Finally she broke away, wiped her eyes, and blew her nose on a tissue from the box on the bed table. "It took me three whole days back in Washington to figure that out, but once I did, I walked right into Smithe's office and gave notice. I closed out everything there, got in my car, and drove back here to see if you would take me back."

"Did you notice how long I had to think about it?" he asked.

She laughed. "I guess I just wasn't cut out to be a lawyer."

Dash looked at her sharply and said, "Bullshit!" She looked shocked by the vehemence of his response, but he went on before she could say anything. "From everything I've seen, you are one hell of a lawyer. In fact, it wouldn't surprise me to see you argue a case before the Supreme Court. But you will do it your way - not as some hard-edged, sharp-assed Washington lawyer, but as an articulate, well-reasoned attorney who has all of her ducks in a row laying out a case for justice. If you treat your clients with the same passionate compassion you brought to Sager Valley, you will be nothing less than a world beater."

He patted her hand. "There. Speech done. I guess I could have just said I admire the hell out of you, but, as a writer, I'm obligated to use big words."

She smiled. "So..." she said a little tentatively and looked down shyly, "can I stay?"

Dash rolled on to his back, looked at the ceiling, and smiled. "You can stay here if you want, but I won't be around." He put his hands behind his head and sighed happily. "I am headed out to LA," he announced. He looked over at her, but she looked puzzled. He smiled. "My new agent made a sale, and the studio wants to put it into production immediately. They want me to come out to work on the script."

"How much..."

"The check for the rights was more than I've made in the last five years - combined!" he announced happily. "I also have a couple of points of the total revenues - a fantastic deal."

"That's wonderful," she said, "but I was going to ask is, how much time will that take?"

"They said a couple of months, but who knows?" He looked at her, serious now. "The only condition is, you have to come with me."

She laughed. "I love Los Angeles."

"Oh, one other condition." Dash leaned over and pulled out of drawer of the nightstand and reached inside. "Puck came by a couple weeks ago to thank me, and he gave me something he said I would need." He retrieved the object and closed the drawer. "At the time, I didn't understand. Now I do." He rolled over on his stomach propping himself up on his elbows in front of her and looked at her earnestly. He held out a small, gold ring with a stone mounted on it. "Will you wear this for me?"

Maria took the ring from him silently and looked at it. Her eyes got big. "I know this ring. This was my great-grandmother's engagement ring. I lost it two years ago when I moved to a new apartment. I felt incredibly bad about it because it was the only thing I had of hers, and I barely remember her. I was five when she died." She studied the ring carefully, then smiled at Dash. "I love this ring. Thank you."

"Thank Puck. He was the one that found it."

"Hmm," Maria said thoughtfully, "or maybe he was the one who took it in the first place?"

Dash smiled. "Then that's what I call planning ahead, but speaking of planning, I need an answer to my question - will you wear it... for me?" He waited tensely for her answer.

She leaned forward and kissed him. "Dash, I'm yours now. I hope you know that." She looked at the ring again. "But I've tried this on before. It's too small." She pushed the ring onto the end of her third finger and stared at it wide-eyed as it slid easily down into place around the base of her finger. She looked at Dash. "What..."

"Me-thinks the fairy made some changes," Dash said with a smile.

Maria's eyes were moist as she looked at the ring around her finger. "Yes, Dash," she said. "I will wear this for you." She paused, then said, "Forever," in a breathy whisper.

* * * * * *

Two months later Dash and Maria were back in Kentucky at the National Land Trust Alliance's special reception to recognize the contribution of Seth Hawk to the creation and preservation of the Sager Valley Wilderness Area. Hawk was being recognized for his donation of 500 acres of land to the local land trust as well as signing over all mineral rights to an adjacent 3200 acres. When Dash and Maria had received the formal letter of invitation, they had both marveled at the hypocritically effusive description of Hawk, the environmentalist, when it had been Hawk, the industrialist, who had triggered the fight in the first place.

After the banquet was eaten, the awards given, and the speeches made, Dash and Maria wandered around the reception talking with people, and they had a chance to meet some of the persons they had corresponded with while working to prevent Hawk's fracking project. At one point, an elegantly attired woman turned around beside Dash, and he found himself staring at... the nymph? He recognized the elegant lines of her face, her ice-blue eyes, and her flowing hair, but there was no glowing nimbus of light around her. He felt... nothing. Oh, she was beyond beautiful, but Dash felt no sexual compulsion this time.

Before he could think of something to say, she stepped towards him and reached out to touch his cheek with her elegant finger tips. "Ah," she said. "So sad to have missed you before. Maybe tonight if..."

"There you are, my dear." Seth Hawk was suddenly there at the nymph's side, and he took her arm possessively. Dash noticed the man looked thinner and had dark circles under his eyes. "Hyleoroi, you know what I've said about talking to strange men," Hawk said. As he pulled her away from Dash, Hawk glared at him. The nymph let Hawk lead her away, but she looked back over her shoulder at Dash and winked at the same time she ran her hand affectionately up Hawk's back.

"What was that all about?" Maria asked.

Dash started. For the moment, he had forgotten Maria. Dash gestured at the retreating couple and leaned over to whisper so only Maria could hear. "That was the nymph."




Midsummer-Night's Dreaming Ch. 04



"Fair little Fae."

At the tinkling little voice, Fae Ressel looked up from her bed where she lay reading and saw Puck standing on her night table. "Hey there, minnie-mite!" she said. "You've been gone too long this time." She screwed up her face pretending to think. "What's it been? Two months now?"

The six-inch tall fairy laughed and skipped down onto her bed and gave her a little kiss on the cheek. "Oh, I will have a fine tale for you next time. Titania wants my help to distract Oberon from his latest infatuation with a cute little mortal. The girl has turned the king's head, and Titania needs it turned back round again."

"Just the sort of thing you specialize in, huh?"

"Ah, my little Fae, how well you understand old Puck. Nothing is more fun the tweaking the king of the Fairies, and it is particularly droll when I can do it without fear because it was ordered by my queen." 

Even though only six-inches tall, Puck easily hopped up onto the bed beside her where Fae was curled up with an issue of Astrophysical Journal. "Tomorrow," he announced, "I will cast a spell on the king to make him think he is the prize bull in Lord Huffingham's herd." He laughed. "The next day, I will be banished from the Scottish countryside forever." He gave a last little hop and landed cross-legged between her and the journal. "And on the day after that, Titania will invite me back, the king will have forgotten, and everything will be as it will be."

Fae shook her head. "One of these days you will get in serious trouble again," she warned.

"Ah, tut, tut." Puck waved dismissively. "I've learned my lesson. Stay on the good side of Titania. That's the trick." Puck sighed, and leaned back against the periodical. "The reason I have been so long is that I have been working on your little magical problem, my fair little Fae."

"My 'curse', you mean?" she said. She did not let her skepticism reach her voice.

"The very thing," he said seriously. "I've told you how the vile nymph, Hyleoroi, cursed you because your mother helped your father avoid her charms."

Fae had heard the story about how her parents had met, but she was not sure she believed all of the magical events Puck had told her about. Puck had told her that her problem, she had been born with a hare-lip and cleft palate, had been caused by the nymph's magical spell. Really? A birth defect caused by a magic spell? She did not know if it made her feel better to think she had been cursed by fate or cursed by a nymph, but she still had to live with the result. She did not believe in all that magic stuff he spouted all the time—but then again, he actually was a fairy, and fairies were magical...

Stop, she told herself. You are a scientist, and scientists don't believe in fairies. Even ones that took the magazine from her hand, folded down the corner of the page where she had been reading, and laid it on the bed.

"I came to tell you," Puck announced, " that I have found a way to cure your curse." He smiled at her.

"Sorry, but the doctors all agreed some years ago that because of the structural abnormalities of my palate, they don't think surgery was the answer."

"Oh, no, no, no." Puck smiled. "Not some mortal, patch-work fix for the nymph's malediction, but a true cure." The little fairy positively beamed. "I have found that the curse can be broken by love. True love."

Fae laughed. "Now I know you are teasing me just as you tease all the other mortals. True love? What should I do, start wearing a bag over my head?"

Puck took her large hand in his small ones and stepped closer so he could look her directly in the eyes. "My dear little Fae. True love is coming. I have it all worked out. With the kiss of true love, the nymph's curse will be lifted. Today your true beauty lies hidden within, but once the wicked curse is broken, the whole world will see you as I see you—a true beauty, inside and out.

She blinked, distressed by the moisture that had formed in her eyes. Her parents, and especially her mother had worked with Fae long and hard getting her to accept her condition. Her counselor too. Fae had had a difficult childhood, but she had worked grimly to excel at everything she attempted. She had accepted her deformity, but Puck's casual promise of true love lifting a "curse" had caught an edge of raw emotion she thought she had sealed down tight.

Rolling away from Puck to the side of the bed, she pulled a tissue out of the box and blew her nose. "Puck, I really don't want to hear anything about that. I am who I am. Please, let me be."

The fairy climbed the bunched pillow beside her and tenderly patted her shoulder. "I will not speak of this again with you if you wish, but events are already unfolding." For a time he just stood there silently beside her. Finally he said, "You shall see."

When Fae turned to look at him, there was no one there.

#

"Here's the cleaned up data from last week's run. Do you see what I see in 412b?" Logan Wright pointed over Fae's shoulder to the jagged line of the infrared spectrum displayed on the screen.

Fae looked up and smiled at him before turning back to the computer. She pointed to the graph. "You mean this little dip right here at 890 nm?" She tapped the screen and grinned. "Yep, I'm liking it for methane." Keppler 412b was the twelfth exoplanet they had observed in the infrared during a transit of its primary, and it was the first for which they had seen a definite spectral feature appear. "If we see that at the next transit..." she clicked the file entry for the planet and checked the transit predictions, "...at the end of this month, and the next one after that, I do believe we will have a publishable result."

She pushed back from her desk, raised her arms, and stretched. She needed to remember to move more often rather than staying hunched over the computer. "Can we get any telescope time anywhere?" she asked. "Who owes us favors for a few photons?"

Logan looked smug. "As soon as I saw it, I called Jenkins at Kitt Peak and traded our time slot on the Mayall in June for his slot in May. We have a block of time from before first contact right on through the whole transit, and it's in our own backyard." 

"Perfect!" Fae got up and gave Logan a hug. "A few more data points and this could be a major publication for us. And if we find a few more signals..."

"Well, don't get your hopes up," he said with a smile, "but I can see the faint glimmer of tenured faculty positions in our future."

Fae smiled at Logan's hope, but inside she cringed. She had been a post-doc long enough to know her chances for such a position were slim. Not that an important publication or two would hurt her credentials, but with her speech impediment, a true faculty position was highly unlikely. She worked well with grad assistants, but lecturing with her nasal, wispy voice to a class full of astronomy students was out of the question.

Logan continued to smile at her, and she shared his feeling of success. They were a team. On the first day of Physics I at USC, Logan had sat down beside her, and they had been friends and colleagues ever since. Logan looked like one of the well-built, blond surfer boys who hung out at the beach, except he lacked the perpetual tan. Instead he sported an astronomy researcher's pallor. The one time he had gone to the beach with friends, he had come back the next day with an uncomfortably bright-pink sunburn. Logan was an out and out geek, but he was not one of those quiet, mousey guys who looked at their shoes when they talked to you and knew nothing of life outside of the lab. No, Logan was a big, enthusiastic puppy of a geek who led a somewhat slobbery social life both inside and outside the astronomical research community.

For a time after graduation they had gone in separate directions, but now they were both post-docs in the Astronomy Department at the University of Arizona in Tucson—partners again. Fae, quiet and reserved as she tended to be, enjoyed working with Logan because things happened around him. Together they made an excellent research team. Logan liked developing equipment to measure the unmeasurable, and Fae enjoyed the long, detailed analysis involved in making those measurements speak to theory.

They chatted for a few more minutes about the results, but then Logan held up a finger. "New subject. How would you like to go out with Prissy and me this weekend."

"Logan, why do you call her that? Her name's Priscilla, and you know she doesn't like that name." 

"Yeah," he smiled, "and you notice I never call her Prissy when she's around." He shrugged. "I don't know. It just seems to fit." He looked off in the distance for a moment before he returned his attention to her. "Hey, don't change the subject—you, this weekend...?" He pointed his finger at her and looked hopeful.

"Don't be silly. You know I won't be a 'third wheel' when you guys are out on a date."

Logan's smile got broader, and Fae had a sinking feeling in her stomach. "Not to worry," he said. "We've got that covered. Seems that Prissy's old boyfriend, Edgar, is back in the area, and he'll come along as your date."

Wonderful. Her research partner was now setting her up for dates. "Is this a good idea? I mean, did you tell him about...?" She waved her hand up towards her face. Ever since a boy in junior high had called her 'smash face,' she had been sensitive to other people's reactions to her appearance.

"Why would that matter? You are the most interesting person I know, and if he's enough of a bonehead not to be able to have a fascinating conversation with you, then that's his loss." Logan looked at her with his big eyes. "Come on," he begged. "It's not like you're going to marry the guy."

Marry the guy? Abruptly she remembered Puck's promise of true love. The thought that this 'Edgar' would be her true love, break the curse, and sweep her off into the happily-ever-after terrified her. She could not speak.

Finally Logan reached over and closed her laptop. "Look, it would be a favor to me. This guy, Edgar's been hanging around all week, and I want to give him somebody else to talk to besides Priscilla. I don't think there's anything there anymore, but I'd rather have Priscilla all to myself. So, Saturday night?" He looked at her expectantly then added, "Please?"

When Logan looked at her with those big brown eyes, she could not refuse. "Okay, but I think the whole things sounds pretty awkward."

"Ah, it will be fine. You'll see. I thought we'd go out to eat then maybe hit a club or drive up into the mountains."

"The mountains, please," she said immediately. She did not like the noise in the clubs and did not like to dance where other people might stare at her. If she had to do this, the mountains seemed a better choice. "Maybe we could drive up Gates Pass Road and show the stars to the uninitiated."

"Oh, Prissy will be fascinated by that," he said sarcastically, "but I like that idea."

After Logan left, Fae tried to get back to the analysis she had been working on, but she kept getting distracted by a series of stray thoughts that chased around in her head. She was not comfortable in social situations, but Logan had dragged her in to other things on occasion, and she had enjoyed herself. Still, her being a distraction to Edgar sounded as if it could be uncomfortable. No, it would be uncomfortable, but she would do it for Logan's sake.

The one thought she avoided thinking about at all, was Puck's promise of 'true love.' Whatever he had meant by that, she did not want to think about it. Puck's reputation as a trickster was well documented in literature and legend, but he had never done anything to Fae except bring her unusual flowers and pretty little knick-knacks from around the world. She could not imagine that the little fairy, whom she had known all her life, would do anything mean. But then again, she could not imagine true love either.

#

Edgar Worthington turned out to be a decent guy. He was tall and dark with chiseled good looks that shaded towards aristocratic, but maybe it was just the fashionable argyle sweater and creased kakis he wore. His shoulders were broad, suggesting he had been well built at one time, but now he was a little soft around the edges. Both he and Priscilla Pennymaker had been together at Yale's business school, but after they had gotten their MBAs, they had gone off in different directions. Bank of America had hired Priscilla and moved her to Tucson as an associate investment manager in their Arizona operations. Edgar had gone directly to Wall Street where he worked long, hard hours trying to make a name for himself on the Street. He had taken advantage of one of his rare vacations to fly out west to see his old classmate, but other than casual chit-chat about what was going on in their lives, he did not seem to be making an obvious play to renew their old relationship.

To the contrary, he seemed more than content to talk with Fae. Although at times he seemed a bit full of himself, he made an effort to draw Fae out about her work. She tried to keep things simple, but she could tell he did not understand everything she said. Still, he seemed to get the gist of the work she and Logan were doing to understand the atmospheres of planets beyond our own solar system.

On the other hand, she found it difficult to understand precisely what Edgar did at his investment firm. At one point she asked him to explain the 'credit default swaps' she had heard of, but got lost in his explanation of the roll they played in the financialization of a developing economy. Fortunately he had enough tact to recognize her blank expression, and he steered his end of the conversation back to some of the adjustments he had had to make to living in New York.

After their dinner, they drove west towards Tucson Mountain State Park. Logan drove Priscilla's Cadillac because it had much more room and comfort than his ten-year-old Toyota. Fae sat in the back with Edgar. Although Priscilla frequently touched and stroked Logan while he drove, Edgar was a perfect gentleman in the backseat, and he told Fae a series of amusing stories about strange things he had seen in New York.

Rather than drive all the way up to the park, Logan pulled off into one of the turnouts that had a small parking lot and several picnic tables. The sun was long out of the sky, and the stars had the pristine brilliance of the desert night. As they got out, she reached back into the car for her jacket. A breeze flowing up from the city below ruffled her hair. The air was still warm with the heat of the day, but she knew the temperature was dropping. Sometimes Logan could be long winded.

Once everyone had assembled, Logan went into his 'star-talk' mode pointing out Jupiter and Saturn in the sky as well as some of the bright constellations and other objects visible in the clear, dark air. Fae knew about the inner working of stars and the equations that described their temperature gradients and energy outputs. However, she was not terribly familiar with the night sky itself, and she always enjoyed listening to Logan as he showed her the actual objects, or at least the locations of the objects, they studied. Standing there looking up at the magnificent spectacle, Fae could not help but feel humbled by the universe.

Their companions seemed to take it all in, but at one point Edgar interrupted. "Tucson is not nearly as pretty as Denver is from up in the mountains."

Fae immediately countered. "It's actually much prettier. Tucson has one of the most restrictive light trespass codes in the nation. We need it because without it most of the equipment up at Kitt Peak National Observatory would be useless."

In the weak light from the city, she could see a puzzled Edgar looking at her. "But that's what—forty, fifty miles?"

"As it is," she announced, "from the observatory you can still see Tucson's sky glow off to the northeast."

"Hmph," Edgar said. "And all this time I thought it was just because of all the dim bulbs in Tucson."

Edgar and Priscilla laughed, and Logan even chuckled. A small, social smile twitched to her lips, but for the first time she was offended by something Edgar had said. She started a retort, but, before she had a chance to say anything else, she noticed something... strange. The stars were moving, and she had a bit of vertigo for a moment. She looked overhead and saw a number of small pinpricks of light moving slowly around the zenith. No, she quickly realized, the stars were not moving because she could still see Arcturus and the stars of the Dipper above. These new lights in the sky were not stars because they moved too fast. They were getting brighter too.

Fae heard a giggle and looked over to see Priscilla twirling surrounded by the little lights. Fae looked back up at the sky. More swirling lights had joined in, and a little laugh bubbled up from inside. The lights looked funny, and suddenly she realized she felt—strange. Little tickley feelings ran up her arms and legs. She looked down and saw a faint red tint around her fingers. Fascinated, she brought her hand up in front of her face. The red color flowed from her fingers and down her arms. As it flowed, warmth sufused her skin—and sensuality. Fae might have been a virgin, but she was no sexual novice. No, the internet had educated her, and her toys kept her happy. The red glow had no physical heat, yet the skin of her arms were experiencing all the wonderfully arousing sensations she had always associated with her genitals. Fascinating.

Her fascination grew to wonder as the glow continued to spread up her arms and across her chest. She felt rather than saw the glow as it crept up the sides of her breasts, and she thought she would faint with joy as the sensations concentrated in her nipples. She wanted more. Her light jacket was too warm, so she shrugged out of that. Her top was in the way, and she quickly pulled that off over her head, flung it away, and raised her arms to the sky. Free! She was free—and excited.

The sensation in her nipples demanded attention. Fae's breasts were not large, and her bra was more for modesty than anything else. She shed it without a thought and pinched her tingling buds between her thumb and forefinger. The extra stimulation made her groan with excitement. Her pinch also shot a burst of excitement directly to her loins. She looked down and saw the red glow moving past her waist towards her sex. Trembling with anticipation, she waited impatiently while heightened sensations flowed behind the glow. Quickly she shucked off the remainder of her clothes then leaned back against the a picnic table. She did not trust her trembling legs to support her.

The feeling intensified, and a pulse throbed between her legs—not the pulse of an intense orgasm, but pulses of warm, moist, demanding need. A hand stroked her back, and she thought she would melt. She reached out and touched the warm, naked body next to her. A male body she discovered as she let her hand wander down to the rampant organ between his legs. The lights swirled all around her now like stars in her eyes. She was mesmerized, and the lights were all she could see. But she did not need to see. All she wanted was the hard cock in her hand to be inside her needy, wet pussy.

Evidently she was not the only one in need because he drew her into a crushing embrace. Fae could not resist running her hands up and down his back reveling in the feel and textures of his skin—every pore and crease on the outside of his body. In addition her hands could feel all the cords of muscle and bone inside. She reached farther down and clutched at the cheeks of his ass. They were hard with muscle, and she squeezed them with her hands.

While she explored his body, he explored hers rubbing and stroking her back down to her hips. In another moment he seized her rear and sat her on the edge of the picnic table. Her legs parted automatically for him, and in a moment his large, warm cock slid into her.




Midsummer-Night's Dreaming Ch. 04



A cock. Insider her. Her first real, flesh-and-blood cock. No batteries in this one, but she did not need any artificial vibrations to get her excited. She trembled with desire, and as the novel invader glided deeper inside her, she had a rush of feeling, and her muscles contracted to give the hard member a squeeze of welcome. She groaned with the pulse of a small orgasm with just the first stroke of her first fuck. How much better could it get?

The answer was quickly apparent. Much better! She lay back on the picnic table feeling nothing of its surface. Only the hands gliding slowly up towards her breasts mattered. That, and the points of contact where their bodies touched—especially his one long, hard point of contact inside her. His fingers reached her nipples already nubby-hard with excitement. First he caressed them softly, but then he squeezed their stiffness making her gasp. The sudden spring of release when his fingers passed on gave her a different thrill. After a few gentle strokes, he took her nipples between his fingers and began to squeeze them one at a time, sometimes tugging gently, sometimes rolling them to the side. He had not moved his cock, but her breasts seemed to be connected directly to her pussy. She gave another groan, a little louder this time, and once again her muscles contracted around his penis as another gentle wave of orgasm passed through her sex.

She could have been on the beach, just lying back and letting the wonderful warm cock bring wave after surging wave of pleasure through her body. The undulations did not have the hard, bright burst of a climax, but they were a rolling flow of sensuous delight that spread out from her loins and suffused her whole body. Fae reveled in the shear, self-indulgent hedonism as ripples of joy flowed through her body. Just as she was beginning to wonder how much more sybaritic joy she could stand, she sensed a change in his tempo. His strokes became more urgent. The intensity of his motion focused her own arousal on her sex. She looked down and the red glow which had covered her entire body was now a pulsating beacon between her legs.

With one last powerful thrust he pushed into her, and his cock spasmed deep inside her as it discharged its load of cum. That triggered her own release, and her body surged up to meet his. Gasping and panting together, they joined together in inarticulate cries of pleasure.

And suddenly it ended. The world drifted back to her as the magical moment receded. Magic. It had been magic! Puck and his magic. The sparkles of light swirled away, and she could see again. The stars were back in their usual places overhead—and so was... Logan? She could not believe what she saw in the dim light. Logan? Where was Edgar? Wasn't he ...? Didn't Puck mean for ...?

Her scattered thoughts were interrupted when Logan gave her a warm embrace and nuzzled his face into her neck. "Oh, god, I'm sorry Fae," he said. "I just couldn't help myself."

As he held her, Fae felt her own arms reach up and return the embrace. Finally she said, "Logan, I don't think this was supposed to happen."

He looked at her, and she could see a boyish grin on his face. "I'm glad it did," he whispered, and for one desperate moment Fae's heart threatened to explode with joy. He eased backwards, and Fae felt his cock slipping out of her. She felt sad their moment together was ending, but it was not right for them to be together. After all, Logan and Priscilla...

At that moment the full reality of their position returned, and she sat up abruptly pushing Logan away. She and Logan were not alone. Priscilla and Edgar were... where? Embarrassed for the first time by the thought of her own nudity, she looked frantically around for her clothes. Logan, too, seemed to feel awkward, and he retrieved his own clothes. As she hurriedly dressed, Fae could not help but steal one more look at Logan's cock before he pulled up his pants. Even though not as rigidly stiff as it had been before, it still swung out an impressive length in front of his body. Had that huge thing really been inside of her? The wetness between her legs told her it had.

They were both almost decent again, when Fae heard a quiet little laugh from behind and turned to see Priscilla and Edgar approaching. They walked holding hands, and their clothing was just as disheveled as Fae and Logan's.

"I don't know what just happened," Priscilla said with a smile, "but it looks like it happened to you guys too."

Fae flushed. "Look, Priscilla, I'm really sorry. I didn't mean for this to... I mean, I know you and Logan..." She stopped because Priscilla put her arms around Edgar.

"I'm the one who should be sorry," Priscilla said looking serious. "Logan, can you forgive me? I do like you, but after tonight... I mean, after what just happened between Edgar and me, we just kind of ... remembered how it used to be." She squeezed Edgar closer and looked up at him. "I'm sorry Logan, but Edgar and I are just meant for each other." She gave a little helpless shrug. "I guess."

Logan seemed to be speechless. He looked at the couple then he looked at Fae. "Well, yeah. Okay." He scratched his head. "I guess."

Seeing Logan's awkwardness, and feeling awkward herself. Fae stepped forward and took Logan's arm. "Look, let's just head back. Okay?"

Back at the car, Priscilla climbed in the back seat with Edgar which left Fae to sit up front with Logan. Once the car was back on the road, Fae could hear whispers from the back seat punctuated by occasional giggles. She looked at Logan in sympathy, but he stared straight out the window concentrating on driving. At least, that's the way to looked. Fae knew him well enough to know that his brain must be awhirl with thoughts.

On impulse she turned enough to reach his hand and took it in hers. His hands were cold, and she she gave it a little squeeze. After a pause, he squeezed back. Then he turned to look at her for a moment and smiled. Fae smiled back even though Logan could not see, and she continued to hold his hand until they were back in the city.

#

Fae almost stayed home on Monday. The lab was one place where she felt sure of herself. Graphs, charts, data analyses, and statistical significance were her friends. Logan had always been a part of that world, but a safe part. Now, he did not feel safe at all. After her shower, she fixed her hair, but as she worked, her eyes kept coming back to the curl of her upper lip. The plastic surgeons had fixed the gross deformity she was born with, but her skewed face would never be normal. She thought of all the pretty little pixies she had gone to school with years ago. Before she slipped into self pity, however, she gave herself a mental shake. Screw them, she thought. She had been smarter than anyone in her school then, and she was smarter now. She put down her brush and looked at herself sternly. Come on, she told herself firmly. Be a tough broad. She sighed. Her mother used to lecture her like that, but it had never been easy for Fae.

At 9:00 she had a meeting in the main library with the two graduate students she was consulting with about the analysis of their research project. She did not get to her office in the lab until after lunch. Mylinh, the department secretary, arched a questioning eyebrow at her when Fae stopped to pick up her messages. Mylinh leaned forward and asked, "So, how was Saturday?"

Right to the heart of it. "What?" Fae replied feigning indifference as she scanned the messages, but her heart was in her throat. Logan could be such a doofus about social relationships. What had he said this morning? Mylinh loved office gossip, and Logan's activities were always a hot item.

Mylinh leaned closer and spoke in a stage whisper. "Is it true Logan broke up with Priscilla?" 

"Ah, yes," she answered carefully. "I guess, anyway. You'd better ask him."

"Oh, I did." Mylinh rolled her eyes. "He wouldn't say a word, that's why I figure another one bit the dust."

Fae almost laughed with relief. "Well, from what I saw, Priscilla decided to go another way."

"Kind of awkward for you, huh?"

"Oh, yeah," Fae agreed. But not near as awkward as working with Logan today, she thought.

The lab was just a small room set aside for their equipment. Logan had a work bench covering the far wall where assembled and tested their sensors. There were several computers sitting around, but most were outmoded and only useful if they needed to access older files or communicate with dated equipment. Logan was bent over at his bench intent on a new piece of equipment Burbridge had sent them to increase the resolution of infrared spectral lines.

Fae sat down on at her computer and logged in. Just as her email window opened, she heard Logan cheery greeting, "Hey, Fae Fie Fo Fum, how are you today?"

She looked around to see him smiling at her from where he sat. "Hey, yourself," she replied with a smile.

He held up something from the bench in front of him. "The new high-dispersion sensor chip from IR Systems came in this morning, and I've got it mounted into the Q-5 array. We should be ready for a test run tomorrow night. I want to get the calibration done in time for our observing slot in May so we can lock the detection down tight."

From Logan's reply, it was obvious they were not going to have a long, serious discussion about their little "indiscretion" last weekend. What had it meant? How had Logan felt about it? How did she feel about it? Fae wanted to talk about it, but at the same time she was frightened by what the answers might mean. She got up and walked to the back of the lab where she pulled out a stool and sat down beside him.

"Logan, I really think we should talk." He looked puzzled, so she said, "About last weekend."

He looked away and his face colored. "Oh, I... Ah..."

Fae sighed to herself. Getting Logan to talk about... about their... Oh, damn, she thought. Finally she blurted out, "I just want to say I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" Logan looked at her confused. "Why should you be sorry? It was me, who... Well..."

They both looked at each other and the silence grew. Fae wanted to tell him how frightened she was of the feelings she had, of her fear of heartbreak, of the calamity of her thinking she could have a romance. But this was Logan, her perfect research partner. They were a team that could tease the secrets of the universe from just a few photons of light, but they could not talk about something so personal as what had happened between them.

Crap. She was at least as big a nerd as he was. At last Fae just said, "Okay, maybe we can't talk about it. Maybe we should try to forget what happened and get on with our work. Can we do that?"

Logan's sighed audibly with relief. "Yeah," he grinned. "I can do that. We don't want to spoil a good thing, do we?" He patted her hand and turned back to the detector he calibrating.

Fae went back to her computer. She pulled up two data files and tried to set up a power series analysis of the spectral changes between the transit and non-transit runs. She tried, but she could not keep her mind on what she was doing. She could still the touch of Logan's hand on hers when he had tried to be reassurring.

#

"Still nothing, huh?" Logan paused to take another bite of his second helping of spaghetti. Thursday night was spaghetti night at Fae's apartment. She cooked from scratch, and it was one recipe she could do well. Logan went into raptures over her spaghetti, but left on his own, he would happily eat the canned variety. Logan, for his part, brought the wine, and this evening he had found a particularly good, full-bodied syrah that was almost peppery in its aftertaste. Spaghetti night was a habit they had fallen into over the years they had worked together, and they used it as a working session to collect what they had done in the past week and plan for the next. 

Fae finished her supper, but Logan wentback for his usual second helping. She sat sipping her wine while he finished. "No," she sighed. "I ran another six data sets, but I only saw one little wiggle near the methane line we found in 412b, and that didn't hit our significance criteria."

"Time to change our criteria, huh?" he chuckled. Then he looked serious. "I thought that new high-resolution photometer would give us better results." He had finished his food, so he took his plate to the sink, rinsed it, and stuck it in the dishwasher. If nothing else, Logan was housebroken.

"Maybe the lines just aren't there," she said.

"They should be, darn it," Logan said. "We selected for the mass/density combinations which should have detectable signatures." He came back to the table and casually rested a hand on her shoulder. "Let's go take one more look. The more I think about it, maybe if we make another pass through the data with a lower criterion, it might give us an indication if there is a signal. If that's the case, maybe what we need is even more resolution..."

Unable to help herself, Fae reached up and put her hand on his. She leaned over and rested her head lightly against his arm. Ever since that night two weeks ago, she could not stop thinking about Logan—and making... love.

He sensed her mood and put his other hand on her shoulder and quietly said, "Fae, we've never talked about..." he paused. She knew what he was going to say, and didn't want to think about it. Every time she thought about that night it was a dagger in her heart. It should not have happened. It made everything too difficult. Logan sighed. Evidently he found it difficult to talk about as well. "Look, grab your wine, and let's decide what direction we are going to take this."

Her heart pounded. Was he talking about their date analysis or their data analysis? To her relief, Logan picked up the binder with the data report she had printed out this afternoon along with his wine glass. They moved over to the couch where Logan pulled the coffee table closer and put the binder down in front of them. He found the section with the results from 412b and flipped it open. "Now the way I figure it..."

The lights went out.

Everything was black for a minute until Fae's eyes adjust enough to see a trace of moon light shining faintly through the window. They sat there in silence for a short time until Logan said, "What the heck?"

Fae said, "I know I paid the light bill."

Logan laughed and went to the window to look out. "Looks like more than just your lights. I don't see a speck of light in this whole part of the city." He carefully groped his way back to the couch and sat down beside her.

There were no fairy lights this time, but suddenly she was in his arms. He held her tightly and whispered in her ear, "I've wanted this ever since that night." Fae had wanted exactly the same thing, and now that she was in his embrace, her heart beat heavily in her chest. His hands stroked her back, and she snuggled deeper into his embrace. Her right hand was free and rested on his leg. She shifted it upwards and found the bulge in the front of his pants.

"Oh," he gasped, "that's nice." The bulge got larger and more defined.

Now that her prurient interests were aroused, Fae decided to satisfy her curiosity about Logan's penis. She had caught a glimpse of it the night they made love up in the mountains, but she wanted to know what it looked like. Well, in the dark she would make do with what she could feel. She was clumsy, but with a few snaps, zips, and tugs, her hand found what she was seeking—Logan's large, stiff cock.

For a time she stroked and petted his member. When she used her hand to slide the loose skin up and down the shaft, Logan groaned, and there was an answering quiver in her loins. This cock had been inside of her, and it had made her cum. Now she pulled his cock up and bent down to take it in her mouth. Its warm, turgid length slipped between her lips and she caressed it again, this time with her tongue. There was no flavor, just a warm, musky aroma that reminded her of...sex.

She loved having the center of Logan's carnal life in her mouth, and she explored his cock with her tongue. The soft, smooth helmet at the top fascinated her, and she swirled her tongue around it tracing the ridge at the edge. He gasped when she licked at the V-shaped notch on the underside. Or was it the underside now that his whole organ was standing so rigidly upright in her mouth? Stop it, she chided herself. This was not the time for analytics. With tension building between her own legs, she rubbed the rough upper surface of her tongue across the spot vigorously, and his cock flexed in her mouth.

Satisfied that she had figured out how to make Logan cum at will, she backed off a little and slid more of his cock into her mouth. However, she did not get very far before he pulled her up away from her new toy. "Come on," he said. "Let's go to the bedroom."

The bedroom. That was like more serious sex than just a blow job on the sofa. She hesitated, and Logan swept her up off her feet. Carefully he made he his way through the darkened room towards her bedroom with her in his arms. She had heard of women getting swept off their feet, and now she thrilled at knowing the same thing had just happened to her. She had had thoughts and reservations about what had happened before, but now that she was in Logan's arms, none of that mattered. Not at the moment, anyway. She determinedly put all negative thoughts out of her head and just savored the sensuous anticipation of what was to come.

He laid her gently on the bed and started unbuttoning her blouse, but in the dark he fumbled. "Here," she said, "let me." After the first couple of buttons came free, she realized he was just standing there waiting. "Come on. You too," she said. As she worked her own clothing free, she heard the rustle as Logan shed his clothing as well. The bed sagged beside her, and he gathered her back into his arms.

Now they were both naked, and Fae reveled in the skin to skin contact as they folded themselves together and lay back on the bed. She stroked her hand down Logan's broad back feeling the ripples of muscle and bone beneath the skin. He stroked her in return, and she enjoyed the feelings it gave her. The last time they had been together, she had been so swept away there had been no chance to savor the experience. Now she wanted to experiment, to touch and be touched. Everything was new...and wonderful.

He ran his hands across her chest, and Fae's nipples were stiff as his hand brushed across them. "Mmm," she said. "Do that again." Logan stroked her breasts again, pinching and tugging at her nipples for good measure. She sighed with pleasure and groped down to where his stiffness pushed against her leg. She took him in her hand and squeezed, and he groaned in response.

Fae had heard other women talk about how long it took for their man to get them aroused, but tonight Fae could not understand that observation. She was on fire, and her pussy pulsed with need. She tugged at Logan's cock and spread her legs invitingly. He rolled on top of her and entered her slickness effortlessly. Shutting out all thoughts of what a mistake it was to fuck your research partner, she just responded as a woman.

Logan was evidently as aroused as she was because he immediately started making full strokes burying himself deeply inside her. He propped himself up on his elbows and squeezed her nipples again. It was like a bolt of lightning to her loins, and she bucked up hard against him as her orgasm tore loose inside her. Her spasms matched his spasms.

For a long, breathless moment after they both were spent, Logan lay there without moving. She was dazed by the intensity of the experience, and when Logan rolled off her, she snuggled happily within his arms. She thought of warm, wonderful things she wanted to say, but he thoughts wandered off to other things as she relaxed in the afterglow.




Midsummer-Night's Dreaming Ch. 04



Morning light edged the curtains when she opened her eyes. Fae raised her head to look at the clock and noticed an arm draped across her waist. In a rush it all came back to her. Not only had she fucked Logan last evening, he had stayed the night. Well, this is awkward, she thought. Not only had she not gotten Logan to talk through the meaning of their first encounter, now she had made the situation worse by doing it again. How stupid could she be?

She tried to slip out of bed, but her movements roused Logan. He reached out to gather her close. For a moment she wanted to give in to the warmth and security his arms offered, but she knew it would be foolish. In the afterglow of last night, it would feel good, but in reality the deeper she let herself get involved, the worse it would hurt later. She could not allow Logan to break her heart.

Instead of yielding to temptation, she poked him in the ribs. "Hey, lazy. It's time to get to the lab."

He looked at her dully, then she saw him glance at the clock. "So," he mumbled sleepily, "you want to work today?"

"Yeah, it's Friday," she said. "You've got to get your slides ready for your presentation next week, and I've got six more spectra to process." She started to get up, but realized she was naked. So was Logan. Fae had always been very shy about exposing her body. "Turn your head," she said.

Logan lay there and smiled. "After last night, you don't want me to see you naked?"

"Last night it was dark and you didn't 'see' me." She made shooing motions with her hand. "Turn away so I can get my robe."

Fortunately Logan had an early seminar scheduled with some grad students. Fae was uncomfortable anyway, and if Logan had not had to leave, she would have felt obligated to offer to fix breakfast for him. That would have implied a level of intimacy that would lead to disaster. She could barely hide her feelings for Logan as it was. With her misshapen face, she knew he could never lover her, but now he held her heart in his socially clumsy hands. Fae knew she had to protect herself. Once he was out the door, she put her plan in motion.

#

The next week, while Logan was at the Paris conference on exoplanet atmospheres, Fae got busy. The attraction she felt for Logan scared her to death, and she knew she had to get away before he broke her heart. After lunch on Monday, she called Mattsen in Hawaii. Dr. Richard Mattsen headed the exoplanet research team at the University of Hawaii, and she had met him at a conference they both had attended at La Palma in the Canary Islands last year. At the conference, had as much as offered her a position with his research team, and now she had to see if he was still willing to let her work on his project. Mattsen not only remembered her, he was even more eager to have her go to work for him in Hawaii. The rest of the week, she worked hard on the computer. She wanted to get as much of the data analyzed as possible for the journal article they were writing, and she dug into the work first thing on Monday morning. With luck she thought she would finish before Logan got back.

That week went by in a frantic blur of work for Fae. Fortunately, the data came together well for the paper they were writing. She sent daily progress updates to Logan, and he responded enthusiastically even suggesting some additional analysis to include the metallicity of the primary stars in the analysis.

The professional exchanges she could handle, but his personal emails and messages tore at her heart. He talked only briefly about the conference, but he wrote at length about what he saw and did in Paris. Logan had never written her about his personal experiences before. It was almost as if he was trying to share being in Paris with her. In one message he said plainly, "I wish you were here to see this with me." She almost cried. She wanted to be there with him in the City of Lights, to walk hand in hand along the Seine, too... 

But he would be home soon. After a week in Paris around all the pretty European girls, Logan would take one look at little smash-face Fae and go laughingly back to the other girls. He would not be intentionally cruel, she knew him too well. Nonetheless, Fae's heart would be crushed just as flat. She was carefully neutral in her replies, and she dodged his requests for a video link.

She had been mentally preparing for a showdown with Logan at the lab on Monday morning so she was completely unprepared when he knocked on her door late Saturday afternoon. "Fae!" he called. "Open up. I've got a side show of Paris I put together on the fight home this morning. I want to show it to you."

Logan was still excited from the trip and the conference, and he carried her right along with him. She enjoyed seeing his pictures of Paris, but well into the show he popped up a picture of Zeke Barnstable, and the conversation took a bad turn. "Hey, Barnstable was there, and I showed him some of our preliminary work, and he wants to come out for our observing run in May. He and Kim Suyat want to check out the..." His enthusiasm trailed off when he noticed Fae was shaking her head, no. "What? What do you mean, no?" he asked.

This was the moment Fae dreaded, but she he to do it. For her own peace of mind, she had to say it. "Logan, I won't be there in May."

"What? Why not? Did something come up?"

She took a deep breath and said, "Logan, I'm going out to Hawaii to join Mattsen's team in two weeks. You will have to get someone else to run the data." There. She had said it. She hated herself as she watched Logan's face fall as he absorbed the news.

Logan sat there and looked at her silently for a while. Finally he shook his head, no, and said. "No, Fae. You can't do that. I won't let you," he said firmly.

Of all the reactions she had considered, she had not expected this. He refused to let her go? What right did he have to determine what she did. Angry now, Fae stood up. "What do you mean you won't let me?" She was not shouting, but she had raised her voice. As she said it, a wave of indignation enveloped her. Of all the self-centered, controlling male attitudes... "You have no right to tell me what to do!" This time she was shouting, and hearing the words made her just all the more angry. She started a swing to slap him, but Logan caught her arm. He caught her other arm when she tried to slap him with her other hand.

He stood up still holding her forearms. "Will you shut up a minute and listen!" he growled. Standing, he loomed over her. She tried to shake free of his grip, but he was too strong. "Geez," he muttered, "when you get like this, you remind me of your mother." Before she could respond to that remark, Logan gripped her arms more tightly and pulled her closer. "You've got to let me say this, because I've been working up the courage for a whole week now. Are you ready to listen?"

Although her face was still flushed with the heat of anger, she relaxed as little. "Okay," she finally said quietly. Let him make his little speech, then out he goes, she thought to herself.

Logan took a deep breath and looked at her intently. "Fae, I didn't mean you can't go to Hawaii. You can go anywhere you want. The only thing is, I have to come with you." He looked away. "Aw, I'm not saying it right." Looking back into her eyes he said, "All week in Paris, I missed you. I wanted you to be there with me so we could see things together. I finally figured it out. I'm such a dummy." He smiled. "It took me way too long, but now I'm certain." He paused and Fae saw tears in his eyes. "Fae, I love you."

The words hung in the air, but Fae did not understand. "What?" she finally gasped.

"I love you, Fae." Logan sounded more confident this time. Fae recognized the words, but they were the last thing she had expected to hear. He pulled her gently towards him and said, "I just want to be with you, Fae. I love you."

Logan leaned closer, and Fae automatically tipped her head up to meet his lips. He hesitated just a moment then leaned forward closing the last half-inch between them, Instead of the soft pressure of his lips, a fiery flash of pain swept across her face, but in an instant it was gone as if it had never been. Logan was kissing her, and she groaned in welcome. He dropped her arms and drew her close. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and they kissed for a long time totally oblivious to the world around them.

Finally they broke apart. Fae wiped the tears from her eyes and let Logan guide her to the couch. She sat down and Logan knelt in front of her. He fished in his pocket and took her hand. "Like I said, I finally figured it out. I would have done this on top of the Eiffel Tower if you had been there with me, but I had to bring this back to you." He held out a ring to her. "Fae, would you marry me?" His hand trembled a little. "Please?"

Completely speechless, Fae sat there with her mouth open. The ring was right in front of her. She reached out to touch it. As she took it in her hands, tears flooded from her eyes. She managed to choke out, "Oh, Logan..." but could get no farther. She blinked and wiped at her eyes with the back of one hand while she tried to see the ring in her other.

She had no idea how long she stared at the ring before Logan said, "Fae?" He waited a moment, then said, "Please say you will marry me."

Logan's eyes had tears in them as well. She looked down at the ring then back at Logan. As lightning fast as she was with theoretical calculations, her mind might as well have been made of frozen jello. Marry? Marry Logan? She had never... Suddenly, she knew the right answer. "Yes!" she laughed nervously. "Yes, I'll marry you Logan."

He whooped with joy, and she threw her arms around him. They hugged and laughed for minutes. Finally he drew back and took her hand with the ring. He took the ring and pushed it onto the ring finger of her left hand. Fae looked at it still finding it hard to believe what she saw. Married? She was going to get married? Logan wanted to marry her?

They laughed and talked and giggled together for a long time. Finally Logan's stomach growled, and Fae realized it was way past supper time. "Are you hungry?" she asked.

Logan laughed. "Who can deny what the stomach has announced." He looked at his watch. "Whew. I'm still on Paris time, and it's way after midnight for me. I'm surprised my eyes are still open."

"How about a pizza?" she offered. "I've got a frozen one we could nuke. That would be quick."

Logan rubbed his eyes and yawned. "Yeah, sounds good. Let's do it."

Fifteen minutes later they were eating pizza at the table in the kitchen. Fae had opened a bottle of wine because... Well, because she felt like celebrating.

They ate quickly, and Fae just dumped the dishes in the sink when they were done. Suddenly shy and very much aware of the ring on her finger, she turned to Logan. "Now what?" she asked. "Do you... Do you want to stay?"

Logan started to reply but as he opened his mouth, he yawned cavernously. "Sure. Yeah." He yawned again then chuckled. "Yeah, that would be great, but I'm just about out on my feet here. You wouldn't mind if, you know, I just kind of slept, would you?"

She laughed. Her own emotional turmoil had left her feeling strained and tired. Even though it was not late, the thought of going to bed early sounded wonderful. She let Logan use the bathroom first, and by the time she had gotten herself ready and into her pajamas, Logan was sound asleep on the bed. She pushed aside his arm which was sprawled across her pillow and climbed in beside him.

#

She woke up with Logan stroking her hair and nuzzling her neck. The bedside clock was out of sight, and she reached out to find it. The digital numbers said, "5:18." She put the clock back and leaned back against him. "Logan," she groaned, "it's still early."

"Sorry," he murmured against her shoulder. "It's the time change thing." He gave a soft laugh. "That and waking up beside you."

Fae let her sandy eyes slide closed again. "Look," she mumbled, "if you're wake, why don't you know... Go shower and whatever. Give me 'till 6:00."

"Sure," he said. "I can do that." The the mattress jumped and wiggled as he got up and out of bed. She heard the water start in the shower but nothing after that.

Later, she hoped it was at least 6:00, she woke to find Logan leaning over the bed kissing her. Now at least she felt like she could keep her eyes open. She sat up and motioned for him to crawl in bed. "I'll be right back. Just give me a second." She got out of bed and tottered out of the room. In the bathroom there was enough illumination from the window to navigate, and she did not bother turning on the light. After she had brushed her teeth and touched up a bit, she went back to the bedroom. Logan lay there on the bed looking at her in anticipation. Fae suddenly felt shy, and she slipped quickly back into bed pulling the sheet over them both.

Logan was wide awake and not shy at all about taking her in his arms. They kissed slowly and easily for the longest time. Finally he whispered in her ear. "This is just what I dreamed about last week in Paris," She stroked his back then ran her fingers up through his hair.

They shifted around a little, and now Fae was on her back with Logan up on one elbow looking down at her. He smiled and traced his finger down her nose, over her lips, and over the end of her chin. He did not stop there but went down the line of her neck to the top button of her nightshirt. He popped the button easily and traced his finger down her sternum to the next button. He popped that one as well.

Fae felt a little flutter of nervousness. Although they had been together twice before, those two couplings had been spontaneous, passion-fueled extravaganzas. This time, however, they were slowly and deliberately going to make love. She laughed a little and lay savoring the word. Love! They were going to make love!

Looking puzzled, Logan said, "What?"

She laughed again and leaned up to kiss him. "Just me being silly." She undid the other two buttons on her pajama tops and tossed the garment off the bed. She lay back and pulled his head to her breasts. He started kissing them, and that was just fine with her. Each kiss was a feathery little rosebud of sensation. She felt like she was being worshiped as he kissed on, around, and under her breasts. Eventually he reached her nipples, and Fae realized she had been holding her breath. Sigh sighed a long contented sigh as he suckled at her breasts.

"Like that, huh?" he asked unnecessarily and went back to kissing her chest. Now he started to use his tongue gently on her breasts, and soon he worked his way up licking her nipples to taught, glory. Fae knew her breasts were not large, but Logan seemed to find more than enough to keep him busy. No one had ever sucked and tugged at her nipples before, and Fae found it rousingly erotic.

Soon he left her breasts and started working his way lower down her body. He took his time, but soon he was nuzzling at the cleft in her pussy. Fae held her breath, but then she felt it—the squirming slick pressure of his tongue against her sensitive clit. "Oh, my god!" she gasped. "Oh, Logan..." She could not think of anything to say. Instead she just moaned inarticulately while he gently explored her most sensitive places. She needed to cum, but he took his time slowly licking and kissing her sex. Finally she grabbed his hair and pulled his face tight against her pussy. Logan got the message, and after several quick, strong flicks of his tongue, she shrieked in relief and spasmed against him.

Once she could talk again, she curled around to where he had moved to escape her thrashing legs, Fae pulled him close and realized she could taste her own musky scent on his lips. Logan had made her come with his mouth, and the thought inflamed her. She pushed him back, crawling on top of him and covering his face with kisses.

"Did you like that?" Logan asked at one point when his mouth was free.

"No, I loved it!" she answered licking at his nose. "And I want to show you how much."

Although Logan was larger than she was, Fae was on top now, and she pushed his arms back over his head as she maneuvered herself around to find his hard, sharp cock with her dripping pussy. After a subtle shift of his legs, Fae suddenly found the right angle and celebrated the feeling of intrusion into her body as his cock slid home. Fully astride him, she adjusted herself until she could move with ease up and down on his rigid member. Each time he was inside her, it seemed better than before.

She started and unconscious chant, "Uh, fuck. Uh, fuck," with each stroke. Tensing and releasing the muscles in her thighs amplified her sensations. There was no feeling of pushing and pulling in her loins. It was all just slipping and sliding, and with every stroke her excitement grew. As her pace quickened, Logan reached up and pinched her nipples. The pulse of pleasure and pain together traveled directly to her pussy, and her orgasm exploded. Gasping incoherently she finally lay against Logan's chest trying to get her breath. He rolled her to one side, but he rolled right along with her maintaining their connection. In another moment he was on top. He pushed his cock into her gently and kissed her lips.

She kissed him back fiercely. "Again," she gasped. "Can you make me cum again?" He smiled and moved inside her. "Ah," Fae sighed. "Again!"

His next stroke was more forceful, and the one after that followed rapidly. He picked up the pace even more, and Fae started chanting along with each thrust as she built rapidly to another climax. Logan strained against her and gasped as his own orgasm swept over him. Fae felt the pulsing in her loins as they both came together.

For a long time neither of the them said anything. Gradually their breathing slowed. Fortunately Logan was supporting himself by his elbows, but the dual heat of their bodies became uncomfortable. Logan rolled off of her and muttered, "Whew!" Then he propped his head up with his hand, and he looked at her. "Hey, I think we are getting better at this." She blushed, but she had to admit he was right. She leaned over and kissed him. He looked at her as she pulled away again. "Fae, I love you," he said simply. 

She sighed and felt the last of her protective barriers finally slide down out of the way. "Yes," she said. "Logan, I do love you."

They cuddled and necked for a while. Finally Fae asked, "So what do you want to do today?"

Logan smiled. "Besides this?" He tweaked her nipple, and she smiled back and kissed him. "I don't know," he said. "I suppose we ought to tell some one, shouldn't we? I mean, about us being engaged."

"You just want to hear what my mom says."

"Well, she knows more swear words than I do," he admitted.

Fae rocked back then scooched to the side. "We can do that after while. Right now I want to get cleaned up, and we can have some breakfast."

"You'll cook breakfast for me?" Logan said with a smile.

"Sure," she said. "You like your cereal sunny-side-up, don't you?" She got out of bed and went into the bathroom. She flipped on the light switch and yawned at herself in the mirror. A stranger stared back at her.

Fae screamed, and in a moment Logan was there at her side. "What?" he cried. "What is it?"

She pointed at the mirror. "It's not... I look..." She watched a different face, a different mouth, say the words, but she could not understand what she saw.

Logan studied her reflection for a moment then looked at her face. "Hey, yeah. The little thingy on your lip is gone."

Full, well formed lips made an even line above her chin. The sneering, indented, and twisted mouth she was used to seeing was gone. She reached up and touched her face with her fingers. Perfect. Symmetrical. She stared in wonder. What had happened?