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The Chosen One

By: Starlight



Soon after his birth Paulos was exposed upon the mountainside as are all the babies in our land. After two days lying naked and unfed in the cold of the mountain he was still alive, and therefore fit to be brought back to the village to live among us.

When he was one moon old the elders of the village came to appraise Paulos. They felt his limbs, looked into his eyes and scrutinised his little penis.

“Yes,” said the senior elder, when they had finished their examination, “He is the Chosen One.”

At these words his father seemed to swell with pride and his mother burst into tears of joy. There would be no more struggling to scrape a living from the poor soil of our country, no more fear of hunger in the dark time, and instead of the harsh red wine of the common people, they would now drink nothing but the finest vintages and eat the most delicious fruits and tender meats. 

Paulos’ mother was told she must keep the boy at the breast until he was two, “So he may be nourished as the Chosen One should be,” commanded the senior elder. This was burdensome for her, but since she now no longer needed to toil in the field or tend the animals, her own well-being was sustained.

Until the child was weaned Paulos’ father Darius could no longer come upon his wife,”For,” said the senior elder, “she must remain inviolable during her nourishing of the Chosen One.” Instead Darius was given one of the younger widows of our village for his comfort. We have many widows in our village most of their men having been slain in the wars against those who seek to invade our Polis and its surrounding villages.

As the light of understanding grew upon Paulos he came to see that he was different from the other boys in the village. 

Great men from the Polis came to visit him and bent the knee before him. As the seasons came and went the village elders grew ever more respectful of his person. Two among them had special care of him, one to inculcate in him the ancient ways of our people and our gods, and most especially the Sun god Helios. The other elder gave him exercise instruction.

All the boys and young men in our Polis and the villages engaged in exercises, but some of these exercises were forbidden to Paulos. He was not permitted to engage in any game or sport that might mar or injure him. He might not box or wrestle, or play in team sports that might cause him to be damaged. Running, jumping, throwing the javelin or discus and similar exercises were permitted so his body might grow and flourish in all the aspects of male beauty. 

Paulos along with his parents and older brothers and sisters ate and drank finer victuals than any others in the village; they even enjoyed better fare than the village elders, and in the dark time of the year they never went hungry as the others did.

If Paulos asked of his parents or instructors why he was treated so differently, they would say only, “You are the Chosen One.” For what he was chosen they would not say, and became silent and guarded. 

When he approached manhood he was daily given a drink to consume. It tasted bitter and he did not like it, but he was told, “It is the juice of the herb sent to you by the Daughters of Helios who alone know the secret of its place of flourishing and its power to enlarge the phallus and make potent the male seed.”

Indeed, Paulos developed a might phallus, and it being the custom of our young men to exercise naked, the village maidens came to watch Paulos, to see his beautiful body and mighty organ and all desired him, but they were forbidden his penetration and even the touch of his phallus. 

Nor was Paulos allowed to relieve himself of his seed, and he was watched night and day to ensure that he yielded not to the temptation to emit his seed, except by nature. “Only by the will of Helios can you emit your seed,” he was told, “for to do otherwise is to weaken its power.”

Thus, if the other young men of the village were angry and jealous of his mighty phallus and superb body, so was Paulos envious of their coupling with the village maidens and their self relieving. He suffered agonies of desire for the maidens but he was constantly reminded, “You are the Chosen One of Helios and must remain pure until the time of your fulfilment.” 

“When will be the time of my fulfilment?” he would ask in the torment of his carnal hunger, but none would answer him.

Once, when his instructor lapsed briefly in his oversight, Paulos, finding himself alone and with a maiden nearby, indulged his desire to touch her breasts. She caressed his phallus telling him, “I desire you to enter me.” But one of the elders came upon them and the instructor and the maiden were put to death.

Paulos wept for the instructor and the maiden and he was admonished by the senior elder; “Had you entered the maiden or emitted your seed at her hand, you too would have joined them in the abyss of despair.”

After that, an even sterner watch was kept upon Paulos.

When he was full grown and the dark of the year was upon the land and Helios did not show his face to our people, the elders came to him. “Now is the time of the Chosen One,” the senior elder said.

Against the cold of the dark of the year they clothed Paulos in rare furs and they began a journey of one day into the mountains. Reaching a wide plateau they were met by a group of women clad like Paulos, in furs. 

One tall and exquisitely beautiful woman stepped forward to meet them.

“I am the High Priestess of The Daughters of Helios and am come to claim the Chosen One,” she said.

The senior elder bowed low to her and responded, “We give unto you the Chosen One,” and then turning to Paulos he went on, “Now is the time of your fulfilment. You must go with the Daughters of Helios, and begin your service to the god. Farewell Chosen One, and may the sacred signs of Helios be upon you.”

The elders turned away and began their descent of the mountain. A bewildered Paulos watched them as their figures diminished until he could see them no more.

A hand touched his arm. “Come, Chosen One and have the joy of the Daughters of Helios.” It was the beautiful woman who had greeted them. She took his hand and drew him away in the opposite direction from the elders.

They began to descend from the plateau and within a short space of time they entered a valley, the entrance of which was hardly visible to the uninitiated eye. A short distance further on and they came upon a large building clad in white marble and gracefully made. Paulos had never seen such a fine building even among the beautiful structures he had seen on his only visit to the Polis.

“What is this place? “he asked in an awestruck voice.

“It is the temple of Helios,” the lady replied. “It is where you will now live among us to serve the god Helios.”

Entering the temple Paulos found it to be warm after the bitter cold of the mountains, yet he could not see any fires like those in the village huts. He asked about this and the lady replied, “The fire is beneath the building and is tended by the slaves of Helios throughout the dark time of the year. The fire warms air that flows through stone channels to reach all the rooms of the temple.

The lady clapped her hands, and two lovely naked young girls hastened forward. “Conduct the Chosen One to his apartments,” she said, the turning to Paulos she went on, “I shall come to you later to instruct you in how you shall serve Helios.”

The girls led Paulos along passages soft with wool carpets beneath his feet. Everywhere naked women of all ages and great beauty came and went. Shortly they came upon bronze doors that swung open at the touch of one of the girl’s hands.

“Here are your apartments, Chosen One,” the other girl said. 

Paulos entered and was amazed at the luxury he saw. Rich hangings of silk and wool embellished with figures entwined in the many acts of love between men and women, many depicting bodily contacts that even in the most feverish moments of his frustrated desires he had never imagine. 

Not only was it men and women who embraced and coupled, but also strange creatures half man and half horse of which Paulos had heard in his instruction. He struggled to recall their name; “Ah, yes, Satyrs.” They were said to live in the deep woodlands from whence they came storming out to ravish young women. The young women and girls of the villages lived half fearful half desirous for their coming. On the hangings the girls coupling with the satyrs were depicted as lost in the mists of ecstatic delight.

There were statues around the room also depicting lascivious unions, and one, the most sportive and wanton of them all, a bull headed Minotaur, his giant phallus about to enter a rapturous young women.

The girls led Paulos to an immense couch festooned with soft cushions, and one said to him, “Come Chosen One,” let us divest you of your furs and garments, for all go unclothed here.”

His garments were taken from him and so stimulated was he by the female nakedness with which he was surrounded and the voluptuous decorations, that he was seen to have a mighty erection.

His phallus stood like a massive tower he had seen on his visit to the Polis. It had been the city watch tower from where guards scoured with their eyes the surrounding countryside for the approach of enemy forces.

Only once had Paulos been alone with a young girl, and she not naked, but she had died for the touch of his organ. 

The two girls, seeing his huge phallus giggled and one said, “The High Priestess will be with you soon,” and still giggling they left him alone.

Paulos wandered the other rooms, finding in one a massive marble lined sunken area with spouts depicting open mouthed leopards. He had seen nothing like it before, not even in the Polis.

A voice behind him said, “This is for your cleansing.”

Paulos whirled round, and before him stood the High Priestess, no longer clad in her furs, but naked.”

“Come,” she said, “enter and bathe.”

Paulos was puzzled because he could not understand how he might bathe without water.

The High Priestess clapped her hands, and simultaneously two girls, different from those who had conducted him to his rooms, entered. At the same time perfumed water began to pour from the leopard’s mouths discharging into the sunken marble area.

“These are your maidens of cleansing,” the High Priestess said, “The will tend you, and then bring you to me.”

The girls took Paulos by his hands and led him down steps into what was now clearly a pool of sweet and fragrant warm water.

He laid chest deep in the water while the girls stroked and massaged his body, paying special attention to his phallus. This so aroused his desire he sought to touch and hold the girls, but they broke from his embrace saying, “Not yet, Chosen One.”

When he had risen out of the water the girls dried him with soft towels and bade him lie on a nearby couch where they massaged him with exotic oils, again paying particular attention to his phallus that now was throbbing with almost uncontrollable desire.


Finished, they took him by the hands again, and led him to the room with the huge couch, and there, reclining, lay the High Priestess.

Led up to her, she extended her hand and said, “Come, lie with me, Chosen One. Now is the time for you to implant your seed in me.”

“But it is death for both of us if I enter you,” Paulos cried out.

“The High Priestess smiled upon him and said, “Not so, Chosen One. That is now past. This is the time of your fulfilment. You shall serve me once in the implantation of your seed, and from then on, every need, every delight of your imaging and beyond shall be yours. Young acolyte virgins shall be at your command; mature priestesses shall instruct you in the ways of love as you see them depicted all around you. Whatever you desire, is yours to command. Your service to Helios is to make many Daughters of Helios fruitful.”

She paused for a moment, then went on, “There is but one charge I lay upon you, no matter what acts of love you desire, always your seed must be poured into the womb. It is for you to give us daughters to be the acolytes, priestesses and even the High Priestess in the future.”

“But what if they bring forth boys?” Paulos asked.

The High Priestess replied, “Helios has other uses for them.” She said no more.

With those words the High Priestess lay back upon the couch, and spreading her long lovely legs apart, revealed her pudendum to the fascinated gaze of Paulos, who had never seen female genitalia so exposed before.

The High Priestess placed her hands on the outer lips of her organ and opened them to reveal other pink lips beneath and a narrow entrance. 

“I see you are ready, Chosen One,” she whispered hoarsely, “Enter and fertilise me; you shall find it sweet and warm inside.”

For all his long frustrated desire to know a woman Paulos was bewildered and uncertain how he should proceed. But guided by the High Priestess, he lay between her open legs and she guided his phallus to her entrance.

“Now push gently in,” she gasped.

Paulos entered and gasped as once inside he felt his phallus gripped as if by a tender vice, and at the same time was sucked into her. He felt her warm moistness engulf his organ and he cried out, “Helios be praised, this is a wonder beyond all wonders.”

The High Priestess began to raise and lower her hips so as to make him slid back and forth inside her organ, and soon he was able to match his rhythm to hers.

The High Priestess began to shudder and cry out as she clasped Paulos to her, her legs wound round him. Paulos felt his emission approaching and as the High Priestess cried out, “Ah…ah…ah…aaaah, he gave a loud groan and for the first time his seed was released into a woman. The High Priestess ended with a piercing cry of ecstasy, then began to calm, and as Paulos ended his discharge into her they both became tranquil.

The peace that followed was unlike any Paulos had felt before. He was filled with joy at the loveliness of their union and having for so long been denied access to women, he was soon ready to discharge into the High Priestess again, but she cast him from her.

“However much you may desire to do so,” the High Priestess admonished him, “You may only come upon me once.” There are sufficient and more to satisfy your ardour, but it will death for any that you couple with twice. If you are ready I shall choose another for you to fertilise, but thereafter you shall choose for yourself.”

Once more she clapped her hands and two acolytes appeared.

“Cleanse the Chosen One,” she commanded them, “and when he has fertilised the one whom I shall send, take him among the acolytes and priestesses that he may choose whom he hungers for.”

Paulos was bathed again, and upon his return to the couch room a woman awaited him. She did not lie back ready to receive him, but lay beside him and said in a slow alluring voice, “You have expelled your seed once in haste, and now let me teach how to play.”

Her lips closed over his, opening them with her tongue. Paulos felt her tongue exploring the recesses of his mouth, tasting him as she aroused him to fresh heights of desire.

She drew his hand to her breast, closing his fingers over its rounded plumpness. Paulos needed no further instruction and he proceeded to caress her and feeling her sweet nipple he desired to suck upon it. 

He broke from the kiss and laid the woman on her back and proceeded to suckle her as a hungry child might.

“You learn quickly Chosen One,” the woman murmured, and taking his hand she placed it between her thighs, drawing it up to her pudendum to insert a finger.

“Move you finger over me, Chosen One,” she pleaded.

Paulos commenced his exploration of the female organ by touch and was amazed at its softness and complexity. He released the nipple he was suckling and said, “I desire to look upon your womanhood.”

The woman smiled and replied, “Let that be for another, Chosen One. There is much time and many whom you must fertilise. Now lie upon your back that I may give you joy.”

Paulos lay on his back and the woman sat astride him, lowering herself upon him until his phallus was touching her entrance, then she dropped quickly, making him cry out with pleasure at the sudden penetration.

Having caused him to enter her, the woman then became still and said, “You have a mighty organ, Chosen One, you will give pleasure to many.” She gazed into his eyes for a little longer then began slow exquisite movements along his shaft, pausing at the end of each withdrawal and penetration.

After a while her movements became more rapid and intense, and Paulos saw her close her eyes and begin little cries that were unlike those of the High Priestess. At first the words sounded like a rejection of what they were doing; “No…no…no…I cannot bear it,” yet she did not stop. Then like the High priestess she started to shake and her cries changed to triumphant, “Yes, oh yes, spear me to the heart.” Then came a moment when she gave a fierce cry of, “Oh by Helios, by Helios, slay me now.” 

At this cry Paulos felt the first thrust of seed along his shaft, and he poured into her with mighty plunges at each jolt of his emission.

When they had finished the woman lay with Paulos still inside her and said, “Praise be to Helios for such a coupling. I would that I could take you to my bed and keep you there for ever, Chosen One, but it is forbidden.”

“That I know full well,” sighed Paulos. “I too wish to join you in your bed for ever.”

The woman withdrew from him and in a voice that hinted of tears said, “The acolytes shall tend you now.” With that, she left him. 

The acolytes did not bathe him this time; instead they brought a bronze bowl of water and cleansed his phallus. Then taking him by the hands they led him from his apartments to see other rooms. 

He was taken first to what was called, “The House of the Acolytes.” Here he saw young women engaged in various activities ranging from the singing of the sacred songs of Helios, the practising of flute and lyre to which some danced and yet others engaged the repair and making of the sacred vestments for the priestesses.

Paulos was fascinated by the music and dancers, so different from the rough peasant music and dances of his village.

“I would that they could play and dance for me,” he sighed.

“Chosen One,” said one of the acolytes escorting him, “they shall play and dance for you whenever you wish. Where you not told that your every desire shall be fulfilled?”

“Let them dance for me,” replied Paulos, “but now I hunger and would eat.”

“Come then, Chosen One; tomorrow you shall see the House of the Priestesses, but now let us return to your rooms where food and wine shall be brought to you whule the acolytes play and dance.”

The food and wine surpassed anything he had experienced in his village, and at first he became a glutton stuffing himself with every delicacy. After he realised that he might eat of the finest whenever he wished he partook more moderately. As he ate hidden musicians played and four acolytes danced for him. This he found distracting because they were very beautiful and their dances enticing. 

When he had finished eating he pointed to one of the dancers and said, “I desire you, come to me.” She approached him, swaying her hips, and Paulos seized and hurled her to the couch and took her in the presence of the other girls, and all the time his desired one whispered, “Yes, fill me with your seed that I may be fruitful.”

When he had finished with her he seized upon another dancer and enjoyed her. 

If he ate more abstemiously, in one respect Paulos did not become moderate. Where female flesh was concerned he remained a glutton until his seed and energy was too depleted for him to continue impregnating further women.


The Chosen One



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Click Here to hear the author read the story. (7.5 min/RealMedia)

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"Thank god it's Friday,” she thought as she sat down at the bar and ordered a drink. She had had the worst week ever and was looking to unwind. After a bad week she sometimes liked to come to the local club, have a few drinks and see what situations could develop for a voyeur such as herself. She found it very stress relieving to put all her energy into "pleasing the crowd". So far nothing looked promising, so she ordered another drink, flirted a little with the bartender and made another quick scan of the room. There, sitting in a shadowy corner she picked her unsuspecting partner for the evenings entertainment. Never taking her eyes off the dark haired godsend, she picked up her drink and headed toward him. She never worried that the "chosen one" wouldn’t be game, they always were. After all they were "MEN", and men always welcomed an opportunity to show off their "ass-ets" so to speak. 

When she reached his table she extended her hand and introduced herself. He looked straight into her blue eyes, shook her hand and said, "I'm Tom, would you like to join me?" Pulling her chair up beside his, she sat down knowing she'd picked the right one. 
As they sat there making small talk and drinking their drinks she slid her hand under the table and stroked his thigh, he never flinched. Higher and higher her fingers climbed up his leg, stopping just before she reached his manhood. Their eyes were fixed on each other, seeing one another’s desires. A slow song began to play; Tom took her hand and made their way to the dance floor. "No better place to entice her would be voyeurs,” she thought. Tom held her close to him, his arms tight around her waist, hers around his neck. She gyrated against his sex as they danced seductively, she felt his hardness lurch against her. His hands moved down to her firm, round buttocks, caressing it. She was looking around to see if they were being watched, to her delight they were. His fingers were kneading her through the thin material of her skirt, pulling it up little by little as they worked. With her skirt just below her cheeks, his hands slid under it to cup them. He looked at her with wide eyes when he touched her bare skin, a smile crept across his face. She kissed him, grinding on his throbbing shaft. His hands slid the back of her skirt up higher exposing her creamy flesh to all. He drug his fingernails across the sensitive skin, making her moan softly in his ear. 

All to soon the song was over, he pulled her skirt down; smoothing it out was an excuse to keep touching her. There was an outdoor patio just off the dance floor. She headed toward it, summoning him with her lust filled eyes. Walking through the door he saw her sitting at the far end on top of a picnic table, she was leaning back on one hand, her long blonde hair falling over her shoulders, hiding the mounds of flesh exposed by her now open blouse. Her shapely legs were slightly open, her skirt barely covering her. He started toward her, noticing on the other side 3 men were sitting, watching. When he stopped in front of her she opened her legs a little more and motioned with her finger for him to kneel down, he did as she wished. He was excited by the thought of being with this woman, by the thought of being watched by the no doubt envious men 10 feet away. With him kneeling she spread her legs more, letting him know her intentions without saying a word. He licked his lips unconsciously, he could hardly wait to taste her sweetness. He ran his hands up the outside of her silky thighs, leaning in to kiss her knee as he did. He wasted no time, planting soft, wet kisses back and forth from leg to leg until he reached paradise.

Sitting there on the table with this heavenly creature between her legs, she was watching the 3 men. They had stopped talking, their undivided attention turned to her and what was happening. She put her index finger in her mouth and sucked it seductively, then running it down her neck to her breasts and around her nipples. She tilted her head back so that her hair uncovered her perky breasts. Pinching her already pert nipples, she could see the 3 men beginning to be aroused, she loved it. 

Tom's tongue began to swirl around her swollen button, he slid a finger into her making her arch and push into his touch. He moved his free hand up to cup her breasts, she put her hand on top of his. Guiding his hand to her mouth she licked each of his fingertips, slowly, sexily. She was grinding on his finger, the cunnilingus was making her hotter, wetter. She was ready, she wanted his pulsating cock in her, she backed away giving him the unspoken signal. He stood up, caressing her breasts, kissing her so that she could taste her own sweet juices still wet on his lips. She licked his lips, reaching down she unzipped his jeans and took his massive shaft into her hand and began to stroke him, he groaned like an animal in heat. She stood and bent over the end of the table, her beautiful ass high in the air. From this angle she could still see her audience and they her, she noticed them getting restless, rubbing their own hardening cocks through their jeans, exciting her even more. 

She felt Tom pressing her from behind, his hardness lurching against her. Reaching behind her she guided him to the steamy opening of her slit. Slowly he entered her, inch by inch, until she had all of him. They fit together like a hand and glove. Holding on to the sides of the table, she pushed back into his thrust. She was in no mood for a slow lovemaking, she simply wanted release and satisfaction. Moaning softly she commanded him to pump faster, thrust harder. She was near climax, she could feel his engorged head inside of her getting even bigger, and she knew he was close as well. She glanced at her beloved voyeurs, they were watching intently, one was actually masturbating, this added to her own arousal. Seeing how horny they were took her to the edge, she told Tom she was going to cum. Tom was ready, her tightness and contracting muscles brought him to climax at the same time, they moaned and convulsed together riding out the waves of their climax. He slid out of her, slowly, cum ran down her creamy thighs as she pushed her skirt down. Checking to see how her admirers were doing she caught the final twitches of the one who was masturbating to their "show", she was immensely pleased. They never noticed the other small group of on lookers that had gathered by the door, it was the applauding and whooping that brought them to their attention; she just smiled at them sheepishly.

She told Tom she was leaving and headed to the patio exit, he called to her to wait, he wanted to walk her to her car. Neither of them said a word as they walked the short distance to the parking lot. When they reached her car he opened her door, as she was getting in she winked at him and said "thanks hon, see you at home".



The Chosen One



He stood in the dark alley alone. Embracing the darkness, you barely saw him. He wore just black, matching his jet black hair. His eyes didn't match his dark attire at all. They were a bright dangerous blue. They sparkled with deadly interest as a female passed by the opening of the alley. He then heard giggling not too far off and knew there were two of them. He then made his move. They were just about to pass him when he bumped into them.

"I'm sorry." He murmured quickly. 

"Watch where you're going!" One of the girls said with detest. But the other one just smiled and checked him over. 

Hooked one in, he thought coldly. "'I'll make it up to you." He answered easily. "We'll go get something to drink, it's on me."

They both smiled then and said,"Alright." He then took them to a bar and bought them a few rounds. Later on, they were back at the alley where he stood not that long ago, awaiting his prey. The one with dirty brown hair was named Jade, was making out with him. Her supple body was rubbing against his, and he felt another stab of hunger run through him. The other woman's name was Heather and she was clinging to him as he fingered her up against the wall. Both of them were moaning, and he noted that, this was a normal man's dream. Too bad he wasn't normal.

He trailed little wet kisses down her jaw and then settled upon her neck. He bit lightly, loving how she gasped in pain and pleasure, and also how she arched up against him. He then unleashed his fangs and slid them slowly into her slender neck. 

She moaned and he could faintly feel her fingernails digging into his back. He swallowed the blood that pounded into his mouth every time her heart beat and knew she was his now. She didn't know he was doing this to her, she thought she was getting an intense hickey. 

After a moment, she then vaguely knew what he was doing. She started gasping and started to struggle weakly, but he held her there tightly up against the wall. While he moved away from her and to his next prey, she shuddered in her last breath and then lay still. 

Jade's body slowly fell to the ground. When her friend Heather asked about her, he answered, "She's only resting. I gave her the orgasm of her life." And smiled wickedly. The orgasm of death, that is, his thought finished it. She gasped as he bit her lightly, teasing her. She pushed him back a tad, stepped out of her thong so it would give him better access of her. He then picked her up and set her upon an empty crate. Her skirt rode up her thighs, as he fingered her more thoroughly. He then took the bait, and not softly this time. 

He bit her hard and savagely. She gasped for breath, trying to scream. He held her tightly against him, loving how she tried to struggle out of his grasp, but to no prevail. She then cried out from her orgasm and death. He stepped away from her, her blood dripping down his lips. 

While he was doing that to Heather, another girl walked down the street, thinking, Jesus has risen, it's no surprise. It was a song called Bosom sung by A Perfect Circle. They were her favorite band. The song reminded her about vampires, why she didn't know. 

Ahead of her a gang stood there, awaiting her. She didn't know, for she couldn't see them and plus her mind was elsewhere. She went past the alley that he was in and sucking Heather dry, not knowing what was happening in there.

Sometime earlier on it had begun to drizzle and she just now noticed. She went past the gang, not knowing that they were targeting her. They slowly but surely fell into step with her. 

"Hey girl!" One called out.

"What you doing tonight?" 

"Why don't you give Antonio some lovin'?"

Another snickered. 

She quickly walked away, but someone had grabbed at her arm, holding her back. "No one walks away from me!" Someone said coldly behind her and they all quickly surrounded her. Someone slapped her hard on the cheek, and she threw a punch at him landing squarely in his chin, and he fell back with a grunt. There were only three of them now. 

She kicked out and her foot connected solidly to a chest, which flew back, gasping for breath. Someone behind her threw a small long chain around her slender neck and started to choke her, while another man punched her in the stomach, knocking the breath out of her in a whoosh. She gasped but couldn't get any air. Her lungs felt like they were on fire and the man that was punching her wasn't helping either. 

Her fingers somehow crawled underneath the chain and held it, trying to get sweet precious air back in her lungs. She grunted from frustration and anger. She leaned back against her attacker, using him as an advantage and kicked the man in front of her in the head and he went down, sprawling on the ground. 

They were close to the wall now, so she ran up it and flipped over the man that was trying to strangle her. She gulped in damp cold air as she twisted the chain around his neck. She squeezed the chain so hard that her knuckles were white and aching, and in a matter of seconds he was unconscious.   She sighed with relief and stood away looking at what she had done. "Nice work." She commented herself as she surveyed the scene. They all laid there unconscious. She turned away; ready to leave when she bumped into a tall broad cheated-dark man. Shit, not another one! She thought quickly. She ran the other way swiftly, trying to get away from him. What can I do? She thought.

She ran inside the alley, climbed on a crate and waited for him. He appeared in the mouth of the alley and saw her, which caught her off guard. She jumped on him, trying to knock him down, but he still stood, like brick wall!!!

And holding her!!!

Shit! Now what? She cried inside her mind as she punched him. But then he grabbed her wrists and now she couldn't do anything! He then pushed her up against the wall and kissed her fiercely. 

Now her mind was reeling with thoughts. Why is he kissing me? Is he going to rape me? He's a good kisser and has blue eyes. Is he going to kill me? Fuck! What should I do!?! But then he bit her neck. At first it was excoriating, but then exciting and somehow pleasurable. She then heard a moan, and to her dismay, she realized it came from her! 

It was her! his mind cried. Her blood pounded into his mouth, tasting sweet, spicy and metallic all the same time. Her blood even tasted like fire for it was burning through his veins. His heart pounded, and he felt like crying, for it was her. His mate, the chosen one! His pulses were rising his temples were pounding, the pressure was so a warning, so steady, and yet ready to blow. What are you, what are you waiting for!?! His mind cried and it echoed in his mind. 

As if reading his mind she bit his neck and sucked his blood. Tasting the dead metallic taste of it. All of a sudden it felt like her body was changing, but she didn't care in the least. She wanted him, right now!!! Somewhere deep in her mind, a voice screamed at her to stop! And another voice screaming to not go away, but stay with him. An urge, a craving, a fucking need so deep that it felt like it would split her in half if she left, to stay. That she would survive. 

He kissed her then and she kissed him back with the same eagerness, ignoring the stiff pain that her body was taking on. She moaned from the pain and his touch. His hands ripped open her shirt, revealing her breasts that were covered in a red lacy bra, but that was shed away as well.

Her blood ran down her neck, collarbone, and down her left breast. He sucked and bit lightly on her nipple, which made her gasp in delight. He then licked away the trail of blood, sucking on the wound again, holding her tight against him.

She felt as if she were flying. The cool night air caressed her torso, sending delicious shivers up and down her body. She then felt that she was descending, her back then touched black silk, mixed with red. 

His mouth found hers again, claiming that she was his. And she wanted to be his. He bit down harder on her slender neck and her fingernails scraped along his back. He quickly took off his shirt and pants, and then her pants. As he slowly slid down her pants, she felt suddenly shy. She never was this intimate with anybody. Her hands crawled over to cover her sex, but he took them away, gently but firmly. He slid her legs apart slowly but reassuringly. 

"I won't hurt you. I promise." His deep voice vibrated over her skin as he slid inside her carefully. Slight pain coursed all over her body, she just vaguely felt the pain as he entered her. He rocked within her, sending delicious cravings all through her.

She moaned and bit him in the shoulder softly. He groaned and felt her soft sucklings. He couldn't stand it. He wanted to fill her, go deeper, everything that delt with her. God, how he wanted her. He then lost his control.

He pumped deeper, harder, and faster inside her, sending them both over the edge. What was I, what was I, what was I waiting for!?! His mind cried and felt his and hers release at the same time. He covered her mouth with his, breathing in her scream. 

He lay on top of her, breathing hard as she. He was about to get off of her, afraid he would crush her, but she held him to her. "Stay with me." She whispered. He kissed her and stayed. He went lower on her body, resting his head on her bosom.

In his mind, a calming thought echoed through. It was, I found her, I found my mate, my chosen one.



The Chosen One



CHAPTER 1

Stocky and dressed decidedly behind fashion, Felicity Lott handed the CEO the file and said, "You wanted our best employee for the job. Well here she is, the only downside being age."

Gavin Stone scowled, making a face threatening to dogs, infants, little old ladies and executives on the mat facing abrupt termination. It even made Felicity, head of HR and known as The Bitch, feel uncomfortable.

"An old cow will be useless, no energy and focused on her retirement package. Anyway Felicity I was expecting a male, and you knew that."

"Oh so you did Gavin, more or less."

"More of less?"

"Your exact words were, 'Find me the best man for the job and don't screw up'

"Correct."

"Well I fed into the computer the personal files of my pick of the top fifty people on our payroll capable of performing the role to your complete satisfaction. I then assessed the top five but one name was so clearly out front that I accepted the best man for the job was a woman, aged twenty-seven."

"What? She'll be still wet behind the ears. Who came in second?"

"Philip Twain." 

"Yeah, could have picked him myself except he often fails to finish. Who's next?"

"Roland Jones."

"No, being so close to Linda he'll end up seducing her. Next."

"Allen Pankhurst."

"He's divorcing his wife so his mind won't be on the job. Next."

"Cyril Owens.

"That creep. He's gay."

"That's discriminatory and ignores the fact he's a master salesman."

"Shut up Felicity. Keep you mind on your job. If I want a lecturer I'll listen to Linda. Next."

"That's the top five Gavin. As you go down the list the cracks in their suitability become crevices."

"Fuck."

"Yes sir. Shall I undress or do you wish to do that?"

"Felicity," Gavin roared. "I dislike your warped sense of humor. Bring her to me."

"Yes sir."

* * *

The last-on recruit in the legal and documentation department of the corporation that exported the military field kitchens and surgical theatres it produced to fourteen countries was Rhona Paxton. The somewhat feisty short-cropped blonde with almost iridescent cobalt blue eyes was in a dangerous mood that morning.

The reason for that began the previous night when the guy she was living with mounted her, as usual, after pulling her on to her back. He liked to fuck missionary. Rhona preferred doggy and rarely got her choice. Simon entered her and began plugging away. And that's exactly what it felt like, being plugged. There was no communication, no touching and stroking. Simon liked to whistle while he worked and as soon as he creamed somewhere up Rhona he rolled off on to his feet and went to the bathroom where he farted loudly. She'd reached the stage where she was blocking her ears. Simon never stayed on the job until he got her off. She had to do that with her fingers.

Simon arrived back at the bedside and asked, "What are you doing?"

"You always ask me that. I'm ending the job you half-finished."

"God you are crude."

"I am not."

"You are so."

That was where it usually stopped. But last night Rhona pulled her trigger.

"You asshole, you might be a top attorney but you know fuck-all about women."

"And that's all I need to know."

"You are absolutely boring in bed. You have no clues about seduction."

"Well if you were tighter in the cunt you'd get off before I did and we wouldn't have this problem. You are the problem."

Rhona fumed, "No, we have a problem and should get it sorted," 

"You stupid, emotional bitch. Get a life. I'm off to the spare room. I expect an apology at breakfast."

She spat, "Goodnight asshole."

There was no reply so she had the obligatory cry about being unhappy. When she was sure he was asleep she packed and did the obligatory thing: she went home to mother.

Her father Richard opened the door. "Another stuffed up affair?"

"Yes."

"It might help if you backed off a bit and became less demanding. Remember darling, you are dealing with men rather than intelligent, articulate and multi-tasking women."

"Get fucked dad."

He chuckled and said that was not a bad idea.

Mira came running out in her old-fashion nightdress and cried, "Oh Rhona, my darling. Come let me hug you."

They both cried and both went to the kitchen for coffee and a midnight sandwich.

Next morning Rhona watched Richard leave for work. She went up to the apartment, packed all her remaining possessions, tipped out all his drawers in the bedroom on to the floor and mixed them into one big heap and wrote in lipstick on the mirror, 'Bye-bye asshole'.

She felt a whole lot better. Rhona called up a taxi SUV and it carried the whole lot home in one trip. The cabbie helped her take everything to her bedroom and received a very generous tip and stayed for coffee with Rhona and her mom. He then took Rhona to work where she found an urgent message to call Felicity Lott.

"You're late, where have you been?"

Adopting her most cutting tone Rhona said, "Out."

"Your phone was switched off."

The answer was a cold yes.

"That's against company rules for a person in your position."

"For god's sake, I know that. What do you want?"

Felicity's temperature soared but then she remembered this was the Rhona that fitted the job that awaited her like a glove.

"A little more respect would be appreciated."

Rhona purred, "Don't you mean politeness? Respect has to be earned."

God she was good, Felicity thought, although still bristling. "Go to the elevators immediately and wait for me. The boss wants to see you."

"Yes your ladyship. Does he want me to replace you?"

"Now look her Rhona..."

"You ploughed into me without even a friendly good morning, beginning with an interrogation. You are only getting what you deserve."

Felicity did something rare for her. She apologized.

"Thank you for that Felicity. I feel better about you now. I guess I should not be meeting the boss and shooting at him from the lip just because I'm dumped my boyfriend last night."

"Oh Rhona, you poor darling. I now understand."

Rhona felt heaps better. Such selfless understanding was one of the things she liked about women.

Gavin's PA told them to pour coffee and wait until Mr Stone was able to see them.

"No, tell him to call me when he's free, I have work to do."

Rhona pulled out of Felicity's restraining arm and had just reached the elevators when there was a roar, "Come back here?"

Rhona stood, back on to the voice waiting for an elevator to arrive.

A more moderate male voice called, "I can see you now Miss Paxton."

She turned, smiled and walked towards him, straightening her hair and watching his eyes on her breasts. Well he was male, wasn't he?

"Shut the door Felicity. Well Miss Paxton..."

"You may call me Rhona."

"I'm not used to being interrupted," Gavin scowled.

Rhona yawned and said, "Excuse me. I had a rough night and am hoping for an easier day."

Gavin took at deep breath. "Do you know the name of my wife?"

"Of course."

"What do you know about her?"

"An unnatural blonde, recently turned fifty, you married her on the rebound fourteen years ago and she's borne you two children. Linda has a masters in economics and gained a masters in business administration online in half the time it normally takes graduates. She is about fifteen pounds overweight and loves to cook and dine out. She is absolutely without sporting interests, drives her Mercedes indifferently and has a ruthless streak. Her grandfather founded this company. She retired as company secretary eight years ago and has been a director for eight years and I would think her ambition is to become chairman."

"My god, how do you know all that? It's not all in our company profiles of directors."

"When I was told I was coming here to see you I re-read it for a memory refresh and phoned three people close to her who filled in the gaps for me. You see I'd already heard the rumor she would stand for upcoming election and knew she'd have a fight on her hands. It was the only thing I considered you'd want to see me about. You want me to be her minder and ease the path for her. I'm flying a kite but that's the only credible thing I could think you'd want to see me about. Perhaps if I'd been given an hour's notice I might have thought up options."

"Felicity you haven't..."

"No Gavin, and nothing about this in my computer or in any notebook. This is as much as a surprise to me as obviously it is to you. I did warn you she was good."

Rhona stifled a yawn and asked, "Am I correct about this?"

Gavin said more or less.

"Then why me? I would have thought you would have picked one of your yes men."

Gavin looking at his watch asked, "Such as?"

"Roland Jones but my top pick would be Philip Twain."

"I see. How long have you been working for us?"

"Seven months and perhaps nine days."

Felicity looked in her electronic notebook. "It is seven months and nine days. That's very precise."

"I have a tidy and active mind."

"Right, let's test it. We have forty-seven or forty-eight executives..."

"Currently forty-six – Sampson died and hasn't been replaced and Mrs Able left last Friday and her replacement doesn't start for another three weeks I think it is."

Gavin looked at Felicity who nodded. "How many of those forty-six can you name. I guess those at the plants you haven't met."

"True but I read company reports. Would you like me to name them randomly or alphabetically?

"Randomly, as many as you can. It will tell me something about your depth of knowledge of this company and the capacity of your mind."

Rhona stared at him and began naming them and reached about thirty when Gavin stopped her.

He looked impressed and looked at Felicity for her reaction. He read surprise in her reaction and so asked, "What?"

"Those names were given in order of seniority – I think without error."

"Very impressive Rhona. What I want you to do, if you accept, is to become my wife's PA and do everything you can legally to get her elected."

"Sure but don't you want me to knock around with her for a week to confirm we are compatible. I am somewhat fiery."

"No I'll brief her. She is focused on becoming chairman so will tolerate practically anything. We have a board of thirteen and it would appear the outgoing chairman will vote for Rhona, our constitution allows Linda to vote and I'll also vote for her and that means there are ten votes to secure. Albion United Bank, our largest stockholder by far, has two seats on the board and two very close allies amongst those other eight directors. Your task is to secure as many of those ten votes as you can. Linda needs seven votes to take the chair. We really need to have at least one more vote for security, even two more if we can."

"I agree. When do I start?"

"Friday. You meet Linda at lunch and move into our home where you'll be in the guesthouse. You'll breakfast and dine with us each day where I can be briefed about everything. This Saturday there will be a garden lunch at our home with all directors present and a number of our friends and business associates."

"Excellent, then I should be introduced as Linda's personal assistant."

"Why?"

"Directors will then understand why I'm talking to them about support for your wife."

"Good thinking."

"Tomorrow I'll attempt to have lunch or dinner with the head of public affairs of Albion United?"

"Why, they are the enemy?"

"Well they certainly will be if you think and talk that way."

"I see."

"My aim is to have Linda elected unopposed."

"That's impossible. Deputy chairman Alf Raymond is vice-president of the bank and wants direct control of our company."

"Then we'll have to get rid of Alf, legally, won't we?"

"Ohmigod," Felicity blurted.

"You're fucking ruthless," laughed Gavin. "The election will be held forty-two days from today. Any questions?"

"No, this will unfold."

"Good. My PA will call you regarding lunch with Linda. That's all."

Felicity and Rhona were leaving without a word when Gavin called, "Oh Rhona."

She turned.

"Thank you. I'm very impressed."

* * *

Still simmering at learning the person chosen as her support person to try to secure her bid to become chairman had said she was fifteen pounds overweight and yet had never met her. Linda Stone arrived late for lunch only to find Rhona had not yet arrived. She sat at the bar and gritted, ordering a drink. Beautiful perfume wafted to her as the person standing behind her said, "Linda?"

Linda turned and almost gasped. Gavin had not said the kid was beautiful. Well that was a big plus.

"Yes I'm Mrs Stone. Good afternoon Rhona."

"Oh hi." That came with a disarming smile and Linda was told gently, "Actually it's Rhona. Surely you don't want me, a person working so intimately with you, to call you Mrs Stone?"

Linda couldn't believe it. The young bitch was attempting to take control. "Well, I guess I'll have to think about that."

"Mrs Stone, this is not about power. This is about me paving the way for you to get what you want. The best way for us to act is attempting to act as one, as if we were joined at the hip."

"Very well. Rhona you may call me Linda. And where will you be if I chose to have an affair with a pal?"

"Might I suggest you put any behavior that could place you under criticism – and that especially means moral misbehavior – out of bounds for at least the next thirty-nine days which is election day? What you do that night is your affair and if necessary I will keep Gavin away from you to allow you to play without restraint."

"My question was hypothetical. A light white wine?"

"Yes please Linda. I suppose Gavin told you I alleged you were a little over-weight."

"Why do you ask?"

"It would explain at least some of your coolness towards me."

"God, Gavin did say you were unbelievably good. I'll lie and say no he didn't mention anything so personal."

They both laughed and Linda began to warm to the girl when sipping her wine and Rhona said, "It's great to find you have intelligent humor."

At the table, both eating lightly, Rhona asked the big question: "Why Linda?"

"My grandfather founded this company. It is significantly profitable, hence the bank's cornerstone stockholding. The bank of course also looks after us financially, although commercially, and that's a distinct advantage when credit tightens. I'm still young enough to be ambitious. Ever since the family lost the chairmanship we've had a neutral chairman but now that appears about to change should the bank get it's own director as chairman. The bank thinks profits; we think profits but not at the expensive of quality and dedication to service. Customer support is expensive and under bank thinking that equates to profit loss and would think that should be pruned, if not lopped."

"And bang does the company's goodwill and then reputation."

"Exactly. Do you know about business?"

"As well as my law degree I have an MBA."

"Gavin didn't mention the MBA?"

"Obviously Gavin should talk to you more in depth. He probably thought my role with you is more about politics than business."

Linda sighed and said that was about right. "Exactly how did you see your role?"

"My objective is to have you eating out of my hand, supporting me ever inch of the way. Being open and honest with me, delivering me the information I need to know. Also spending the money, perhaps big money, on the investigations we might require."

"Investigations? You mean PI's?"

"Yes. I have my father and a couple of girlfriends firms to provide names of top and reputable PI's I. We won't be successful walking up to our big impediment and saying, 'Alf Raymond, will you kindly withdraw."

Linda laughed. "I also laughed when Gavin told me you had seriously proposed that. There's no way we could topple Alf."

"Well with a negative attitude like that I'd have to say my chances of doing that will take a hit."

"B-but how?"

"We nail an unpalatable indiscretion to Alf's hide."

"Like what?"

Rhona rolled her eyes. "Give me a break Linda. I have just been briefed and have only had time to begin building dossiers on board members and on the chairman and president and the other vice-president of Albion bank. The next step is to get people such as yourself to provide information not available from other sources."

"That will be an uphill task and probably will leave you empty-handed."

"That's an opinion. I'd like to think I'll get up much closer and personal with every person involved Linda. Would you like to tell me about your relationship with Hudson Wright?"

Linda turned scarlet. "Good god, how did you find out?"

"I did it as an exercise to convince you to work openly and honestly with me. You were very careful and covered your tracks well. But the truth is when you went and complained about two unsatisfactory pool men in a succession their boss, Hud as you call him, gave your more than an apology."

"This is disgusting, absolutely disgusting that people can pry like that. How on earth did you find out?"

"As a director you have an expense account. The legal department has access to expense accounts to look randomly for possible fraud. I noticed you had three vouchers for one night stays at a motel across town. Now contrary to what you say I don't think that was very discreet. My registered investigator I hired from the Yellow Pages checked the motel's security camera disks for those days and identified you from the photo I tore from our company's annual report. On each occasion there was this same guy with you. While you paid for everything shared, my man figured your guy might have paid for something. And hello, there was a credit card slip for a bottle of champagne on the third evening."

"Our last time together because his wife was becoming suspicious."

"It was the only slip that turned up details of a local person. My man went to Hud. He denied it until my man asked would Hud mind if he checked with Hud's wife why would Hud be staying at a local motel. Hud coughed up the information once assured disclosure would not end with media publicity."

"Ohmigod."

"Yes, always remember to give false addresses and pay everything with cash whenever you are being naughty Linda." 

"Rhona please," Linda said, awash with guilt.

"When are you expecting me to shift in?"

"Late this afternoon. I thought that was arranged?"

"No. Look Linda. I don't care a rat's ass..."

"What?"

They laughed. "I don't care how badly Gavin communicates with me but with you, I spoke about us being joined at the hip remember?"

"Yes, I should have called you to make contact and then the invitation to move in would have occurred."

"Good girl Linda."

"Girl? I'm forty-six."

"I think we agreed on being open and honest or did you think that didn't apply to you?"

"Fifty," Linda whispered. "Sorry."

"Thank you. I'll arrive about 6:15. I'm living at home at the moment, so am not far from you."

"Dinner will be at 8:00. My son will join us for drinks. He'll be rather interested in you."

"Isn't he a little young for that?"

"I mean my son from my first marriage." 

Linda looked at the surprised face in front of her. "Ah, you know so much about me but I think you missed that one?"

"How embarrassing." Rhona said. "Well I take it we both know I'm not bullet proof."

They laughed and laughed again when Linda said, "And we both have a secret to keep from Gavin."

Linda paid for the meal and they parted, with almost shy waves.

CHAPTER 2

Linda greeted Rhona at the door and they kissed.

"If we are to be joined at the hip we behave like sisters know, forgetting the age gap."

"What a splendid idea."

"Thank you. Put those cases back in your vehicle and we'll drive over to the guesthouse. It's at the back, separated by the pool and garden."




The Chosen One



"Sounds lovely. This is dad's car, borrowed for the night."

"We have a couple of spare vehicles. You may have one of them and I'll organize a space for you in the executive's parking lot."

They drove around the bend behind trees and Rhona said excitedly, "Oh what a dear wee house."

"It's actually larger than it looks. There are two bedrooms with bathrooms upstairs under that high-pitched roof. Please use this house as if it were you own but if you have guests eat with them, otherwise you eat with us."

As they approached the main house a shaggy-haired guy of less than thirty came out dressed in baggy shorts and with a towel around his neck, obviously going for a swim.

He said, "Hi mom," and devoured the visitor with his eyes. "You said a woman was coming to stay. You didn't say a great looker?"

"Well make your own judgment," Linda said. "Rhona Paxton, this is my son Scott Stone.

"Hi Scott, nice to meet you."

"I'm the produce of mom's first marriage. My sister was killed in a car crash when she was three, along with my father. Mom won't have told you that but since you're living with us for a couple of months I want you to know. I changed my surname to Stone because I really like dad."

"Thanks Scott, that's handy to know. I could have put my foot into it. What do you do?"

"I work for the IRS as a field investigator."

"Christ."

"What's wrong? Are you anti-IRS?"

"No more than most tax-paying women I would guess. Could we leave it for the moment: I'll present you with clarification later."

"As you wish. I guess it's something to do with getting mom elected."

"Yes, but please could we leave it for the moment?"

"Yeah, I'll have a swim and join you guys for drinks. Show Rhona my suite mom – I left it tidy in the expectation she'd be arriving tonight."

As they walked into the house Linda said, "I'm sure you can't get Alf Raymond for possible taxation irregularities just on a whim?"

"Not on a whim, no. But an anonymous tip should do it."

"But there's no chance of Scott being on the investigation team."

"My thinking is it doesn't matter who does the investigation. What matters is that he is being investigated and we tip off the bank and suggest he be suspended pending the investigation being completed. We need to find out how to do this without Scot being implicated. Like me, Alf Raymond will find no evidence of you having an adult son if he checks everything about you in company files. We need to talk to Scott about this, perhaps on Sunday. The problem could be it might take weeks for an investigation to be launched."

"Perhaps not on a guy with a very senior position with a bank."

"You might be right. But no way do we proceed with this if it alarms Scott. I'll have to find other ways."

"You mean legal ways, don't you?"

"Yes, of course."

Linda's husband Gavin arrived and kissed both women.

"I did that because we now consider you family."

"That's fine. Perhaps you should tell Linda it's not on your mind to have sex with me?"

"God, you are an upfront and aggressive woman," Gavin said, looking at Linda standing with her mouth open. "Linda, there is nothing between Rhona and me, never has been and never will be."

"T-thank you Gavin," Linda said, swallowing.

"You're too old me for anyway Gavin."

"Cheeky bitch," he laughed. "I'll get changed and be right down. Please organize the drinks Linda."

"God, I can't believe you said that."

"Well it clears the air doesn't it? He won't dare touch me thinking you'll be watching like a hawk."

Linda said carefully, "What do you know about my husband that it's likely I don't know?"

"Nothing, I have absolutely nothing on him," Rhona said. "Further, I have no need to look for anything, even a shred of anything. Gavin is not in the equation."

Linda nodded and looking more cheerful asked Rhona what she'd like to drink. Talking to Linda while waiting for the men to join them Rhona learned the two younger children were away at a coeducational boarding school and would be home in three weeks for a school long weekend break. Mark was twelve and Sarah thirteen.

After dinner Gavin went off to visit his parents and Linda spoke to Scott about Rhona's suggestion.

"If I was found to have involvement I could be in serious trouble. Rhona, the answer is no, don't do it. A maliciously false complaint, if investigated, could lead to the ruination of this guy's career with the bank."

"Oh of course. I hadn't thought it through," said Rhona. "That would be grossly unfair unless our complaint was well-founded."

"Correct, and you can bet that most senior executives at banks these days are squeaky clean. Rhona, do you date?"

"Yes."

"I have nothing planned for tomorrow night. Would you go to a movie and then go to a club and then out late for dinner?"

"Yes, that sounds lovely thank you."

"Right, I'll leave you ladies. I'm off to the gym."

As Linda and Rhona finished the dishes, Rhona said, "What if Scott takes me to the door tomorrow night and then wants to come in?"

Linda smiled and stroked Rhona's cheek. "I'd like that to happen. He doesn't have a steady date at the moment."

* * * 

Just after 6:00 next morning Rhona was reading and answered a door knock. It was Scott, dressed for running. "I'm going for a light run; want to join me?"

"No, er yes – yes I do run."

"I thought you might. You have five minutes. I'll be on the exercise bike under the cookout canopy beside the pool.

She found him and off they went.

"I worried about you last night."

"Oh?" she said. "Did you think I couldn't sleep in a house alone?"

"No, not that. What you said about filing an anonymous complaint about mom's opponent for the chairmanship. If a malicious tip-off was somehow traced back to you, it's probable you'd have your license to practice law revoked."

"That's true. But if I did it this next week, and very anonymously, no one would connect it to your mom and me as her assistant to an election two months away."

"Perhaps not but who knows? It would be taking an unnecessary risk. Left here goes down to the river and right for some hill work."

"Right please. I'd like a good workout."

"Would you like a good work out tonight with me?"

"What – dancing?"

He grinned. "You're all right."

Rhona smiled. "Would you like to stay with me tonight."

"Yes."

"Right, that's done. It was what I want. Can you do a check on Alf Raymond for me?"

"I'll think about it. I don't have authorization and anyone going into anyone's file leaves a fingerprint."

"Do you have a pal whose job it is to make random checks on files on someone like Alf Raymond?"

"I'll think about it. There is this woman..."

"Did you leave her on good terms?"

"Yes, she has no reason to be vindictive and is now married, happily I understand. She's like you – a bit reckless. She might do it."

"Well if you do approach her, don't do it at your office and don't let her tell you anything except by whispering to you on a busy sidewalk at an intersection with noisy traffic."

"You make it sound like cops on surveillance."

"Well who knows? At law school we were taught about surveillance methods. In your work you probably are scanned and monitored from time to time and your laptop and cell phone could be bugged."

"Yeah, it has been suggested but who knows? I don't work in high security areas. Just involved with files of ordinary citizens like you, mom and Mr Alf Raymond. Let's stop, you look a little stressed."

"No, just slow the pace until I get my second wind. I have been neglecting my body lately."

"Well I aim to remedy that."

Rhona laughed. "My fitness you fool."

They ran in to her house. "Want to come up for a shower?"

Scott looked at her intently. "You mean afterwards?"

"Before and afterwards if you wish."

In the shower Scott groped a body that made his eyes water, although that could have been shower water. It was so smooth and firm that it made him hard. As for Rhona, she found something to hold on to keep her balance.

They lurched out on to the bathroom tiles, locked in a deep kiss, and sank to the floor, almost unaware that the tiles were hard and cold. Rhona felt her pussy was on fire and she didn't want any more messing about.

"Put it in."

He groaned, "Can't do that. Women go mad if they go short on foreplay."

"Shut up and do it. If you don't I'll scream and that will end up you father rushing over to save me and he'll do the job you have stalled on."

"God you are such a irresponsible person to be an attorney," he moaned. "How do you want it?"

"In my you fool."

Rhona was suddenly engulfed in the tenderness permeated with the flickering passion she'd long dreamed about. His hands were applying her body with long strokes instead of diving for her cunt. She loved it and those soft kisses he was lavishing her face and breasts almost sent her into a wave of sexual convulsions to saturate the floor under her thighs and ass.

God he was good.

She opened wide as the head of his cock nudged her vulva. She lifted her knees and that opened her and the cockhead slid in and she purred like a cat.

"Tell me if I'm hurting you," he whispered anxiously.

Rhona answered by gripping the rolls right under the bottom of his ass cheeks and slammed him against her groin, taking his cock all the way. She grunted triumphantly and hissed, "Fuck me."

They were in missionary, but not the missionary Rhona was familiar with. He went at it in smooth, long strokes, mixing little puffs of breath on to her nipples with whispered sweet nothings as he moved in to nibble an ear. Rhona was soon floating on a roller coaster of emotions that hurled her into release. That slap, slap of their bodies anointed with extra fluid leaking past his plunging cock elevated their both to new heights and as he told her she was so beautiful and her was so honored to be invited to possess her that Rhona came again, confident she come again with a big one for the ultimate climax... and so it came to be.

They lay, not moving, almost exhausted, until she stoked the side of his face and whispered, "God, I don't think I've ever been so beautifully fucked."

She then felt him thicken inside her and they both groaned, knowing it was on again.

They went out nude and dove into the pool, swimming very slow lengths and they their energy levels returning. They waved at Linda and Gavin standing behind the glass doors in their dressing gowns drinking coffee. Linda opened a window and called, "Come in soon for breakfast" and then she and Gavin disappeared.

* * *

Late afternoon after the Sunday luncheon, as they sat around the mess before clearing it away, Linda yawned and said, "Well, I believe that was a complete success. No bitching, no-one getting drunk enough to make fools of themselves and they all seem to like you darling."

"Everyone was pleasant to me," Rhona said. "I got nowhere in terms of the mission of course but at least they all know me and will know what it's about when I approach them. I must say the only person who appeared to have reservations about me was Alf Raymond, but then again he knew he was in hostile territory. "The head of public affairs in his bank, Shona Cross, arrive back this morning and called me an hour ago. We are having lunch on Monday. I didn't wish to finalize my campaign strategy until I'd spoken to her at length. So with luck I should be on the road on Tuesday."

"Remember everything must be above the board otherwise it could bounce back and skittle Linda, doing exactly what we want you to do to Alf Raymond," Gavin said.

"Yes, I understand. I've decided tactically I should hit Alf early. I was going to leave him till last but if we can place him on shaky ground the undeclared voters would swing our way because they'll want to go with a winner."

"Good thinking," Gavin said. "Business politics is not my forte but I think rationally and I like the sound of that strategic thinking."

"Yes, it's the way to go," Scott said.

"Oh darling, you're taking an interest in mommy's political future. That's lovely. I agree with that strategy."

"Four of the directors asked if I was Scott's girl-friend. I answered evasively."

"Are you?" Linda asked, staring at Rhona.

"A girl-friend, yes. Scott and I haven't spoken about developing a relationship."

"Yes, we're developing a relationship as you call it," Scott said. "You've gotten me into a bit of a buzz."

"Be careful Scott," Rhona laughed. "Sex can come back to bite you."

"The buzz began from the first moment I saw you," Scott smiled and Rhona fluttered her eyelashes at him.

"Well I think that's so lovely," Linda yawned, standing and stretching. "Let's move off so the caterers can really dig in and clear their mess instead of politely walking around on tip-toes."

Later Scott took Linda to a movie and as they were nearing home later in the evening she invited him to move in with her and the offer was warmly accepted.

* * *

The head of Albion United Bank's public affairs department, Shona Cross, entered the restaurant and immediately waved to Rhona who'd said she'd be wearing a bright red dress. The older woman said as they shook hands, "You promised this would be a significant meeting and should not be farmed out to an underling."

"Yes," Rhona said, smiling her best, "The CEO of Stone Frontline Support Corporation has requested me to consult with you confidentially. But first, a drink?

"Coffee please."

"Good choice," Rhona smiled, ordering two coffees and the menu. "This concerns a top executive in your bank. Mr Alf Raymond. Do I have your agreement we talk about this in confidence until either one of us decides to end confidential discussion?"

"Yes. You are an attorney I noted when I looked you up on the Internet. I am obliged to agree aren't I otherwise I won't learn what this is about?"

Rhona smiled. "We could discuss the weather."

"Shoot Rhona."

"Our CEO understands Alf, one of your two representatives on our board, is aiming to replace our retiring chairman in just a little under two months' time. Our chairman would prefer his ambitious wife to gain that post. She is more than well qualified."

"And you people belief Alf is not?"

"Oh not at all. His credentials are impressive and my understanding is his contribution as a board member has been exemplary. The situation is Stone is a family company that was founded in 1922 and for all but the last eight years has had a family member as chairman. The desire is to have that link reinstated."

"I would think during the time the company had an independent chairman the company has gone from strength to strength?"

"In a manner of speaking. The strength has come from gaining your bank as a cornerstone stockholder and the benefits radiating from there."

"I'm pleased that is recognized but yet your internal hierarchy doesn't want one of my bank's representatives to be possibly elected as chairman?"

"Correct."

"Well I believe that ends this confidential discussion."

"Just a moment Shona. This is purely about company pride and company tradition."

"Tradition? That explains why the company has such a funny name."

"With respect Shona may I suggest it would not have been a funny name way back in 1922. And you of all people being an expert in public affairs would be horrified at a suggestion a company change its name when it exports its military field kitchens and surgical theatres to fourteen countries and has done so to ten of those countries since the late 1920s and they know Stone field kitchens and mobile surgical theatres are the best money can buy."

Shona nodded and said she'd concede that point.

"Our chairman has significant influence on policy affecting company spending and everything dealing with company reputation. We believe that power should be in the hands of family. We were fortunate that the current chairman, although an esteemed attorney, has proven to be a political weak chairman, which has been to our advantage. It has been easy perceived that Alf Raymond will be a politically strong chairman and his focus will be on rewarding stockholders and there is the crux of the problem."

"I see, indeed I see clearly. So if the bank were to place pressure on Alf not to go for the chair or to replace him with another representative, how would the bank be rewarded?"

"I guess saying security of the proven way of success for the corporation is not enough?"

"Very astute Rhona."

Rhona thought for a moment. "Right, how about this: Your president meets with our CEO, alone, and your president says he'll pull Alf from our board in return for the bank gaining an extra seat on the board, with our corporation increasing the number of board members by one."

"We'd probably prefer just a simple swap and the board remaining as thirteen members."

"Well there it is. I have no idea if our side would agree to an extra representative from the bank but in just thinking that up I was struck by the thought that it has to give something to get what it wants. Well that's me done."

"Right Rhona. We are out of confidentiality. What is your request?"

"Mrs Cross. My corporation is rather concerned that your man might defeat our CEO's wife for the chairmanship of our corporation when the election occurs in just over two months. My CEO would like to meet privately with your president to discuss this. A possible solution is for the bank to switch Mr Alf Raymond to another board. Of course the bank could want something in return. Might I suggest a third seat on the board?"

Shona said, "You were not authorized to make that suggestion."

"No, of course not. But I am the chosen one to fit this dilemma so I'm working within my mandate. People without a strong legal background are largely unaware of the inherent risks of giving wide open mandates so how can I be blamed for using my initiative with a wide open mandate?"

"God you are priceless. You should be working for us."

"Thank you Shona. That is very gracious of you. Are you ready to order?"

Rhona went shopping and found a hairdresser who could cut her hair late afternoon. She timed her arrival home in the Jeep Wrangler the family had loaned after the usual time Gavin arrived home. She found a note from Scott saying he'd gone to the gym but would be home for dinner and then went over to the house.

Linda kissed her warmly and asked, "How did you get on with the lady from the bank?"

"I need to tell you both."

"Gavin, get your ass out here and bring drinks," Linda shouted. "Rhona is ready to report."

Gavin smiled and kissed Rhona and it was happy families until Rhona reached the critical point in her report. Gavin hit the roof.

"What, you suggested a trade with the bank ending up with one more seat!"

"Yes, I just said that. Please hold your temper, it was only a suggestion."

"A fucking suggestion, a fucking suggestion! The bank will take that as gospel. And who the hell gave you authority to offer that?"

"It wasn't an offer. It was a suggestion – a suggestion for arming negotiations. Give me a break Gavin. You want a big job done. I'm not allowed to have Alf Raymond assassinated or his reputation severely besmirched. That's practically hogtied me. And when I come up with a strategic breakthrough you throw a wobbly."

"Now look here young woman, I... "

Linda interrupted. "Shut up Gavin unless you have a better plan of action."

Gavin appeared ready to spit the dummy.

Rhona said, "Listen to your wife Gavin. She's talking sense."

Just at that moment, as if called on stage, Scott walked in, wet from the pool, towel wrapped around him and he said, "Christ dad, what's up? Half the neighborhood can hear you shouting."

"Bullshit!"

"Smack him one Scott."

Father and son looked at Linda, astonished.




The Chosen One



Rhona who'd decided not to defend herself by saying she'd been left with an open mandate to act, because that would only lead to a halter being placed on her, cooed, "Oh it's lovely and peaceful in here."

The family now stared at her and she smiled back.

"I'll grab some clothes and join you," Scott said, kissing Rhona. "You must have worked effectively today to have dad so riled."

He left in stony silence until Rhona said, "Sit down Gavin and keep calm. You have options. You can refuse the bank an extra seat. Alternatively we can risk going to a contested election with me trying to win majority support for Linda as planned. Whatever you do there is no way the bank will bail out of the corporation because I've examined its investments and the corporation is a cornerstone investment for the bank."

"That's true, I know that," Gavin said.

"You could have the board to vote to change the constitution to allow one more director to offset an extra director for the bank."

"I'm already thinking that."

"And have a resolution passed that the chairman can only be a family member or a family-approved nominee."

"Are you sure we could do that?"

"I'm not a specialist in company law but my understanding is you may do that, being a private company."

Gavin nodded and said well that's something.

Scott sauntered in carrying a beer. "Oh, all calmed down are we? Well this ought to produce big smiles. Today I found a list published for internal distribution two months ago and available for perusal to anyone having access to our secured internal network, so that's a big number of people. I did a search of the name of business addresses using Albion United Bank and came up with three names, Alf Raymond, the bank's other senior vice-president and its director of finance. All three are in the list of top-bracket taxpayers suspected of defrauding the IRS through involvement in a questionable tax shelter."

"Ohmigod," Linda gasped.

Gavin jumped in, "Can you get us a copy of that report?"

"No way without facing punishment," Scott said.

"Excuse me," called Rhona, loping to the door. "I think I can hear my phone ringing."

"How the hell can she hear her phone ringing from here?" Gavin asked.

"Young ears," Scott laughed.

Rhona grabbed her phone and called Shona Cross. "Come on, come on," she muttered.

"Shona Cross."

"Hi it's Rhona. I've just come from a downtown bar and I heard an amazing whisper. Have you told your president anything about our conversation?"

"Not yet. He was in meetings all day. I'll grab him in the morning."

"Could you cancel what you intended to tell him about our discussion. What I'm about to tell you could shock your president. Do I have your assurance that you keep me and the corporation out of this tip off?"

"Yes, absolutely. What is it?"

"The woman was talking in a low voice to people just behind me that three top executives in your bank are being investigated for possible involvement in a questionable tax shelter."

"Investigated by the IRS?"

"I don't know. All she said was the two vice-presidents and director of finance of Albion United Bank."

"Jesus."

"I'm sorry I didn't hear anything more and remember she did say possible involvement. So it's nothing more than a rumor. Normally I wouldn't have taken any notice but as you'll understand this plays right into my hands. The release of this information in the public arena is like dynamite so be very careful. I suggest you have senior legal counsel present when you pass on this rumor to your president. My thinking is the guys will know they are being investigated and their personal tax accountants would have advised them if the department was making a special audit. The bank's attorneys will probably say the president should question the three, one at the time, and in their presence. Remember this is nothing more that a rumor."

"You keep saying it's a rumor but it must be investigated. Rhona please understand but under the circumstances I must ask, are you making this up."

"No Shona. I heard the allegations being made. Listen, it will be easy to find out if those executives are involved in a tax shelter and alarm bells will ring if your people find out it's the same tax shelter. Some tax shelter's are legal of course."

"God, how am I going to sleep with this on my mind?"

"Alcohol?"

Shona laughed. "Gary and I have almost finished our bottle before dinner. I shall open another."

Shona called Rhona next morning just after 10:00 and arranged to meet Rhona on the street outside her bank in half an hour.

"Your information is correct. The bank has suspended its two vice-presidents after they admitting they were in a tax shelter of now questionable legality and are under investigation by the IRS. They collaborated the claim by the director of finance that he had been consulted for his opinion on whether or not the shelter was legal, and that's all."

"Oh thanks for that Shona. Do you want to go for coffee?"

"No, there is an emergency board meeting underway. I must stay on deck."

"Well thanks," Rhona said, kissing the older woman. I would have been embarrassed had had that rumor proved unfounded."

She began walking away.

"Wait Rhona, don't you want me to try to swing the axe for you?"

"Shona darling. You are a professional. Who am I to attempt to tell you what to do?"

"God Rhona, you are cooler than cool. Um, we have a position coming up to fill as chair of our Distributions Board. It meets quarterly and annually dishes out up to $2 million to worthy community causes. The chair must be female and preferably a professional."

"Yes, why not? Put my name into the ring and have me investigated. I have banked with your bank since I was four years old and my permanent address is C/- of my parents in Moore St at The Grove. Bye. You look lovely in that shade of blue."

When the family was having drinks that evening Rhona said, "Now I have you all gathered, some great news. I tipped off my person at the bank and she told me today the two vice-presidents have been suspended after admitting they were aware they were under IRS investigation. The director of finance remains unscathed because he was only involved to the extent of giving advice whether the tax shelter was legal. He answered he was unable to determine it's legality because of the lack of sufficient information but it would appear borderline at best."

"The stupid fools," Gavin snorted.

The next point Gavin I want you to keep calm.

"Oh Christ. All right."

Shona, the bank's manager of public affairs, asked did I have any request to make of her in the light of the suspensions. I said no."

Gavin's glass shook in his hand and his still quite handsome face turned dark.

"I said no but in effect I really said yes because I said she was a professional so who was I to tell her what to do."

"Oh no. Rhona you were my chosen one and you fall at the last jump. You goofed on a magnificent opportunity to have Alf replaced on our board."

"No I didn't."

"Darling, I agree with Rhona. In a manner in which men would find difficult to understand she confirmed to Shona what had to be done, that Shona had to act professionally and ensure that those two executives had all ties to the public including companies severed to limit fallout if the IRS takes them to court."

"Is that correct Rhona?"

"All I can say in Shona's position that's how I'd interpreted what had been said and I would be pleased I hadn't been told how to do my job as a principle adviser to my bank's president."

"Yes, I can see that now," Scott said. "It's alarmingly subtle and so it could miss the mark unless the woman is intelligent and..."

"She is Scott." 

"Well there you are dad, game over."

"I admit is sounds promising. I'll reserve my response."

Next morning when Rhona brought coffee to the side of the pool, where she and Linda were reading the morning newspaper, she said, "Well I best return to my old job in the morning."

"Are you that confident it's all over?"

"Yes."

"In that case I want you to have two more weeks on your inflated pay and regard it as a well-earned vacation."

"But I haven't done much."

"Oh yeah?"

"Linda, I want to ask you something. Why is Scott working for the IRS instead of working within the corporation? He has the qualifications to go all the way to director of financial services."

"Because he and his father fight too much. You appear to have a calming influence on them. I think they can imagine how cutting you'd be if you really vented fire. You know of course most men are a little fearful of women."

"No?"

"I mean of real women."

"Oh."

Linda asked, "Are you going to have a long relationship with Scott?"

"Yes. I wondered if that was what this is about."

"Marriage?"

"I would think so."

"Oh darling, come over and let me hug you. This makes me so happy. Neither of them know do they?"

"No."

"They'll learn in all good time?"

"Yes."

Rhona was back in her chair when Linda's phone went. "Oh hi Gavin," Linda said, turning the phone on to speaker. 

"I've just had the president of the bank visit me. He handed me Alf's resignation from our board and explained the circumstances. Tactically I had to pretend I knew nothing about this. I expressed condolences and he said this was all due to great work by his head of public affairs having great contacts and her keeping an ear on the ground. He said the suspension of the two vice-presidents would continue until the bank's attorneys could find out just how serious the allegations were. If there were risks of the bank being contaminated the president had been given authority by the board to fire them whatever the legal repercussions would be. We then talked about the need for transparency, the value of reputation and client service. He said we sounded if we were in the same business and graduates of the same college. We laughed and then he said, "Well I guess that's why we invested in your corporation because we recognize we share its core values. I said good god, I though it was all about the chunk of our profits the bank took as our major stockholder and he laughed and laughed. We are invited to dinner at his home this Saturday."

"Oh, so you have a new friend. Congratulations."

"Thanks. I want to talk to our most valued employee. Her public affairs buddy is the bank's replacement for Alf on our board."

"Just a minute darling, she is sitting right by me."

The phone was handed over.

"Gavin, I'm not talking to you again until I learn that you have offered Scott a top position in the finance division of your corporation."

"What? What the hell is this? Rhona, speak to me!"

Rhona handed the phone to Linda.

"Rhona is taking a stance I ought to have taken five years ago. I'm not talking to you again until I learn that you have offered Scott a top position in the finance division of our corporation."

Linda and Rhona listened to Gavin's bleating until he cut his call, and then no longer smothered their giggling.

Minutes later Rhona took a call from Shona with her news. She invited Rhona to her home for dinner that evening."

"Darling, could you possibly make that tomorrow evening? We are going out tonight on a celebratory dinner of our own."

"Yes of course. Please bring Scott."

"You know about him?"

"I'm having you investigated darling. I figure I'll soon be appointed a vice-president and someone will be head-hunted to fill the other vacancy. I want you to take over as manager of public affairs. I have a law degree – it's one of the requirements for the job. I suggest you spend the next month cramming knowledge about banking. My father works in the IRS in a senior position and a little birdie told me things are not looking good for a couple of bank executives."

"Oooh. So there is a chance?"

"Yes, I came up through the banking system and have only two internal competitors. Both are mice while I'm a cat and the president knows that. Incidentally his PA has just handed me a voucher for a 10-day luxury stay in Hawaii. Oh to be so lucky. I'll work my ass off getting you in here as my replacement if that's what you want darling."

"Yes, definitely yes. Bye"

Linda asked are you suggesting I take you all out on a celebratory dinner tonight?"

"No, Scott will. He'll receive a job offer later today he cannot refuse."

"Darling, I don't think you realize just how stubborn Gavin can be."

"Poof. We have him over a barrel and he knows it."

"Well, you might be right. Also no talkies means no sex and men find that hard to live with," Linda giggled. "Now tell me was your call was about. It sounded intriguing."

Linda and Rhona were having a cold turkey lunch when Scott called Rhona. They exchanged pleasantries and then he asked to speak to his mother.

"Hi mom. Dad's asked me to meet him in his office at 5:00 and said it was urgent. He wouldn't say what it was about. Do you know anything?"

"No love, he hasn't said anything to me. Just remember if he wants something from you he'll try to beat you down."

"What does that mean."

"It means negotiate hard. Bye."

Linda smiled at Rhona. "Book the restaurant darling. Scott meets Gavin at 5:00 today. Make it late. Gavin will come home stressed and having sex is the best way to relieve him of that. Aren't I a lucky girl?"

"Scott and I will go for a run so we don't hear your passionate screams."

They giggled.

"Oh you're going to be so good for this family," Linda declared. "I look forward to the day when you're one of the bank's representative on my board."

THE END



The Chosen One



I am selected and taken from the harem to the sultan's chamber. I not only want to please all of his senses I dream of being worthy of being chosen as his favorite. I am nude and wrapped in a silk veil to be presented to the sultan. I bow at his feet in greeting and then dance for him, slowly revealing my bare skin and letting my undulating movements show him how ready my body is for his pleasure. When I feel I have aroused his eyes I will draw close and caress him while kissing his neck and sensuously whispering erotic poetry. The warmth of my body heightens the fragrance of my perfumed hair, the body oil on my skin and the scent my arousal. I thrill and my heart races at this close contact with him. Seeing his arousal I fall to my knees to fellate him, taking him adoringly into my mouth and throat. I hear his moans of pleasure but only when he begins to caress my hair do I dare raise my eyes to see the desire smoldering in his glance...

The sultan picks me up and carries me to the huge bed covered in richly embroidered silk. He is poised above me and pushes my legs apart with absolute authority. His hand gently brushes aside the jewels dangling from my pierced hood to reveal the juicy red treasure beneath. He smiles—we both know I am his for the taking but he is pleased to see that I am so wet with anticipation. He tastes of my sweetness while I tremble with joy -- this honor is known to be given to few in the harem. Suddenly he grasps the flesh on my thighs,

pushing them to my chest and I gasp as he enters me with a single deep powerful stroke. He pauses for a moment, looking into my eyes...savoring his conquest, his unquestioned ownership. He starts to thrust inside me, riding his prize hard, eyes closed, gripped and quenched in my heat. He slows down and withdraws from me. Tears sting my eyes and my heart begins to break thinking I have failed him, clearly he is not yet satisfied...

He strokes my breasts enjoying how my erect nipples are presented to him by my jeweled nipple rings. He takes my nipples one at a time between his teeth, gently biting and pulling. He tells me he has a special gift for me and reaches under a nearby cushion. He cradles two perfect pearls in his hand, the largest I have ever seen. Once again he pushes my legs apart and I feel the cool pearls slip into the warmth of my canal. With a devilish grin he plunges his thick cock into me again and I feel the pearls rolling against my walls with every thrust. The added sensation of the pearls increases his excitement and I feel the full weight of his body with every commanding stroke. He reaches his climax with a roar and I join him, waves of pleasure cresting in my body as his gift courses into me.

Leaving the pearls inside me, he withdraws and commands me to turn over. I am on my belly, shaking from his possession thus far and now frozen with fear. Every girl in the harem knows that the sultan is never truly satisfied until he has claimed every orifice in his property. I feel sharp stinging blows on my ass as he impatiently pulls my hips up to him and pushes my knees apart. I am ashamed that I was not quicker in positioning myself for his pleasure as I have been trained in the harem to do. The sting from the slaps turns to soothing strokes and I feel him part my backside with unexpected gentleness. His shaft is still throbbing, rock hard and glistening from my juice. I shriek as his first thrust opens the way past the last barrier to ownership. He thrusts again and again and finally his length is fully buried in me. My cheeks are wet with tears of pain and pleasure. Just when I think I cannot take more I hear him moan and I am gifted a second time. Now my tears are coming faster, pure pleasure.

He turns me over and holds me close. He tells me that I am his special favorite. I will stay with him in his chamber for the night and for many nights to come.....his perfect plaything and passion possession.



The Chosen One



Now, when I look back upon my time with him, I cannot help but touch myself. Here, between these damp, pulsing lips which used to part so obligingly for him. My fingers do not move roughly in the way that he would manhandle me in the frenzy of our fucking, but deftly, in long, languid strokes, as he might caress me afterwards. It was then, when the storm of need had been quelled for a short while, that he would tell me I was beautiful (which I am not), his princess and, of course, his chosen one.

You see, there were two sides to him, as there were to me. Opposites. Poles of a magnet, drawing me to him inexorably. A moth to a flame. Choose your own metaphor. But this was how it was during that time when he held me hostage to desire and freed me from the slavery of choice.

I do not know how I was chosen or why. But I do realize, with hindsight, that during those preceding months, as late Spring mellowed into early Summer, he was marking me out from all those other sad women who were waiting for a man such as him to enter their lives. Was I so pathetic? I wouldn't have said so. Not then. But, with the benefit of hindsight, I suppose that I was waiting too. Just biding my time until he would come for me and, by seizing me, release me from the mere existence that my life had become.

By then I had been living in Robert's flat for almost a year. He was, I suppose, my first serious boyfriend. There had been other lovers but no more than might be thought normal for a healthy and reasonably attractive 23 year old woman. To the outside world, I guess, we were a picture of contentment. We had friends, jobs, money -- as much as many couples would ever want. But there was something missing. A void. Yes, a deepening emptiness where my sex life should have been. For although Robert had always been a thoughtful, diligent lover, he was too careful and too caring to satisfy me. In short, I had come to feel that the lovemaking we shared was not my own. It was as if I had borrowed another woman's clothes and become trapped in them. What did I want instead? At that time I had no idea. But there was someone who did.

During the last three months of our life together Robert's interest in sex had waned and I might as well have been a widow. If we had made love a dozen times during those long, cold months, it was certainly no more than that, and always at my initiative. And as a cactus will flourish in a desert, so fantasies grew and prospered in the wilderness that was my love life. I would find myself at work becoming aroused by day-dreams in which the most unlikely men would force me to commit unspeakable acts. And, in those reveries, I felt more turned on than I had ever been by Robert or any earlier lover. 

So this how things were before he rescued me from that life.

It was lunchtime one Saturday in late May. Hardly a common event because Robert and I had just enjoyed morning sex: sleepy, waking-up sex that began with drowsy caresses and soon became a hurried, frantic coupling, and -- rarer still -- he had managed to bring me to an orgasm that, though somewhat perfunctory, had renewed all those tender feelings I once harboured for him.

Without showering and barely brushing my hair, I pulled on a summer dress -- no bra, nor panties -- and we stumbled out into the sunshine and along to the coffee house around the corner from his flat. We cuddled up on the settee and devoured steaming cups of scolding cappuccino with almond croissants. It was as though we had just met and were in the first heady weeks of mutual discovery. Except that Robert then announced that he had to leave to meet his friends in a local pub for some televised football match.

So there I sat, deserted. Absent mindedly I was spoon-feeding myself cold, milky froth when a man walked into the coffee house. At first I didn't really notice him but his presence seemed to charge the atmosphere with an alien energy. I looked up and he was standing before me, still and silent but demanding my attention. He was vaguely familiar: a man I might have passed in the street, or queued beside him in a shop. Tallish, maybe forty or so, he was wearing a grey linen suit, a deep blue open-necked shirt and expensive-looking shoes. His hair was steel grey. He wasn't handsome, in fact he was almost ugly, but nevertheless attractive. To me, at least.

All that happened thereafter now seems pre-ordained, as if I had conjured this stranger from my fantasies. Perhaps I had. It is certainly true that as events unfolded I could almost sense their happening before they occurred, as if I was acting out a role in a play I had already rehearsed. 

The mystery man addressed me unsmilingly. 'Come on,' he said. His voice was quiet, but brooked no dissent. 'Let's go.' 

He held out his hand, beckoning me.

I didn't ask who he was or where we were going. It simply didn't occur to me to do so. I merely rose from the settee, moved as if by a force of nature. The waitress looked intrigued by this little drama and watched to see what happened. I shrugged resignedly, like a doctor on call, summoned to an emergency. I didn't feel pity or regret, merely reluctant obedience. 

The man opened the door and I followed. Outside the weather had turned and we felt the first spits of a shower falling from dark, thunderous clouds. The air was suffocatingly thick. He hardly noticed but, seizing me by the wrist, marched me down the road. I had to half-run, half-shuffle to keep pace, like a naughty little girl being dragged home by a strict parent. Puzzled shoppers, huddling in doorways, watched as we passed by but, as I caught their eyes, each looked away shamefacedly, pretending not to notice us.

What was I feeling? Fear certainly, and bewilderment, but excitement too. A sexual thrill I had never known before, not even in my fantasies. My senses .... Because this was real. There would be no waking up, no stopping at that crucial moment. This man, I knew, would take me all the way to those places I had yearned for and dreaded.

A hundred yards down the road, we turned into Buckingham Street and left the hustle and bustle of the shops behind. By now the rain was falling heavily, drenching us with a tropical force. We gathered pace so that I could barely keep up. Two more turns and we entered a mews that I had never noticed. A few entrances along, he stopped and unlocked a blue door in a sadly neglected tenement. As he did so, soaked and breathless, I leant against the wall and studied him. His face was tanned in a weather-beaten way and clean-shaven, his nose was slightly bent. He was muscular but not burly. About him there was an air of proprietoral confidence. 

Once the door was open, he pulled me up a flight of rickety, uncarpeted stairs. I stumbled but he didn't stop for me, merely pulled me to my feet, and strode onwards. At the top of the stairs there was another door. He slotted a key into the lock. Despite all apprehension (or maybe because of it), I could sense myself becoming yet more aroused by his stern aloofness, by the memory of my lovemaking with Robert only an hour or so before, and by my utter helplessness. I heard myself panting and smelled the pungent stink of sex, sweat and rain rising steamily from my pores.

Beyond the door was a small flat. From the hallway I could see into a bedroom and sitting room. Each was only scantily furnished. My mystery man still didn't speak but stooped to pick up some mail and, climbing to his feet, steadied himself by gripping the back of my bare thigh. He pulled against me and his fingers dug into my skin. As he rose, his hand felt its way up under my dress, over my hip to my belly. For a moment I stood passively as his fingers explored between my legs which parted meekly for him. My breath was catching in my throat but nevertheless I gave out a little yelp. He removed his hand and stroked my face with his damp fingers. 

My heart was in my mouth as he motioned me into the bedroom. The room was dominated by a wide cast-iron bed. Otherwise, there were only a couple of old chairs, bedside tables and a large rug hanging on the whitewashed wall. The wooden floor had been stripped and was carpetless. I doubted that he lived there. Perhaps, I thought, he just kept the flat for bringing women like me. 'What do you want?' I said, although I was already certain of the answer.

'You, of course,' is all he replied.

'Why?' I asked, the word dying on my lips even as I uttered it.

'Because I can see what he can't see, what even you haven't seen until now.' His eyes were dark and coldly insistent.

He pulled me to him and kissed me roughly. He tasted of tobacco, money and desire. I suppose that I could have offered resistance, but I didn't want to and anyway I had forfeited that privilege when I left the coffee house. 

When we broke off our embrace, he said, 'You can go if you want.' But I didn't move. Then we kissed again. His tongue was in my mouth, swiping across my teeth, and his hand was in my lank hair, tugging my head back. I wound my leg around his thigh and he grabbed it with his hand and lifted it to his hip.

'You smell of his sweat,' he said.

'I'm sorry,' I mumbled.

'Don't be. I like it.' He smiled for the first time. His teeth were white and not quite even. I remember wanting to feel them bite into me.

He put me down and, in one movement, dragged my sodden frock up to my breasts. I raised my arms and with a loud, ripping noise he hauled it over my head so that it seemed to flutter, like a tattered flag, before it fell at my feet. Now I was utterly naked. Instinctively my hands covered my breasts. Yet I didn't feel embarrassed or ashamed, only frightened, but ecstatically so, as if I was teetering at the edge of a precipice, about to leap into the warm, welcoming sea. He peeled away my hands and squeezed my small breasts, like a buyer checking fruit for its ripeness. My pinkened nipples were hard to his touch. He seemed to like what he saw. He gestured to the bed. Obediently I clambered onto it, lay on my side and waited for him. With brisk and precise efficiency, he removed and folded his jacket, kicked off his shoes and started to unzip his trousers. His cock sprang from his pants. It was long, slim and hairless. 

'You like sucking cock, don't you?' he said, barely regarding me. I said nothing but I wanted to take him in my mouth and please him more than any woman had ever done before.

'Come here,' he commanded, now as naked as I. His body was lean, bronzed and hairless too. 'On your knees. Show me what a good, little cocksucker you are.' He gestured me to him.

I crept off the bed and, on my haunches, crouched before him. With one hand, he drew my chin to him and, with the other, held his eagerly stiff cock against my face, rubbing it against my cheeks and then along my nose. The smell of him was intoxicating. A trail of his juice stained my skin. I wanted to tell him how big and hard he was but I was afraid to speak. Instead, eager to please him, I peeled his hand away and stroked his shaft delicately between the fingers of one hand.

His gaze now was unwavering. 'On the pill?'

I nodded. My hand moved up and down his cock with lubricious ease.

'Good,' he said. 

With my other hand I cradled his balls, kneading and moulding them lovingly. I ran the back of my fingers along the slim, elegant shaft. His cock shivered at my touch and he leaned on my shoulders for balance.

When my fingers reached the glossy tip, turning them over, I held him in my palm and felt his blood pulsing in my grip. My other hand was still cupping his balls, as round and pink as peaches. I drew down the foreskin and slide my hand slowly up and down. The skin was drawn as tightly as unfurled silk, the head a purplish crimson. I pumped his cock a little more vigorously. Then I released my hold. His face scowled and I thought for a moment that he was going to strike me. But he only smiled grimly like a child grieving for a lost toy. My fingers were dripping with his juices; the silvery threads glistened in the sunlight. I watched his woeful face. He too was watching me through glazed, hooded eyes. Slowly I licked each finger, savouring the salty syrup. Then I sucked my thumb, fellating it lovingly until the last vestiges had seasoned my tongue.

A stray lock of auburn hair flopped across my face. He tucked it behind my ear. Then he drew my head to his crotch.

I rubbed my cheek along his shaft and basked in the glow that warmed my skin. 

Soft, slow kisses caressed his cock as tenderly as a butterfly's wings. It stood as straight and hard as a ramrod. His breath now was short and came out in little moans. How could a touch so delicate cause him such pain?

With each kiss my lips climbed his long, arcing rod until they scaled its peak. I slid my tongue over its all-seeing eye. He was groaning, thrusting forwards, trying to press his cock into me. I pulled away teasingly. Then I begin to lick him. With long, languid strokes, I ran my tongue along the length of his cock from base to tip.

I took him again in my hand and, cushioning the fiery dome between my lips, sucked on it hard. His juice was on my lips, my teeth and tongue.

'Mmm,' I sighed. I raised my head and gazed at his cock, running my fingers up and down its luscious length. Then, with another glance up to my lover's face, my fingers drew down the foreskin and my lips parted and enveloped him once more in their caress. I sucked on the head hard, my tongue flicking and licking at the ridge where his foreskin met his cock's head. Now he was gasping, hardening yet further in my hand and mouth.

I took him deep within me. He filled my mouth. I could feel his tip sliding against the roof, penetrating my gullet. Slowly I raised myself from him, pressing my lips hard against his shaft until he popped out of my mouth.

'How is it?' I asked, all innocence. 'Am I a good little cocksucker?'

His response was immediate. As if angered by my presumptuousness, he pulled me up by the hair and dragged me to the bed. There he lay me down on my side, crouched beside me and drew my mouth onto him. Holding me, he pushed into me, treating my mouth as if it were my pussy, face-fucking me with a bestial intensity. Now his cock was filling and re-filling my mouth with each urgent thrust. At each withdrawal I gasped for breath and then, taking him again into my throat, sucked and spluttered until I was gagging like a drowning swimmer. 

At last he pulled out of me. 'On your knees,' he grunted. I rolled over obediently and he hauled me around so that he was behind me.

I could sense him there, surveying my small, round rump. I wanted him in me so much. I wiggled my ass provocatively and felt him squeeze my buttocks tightly.

'Please,' I half-begged, half-demanded. He slapped my buttock to shut me up. My ass blazed with the searing flash of pain. I let out a little yelp, as I buried my face in the bedclothes.

Pleased by my reaction, he spanked me again harder. The pain scorched my ass and flooded through me.

He gripped me by the hips and pulled me insistently onto his cock. All the way. My tight, wet pussy hugged him in its welcoming embrace. Moaning encouragements filled the air. Ducking my head, I looked back through my legs to watch him pumping into me, hard and fast. I loved what I saw and what I felt: his total ownership and complete domination of my body. No man had ever possessed me so utterly.

'Yeah, yeah,' he muttered with each thrust.

'God ... I love it,' I exclaimed through gritted teeth as his groin thudded against the soft cushion of my butt. He smacked me again and slammed into me once more.

Now oblivious to all but his flesh filling and re-filling me, I moaned: 'Yes .... Yes ....'

My cheek was flat against the mattress, my eyes half-closed, relishing every entering and withdrawal. Reaching forward, he grabbed at my mane of hair and yanked it towards him like a silk rope, forcing me to climb back up onto my elbows, and then my hands. The next time he thrust into me, he tugged on my hair, jerking my neck backwards.

'Ohhhhhh!!' I yelled out. Pain and pleasure mingled in an exotic cocktail of sensations.

God, is this what I had needed? As he pulled out of me, he eased his grip and I lurched forwards. Then, he lunged into me again and pulled harder on my hair. But this time, with his other hand, he slapped my ass too.

'Aaaahh! Fuck!! Fuck!!'

Again, and again, and again. His cock rammed into me. My head jerked like a demented donkey. The bed creaked and cracked with each movement. His groin pounded against my reddening ass. His sweat soaked my back. Obscene cries spilled from my lips.

He let go my hair and my body slumped forwards like a rag doll. On and on we fucked, each of us desperate for an ending. Now he was up onto his feet, crouched at my back, his hands on my waist, so that he could thud into me with renewed momentum. 

I could feel the blessed release of orgasm stirring within me, seizing my limbs, usurping all my senses. Fingers clawed at the bed sheet; limbs, beyond my control, stiffened and stretched; back arched; head, knees and shins dug into the mattress. And still he fucked me relentlessly, endlessly.

'Yes ....!!!!' I moaned at each entry. By now I was prostrate on the bed and he was again kneeling over me, his legs outside my own, driving into me with bestial fervor. And then the sweet mercy of my cumming swept through my veins. 

Slowly, slowly he eased the pace, soothed the rhythm until his cock was barely moving within me. Still I felt the tremors, the afterwaves of my cumming, as they pulsed through legs and arms and gut, setting off little convulsions of pleasure.

'Ye-e-e-e-e-s ........' I mewed in one last sigh as my body relaxed and returned itself to my ownership.

But, of course, my man hadn't come. Not yet. He rose to his feet and, standing on the bed, leaned back against the head board. I crawled over to him.

I took him in my grip. My hand glided along his steepling shaft. 

I stared into his crazed, depraved eyes, and murmured, 'Please cum for me.'

'You know where I want to cum, don't you?' 

'Yes, yes. Bathe my face with your cum. Please.' 

My hand worked him rhythmically but with a growing frenzy. It could not be much longer now. 

I was desperate for him to come -- to expel himself completely so that I had all of him. Up and down my fist massaged his cock. 

'Now .... now ....' he yelled and, relieving me of my duties, took himself in hand.

I bent my face towards his groin, mouth open, eyes closed and smiling, anxious to swallow all of his juice. Still his hand slid up and down. At last, with a shudder, he came, streaking my face and breasts in thick plumes of his juice. I leaned forwards and my tongue caught the last bead of cum that dripped from his cock. Mmm, thick, salted cream. I smiled up at him, seeking his approval, and he seemed pleased with me. He gently wiped my face and offered his fingers to me and I feasted on them hungrily. 

'Let me see,' he said. I opened my mouth and he grinned as he watched me swallow his milk. 

The rest of his juice he rubbed into my breasts and then I licked his palms clean. 

'That was good,' he said eventually. 'Good for you too?'

I didn't want to answer but I did nonetheless. 'Yes,' I said. 'Thank you.'

He lay down beside me, stroking my arm and rubbing his foot against my calf. 'There's coffee in the kitchen. Make us each a cup. Then, afterwards,' he added, as if he was about to offer me a treat, 'I'm going to bugger you senseless.'

As I crawled off the bed, he slapped my bottom playfully.

He did bugger me. Not senseless. In fact, he was quite gentle. I think he must have thought it was my first time, but it wasn't. Not quite. I remember the pain of his entry. The acrid smell of shit that filled my nostrils as his cock, lubricated by spit, moved in and out of me, his hot breath on my neck. He held me by the hips, pulling me onto him. Little grunts -- his and mine -- punctured the silence as we moved inexorably to orgasm. I came in shuddering moans and then he came inside me.




The Chosen One



A few minutes later I was still sprawled across the bed, sore and aching, as though every part of me had been violated by him. He was dressing with the same brisk efficiency with which he had removed his and my clothes. 

'What now?' I asked. He stopped to sip the cold coffee.

'You move in. If you want to.'

'With you?'

No,' he laughed, as if I had said the stupidest thing. 'I'll come for you when I want you.'

'When you've had enough -- or when you begin to bore me -- then, you leave,' he said, barely looking at me. 'There's a key on the hook in the kitchen. Don't worry, you don't have to pay rent. Well, not money anyway.'

He walked back to the bed and leant over me. He brushed hair from my face and kissed my forehead. His lips were warm and moist. 

I realized that I didn't know his name. 'What shall I call you?' I asked.

'Whatever you want.'

'Sir?'

He laughed. 'That's a good name. I'll call you Five.' I didn't ask why.

Then he laid a wedge of bank notes on the bed.

I began to protest. 'I'm not a ...'

'I know,' he said gently. 'It's a loan until you're sorted.'

He sniffed at my skin. 'Get a shower. You stink.'

Then he was gone. He didn't look back.

I pulled the duvet around me. That was when the weeping started. It wasn't guilt, or sorrow for what I had done to Robert, or even that I was already missing my anonymous lover. It was because in that moment I realised that what he had seen in me was true. And now I knew what I was, what I wanted, and what I had always wanted. 

(to be continued)

[Thanks to Sunwyln for her editorial advice]



The Chosen One



I would like to thank everyone on the out pouring of support for 'The Pandora Effect', I'm glad it went over so well. Dawn, Ken, Candi, thanks for helping me with the fine-tuning; you guys have such talent. I must be upfront and honest with Kevin's fans, this is his FINAL story. Now before everyone starts screaming about not killing him, you'll have to wait for the ending. Me and my little buddy have had a wonderful ride together, and I'll miss him a lot. There is one reader out there that gets some grief about her comments, so I'll just say this. MSBLING59, this story is dedicated to you dear, and you just keep writing in all caps no matter what. Please enjoy 'The Chosen One'.

June 1896, Archeology excavation on the Island of Delos in the Aegean Sea.

The sun beamed down on the three bodies that knelt in the hard soil of the island. With small brushes in hand, they removed the light brown earth that concealed the ancient artifact. An older man with short gray hair busied himself with the small particles covering the round tarnished metal, while the students worked on the surrounding area.

With great care, the team had most of the object visible to the naked eye. The old archeologist realized they were the first humans to look upon it in thousands of years. His hands were shaking as he reached into his vest pocket and produced a pair of sweat stained gloves. Once in place, he reached out with care and removed the blemished metal bracelet.

While his students leaned towards him for a closer look, Arthur Evans studied the strange markings on the wide bracelet. They appeared to be hieroglyphics of some sort; yet they were a long way from Egypt. The light around him faded as the Greek guard stood over him, blocking the sun's rays. With the care a mother would give to her child, he placed the artifact in a canvas bag for further study by Greek officials.

The guard took the bag and made his way back through the maze of ropes and flags designating other dig areas. When he saw one of Professor Evans' students heading through the opposite end of the site, he moved to the side and allowed him to pass. He cocked his head and watched as the young man made his way to the weathered archeologist.

Greg Lucas knelt down next to his teacher. "Excuse me Professor Evans, I've found something that I think you should see."

"Perhaps a little later Mr. Lucas, we need to continue in this area," he said as he placed his gloves back in his pocket.

"Sir, I think it's something you would be very interested in seeing. I found a cave just down the hill."

One of the other students chuckled aloud, and looked at Greg. "We just uncovered an ancient bracelet, and you want the professor to check out a cave full of bats. You should get a brush and help us with the current task instead of running around dark tunnels."

Greg ignored the irritating comment from his fellow student. He looked over his shoulder to see if any more guards were around, and then leaned down closer to Arthur Evens. "Professor, if I didn't think it was of importance, you know I wouldn't even bring it up, but I followed it and realized that it led to the ruins; it's directly under us, Sir."

Evans looked around to see if anyone other than the students had heard the news about the cave. When he saw it was safe, he reached down, grabbed his bag, and slung it over his shoulder. "Lead on dear boy. Try not to draw attention from the others and if asked, we are just stretching our legs," he said as checked the area one more time.

The pair walked as casual as they could, even though both were racing with excitement on the inside. Although many stone walls and pillars were visible at the birth place of the God Apollo, the thought of a secret passage was too tempting to pass up. Evans made a point to describe some of the excavated ruins to his student as they walked by one of the guards. When the guard remained at his post, the two continued down the hill towards the water's edge.

Evans followed his young student down a rocky path, dodging small brush as he went. It didn't take long before the salty water of the Aegean Sea began licking at his boots, as he continued to check and see if they were being followed. He noticed Greg stop and wait for the older man to catch up.

When Evans reached him, Greg looked up and down the coastline. "We should get inside before someone comes looking for us Professor."

"That would be a splendid idea Mr. Lucas, how much farther is it?" he asked as he looked at the rocky cliffs that lined the shore.

"We're here Sir, follow me."

Evans watched him walk right at the cliff, then vanished behind an outcropping of boulders. He was so astonished at the act, that he stood frozen in place as the water rushed in around his feet. Greg reappeared again holding a lantern and waiving him onward.

"Hurry Professor, it's this way," he said as he looked around.

Arthur Evans squeezed into the tight crevice and found himself at the entrance to a small cave. He watched as Greg crouched down and moved at a slow pace forward. As he followed him, he scanned the walls and soft ground for any signs in the cave represented anything of importance. After ten minutes of walking, they came upon a larger rock partially blocking the path.

"Mr. Lucas, I see nothing that makes me believe you have found something of value. Although I do applaud you for your enthusiasm, I should get back to the real treasure trove," Even said as turned around.

Greg moved up and grabbed the older man's arm. "Wait Professor, that's what I thought at first, but then I made it past that rock and found something. I don't know what it is or how much further the tunnel leads, but it's something you need to see."

"Very well my enthusiastic young student, show me this mystical discovery of yours," Evans said with a short laugh.

It took some maneuvering only a contortionist should do, but the pair made it past the obstructive rock. After pulling free, Professor Evans was about to reprimand his young student for talking him into the tunnel when Greg held the lantern close to the wall. What the archeologist saw on the wall astounded him.

Evans adjusted his glasses and studied the small etching in the cave wall. His mind flashed to the bracelet his team found earlier, it had the same drawing of numerous half-circle lines surrounding a triangle. He grabbed the lantern out of Greg's hand and began searching the walls, when he saw no other patterns, he returned to the etching.

"My dear Mr. Lucas, we need to explore the rest of the tunnel and see what we find," he said with excitement as he moved deeper into the cave.

The men walked with care down the tunnel searching for anything out of the ordinary that would indicate a rare discovery. After a hundred yards, the glow of the lantern cast an eerie shadow at the entrance to a small chamber. Evans' pulse quickened as he peered inside.

The aged archeologist took caution in his steps as he held the light over the floor. He scanned the area with a trained eye because he knew there was the possibility that artifacts might be exposed in the soft earth. After seeing no evidence that any were visible, he moved the light up and studied a small altar like structure.

Evans judged the height of the altar to be just over four feet, with a thick stone slab placed above two thinner uprights. He began to wonder how the eight-foot long table was placed on them. "The top alone must weigh a ton. It must have taken great effort to move it this far."

Greg knelt down next to the altar and ran his hand over the side. He twisted his head in confusion as he felt small indentations along its edge. Reaching into his own satchel, he pulled out a small brush and started removing the centuries of dust. Once he had a section cleaned, he motioned for his professor to come closer.

With the added light, the pair could make out strange markings along the edge. The more he brushed, the more the markings became visible. None of them seemed to be the same, although they appeared similar in design. "What do you think they are Professor?" Greg asked.

"The symbols could be anything my dear boy. Many ancient cultures wrote their language in pictures instead of words. Take the Egyptians; hieroglyphics were common centuries before any form of the alphabet was used to convey a message."

"This must mean the Egyptians were on the island years before anyone thought they could have been."

"That would be one assumption Mr. Lucas, but none of these markings are even close to any known hieroglyphics. I do believe we have discovered a new form of writing although we could spend years studying it and never know what it says," Evans replied as he joined his student in brushing the debris away.

As he moved along, he discovered a small round hole carved into the massive slab of stone. Greg's mind raced with the possibilities of the use of such a small hole, ranging from a lifting slot, to a space used to mount a torch.

He inserted the blunt end of the brush into the hole and began sliding it in. After a few inches, he felt pressure on the inverted brush, and then pushed with caution. The sound of stone on stone friction caused the pair to jump up and scan the room in a hurried panic.

Evan's knew of some cultures that set traps for unwanted guests, and he half expected a large stone to lodge itself in the only exit to the chamber as he scanned the room. "What did you just do Mr. Lucas?"

Greg's eyes were open wide and filled with fear as he looked around. "Nothing Professor, I swear! I had my brush inside that hole, that's all!"

The pair moved back towards the stone table and began walking around it. They seemed confused when nothing appeared out of the ordinary, as Evans sat down on the soft ground to catch his breath from the excitement. When he pulled his handkerchief out to wipe his face, the old man saw something odd underneath the huge stone top.

Moving the lantern inward, he noticed a small stone portion hanging at an angle. Both men moved closer to inspect the new find and their hearts raced with excitement. Professor Evans pulled his gloves out as Greg sat the light directly next to the opening.

The archeologist was about to place his hand inside when his young student grabbed his arm. "Do you think that's a wise course of action Professor? What happens if it's a trap, and it snaps shut with your hand in there?"

"In my astute opinion Mr. Lucas, if it was designed as a trap, I have a feeling we'd both be dead right now," he replied as he inched his hand closer with great care.

Within moments, the older man's eyes shot open and a smile formed on his weathered face. Removing his hand, he held what looked like a claw of some sorts. Holding it like a precious gem, he moved it closer to the light.

The large talon was longer than the width of his hand and slightly curved. The bottom side of the claw had nicks in it and he noticed a small crack near the base. He handed it to his assistant, but stopped short. "This is a very old artifact Mr. Lucas, please put your gloves on."

Once Greg had his leather gloves on, he was handed the large claw and turned it around in his hands as he watched his teacher reach into the stone altar's secret compartment again. What Professor Arthur Evans reveled next made him gasp in shock.

It was a scroll at least a foot long, with two gold ornaments on each end. The two men looked closer and noticed the ornaments resembled the head of a large dog, maybe even a wolf. When Evans pulled the scroll open, tears began to fill in his fading grey eyes.

The parchment was filled with hundreds of tiny symbols and markings that made no sense to either of them. With a large smile on his face, Evans rolled the scroll closed and placed it his bag. "No need telling our friends out there about any of this just yet Mr. Lucas, at least until I've had the chance to look it over."

Greg looked down at the talon he held. "We should keep this with the scroll Sir, it had to be there for a reason," he said as he drew the tip of the claw across his gloved hand.

The inexperienced archeologist screamed in pain as the razor sharp tip sliced through the thick leather and into his skin. Dropping the object on the floor, he clutched his hand in an attempt to stop the bleeding. Evans grabbed the neckerchief from around his neck and wrapped the wound tight.

After picking the talon back up, the professor placed it in the satchel with care and locked the bag. "Mr. Lucas, you just got an A for the course; now let's get back to the others and have that hand looked at," he said as the pair of men headed for the exit.

November 1946. Keeper's office at the Ashmolean Museum, Oxford England.

Edward Leeds sat at his large mahogany desk and wondered if the strange looking scroll could ever be deciphered completely. What, had over the years, become to be known as "Cretan Hieroglyphics" baffled anyone who studied it. There was no real order to the individual symbols, although a few of them seemed similar in nature to those discovered in Egypt.

The aging gentleman that was charged with the oversight of the museum, ran his boney fingers over the golden wolf heads on either side of the scroll. He chuckled to himself as he remembered one of the curators suggesting that the Gods held wolves in higher regard than the cat.

"There has to be a key that unlocks all of this; there just has to be," he thought as he marveled at the find from Professor Evans. What he didn't realize was the one man who held the answer, had just entered his outer office.

Thirty-year-old archeologist Kazuo Kaneko strode into the outer office, his dark suit concealing the taut body beneath it. He scanned the room, taking in the pieces of artwork that adorned the beige colored walls as he moved towards the secretary's desk. When their eyes locked, he bowed in respect to the much older women. His strict Japanese upbringing reminded him that when you receive age, it is a gift that is to be respected at all times.

The secretary rose from her seat and returned the gesture, then extended her hand across the paper-filled desk. "You must me Professor Kaneko, what an honor it is to meet you Sir."

"The pleasure all mine Miss. Please forgive English, I do try improve with use," he responded in broken English.

"Oh don't be silly Professor, I can understand you just fine. I'll let Mr. Leeds know you're here." The plump woman moved with a grace that defied her size and knocked on the oak door. As she opened it, she peered in and announced her employer's visitor.

Kazuo bowed again as he passed the secretary and entered Leeds' office. As he heard the door close behind him, he bowed towards the approaching keeper. He watched as the taller man returned the gesture and then extended his hand. When Kazuo grabbed it, he had to remember not to use his full strength. He knew it was always necessary not to reveal his true power.

"It's a pleasure to meet you at last Professor. I must say your work on ancient hieroglyphics have made considerable advances to the understanding of early Egyptian culture. Oh where are my manners, would you care for a spot of tea?" Leeds asked, his smile causing his worn face to appear even older.

Professor Kaneko bowed then returned the smile. "Yes please if have. Forgive English, I am not used to using," he said and then returned his eyes to the floor in an apologetic nature. 

"Oh don't fret dear boy, you should hear my attempt at Japanese. It seems the more I try to get the hang of it, the worse I start to sound." Leeds chuckled to himself as he poured the hot liquid into the gleaming white china cup.

He walked over and handed Kaneko the tea. The archeologist held the delicate cup and bowed with grace. "Domo arigato."

Leeds continued to smile at the young prodigy. "Dou -- um -- itashimashite. I think I said that correctly."

"Sound very good Mr. Leeds. I was informed you need translation. I am happy my Egyptian better than English."

Edward Leeds walked back around his desk and sat down. He was still a little apprehensive at what he was about to show the leading expert in ancient writings. Since Sir Arthur Evans smuggled the scroll out of Crete, only a few people had laid eyes on it. He looked down at the white cloth, which covered the artifact and tapped his fingers on the glossy desk.

"To be honest with you Professor Kaneko, I need your help with something other than Egyptian hieroglyphics. The museum has an ancient scroll that was discovered on the Island of Delos."

"Ah, birthplace of Apollo. Many unique items found there," Kaneko said as he placed the teacup on the desk.

"Yes there are, but this one was taken out of a stone altar by my predecessor Sir Author Evans in 1896. From our testing we believe it dates back to 3000 BC, maybe even earlier."

Kazuo Kaneko laughed a bit and reached for his tea. "Hieroglyphics not used that far back Mr. Leeds. Sure testing correct?"

"Given your extensive knowledge, that is precisely why I asked for you to come and take a look at it," Leeds said as he pulled the cloth away, thus revealing the most guarded possession of the museum.

When Kazuo saw the scroll come into view, it took all his will power not to drop the fine china cup as the Asian professor tried hard to keep the werewolf beast within him under control. Every story he could remember from his father came flashing in quick images. They were the same stories his father's father had also told him, the same ones that had been passed down for generations in order to keep the information safe, but very alive.

Even though a lycanthrope had not seen the scroll for centuries, he knew exactly what was written on the ancient parchment. Alesandro, the first werewolf, guardian of Pandora 's Box, knew of a time when certain werewolves would come. They were far superior in every way to the others.

Kazuo's mind flashed back to that of his grandfather, a very wise old man who lived high in the mountains of Japan, his words still ringing in his sensitive ears. "The great Alesandro realized the danger if the time of the coming would fall into the hands of the dark beings that roam the earth with us. It is our responsibility to help the humans and protect the chosen ones. If the dark beings find the chosen ones when they are still young, they could kill them before the meeting, thus gaining power and plunge the earth into darkness."

"Professor, are you alright?" Leeds stood and walked around his desk and peered down at the smaller Japanese archeologist.

Kazuo Kaneko's eyes shot up towards Leeds' benevolent face. "What! Oh please excuse." He bowed in embarrassment. "I lost in old memory, please forgive."

"It's nothing to worry dear boy, we all drift off at some time or another. I was just saying if you wouldn't mind having a look at it and giving me your opinion, it might help us find the key to unlocking it."

The two men walked around the large desk and then Leeds opened a drawer and produced a pair of white gloves. After handing them to Kazuo, he donned his own pair and unrolled the scroll so his colleague could study the strange drawings.

Kazuo's breath caught in his throat as he gazed upon the scroll of Alesandro. He never imagined in his wildest dreams he would be asked to translate the scroll that every werewolf dreamed of seeing, if only for a brief moment in time. He chuckled to himself as he thought of the Council of Lycan, for even they would be in awe at the sight.

His hand was trembling with small vibrations as he touched the golden wolf head, and then trailed his fingers across the centuries old document. The ability to read the ancient language was passed down from generation to generation in his family, even though he never thought he would use it one day for this single purpose.




The Chosen One



"Quite impressive isn't it Professor Kaneko?" The old man's words broke him out of the revere that surged through his muscular frame.

"Yes, impressive Mr. Leeds. Similar to Egyptian, but not. How many people see scroll?" he asked as he unveiled more of the document.

"I would have to estimate around a hundred or so, but that was when the scroll first arrived here. There are only four alive today that know of its existence; you make five. The only reason it is in my office, is that you were arriving today; otherwise, it remains in the vault under lock and key. The keeper of the museum is the only one allowed access to it."

Kazuo placed his fingertip on one particular drawing. A group of about a hundred different symbols placed in a spiraling circle. There were heavy lines separating them into groups of four to five characters each. The design of the grouping worked inward towards the center until they reached a distinct diagram.

A grouping of dots arranged around one large sphere. Without question, it represented the sun with nine planets in orbit around it; but the unique position of three of them told Kazuo everything he needed to know. As he ran his finger lower along the scroll, he stopped at the drawing just beneath the circular sketch; fourteen separate dots with a single line of symbols beneath it.

"I can smell the smoke beginning to fill the room Professor," Leeds said with a short chuckle.

Kazuo looked up with alarmed eyes, scanned the room, and sniffed the air around him. "I smell no smoke Mr. Leeds."

"No, no, it's just an expression Professor. It seems as if you were very deep in thought about our little gem. Do you think there is a rhyme or reason behind the symbols?"

"Um -- path of symbols lead to center of universe. Believe in Apollo's accent to Olympus. If I take, I try to study more," Kazuo lied with a slight hint of hope, but knew the museum would never let it leave.

"Forgive me Professor, but that would be out of the question. I can however arrange for you to stay close by and you can examine the scroll in the vault area."

The short statured Asian werewolf bowed in respect. "Arigato gozaimasu."

Leeds returned the bow and smiled. "The honor is all mine Professor Kaneko. By the way, what do you make of the drawing just below the main sketch?"

Kazuo returned his trained eyes to the scroll of Alesandro and ran his gloved finger just below the single line of symbols. "Triumph is within the light." He then returned his gaze to the man who held the most powerful document known to Lycanthropes.

"No idea Mr. Leeds. I study more and give answer." Kazuo was just about to excuse himself so he could settle in and get to work studying the document when Leeds pulled open his desk drawer.

The keeper reached in, retrieved a small wooden box, and presented it to the younger archeologist. "Most of us here don't think this has anything to do with it, but something was found along with the scroll."

For the second time since arriving at Ashmolean Museum, Kazuo Kaneko was shocked into disbelief after opening the lid. With great care, he picked the large talon up and studied it. His mind flashed back once again to the stories told by his ancestors, the ones about how someone would know the scroll is true.

"My God, I'm holding one of the talons of Alesandro himself," he thought.

"Our testing determined that it's canine, although I must admit, that would have to be one very large dog," Leeds said, interrupting Kazuo's reveries.

"Yes Mr. Leeds, I too believe is no connection to scroll. Why keep in desk?"

"I'm not sure what it came from, but it's very useful for opening my mail," Leeds said with a laugh, then began rolling the scroll closed

August 1995, Fairwood resort, Southampton Bermuda.

The sun beamed down onto the black SUV limousine as it slowed to a stop in front of the covered entrance to the large four-story building. A well-dressed bellhop moved up, opened the passenger door, then stood back and allowed the passenger to exit. The young man found it difficult not to gasp aloud as the massive ebony skinned man stood erect.

Franklin Dubois took a deep breath of the clean salt air. He smiled a soft smile as the smell of fear mixed with the ocean breeze. As he turned to thank the young bellhop with a small gratuity, the fear grew heavier in the air and he noticed the bellhop staring at the black velvet patch covering his left eye.

Franklin extended his large hand holding the money, yet the twenty three year old failed to take it. "Rest easy young man, the loss of my eye is not contagious. Would you see to my bags please?" He darted around to the rear of the vehicle, praying the large male wouldn't have him fired for his rudeness.

The CEO of Dubois Industries strode into the plush setting of the lobby with an air of authority. His natural ability for caution caused him to scan the area for any potential threats but saw there were few guests in immediate area. As the hairs on the back of his neck began to tingle, he snapped his head to the left and saw a well-dressed man exiting from an office door.

It took just seconds to realize who the man was, even though the photographs of him were somewhat misleading. The owner of the Fairwood resort was more muscular than he was led to believe, and Dubois tensed as the shorter man extended his hand.

"Mr. Dubois, it is such an honor to have you and the rest of the council staying with us," Rick Parsons exclaimed as he grasped Franklin's large, powerful hand.

"Thank you Mr. Parsons, the pleasure is all ours. I must say your generous offer was well received during our last meeting in Brussels. I pray we will not be disturbed during our stay here?"

As the Alpha male of the pack that lived on the island, he knew when the council meet every year that privacy was something the five werewolves who made up the council demanded above all else. He was not about to let the chance of a lifetime become ruined because his human staff messed it up for him.

"I have personally seen to every detail Sir and I can assure you there will be no problems with your stay. My staff and I are at your disposal day and night."

"Thank you and I do believe that problem you're having on the far end of the island is our first order of business. Have the others arrived yet?" he said as noticed his bags being carried to the front desk.

"Yes Sir, they arrived yesterday and they're waiting for you by the pool; just through those doors to the right Mr. Dubois. With your permission, I'll have your things sent to your room," Parsons said as he handed him the gold key card.

The head of the Council of Lycan moved towards the door, his 240-pound frame moving with ease as he pushed the oak door open. There was a soft breeze blowing as he walked out into the bright sunshine, causing his royal blue shirt to move around his muscular body.

He watched as the three wolves, all in human form, turn in haste as he approached them. The lone male, James Gordon, broke out in a large smile and reached out for his colorful drink in front of him while the two women adjusted their small frames to a more comfortable position.

Turning his vision towards the other guests at the pool, he saw most of the lodgers on the other side of the crystal clear water sunning themselves in the golden rays of the afternoon, while a very tan muscular male swam laps. He chuckled as he watched the other member of the council teasing the human females with his good looks as he turned and kicked off the wall of the pool. His obvious maleness visible in his taunt bathing suit.

As Franklin pulled his chair out, he gave the two women a knowing smile. "I see Eduardo is still taking our meetings as serious as ever," he said to the blond haired woman from Australia.

Candrea Lacson looked towards the pool and then shrugged her shoulders. As a genetic scientist, she understood everything about both human and werewolf behavior, but the constant need for the male model from Rio to be adored was beyond her comprehension. "He's a complete moron if you ask me."

The other male member of the council set his drink down and smiled at the Alpha. "Damn glad you could make it Frank. I told the little ladies here I was going to have to send a posse out after you soon," Jim Gordon said.

James T. Gordon, better known to his friends as Gordo, was the only American ever accepted to a place on the council. He was an expert when it came to geology, which provided an excellent cover on his varied trips around the world for meetings. Jim's cowboy like demeanor always made the French executive smile.

"I don't get to, escape, the confines of my normal life as freely as you can James. If you have forgotten, I do have a company to run from time to time." Franklin motioned for the server standing close by to bring him the same drink as his fellow board member was having.

"Yeah well, you should try to get out more and get dirty with us little folks like me and Atsuko; you'll get a kick out of playing in the dirt partner," he replied as he nodded his head towards the small frames Asian woman seated across from him.

Atsuko Kaneko reached forward and picked up her water. She glared at the brown haired man across from her who never missed a moment to chide her about being an Archeologist. The sole offspring of Kazuo Kaneko placed her drink down, moved a large envelope towards Franklin, and then looked over Jim's shoulder to see the last member of the group exiting the pool.

"It seems Eduardo has finished his performance for the human females by the pool," she said as every head turned to watch him step out of the water.

The most sought after male model from Rio ran his sculpted hands through his jet-black hair, allowing the cool drips to run down his bronze colored skin. With his arms up at a high angle, he knew the young women seated nearby were studying his taut, chiseled abdomen, as well as his bulging swimsuit.

When Eduardo turned and went to meet his companions, his exceptional hearing picked up the gasps and lewd comments coming from the women laying back in their chairs, but studying him through their sunglasses. He paused and bent down, pretending to brush something from his foot. His actions were well received as a woman not far behind him let out a small groan of approval.

Once he reached the table, he grabbed a towel and began patting his face dry. "You are late Franklin. I can put you in touch with a fine travel agency that will get you to meetings on time if you would like."

"I'll consider it Eduardo when you stop teasing the humans. Maybe next time I'll choose a more suitable location for all of us. There is that one wolf that is begging us to meet in Siberia," Franklin said as he picked up his drink.

Jim slapped the model on the shoulder and smiled. "Yeah Ed old buddy, we're supposed to blend in with the locals, not make them crazy like a cowboy on his first night in a salon."

Candrea sighed with annoyance as she rolled her eyes at the two men. "Could you two please put a hold on the testosterone output so we can get the initial meeting out of the way? There's a new research paper on DNA cloning that I've wanted to look over."

"Boy you sure are cute little filly Candi when you get your dander up," Jim responded.

Franklin cleared his throat to get everyone's attention. "Now that we have the greetings out of the way, let's get down to why we are all here this year. Atsuko, is this the information I asked about at the last meeting?"

"Yes Franklin it is," she said as he opened the envelope and pulled out a stack of papers and photos.

"My father went to considerable trouble to obtain that, but the effort has been rewarding. As you can see in the first photo of the scroll, it gives us the date in which the chosen one will be born. Roughly translated, it means when the dog, the rings, and the wolf child are aligned, he will come to command great power within the ruby."

Franklin was not about to dispute her analysis of the scroll of Alesandro. Her family decedents were the only known werewolves who had the ability to decipher the ancient language of the first lycanthrope. That rare ability made the small female perfect for joining the council. The time was nearing for the confrontation, and he needed every advantage.

Eduardo leaned over and glanced at the picture with a puzzled look. "I think the first part is about the planets. The dog and the rings must be Pluto and Saturn, but I don't understand the wolf child part."

"I didn't think you would," Atsuko said. "If you would spend less time trying to impress human females, you might have learned a thing or two about astrology. The mention of the wolf child is in reference to the constellation Canine minor."

Franklin shuffled through the paperwork and found a hand drawn map depicting the alignment. "That's excellent work Atsuko. I take it you have found the answer to the riddle and provided us with a location."

"I have Franklin. The last time the alignment occurred was in March of 1970 and it lines up perfectly with a small coastal town in the United States. The last piece of information is a list of the names of families who had births that day."

The leader of the council passed out copies to the others at the table and they began reading. He glanced at his fellow members who seemed puzzled by the long list of names, although he already knew who he was looking for. When he looked at Atsuko, she was sipping her water, as she too knew the answer.

Eduardo tossed his handout back onto the table and leaned back in his chair. "That's a lot of families we'll have to track down, and what in God's name is one of us living in Texas for? I've been there before on a shoot once; did you know you can drive a whole day without seeing a tree?"

"I have already taken the liberty on doing the background on the subject. There is one surname on the list that jumps out at you," Atsuko said as she reached down into her satchel. "Here's what I've come up with so far Franklin."

She handed him a manila folder with a single name on the front. As he opened it, the first photo jumped out at him. It was of a young looking man who he once considered inviting to be on the council in 1968, but he married a human, which disqualified him. 

He started flipping through the other photos and stopped when he came upon the write up on the activities of the only child. "This is all you have on him?"

"I found what I could about his military career up until he joined a Special Forces unit; after that there seems to be an intentional blackout of information. His last known location is on the bottom of the report."

Franklin looked over the documents again, then closed the folder and slid it over to Candrea Lacson. "I want you and Eduardo to head to the states and start getting information on him. I want to know his life story by the next meeting."

Candrea looked down at the name on the folder, then back up to Franklin Dubois. "We'll head there after we finish the rest of the meeting. It shouldn't take us long to find out everything there is to know about Mr. Kevin Dvorska."

Franklin gave Jim Gordon a blazing stare. He was going to ask the question of which he already knew the answer. "James, please tell me you have something on the whereabouts of Bashir Haddad and the two others." His voice full of concern.

Jim sighed with deep regret as he shook his head in disbelief. "I'm telling Frank, it doesn't make sense. The last known report was somewhere around Gibraltar, but by the time my guys got there, the up and vanished like a horse fart on the prairie."

The others cast their eyes downward; they knew how much the Alpha male wanted the three terrorist werewolves. "I want them found -- James -- and I want them found soon."

Navy Beach, Little Creek, Virginia.

The morning sun casted a soft glow against the pine trees which lined the soft white sand. The sound of the gentle waves rolling with ease upon the beach provided a soothing addition to the sounds of the turtledoves cooing high in the protective branches. 

Another sound added to the serenity of the crisp morning along the Virginia coastline, the distinct sounds of a runner's labored steps as they splashed against the waters licking edge. The muscular man wore a pair of royal blue runners' shorts along with a khaki colored backpack. His appearance was normal to most who visited the beach, but his chiseled upper body was anything but normal.

As the runner slowed to a brisk walk, he raised his powerful arms above his head and breathed the salt air into his heaving lungs. His medium length hair hung damp and dripping of sweat which fell with ease upon his golden tanned skin.

As he slowed his gate as he pulled the heavy pack off, leaving his torso exposed to the morning rays. Placing the bag on the sand, he undid the straps, flipped the top open, and retrieved the cold water that was nestled among the sixty pounds of weights he carried on the morning jog.

Kevin Dvorska took a long pull on the bottle and sighed with relief as he shook his head to dispel the salty liquid clinging to his brown hair. "Being ordered not to get a haircut is starting to get on my nerves," he thought to himself.

His keen senses picked up the approach of others emerging from the tree line and he turned in haste to see two young men carrying a bright red cooler down towards the water's edge.

Kevin knew this particular stretch of Navy Beach was a well-known spot for having parties on the weekends and this particular Saturday morning was turning out to be the same. The Navy SEAL placed the water back in his bag and strapped the heavy satchel on his back for the six-mile return trip.

The point man for the recently formed SEAL Team Six smiled at the two men as they placed their load down and stared back with distain in their eyes. "I guess you can't read can you hippie," one of them said.

Kevin laughed inside at the snide remark. "Just out for a morning jog fellas. I think I'll just be on my way now."

"Next time you want to get some exercise in, do it somewhere else. The sign says Navy Beach and we don't like civilians making any appearances.

The veteran SEAL realized there were some sailors who didn't have the right leadership and failed to understand that once in the military, your duty was to protect and serve the same civilians' they were now making fun of. He turned and flashed a large smile and raised his left hand in an improper fake salute.

"Not a problem Admiral, I won't let it happen again," he replied and then started his return journey back home.

His keen hearing as a werewolf allowed him to pick up the continuing conversation of the two sailors as he trotted away. "Jesus Ken, the fucking retard doesn't even know how to salute."

"Well what do you expect from a hippie?"

**********

Adam Dawson sat down hard in the overstuffed recliner in his living room. He silently cursed himself as he felt the hot coffee splash on his taut muscular leg. Placing the large hot mug on the table next to him, he grabbed his shirt that was lying close by and began wiping the scalding liquid.

The soft sound of footsteps caught his attention as he looked up to see his wife, Kristine, stroll with a hint of seduction down the staircase. "I rolled over and found that I was all alone in a big comfy bed. That is no way to wake up on such a beautiful Saturday morning; not when I have a hunky husband that is supposed to be tending to his leg."

Adam watched as her long Auburn hair swayed with ease in time with her slim hips hidden beneath the black satin teddy. Her sparkling blue eyes stared into his as she moved with a natural grace that would cause any male in the room to lose his mind in the vision of splendor.




The Chosen One



The Navy SEAL leader swallowed hard as his wife moved to within inches of his stretched out legs. When she brushed her delicate fingers along the sparse hairs of his leg, he felt his once flaccid member begin to fill with hot surging blood. Even though they had been married for a few years now, her insatiable drive for morning attention seemed to grow stronger with time.

"You would have thought that you got enough last night, or have you forgotten that I still have a hurt leg from the Pandora mission?"

Kristine knelt between his legs and moved her hands along his powerful limbs. "Oh you poor baby. Did I wear my Adonis like husband out last night? Want me to kiss it and make it all better?"

Adam couldn't deny the throbbing erection rising up his lose fitting shorts. "Just because we have a bunch of time off, doesn't mean we have to make love every waking moment."

Kristine moved her hand inside his shorts and grasped the now very hard member. "Oh I agree my little stud muffin, that's why we'll just have sex every now and then to break up the monotony," she replied with a giggle.

"My leg hurts too much."

"Then I'll be gentle with you."

"I have a headache."

"I'll give you something else to think about," she whispered as she pulled the shorts down.

"The stove is on and we'll burn down the house."

"Then I'll make it quick before the fire trucks get here," she breathed just before taking the large head between her red lips.

Adam tossed his head back and moaned deep in his throat. It never failed to amaze him at her ability to stimulate him along with her determination to get what she wanted. As he placed his hands on the side of her bobbing head, he began to wonder if there would come a time when her sex drive would begin to dwindle. He could feel his pulse quicken and he lifted her face up so he could look at his loving wife.

"You're going to kill me, you know that right?" Adam said as he tried to catch his breath.

"Then tell me your secrets SEAL," she said in a stern voice.

Adam rolled his eyes as he realized she was roleplaying her favorite scenario. She always fell into some sort of role when she was turned on more than usual. He knew that if he just played along and gave her what she wanted she would leave him alone for a few hours of peace and coffee.

"I'll never talk; I have more will power than you think. I'm trained to endure torture," he replied as she stroked him with quick movements.

"Are you trained to endure this kind of punishment?" Kristine placed her lips once again over the bulbous head, and in one fluid motion, drove her mouth down until the throbbing head was sheltered in her throat.

When Adam felt the tightness engulf him, he shook with wanton need for release. When he felt her begin to rise, he took a deep breath and waited for her to speak again. What he didn't expect her to do was to repeat the torturous act again. "Oh dear God, don't do that Kristine."

His loving wife again raised her head and palmed the now sensitive tip. "Then tell me where you SEAL team is at Commander."

"Go to hell, I won't talk."

Kristine placed her lips around the leaking tip and flicked it with the tip of her tongue. Once there was a steady flow, she stabbed it deep into her throat again. When she heard no reply from her husband, she moaned, which caused an agonizing sensation to shoot through his groin.

There was no way Lieutenant Commander Adam Dawson could hold back the impending consequences of her talented actions. Even after last nights frenzied actions, the Navy SEAL still shot rope after rope into his wife's hungry stomach. When he began to soften, Kristine raised her head and took a deep, and needed breath.

"Now that's how you're supposed to wake up in the morning sweetheart," Kristine said as she licked her lips.

"If that's -- how it's going -- to be -- while I'm on leave, I have to -- find -- another job," Adam gasped as he tried to regain his composure.

"Try to rest now dear and get your strength back. We're supposed to have lunch with Kevin and Laura this afternoon down at the Virginia Beach pier," she said as she walked to the kitchen for her morning coffee.  "I think I'll have it black, I've already had the cream."

"Thank God; she can't attack me in public. I wonder if Kevin's couch is open so I can get some rest?"

**********

Deep in the bowels of the CIA headquarters in Langley Virginia, Neil Hawkins studied the papers scattered around his desk. As a retired Navy SEAL Commander, he was used to puzzling questions, but the more he looked them over the more confusing the questions became about a single rogue scientist.

She didn't follow any known terrorist tactics; vanished without a trace; and in general was pissing off the old SEAL. In frustration, he picked up the photo of a stunning woman in her mid-thirties with long black hair. Under any normal circumstances, she would be just another hot looking Russian; but she was far from anything but normal.

"I just don't understand how someone with looks like that could fall off the planet without a trace?" The new Director of the Special Activities Division mused, as he leaned back in the high backed leather chair.

"Where in the world are you Miss Nadia Karpov?"

Ocean Eddies, Virginia Beach pier, Virginia Beach Virginia.

The young woman bit her bottom lip as she and her fiancé walked hand in hand up the old wooden pier. A stunning vision of youthful beauty in her own right, but her bright brown eyes darted from person to person watching for any signs of disgust.

She touched the side of her head and caressed the short, almost crew cut like, black hair. The striking woman had cause to be nervous; this particular Saturday morning was the first time since she was eight that she was out in public without her wig. The car crash that claimed her parents, left her scarred for life, that is until John Balch gave her a small gift from heaven.

Kevin squeezed Laura's hand in a reassuring manner. "Try to calm down sweetheart; no one is noticing anything except a hot chic with her fiancé."

"I should have waited for it to come in more; it's only been a week."

Kevin spotted the sign for the seafood restaurant and pushed the small salon type doors open. As he held them for his soul mate to enter, something caught his werewolf senses as a small ocean breeze kicked up the scent.

He allowed Laura to enter as he scanned the crowded pier. With the breeze dying down, the scent subsided and he failed to pick up any other signs of danger. After another short scan, he followed her into the small establishment.

As the SEAL scanned the area, he couldn't decide on whether or not it was a bar or a restaurant. It had a lone L-shaped bar on one side with a few tables against the other wall. Most of the tables were positioned outside on a long balcony that over looked the busy beachfront. When he spotted his team leader and his wife outside, he once again held the door open for his lover, and the mother of his unborn child.

"It's about time you got here," Adam said as he stood up and gave Laura a soft hug.

"Don't come down on me Boss; it took a bit of convincing to get her out of the house without her safety net," Kevin shot back as he pulled a chair open for her next to Kristine.

Kristine put her arm around the nervous friend and pulled her towards her. "I think it looks fantastic Laura. I just don't understand how it could happen?"

Laura shot Kevin a questioning glance of how to answer the very capable Intelligence Officer. She knew she couldn't tell Kristine the truth about what Kevin had said. Even now, she had trouble coming to grips with the knowledge that the SEAL medic was, in truth, an angel. Kevin warned her about never telling a living soul about the real identity of John Henry Balch.

Kevin grabbed her hand. "I guess you can't keep true beauty hidden for long."

A pretty beach blond server walked up and interrupted the conversation. As the group ordered lunch and drinks, Laura looked out towards the open ocean in hopes of finding a way to tell her friends about the other bit of news that they decided to keep secret for a short while longer. The two of them had talked at great length about the repercussions of a werewolf fathering a child with a human female.

Her thoughts were torn when the server asked about a drink for her. "What -- oh sorry -- just water for me thank you."

Kevin saw the anguish in her eyes. "Good choice, that way you don't get tipsy and take advantage of me again. We're supposed to be resting."

Laura shot a stern glare towards him. "Kevin Dvorska!"

"I know how you feel little buddy," Adam added as he rubbed his sore leg.

Kristine leaned over to her friend while scowling at her husband. "Men, they're all the same; don't give them sex, they complain. When they do get it -- they still complain."

The small group shared a welcomed laugh after a rough mission. It was good to have the time off to heal and reconnect with the reasons that brought them together as friends in the first place. Kevin looked around at the smiling faces as the server brought the drinks out to them.

After she was gone, Kevin raised his beer in a toast. "To good times; good friends; and even better families."

The all touched in the middle and took a slow sip of the ice cold liquid. Adam set his beer down and leaned back in the weathered wood chair. "Speaking of family, when are you two going to stop screwing around and make it official?"

Kevin shot a look towards Laura who was playing with her water bottle. "I asked her when we got back Adam. You're now looking at the future Mrs. Kevin Dvorska."

Adam and Kristine both jumped in their seats as the news hit them. Kristine grabbed Laura and hugged her tight, while Adam grabbed his point man's hand and shook it with a firm grip while slapping him on the back. The pair of them smiled and thanked their friends for their well wishes, but Laura continued to stare at her water.

Kristine released her hold and placed her hands on the table. "Oh my God Adam we have so much to do. We need dresses; you two have to find a church. We gotta tell the rest of the team; they'll go ape shit when they hear this. We're going to have to get a big reception hall for all the..."

"I'm pregnant."

The outside deck was dead quiet except for the sound of the surf surging with ease against the beach. The bombshell news had taken the unsuspecting couple off guard as Kevin picked up his beer and took a long pull. When he glanced at his lover, she seemed to be in a fight or flight mode as she looked in haste towards the door leading into the other area.

Kevin wanted to join her in her escape but his training kicked in and decided to continue the conversation. "Well don't everyone jump for joy all at once, they'll kick us out."

"Holy -- freakin -- shit Kevin! Outstanding shipmate, just God dam outstanding!" Adam screamed.

Kristine grabbed Laura and broke down in tears of happiness as she rocked her with concerned care. "Oh Laura, you don't know how happy I am for you baby. If anyone deserved a gift from heaven it's you two."

When she let go of her, Laura picked up her water and brought it up. "Kevin and I have been talking about, you know, the gift. I don't know if it's a good thing or not," she said as she sipped her water.

Kevin leaned towards Kristine. "That small matter will have to come into play some time or another Kristine. Remember Kordic's daughter? She couldn't turn but she had the same senses, and then there's that little point of what happens at puberty."

Kristine took a hard stare at the human form of a very dangerous werewolf. "Don't you even start that with me young man! Everyone you have ever had to go up against was raised in some sort of violent upbringing! What about Jake Newton? He turned out as one of the good guys. So don't even go there!"

Adam leaned forward. "Okay everyone, settle down, that includes you Kristine. I thought you told me once that the gift might skip a generation? Have you two thought about that angle?"

"Sure I have Adam, but what if the opposite happens? What happens if he or she inherits my bloodline? Better yet, if the kid turns out to be pure human, how the hell do I explain what I am?" Kevin lowered his head. "Now I know what my own mom and dad went through."

"I can't answer that for you Kevin. What I can say is no matter what, that kid is going to have a hell of a lot of protection. Can you imagine if it's a girl and her prom date shows up to a room full of SEALs?"

Kristine shook her finger at her husband. "You clowns are not going to scare some poor boy to death because you're over protective!"

"Can we please stop talking about what might happen, I'm nervous enough as it is," Laura complained as the server walked up with their lunch.

As the plates were being passed around for the shrimp and crab, a small breeze picked up around them. Kevin once again caught the faint scent of another lycanthrope and he scanned the area with a trained eye, and then shot his vision towards the beach below. This time though the scent was even closer than before.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary as he watched people walk around in the sand and along the boardwalk. Teenagers playing in the surf, loving couples walking along the boardwalk or leaning against the rail watching the open ocean; it appeared to be just a normal day in Virginia Beach.

**********

Candrea Lacson and Eduardo Matos leaned against the rail that separated the boardwalk from the white sands of Virginia Beach. He had his arm around her as she leaned against him. Every so often, one of them would shoot a glance towards the outer deck of the restaurant.

"It seems as if we have some strange news to deliver during the next meeting," Eduardo said as he slipped his hand lower along the Australian woman's back.

"In deed we do. I've never heard of a chosen one bearing a child with a human. The other bit of news will be what happened to your arm if you don't get it off my ass and back on my shoulder." Candrea's tone left little to the imagination on how she felt about being pawed at.

Eduardo moved his hand back up and sighed. "I can see that he senses us when the wind moves the right way, but he has trouble picking us out. Maybe he's not the chosen one after all."

"Well that's why we're here -- Ed -- so we should try to find areas he's weak in so we can have a full report for Franklin."

**********

Kevin continued to search the area, and once again, failed to come up with any clues as to why his werewolf side sensed danger. When he gave up his search, Kevin reached in a grabbed a crab cake and a few pieces of shrimp. He glanced over towards his best friend and noticed the stare he was getting.

"What?"

"Don't what me Dvorska, I know that look when I see it, you smell something don't you," Adam replied.

"Just every once in a while when the wind picks up. I'm sure it's nothing to freak out about, okay."

Laura looked around with worried eyes. "Are we in danger?"

He watched as the three humans darted their eyes back and forth, looking for something that only he could pick up due to the area they were at. "Will you people try to calm down please, you three look like the place is on fire or something." 

Kristine pushed her plate back and grabbed Laura's hand. "Yeah and what if the bastard tries something here?"

Kevin shook his head in vain. "Now that I know I'm not the only one in America with this -- talent -- I'd have to say it's probably some passerby who got the same scent I did and is running away as we speak. I don't know about you three but I'm hungry," he stated as he reached in for more food.

The two couples dropped the subject of werewolves and danger and feasted on fresh seafood and drinks. Kristine occupied her time with Laura going over ideas about gowns for a wedding. Kevin and Adam talked about sports, and trying to figure out what to do with all that time off. They both knew that their wives would fuck them to near death if they didn't have something to do outside the house.

When the server came to take the empty dishes away, they ordered another round of drinks and basked in the afternoon sun. Adam watched as Kristine and Laura went over baby names and health issues related to pregnancy.

He began to wonder in silence whether there would be a baby Adam or Kristine running around the house, then wrecking it. He studied the details of her face as she talked excitedly with her friend. "Yeah maybe someday it will happen."

"...names so far?" Kevin's voice brought his friend out of his trance.

"Um -- what?" Adam asked as he turned to his point man.

"You got any ideas for names so far, or haven't you decided to take the offer about the new team?"

"To be honest, I haven't had much time to think about work due to -- extenuating circumstances -- around the house."

Kristine stopped in mid-sentence with Laura to shoot her husband another glaring scowl. "Get off your pity party SEAL and suck it up."

The group laughed at the slap towards her husband and leaned back in their chairs as they continued to discuss matters other than work. In the backs of the two SEAL's minds, they both knew that the time would come when would have to return to being what they were trained to be.

After a long session of laughs and discussions, Kevin checked his watch and noticed that it was getting late and he should get his pregnant wife home to rest. After paying the bill, the two couples stood and made their way towards the exit.

As they walked down the pier, Laura grabbed Kristine's arm and walked with her towards the boardwalk as their husbands scanned the area. When they found no danger, Adam looked towards his friend. "The training never stops does it," he laughed.

"Jesus Adam, we got our first time off in a long time and we still can't let it go for an afternoon," Kevin replied with a smile.

Adam looked towards the large Ferris wheel at the edge of the parking lot. He laughed inside as he spotted Kevin's car parked next to his in the almost full parking lot. He was glad that the young SEAL could find a spot not too far away from the restaurant so Laura didn't have to walk much in her condition.

When they reached the cars, Adam placed his hand inside the pocket of his khaki pants and pulled the small set of keys out. After pressing the button on the key fob, the distinctive click of the locks could be heard snapping open.

Just as they were about to split up, something caught Kevin's attention out of the corner of his vision. Three men were walking straight towards them, but the thing that made his senses twitch, was that they were all smiling at him. "Adam."

Adam turned his head and noticed the men walking with a purpose towards Kevin. They all appeared to be in their mid-twenties with sandy windblown hair. Given their rather thin stature, he knew they were nothing more than a mere annoyance, but his training told him to be on guard for anything.

As they neared Kevin, the one in the middle spoke first as the other two remained a step off to the side of him. "Hey dude, I was wondering if you had change for a ten."

Kevin sniffed the air and discovered one of them reeked of fear. "Sorry guys, I'm all tapped out but if you go down on the pier I'm sure someone there can help you."

"That's too bad, maybe your dad there can break a ten for me. What do you say Gramps, got any spare ones on you?"

Adam walked around and stood near Kevin as he glared at the arrogant leader. "I really think it's a good idea for you three to head to the pier and get some ice cream. I would hate to spoil your afternoon."

Kristine walked over and put her arm around Laura as she stood on the other side of the car watching her love talk to the three men. "Adam we were having such a great day, don't spoil it by fighting."




The Chosen One



Adam's eyes remained locked on the one man closest to him. "I'm not sweetheart. I was just letting them know where they could get some change."

The obvious leader cocked his head towards the two lovely women. "How about you Grandma, you or your daughter got any spare change?"

Kristine glared at the snide remark. "The way I see it -- sonny -- is you three have a few options here. You can leave and enjoy the nice day, or you can stay and learn how to respect your elders. The first one keeps you out of the hospital."

With a quick movement of his hand, the leader pulled a six-inch switchblade out and pointed at Kevin. The way he was brandishing it, told him he was willing and capable of using the deadly instrument. His eyes remained locked on his first target as his vision picked up the other one moving off to the side.

"I think the only one going to the hospital today is this guy. Now give us your fucking money," the leader said as he glared back at Kevin.

Adam let a small chuckle out, but remained focused on the man in front of him. "Okay have it your way guys, but remember she did try and warn you. One or two Kevin?"

"You are getting up in years Adam; I'll take two because I feel sorry for you."

"You and I are going to have to have a chat about how to treat your superiors Kev," Adam replied just as his target began to rotate his shoulder for an attack.

Kevin's first target shoved the knife forward, and he laughed inside at the slow movement. With a quick dart of his powerful hand, he shoved the attack down and drove two fingers of his other hand into the base of his attacker's throat.

As the would be assailant gasped for air, he saw the next man take a step forward. With a rapid twist of his hips, he thrust his right leg up and snapped his foot and the end of the movement. His second target's head shot back with force as his foot connect with the bottom part of his jaw. Kevin smiled as he slumped to the ground.

His eyes darted towards his friend as he watched him block two more punches with a smile on his face, then snarled in anger as he sent a powerful blow just below his enemy's eye socket. "That's for the Grandma remark shithead!"

"I put two down and you just finished with yours?"

"What, I needed the workout," Adam replied as he watched Kevin reach down and grab a handful of the leaders hair.

Kevin lifted the young man's head up and smiled down at him as he both grimaced from the pain in the top of his head and gasped to catch a breath. "Don't say we didn't warn you stupid."

"That -- ugh -- wasn't worth -- ugh -- two hundred dollars -- ugh," the man said as he tried hard to find air.

Kevin's face turned to one of disbelief as he heard the leader's statement. "You mean someone paid you to pick a fight with us? Who was it, what did he look like?"

"Some chick -- said she was -- your ex-wife -- ugh. Wanted to -- ugh -- make you bleed."

Kevin pulled his hair even harder as Adam knelt down next to him. "My friend here is going to pull your hair out at the roots. What did she look like?"

The man moaned in pain as Kevin pulled his hair even harder. "Awww, dude I don't -- ugh -- remember; some blond chick."

Kevin shoved the man down and scanned the area for a blond female. He knew who ever it was that set this up would be watching the outcome. The problem he discovered in a hurry was they were at Virginia Beach and every other female on the boardwalk was a blonde.

**********

Eduardo leaned against the railing and knew he was downwind from the young werewolf they were tracking. He turned his tanned sculpted face towards his other council member and smiled at her cunning techniques. "Nice job Candrea, setting that up prior to us getting here was brilliant."

Candrea watched the whole scene with rapt interest. "I agree it was good timing, the only problem is -- I didn't set it up."

**********

The Ferris wheel operator pulled the brake lever and let the two teenagers hop out with smiles on their young faces. As he checked the now empty car for any items left behind, he took his time to allow the other riders take in the view of the boardwalk from a high vantage point.

He slammed the door shut and released the brake. As the tall wheel began its slow rotation, a stunning blond haired woman looked down from the upper most car. Her gaze shifted from the man she had wanted to study further, to that of the two innocent bystanders appearing to study the tall hotel in front of them.

She smiled to herself when she noticed the blond female member of the council get a concerned look on her face. As the car rotated down, she reached over and squeezed the leg of the young beach goer who rode in the car with her. She could feel his youthful energy coursing through his veins and then noticed the hunger that was rising within her.

When the young man felt the small sign of affection, he smiled and placed his arm around the blond woman's shoulder. "So what do you say after this, you and I go someplace for a drink?"

The car again slowed to a stop as she moved towards him. "I was thinking more about saving some money. I have a nice stock of liquor in my hotel room. Would you think I was too forward if I asked you to accompany me to my room?"

"Not at all, I like it when a woman isn't afraid to say what she thinks Nadia."

Looks like Kevin and the gang are in the shit again. Thanks for reading the first chapter and as always, comments and votes are always welcome. Chapter two will be out shortly so I won't make you wait too long.



The Chosen One



Yolanda McCarter followed her colleague, Lauren Matthews, to the registration booth to get their credentials and packet. You know, the standard packet distributed at every convention that lists the agenda and itinerary of the events and meetings for the next few days. At each convention, there are more needless breaks scheduled than during the Super Bowl, strategically designed to draw out the convention itself. 

Truth be told, the agenda was such that it could have easily been completed in one day, but this was just a reason for the conventioneers to spend another night on the road, to have "cocktail receptions" and "annual award dinners', and any other miscellaneous excuse for the participants to be away from the families for a night or two of drinking and a hotel stay, with whatever other shenanigans ensued. All in the name of company bonding and networking, of course.

What happens at convention, stays at convention, Yolanda's friend and mentor Lauren had informed her on their flight in from Philadelphia to the home office in Charlotte. Nonetheless, Yolanda was excited to be at the first convention of her new company, one of the largest shopping center developers in the country.

Yolanda flipped through the contents of the welcome folder waiting for Lauren to finish the check-in process. The two made a striking pair, and had already attracted the attention of a fair amount of the male convention goers, scattered around the lobby like upperclassmen on move-in day at a college dorm, ogling the newbies.

Lauren was a bit of a veteran to this experience by now, this being her sixth year with the company. She had recently been promoted to Regional Marketing Director and had hired Yolanda a few months ago to fill the vacancy that Lauren's promotion created. As such, Lauren was not only Yolanda's boss but also her self-appointed mentor. Yolanda was the new Marketing Manager of Liberty Run Mall, a large enclosed mall in the western suburbs of the City of Brotherly Love.

Lauren had just turned thirty a few months ago, coinciding almost to the day with both her promotion and the her fourth wedding anniversary. She maintained the figure and youthful All-American looks of a cheerleader, which she had been at the University of Iowa. 

Her golden blonde hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail, and despite being dressed conservatively today in a light peach sweater and black linen slacks to try to dissuade any advances, her 36D breasts were always the focus of most men. Lauren was just over five feet tall in heels, so she did her best not to wear anything that would give taller men the ability to have instant cleavage shots just by standing next to her.

As Lauren affixed the name badge to her sweater, she joked to her new hire that men rarely forgot her name when she put her name badge on because they never lifted their eyes from her chest, and couldn't help but to have the "Hello, my name is Lauren" image emblazoned in their minds.

For her part, Yolanda was envious of her boss' impressive endowment, but she had no reason to be. None at all. Yolanda stood about eight inches taller than Lauren, and had the long, lean torso of a former track and field star, which she was at the University of Pennsylvania a few years ago.

Yolanda's own breasts, which stood proudly and perkily beneath her silk blouse, were accurately described as "perfect" by one of the two older men standing in the corner, admiring the new addition to the company.

"Damn, who the hell is she?" asked the tall, silver-haired man to his companion, popping a breath mint into his mouth.

"The tall black chick?" asked the stockier man. "Or, I should say, the brown chick?" he added, referring to Yolanda's light almond-colored skin. "Lauren hired her to fill her position at Liberty Run. I saw her photo in the company news letter. You really should read those once in a while, you know. I think her name is Yvonne, something.....no, no, Yolanda, that's it. Waddya think, 34C's?"

The silver fox, in his late forties, nodded slowly, his eyes running up and down Yolanda's frame. "I haven't gotten up that far to do a proper calculation yet. I can't get my eyes off of that ass. Christ, now THAT is perfect."

"Well, John," Mr. Stocky said, patting the Chief Operating officer on the shoulder. "Looks like we have an early contender for your initiation party this year. Have fun," he said, chuckling as he moved on to greet one of his incoming vice presidents, arriving into the lobby. "Tell me the good stuff, as always. And be careful out there."

John Devlin winked as the Chief Financial Officer, Ross Turner, grinned lecherously as he walked away. Ross was well aware of his long-time buddy and fellow board member's well-deserved reputation with the ladies, especially the young ones, earning him the nicknames of Johnny Devil and Johnny the Javelin, the latter referring to both the alleged length of Devlin's legendary endowment and his propensity to throw it around with precision.

In fact, if it wasn't for the fact that Devlin had started banging the former VP of Human Resources after the most recent sexual harassment claim against him, he probably would have been given his walking papers. As it was, instead the HR woman soon after "resigned to pursue other interests and spend more time with her family" and the harassment claim was quickly and quietly settled for a small six-figure sum. Peanuts, really, pocket change.

You see, John Devlin, through a variety of shrewd leasing negotiations with various national retailers was worth millions of dollars each year to the Chairman, Greg Herbert, who was well aware of his COO's dalliances, but protected him with a paternal ferocity. There was a running joke within the higher-ups that even if Devlin were caught fucking a cow on the company's main conference table, Herbert would rationalize it by saying, "Well, see now, John sure knows his beef."

Devlin munched on his breath mint and made a short detour to the event director for tonight's award dinner before approaching Lauren and Yolanda. Yolanda wore a tasteful charcoal-grey business skirt that was cut stylishly short enough to more than adequately display her long legs. She shifted on her heels as she watched the handsome man approach, the sinewy muscles in her calves flexing as she moved slightly. The action did not go unnoticed by Devlin. Nothing ever did. He was an "attention to detail" fanatic.

Devlin went right up to Lauren, extending his hand. If he had learned nothing else from the numerous sexual harassment training classes he had been required to take, it was not to hug or peck on the cheek in public. Touching was prohibited. He smiled inwardly at the sweet irony. 

"Lauren, how good to see you again. Congratulations on your promotion. I've been meaning to e-mail you. Shame on me. How was your flight in?"

Yolanda noticed the tight smile on her boss' normally very friendly face. "Hello, John," Lauren said, quickly shaking his hand and then withdrawing it. "Thank you. And our flight was fine. The notorious Philly airport was right on time, for once."

Lauren almost grimaced inwardly as she motioned to her replacement and made the introductions between Yolanda and the COO. Perhaps she should have forewarned Yolanda, but Devlin moved in even more quickly than usual. Besides, Lauren thought to herself, maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't be interested in Yolanda. Maybe a pretty African-American woman wasn't Devlin's cup of tea.

In reality, Devlin was a believer in equal opportunity for all. "No discrimination here," he thought to himself as he took Yolanda's hand warmly. "I'd love to bang this hot mocha piece of ass. I haven't had some light chocolate in forever."

They made small talk for a bit, Devlin peppering the young beauty with questions. Yolanda was taken by the charm of this handsome and obviously important man in the company. And besides, what young woman doesn't like talking about herself, especially when it was an older and successful man doing the inquisition.

"I don't know if Lauren told you about the tradition we have for incoming Marketing Directors at Liberty Run," Devlin said with a twinkle in his eye.

"Uh, no sir, no she didn't," Yolanda said, intrigued. "What tradition would that be?" She turned to her boss, who resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

Devlin saw the distaste on Lauren's face and worked quickly to get Yolanda's attention back squarely on him. "Well, Miss McCarter....it IS Miss, isn't it?" he smiled coyly at Yolanda, who felt her stomach flutter with butterflies as she nodded. "It's a tradition that started with Lauren herself, actually, when she began here, what was it, Lauren, three years ago? Four?"

"Six, actually, John. I've been married for four years now, so I remember exactly." Lauren's lips tightened as she clipped her words.

"Ah, yes, six. Time flies, doesn't it? I'd forgotten how long you've been married now." Devlin gave her his best charmingly condescending grin, turning his charm back to the sexy young Yolanda. 

"Anyway, MISS McCarter, the marketing director at Liberty Run is cordially invited to sit at my table for tonight's award dinner. Consider it an appropriate welcome to the organization, and you can tell me all about your plans for our gorgeous mall in Philly. In fact, I'm long overdue for a visit there. I'll make a note to arrange that very soon."

Lauren knew what was transpiring. She had lived through it first-hand. She was a bit surprised, but perhaps she shouldn't have been, Lauren thought to herself. She hastily interjected, "John, would you please excuse Yolanda and myself. I want to introduce her around and we also have to check in to our rooms."

Devlin gave that smile to the ladies that Lauren recognized as insincere, but Yolanda, still blissfully unaware of his intentions and background, found engaging. Yolanda was more than used to being charmed by men, but the charismatic banter of the dashing COO had made its impression. Devlin excused himself, looking Yolanda deeply in her fetching light green-brown eyes. "I look forward to learning more about you, Yolanda. Until tonight."

"Wow," Yolanda said to her mentor, watching Devlin greet another group of employees. "He's so nice. And gorgeous, too. Ya know, for an old guy." Yolanda giggled and turned to Lauren, expecting her reinforcement.

Instead, Lauren shook her head at Yolanda. "Oh, my God, I should have known. I should have known, God, he never changes. Just another year, another new toy. You're this year's mark. You're 'The Chosen One', Yolanda. I should have prepped you for this."

Yolanda's pretty face scrunched up in confusion. "What do you mean, the chosen one?"

Just then a group of women approached Lauren, squealing, and Lauren disappeared into a big group hug with her counterparts from other parts of the country. "I'll tell you later," Lauren said, squeezed by her co-workers and friends. "You need to know."

As things turned out, Yolanda and Lauren got separated and Yolanda had to check-in to her room on her own. That was fine with Yolanda, she wanted some time to relax and prep herself before her first company function tonight. 

Meanwhile, Ross Turner sidled up to his friend before Devlin returned to his own room to shower and change into his suit for tonight's dinner and awards ceremony, which he was essentially hosting as the primary figurehead for the company.

"You hit the jackpot again, you bastard," Turner told the COO in the elevator lobby. "She likes white guys. And, apparently, older white guys, too."

Devlin gazed at his co-conspirator. Turner himself did not chase the pussy, but he sure enjoyed living vicariously through his long-time friend's many conquests. And Turner did his best to encourage the activities, it seemed.

"Just how the fuck do you know that, Ross? Clairvoyant? Or wishful thinking?" Devlin asked his CFO, who could always be counted on for digging up the dirt on anyone. Not that this information ultimately mattered to Devlin. Once he set his sights on a target, as he had with Yolanda, it didn't matter to Devlin if the woman preferred one-armed Filipino midgets. He was going to bed them regardless. Yet, Turner's revelation had peaked his curiosity.

Turner seemed to take pride in his ability to get data that no one else could discover. It was partially why he achieved his lofty position in the company to begin with. He wasn't particularly talented for a senior executive, so being a snake and a snitch was a valuable survival tool.

"I called up Brian Mahoney, the regional security manager. He knows everything about everybody, the prick. He's also a little pervert. Anyway, Mahoney told me that Yolanda dates some rich lawyer from Philly who's about ten years older than her. But before that, she dated one of her professors at Penn. Some guy who was even older than that, maybe fifteen years more than her." 

Turner chewed on a gnarled fingernail. "Mahoney's info is usually very reliable, that sneaky little shit. Plus, it gets better. It seems that our new little brown beauty is a big fan of reading erotica. He hacked into her laptop and accessed her history, and the stories she likes best are black women getting fucked by white guys."

Devlin shook his head, smiling incredulously. If Turner had any ambition at all, he'd be head of the National Security Agency. "Hmmm, Mahoney's probably due for a performance bonus, isn't he, Ross? Make sure he gets taken care of, OK?"

I hope Mahoney never hacks my laptop, Devlin thought, popping a breath mint.

*******************

Yolanda stood in front of the mirror after emerging from her pre-dinner shower, admiring her own body. She caressed her firm, upturned chocolate breasts, the approximate shape and size of small coconuts, with a slightly darker hue, yet oh, so much softer. Her darker nipples and oversized areolas were in marked contrast to her lighter skin, the nipples protruding like Hershey kisses candies on two bowls of coffee ice cream.

She ran the tip of her thumb and index finger over each nipple, pulling, pinching lightly, causing the nubs to tighten and protrude. With her other hand, she slid her palm down her flat stomach, and twirled the middle finger of her other hand into the tightly trimmed tangle of pubic hair just above her fleshy mound. She turned sideways to view her profile, and looked at the tight, somewhat tiny buttocks that stuck out from below the cleft in the small of her back. Her cheeks rose back upward in that direction, essentially defying gravity. 

She thanked her maternal grandmother, a striking brunette, a white woman who married a black man, which was scandalous back in the day, for the DNA that provided this genetic aberration. Her ass was what not at all what one would call the prototypical black woman's bubble butt, which was a stereotype built not so much on racial shallowness but mainly on visual evidence. 

No, Yolanda's sublime derriere was like the rest of her body. Sleek, shapely, and tight. She considered it her best feature, and secretly loved for her buttocks to be appreciated by a man's knowing fingers, tongue, and, well, other appendage, if the right situation presented itself. 

Her current lover shied away from such anal play, so Yolanda did not encourage it. They had indulged in attempts once or twice, but Brad clearly wasn't comfortable or experienced enough to be anything but clumsy. Funny, Brad was a seasoned and extremely successful trial lawyer in the courtroom, but his confidence shriveled like a grape when faced with the specter of penetrating Yolanda's puckered star.

Pity, Yolanda mused. What a waste. If only people knew the secret desires of this classy, dignified, beautiful young African-American beauty. She could be such a slut for the right man. 

Only one man, her former professor and older lover, had unlocked the mysterious vault that contained Yolanda's rampant libido. It was such a shame when his wife discovered their three-year affair, which ended things when the wife threatened her husband with financial ruin and family humiliation, if not public castration. 

Oh, well, Yolanda sighed, c'est la vie. Brad would do for the time being. He would be partner within a year, and well, Yolanda had pretty much repressed most of her sexual wants and needs in lieu of comfort and stability while she focused on her own promising career.

Most of them.

Yolanda's taste in lingerie was exquisite. She wore only the finest and most elegant intimate apparel, even on the most ordinary of days. It wasn't difficult for her to decide on this evening's choice, a lavender bra and garter belt, complete with sheer silk stockings and the tiniest of G-strings that was so snug it literally disappeared into the folds of her generous labia.

She slipped on a deep purple cocktail dress that was tasteful, but hugged her curves like a second skin. The wardrobe was accentuated by three-inch periwinkle pumps. 

A blossoming purple orchid, she thought, looking at herself one last time in the mirror before she closed the door and headed for the cocktail hour.

Purple rain, John Devlin thought when he saw her. Yum. Hot damn, what a fucking luscious body. All through cocktail hour, he stole glances at her, not wanting to be overtly obvious. After all, it was obvious enough to everyone but Yolanda as to his intentions when she found her seating assignment to be just to John's right.

It was all he could do at the dinner table to maintain his decorum and not fondle her right then and there, but he did so, helped exponentially by his frequent visits to the podium to present awards and make the rah-rah motivation speeches, including detailing the company's strategic plans for the upcoming fiscal year.

In between, John surreptitiously made sure that Yolanda's wine goblet was always filled. At the very end of the dinner, just before the event adjourned, Yolanda was surprised to find a hotel key card being slipped into her hand by the COO. She looked down to make sure it was what she thought it was.

John glanced at her sideways, not wanting to attract attention. "Please join me in my suite in a half-hour, Miss McCarter," he said softly. "Room 1412. I have a wonderful cabernet on ice and we can spend some private time to get to learn more about each other." 

He rose, letting his finger slide up her thigh to where the stocking ended and her skin began, feeling the strap of the hook held the stockings in place. He smiled. Just as he thought. Garters. His favorite.

Slightly drunk, and more than a little panicked, Yolanda looked around frantically to find Lauren. She hadn't had a chance to talk to Lauren since her mysterious comment earlier.

Yolanda found her friend by the bar in the huge ballroom. The bartenders were taking last call before most of the crowd would end up in the hotel bar on the floor below. Lauren was waiting to order when Yolanda literally pulled her aside from the thirsty and mostly intoxicated fellow employees in line to cop one last free drink.

"Lauren, look. Look!" Yolanda glanced around nervously and opened her palm to show Lauren the key card. "John Devlin gave me this. He wants me to come to his suite in a half-hour. What should I do?"

Lauren brought the straw from her gin and tonic to her lips, which curled into a knowing grin. "Ah, yes. The Chosen One. You're this year's Chosen One, Yolanda. Why are you surprised? Did you think just anyone gets to sit with him? Do you think he picked you at random?"

"Chosen One?" Yolanda's face contorted. "What does that mean, Chosen One? I asked you before. Just what the hell does that mean, Lauren?"

Lauren steered her younger friend further away from the masses. They found a reasonably secluded section of the now rapidly emptying ballroom.

"Every year, almost like a tradition now, at least in Devlin's mind, he picks a new female employee who he finds attractive to, well, uh, give a private welcome to the company. Apparently, it's been going on for at least six years now, that I know of."




The Chosen One



"How do you know this, Lauren? And why didn't you tell me?"

Lauren sighed, apologizing. "I didn't think you would be his type, Yolanda. I still didn't believe it at first, even when he arranged that you'd sit with him. But that was silly of me, in hindsight. You're by far the most gorgeous woman here. I just didn't think......" Lauren's voice trailed off.

"....That he'd choose a black girl?" Yolanda finished Lauren's sentence for her.

"Well, yeah. Nothing against you, Yolanda," Lauren added quickly. "I just always took Devlin for the ultimate sexist pig, so I guess I just assumed he'd be racist, too."

"How do you know about all this, Lauren?" Yolanda asked, gripping her mentor by the elbow. "Tell me."

Lauren looked at her with a look of embarrassment, blushing, lowering her head. "Because I was "The Chosen One" six years ago, Yolanda."

Yolanda lifted her palm to her face, and despite herself, tried to hide a giggle. "Oh my God, Lauren, you? Oh, God. Not in a million years would I have thought......." 

Lauren nodded bashfully. "Yep. Hey, I was new, young, dumb, and drunk. Just like you, Yolanda, no disrespect with the "dumb" comment, but geez, did you not have ANY idea? C'mon. By the way, how drunk are you, anyway?"

"Pretty drunk," Yolanda admitted. There was an awkward few seconds of silence before Yolanda asked for more direction. "Should I do it? Should I go up? What are the consequences if I don't?"

Lauren eyed Yolanda earnestly. "Well, being very candid, the last Chosen One to refuse a few years ago, some bubble-headed bitch from Frisco that thought she was God's gift, well, let's just say they found a reason to "downsize" her position shortly thereafter. They outsourced her responsibilities for a year and then re-hired someone else twelve months later. All very legal. No fuss, no muss, no real cause or evidence for a lawsuit."

Yolanda was absorbing all of this as Lauren went on. "So, professionally, it would be like signing a death certificate, at least in this company. Greg Herbert protects Devlin at all costs."

Lauren added one more thing for Yolanda to consider. "Do you think it was coincidence that I was promoted? Virtually all of the other regional marketing managers have been The Chosen One at one time or another. Rumor has it that Lisa Quinn was the first."

"Lisa Quinn, the senior VP of marketing?" Yolanda asked. Lisa Quinn was the highest-ranked woman executive in the company, a tall, striking blonde in her mid-forties.

"The one and only. She was a catalog model and an actress in a local playhouse before she joined the company here, so do you think she's there on merit, because of her experience or industry knowledge? Please....."

Yolanda's shoulders sagged. "Shit. What do I do, Lauren? What do I do?"

"Well, you know me, girlfriend, I always give it to ya straight. So, let me give you one other thing to think about." Lauren leaned in closer to her subordinate. "Devlin may be a arrogant fuck, but he's hung like the proverbial anaconda. I haven't had too many, but I've had enough to know that I've never seen one like that." Lauren's eyes went to the distance momentarily. "Not even a close second."

Yolanda was already staring to become aware that she was slowly feeling her body react the longer this conversation went on, especially with the revelation that her own boss once fucked the Chief Operating Officer and could provide a first-hand account of what to expect. But this disclosure caused a full-fledged gush of humidity into her G-string. "Really?"

Lauren still stared at an unknown image towards the ceiling, quietly reminiscing. "Oh, yeah. Huge doesn't describe it. And the stamina of a war horse, too. The best fuck ever, that's for sure. And the good thing is, once he's had you once, maybe twice, he moves to his next victim and you're forever branded with a positive recommendation. He gets bored, I guess, always looking for a new deal."

For the first time, Yolanda's responsive nipples were visible beneath the material of her dress. This did not go unnoticed by Lauren. "By the looks of things, girl, I'd say you are becoming more receptive to the concept. Remember, what happens at convention....."

Yolanda finished Lauren's sentence again. "...stays at convention!" The women co-conspirators now, giggled and fist bumped.

"C'mon," Lauren said, taking Yolanda by the hand. "Let me get you a shot or two to relieve the anxiety. It won't be the worst night of your life, I'll tell you that. Oh, but one last thing...."

"Is it bad? Tell me it's not bad."

Lauren coaxed two last gin gimlets out of the bartender by all but flashing her big tits at the man for incentive. They clinked glasses as a toast, guzzled the shot, and then Lauren dropped the other shoe.

"Is it bad? Well, I suppose that's how you feel about such things. You see, um, Devlin's sort of an ass freak."

Yolanda was hoping this was what she thought it could be. "What do you mean, he's an ass freak?"

"He's going to spend a lot of time on your, um, hind quarters. Fingers, tongue, he's into anal play. I let him go that far, he licked me, fingered me, ate my ass. But then he wanted to stick that big fucking monster of his in my poop chute, and that's where I drew the line. Hell, if I said yes to that, I might have Lisa Quinn's job today. But I was afraid I'd never be able to sit down again."

Lauren gave her friend a hug. "Good luck, girl. And I want details in the A.M. Well, not all the details, maybe. And, don't worry, it's in the vault. It's convention time, right? Have fun."

*****************

Yolanda hesitated outside of Room 1412 before slipping the keycard into the slot. She could play this one of two ways, she figured. She could be submissive and acquiesce willingly to each of Devlin's demands. That would be easiest, just to get it over with.

Or she could play it another way. Be the aggressor. Try to assert a level of control so that things wouldn't get out of hand, and possibly, just possibly, maximize both her sexual pleasure and her career ascent. After all, Devlin wanted to fuck her a lot more than she wanted to fuck Devlin. Although the prospect was becoming more enticing with each tremble deep within her cunt.

She took a deep breath. Risk, reward, she said to herself. Why not? She was just intoxicated enough to think the latter was a good plan.

Devlin had his back to her when she walked in tentatively, her heart racing, but her pussy damp. He was looking out of the window at the cityscape, or at least pretending to do so. In fact, he was watching her reflection in the plate glass. He immediately became half-erect. Her scent filled the suite. There was the unmistakable aroma of female desire mixed with the perfume, lotions, and alcohol.

"You're a few minutes late, Miss McCarter," he said, turning towards her. "I was beginning to think that you had chosen not to take me up on my invitation. That would have disappointed me."

Yolanda smiled at the man. She couldn't help but agree that he was very handsome. Well-preserved for a man in his late forties. He no doubt used his good looks and charm to get ahead in the business world, much like a beautiful woman would, yet with different methods perhaps. It really wasn't the worst thing in the world, Yolanda reasoned in her liquor-induced mindset. 

"I was just enjoying another cocktail to two. I certainly had no intention of disappointing you. And, please, I appreciate the formality, but, please, don't call me Miss McCarter anymore. John......." She called him by his first name consciously, to set the tone that they were now equals on this private playing field, where the competitors would try to outdo the other.

He grinned at her spunkiness. She must be very drunk, he thought. He liked drunk. Spunkiness, not so much. He wasn't patient enough for spunkiness.

"Turn sideways, Yolanda, I haven't gotten a very good look at that lovely dress from the side." She made a ninety-degree turn, hands on hips.

He sighed heavily. "Yolanda, if you'll kindly accept this compliment, you just might have the nicest ass I have ever seen."

She stuck her plump lower lip out in a mock pout. "Just....'might have', John? You mean, I have a potential peer?" She asked teasingly.

Devlin smacked his lips unwittingly. "Well, of course, I haven't really seen it. Nor explored it. Yet."

Yolanda walked towards the man, closing in on him in front of the window. 'Well, I'm sure you'll render your verdict soon enough then." She surprised the powerful executive by pressing her body to his and placing her full lips right on his, kissing him passionately. She placed her long, wet tongue into his mouth and slowly began to run it around the inside of his own warm mouth, sucking on his tongue, lightly biting on his lower lip.

He moaned into her mouth, legitimately astonished at this brazen show of wanton lust by the young vixen. She released her lips from his when he started to caress her legs and tried to ease his hand up the back of her dress. "You know, John," she whispered huskily, breathing into his ear. "I was going to invite you to my room. What a fortuitous coincidence that you asked me first."

She kissed the older man again, hotly. His hands pulled her at her slender hips and pulled her closer. She looked at him with those cat-like eyes when she ended this hungry liplock after perhaps twenty seconds of escalating heat. "You just beat me to it." She glanced over her shoulder, nodding towards the oversized bed which took up most of the bedroom area in this suite. "And we have a much bigger playground that we would have in my room. Very nice."

She walked away from Devlin and towards the bed, patting it, making a show of bending over to display her ass. Devlin's massive cock was almost at full salute now in his suitpants.

"Great minds think alike then, Yolanda. Tell me," he said, taking the bait. "....do you make a habit of making such invitations to men that you've just met?"

"Oh, I don't have many habits, John. I would call it more spontaneous. Is that so bad?" She smiled at him seductively. "Would you mind if I went into the bathroom for a moment. I may want to rid myself of this dress. Wouldn't want to wrinkle it, you know." Her eyes twinkled as she licked her lips.

"Please, be my guest. There is a plush robe on the hanger on the back of the door. Feel free to use the robe if you like and hang your dress on that hanger." He gestured towards the bathroom.

She walked slowly away from him, purposefully sashaying her hips. "Christ," Devlin thought, reaching onto the nightstand for a breath mint as the bathroom door closed. "Have I hit the fucking jackpot with this slut. What a wildcat. Good thing I took that Cialis. This might be the first time I really need one."

Devlin started to remove his own clothing and was just beginning to slide his pants down his legs when Yolanda emerged from the bathroom. She wasn't in there very long, he thought, looking up from the chair in which he had sat down to undress.

Before him stood a vision of unimaginable chocolate delight with her light skin, bewitching eyes, and full boobs tapering down to a flat tummy. And, of course, that ass.....

Yolanda let the straps of her bra hang loosely down over her arms, so that the tops of her dark brown areolas were half-exposed. The bra was literally being held up by her erect nipples, which served as impromptu garment hangers. The snug lavender G-string was essentially being swallowed by her swollen labia, and she had already undid the snaps that held the garters to the stockings so that they dangled on her lean thighs. The gap between her legs and her vagina, yes, "THE gap", was at least two inches. She had kept those periwinkle heels on, too, for the proper effect.

She turned her back to him as he began to stroke his cock through his boxers. She unsnapped the back hooks of her bra and tossed it on the floor. She turned back around, her arms crossed over her breasts to tease, and she ever so slowly let one hand drop down to expose her left tit, and she lifted it with her hand, brought it towards her mouth, lowered her chin, and began to lick the huge nipple with her tongue.

"Sssshhhhiiiitttt," Devlin hissed softly, the letters escaping from his lips like a balloon losing air, truly in awe of this unexpected display of raw sexuality.

Devlin sat back in his chair, his legs spreading the way a man's do when they are sitting themselves down at a strip club. It's really the only socially accepted venue where a man can sit like that, when you think about it. His boxers tented to show the arousal that she had caused within his prodigious member.

"I wouldn't have had you as a boxer man, John," Yolanda said, watching his cock twitch within the confines of the plaid boxers while still licking her nipple lewdly. 

Devlin did not see the immediate need to explain that briefs were perpetually uncomfortable for a man of his size. More times than not, especially in casual settings, he went commando, but that would have been scandalous at work. He was already walking a precipitous tightrope with all of his extracurricular activities. He didn't need to walk around the boardroom with Uncle Willie dangling down to his knee.

Yolanda took the bow of the G-string that was on her right hip, untied it, and flashed her glistening pussy at Devlin, just for a second, before tying the string back on her hip. "Peek-a-boo," she said. "Now let me see you."

This was the moment that Devlin lived for, when he could see the look on a woman's face when they got a view of his cock for the first time. It reminded him of the look that his sixth-grade classmates would get thirty-five years earlier when he would show them the Playboy magazine he had pilfered from his older brother's collection. A look of mesmerized fascination, jaws dropping with spellbound reverence.

Despite her best efforts, this was the exact look that came over Yolanda's countenance when Devlin lowered the hem of his boxers to reveal his pride and joy in all its glory.

She gasped audibly. Yolanda had watched her share of porn with well-endowed white men (her favorite), yet this was ten times better. The first thing she noticed was the impossibly thick vein traversing along the shaft from the root until it disappeared into the mushroom cockhead. It was like the Colorado River winding through a granite valley.

It was also about as thick as one of those old-time retro Coca-Cola bottles, inches around at its widest circumference, and then tapering down to a tip that was just calling out to be sucked. Yolanda was by no means an expert in estimating penile measurements, but her tight vagina was once the recipient of a plump eight-inch dildo, and the dildo would have lost a one-on-one contest by at least a inch in length and girth.

She made a mental note to never again question anything that Lauren warned her about.

Devlin leered at her, delighted at the reaction that his massive cock had evoked. Again. He slapped his cock against his thigh lazily like a backyard cook slapping meat on the grill. The sound of the cock against the skin bounced off the walls of the hotel suite. His next words were unambiguous.

"Suck it," he ordered, like Caligula announcing the games to commence.

It took every fiber of Yolanda's self-control to resist. Against her better judgment, she held firm. "No."

"No?" The look of shock on Devlin's face was sincere. He didn't like the word to begin with, and couldn't remember ever hearing it in this particular context. Usually by this time, a woman was lapping on his shaft like a kitten with a milk bowl. He repeated the question, still making sure he had heard correctly. "No?"

Yolanda walked away from the man instead of towards him, another development that Devlin was unaccustomed to. She crawled up on the mattress and got on all fours, placed her buttocks up in the air, her legs hanging over the edge. "Maybe I should say, 'not yet'. I know that's the biggest cock I've ever seen, but you seemed unsure if this was the best ass you'd ever seen, and I think it's time you rendered an educated verdict, just to be sure."

She pulled her buttocks apart, and looked at Devlin with her head upside down, peering at him between her parted legs.

"Eat my ass, John. First things first."

With that bold dare, the balance of power had shifted unequivocally to Yolanda. It was a stroke of strategic genius that would have been the envy of any military general versed in psychological warfare.

Devlin hesitated for a few seconds, remaining in his chair, idly handling his cock as a baker would knead a wad of dough. Like any practiced negotiator, he was weighing what he truly wanted. Though he was used to getting everything in past forums such as this, he figured that this was just altering the normal cadence of events just a bit. He rose and shrugged his shoulders almost in a "what the hell" gesture, and sank to his knees on the floor behind Yolanda.

Yolanda moaned as the experienced man's tongue and lips explored both Yolanda's pussy and anus. Lauren was right on this tip, also. Devlin was a definite ass freak. He ran his tongue first up and down between Yolanda's slit and asshole, and then in and out, fucking both of her holes with a knowing touch. He was surprisingly gentle, and their mutual groans indicated that they were both deriving great pleasure from this exercise.

Yolanda was used to most men, Brad included, licking Yolanda's pussy as if they were trying to beat an expiring parking meter. It was just something to do feign loving attention. But Devlin, wow, Devlin was a true connoisseur of the elusive art of analingus.

Devlin inserted two fingers deep into Yolanda's cunt, which now dripped nectars all over Devlin's face. He then pushed upward to massage her upper vaginal walls, finding her spongy g-spot expertly, and flattened his tongue simultaneously into Yolanda's dark anal tunnel.

She exploded in a convulsive orgasm, her pussy spewing fluids liberally, soaking John's face, and her back door clamped down over Devlin's tongue, essentially holding it in place as she writhed, gripping the bedspread so that she wouldn't collapse and smother John's face.

Yolanda decided to roll the dice, pushing her luck. In for a dime......

She sneered over her shoulder at the COO, whose tongue was still buried in her anal channel, his fingers in her cunt. "That's it, you little asslicking bitch. Who's in control now, bitch boy? So, what's your vote? Best ass or not? Or do you need to taste more, you pussy."

A low rumble began deep within Devlin's throat and he roared into Yolanda's asshole, rimming her wildly while removing the fingers that were just in Yolanda's snatch and depositing them into her asshole, up to the second knuckles.

No woman had ever dared talked to him like this, and he was drunk with lust. Like a bully who changes his ways once stood up to, Devlin was lost in the mysterious mental manipulations of this woman more than twenty years his junior.

He was perpetually in control in business and with women, always. And now, tonight, Yolanda had transformed him into assuming a subservient role, being verbally abused, compliant to her orders. He was never more turned on.

Devlin had an epiphany right about this moment. It was tremendously refreshing to relinquish control to a woman who obviously relished anal play as much as he enjoyed dispensing it. Yolanda's attitude towards the conquest served to alter Devlin's own perspective full-circle. He went from getting off on domination to being excited about the true pleasure that he was providing to Yolanda. 

The young woman flipped over on her stomach, recovering from the aftershocks of the several orgasms that had electrocuted her body, and motioned for Devlin to rise. "Now," she said, looking up at him, licking her full lips. "Now it's time to suck this magnificent cock."




The Chosen One



Yolanda grabbed his shaft to lift it so she could suck on his testicles, the size of small lemons. She noticed that when she pressed his cock flat to his stomach that it extended a good inch above his belly button.

Devlin admired the view of Yolanda's pinkish-brown lips consuming the first several inches of his shaft, her mouth and jaw expanding, the outline of his massive cock head clearly visible within the membrane of her cheeks.

He bent forward slightly to give himself digital access to Yolanda's beckoning buttocks, which lifted in the air due to her body writhing and contorting as she attended to the task of getting as much of his cock into her hungry mouth as she could. 

She was in a horizontal dance, flopping around like a caught trout, moaning animatedly from the dual sensation of being mouth-fucked while he opened her anus again with his wet fingers.

Both of the unlikely partners' most vivid fantasies were occurring at once. Yolanda was servicing a handsome, sexually experienced and indescribably endowed white man while also being anally pleasured as she had never been.

The entire scenario was evolving into an unscripted symbiotic relationship, one where both parties benefit. And this was truly a most mutually beneficial coupling.

As Yolanda continued to enthusiastically swallow at least half of his shaft, Devlin was about as hard as he could ever remember, and he had been in more than his share of erotic encounters. But this was the most unexpected, which of course made it exponentially better. 

He wasn't ready to cum yet, far from it. His stamina was indeed legendary. But there comes a moment when, well, it's just time to fuck. And this was that moment.

He reached down and grabbed Yolanda by the hips and tossed her high in the air, flipping her like a spinning top. He caught her before she returned to the mattress, a maneuver that would have made any figure-skating duet proud. Still standing, he placed her directly on his dick, which provided quite an ample, yet less than soft, landing spot for Yolanda's gaping slit.

She came immediately when his cock entered her gash, stretching her cunt as never before. The sensation of being utterly filled by nine-plus inches of thick manhood was overwhelming, and her impassioned shrieks echoed off the walls of the hotel suite and she rocked repeatedly in carnal ecstasy as he roughly threw her up and down, up and down, on his colossal tool.

He sat down on the edge of the bed finally and turned Yolanda around so that she was in a reverse-cowgirl position, completely helpless, flopping around like an ebony Raggedy Ann doll.

"Put your arms back behind my neck," he said to Yolanda. "And hold on tight, darlin'." The calm in his voice astounded Yolanda. It was as if he were in a trance, a fucking machine, on autopilot. 

She didn't know what awaited her, but she was confident that he knew was he was doing. Even though this wasn't his first rodeo, Yolanda was more than willing to accept the role of his bucking bronco.

She did as directed, and the concentration required to perform such a contortion distracted Yolanda enough so that she didn't expect the intrusion into her sphincter as he stood up at the same time.

Devlin knew enough not to impale the woman's rectum with anything more than just a few inches, at least at first, and he also knew that by this position, essentially suspending Yolanda in space, he could control just how hard and deep he penetrated her backside.

He walked her over gingerly towards a full-length mirror on the wall over the dresser so that Yolanda would always have a vivid image of the spectacle. despite the searing pain combined with immense pleasure building in her anus, she looked in the mirror through the slits in her eyes, tearing up from the intense sensation of her mid-air assfucking.

She looked like a glider, she thought to herself, or a wingless bird soaring through a stormy gale. Her arms were stretched behind her at an awkward angle, and her full tits bounced frantically as he carried her and impaled her, in synchronized choreography being performed by a sexual maestro, the man rocking her world, literally and figuratively.

The last thing Yolanda remembered, as Devlin's hot seed flowed like lava into her anal passage as he powerfully erupted into her, was her own screeching as she exploded in a convulsing detonation.

When she came to, she found the older man holding her snugly in a spooning position, gazing at her with almost paternal tenderness. She felt safe and an emotional connection that comforted her.

"How long was I out of it?" she asked, gathering her wits, cognizant that she had passed out.

"About ten, fifteen minutes maybe," Devlin answered. "I was a little worried for a minute there. You were hyperventilating. But, um, I washed you up a bit, and did the same to myself. I had a few minutes to kill." He pointed to a washcloth and towel draped on the nightstand.

Yolanda felt the sweet burn of the aftermath of the magnificent anal plundering she had just received.

It had been far too long since she had felt the once-familiar sting that she always found so invigorating. A feeling that only a woman who genuinely enjoyed anal play would appreciate and enjoy. 

"I should get back to my room. I could use a little sleep," she said, shakily.

"Don't be silly. You're not going anywhere," Devlin replied, holding her even tighter. "Stay here tonight. How many times do you get to sleep in a suite with an old man?" He smiled at her, seemingly poking fun at himself.

Yolanda rolled over to kiss him on the chest. "If I stay here, I'm going to want to fuck you again, probably soon," Yolanda said.

"That would be OK," Devlin answered, grinning, cupping her breast. "So, about my pending trip to Philly. I suddenly think I've been remiss in my COO duties by not seeing the mall in quite awhile. If I extend my stay over a weekend, would you show me around the town?"

"No," Yolanda said, pressing her rear into Devlin's groin teasingly.

"No?"

"No. If you come, we're not leaving the hotel room all weekend."

Devlin smiled. "I guess I can forsake my sightseeing. I like your idea better. What's so fascinating about a cracked bell and a Rocky statue anyway?"

Yolanda rolled back over to face her new lover. 

"But, this can't be between a COO and an employee, a lowly marketing director. Our relationship, or whatever you want to call it, will just be between a man and a woman who want to explore each other's sexual boundaries and see where it goes. It's pretty clear we have some common ground that we need to cultivate further. Nothing at all to do with the company, though. Take it or leave it, that's the deal. Deal?"

Devlin pretended to contemplate the proposal. "Hmmm. Maybe we can find a happy medium for me somewhere between COO and ass-licking bitch," he said self-effacingly. "Shall we shake on it?"

Yolanda lowered her head beneath the sheet. "I have a better idea," she said. "How about we really consummate the deal?" She began to suck on Devlin's half-erect cock, quickly resuscitating it by kissing the thickening shaft, and she heard him emit a muffled moan.

She held Devlin's fabulously immense dick in her two hands under the sheets and admired it for a few seconds. She came up with an apt nickname of her own for it, stifling a giggle.

The Chosen One.