0 comments/ 18453 views/ 5 favorites Who's That Girl? By: kinpatsu I awoke to a slight sound, unknown in it's execution but enough to assure that I was no longer alone. My sleep fogged mind was jolted into awareness of this fact, and wondered at the strange bed I was laying on. Dimly, after a few moments, the memory of being showed to the room by Jerry late in the evening forced it's way into that awareness. I had removed my boots, and dropped my leather jacket and gloves on the floor next to them, but beyond that there was nothing. Exhaustion was what overcame me. Riding for more than sixteen hours tends to do that to a guy, even on the relatively smooth and motorcycle friendly roads that I had chosen. Oh, I had stopped now and again, but I had pushed the pace to get here before midnight. Almost 900 Kilometers since the last time I slept, and that in a dilapidated hotel of dubious quality. I slept with my SIG for a pillow there. How many hours had I slept? I checked with my capricious internal clock and guessed six, or maybe eight. It could have been three. With the curtains pulled and my eyes closed the room seemed as dark as it was when I collapsed. Without moving I stretched a bit to get the kinks out, and I found I was still dressed. I hadn't even managed to worm my way under the blankets. Who was in here? One of my arms habitually lay near my head, and I made an unobtrusive yet unsuccessful check under the pillow for my SIG. My fingers found only crumpled linen, not the deadly curve of polymer and steel. Sure this was a relatively safe place, but how had I forgotten to place my pistol there? Forcing my still stiff muscles to relax into something resembling readiness I risked gently opening my eyes. The room was dim, but not dark. Something prescient to daylight was filtering through the slightly curtained window, enough light to differentiate the contents of the bedroom and the unrecognized girl closing the door to the hallway. The hall itself was dark, and probably the rest of the house was still asleep. I seemed to recall that most of them were awake when Jerry led me stumblingly away from the gathering. Who was she? Probably she couldn't tell I was awake in the gloom. I could barely discern her either, but I could tell that she was probably shorter than I am and dressed in a short shift or a long shirt of come kind. It was vaguely pink in the dullness but could have been anything from white to red. Her hair was dark, and probably black since most of Jerry's relatives had the straight black hair so common in his Irish ancestors. It danced about her shoulders in a way that suggested it was only medium length as she placed a knee on the edge of my bed. Who is she? Jerry's daughter, or his sister? Probably one or the other, but there are so many of them. Why is she here? A brief thought that she's come in to check on me and perhaps throw a blanket over my prostrate form was interrupted. Without warning she jumped lightly onto the bed, pinning me to it. Her sudden movement brought her knee over and onto my shoulder, while her hands were placed on each of my thighs. Almost as fast her other knee landed on my opposite shoulder so that she sat inverted on top of me. I felt her feet cross behind my head. "OOOOMPHH!" was all I could say as I felt the hem of her garment fall about my ears. "Quiet, you!" she said in a soft but authoritative voice that was almost familiar. That voice was recognizable enough that the jungle defensiveness that I had awoke to retreated, even though I was now effectively trapped. It's not that I couldn't have escaped, but that to do so would have possibly hurt her. I decided to play it as dealt. My estimation of the time must have been more or less correct, because the light outside the window was rapidly growing. As a consequence the illumination of the room also increased and my companion's garment was revealed as a long pale pink t-shirt, and almost translucent. I found myself confronted with the barely visible underside of a woman. She wore no undergarments and even in the dimness I had a clear view of her cunt, it's fleshy lips extruded and bare. I could smell her clean arousal and see the slight glow of wetness coating the entrance. Down deep below I felt my own reactions begin like the twitching of a small animal. She knew exactly what it was that she was doing, and there could be no mistake on my part what she wanted. For a few seconds I studied her closely. There was a kind of joy to simply observe the tight folds and inviting slit hovering over me. It took little imagination to see them parted by the head of my cock and watch them dilate as it slid gently inside. Already the slit was separating invitingly, welcoming, and in anticipation of the game between us. I decided it wasn't any pussy I had seen before, but in spite of my exhausted state I no longer cared who it was. I don't think I've turned down a freely offered piece of tail in my life. Glancing down towards my feet I could just see up her shirt where her slight breasts were hanging marble tipped, and below them I caught a glimpse of her features. Upside down her pixie face grinned at me, then she slowly brought her hips and cunt down to my waiting lips. My world was filled with a fresh woman scent as she stopped just millimeters from my nose. She was close enough that I could no longer see clearly, but that no longer mattered. I reached out with my tongue, lightly brushing pussy lips enough to taste her growing sweet spot and get my bearings. Everything was clean and smooth, trimmed to perfection. No hair or other unpleasantness distracted me, only her sweet and salty sex. Shivering at my breath as much as my touch she backed ever so slightly away, but not in hesitation. A moment later she let me touch my tongue to it again to find the wetness had grown noticeably. Although my shoulders were pinned to the mattress and her arms held my thighs equally imprisoned, my own arms from the elbow down were free. I reached up gently, hoping to touch the pretty cherry nipples I had caught so brief sight of. She saw what I was doing and without concern shifted her hands from my thighs to my wrists, stopping me in the act. "Get on with it," she commanded again softly. There was little to be said to that, so I returned to the pleasant task in front of me. Again I licked her now soaked pussy lightly up and down, beginning and ending on her tight little clit. Each time I touched it she hissingly sucked air between her teeth. "Yes," she murmured much more quietly but with no less authority, "Now you're getting the idea." I stopped with my lips parted and waited, the tip of my tongue placed centrally and loosely inside her slit. Predictably she moved her excellent cunt down until it pressed against my lips, and my tongue slid gently up inside the well lubricated passage. "Hmmm," was her accompanied comment, "that's another good idea." Trickles of her sweetness ran down as I encircled her lips with my mouth and lightly sucked. The girl's reaction was to press herself down more firmly against my face and grind herself up and down on my active lips. Happy sighs and muffled sounds of contentment worked down to me busy between her thighs. Down below my ready prick was constrained by tight leather, so useful for it's intended purpose yet so frustrating in this situation. There was an ache in it to be touched that approached pain. Probably she couldn't see it through the thick material and padding of my riding pants, but surely she knew what her actions were doing to me. She seemed uncaring or understandably distracted, but such was my situation that I would be damned before I would ask for her assistance in that regard. Fuck it, if I had to whack off after she left me I wouldn't give her the satisfaction of pleading. Instead I continued to lap gently while she moved her hips around, positioning my tongue for her maximum benefit. It was a curious battle for control, where I as a willing instrument could deny that which I wished to do, and she who could direct me to do what I was going to do anyway. My lips met, and retreated from the battleground of her labia, only to do it again while I eagerly accepted the liqueur she dropped down to me as payment for my efforts. Words lost their meaning. Her ever accelerating breath and the contented sighs that came out with it were proof I was doing right. Something resembling pride, but what could also have been vindictiveness set in. Instead of slowing to coerce her to release my own mounting frustration I stimulated her more rapidly and focused my attentions on her clit. If I could I determined to make her cum, although it was clear that this wouldn't be any real difficulty. My efforts were rewarded with even faster and deeper breath. Perhaps a second sense, or just an awareness of the right rhythm caused me to switch techniques. Abruptly I removed the contact between my mouth and her sweet lips, but maintained a rhythmic tongue motion on her swelling clit. A quick intake of breath followed by by an exaggerated exhaled "...yes..." accompanied the sudden motionless of her body. Encouraged, I gave all my attention to that sensitive organ. For a few timeless moments only the occasional twitch in her body reminded me that I was still on the right track, until a general stiffness indicated something was accomplished. First the lager muscles in her thighs on either side of my head lost their velvet softness, becoming in a moment rigid and quivering without gaining solidity. Her fingers dug into my wrists like claws while her feet tightened around the back of my head, pressing her awakened pussy once more tenderly into my mouth. Wordless her breath escaped in a long staccato release of pants as the rest of her body convulsed, until her arms lost their strength. She fell forward, embracing my legs and pulling herself down from my face, shivering in the cool air of the bedroom. I took the respite to breath more easily and bring my released arms up and around her delicate waist. Softly I caressed her ass, and ran my hands up under her shirt to the small of her back and the tempting curve of her sides. Each of my touches brought a wiggle, or a twitch of echoed orgasm. In slow lethargic stages she found the most comfortable place in her position and relaxed in my arms. "That was lovely, Simon," she said to my knees. From our orientation I couldn't see her face, but her voice reached me breathless and dreamy. "I suppose you want to fuck me now?" she asked as a punctuation mark to her first comment. Of course I did, but I wouldn't let her know that. "I'd much rather know just who the hell you are." I continued to stroke her body. It was a pleasant task in it's own right, though one that I should have avoided in the tact I was taking. The soft pressure of her modest weight on my torso and the erection below made it impossible for me to rebuff her. "Any fucking to be done can be negotiated later." In a single fluid movement she rolled off to sit upright on the bed next to me, an altogether delightful operation to observe. I had to admire her flowing muscles and huntress grace. Then I saw the look of indignation crossed with distress coloring her features in the morning sunlight. "You don't remember me?" she asked, incredulous. Then she turned thoughtful, and spoke almost as if to herself, "Well, I suppose I have changed a lot. I'm twenty-two now. That's a hint." From shining eyes, to the bare shoulder where her shirt had slipped down, to the tangle of shapely legs that poured out from under that same sleeping garment, I examined every part of her that I could see. Some familiarity was there, as if I had known her in a dream. And yet, I couldn't bring her name or lovely face up from the depths of my memory. "If you've changed then it can't be anything but for the better." Always butter them up. Always. "You think I was ugly before." It was a statement, combined with an exaggerated frown. I had no idea where I had seen her before, but I certainly doubted she had been ugly. "Yeah, ugly like a troll..." My voice tapered down as I said it. Something about that word rang too close to the truth. Not 'troll', but something like it. "Oopsie!" she said with a grin. "You're starting to get close. You'll figure it out in a minute." Leaning over she planted a sloppy wet kiss on me and tousled my hair. Then she wrinkled her nose. "You taste good. Like me! But you smell like three days in the same old clothes." "Well that would only make sense. I've been in these same old clothes for a week." She uncoiled herself out of her sitting position and pulled at my hand. "You need a shower!" she said, and giggled. "Come on. I'll help." Showing only enough resistance to preserve my dignity I allowed myself to be pulled up and out of the bed. Standing next to her I found I had been correct, that she was about tall enough to look me directly in the chin. I tipped her head back and kissed her properly. She was no novice in the art. She swam right into my arms and fitted herself against me, causing a definite reaction to my slightly retreated erection. Her lips met mine, soft and attentive, while I placed my hands on her in tempting places. It almost felt as if she were humming against my tongue, or that her whole body was vibrating against me. I looked down and met her blue eyed gaze. Giggling she bit my lip and broke my hold on her. "Come on! It's this way." Jerry's house is a curious structure that doesn't seem to have been designed so much as to have grown. Considering the large family group that lives there it's not surprising it's a little different from the norm. They're mostly his family of course. Jerry is in his 50's and the oldest of three brothers and six sisters. The last I had heard five of his sisters still lived with him, the three eldest with their husbands. Jerry himself had five daughters and two sons. All of his brothers and sons had moved on, which made the house somewhat overflowing with girls- some of them with husbands or significants. The house itself grows out in wings from a central large room dominated by a huge fireplace. Behind the fireplace is a substantial kitchen, paralleled by an equally impressive dining room. Off of the opposite end of the great room three wings radiate. One wing is for the children (of which there are many), one is for the adults, and the third is for visitors and overflow. I didn't know, but I was the only occupant of this third wing. At the far end of each wing was a large communal bathroom, with the WC separate from the bathing facilities for practical reasons. The girl placed her hands on my hips and pushed me down the corridor and into the pleasantly tiled space. "Here we are. Have you figured out who I am yet?" The room was unoccupied, which didn't surprise me. "Well, we weren't lovers. Or at least I don't think so." She took hold of my shirt and pulled it up from where it was tucked into my leathers. "Nope, or at least not until this morning." I swear I could hear the twinkle in her eye as she said it. I took the shirt from her hands and pulled it up and over my head. Before I could drop it on the bench that stretched down one wall, I felt her arms circle around my waist from behind and begin to unfasten the clasps. She fumbled a bit, but the front of my leather trousers are a little bit complicated. I placed my large hands on her slender wrists while she figured it out. Being a clever girl it didn't take her long. Once it was unfastened she stopped, and ran her hands up my now bare chest. I felt her face press against my back as she hugged me to her. "You took me for a ride once. Does this help?" The pieces were all there. I could tell that I knew who she was, but at the same time the memory continued to be elusive. "I've taken lots of girls for rides. How could that help?" Without answering, she reached down inside my pants to gently grasp my cock. "Good. I'm not through with you yet." Then she let go, and moved back away from me. "Maybe what you need is this." I turned around in time to see her finish pulling off her shirt and dropping it on a long bench that ran down the wall of the bathroom. She stood in front of me gloriously nude and posed provocatively, with one hand on her hip and her nipple crowned breasts raised for inspection. I felt myself smiling as I examined every inch of her. Somewhat short but nicely curved legs were the foundation of her pleasing shape. These were crowned with a pair of round hips that flared out in a sensuous way before disappearing in a slender waist and pretty belly. Below that framework for her interesting navel, a small patch of neatly groomed hair pointed downwards to those lips I had been so intimate with a few minutes earlier. Above it all her shoulders were broad and almost muscular. She grinned back, but said nothing. "Well don't just stand there," I finally said to break the stalemate. "Help me get these pants off." "Okay," she replied in a happy sing song way. I sat down on the bench and offered her one leg to get started with. She unzipped it, and then the other leg, before pulling down on the whole apparatus. With some coaxing my pants came off in her hands, while she looked up at me from between my legs. My erection was an obvious barrier between us that I wasn't sure exactly how to handle. She ignored it, and placed my discarded garments in a pile on the bench. Then standing, she took my hand and drew me off the bench and into the shower. "You only get one more hint before we get wet," she said, and stopped just as we entered a tiled communal shower stall. "My name is Amy." Amy... Amy, why was that name familiar? Then it came to me in a flash like rolling waves on a beach, all the hints and teasing. It all made perfect sense. She was Elf! My little friend Elf. I swarmed my arms around her waist and gathered her to me on the threshold of the shower, lifting her up so that she looked down on my face with a smile you could read a newspaper in the dark by. "Elf!" I cried, "My little sweetheart! I'm so sorry I didn't recognize you." She laughed, kissed me on the forehead, and slid back down to the floor in front of me. "You're forgiven. Like I said, I've changed a lot. I was barely an adult before. I grew up!" "And I haven't changed at all, in four years." Looking at me with a completely serious face and ignoring the fact that we were both naked as a fish, she shook her head. "Being the person you are, you could never change the thing that made me love you." I looked back at her strangely. "And what's that?" I asked. "If I told you then you wouldn't understand," she replied cryptically, "but if I don't tell you then you don't need to understand." "Huh?" was the best I could come up with. "Never mind. Into the shower with you." She once again pushed me, piloting me in and under a large shower-head while the light of the growing morning filled the room with it's golden glow. Four years earlier had been the first time I had stayed with Jerry and his family, when business had dropped me this direction. My boss, Candy, was an old friend and had directed me here. Several days had been enough to get acquainted with most of his household, but Jerry's youngest sister attached herself to me as my guardian and tour guide. She was small for her age, and had and pixy face for which I had nicknamed her 'Elf' but always treated her as my contemporary, six years her senior. Towards the end of my visit she had pleaded with me to give her a motorcycle ride, and with her brother's tentative consent I relented. We spent the better part of the afternoon exploring the local roads while she urged me to "...ride FASTER!" and clung to me with a ferociousness born of excitement. I returned her to her family some hours later, ice cream fed and exhausted, but happy and content. She made me promise to take her for another ride some day. Who's That Girl? The following day I left at dawn, before she awoke. She'd been a charming person for the few days we had known each other, but she disappeared from my memory rapidly except for a smoky wisp of innocent energy. She had been hardly more than a carefree child, and my world was a collection of adult responsibilities and never ending miles of remorseless road. That had been four years earlier. It was hard to reconcile the elfin person of my memory with this lovely young woman adjusting the water temperature in front of me. Somehow she had matured to be a confident woman without losing the adventuresome energy and wide eyed wonder of the person I had known. There was continuity here, but there were also questions in plenty. "Okay, under the water now." Her voice was commanding, almost motherly in it's tone. On the other hand, when she took me by the waist and steered me under the falling water the gesture could not be considered maternal. She maintained an unnecessary about of body contact as we were both coated by the stinging spray. "Let me know if the water's too hot." "No, that's just about perfect." She released her hold on me, allowing the water to roll off my hair and body, rinsing the grime and sweat of the road down and out of the drain. She moved around in front of me and under the shower to scrub my chest. I raised my arms over her head and placed each palm on the wall behind her, making her task that much easier. It was a joy to have her touch me, and an unnecessary one. I would have been content to watch her bathe herself, but the added pleasure of her hands on my body was welcome. Her method was efficient, and quite soon I felt as clean as I had been in weeks. Nor did she linger overlong anywhere, even washing my prick. If she gave it any special attention it was only to make sure it was clean, and she ended with a slight squeeze. I allowed her to wash my hair as well, although it would have been quicker for me to do so. Then I rinsed carefully before opening my eyes. She was directly in front of me looking up into my face with the clear stare and content smile of a person sure of what she was doing. Her black hair was water slicked to the sides of her head, and droplets of steamy water twinkled over her skin almost like ornaments. I reached for her and drew her to me under the shower. Our first kiss had been short; a sloppy peck that was a thank you as much as it was an expression of interest. Then our second kiss had been longer, more intimate, and bearing the promise of further enjoyment between us. This kiss was different. Our bodies were wet and glowing with the heat of the falling water, and it felt as if we must hold to each other tightly or the other would slip away. I could feel every inch of her skin as it pressed against mine, and there was some relief to my aching prick as it pressed between us. Her breasts were similarly welcome, tight against my chest. But it was the kiss which demanded my full attention. It was no quick peck, nor was it a gentle promise. Our lips met in an electric embrace as if we were well practiced with each other, and the tips of our tongues met repeatedly and intimately. I was lost in the sensation of her mouth, with the accompaniment of her body against mine. How long we spent in that embrace is problematic. It doesn't matter. When we finally pulled apart it was not that we were tired or had finished, but rather that we were more longing to be in each others space than we were at that time. I maintained eye contact as I knelt down on the clean tile of the shower floor, drawing her down with me. "Here?" she asked, almost wide eyed. "And now," I replied as I lay her backwards on the tile and under the hot spray. "There's a bed just down the corridor," she replied softly, although she showed no resistance. There had been no considering this. "Do you want to be fucked, or not?" I teased her. "You can fuck me anywhere, Simon, and as long as you like." This verbal invitation was accompanied by her spreading thighs and outstretched arms, welcoming me down onto the floor and into her embrace. She took me into her arms and I folded mine around her slippery body, nestling down and rubbing my prick around her sensitive folds. I moved my hips, not entirely trying to find the opening, but also for the lovely sensation of rubbing the head of my cock on her flesh. I was as hard as I could be and ready to fuck, but now that I was started I was in no hurry. The expressions on Amy's face as her cunt was teased and touched were just too fun to watch. My prick touched her thigh, and that caused a smile. Open eyed and and gentle she looked into my face happily. Moving it around I found her outer lips, moist and inviting. Her smile didn't go away, but her mouth opened and I could hear her short intake of breath. Ever so slightly I rubbed up and down, spreading and moving those lips while she sucked air over her open mouth in anticipation. Finally I stopped, the head of my prick lodged just within her tight slit and twitching. She frowned slightly in frustration, and I saw her lips move as she silently uttered "Please". This was enough to urge me forward, and I pressed into her gradually. My cock spread her lips and slowly entered her until our bodies connected. "Oh god yes," she said aloud. "Fill me!" I don't pretend to particularly large, as most men tend to. Baseless guessing puts me about average. Over the years there have been a number of women floating in and out of my life, and all of them have been different. With some the fit of cock and pussy had been pleasing and almost tailored. Others had been so loose that it would have required a stallion mule to properly fill them. Amy was delightfully of the first sort. Her sweet little slit that I had enjoyed earlier stretched open to admit me as if we had been designed to be together. I slid in and out in a gentle rhythm and every nerve connected with it's counterpart inside her. With each motion I initiated, she initiated it's compliment by heaving herself up or wiggling about. How she knew I don't know, but every motion was perfect. I could have cum in short order, but this was so enjoyable I restrained myself. She was simply too delicious to fuck. Soon she closed her eyes and turned her blissful expression to one side, but without altering her motions. In response, I closed my own eyes to listen to her breath. I began to hear a little chant of quiet words. Almost moans, but with meaning. "Oh, fuck me..." followed by "deeper." or, "Yes... Just there." Without realizing it I was doing just what she was asking, and enjoying every minute of it. Once again, time lost meaning. Everything we did was just right in that moment, and all of it felt wonderful. When I came back to the moment it was because there was a change in Amy's form. She had wrapped her legs around my hips and was pulling me in tighter. At the same time she thrust against me even sharper. "Oh, now Simon!" She muttered over her panting breath, "Fuck me harder, now!" I was only too happy to oblige, and sped up my actions. When I opened my eyes I saw her frozen in the act and only twitching below me. Some connection between us, or possibly the action of her orgasm itself, pushed me over the brink and I came in response to her commands. When I came she let out a high pitched squeal of pure pleasure, and squeezed me again with every muscle of her body. I continued to gently fuck, while filing her pussy with spurts of sperm. Like the first time, Amy collapsed in a relaxed heap underneath me, and her legs and thighs dropped down from their positions. I fucked her a few more strokes until I was finished, and then reached out with a gentle hand to touch her cheek. Surprisingly, she had fainted. I rolled off of her and picked her up in my arms, her pretty cheek resting on my shoulder. I stalled a few moments to let some of the residue wash down our bodies and into the drain before carrying her out to the bench. Seating her in a corner I scrounged around and found a large towel. I wasn't really worried about her unconscious state because her breathing was deep and regular and her complexion was pink and warm. Trying to be as tender as possible, I dried her body and face. An altogether enjoyable task. It didn't take long before her eyelids fluttered, and she stared at me almost uncomprehendingly. Like a sunrise slowly exposed over the horizon, recognition of my face registered in her eyes and she reached for me. I was on my knees before where she sat, and we joined in an embrace much more cozy and less frantic than our earlier meetings. "Do you always faint like that?" I had to ask, quietly to her neck. Her words carried a grin that I could almost see. "Not always, but let's just say that it's happened before." "Hmmm" I hummed against her skin. She smelled good, in a fresh spring way. Clean and very feminine. I slipped an arm around her waist, and began to lift her up again. "Not yet, Simon," she said, stopping me in mid lift. "Give me a second to finish drying off. You need to dry off too." She had a point. I fetched her a fresh towel, and retrieved the one I had previously used on her for myself. It's dampness didn't bother me, but the idea that it had just caressed her skin was a thrill in it's own right. Amy herself was finishing drying her skin and hair in her typical efficient way, although this caused movements and jiggles in her body that almost were a dance. She ended by wrapping the towel around her body, presumably for warmth. She certainly wasn't covering up because of me, and from my pervious experience with this household I knew that casual nudity was normally acceptable. Taking my hand in her baby soft grasp and drawing me with her by the sheer force of her gaze, Amy barely gave me a chance to gather my things before leading me down the dim hallway. We passed perhaps a half-dozen doors before we reached the only ajar portal, which presumably was mine. When we left that room I have to admit that I was distracted enough not to notice which room I had occupied. Candy would not have been proud of me for that. Unsurprisingly the room was undisturbed. I spent a few moments to hang my jacket and other gear in the closet, while unobtrusively retrieving my SIG. I quickly checked the magazine and the chamber before turning around. Amy had pulled back the bedding and was sitting provocatively, watching me, and generating a sultry smile. She had leaned back against her arms, and raised one foot up onto the bed to expose a fair bit of thigh under her towel. "You think you're going to need that?" she asked in a voice both innocent and mocking. Attitude aside, I wasn't going to let a good practice fall by the wayside. "I doubt it," I replied as I placed it on the nightstand within reach. "but I'm alive today because of habits like that." "So what you do is that dangerous?" Suddenly she was serious. "Sometimes. Less so than for other guys. Working for Candy has it's advantages." "I suppose so," she answered while removing her towel and beaconing me into the bed by her side. "I talked with her." Climbing into the bedding and drawing her into my arms, what she said barely registered. VOIP was insecure if paid for and dangerous if hacked. What could possess her to call a woman she didn't know on the other side of the continent didn't make sense. "Is that so," I replied in a muffled kiss on her neck. For some reason she was fumbling down between us, reaching for my prick. The act of laying down with her had caused a slight reaction down there, but nothing warranting any immediate action. Finding it and noting it's state, she began stroking me lightly, gradually bringing it back to it's former stiffness. "Mmm-hmmm. Come on now, I want you inside of me." I really hadn't planned on a repeat of the performance so soon, but her calm prodding had made it possible. Showing some exaggerated reluctance I rolled onto my back. As quick as that she followed on top of me, taking my refreshed erection inside her. She hugged me to her and I placed one hand on her shapely ass, the other in her hair. Oddly enough, she didn't start to fuck me. "Okay not that I have your attention, I have something to tell you." 'Here it comes,' I thought to myself. I had known from the first second she came to me that there was something more to this whole encounter than what it appeared. Whatever it was I was sure I could handle it. Occasionally I have been known to be wrong in my beliefs. "Simon, that last time when you left here..." Suddenly that confident seductress was gone and there was a hurt sound to her voice. "...why didn't you say goodbye to me?" That was a difficult question, but one to which I had an answer. "I leave a lot of places that I may never go back to, Amy. In my line of work it's just... easier. Not saying goodbye." "So it wasn't because you didn't care for me?" I felt a little wetness on my neck just below my ear where her face was resting. How do you explain to a person like her, who has so naive about the ways of our shattered world? "I leave people all the time that I care about, and you must realize that I barely knew you then. It wasn't personal." "I guess I can understand that," she replied, and I felt a squeeze down deep inside of her. "And you didn't know that I loved you." It was the second time that she had mentioned that. It's part of my job to be attentive to people's attitudes and reactions, although somehow I had missed that on my first trip. Or possibly I unconsciously put it down to the crush of a girl only recently become a woman. What person could fall in love with someone only known for a few brief days? "Is that why you came to me this morning?" I asked, as I ran my hands over her curves and gently moving hips. She sniffed back a sob, then let out a slightly self-conscious giggle. "Not exactly. It's no secret around here that I'm a bit of a sex fiend." This was accompanied by a longer stroke, and if possible she felt tighter. "I wanted you. At least once before you left us, I wanted you. I thought you might leave again without saying goodbye." What do you say to that? "I promise I won't leave again without saying goodbye." "It's not just that. I'm not trying to make you change or anything, and if it's easier for you to just leave..." Almost I felt a shiver race through her small frame. "...I understand. It's okay." I moved my hands away from her tight ass and just wrapped my arms around her, pulling her tight against me. The reward was her imitating my actions. For long minutes we just lay there, joined but unmoving. Her breath surrounded me, and our skin was warm where we touched. Far off in the household I heard the first voices of morning, distant and incomprehensible. "I'm sorry Simon," Amy continued after a long deep breath. "I'm afraid to say what I've been planning to say, and even more afraid of your reaction." "When I leave on a trip," I replied as if she hadn't said anything, "the first thing I do is make sure all of my equipment is in working order. That way I'm as ready for anything that happens as I can be. In your case you need to be sure you are prepared for whatever reaction I will make." I paused there, hoping that bit of wisdom would sink in a little. Somehow I had a feeling where this was going, and I wasn't sure myself what my reaction would be. My brain seemed to shy away from examining the prospect. "That's the problem," she said uncertainly. "Every reaction that's possible frightens me. Have you ever felt that way?" "Every day. Some days I'd rather have the bad things happen just because I know how to deal with those, and when the good days happen I only think about how long it will be until the next big bad. It's a professional hazard. You become neurotically pessimistic." "Yes. I think you do understand." Again there was the long pause when being in each other's physical presence was the most important thing. "Let me tell you a story then," she added softly. "A long time ago, a man came here. He was different than my brothers and my nephews, or any of the neighbors around here. He was tall, and quiet, and strong. Some of my sisters and nieces would talk about him, and how every day for him was a trial. Every place he went unfriendly. They wondered how any person could live a life like that and remain sane? I kept quiet because he was always kind. On the night he arrived he sat in a chair holding a sleeping cat for longer than an hour, scratching it behind the ears. "The next morning I brought him breakfast at the table. Anyone could have done it, but I made sure it was me. He was courteous, and not only thanked me but asked if I'd had breakfast yet. That evening when he returned he asked me what was for dinner, making sure I had eaten before he would let me bring him anything. "For two more days I made sure that if he needed anything that I was there to help him with it. It wasn't hard. He never seemed to need anything but the occasional cup of tea while he was closed up in my brothers study with the people he had to meet. Then on the last day he was here I saw him working on his bike quietly in the early morning. I just sat and watched, and he didn't seem to mind. Then, when he was done he went to Jerry and asked, before offering to take me for a ride. "I had never been on a motorcycle before and was thrilled. We rode all day, seeing places that I didn't even know were that close to my home and enjoying the open aired freedom. As the sun sank, he bought me ice cream before taking me home. This man, who was so alien to my family, was the first man who ever treated me as a woman and not a child. "The next morning he was gone without saying goodbye. In tears I went to my brother to ask why. All he would tell me was that it was better this way, and that I shouldn't set my heart on him. I said that it wasn't fair, and Jerry agreed with me. Then he told me one thing that I'll never forget. "He's a good man, from a good clan. With luck some day he will come this way again and you can tell him." "It didn't seem possible, but with Jerry's help I found out everything I could about him and his people. I learned about Candy, and what he did. The more I learned, the more I fell in love with the man I knew for only a few days. I lived my life, and I fooled around with the local boys, but he was always there. "Then my brother told me you were coming back. He knew that I was still thinking about you, so he arranged for me to talk with Candy." Amy stopped her monolog for a moment, and when she continued I could hear a smile in her voice. "She was wonderful. We let our hair down and talked like old girlfriends for a long time. She listened to everything I had to say, and asked the best questions and gave the best advice." "Yes, that's Candy," I added, nodding against her hair. "What was the advice she gave you?" Amy was quiet for a very long time, and her breath on my chest was deep and slow. We were still connected in our deep lovers embrace, not moving though still aware of how close we were. When she finally spoke it was quiet, but resolved. "My bag is packed, Simon. When you go I want to go with you." Now it was my turn to be silent. As a person who's used to making quick life and death decisions, this was a different set of circumstances. I had expected something much like this, but there was that inner part of me that wasn't ready for it when the truth was out. "If it helps any, Candy said I'm welcome whether you bring me or I come on my own." I felt the wetness of tears on my neck again, although no sobs accompanied them. "You don't have to make a decision right away." There are times when I have to make those life and death decisions when I don't know all the information. That's one of the things that makes me good at what I do. "You know that when I leave my home, there's never any guarantee that I'll come back?" Who's That Girl? "Yes, Simon." Not only her voice was shaking, but her muscles tightened up and there was a quiver to her body. "What I want is to be there for you, every time you come back." Did I want that? I had never had a steady thing with any woman. What woman would have me under the uncertain conditions under which I lived? The uncertainties were there, and I couldn't bring myself to ignore them. "Amy, here you have a home and a family. I don't even have a place to sleep that's mine when I go home. Is that what you want?" "I know, but Candy said that a place would be made for me. So then you would have a place to sleep when you come home." Here she stopped with a sobbing intake of breath. "I know it would mean leaving my family, but you have a family too. Jerry says it's a good one, and that's good enough for me." I sighed deeply, taking my attention away from her words and directing it to where her body was touching mine. She was cooling where the bed covering had slipped down around her waist, so I drew it up around her shoulders. All the sexual motions of a few moments before had ceased, and Amy had curled herself down into my arms. She held me tightly as if I would leave at that very moment. My erection was gone, and I felt myself slip out of her. Slowly, in a distant part of my mind, a few wheels were turning. Did I want what she was offering? Was it fair to her? Could she even be sure that this is what she wanted? The unanswered questions were many, and the assured answers were few. My gut reaction, down deep where I didn't think too hard, was clear. But was it right? "You're awfully quiet," Amy said tentatively. "It's a trade secret," I replied. "If you're quiet most of the time then people listen when you do speak." Something clicked inside my psyche, and I knew what to do. I didn't know if it was right, or if I even knew what was right. It no longer mattered, because I knew what to do. Taking both of Amy's shoulders in my hands I lifted her up off of me where I could see her face. It was frightened and understandably red eyed. Watching her reaction, I let her face come down to my waiting kiss. Our lips met and she grasped me frantically, kissing me fiercely. She stopped to ask one breathless question, "What are you doing?" "Speaking," I said, and kissed her again. In response she lightly rubbed her nipples against my chest and ground her hips against me. I didn't need much more to complete my reaction, but the thought of her tight pussy rubbing against my prick made it stiffen quickly. "Yes?" she said, drawing up away from my mouth and prick. "And what are you saying?" "I can't tell you what will happen, or what life will be like. What life will be like has a lot to do with what you make of it." Her brow wrinkled, unsure of what I was saying. And yet, she settled the moist lips of her pussy down just touching the head of my cock. "...but when I leave here I'll take you with me." Amy gave a short cough like sob, and her face broke into an expression half painful and half in joy. At the same time she pressed down onto my stiff cock, taking it inside of her once again. Falling onto me she cried softly, "you won't regret it, Simon," and continued to fuck me tenderly. "I know this is the right thing, and someday you'll know it too." ********** Author's note: If this seems like there is a lot more back-story missing, you are correct. This is based on a world of a speculative fiction nature that I've done a lot of work on. Eventually it will be the basis of a series of connected short stories, but in fact this is the only one that is (sort of) complete. One other is semi-complete as well. None of the other planned stories are to be erotic in nature, but then this one wasn't supposed to be a part of the set either. One never knows where the characters will lead. One other thing. This started out as an exercise in an erotic story, but rapidly grew into something more. At times it drifts form the idea a bit. I could edit that out, or break it up into smaller bits, but I think it hangs together better as one complete unit. Feel free to let me know if you disagree (or agree!) but try to be nice about it. Thanks for reading. K