*When I fell to Earth I realized perfection; Earth has everything while Heaven has no Evil*

(Thanks to Frontma for all the grief puts up with on my behalf)

(This starts out a bit chaotic and slow but it does pick up)

(Yes, this tale is supposed to be somewhat humorous and outrageous too. While not always comedic I’d like to think it is mostly a good-natured romp.)


It was well past one when I finally had the gang rounded up and headed back out to our rides. It took all of twenty seconds for a buzz-happy Rio to realize that Willa and a now unemployed Belle tagged along. When she did, her look was one of ferocity.

“Oh, hell no!” she snapped, and turned toward the two Warlord ladies. “I’m going to kick your ass.”

“Last time I saw you, Bitch, you were half way to the city’s sewage system,” Belle laughed back. “Want to go the rest of the way?”

Rio surged against Mercy and Barbie Lynn’s restraining hands while Willa pulled Belle back, and I ended up in the middle holding them both at bay.

“Calm down Rio, it is cool now,” I told my buddy. “Belle, this isn’t what you think.” Speaking of thinking; I had to think fast to figure a way to turn this situation around. I’d hoped that Rio would be so happy, she’d have let it lie for the night — silly me.

“Rio, I’d like Belle to give us motorcycle lessons for the trip this summer, and to personally give you self-defense training,” I spewed forth my hare-brained idea.

“What the fuck?” questioned Belle.

“Fuck that noise,” Rio spat. “I don’t need this dink to teach me how to fight.” I wasn’t sure what a ‘dink’ was but I doubt it had positive connotations.

“Rio, you haven’t picked a martial arts instructor yet and I think Belle’s self-taught style would be somewhat attractive to you,” I guessed. I had no clue as to Belle’s fighting background.

“I’d rather teach a goat how to use a unicycle than teach this moron how to ride a bike,” Belle growled.

“I’ll pay you fifty dollars an hour per four students,” I offered Belle.

“She’s a skank,” Rio seethed. Belle, on the other hand, seemed to be coming around.

“Fifty bucks-…per four people? What would I have to do?” Belle inquired. She was job hunting after all.

“Teach them how to ride, for starters,” Valarie came to my rescue, “plus basic maintenance, road lore, and stuff like that. You’d also have to teach Rio how to not get her ass kicked.”

“I keep telling you people, I don’t need this bitch,” Rio repeated.

“Fine, Rio, but tell me, who is going to be your instructor?” I countered. “It can’t be Mercy.”

“Want your knife back?” Belle grinned as she reached into her boot and pulled out the butterfly knife Val had given Rio on Thursday.

“I don’t know,” Rio grumbled, “have you been using it as a sexual aid?”

Belle snorted. “Fuck, with Zane around, who needs one?” Belle smiled wickedly. “Two orgasms in ten minutes at a table on the club floor and that was only with his tongue and fingers.”

“He’d have nailed her in the bathroom if it hadn’t been for that whole ‘no sex’ thing,” Tawny added.

“I should have stuck with you, Zane,” Paige tugged on my arm. “See where you ended up?”

“Who is the ghost?” Belle asked snidely.

“I’m Paige and Zane is with me this weekend,” Paige challenged Belle…bad move. Sometimes reactions pull you one way and instincts send you in another. I went with instincts and let events play out. Belle scooped Paige up under each arm and hoisted her up.

“You are what — 100 pounds? A whole weekend with him and he’d break you in two,” Belle observed. “He needs a real woman, not a bit of fluff.”

It was time for me to become involved. I reached an arm around Paige’s waist and took her weight onto me. Belle was kind enough to let go so I swung Paige up until I was carrying her in my arms. Paige switched her gaze between me and Belle twice, then latched onto me.

“Okay — I win,” Paige announced. “I’m the bit of fluff he comes to again and again, after all.”

“You are the freakiest group of people I’ve ever seen,” Hank spoke up. “A sorority president and sisters” (Leigh and Jersey had joined us), “two Warlord bikers, Christian school girls, and a porn star — no offense, Zane.”

“Just another day ending in ‘y’,” Iona whispered. I caught that zing and snickered.

“No offense taken, Hank,” I joked back. “I’d rather have the memories and suffer through the condemnations of those who don’t know me than miss out.”

“Dude, if you ever need a stand in,” Finn added to the joy. He and Ginger had indeed hooked up again, so we were good on that front. Ginger did playfully thump him in the chest though.

“Finn, you are already sleeping on the sofa tonight,” Ginger teased. “Would you rather be out on the welcome mat?”

“Thanks for letting us spend the night at your place,” Barbie Lynn added to the play.

“What?” Finn squawked. “Oh, come on, Babe.” Ginger detached from Finn and wrapped an arm around Barbie Lynn’s waist, who reciprocated the gesture.

“Oh, come on, Babe,” Ginger mimicked, “We want a little girl time, ya know, one on one.” Barbie Lynn turned her head and exchanged a heated kiss with Ginger that decidedly aroused me. I hated to think what Finn was going through.

“Dudes, I’m going down to the river,” Finn groaned.

“Wouldn’t a cold shower be better and safer?” Leigh asked.

“I’m not going to cool down; I’m going to drown my stupid ass for stepping out on Ginger at the start of the night,” Finn sighed. “I deserve this.”

“That’s what I wanted to hear,” Ginger gloated. She gave another quick kiss to Barbie then glided back to Finn. “It’s okay, Honey, I forgive you.”

“Thanks Babe,” Finn kissed her once more.

“You are still sleeping on the sofa when we get home,” she announced triumphantly. The lesson here is, if you are ever given a choice between fighting a man or a woman; fight a man. Men beat you up, gloat, then walk away. Women hold grudges — forever.

“Any advice for our lovelorn?” Willa asked.

“Everything fades, be it fame, passion or possessions — it all goes to dust and is lost,” I said.

“That’s rather depressing,” Willa noted.

“The exact opposite,” I countered. “All you are and will ever be is defined by what you do in the next few seconds of life. That is when you can mark yourself as a hero or a villain.”

“I can buy that,” Belle mused. “Live for the moment.” I could tell Iona was more uncertain about my words so I expanded.

“I am not saying don’t plan for the future, but don’t live so much for what might be that you ignore what is going on around you right now, because no moment matters less than any other,” I added.

“That’s my boy: Renaissance warrior-poet with the libido of Ron Jeremy,” Rio jibed.

“I like it,” Tawny spoke up. “What would it be like to spend the whole weekend, or a whole week, alone with Zane? I wouldn’t be bored.”

“I wouldn’t be able to walk,” Barbie Lynn giggled.

“I’d enjoy the education,” Paige noted.

“I’d enjoy the peace and quiet,” Vivian joked.

“Zane, you have a little bit of a fan club here,” Belle smiled.

“Totally unwarranted and undeserved,” I sighed.

We arrived at the water tower and we went our separate ways. I’m sure Paige and Iona wanted to talk to me but they both fell asleep within three minutes of getting in the car. I took them up individually to my room and tucked them in before letting a sleeping Jill know we’d made it back and assuring her that we’d make it to church in the morning.

Service and Supper

We weren’t feeling terribly chipper when Iona, Paige and I crawled out of bed, but we were conscious, ambulatory, and capable of speech so we passed Aunt Jill’s inspection before heading out to church. For Paige, it would be a new experience as she normally spent Sunday morning at FFU’s Assembly hall. Fortunately, she would be exploring the experience with Iona.

My class was amusing as always. Somehow, no one had missed the little revolution we’d staged at university and there was varying levels of confusion, disgust, and anger with what ‘I’d’ done. Yeah, it was my entire fault because I was in the middle of ‘God Made Man First’ country. Oddly enough, Chris Gilbert stuck it out with me, jumping in on my side when more than two guys ganged up on me verbally.

The second time Chris parried Mr. Coleman’s insinuations of my corruption away, the gang gave up and actually got down to the lesson for the week — the Book of Samuel; namely, King Saul versus the Philistines. The lesson was that God abandons sinners. I hung on to the point that even when he knew he was going to die, Saul led his army out to fight the invaders of his homeland. I doubted any of those guys would know what kind of courage it took to fight a lost cause if the time came.

“Do you make a habit of running off cliffs and into walls,” Chris joked with me, then “Whoops, sorry about that — your parents and all.”

“It was mountain climbing,” I shrugged, “so don’t worry about it. Have a good week?”

“Oh, peachy; I burned down a state park and robbed the Louvre,” Chris stated, deadpan.

“Dude,” I laughed, “if you are trying to compete with me let me just say ‘you win’ and end the contest right now. You can have it and the grief that goes with it.”

“Does that include the girls?” Chris chuckled. It was odd having a real conversation with a guy nearly my age who had a clue where I was coming from.

My response was overwhelmed by the crush of young ladies around us. What followed was a chorus of ‘hey, Zane’, ‘hey, guy’, and Iona and Barbie Lynn adding a ‘hi, Chris’.

“Hi there, ladies,” and “Hello Barbie Lynn and Iona,” followed up Chris. By the way he was looking at Barbie Lynn, I could tell that his perception of her had changed. He wasn’t leering but there was a certain sexual curiosity that was new to his gaze.

Barbie Lynn caught Chris’ look, smiled, but then cuddled up to me to make the situation clear enough. Chris chuckled and shook his head mirthfully.

“So is McHunky (Chris) part of the group now?” Rio broke through the politeness.

“Chris is not treating me like I’m Caine so I’d hope he’d say yes if you ask him nicely,” I answered.

“I would say ‘yes,’ with the understanding that I’m older than all of you and like to live a slightly more private, video-free, lifestyle,” Chris informed us.

“Chris,” Rio inquired, “what is the maximum number of girls you would take to bed at one time, and how many would you feel comfortable dating?” I wanted to kill Rio once more, considering we were clearly being overheard as we moved down the hallway leading to the Tabernacle.

“Hmmm,” Chris thought it over. “Four in one bed, but I’d only feel comfortable dating one woman at a time. I’m old-fashioned that way.”

“That’s not a problem,” Rio grinned, “old-fashioned we can cure.”

“How about we respect different people for their differences, ya nut-job,” I cautioned Rio.

Rio’s retort was cut off by our entry into the main area of worship. Chris waved good-bye and angled toward the front and his family. With Barbie Lynn in the lead, the rest of us moved to the far side where the FFU crowd sat together. I couldn’t find Jill in her regular spot but Iona pointed out she’d joined Mrs. Wellington, the Mayor, Lance, and Felicity on the second pew — a few steps up in the world.

We’d settled in after the first hymn and Pastor Bill had started the morning greeting when the two main doors to the church slammed open and a black clad woman strode in — it was Belle. It was also clear that Belle had never been in here before, had no idea where I would be seated, and was overwhelmed by the sheer number of parishioners. I don’t think she cared that most of them were staring at her. She had dressed up, right? She had on a black jacket, black t-shirt, black jeans and black boots. She’d taken off her black sunglasses.

I stood up, put two fingers in my mouth the way Heaven had taught me (Orienteering class — honest) and whistled loudly as I waved her over. Belle’s head snapped my way and over she came. By long-standing tradition, Iona sat on one side of me and Rio took the other. This time, Paige had supplanted Iona.

Belle decided that insinuating herself between Paige and I would require a crowbar and some leverage so she sat down on Rio instead. Rio grumbled, squeezed out from under Belle, and sat in Mercy’s lap. Bill, with a final glare my way, picked up the service as best he could and droned on. Rio leaned into Belle and licked her cheek as a means of retaliation.

Belle didn’t punch Rio, for which I was grateful. I made sure to put a little extra on the collection plate — for God’s sake, not the church’s, when the time came around. The sermon was on the Israelites and their forty years of wandering before coming to the Promised Land. I think there was some confusion between myself and most of the flock here on who was the one farthest from the expected destination.

At the end of the service my plan went into motion, with multiple women having a role to play. Oddly, despite this being a criminal endeavor, Belle was the only one close to me not involved. It was good fortune that put her at my side because with so many of the church elders gawking/fearing/lusting after her, they completely missed the real mischief makers.

“Good morning, Rochelle,” I greeted the mayor’s wife. She turned, smiled at me, then looked over at Belle. “This is Belle…”

“Belle Kennan,” Belle finished up for me. I hadn’t known her last name.

“I know you,” Rochelle was clearly thinking hard. “Did you used to collect golf balls off the greens at the country club years ago? You had a sister. Your father was a groundskeeper.”

“That was a while ago,” Belle allowed. “Dad fucked it up with his drinking, like he did everything else. My sister, Tara, is now a Sheriff’s Deputy around here.”

“What do you do?” Rochelle made conversation.

“I’m Zane’s…chauffer,” Belle answered with a twisted grin. “Actually, I’m giving him and some of his friends motorcycle lessons.”

“That sounds promising,” Rochelle continued. “Belle, can I have a few moments of Zane’s time?” Belle gave me a suspiciously sexy raised eyebrow then went looking for another one of my female set. “Zane, you were right about that matter we discussed. I still don’t know what I want to do with the news. Maybe we can discuss it Wednesday night?”

“Absolutely,” I nodded.

“By the way, there seems to be a growing suspicion that you are not a very moral person,” Rochelle leaned in and whispered to me. “Apparently there is some evidence of you and some other girls…”

“I’ve never denied it,” I told her. “I also believe that no one seems to care that I’ve foresworn sex for the weekend. I know it is not much by most people’s standards but at least I’m trying to see how the other half lives.”

“How is that working for you?” Rochelle grinned.

“Abysmally; I’ve been tackled, jumped on, stacked up in a shower, grappled at a party, and got a lap dance in a club,” I groaned.

“You should stay home more often,” Rochelle advised.

“I received the tackle, jumping, and the stacking at home, Rochelle,” I related. “Maybe I should hide out at your house.” Rochelle stared at me and I wasn’t sure what to make of that.

“I will see you on Wednesday; take care now,” I broke the silence between us. I turned and went over to the gulf of isolation that was Sahara Penny. “Hello, Mrs. Penny. You look incredibly inspirational this morning.”

“Hello, Zane,” she smiled, her white teeth brightening up her Lebanese features.

“I was thinking that I could do the whole dinner thing with you and William tomorrow night, if that is okay with you,” I looked her over.

“Well, you could hardly become more of a pariah,” she mused. “I would be glad to cook you a meal.”

“Wolves may get hunted but sheep always get eaten,” I replied.

“Are you a wolf, Mr. Braxton?” she teased.

“I have to be worthy of your company,” I retorted, which she found amusing. “I’ll see you,” I tacked on before heading toward the main gathering.

I patiently waited for the main group of men to recognize my presence but today they seemed less than willing to. I must have really been a bad boy. I did catch Rio handing off a phone to Iona who was quietly but quickly working away on it. I had to wonder how long it would take for Lance to realize Rio had swiped it from him. Hell, I promised Raven I’d get her those books from George Mason’s library and I was going to return his phone to him soon enough.

“Hey, my little Butt-Monkey,” Belle taunted me loudly, “are you waiting on this bunch of old fuckers for something?” The conversation stopped and heads turned our way: yay me.

“Mr. Braxton,” Pastor Bill snapped in a clipped manner, “when you invite some…person to our church you should consult with me or one of the deacons to see if they are appropriate.”

He was pointedly ignoring Belle, which I found to be both rude and unwise as Belle was the most likely person he’d ever meet who would gladly take his underwear waistband and pull it over his head and laugh while she did it.

“I wasn’t actually wise enough to invite Ms. Kennan but I should have because I was under the impression this was a House of God. I’ll make her tithe if that’s what you are worried about,” I informed them.

“The appropriateness of you being in this church is also in question,” Mayor Wellington brought up.

“How’s Phillip?” Belle spoke up with a wicked sneer toward the Mayor; Phillip was one of his sons. “We had a lot of fun in high school. He was good enough to bring me by your house but he never brought me to your church.”

“He would have never dated someone like you,” the mayor glared at Belle.

“Technically we weren’t looking for a relationship,” Belle grinned, “but does that big four-poster bed of yours still have that dainty white dust curtain with the roses on it?”

“You are nothing more than a low-down dirty whore like your mother,” Mr. Gibson, the county’s largest furniture seller, snarled at Belle.

I wasn’t sure what her response was because Gibson staggered into Mr. Lieber when I drew my hand back for a slap; everyone got quiet. Yes, I had almost committed assault in front of thirty or so witnesses who hated my guts. Oh, and one of them was a judge.

“Braxton!” Pastor William thundered.

“Hold that thought, Bill,” I pointed to the reverend before turning back to Gibson, “Sir, you insulted a lady in my presence, so you can apologize to her or step out with me to the parking lot where we can settle this like men, because I’m morally opposed to causing needless bloodshed in a house of worship.”

“That’s it, Braxton, you…” Pastor Bill growled.

“Zane!” a different, feminine voice interrupted. “Apologize to Mr. Gibson at once.”

“I apologize, Mr. Gibson,” I grudgingly stated.

“I should have you arrested,” Gibson grumbled.

“And I’ll make sure that your little outburst with…” the woman threatened.

“Belle Kennan,” Belle studied the newcomer and the girls around her.

“Ms. Kennan goes all over the internet and is flagged with every search engine with your name and the name of your store,” Christina finished.

“I’ll sue,” Gibson fought back.

“And I’ll win,” Christina kept coming. “This is clearly a First Amendment issue, both speech and religion. Now are we going to play nice and respect our fellow Christians or are we going to collectively forget we are all adults?”

“He is not going to get away with this threat of force,” Pastor Bill persisted.

“Pastor Penny, are we truly basing our actions and reaction on what an eighteen-year-old playboy does?” Christina pointed out. “Clearly, leadership is called for, and since you men are the patriarchs of the church, you should be leading Zane in the proper course of action.”

“Mr. Gibson,” Chris joined in, “maybe Zane could clean up your parking lot one afternoon as penance.” I had to be sure he was helping me out here.

“Grrr…alright,” Mr. Gibson admitted. “That would satisfy me.”

I caught sight of Aunt Jill looking my way. I half expected her to volunteer my acceptance but she waited patiently on me instead — not a good sign concerning her dependence on me.

“If it is okay with Mr. Gibson, I’ll come over when he gives me a call and my school schedule allows,” I said.

“I hope that settles that,” Mr. Gilbert, Christopher’s father, announced. “Was there a reason for Mr. Braxton waiting around us?” He was covering for his son, not me.

“I was agreeing to Pastor William’s invitation to eat dinner with him tomorrow,” I said.

“I will have to look at my schedule and get back to you,” Pastor Bill replied in a snide tone.

“No problem — Mrs. Penny and I’ll hit Zeta’s tomorrow and we can work out something for later,” I smiled. I turned and left before he could finish sputtering because not only was Zeta’s one of the finest eating establishments in town, I heard rumors it was also highly romantic.

I took eight steps before I nearly doubled over in pain. Christina had kidney-punched me, and hard. I turned fast enough to see Belle and Christina facing off.

“Do you want to explain that to me, Princess?” Belle inquired with a false grin.

“I’m Christina Buchannan and I’m wondering what you are doing here burning through what little good will Zane has with this congregation,” the woman I love sizzled.

“Zane, should I give a crap?” Belle joked. She didn’t need me to tell her what to think.

“She’s the woman I love more than life itself,” I explained to Belle, who regarded me curiously.

“I occasionally like him,” Christina remarked, “when he’s not making an ass of himself.”

“I couldn’t let them insult Belle,” I countered. “If she slapped the guy, you know they would have screwed her over.”

“I don’t need you to pick my fights, Dumbass,” Belle mocked me. “These people and their opinions don’t bother me. Hell, Mom whored around a lot and for all I know, Old Man Gibson might even be my Daddy. Now,” she looked at Heaven, “why are you eyeballing me?”

“I’m Heaven and Zane’s my boyfriend,” Heaven declared.

“Oh, God,” chuckled Belle, “when Tawny said your life was beyond description, she wasn’t kidding.”

“If we can all agree to get along I have one last thing I need to get done and then anyone who wants can make for Jill’s,” I stated. I leaned in and kissed Heaven on the ear. She finally broke her glare directed at Belle to look up at me so I kissed her on the lips.

“Are we okay, Babe?” I asked Heaven. She looked at me but seemed terribly upset by something that I was unclear about. She nodded and I broke away. Iona slipped me the phone as I approached Felicity. I now got to see if what I’d done had screwed up my relationship with her.

“Hey, Felicity, do you know whose phone this is?” I asked Lance Wellington’s fiancé.

“That looks like Lance’s,” Felicity took the device and examined it. “It is,” she confirmed.

“Are you going to George Mason anytime this week?” I inquired.

“I was going up Tuesday to visit Lance for some kind of fraternity affair,” Felicity said.

“When you are there could you pick up some books for me? I checked them out but I’d have to find a way to make the trip myself and with my school schedule, that would be tough,” I explained.

“Zane, how does someone from FFU get books from George Mason?” Felicity leaned in and whispered.

“I’m not breaking the law but I am doing it in an underhanded manner,” I whispered back.

“Okay,” she smiled warmly, if in a rather complacent manner.

“Thanks,” I told her, before parting ways and making for the door. A tide of women migrated with me outside. As we split up, I caught sight of Belle putting on her helmet and sitting on her hog. “Are you coming over for supper (the midday meal in the Southeastern US)?”

“Does inviting the poor outcast chick to the house make you feel better about yourself?” Belle teased me.

“Does everything have to be about you and your vendetta against the Established Order?” I shot back.

“I bet the girls have a blast tying you down because you can be downright irritating,” Belle rolled her eyes.

“We’ve already gone down that road with me, the cross and the sorority in the woods, so stop gloating. Now, are you coming to supper willingly or are you going to have to beat me up when I try and make you?”

“Fine,” Belle raised up her hands, “when I looked up ‘dumbass’ and ‘stupid’ online, they both had your portrait under the ‘images of’ section. If I walk in the door, you will know I’ve accepted your offer. Now step back before I decide you are more annoying than cute.”

I stepped back, joined Paige and Iona at the car, and travelled my dumb ass back home. Barbie Lynn, Valarie, Rio, and Mercy had already joined Aunt Jill in her heroic culinary efforts based on the talents of the microwave and a warm skillet. The parade of food was setting around the table when I noticed Paige had gone missing. As I scanned about, I saw Belle walk into the dining room — I hadn’t heard the doorbell ring or a knock at the door.

“Have we locked away the good silver,” Valarie joked when she realized Belle was here. Belle didn’t look amused by Val’s ribbing. “It’s for Rio,” Valarie snickered.

“Hey,” snorted Rio, “Belle, you are stepping on my Bad Girl image. I’ll take Grand Theft Auto and vandalism and you get burglary and guns; deal?”

“Zane…” Jill was looking for some explanation from me so I decided to see how far her new tolerance could be stretched.

“I wanted to show Belle one of the guest rooms,” I stated carefully, but with authority. “She doesn’t have a place to live and since we have the space, I figure she could hang out until she puts some money away for a new place. Plus you would have someone home when you got off of work and the house would be safer. Belle can take care of herself and you, if something goes wrong,” I finished.

“Zane, you make my life easier one more time, I swear that I’m going to use you to redefine road rash,” Belle promised. This declaration didn’t stop Belle from stepping up and taking a seat.

“Jill, is that okay with you? ” I addressed the female lead of the Braxton household.

“If you think it will be good for the house and make things safer, I wholeheartedly support your decision,” Jill agreed. That done, I called out for the invisible Paige.

“Paige, I don’t advise you to sneak up behind Belle,” I warned her. “She might not be in an understanding mood.”

Paige did heed my advice and appeared by me instead of behind Belle.

“Your intellect may be downgraded to ‘sub-par’ if you keep this course of action up,” she cautioned me.

“Do what you will,” I quoted, “for I do what I must.”

“The blade itself incites to deeds of violence,” Belle countered to Paige. “Are you really such a fucking putz that you think you can separate Zane’s passions into the parts that you like from the parts that you don’t? To me it seems you are wasting your parents’ money by going to college yet staying dumb as dirt.”

“Belle — language at the dinner table,” Aunt Jill scolded Belle. I wasn’t sure how Belle would take that but something else was going on at the same time. Everyone was looking at Belle too, but for a reason that had nothing to do with calling Paige names.

“What? I can’t quote Homer?” Belle shrugged. “I’ve read Sun Tzu too. Oh, and sorry about slapping the little bitch, Aunt Jill. I hang out with men of questionable parentage.”

“I apologize, Belle,” Iona spoke up. “I thought less of you because of the way you talk and dress. That was unfair to you and a disservice to myself and the way my parents raised me.” The apologies echoed around the table; Paige’s silence being noted. I gave her one quick look, then joined the rest of the gang doling out the food and settling in to the routine of eating and dinner conversation.


After we ate and cleaned up the table and the kitchen, Jill took to her chair, reading a Christian Lifestyle magazine, while Iona, Paige and I sat on the sofa.

“Zane, do you think we will be able to do this again soon?” Paige asked. It was the first thing she’d said to me since Belle had arrived. I had to think about the words I would use.

“Ask me again in a day or two when I’ve cooled down,” I answered.

“What do you have to be angry about?” Paige turned fully to me. Again, I had to search for the words. “You are the one who brought the stranger around.” I took a deep breath.

“Paige, you were once that stranger that Zane brought around to the rest of us,” Iona reminded Paige. “We were all once new and unknown to him and the rest of us — except Rio. She’s been there at his side since the beginning.”

“I would prefer to hear what Zane is really thinking,” Paige sounded condescending toward Iona.

“Fine,” I sighed. “I can take you teasing me — it is kind of nice and our thing, but I can’t keep dealing with you not trusting my judgment. I will try to do what you want but when you ignore what I want, we need to go separate ways until something changes.”

“But…” Paige went from arrogant to stunned inside a second.

“I asked you to give me a day or two to order my thoughts and emotions but you decided that you knew best,” I explained. “This is how I feel right now: my life would be better without you.” Paige was rendered speechless and both Jill and Iona were clearly unhappy with me.

“That’s not what he means, Paige,” Iona popped back into the conversation, “do you Zane?”

“What the heck does he mean, then?” Paige dry-sobbed.

“This weekend was a disaster for him,” Iona persisted. “All he wanted to do was unwind and spend a quiet few hours at his home with Jill. I was only invited along because I’ve learned to keep out of his way when he gets in these moods.”

“We had a wonderful morning and now he’s acting like a total ass,” Paige grumbled. “We all had a rough week and a less than satisfying weekend.” Iona lowered her head, then stood up.

“Paige,” Iona began as she walked over to face the albino maiden, “I wasn’t aware that our school administration has been after you since day one, or that you’ve been beaten up multiple times, or humiliated, or had your friends threatened, or had your private life made into a public spectacle, or had someone point a gun at you, or make you fight for your life, or get drugged and tied naked to a cross.”

Iona stopped for a breath.

“Please,” Iona pleaded, “tell me how much more you needed a quiet weekend compared to Zane.” Paige began to get all teary-eyed — oh hell. “You invited yourself along, you got the Kappa Sigmas to come over in the middle of the night, and you insult a guest he invites over to his house — his house. What is wrong with you?” Iona showed real anger this time.

Paige got up, choking back sobs, and fled to the back porch; a few moments later I followed. I found Paige curled up on the chair I had cuddled in with her that morning. I knelt down beside her and tilted her chin so that we could make eye contact.

“I…” I got out.

“I understand, Zane,” she hiccupped. “I’ve never lost at anything I have aimed for, but it’s always been accolades or achievements, not a relationship. I can’t give you up and I don’t know what my next move has to be. I get so frustrated when I am with you and another woman shows up. I blew it. I’ll be good and leave you alone.” I fell back onto my ass and shook my head.

“Didn’t I spank your ass over this not too long ago?” I reminded Paige. “What I was going to say was that I’m tired, stressed, and prone to saying things I know I’ll regret — things like saying I don’t want you around. I only wish you and Rio wouldn’t love me one minute, then kick me in the teeth the next. Cut me some slack from time to time.”

“Oh, God,” Paige moaned, and buried her head in her arms, “you are comparing me to Rio. It’s worse than I thought.”

“What do you mean? Rio is my closest buddy. She’d kill for me. Hell, she’d die for me, and you can’t say that about most people,” I pointed out.

“Of course, she might kill the wrong person or get killed doing something I could avoid, but no one is perfect,” I added with a slight smile. Paige snorted.

“She is a total nut,” Paige sniffed. “I hope you don’t think I’m that crazy.”

“Paige, you are as uniquely crazy as you are unique,” I responded.

“Can you please say something that I can understand, Zane?” Paige pleaded.

“You are a fantastic woman and a great lover. You can get inside my head like no one else I’ve ever known. I like the way you tease me. I am slowly getting used to you scaring the crap out of me whenever you materialize at my side,” I complimented her.

“I have one guideline I do try to live by, though, and that is, come at me all you like but stay away from my friends,” I stated.

“Does that include that druggy-whore biker slut?” Paige mumbled. I wasn’t sure what about Belle pissed Paige off so much but I felt I had to make a point. I sprang on Paige and hefted her onto my shoulder.

At first Paige was uncertain and then she began sniffle-giggling, but when I broke through the tree line that separated my property from the Kappa Sigmas, she saw where I was heading and squealed. She was still caterwauling when I dumped her into the pool. Several of the Kappa Sigmas were sitting out in the afternoon overcast sunlight.

“You bastard,” Paige sputtered and splashed about. After a second she parted the hair covering her face and scowled at me. “You don’t even know if I can swim.”

“If you couldn’t I would have jumped in and saved you,” I told Paige. She began swimming to the closest ladder. In retrospect, I should have given more care to the thinness of what Paige was wearing and what it would expose when wet.

Paige furiously stomped forward, her waterlogged clothes splashing water everywhere. I took in the view and before she got to me, she realized what she was exhibiting to the whole world.

“I’m going to kill you!” she screamed at me. I showed remarkable (and what some would say was shocking for me) intelligence by running for my life, Paige in close pursuit.

I let her catch me on the stairs going up to the porch from the yard. She shoved me down and began hitting me — really punching me with her fists. She kicked and screamed for several seconds then let out one last bestial scream and sloshed inside. By the time I got inside, Aunt Jill and Iona were looking at me quizzically. Before I could explain, Paige came storming back downstairs.

“You” she screeched, “you…played me. I…well done, Zane,” she abruptly changed emotional direction. “I’ll let Belle know that I apologize for behaving immaturely.” Paige shook her head a few times. “I give you this round and I have to applaud your psychological manipulation of the situation, Zane.” Paige leaned up, kissed me on my lips, and headed back upstairs.

“What was that all about?” Jill came up and whispered to me.

“I wish I knew,” I shrugged.

“I think Paige may be too smart,” Iona observed. “She sees plans in your instinctual reactions. I suddenly think Cordelia is in serious trouble in her feud with you.”

After that circus, I had a reasonable expectation of a drama-reduced conclusion of the weekend. I was going out with Heaven after all. Things could still go wrong. When I made my way to my car at five it wasn’t Heaven I saw; it was Hope. Mind you, Hope looked amazing dressed in white boots, leggings, below-the-knee length skirt, skin-tight shirt, and bolero jacket. I was suddenly worried about in which cultures white is the color of Death.

“Hey, Hope,” I greeted her as I pulled out my phone and hit Heaven’s speed dial.

“Hello, Zane,” she grinned as she folded her arms and tilted her hip as she waited for me to attend to business.

“Zane,” Heaven mumbled from the other end.

“Babe, what is going on? I like Hope and I owe her a date but I want to be with you right now,” I said. There was a long pause.

“We agreed that there would be more of a rotation to help us deal with the stress of this school year,” Heaven moped.

“Could you hurry up and come down here? Because there is something I want to talk to you about but not over the phone,” I requested.

“I don’t want to…fine,” Heaven groaned, “I’ll be down in a second.”

“As a joke I tried to get anyone to bet me you wouldn’t call. No one took the bet,” Hope smiled.

“You are very beautiful, Hope. This is nothing against you, but I had my heart set on Heaven tonight,” I told her. “Besides, at 12:01 tonight, I really, really wanted to nail her.”

“You might get the chance to nail someone anyway,” Hope smiled seductively. “It isn’t like you are unfamiliar with my body and I certainly don’t mind being in close proximity to you.”

“Doesn’t your Dad kill people for a living?” I questioned.

“No, silly, he’s in private security. As far as I know, he hasn’t killed anyone in the United States in some time — that wasn’t self-defense,” Hope explained.

“I’m still not going to mention to him that we are going out. He’d break every bone in your body. He’s very protective of his daughters,” Hope studied me for my reaction.

“Eh, he’s an old guy,” I mused. “I can probably take him.” Hope began giggling hysterically. Heaven came running up and hug-tackled me, ending that discussion. Christina followed along at a more sedate pace.

“I am so fucking horny,” Heaven whispered in my ear.

“That’s not fair,” I growled, “because now all I can think of his your sweaty back pressed against me as I rub my hands all over your stomach and breasts.”

“Bastard,” she sizzled, but she was clearly less stressed about her now. “What did you want to tell me?”

“When I got home I ran across a mutual friend,” I teased.

“Who?” Heaven worried. I pulled out my wallet and retrieved a certain someone’s card.

“She asked about me, but she really wanted to know about you,” I said as I handed Officer Danica Campbell’s card over. “She told me she misses the feel of you brushing your tits along her back and your hard cock filling her up in every way. She wants to know when you, and maybe I, can stop by.”

Heaven’s eyes grew wider as she looked from the card then over to me several times.

“I…uh…really?” Heaven questioned. I nodded in the affirmative.

“If you feel like it, call her and set something up and I’ll tag along if you want me to.”

“Remember, I’m busy Wednesday nights,” I suggested. Heaven now seemed positively ecstatic.

She gave me one more long kiss, skipped over to Christina, showed her the card and began hurriedly whispering to her. Christina shot me a curious look then smiled, giving her seal of approval to my little gift to Heaven. As those two turned the corner, I walked over to Hope.

“Thank you for waiting, Hope,” I said, as I took both her hands in my own.

“I fully understand Zane. Loyalty is not one of your failings and it wasn’t like you recoiled at the sight of me,” Hope teased. “Now let’s go.” I opened her car door and held it open so she could get in, then went around and got in my side, started things up, and left campus.

“So, what’s the agenda for tonight?” she inquired.

“There is this place on Carver Street that sells the thickest hamburgers we’ve ever seen, or so I’m told,” I related. “After that, we walk around UV campus until 7:30 when we catch the noir film classic A Woman’s Face. I’ve never seen it but I heard it is about the dual nature of women as both nurturer and spirit of vengeance.” Hope seemed intrigued so I counted that as a win.

We had barely beat curfew coming through the gates but neither Hope nor I seemed ready to call it a night. I had my own reasons for wandering around FFU’s campus and if Hope had any ideas about my intentions, she kept quiet about them. It was nearly eleven when I led my date up to the Solarium. Thankfully, the lights were out and some of the sofa-beds were occupied.

We tip-toed to my room around the Chinese screens, revealing my actual sleeping station to be miraculously unoccupied. Barbie Lynn, Rio, Mercy, and Vivian had all bowed to my wishes to be alone tonight. I turned around and pulled Hope to me.

“Yes?” she whispered. “Are we finally up to something because you’ve been picking this moment with care? As your Marksmanship instructor, I approve. As a woman keenly expecting masculine attention, I’m getting a bit frustrated.”

I let my lips do my talking, starting at her finely crafted lips, then moving to her earlobe and the spot right below that. That turned out to be a magic spark for Hope and she began systematically throbbing against me. When I tried to pass farther along her neck toward her shoulder, Hope grabbed the hair on the back of my head and returned me to that place.

A little tongue action in conjunction with my lips elicited a grunt from the lady.

“Ugh,” Hope gulped, “Right there…just like that.” Since we were having a serious disagreement about who was in charge here — and I was losing — I moved my hands from her hips. They traipsed along her side, tickling her, and I moved them simultaneously to both breasts.

Hope did an admirable job of body control but her nipples were the great betrayers. They popped up like a ‘just right’ indicator on a Thanksgiving turkey. Her bra felt simple but thin, so a vigorous stimulation of her nubs produced unbeatable results for her. I alternated between caressing her firm yet pliable breasts and rubbing and twisting her nipples between my thumbs and forefingers.

“No…no,” she panted softly. She wasn’t begging me to stop. She was forcing her stimulation under control by will alone. She was raising the threshold of her climax and I was going to have to really work to overcome her resistance. That was the game with Hope; she was a female tiger, uncertain if the male before her was a worthy mate to submit herself to. Hope wasn’t looking for a partner; with her, all battles had winners and losers.

I didn’t plan to lose and just like she had all the aces where firearms were involved, I had the vastly superior experience in giving and receiving pleasure. Speaking of which, I detached my left hand to Hope’s right and pulled it down my torso in a steady, serpentine motion. The destination wasn’t my crotch but my belt buckle.

Hope once told the club that she was trained to field strip her rifle in the dark with her right (main) hand tied behind her back. She certainly didn’t disappoint me with her removal of my buckle and her rapid whipping out she managed with my belt. I confidently returned my hand to her breast. Hope countered by stepping up with her right leg between mine and her left leg on the outside so she could start some bump and grind action against my upper thigh.

She worked my zipper open and my pants partially down before she began to squeeze and stroke my intensely anxious cock.

“Oh, that’s nice,” she purred.

“I’m thinking the same thing,” I panted my response. Hope used her one free hand to push off from my chest.

“I want to feel it…on my lips and tongue,” she breathed through her nose as she spoke. “Barbie Lynn won’t stop licking her lips when she talks about your semen on her tongue and all Heaven does is blush, look down, and have this annoying little smile on her face. It is driving Chastity and I nuts.”

“That’s nice; now hush up and take off my clothes,” I ordered calmly. This was sort of the test for what I was aiming for with Hope.

“You want me to take off your clothes?” she questioned. I replied with a nod. Hope studied me for a second, not my face and intent, but in preparation of her approach to stripping me.

Hope slowly tugged my shirt up, looking me over as she coaxed my arms up so she could eventually take my shirt off.

“Zane…are you…” she was surprisingly hesitant, “are you going to make me…clean you up…after we have anal sex…with my mouth?” Oh, that was the problem.

Heaven and Barbie Lynn did ass-to-mouth for me but it didn’t seem to gross them out. Hope would have found the very idea disgusting before she met me but now she was unsure, and Hope hated being indecisive over any aspect of her life.

“Let’s not worry about that tonight,” I assured her. “I have other plans for you.”

To understand why Hope was currently so meek (for her) and attentive, you had to understand that her Father was a stern warrior-patriarch of a very proud and mostly traditional Korean family. At home, she was the dutiful eldest daughter in a family with no sons; here at FFU, she was aloof and deadly, except around Christina and company, where she got to be a relatively normal American girl in her early twenties.

Hope’s only experience with men was with her Father, who was rumored to have killed any male who looked at her sexually, or expected her to kill the ones he missed. At FFU there were no guys at all for her to form relationships with — until I arrived. It wasn’t a Daddy-issue thing, Hope didn’t charge off into the great unknown; she became a good student and learned, patiently and confidently.

I would have time later to marvel at my brilliance; at the moment, Hope planting small kisses across my abs and chest as my shirt came up was beyond pulse searing. She didn’t know stimulation so much as she understood how a body worked. She also was coolly efficient in easing my shirt over my head and off my arms.

She used a strong, steadying maneuver to take each shoe and sock off before she removed my pants and underwear together. When she finished, she was left kneeling in front of me, my penis bobbing an inch or two from her lips. She stared at it. I cupped a hand over each ear and guided her lips to my blood-engorged head.

I had no intention of ramming it down her throat; her parting of the lips was enough. It was on her own initiative that she licked off the pre-cum starting to appear along the slit. Her lips took in the top of the head and I stopped the pressure on her head. Hope quickly took over, leaning forward, taking in the whole head, retiring before bobbing back and letting her lips pass over the head to the start of the shaft.

I let her figure out by using her mouth and wrapping my cock up with one hand what felt good to me. She was growing in confidence by leap and bounds but I was still in charge. I touched each shoulder and she looked up (pretty damn sexy with her cheeks dimpling in as she sucked my cock).

“Stand up and take off your clothes,” I instructed. I held her hand as she stood. Hope’s removal of her clothing was no striptease, although it did have a certain military grace to it — physically perfect and fearless. Four times I had to stop myself from stepping up and ravish her as her body’s muscles rippled under her smooth, ochre skin and her breasts swung loose, perfectly round and excited.

“On the bed,” I instructed. Hope turned presenting her taut athletic ass to me, each cheek rolling in tandem with each stride. She moved to pull back the covers but I stopped her with a word.

“No,” I corrected her. “I want you above the covers.” Hope smoothly altered her motion so that she crawled on all fours onto the bed. She looked over her shoulder at me, deliciously presented, before rolling onto her back.

I approached her on my hands and knees from the foot of my sleeping platform and languidly stalked up her body until I stopped and kissed her at the joining of the thigh to the torso. Hope remained attentive and quiet, watching me plant kisses on each side of her pubic triangle without touching it.

As I worked my way up to her diaphragm, Hope raised her left leg, bent at the knee, foot resting next to her other knee. I gave a quick smile; Hope was relaxed and enjoying the moment, which is pretty special for a first-timer. I let my lips nibble along the bottom rib until I took a nip out of her waist and made her giggle.

Hope shifted away as she brought the back of her hand up to stifle her snickers. I let her go. I wanted to give her a wide range of sensations to sample. Had I done this with any of the other women I’d taken to bed? No, but no two women are alike. The only person Hope compared herself to was Hope and I gave her that level of respect.

I laid a path of licks and lip suction up her sternum to her far (left) breast. I circled the areola with my tongue, making sure to rub the nipple with my upper or lower lip as I made my circuit. Hope made this cute little coughing noise but otherwise remained still. Her nipple twirled around my tongue before I engulfed it with my mouth and started a strong steady suction that I accentuated by pulling my head up with her nipple extended by the upward maneuver.

This earned me a twitching in her hips. Her raised leg began to flop back and forth to the side while the right leg pressed against me and opened up her crotch for exploration. I took the offer and ran my right hand along her inner thigh above the knee to her plump, moist pussy lips. On the first trip I pushed a finger in up to the first knuckle.

I drew some of her juices down along her other inner thigh until I made a circle under her knee. She shivered slightly as I did so. I zigzagged on the return trip, this time running a finger from the perineum, dipping in to her cunt and making a quick twirl right beneath the clit. Two desperate breaths escaped past Hope’s clenched teeth.

Hope’s orgasm was close — closer than she realized. I moved my lips from her breast to her ear once more. I also subjected her pussy to the energies of another finger. I made slow, shallow strokes directed at parting the labia around her now rather impressive clitoris, twisting it and squeezing it between my fingers. (Strong fingers are something you work on in Marksmanship btw.)

When Hope’s arms snaked up and wrapped me tightly to her, I knew she was on the home stretch.

“I am going to take you now,” I whispered in her ear. The thrill and confusion of my intentions tore her apart inside.

She wanted to learn and obey but she also wanted to maintain her virginity, and the two ideas collided like twin locomotives. Remember, sex is in the mind and Hope’s thoughts were on fire. I bit down on her earlobe at the same time I grappled with her right tit and gave several quick sharp spanks to her quim.

“Zaaannneeee!” she started out with a hiss but boiled into a thunderous shout. Her thighs clamped onto my fingers and she drove (no, she didn’t claw — she impaled) her fingers into me like nails. The temporary deafness in my right ear was its own reward. I kissed her, running my tongue along the top and back of her teeth while her body shook and shivered.

When the last of the tremors subsided I released her and pushed up with my arms, keeping my elbows half bent.

“Zane, I’m sorry. I’ve hurt you,” Hope sounded worried that her fingernails had blood on them. The pain was nothing compared to the humiliation I’d go through in the showers tomorrow. Rio took perverse glee crowing over every new sexual scar I accumulated.

“Hush now; on your knees facing me,” I commanded.

This time Hope gave a barely noticeable blink before complying. She sat there attentively, her ass resting on her heels and her palms on her thighs looking smoking hot with damp thighs and perky nipples. I shifted up the bed, keeping to my side until I was properly positioned. I then reached for the back of Hope’s head and confidently directed her toward my cock once more.

Hope picked up right where she’d left off; slurping my head like a lollipop. Hope didn’t get overly ambitious. She sucked me in, rolled my head around her mouth using her tongue with the occasional sojourn an inch or two down my shaft. Being at loose ends since Hope was drooling all over my rod so well, I reached out and began fondling her closest breast.

This time I was rough, milking her breast, gripping the base of the breast and pulling down until I pulled the nipple. No response from Hope wasn’t a bad thing; if she didn’t like it she’d let me know. A few more pleasurable minutes with Hope and I sat up and put my other hand on the small of her back (I have really good abdominal muscles).

I brushed my hand knife-like and pinkie first down between her ass cheeks. I brushed her anus but only briefly because my target was her pussy once more. She was hot, wet, and welcoming. I worked two fingers in and pumped her as hard as I dared. When I had her rocking her hips in response to my thrusts, I jumped my fingers down and vibrantly worked over her clit.

Hope choked and little shimmies emanated from her hips. Again, I switched things up on her; I moved my hand up and rotated my forefinger against her anus until it gave way. Hope made a slight gagging noise but recovered masterfully and upped the tempo of her blowjob.

“Come this way,” I directed her by pulling her right buttocks to me.

Hope wiggled from the waist slightly so she could look down the length of my body into my eyes. I repeated my hand motion, her eyes flashed with pleasure and she quickly straddled my body. Now her pussy was nearly at mouth level (Hope’s pretty tall) while her blowjob continued non-stop in our ’69′. I gripped a buttock in each hand, pulled them apart and then lifted my head to her honey box.

With my first lick, Hope’s resolve began to fracture. I would grove my tongue, move her hips over me and then lick from her clit to the bottom of her cunt. I massaged her several times before resting my head and alternating my fingers in. When my tongue lapped at her creases once more, I trailed a finger up to her anus — no reaction.

I tickled her backside for half a minute, then substituted my tongue. I probed delicately and Hope stuttered in response. I went back to twirling her clit while pushing my index finger through her sphincter. Her oral attentions finally broke down. She let my cock plop out of her mouth and rested her forehead on my hip while the overwhelming sensations crashed over her senses.

I felt the tightness of her anal cavity around my finger and her pussy throbbing against my tongue. I pushed deeper with my finger and her juices started flowing as Hope became more and more aroused. Valiantly, she stepped up her game, kissing and sucking one of my balls into her mouth. I moaned, which made her very happy.

Hope’s clit played along my lips as I took it in and sucked on it. She was rubbing my cock shaft as she tantalized my balls when she felt it start to pulse in her hand. My cockhead was engulfed by her lips and she remorselessly gobbling up the top third of my penis with the addition of a little twisting motion with her head and throat.

“I’m cumming,” I growled. “Take it all but don’t swallow until I tell you to.” Hope drove me on faster and harder and I reciprocated on her two holes. When I took on her clit once more, it wasn’t in the form of a monster wave crashing on the beach but like a building tsunami pulling the energy before pummeling in one overwhelming surge. I poked a second finger into her anus to drive her over the top.

Hope’s back arched violently and a thin stream of fluid squirted into my mouth. She humped my face and squeezed my fingers in her asshole in a corkscrew fashion.

“Zane!” she belted out musically. “Oh, God, that’s great…ummm…oh, yes, don’t stop.” My member slapped against my stomach and my balls were starting to boil and I couldn’t hold back for long.

Several more flexes and grunts came from Hope before she settled down enough for me to get her to do what I wanted.

“Hope, I’m cumming,” I ground out once more and just in time. Hope barely got my shaft upright and her lips over my head before I began ejaculating into her mouth.

She breathed sharply through her nose but didn’t choke or spew. Time after time she took my seed until I mustered the strength to let her know I was done. Hope dismounted me and resumed her kneeling position supported by unsteady thighs. I was a little slower in following her though her eyes sparkled when I looked into their brown depths.

“Show me,” I told her. Hope opened her mouth and I saw my semen brimmed inside. I kissed her lower lip along its entire length then did the same to her upper. I didn’t take any of my jizz this time — that would came another time. For now,

“Swallow,” I spoke, and she did in a mighty gulp. I pulled her into me and led us down onto the comforter, Hope resting in my embrace.

I soaked up the gentle passion of the moment with Hope in my arms. When she started kissing me on the neck I realized that was her way of asking for more. I twisted my body and pulled Hope past me so she could extend herself onto her hands and knees with me at her side. She lowered herself, letting her long, luxurious black hair cascade over her far shoulder.

My hands roamed over the back of her neck and shoulders while I kissed her mid and lower back. I shifted from her side, ending up behind her. I gave a slight nudge to her calf to get Hope to open her legs wide and let me position my hips behind her. I gave my rod a few strokes to get it ready but really the visual tableau of the tightly sculpted muscles of her shoulders, back, hips, and buttocks made the physical stimulation superfluous for me.

Keeping my eyes on Hope, I leaned way back and rummaged under the rolled-up blanket at the foot of the bed. The heating pad I’d asked Barbie Lynn to place there made finding the vial of viscous scented oil that was being warmed up easy. I was pleasantly assured of my feel for Hope to notice she hadn’t looked back to see what I was up to. That took a great deal of confidence and trust.

The serenity with which Hope greeted the thin stream of liquid as it steamed while flowing from her tailbone into her cleft was intensely arousing to my sight. I set down the container and began rubbing the oil in. First I started around the anus but I soon moved over each cheek, massaging them as well. When I coasted down to her inner thighs Hope figured out what was really going on and I could swear I heard a phantom cough of amusement.

She knew I’d tricked her in a playful way. A few seconds later she pieced together the why — distracting her was secondary to easing the fatigue creeping through her thighs, lower back and butt brought on by several tense orgasms. There would be no muting of our joining. For ten minutes she relaxed and soaked up the hot oil working into her flesh.

I restarted my efforts by kissing each hip, signaling her that I was anxious for her flesh. I placed one hand on the small of her back and lined up my cock at the top of her butt crack. I gently rocked forward, pushing my cock onto her back. Swaying back, I let my penis slip off her butt, letting it swing free before thrusting forward once more.

This time I directed it languidly along the base of her cunt, letting my cockhead part her lips and plow her furrows until I touched then passed the clit on my way through her pubic hair and beyond. I repeated this orchestra of lust, adding in a movement where my bulbous head pressured her sphincter to the point of violation before sliding elsewhere.

“Jesus, Zane,” Hope sung out, “make up your mind. You are driving me crazy.” Hope wasn’t being exhorted to climax by any loss of control; it was the tension brought about by not knowing what direction the lesson was going to take. For someone else it would be as if you were reading LA Confidential one night only to discover that the last quarter of the book was missing and not accessible until the next morning.

“There will be no intercourse for us tonight, Hope,” I informed her. I began pumping along her pussy, mimicking the fucking motion. Time and again I let my penis head cut along her labia, brush her clitoris until it was stimulated by the low ridges along the shaft. It didn’t take long for Hope to start pushing back against me to maximize my ‘depth’.

*Everyone in this story is 18 or older*

Back Door to Heaven


I could see him mauling her like the brute that he is. I could see her submitting like whore that she is. All the clues, the subtle hints, and the nuances she exuded all point to this, and I feel dumbstruck for not taking any notice of such obvious foreshadowing. Taya and Marcus were exchanging both a passionate and incestuous kiss right behind the church which Taya’s father preaches. Hot blooded feelings of anger, jealously, and disgust crept over me, but they were consumed as fuel for the biggest of all, lust.

Being born into a conservative family, I was forced into the church every week. In and out, it was the same script of heaven and hell, tithing and offering, Jesus and his disciples, being timid, meek, and submissive. Exposure to this definitely singed certain ideals in my head. I relied on a book to tell me who I am and to give me a personality. It wasn’t until my family moved to a different state and we didn’t go to church for a full year that the gleaming stamp of Christianity in my mind began to rust and tatter.

Stepping back and viewing it distantly made me realize that’s where I needed to be, back away from it because meek and submissive wasn’t me and I was largely apathetic about the general zeitgeist. I searched for an explanation, for the name of where my mindset was and I found it. Nihilism. I didn’t tell my family as I felt it was none of their business and when they found a new church to attend, I just felt I’d suffer through until I could get out to college. Four years later, I’m about to graduate high school and I’m ready to go.

While it was difficult going to church having no interest in it, it wasn’t all bad. The preacher Tyler James was relatively young and enthusiastic about modernizing the church. It just so happened I played electric guitar, something several churches don’t have. To give his church a unique flavor, he asked me join the band. Realizing that would keep my bored eyes from the ceiling, random spots around the room, and off of his beautiful daughter on Sunday, I gladly accepted. I gained four years of experience from playing in front of a live audience, learning to various scales, and of course improvisation albeit, through gospel music. I’m more of a metal fan, but it was better than nothing.

There was something else that kept me going without staring holes in the walls. Tyler James’ daughter, Taya. She was the best runner on her track team, and her tight body indicated that. The small percentage of fat on her body granted her the gift of delicate, yet sumptuous, breasts and two tight, round hills resting between the valley of her spine and the deep geyser that I would take great pride in being inside of. On occasion, I got to see her when she had gone out for a run before choir practice (to save time and money, the band and choir practiced at the same time). Her hair would be in a ponytail; her t-shirt would cling to her skin and reveal her tight abs and the mounds pushing out from her chest. Her running shorts would show off her smooth brown thighs, hardened calves, and thin ankles, all glistening with sweat.

It would take the load off of going to church just to see her sweet, innocent face and listen to her bubbly voice that has soothed me for many years, talking me out of or into questionable situations. Sometimes I’d get a hug from her and get to feel her body against mine. I didn’t breathe; I was afraid it would make the moment go faster. I wanted it to last for as it could. These kind of lingering hugs are what probably made her parents look at me funny. I thought for a while I could see myself belonging to her, and her to me, but time has a cruel way of opening your eyes.

Getting more into Taya, I found that she’s shallow and ditsy, and has little ambitions of her own other than to push her body to the limit in track only to please her father and to stay connected in her preppy social circle. She seems nice, says the right things. But she constantly goes after assholes that get what they want from her and leave her in shambles for me to piece her back together, just so she can ignore me again once she gets hooked into another guy. I studied this pattern, and wondered when she was going to give me a chance. Never, and I later found out why.

Around my sophomore year, her cousin Marcus joined the church. He was loud, boisterous, and out going. Naturally, she was drawn to him. At the time, all I saw was how much more muscular than me he was, how much more of a cookie cutter piece of guy candy he was than me. He was just the right color of brown that seemed to appeal to a wider array of women. I just knew he’d be competition and whenever I addressed him, I acted cold. He wasn’t so warm himself, and from time to time our contact would escalate into full on pissing matches. I didn’t know he was Taya’s cousin until he left the church at the end of the year to leave for college. I sighed in false relief, and felt that I still had a chance. The cycle of her spirit being broken by pricks and being repaired by me continued clean up until the end of our senior years. She began to withdraw and have less time for me because Marcus would occasionally pop back into the church.

When he wasn’t there I couldn’t get her to shut the hell up about her problems, but when he was, she always dressed in something chic and revealing, hovering around him. She always had an expensive hairstyle. She always stared intently at him smiling and eating up his every word. When I could inch my way between them, he always brought up questions about Taya’s love life or her sexual preference. In church. Even I knew not to probe certain areas as not to get into a sticky situation. Regardless of the unusual questions between cousins, she always answered him, never hinting the slightest bit of offense. This was a dead giveaway of their unusually close relationship.

One Sunday after service, the whole congregation was lingering, just like any other Sunday. They were chatting about god, people, the church, and so on. One conversation I overheard as I was putting my guitar back in its case made me uneasy.

“Did you know Marcus squat lifted 320 at nationals?”

“No, that’s incredible. I used to lift but I never had that kind of strength.”

“He’s so driven. I’m so proud he attends this church.”

“Likewise, he the best young man that’s come through here in long time.”

I collected my amp and slung my guitar case across my shoulder and left as fast as I could. I’d be damned if I was going to listen to a bunch of phonies patronize that douche bag. I figured I’d walk home but in the spur of the moment, I felt like getting something to eat nearby knowing nobody would be home since my parents were on a cruise to the Caribbean. I started walking past the church into the alley. Then I heard her laugh.

Taya let out a loud throaty giggle. It wasn’t the only one I heard. The second giggle was much more masculine. I’d heard this before and immediately I knew who it was…. Taya and that asshole Marcus. My instinct told me to get away, but my curiosity paralyzed my legs. In between the laughing, I heard something that sounded like kissing. I didn’t know it at the time because I was being naïve. I never would have expected what I saw. I could tell the noises were coming from the gutter outlet. I softly put my stuff on the pavement, and snuck to it.

The outlet was below street level, and I had and overhead view of the back of Marcus’ pelvis pressed against Taya’s, her buns filling his right hand and his left hand on the back of her head with his fingers entangled in her long black hair. Both Taya’s hands were on Marcus’ ass. Their mouths were connected at the lips, but were constantly moving in unrest. Their tongues came out from time to time, and they were all wrapped around each other. They took turns taking each others’ tongues in their mouths. All the while, their hands were moving all over their bodies, squeezing, caressing, massaging. I stood above them, both shocked and aroused.

Marcus initiated the first leap into heavy petting when he lifted her dress up to gain access to her heavenly mound. For a moment, the skirt of her short purple dress was against her torso and her chocolaty thighs came out from either side of her blue panties. My heart skipped, and I my boner begin to snake its way down my leg. His hand disappeared into her panties, then his forearm under her skirt. Taya pulled back, looking a little shocked, shocked perhaps that he would go that far.

“No….I told you, I’m still a virgin. Can we just do what we did last time?” Taya said lowly, pleadingly.

“I know, I remember. I’ll stay on the outside. I promise,” said Marcus.

They began speaking softer and softer, but much more sensuous. I couldn’t hear, but for the most part, but I could see there body language leading to affirmation on something. Then, I heard Marcus speak up.

“Turn around. I can put mine in and rub yours at the same time. You’ll still be a virgin.”

“Mmm….OK Marcus,” she nearly whispered.

With what I heard, I remembered back to a teen bible study that both Taya and I attended alone as we were the only teens at the church at the time and the instructor was talking about sex before marriage and how it leads to hell…or some shit along those lines. The instructor asked if we were virgins.

“Yes,” I said sternly. I was at the time, but even if I wasn’t, there’d be no need to indicate it to her.

Hesitantly, Taya began to say yes also, but she stumbled in her words and brought up a question. In her sweet voice, she asked, “I have a friend who gets…intimate with her boyfriend but they don’t have….uh…regular sex. Is she still a virgin?”

“Well, in my opinion, as long as they haven’t had vaginal sex and broken your friend’s hymen, she’s still a virgin. As far as I know, vaginal sex is the only kind that exists,” said the instructor.

Both Taya and I blushed and held by our laughter at the instructor’s ignorance.

“Well, it’s good she won’t go to hell,” Taya said almost jokingly.

With one quick smooch to seal the deal, Taya turned to face the wall and leaned against it, pushing her hips back towards Marcus’ crotch. Without really thinking, I began to undo my zipper. I reach inside the slot in my boxers and retrieved my pulsating staff. I gripped it hard in anticipation. Marcus did the same, and roughly pulled up her skirt to the shoulder straps of her dress in his right hand, and pulled down her panties in her left. His fast movement caused her to flinch a bit. Both Marcus and I took the beautiful sight of Taya’s compact brown cheeks glowing in the afternoon sunshine. The two firm globes parted slightly to reveal the most perfectly round and puckered asshole residing just above the back of her tight virgin gash trickling clear droplets of her potent arousal.

I would have risked discovery and went down into the outlet to lick the drops off of the concrete and plunged my tongue deeply into the source of her sweet juice, but I new I would never be able to live it down. So I continued to stare silently and masturbate. Marcus moved in closer and began to run his right hand over Taya’s slick vagina, paying extra attention the lips. While he rubbed her, he rocked back and forth, sliding his cock between her ass cheeks.

“MMMMM,” Taya let out a moan. Taya got more into the moment, and pushed against both Marcus’ hand and his member, matching his rhythm. She let out a series of deep moans to express the pleasure he was giving her. I began to pick up the pace, and I gripped my cock harder and harder. It felt so wrong to be watching this, but the girl I wanted to be with was getting fucked the way I wanted to fuck her. No, I wanted to do it better. I wanted to be where Marcus was and make her feel the best she ever has. But all I could do was watch as her cousin did the job I hoped she would let me do.

Without letting his right hand leave her pussy, he used his left to collect lube from Taya’s wet slit and applied to the length his cock. Then, he took two fingers wet with Taya’s juice and his pre cum, and he started prodding at her asshole. Without much of a fight, her hole began to steadily accept them and started to finger fuck her while rubbing her pussy. Taya’s moans became loftier and more distant. He was pumping his fingers in and out of her faster and faster and rubbing her mound harder than before. Undoubtedly, he was trying to induce her orgasm, and it was working. Her muscles tensed and she began to pant. She was vocalizing the reaction to the sensations in her body. Not in words, in moans and groans, both of which were symphonic to me as I continue to run my clenched fist up and down the shaft of my cock.

Then Marcus stopped abruptly, pulled his fingers out and grabbed his cock. Taya let out a disappointed sigh and her breathing began to slow. Her asshole gaped slightly and slowly regained it’s tightly puckered stature. It nearly caused me to cum on the spot. Marcus continued to fumble with his cock until it was hard again, and he lifted the helmet to her asshole and rammed it slowly. Just like before, it had no problem widening to accept his thick black cock. She may be a virgin, but her ass has definitely taking its share of play.

“Ahhhh, Marcus,” Taya said airily.

I watched as Marcus inched his way into what I imagined was the warmest and tightest canal that any man could ever enjoy. I jerked my cock enviously. When Marcus buried himself to the base inside her, she squealed loudly. If I could get a chance to make her squeal like that, I would officially have reached nirvana.

He shifted his hands around as soon as he was in. He reached around to the front of her pussy and I would assume her was massaging her clitoris. With his other hand, her kneaded breast and he leaned in close and whispered something in her ear. She responded. Once again, they were inaudible. Their back and forth lasted for about a minute before I heard Taya say something.

“Do it as hard as you can.”

With that, Marcus kissed her cheek, and thrust forward, pushing her into the concrete wall. He pulled out all the way to the tip, and violently shoved it back in. Taya let out loud yelps that tore through the air as he pumped her as hard as he could, just like she wanted. She was letting it all out, growling, screaming, panting, and shouting his name.

“Oh yeah, Marcus, do it faster!!!”

He responded by groping her harder, fingering her faster, and fucking her roughly in her tight ass. I was strangling my cock and jerking it at lightening speed. I rolled my balls around in my hand, feeling them begin to tighten as energy began to gather inside them. I looked up at the blue cloudless sky and closed my eyes, picturing me fucking her. As visions of Taya flashed into my mind, I could hear Marcus’ pelvis slapping against Taya’s luscious ass, creating a rhythm to which I pictured myself fucking her to.


I could feel her warm wet hole tightly encase my cock and her hot cheeks slam against my crotch. I could smell her essence and her perfume mingling together. I could feel her soft breast with her nipple jutting into the palm of my hand. I was the one playing with her pussy as her juice dripped down my forearm. I even vividly imagined the feeling of her sphincter pulsating on my cock. But all that was interrupted when I heard the bellowing of the hominid that had the privilege of fucking Taya.

I stopped in my tracks, opened my eyes, and looked down. Marcus had stopped thrusting, but I continued jerking. He had both of his hands on the wall, and had his body against hers. Taya was still pushing back on him, but he was standing totally still. She continued to milk cum from his cock, squeezing her cheeks and anus around it. He remained still, lost in his orgasm. This went on for about a minute before he grabbed her hips abruptly to halt her and pulled out.

His limp dick reluctantly came out of her, and he took a step back to admire her. Taya’s asshole was oozing semen from her hole and her ass was shiny with sweat. Still facing the wall, I could see the disappointed look on her face. Looking back, I could tell she was angry because Marcus never brought her to orgasm, but at the time, I was over powered with lust and I was ready for my release.

At the sight of her fully naked ass dripping cum from her and her cousin, I couldn’t hold back. I jerked as hard as I could, and finally I felt my balls contract and recede a little into my groin.

“AGHHH!!” I shouted as I started shooting streams of semen outward into the outlet. I closed my eyes as lightening shot from my cock and balls straight to my spine and thighs. I leaned back slightly, pushing my rod further outward; releasing more and more jets of semen. As each shot exited my dick, it felt like pieces of energy were being pulled out of me. I can’t quite describe the feeling, but I felt almost as good as I would imagine sex with Taya would be like.

Lost in my big moment, I hadn’t realized what I had done. It wasn’t until I heard Marcus shouting obscenities that I opened my eyes. I looked down, to see them looking up at me. I stood their, looking at them covered in mycum unapologetic and unafraid. It was a silent stare down, and nobody dared break the silence for a brief moment. But then, Taya spoke up, looking a bit confused.

“Xavier…..were you…..?”

“Yes, the whole time,” I replied.

Silence crept back over us, and Marcus and Taya tried to avoid eye contact with me and each other, darting their eyes in any random place. I put my cock away, and presented a proposition.

“I won’t say anything under a few conditions.”

My voice startled them and they both looked up, quickly and quizzically.

“What are the conditions?” Taya asked.

“Yeah, man, what do you want?” asked Marcus slightly annoyed.

Ignoring Marcus, I looked Taya in her dark eyes, looked down at her bald pussy, then returned back to her eyes.

“I think you know the answer to that,” I said.

Taya and Marcus both looked at each other, and then back at me.

“If that’s what it takes to keep this quiet…” said Marcus.

I nodded. “Well, it’s definitely a good start.”

“What d’you think?” Julia asked, twisting one leg to make her dress twirl.

“Gorgeous,” Pete replied, grinning. “I have to admit that when you said turquoise I was kind of sick a little bit, in my mouth.”

Julia turned, grabbed a cushion from the armchair and frisbee’d it at her boyfriend.

“It looks good,” Pete laughed as he dodged the throw.


“Yes,” Pete replied as he approached her. “I promise. I just feel sorry for Diana, that’s all.”

“Why because she’s marrying your brother?” Julia nodded seriously.

“No, well yeah, but more because everyone is going to be looking at you.”

Pete slipped his arms around Julia’s waist and rested his chin on her shoulder, gazing at her in the mirror as she looked herself up and down.

“She must actually like you, I mean to put you in a bridesmaid’s dress that isn’t hideous. I kind of thought that was the point of bridesmaids: to make the bride look better by comparison?” Pete smirked.

“Pete, she’s my oldest friend, we chose the dresses together.”

Pete thought back to the previous weekend, he knew exactly how close Julia and her oldest friend were. He hadn’t plucked up the courage to mention what he’d witnessed, he’d wanted to but he had no idea if she’d be mad at him for spying. He knew he was on to a good thing with her and didn’t fancy jeopardising it.

“Don’t you think it’s a little tight though?” Julia sighed, frowning at herself as she adjusted the bodice.

Pete sighed and bit his tongue as his first response froze in his throat. He counted to three in his head and smiled.

“You haven’t put on weight,” he reassured her, “we went over this two days ago, you’re perfect.”

In truth he had realised she was right when she’d asked him flat out if he thought she’d got bigger, but he didn’t mind, it just meant all her clothes had got a little tighter which in turn just meant more of her on show for him. There was no way he was going to tell her what he really thought, he may not be the most experienced guy in the world but he wasn’t an idiot either.

Julia cupped her breasts through the dress and smiled back at her boyfriend. Her conscience screaming at her.

“There’s something I wanted to say,” she said, her eyes leaving his quickly.

“What is it?” Pete asked, one arm rising up under her breasts and the other hand flat on her stomach.

Julia realised she’d hesitated too long.

“I’m sorry Andrew didn’t ask you to be his best man,” she sighed, scolding herself for chickening out.

“Haha, is that all?” Pete laughed, “I couldn’t care less about that, it just means I get to spend more time with you,” he turned his head and pecked her cheek. “And around the other bridesmaids too,” he whispered, his fingers darting up to tickle under her arms as he stepped backwards and dodged her jab to his ribs.

Julia tried to look indignant at her boyfriend’s admission that he’d been checking out the other women but she couldn’t help laughing. He wasn’t the only one, she’d particularly enjoyed the day Diana had taken her and the others out to try dresses on. Diana had picked up on her lingering gaze, asking her to come in to the dressing room under some false pretence and treating her to quick, almost silent, bout of tonguing and fingering while the others waited just outside the unlocked door.

Julia grunted as the memory was shattered by Pete throwing the cushion back at her.

“Fuck Pete,” she snapped, realising at once she’d over-reacted, “watch the dress,” she frowned, hoping she’d covered well enough.

“Sorry,” Pete sighed, his forehead furrowing as he turned away.

She’d have to tell him sooner or later, their relationship was always on the physical side and it wasn’t like she could let him keep bending her over the kitchen table like he did. Besides, he’d definitely start to notice soon. Later, she promised herself, they’d get through the day first, no point in possibly causing a break-up right before an event neither of them could get out of. Also, it’d ruin Diana’s big day if the news went badly… and steal her thunder if it went well. She should definitely wait then. She nodded to herself in the mirror, happy to have come to a final decision.

“I should be getting back to Diana,” she said happily as she turned back to Pete sitting on the bed. “I told her I’d only be five minutes while I showed you the dress.”

“Oh, OK,” Pete nodded neutrally.

Julia appeared to be her usual happy self again now, but the way she’d snapped was odd. Was she pissed that it was Diana getting married and not her, or that Diana was marrying Andrew who was, by general consensus, a dick? Or maybe she thought that Diana was now officially off the menu. He shrugged to himself, who knew how her mind worked?

Julia bent down and kissed his forehead.

“I’ll see you downstairs, all right?” she smiled, lingering a little longer as she caught him looking down at her cleavage.

She grinned to herself as she headed for the door.

“Wait,” Pete said, suddenly on his feet.

Julia turned.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Can I come too, to get a quick look at Diana’s dress?” he grinned.

“They’re already all dressed, you know that, right?” Julia laughed, “you’re not going to walk in on a group of girls in their underwear.”

“I know,” Pete sighed, “I just want to see what the dress looks like.”

“OK, come on then,” Julia laughed, holding the door open for him and closing it as she left. “But no touching!” she said sternly.


Diana turned as her mother opened the door to let Julia back in.

“Pete wanted to see your dress quickly,” Julia apologised.

“What d’you think Pete?” Diana asked.

“Wow,” Pete replied, “that’s- Andrew doesn’t deserve you.”

He felt himself twitch in his suit, picturing Julia and Diana doing exactly what they had last weekend, but wearing the dresses they were now. He wondered how the other bridesmaids weren’t pulling Diana’s dress off her and descending in to a lesbian frenzy on the floor.

“OK, you can shut your mouth now,” Julia hissed, her hand on his chest as she pushed him backwards out the door.


Pete strolled out through the lobby of the hotel, his shoes tapping on the marble floor. There was a chapel in the hotel grounds, big enough for a congregation of a couple of hundred.Pete guessed it’d probably been there since before the hotel was built. Guests were dotted along the gravel path from the hotel to the chapel and a highly polished car waited to drive Diana the short distance. Pete put his hands in his pockets and began walking, making a note to avoid anyone he recognised as a relative who’d corner him and talk incessantly about how wonderful Andrew was.

Inside the chapel he found himself a seat a little behind his parents and sat, nodding a hello to the elderly couple who promptly sat beside him. They were vaguely familiar and after the initial greeting and explanation of who he was they appeared to be quite content to leave him alone, which was perfect just so long as-

“Peter! Good to see you, I hear you’re working for the government now.”

Pete turned in his pew and forced a smile at his great uncle.

“Uncle Horace,” he said, “it’s good to see you, where’s auntie?”

“Huh, the old bag’s around here somewhere, probably talking the ear off some poor sod, what,” Horace snorted. “So, this government thing-”

“It’s not really government work,” Pete replied, shaking his head seriously.

“Oh, right, need-to-know and all that,” Horace whispered. “You can count on me, mum’s the word.”

He tapped the side of his bulbous red nose and winked.

“Thank you,” Pete said quietly, turning back to face the front.

“Still, good to know there’s someone in the family doing his bit to fight the damn-”

“Uncle, please,” Pete said quickly, turning back to him, “not so loud.”

“Oh, right, yes, right you are. Is there a bar in here d’you think?” Horace looked around. “Oh bugger, the wife’s spotted me.”

Pete looked over Horace’s head as he ducked, seeing his great aunt charging down the aisle like a galleon under full sail.

“Percy,” she cried as she saw him, pushing her way along the pew to lean over her husband and kiss her nephew.

“It’s Peter you damn fool,” Horace snorted, “mad woman can’t remember a thing, what,” he hissed to Pete. “Hello, who is this fine young woman?” he went on, his eyes widening as he looked over Pete’s shoulder.

Pete turned and saw Julia trying to walk quickly and respectfully in heels across the uneven stone floor along the cloisters.

“Pete,” she hissed, “Pete!”

“What are you doing here?” Pete asked, “aren’t you meant to be-”

“Come here,” she said, grabbing the sleeve of his suit and pulling him off the end of the pew as she flashed a smile at the bewildered expressions of Horace and his wife.

“What is it?” Pete hissed as she led him away towards the front of the chapel, very aware that a lot of eyes were almost certainly following them.

“I need your help with something,” Julia replied loudly enough for the front few rows to hear.

Pete turned and saw his parents staring at him and Julia.

“Why didn’t you say so?” he replied and followed her out of sight through an arched doorway.

Julia stopped in a small room, bare stone reaching up above them to a bizarre vaulted ceiling.

“Well?” Pete asked.

Julia bit her lip and tapped her manicured nails impatiently on the wall.

“Fuck it,” she muttered to herself.

“What?” Pete asked. “You’re being weird today.”

“It’s nothing,” Julia sighed, “just… no, nothing.”

Pete turned to leave.

“Wait!” she barked, her arm darting out and grabbing his.

She pulled him back, close to herself, his hand automatically reaching out and leaning his weight against the wall behind her. Her eyes looked up in to his, their mouths both panting, his with the shock of being moved so violently, her’s with trepidation.

“I, er, I’m… Damnit this shouldn’t be so hard,” she sighed, closing her eyes. “I, love you,” she shrugged, tears welling up in her eyes.

Pete smiled, then chuckled as he let one hand fall to Julia’s waist and pull her away from the wall and in to his arms.

“Is that all?” he grinned to himself, “I love you too.”

“Really?” Julia asked, pushing him back and looking in to his eyes again.

“Of course,” Pete nodded happily.

“No matter what?” Julia sniffed.

“No matter what,” Pete laughed.

Julia’s hand turned on his chest, her fingers closing on his buttoned shirt and yanking him closer.

“Thank you,” she whispered as their bodies pressed together again.

Pete tilted his head and kissed below his girlfriend’s ear. She turned her face to his and flicked her eyes up from his mouth then back down again, softly pressing her lips to his.

“You’re perfect,” she breathed, her lips parting and parting his in turn.

Pete returned the kiss, dipping his tongue in to Julia’s mouth, his hands tightening on her hips as the kiss grew insistent.

“How long’s the ceremony?” Pete asked as Julia trailed her tongue over the stubble on his throat.

“Two hours,” she sighed, her fingers on his belt.

“Two hours?” Pete gasped, moving back to look at her and judge if she was joking. “You’re serious?”

Julia nodded and pulled him closer again, letting his body pin her’s to the wall.

“I can’t wait two hours,” he groaned.

“Me neither,” Julia replied, her words urgent as she moved her mouth back to his and bit his bottom lip. “I want you now.”

Her hands made short work of his belt, letting his trousers pool around his feet.

“If you make one stain on this dress,” she warned as she pushed him back a few steps and hitched the material up around her waist, “one stain, and we’re both dead.”

Pete grinned and moved in closer, pulling his cock out of his shorts. Julia’s stern expression melted to one of happy desire as he grabbed one of her wrists and pinned it against the rough masonry above her head.

“No underwear?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You were going to get it at some point today, and with such a long dress panties were just unnecessary and were going to be a hindrance,” Julia giggled briefly before straightening her expression again. “Every drop has to go in me,” she groaned as his mouth caressed the side of her neck.

“I promise,” Pete whispered.

With a jolt of his hips he sheathed himself in his girlfriend, both of them gasping with mutual pleasure.

“Uh, that’s good,” Pete grinned.

“I’ve never done it in a church before,” Julia hissed huskily before biting his earlobe. “It feels bad, in a good way.”

Pete thrust again.

“Mm, Petey, in such a good way,” she groaned, grabbing his hair and turning his head to kiss him again.

“Shh,” Pete hissed, “someone’ll hear us.”

The congregated friends and family were out of sight but the hum of conversation was still clearly audible.

“They’d just be jealous,” Julia smirked.

“Maybe we should ask if they want to join us,” Pete joked, adjusting his grip on Julia’s thigh as he lifted her right leg.

“Haha, yeah, is that what you were planning with that old couple?” Julia teased.

Pete shook his head and frowned at his girlfriend.

“Come on,” she murmured, “fuck me like a bad girl.”

Pete released her wrist above her head and took a hold of her butt in both hands, lifting her clean off the ground and guiding her legs around his waist.

“Uh fuck!” Julia gasped as gravity forced her down on to him, his girth stretching her wide open. “Who did you have in mind then?” she asked, “if not a pair of octogenarians?”

“I was kidding,” Pete winced.

“You wouldn’t fancy a threesome with one of the other bridesmaids then?” Julia whispered in his ear.

Pete felt his cock swell and twitch violently inside Julia’s hot pussy.

“Haha,” he laughed, hoping to cover the obvious lust flaring in his eyes, “yeah, or Diana perhaps,” he replied, trying to stick out his tongue but finding his mouth refusing to cooperate as Julia clenched her muscles around him.

“You’re still on about that?” Julia groaned, “it was years ago and it’s never going to happen Pete.”

Pete pulled back and thrust harder in to Julia, making her stifle a yelp. He didn’t mind being told ‘no’ but the way Julia could act like there was nothing between her and Diana made him feel as if he was being made a fool of.

Julia pulled a fistful of Pete’s hair and forced her tongue in to his mouth as she yanked his head backwards. She squirmed on the hard invasion in her body, picturing Diana rounding the corner and catching them. God, she so badly wanted Diana and Pete at the same time, but how would Diana react to the suggestion and how would she explain to Pete that not only had she had a change of heart, but that they’d already slipped back in to the delicious lesbian affair they’d left behind so many years ago? It just didn’t seem possible to raise the subject seriously without one of them getting hurt, besides, in her current state-

“Oh God Petey, yes, fuck me like that,” she grunted through clenched teeth.

“You’re so good,” Pete shuddered, his climax boiling up from his balls.

“Nuh-uh,” Julia shook her head, “I’m bad, I’m so bad. I’m your bad, bad girl and I need to be punished… harder, deeper, Oh fuck Pete, please? Please, punish me.”

Pete wanted to rip Julia’s dress down and bury his face between her tits, he didn’t care about the wedding, he didn’t care about whether or not his girlfriend was sleeping with his soon-to-be sister-in-law. The past and future were completely irrelevant as he furiously pumped himself in and out of the tight confines of Julia’s hot, wet pussy, their bodies quietly slapping together.

Julia’s fingers interlocked on the back of Pete’s head, his hot breath coming in waves and washing over the exposed skin of her chest and visibly moving the draped chiffon detail the hung across one shoulder.

“I’m gonna- uh God, I’m…” Pete grunted, looking up in to her hungry eyes.

“In me,” Julia reminded him, lowering her head to his shoulder and feeling his stubble rub against her jaw. “Come on Petey,” she whispered, “fill my cunt with your hot cum.”

“Oh God, yes, ugh, fu-uh-,”

“That’s it baby,” Julia purred, the last syllables catching in her throat.

“Ugh, oh fuck!” Pete cried.

Julia felt him pulse inside her as she turned her head and kissed his earlobe.

“I’m pregnant,” she whispered, her heart pounding in her chest.

“Fuck, uh, here it,” Pete gasped, “what!?” he tipped his head back and looked up at her face.

Julia bit her lip and nodded, smiling hopefully. With another deep grunt Pete erupted inside her, his head falling forwards as his fingers tightened in the soft flesh of his girlfriend’s thighs. She felt him pour himself in to her, his body frozen to the spot momentarily before he gave another shallow thrust and fired another barrage of his creamy cum deep inside her.

“I said I’m pregnant,” she panted as he descended from his orgasm.

Pete let Julia lower her legs to the ground, her dress falling to cover her once more. He breathed heavily, leaning one hand up on the stone wall and letting it take his weight. Julia stood beside him, half guilty at springing the news on him and half mad that he hadn’t reacted yet.

“Julia!” a female voice yelled, echoing around the chapel. “Julia where the hell are you?”

Julia ducked her head out through the arch and then returned.

“Shit, I have to go, it looks like we’re on.” She bent down slightly and looked up at Pete’s face staring at the ground. “Sorry,” she said, “we need to talk, I-” she looked back out through the arch, “I, we, just not right now, sorry, it was a stupid moment. Sorry. I’ll see you later, OK?”

Pete raised his head and turned to her as she stood by the archway.

“What, er, yeah, sure. Sure,” he nodded, smiling unconvincingly.

Julia returned to the chapel, hurrying as best she could, her heels rattling on the stones. She tried to bury the doubts that were screaming at her and the little voice that was telling her how stupid she’d been.

Pete breathed slowly, shutting his eyes tight and then opening them wide. Eventually he straightened up and crouched to pull his trousers back up and buckle his belt. He gave himself a moment and smoothed out his suit, then squared his shoulders and walked confidently back out, returning his parents’ stare as he passed them, returning to his pew and turning to his great uncle.

“Sorry old man, I’ve searched every inch of this place and I’m damned if I can find a bar anywhere in here.” He grinned, his eyes meeting Horace’s, knowing that everyone within earshot was staring at them.

“Not to worry Peter,” Horace replied in a whisper, “always got my own, just in case, what.” He winked and reached in to his jacket pocket, taking out a flask and knocking it back. “Fancy a quick snifter yourself?” he offered.

“Don’t mind if I do,” Pete grinned, accepting the flask and sucking back on the fiery liquid that sloshed on to his tongue. “I needed that,” he replied as he handed the flask back.

“Don’t we all?” Horace grinned, nodding sideways at his wife and taking another pull.

Pete chuckled and turned back to the front.


Pete didn’t manage to catch up with Julia until the crowd had eddied its way back up to the hotel. The two hours hadn’t registered in his mind at all, on more than one occasion great uncle Horace had subtly tapped him on the shoulder as everyone around him rose to their feet.

The reception was being held in some huge ballroom but as it was sunny weather the doors were all wide open and a lot of guests were milling around outside. He entered the ballroom from the inside of the hotel, scanning the crowd, hoping to God that no one would want to talk to him. He had to talk to Julia. He spotted her just outside the far door and ducked and weaved his way across the floor, whipping a glass out of her hand and placing it on a passing tray in a single fluid movement, then taking her forearm and swirling her gently but insistently back in through the doorway.

September 2018
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